The Bridal Affair

The Arizona Daily Star just hosted its twice annual fair featuring products and services for couples planning weddings and for families planning for their daughters turning 15, a 'quinceniera' which is like a southern cotillion.  

As I am new to the Star, this was my first up close and personal experience, which was a nice change from two recent events which had rocked our collective worlds:  on Thurday, January 6th, our VP of Sales resigned, and two days later, six people were gunned down in the worst mass shooting in our town since...well, I'll have to check the news archives.  Shootings in the old west were a hazard of the locale, as were stage coach robberies.  We will be covering this all year in our centennial celebration events.  (More on that later.)

Today was a balm of healing, a day meant for joy.  Nervous brides.  Overprotective fathers.  "Yes, Dear..." from the fiances.  So many decisions.  I tasted so many cakes my sweet tooth ached.   I saw so many limos I thought I was at the Oscars.  And I remembered as we planned and financed our own wedding, hopelessly in love, poor as church mice, having no idea that happily ever after would exceed our wildest dreams.  Not the way we thought when we first got married, but through our kids, the greatest joy in the world.   To get to 'Happily ever after' there were bumps in the road, detours we didn't plan, and it couldn't be rushed.  But 'Happily ever after' can be if you just let it...be. 

My job today was assisting the models in the dressing room.  SpeedBrides!  For the pre-fitting,  I helped them choose their gowns, adjusted them with pins if they were too large, took photos for their moms, and befriended many of them.  During show time, I unzipped/zipped them while they balanced on one stiletto heel and held onto me for dear life so as not to puncture the silk train and undo the elaborate veils.  One beautiful blonde from Scottsdale had just broken up with her boyfriend and vowed celibacy for a year and just treat herself right.  Well spoken and very intelligent, she set a goal for herself to write a best-selling novel.  I believe she'll do it!  Another Latina beauty, somewhat more experienced and with an artistic spirit, clearly covered her bases with a number of jobs and skills.  She clearly took nothing she has been given for granted.  I admired her work ethic and fortitude.  Another 19 year old Nicole Kidman look-alike (I swear she must have been a size zero) was majoring in psychology and minoring in marketing.  We talked about sales - she is interested in pharmaceutical sales because it is a recession-proof career with good benefits.

We had two shows, one hour each, three hours apart.  Each dress was more beautiful than the last... But the last ones for some reason weren't as comfortable and the models were in a frenzy to get them off, taffeta and sequins flying, tiaras and hairdos now hair don'ts, stilettos swapped for flip flops, and comfy sweats donned for the ride home.  I turned around... Where had my models gone?  My impish teenagers and twenty-somethings stood with duffel bags over their shoulders, grinning sheepishly.  It was hard to say goodbye.  So, we whipped out our cellphones, connected on facebook, exchanged hugs and kisses and they were gone.  

I thought about every one of them as I drove home.  These weren't empty-headed beauties who only had their looks to provide them with a career. These were formidable young women who will be running the world someday.  It's comforting to know our future is in such beautiful, capable hands.  I just want to thank their moms and mentors who raised them up to be such exemplary role models.  If you could have seen the way they carried themselves backstage and in public, they would have made you proud.

When the kids came to visit the paper

It's a slow-ish day here at the Star (it feels SO much better to call my work by the brand everyone knows!).  Everyone's off tomorrow, the ad insertion deadlines have passed, so those of us on duty are simply here getting ahead for next week (also will be slow).

I invited my husband and kids to come down for lunch in the cafeteria.  This is the second time they've visited.  There are so many cool things for them to see and experience - the presses running, the art department ("This is where art HAPPENS!" squealed my daughter, the artist.  And, of course, the newsroom, where you can feel its very pulse. 

We were lucky to run into a reporter friend of mine.  I've known him since I was in high school and he had a profound impact on the course of my life, by virtue of his being in the right place at the right time and taking me seriously about a story.  Doug Kreutz is his name.  He's tall, lanky, older and writing as much as he ever was.  He's less hard news and more features now.  Today he was writing a story about easy hikes in the Tucson area.  The kids got to see his story and photos.  He told them it will be in this Sunday's paper.  They were awestruck.  We also got to meet the newly appointed editor, Bobbie Jo Buel.  My oldest daughter commented loudly after meeting her that "I didn't know ladies got to be the BIG boss!"  Oh, my...  I worked with Gloria Steinham back in the day at AOL, and we got "Take our Daughters to Work Day" off the ground online.  Looks like I may need to do that here as well.

I was hoping to run into Dave Fitzsimmons.  He is our paper's award winning cartoonist, and has a wicked sense of humor and talks like Robin Williams on crack.   He wasn't in, but I know my youngest son would have wanted to be his best friend.  Dave is so important to our paper's brand, and is a great ambassador for news with the younger generation.  His personable demeanor and high energy level makes you want to drop everything and join the circus paper.

