This wasn’t out of the blue. About a month ago, while trying to get her to take a nap, I gave her the basic run down on shadows and light: hard shadows, soft light, reflection, etc. She may have just been trying to stall, to delay her bedtime. I took the bait.

We talked about how the light was coming from the doorway instead of the window because it was night. We looked at the shadows the ceiling fan made. I demonstrated how the closer your hand gets to the headboard, the harder the shadow is. Then I demonstrated the same by creating a shadow on my face. She pulled her little hand under the covers and said, “Don’t make it dark on my hand.” I could see the fear in her eyes. The very real fear that darkness holds for a child.

As an adult, I don’t often consider darkness in this sense. I mean, I have a flashlight app on my iPhone.

LOST.

Anyone who has been truly lost can instantly remember the feeling. You may have felt it when I typed that word in bold just now.

Being lost and in complete darkness is not something I’ve ever experienced. I can’t relate to it at all. Which is why it is so easy to forget about lighthouses. Most of us don’t travel by sea, battle monster waves or yearn for a glimpse of light through the storm that could mean the difference between life and death. So, until we’re driving down the coast and spot one, or a sign telling us one exists, it’s easy to let them slip from our minds.

Then you turn on your blinker, park your car at the turnoff and hike it in. You walk into a world where pure darkness exists and is battled every minute. A world where brick is laid by hand and then whitewashed into place, and the steel staircase doesn’t need repairs for centuries, if ever. Where a lens manufactured in France makes its home, by way of the Panama Canal. A world where kids walk a mile through the forest each way to school, while you’re doing the most important mundane work that exists. Where constant attention must be paid to every dull detail, or lives can be lost. You bring light into darkness, direction to the disoriented; you work with your hands, and your day job means something.

If you’re lucky, you bring your a camera along. I brought my camera.

We’re reaching the midway point of the three day event that is The New Communicators. A quick look at their website will divide you into one of two categories: 1) I don’t get what’s going on here, it seems vague. That makes me uncomfortable and I’m not interested. OR 2) I don’t exactly get what’s going on here, but I like it. Sign me up.

When I first stumbled upon their website two months ago I fell squarely into the second category. Having subsequently met Erin Kurtz, Stephen Landau and Stacy Westbrook (three of the driving forces behind The New Communicators) I’ve gathered evidence that supports the aforementioned thesis. The event description is vague (purposefully) and people react very differently to that. Whatever your initial reaction, there are some very cool things happening.

I attended the Show & Tell at Substance last night, and was happy to find that there are people out there doing great things. Money isn’t the driving force behind all action.

Or, to quote several tweets:

@dlowe93: “Ideas are worthless unless they are shared.” Wisdom from @ecopop

@jeremypair: I also liked “create opportunities to have opportunities.”

The point of this post is this: we can all get into a rut now and then. Whether it’s due to a heavy workload, unexpected changes at work, your baseball team failing when it had every opportunity to succeed, or the simple fact that fall is turning to winter and the rainy season is underway.

Sometimes I need a bit of inspiration to get myself going again. If I’m going to create epic projects, it helps to see other people out organizing events to clean rivers and fight child slavery. It helps to know they are putting their minds to creatively encouraging box reuse or creating an art magazine with underprivileged kids.

It helps to know that I won’t be going at it alone and that if I make the effort there is a community out there that is already making it happen. I’m a step behind and need to get going.

That is what The New Communicators is to me. There is still a day and a half left for you to find out what the New Communicators is to you.

Go.

Mr. Grumpy Pants is a name that was given to me in response to my lack of enthusiasm to sign up for a lame “ride your bike to work” online campaign. The name seems to strike the right chord with those who know me, though, due most likely to the fact that no one has ever thought me to be anything but perfectly cheerful, jovial, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The irony of a certain office mate calling me “Mr. Grumpy Pants” is striking, to say the least, and so people that know me laugh and laugh at the mention of it as my nickname at the office. I told my parents of the nickname while dining with them a while ago (knowing that my parents certainly do not deem me to be grumpy in any way) and my dad nearly fell over laughing — thus is the absurdity of calling such a genuinely good spirited person such as myself “Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

This said, I would like to talk a bit about things that bother me and keep me from reaching my maximum jovial-ness. Because everything bothers me, just not all at the same time.

