They organized London’s first Ignite event where speakers were asked to “Enlighten us but make it quick.” The format, created by Brady Forrest and Bre Pettis of Seattle in 2006, has now been replicated in 50 cities. Speakers have 5 minutes and 20 slides to make their point. “It’s TED on crack” said Chris McInnis who opened the night speaking about board games. He was followed by talks ranging from urban planning to ethical development, open data to art.

While the debate continues over whether web gurus makes us distracted and dumber or more connected and caring, rtraction’s technorati use their intellectual surplus to seek solutions for their customers and the community. rtraction not only helped ignite Ignite, they sponsored London’s PodCamp, a new media unconference and ChangeCamp to promote positive change through citizen and government collaboration.

rtraction will get good brand bang for their efforts. They won’t have to go looking for talent because talent is looking up to them. In this ‘Age of Skepticism,’ saying they connect e-clients to their audiences and then actually doing it live and online amplifies their brand integrity.

Integrity can become legacy. In the late 1990s Media mogul Ted Turner gave a billion in Time-Warner stock to the United Nations saying “We can no longer measure the value of a life by net worth!” He publicly chastised Bill Gates and Warren Buffet for not doing enough.  Gates reportedly said that it wasn’t the right time to focus on philanthropy.  Turner didn’t,  pun intended, buy it.

In fact, New York Times Op-Ed columnist Maureen Dowd reported Turner’s rebuttal “They should do it no-o-ow.” Gates did. He launched his foundation with 17 billion in 1999.  By 2007, Bill was sitting in a funky red leather chair beside Steve Jobs on stage at D: All Things Digital, Wall Street Journal’s Executive Conference.

A blue suited, jeans wearing audience member asked about legacy. Steve answered “I think the  world’s a better place ’cause Bill realized his goal is not to be the richest guy in the cemetery.” Truthfully that was never Bill’s goal. His goal  was to put a computer on every desk and his innovations made him rich. Now the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, whose third partner is Warren Buffet,  use innovation to improve education and health across the globe.  You can be the best in the world and… the best for the world. Nice.

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The Ted Turner chastises Gates and Buffet story is from  Career Warfare by David F. D’Allessandro, CEO of John Hancock. Turner’s  direct philanthropy quote was found on  journalist Jim Freeman’s  site www.opinion-column.com.

BlackBerry is acting desperate and here’s why: Apple’s Q1 financials report that iPhone sales have doubled in the past quarter compared to last year. (In fact, Apple generated more profit than ever  – $3.38 billion.)

What does a frightened BlackBerry do? They try to out Apple Apple.  They don’t just use cool people in their ads they use TOTALLY COOL people. But like the geek at the party who buttons their hip shirt right to the Adam’s apple,  BlackBerry Messenger commercials don’t fit because it’s not who they are – it’s who they want.

BlackBerry Messenger (BBM) ads are full of funky, ethnically diverse, urban entrepreneurs.  I love the look and I get what BBM’s doing. Micro-entrepreneurs are hot especially compared to traditional business people who are now associated with oil spills, banking ills and corporate bail outs. Using BlackBerry’s traditional market as spokespeople is a tough sell because people no longer trust big business.

BBM escapes the office and goes street. A cool barber shares snaps of snips. A retro car guy has a social media group called ‘Death Sleds’,  a Hollywood artist clicks a pic and sells his blue skull art lamp while his BOYfriend nods and texts beside him

A surfer, who looks remarkably like a young Guy Kawasaki (former Apple marketing genius now venture capitalist) tells us, with an Ivy league lilt to his voice, that he uses his BBM to message “Meet up at the 2nd cove. It’s where we are. Killer…let’s go.”  It might be where he is but the ‘suits’ are checking their crackberries under the board (bored) room table.

No one lines up to buy a BlackBerry. They are not and have never been cool.  Their first plastic model looked like something a faded Smurf sat upon. Business didn’t care. They became speed and functionality addicts. Business made RIM rich and VIPs  – Barak Obama, Richard Branson and Oprah – made them famous.  (Now there’s a name for a phone – The VIP).