Between the press room, the art department, the news room, the technology support and development, and advertising and marketing, there is something to appeal to each of my kids.  I love that they can all envision themselves working here.  Maybe I will have fourth generation newsies after all...

Virtual Focus Group - for Southern Arizona parents

Ok, moms. Here's your chance. I got the green light to develop a product for moms in Tucson. Next week I am hosting four focus groups. Here are my demographics:

- New and first time moms
- Moms of multiple children
- Moms of special needs children
- Single moms

Bear in mind that we can utilize online and mobile applications (possibly print) as distribution vehicles and have the entire driving radius of your house to work with, along with the finest minds on it. (Yours!)

No wrong answers.

Discuss...

An all-hands meeting: a change in leadership

I think, in some respects, my eyes may be bigger than my stomach.  I've taken on a lot of things that may be above and beyond the job description, and smaller things keep getting pushed to the back burner.  Long story short, but something I considered small didn't get address fast enough, but it turned out to be a very big deal to someone else.  It was apparent I hadn't connected the dots, and I had egg on my face in front of a client.   

If you have a job in sales, it's easy to prioritize.  If there is money attached to it, do it.  The amount and the effort to get it should determine where the task falls on the priority list.  Low-hanging fruit first, keep the big deals cooking, and handle everything else when and if your boss reminds you about it.  Hopefully, if she's a good boss, she'll see your cash cow potential and remove obstacles, cheer you on, with course corrections as needed.

Today, I sat down with my boss and 'fessed up that if I had to grade my performance as of late, it would be 'needs improvement'.  I'm over the honeymoon period when I didn't know how much I had to learn.  She affirmed my strengths, confirmed my areas I said needed improvement, and, once again, reminded me I'm still learning.  I confessed I had thought that, compared to other challenges I'd faced, this would be easy.         

On a positive note, a new CEO was promoted from within, and his first act was to appoint a very deserving woman to Editor/Publisher.  I think so highly of them both.  I can't think of a time when I had more respect for people at all senior levels across an organization.  It really makes me want to aspire to their vision and makes me proud to work here.

A chance to breathe

I have been neglecting you, dear readers.  I have not even had time to come up for air.  9 to 5 really amounts to 7 to 6:30, and whatever time I have left I try to spend in precious allotments to each of my children.  My husband has been gracefully, adeptly taking up the slack I am evermore conscious of, and I thank him and try to show my appreciation.  He is a rock and a saint and I could not do this without him.

My email is backed up, 3 accounts worth, Christmas cards yet unwritten, presents ordered by Amazon.  Calls I need to make, friends I've neglected, organization projects in disarray pile around me like old newspapers.

I need to breathe.   My husband is off with the kids next week, and he suggested we go to our cabin for a few days.  So, we packed up, drove through the high desert and forests to the Mogollon Rim, and arrived close to midnight at our cabin in Pinetop-Lakeside.

I awoke to 6-story tall Ponderosa Pines dusted with powdery snow after the best sleep I've had in years.   The air is chilly so we congregate around the fire.  The dogs pile on the kids, each being grateful for the other's warmth.  We consider the options of the day's activities, but already I can tell it will be a lazy day with time stretching in all directions.  Perhaps it is something about the old trees, which make me feel child-like and feel more than I reason.  Distances challenge me here.  I am always surprised by how long, how far, and how slow a walk can be.

2 or 3 summers ago, before I resumed my Russian degree and Peter was finishing his Master's degree, we took the kids and had the luxury of staying here for the whole summer.  The kids learned how to bike, fish and swim in our town which some say is like "Mayberry".  It was the most beautiful time of my life, and whenever I am stressed, I return here, if only in happy memory.

I think about the tradeoff of time vs money.  How much we give up of one to have the other.   I realize, sadly, that our blossom time as a family is behind us, and now we are, each of us, caught up in the schedules and musts as we race toward our respective futures.

But here in our lovely cabin, time stops.    
 
  

We have met the enemy and it is us.

Don't get me wrong.  I still enjoy being here.  But it's clear I have my work cut out for me.

Why?  I have to be at a pricing meeting tomorrow morning at 6am sharp.

I can't say any more about it because I would be divulging proprietary information.  

There.  I just made it sound more exciting than it actually is.  I don't even want to think about how early I have to get up.  

To cheer myself up, I thought about my missionary work in working with the reps and wrote up "Mission Impossible" looking/sounding documents.  I walked around the office with the files, walked up to the reps and said cryptically... "Tell no one."

When I heard my colleagues in peals of laughter,  I knew I had succeeded in generating excitement about ongoing training.

Here's one profile for the role playing game:

"You are the wealthy heiress of an impressive family fortune.

You chose to invest it in a Dude Ranch in Southern Arizona.

You are trying to make it a destination site for elegant weddings.

You have already invested in a full page in the Bridal guide.

You think the Internet hasn't really caught on and is a waste of your time.

Money is no object.

You go with your gut, numbers don't impress you.