Last night, Jake walked in with the mail and pointed out that Netflix had sent him and me (we both have Netflix accounts) a promo piece offering a free month of Netflix to friends and family. Jake set the mail down and asked, “at this point, who hasn’t heard of Netflix?”

—–> Jake pondering the economic impact of Netflix

This is a great question. The short answer is “no one.” If your friends haven’t told you about it or if your kids haven’t mocked you for not knowing about it, you have, on numerous occasions, been bombarded by Netflix pop-up windows while innocently surfing classy sites like www.espn.com and www.thereifixedit.com.  Jake and I talked a bit about Netflix and how it has become so well-known so quickly. There’s a pretty simple reason for this — it’s fast, convenient and has a HUGE selection of movies to choose from. (Also, there are now a ton of films/documentaries/TV shows that one can stream instantly on Netflix’s website.)

—–> Jake’s Netflix ID is “Movie Lover”. Anytown, USA is a great place to live.

I am a bit sad about the demise of the local video stores. I used to love going to Blockbuster on the weekend to get a new release or to browse the older titles. In a way, it’s similar to the demise of the newspapers. These two things played large roles in my life growing up and sometimes it is crazy to realize that neither Blockbuster or newspapers will be around in 10 years. However, change, though it can make me super nostalgic, can also make my life easier. I can check mlb.com’s app on my iPhone to see if the Mariners won instead of waiting for the paper in the morning. (The Oregonian doesn’t even report the Mariners’ score because the games end too late – it’s easy to see why papers are falling by the wayside.)

—-> Breaking news! Obama elected President in November! Sorry it took so long to tell you, we’re becoming irrelevant!

We all know about how Netflix has made viewing movies more convenient. One aspect of Netflix that I really enjoy and that is not so talked about, is how it recommends movies that I might like. I would say that 75% of those recommendations do not appeal to me, but what’s the harm in a recommendation? (Actually, certain movie recommendations can reflect poorly on your taste and hurt your pride. I would like American Pie 3? Apparently, Netflix thinks I have awful taste!)

—-> “We think you’d like Alien vs. Predator.” I hate myself.

Netflix recently recommended that I watch Mongol. I ended up watching it and really enjoyed it. I would recommend it to anyone  who, like me, enjoyed Braveheart and Last of the Mohicans. The movie is the story of Genghis Khan, from the time he is a child until he is the Khan of all the Mongols. We see him experience love and heartbreak, success and defeat. Through it all, the director, Sergei Bodrov, paints Genghis Khan as being a just, moral leader who protected the Mongols from tribal conflicts (not how I envisioned him). The cinematography is beautifully done — I enjoyed all the different landscape shots- from an old, prescient monk stumbling through the desert to save the future Khan, to Genghis Kahn as a child trekking towards snowcapped mountains to ask his deity to spare his life. There are a lot of violent war scenes, but I found them much less gruesome than Braveheart or Last of the Mohicans (no decapitations or ripped out hearts). (This film is in Mongolian and Mandarin and was nominated for the 2008 Oscar for best Foreign Language Film.)

Without Netflix, I doubt I would have ever watched this movie. It wasn’t a life-changing event, but it was entertaining. So, though I am nostalgic for the old, simple days of going to Blockbuster to rent one movie on the weekend, I can appreciate the change that Netlix brought into my life.

—–> Remember the good times? Not even a little bit? But we sell overpriced snacks!

Listen. I just want immunity from their pop up ads. Can’t I get some kind of code that grants me immunity while surfing online? Don’t they know I’m already a member?! C’mon!!

—–> Surprise! Stop enjoying your web experience and look at me! Look at me! Look at me! I don’t care that you are already a member! I don’t care! Look at me!

-Mr. Grumpy Pants

Last Wednesday I posted here about the great campaign Wieden + Kennedy has developed for Levi’s Jeans. As you can tell from the tone, I was very excited about it. In fact, I was seriously contemplating adding some 501 Shrink to Fit jeans to my wardrobe because of it.

That afternoon I sent out this tweet:

@Levisguy looking for a higher quality denim than the standard 501 Shrink to Fit. Raw, selvedge preferred. Not too $$$. Recommendations?

This is the twitter address I was sent to when I clicked the “follow us on twitter” link on the new Levi’s homepage. Despite his declaration that he’s “attempting to get everyone in a pair of 501’s” I haven’t heard back from Levisguy. A quick look at his tweets shows that he has been online and active in the last five days.

This may be a small thing, but it suggests to me that there is a disconnect between the campaign and the company’s performance.

My question now is if Levi’s is ready to live up to it’s ‘Go Forth’ campaign. Wieden + Kennedy has done a fantastic job giving them a look and feel that fits right into the zietgeist of our time. The videos are inspiring, the website uses all the interactive tools (and is really cool.) The promotional tools are in place. Is the company ready to use them?

Levi’s Jeans, I’m your customer. Are you there?

Here is an NPR report on Vin Scully calling Sandy Koufax 1962 no hitter:

Unfortunately, the only video I can find is this replication of the 4+1 game from Sept. 18, 2006 (did I ever tell you about that game I went to?). The audio is the real call from Vinny.

And the greatest of them all. Kirk Gibson’s 1988 World Series heroics. Check out what has become a signature Scully move: listen to how long he stays silent and lets the crowd roar before finally stating that now famous line, “In a season that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened.”

Sorry, if there is trouble viewing this last one. View the original here.

The new Levi’s campaign by Wieden + Kennedy (of course) “GO FORTH” is that campaign.

Make sure you check out the Levi’s website. Click on “The New Americans: A Portrait of a Country” to interact, contribute, and act.

If you like seeing behind the scenes, check out W+K’s blog for some more details on the campaign.

I was out of their TV market, the newspaper didn’t cover them (and I didn’t get the paper), the games ended too late to make it on the nightly Sportscenter. I was basically reduced to checking box scores on ESPN’s website, occasionally following the proceedings live, refreshing results every 30, 60, or 90 seconds. This was the equivalent of sitting in traffic on the 405 on a hot summer day, but without the payoff of finally arriving at the beach.

Last Wednesday morning I checked my email on the iPhone, a part of my morning ritual. MLB.com, where I subscribe to watch all out-of-market baseball games live, informed me that through their MLB AT BAT app I could now stream every game live from my iPhone. I spent the $10 as fast as my fingers could type.

Ever since I got my first generation iPhone I have been wishing it had two things: A video camera and the ability to stream baseball. iPhone 3G S made all my dreams a come true.

Wednesday evening brought the big payoff. Andrew and I were coming back from a PDX Social Media Club event and stopped at Fred Meyer for a few miscellaneous items. I decided to test out the video quality.

It was Manny bobblehead night at Dodger Stadium, but Manny was sitting out due to a sore wrist (he had been hit by a pitch the previous night.) The game was tied at 2 in the bottom of the 6th. The Dodgers managed to loaded the bases with the pitcher spot due up.

Andrew searched for a storage bin. Manny came out of the dugout to pinch hit. The Reds changed pitchers. Andrew perused the picture frames. We headed for the checkout stand. Manny hit the first pitch on a line straight into “Mannywood” (the section right inside the foul pole in left field), grand slam home run. The crowd went wild, including me as we approached the checkout stand in Fred Meyer.

This is the age we live in. Live baseball streamed to my cell phone.

Niel: I met Yoon in the early 90s when we were both in junior high. We quickly became close friends largely due to the fact that we both played the trumpet and the seating chart put us near each other in the majority of our classes. During those early teenage years as we entered high school, but before we got our drivers licenses, we kept busy in any way we could imagine. One activity that we enjoyed was working at Yoon’s dad’s liquor store on weekend nights. I can’t remember if we got paid or not, but it didn’t really matter. Smashing empty boxes behind the store, sneaking a peek at the nudie mags, and stocking the shelves inside a giant walk-around refrigerator…. What more could you ask for when you are 14 years old?

One night while we were working/messing around, a serious incident went down at the store—an underage young man purchased booze using a fake ID and was busted by undercover agents from the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control, or ABC. In addition to bringing a case against the young man, the ABC tried to say that Yoon’s dad had not asked for his ID. This is a serious charge.  A store that incurs several violations within a span of months could cause the owner(s) to lose their liquor license, which would be akin to Yoon’s family losing their livelihood.