Nothing makes you happy."

The game works as follows..

Salespeople are matched with the profile actors.  They role play trying to sell to this character. The salesperson doesn't know anything about the profile.  I have a score card on building rapport, uncovering needs, product knowledge, appropriate solution, and identifying upsell opportunities.

The exercises are meant to help the salesperson understand how to present a total solution, including print and online.  I benefit because I learn the print side of the house.  The salesperson gets to sharpen his or her skills, and the profile actors get to ham it up, play along, and watch and learn.

One scenario involves a young marketing coordinator who is so stressed she cries during the sales call.


Another involves a marketing manager for a Japanese baseball team in spring training.  He actually speaks very good English but pretends he doesn't to find out if he gets the same story twice.  He likes to pretend he is less competent than he actually is.

Another is in product marketing tests for a large ad agency and can't divulge company information.  

Another VP of marketing for a theme park isn't who she says she is.  

I confess, I'm excited about the little treasures I've left hidden around the office.  I have something really fun to look forward to.  

Why I called the cops

It seemed harmless. My eleven-year-old autistic daughter had been making friends at school, and was getting invited to parties. I was thrilled, as was she, to find that she wasn't being invited because they felt they "had" to. They wanted to.

A pair of eighth grade girls were best friends and had invited my daughter to join their circle. One of them gave her a printed invitation with the date and time of their Halloween party, promising food, drinks, fun, music, dancing... Even a haunted house. The kids were supposed to come in costume, bring unneeded clothing for a charity project (a nice touch!) and to RSVP. My husband called and left a message.

As we drove to the party, my daughter chattered away about her friends, how she met them, etc. I gaped as I drove into the long circular driveway before a house that sprawled in all directions, easily 8000 square feet. I told her I would pick her up at ten (even though the party went until eleven thirty).

The door was ajar and we entered, following the music to a family room off he kitchen. I was greeted by a pleasant young man who introduced himself as one of the chaperones. I asked if I could meet my daughter's friends. He said they would be there between eight and eight thirty. I introduced myself to some of the other kids, and found that none of them went to my daughter's school. In a roundabout way, I learned that this was a faith-based youth group, and that the party was to collect donation for a service project benefitting a prominent charity in Tucson.

Everyone seemed very nice, and, being a youth group leader myself, I was happy to see the kids were off the streets and volunteering for the community. I saw my daughter talking with some other kids, and, seeing that she was holding her own, said goodbye, and went out to the car to call my husband to make sure he thought I was doing the right thing by leaving her there. He asked how old the chaperones were (mid-late twenties) and did anything seem 'off'. I said other than no parents being there, and my daughter's friends hadn't arrived, I said no. He suggested I give the chaperones our number, give Logan my phone, and inform them of her food allergies (she is pretty good about monitoring herself) and mild disability. I returned, explained what I felt I needed to, and exchanged numbers with the lead chaperone.

As I left, I questioned my judgement. I looked back and realized the guests were primarily adolescent girls, and the chaperones were primarily mid-twenties men. I got in the car and started to drive away and run a quick nearby errand, but I looked at the invitation again. I looked at the number the chaperone gave me, and with a quick few taps of my iPhone, realized it was a north Los Angeles area code. On a hunch, I called the RSVP number. One of the girl's parents answered.

Relieved I had reached someone who could give me answers, I started asking about the youth organization and how was the girl affiliated with them, and why she wasn't there. The mother said I was the second person who had called her, and people were showing up at her house looking for the party. I told her everything I had seen and done, but that I was turning around to go get my daughter, and on the way was calling the police because things weren't adding up. She confirmed that her daughter was currently at a different party than the one we were talking about, and would try to find her to find out what was going on. She concurred that the 'friend of a friend' connections seemed vague and that the invitation was misleading, so she didn't think it was out of line to make the call. She and I agreed to keep each other informed.

My next step was to call the cops. I was transferred to a local station, told them what I knew, and asked if there were any unusual happenings that this would fall into a similar category. They said not that they were aware of, but to trust my instincts. I went back to the party, waded through the dozen or so girls who were chatting and found the chaperone. I showed the invitation to him and let him know I called the RSVP and the girl's parents knew nothing about it. He looked at it and told me he had never seen the invitation before. I asked him to show me where my daughter was, which he did, and I informed them both we were leaving. He understood, and we collected her things and left.

As we walked out the door, I got a call from an officer who was approaching the house. We agreed to meet so I could give him the details, the actual invitation, and he could talk to my daughter. She was concerned, but provided information. As we left, I counted three police cars.

By this time, the mom of one of the girls had confirmed the identity of the youth group leader, as she checked out websites and Facebook that he was who he said he was. The officer called me as well to let me know my daughter's two friends had arrived and that the other girl's mom knew the youth group leader. I still don't know whose house it was.

Did I do the right thing? A raid on a faith-based youth group is certainly going to get around school on Monday.