Yoon: Niel and I were in the back drinking sodas and eating candy when I heard some arguing at the front of the store.  My dad was adamantly stating to the ABC representatives that he had specifically asked for the youth’s identification, which the officers denied.  There was one witness, a regular customer of the store, who stepped up in my dad’s defense and told him that he would serve as a witness in court if it ever came to that.  ‘That’ turned out to be one month later at a criminal trial at the county Superior Court.  The case: The People of the State of California v. my dad.

This charge against my father did not sit well with him. He had asked the youth for his ID but could not prove it because the security camera in his store was just for show—it was a video monitor but it did not record the events of the work day. To him, the criminal accusation was complete rubbish. And to show it, he refused to hire a lawyer. He had a witness—three if you include Niel and me—and a firm belief that the justice system would work in his favor. After all, he was right and the ABC officers were lying.

Niel: Yoon’s Dad, if he’ll allow me to say so, was a character. He was loud and funny and had a thick accent. Respect was important to him. He kept me on my toes, which was a good thing.

It was surreal to get permission to leave school, walk out to the curb with Yoon and hop in his Dad’s big ol’ car (I think it was a Lincoln Towncar) and head over to the courthouse as a witness. The best part by far was missing school and eating breakfast at Carrow’s, as we discussed case strategy.

When it was my time to testify, I’ll never forget placing my hand on the Bible and solemnly swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Yoon’s Dad was representing himself and as such, was the person who examined me. The funniest part was that to prove my credibility as a witness, he asked what type of grades I got in school—all As. (Nothing but the truth.)

I then gave my recollection of the night in question. Yoon and I had actually seen his Dad ask for ID and that was the gist of my testimony. The prosecutor then crossed-examined me. Though he didn’t dispute my high marks, I had no idea what kind of chance we stood.

Yoon: The inaccuracy of some details of this event highlights just how old we are now.  Since this happened almost 15 years ago, some memories are fuzzy.  But I am confident that the prosecutor was a woman.  And she ran circles around my dad.  His law skills were of course overmatched, due to his lack of training.  She objected to nearly every question he asked and understandably so. Pops made a number of errors (asking leading questions of witnesses for one) but it ultimately didn’t kill his chances for acquittal.

The government had a tough job to do—it had to provide evidence that my father had committed a crime, beyond a reasonable doubt.  Still, the son of the defendant isn’t supposed to help the prosecutor—when my dad asked me to point to the undercover ABC officer that had been at the scene that night, I made a terrible gaffe and pointed to the wrong guy seated in the gallery.  The officer was actually seated next to the prosecutor, but I swear the gallery guy looked just like him.

Before any reader ridicules me, please note that it is extremely nerve-wracking to see twelve jurors looking at you, a judge listening to you and your father staring at you with a look that says, “What the eff did you just say?”  Panicking inside, I quickly added that I wasn’t sure what he looked like.  I was devastated.  I thought I had just lost the case for my dad.  After my testimony, I quietly left the court room and waited outside.  I think may have even cried to myself.

Niel, where were you at this point?  Do you remember consoling me?  I’m sure I needed it.

Niel: That’s right. She was a woman. The details are fuzzy for me, too. I think Yoon must have gone first because he actually somehow pointed out which guy he had made the blunder on. (I am sure this is against the law, don’t tell anyone.) I don’t remember you crying, dogg. But I would have been cool about it if you did. Promise.

In my life I have spoken in front of large audiences (in two languages), performed while playing a musical instrument, and taken hugely important tests that would determine my future opportunities, and yet I can’t remember ever being more nervous than I was up on that stand.

Somehow between Yoon’s, mine, and the other witness’s haphazard testimonies—enough members of the jury were convinced that Yoon’s dad was telling the truth. The end result was a hung jury. Charges dismissed.

A few years later, after my first year in college, I had to make an appearance in that same court building for a traffic violation. All the memories came flooding back—breakfast at Carrow’s, the liquor store, and most importantly, Yoon’s dad.

Yoon: Yeah, that was a relief.  I don’t remember too much fanfare at home after the verdict.  I think we went back to school and our daily routines.  A couple years later, I got a job working at a law office in the same lot as the Carrow’s we ate at the two mornings of the trial.  I never set foot in that restaurant again.  The Day in Court was a great experience but not necessarily a pleasant one for me.  I will say this though, Niel—I’m glad you were there to support our family.  I owe you a cold one, 15 years later.

Sometimes you yearn for that energy of youth. The days where you hung out at Taco Bell on the last day of school, ordered a water and filled the cup with Mountain Dew instead. The days when you built a fire in your backyard and talked the issues of the day into the dirt with whoever showed up, solving nothing but your thirst for intellectual exploration. Days where you thought you were sneaky, cool, and funny. How does one recapture the feeling of those days without shirking responsibilities and making decisions that are harmful to your children’s futures?

Spontaneity. Doing whatever you feel like doing in the moment is a habit tossed aside after the honeymoon stage, and buried deep after kids arrive. But carving out a time and a place for spontaneity can deliver this feeling of youthful adventure.

A little over a month ago, a situation of this sort came together for Meg and me. One of my good friends from high school and his wife were moving about an hour away. Not too far, but far enough that we weren’t going to see each other as often. A few couples decided to go out to Korean barbecue together to see them off. The right amount of people mixed and mingled and out of nowhere Spontaneous Dinner Club was born. We had the second monthly installment last weekend, and I don’t see it slowing down anytime soon.

Here are a couple of elements that made this happen.

1. Time to Kill
The restaurant was a little over an hour away, so we had a certain amount of time to kill. As Laura Dannon says in Brick, “I know everyone and have all the time in the world.” To which Brendon responds, “Ah, the folly of youth.”

But, really, is there a situation that is more synonymous with youth than wasting time? I don’t think there is.

2. Close Quarters
We all drove up in the same car. There were four couples on the original trip and we had to borrow a Tahoe to fit everyone. I think it started out as a “Let’s save on gas” idea, but it wound up an essential element to the flow. You squish eight adults into a Tahoe, two of them pregnant women, and drive an hour each way, you can’t help but have unexpected conversation. It was like carpooling to the winter formal dance, but without the fancy clothes or the anxiety.

There were a couple of personalities that came out of the woodwork in this situation that pushed the experience to another level. One guy turned out to have a previously undiscovered delightful sense of comedic timing and delivery. Another one is a serial exaggerator, leading to the two of them entertaining with a discussion on the worthlessness of adhering to the truth in storytelling. Their wives looked on knowingly.

3. Up For Trying New Things
Testing the unknown always brings an element excitement. Some people liked kimchi, some didn’t. Part of the beauty of the whole thing was watching people who weren’t exactly the same types of people realize, “Hey, I can enjoy this person’s perspective and have fun with them even if we’re not exactly alike.” I know that’s a theme I’ve written about a lot lately, but I feel like it’s an important one.

On our way back home from the restaurant we decided to stop at Burgerville for shakes. The idea had been tossed around at dinner. Some were incredulous at first, but once we stopped it went over well, and is now one of the few hard and fast rules about Spontaneous Dinner Club. Which so far look like this:

1. Everyone has to ride in the same car
2. You have to go to Burgerville for shakes afterward

That’s it. Keep it fresh and you won’t go wrong.

There are thousands of books that tackle the problem of the art of storytelling, from the classics of Joseph Campbell to the more recent incarnations that find niches in marketing, screenwriting, or non-fiction. You’ve seen them, you’ve read them. How to tell a story seems like it should be intuitive. But how many times have you seen a friend fumble the ball in front of a group at a party. How many times have you been that friend? Maybe some people have the storytelling skills in their blood. But my suspicion is that they’ve practiced the art over and over until it was perfect. And that they’re heeding the words of Michael Caine.

Telling stories through moving images is what I do. If you were on the home page of this very website right now you would read: “we add ingenuity, craft, technology and compelling characters to produce engaging stories”. Over the next several weeks I’ll be posting a more in depth series that deals with the relationship between ingenuity, craft, technology, compelling characters and the art of engaging storytelling.  After all, anyone can turn a great phrase on the home page of a website. But if you’re going to tell a story the right way, you’ve got to do better than that.