BlackBerry’s Applephobia has made them forget who loves them and why. By copying iPhone’s demographic, ignoring their own and trying to be cool – something it has never been – they look afraid, ungrateful and unauthentic.

What must Blackberry do? Profile some ‘corporates’  worthy of admiration.  Heck, profile themselves. It’s time for fierce brand integrity. Ironically, the best demonstration of this principle is Apple’s serenely vicious ad campaign “I’m a Mac. I’m a PC.”  The smartphone battle is on and Team Canada needs to take another shot.

Why does this fruit fight matter to you? For those of you who market yourself or your organization, cherish and mirror the customers who love you. Know them better than anyone else then serve them better than anyone else. And never get so scared you let the competition dictate who your ideal customer should be or who you should be.

(Confession time: So this envelope arrives and I’m squealing with joy and then it hits me. I’ve only just figured out how to give. Don’t get me wrong, I love giving prezzies and gifts of my time and talent. But I’ve only figured out how to do it without my greedy ego pouting because I’m not acknowledged like a Nobel Prize winner.  I’m no longer the emotional toddler grasping to eat praise like fistfuls of birthday cake. I used to give because it made me feel like someone. Now I give because living generously rocks.  Sure my ego still rises up demanding praise but I’ve learned to sigh, laugh at myself and let the gift go. I just started giving anonymously, which is the ultimate clean giving.)

And now… it’s happened to me and it is lovely.  Whoever you are, you sent a such thoughtful prezzie. Each pin is beautiful and because kindness is some kind of gorgeous, so are you.

Thank you,

L

The Canadian Blood Services is doing a survey. “We Value Your Opinion” it says quoting I don’t know whom. Instead of a survey they would be wiser  if they came and watched Marianne and then hired more people just like her.

The Divine Miss M arrived at my portable recliner bedside with a full on smile. “I know you are waiting for Hutch but I’ll set you up” she said. Then she bent down to place my blood bag or whatever you call the soon to be full snack sack of vampire juice on to the thingy whatsit on the floor. Only Miss M didn’t bend. She placed one foot forward and one foot back. Head up, she bent her forward knee and maintained a royal, heads up posture throughout her graceful descent. Impressed yet somewhat concerned by her artful lunge, I asked, “Do you have a bad back?”

“No, I’m a diva.” She giggled. I guffawed.

“I’m top heavy” Miss M explained. “If I bend down, I go down”.

I laughed even louder. “I’m bottom heavy” I confessed.

“I love my… ” (Miss M pointed to her derriere).

“I love my assets too” then I paused and added, “girlfriend.” Bonding at the blood bank. I told Marianne “You are the highlight of my day,” and I meant it. The Divine Miss M is a beautiful woman, the kind of beauty that emanates from character. She sparkles at work. In fact, she wears the kind of joy oh joy eye shadow glitter that little kids adore.

Nowhere in the Canadian Blood Services survey am I asked, “Did anyone delight you today? Did anyone give you something to laugh about so you didn’t think about being pricked to death with a needle the size of Lady GaGa’s stiletto?”

Workplaces used to complain about absenteeism. Now they complain about presenteeism: people turn up but they are absent. They quit but they stay. We create measures for workplace performance such as did the receptionist say thank you for donating blood, yes or no? But we forget that while it’s important to measure what matters not all that matters can be measured.

If we don’t create ways of noticing the exceptional we won’t appreciate it, reward it or replicate it. I loathe giving blood. Anyone who makes it joyful deserves recognition. Marianne, this is for you, your boss and anyone who chooses NOT to leave their heart at home when they head out for work.  Glitter on girlfriend.

Find your exceptional people then watch, listen and learn. No survey will teach you what you could learn in seven minutes watching a star.

PS – turns out The Miss M’s boss found this blog and showed it to her. Now that’s sweet.

I am a chronic loser of gloves and mitts. I only lose one, the right. I take it off to do something and before you can say “Louise, put it in your pocket” poof it’s gone. My wife teases me that it’s time to string my gloves through my coat sleeves like a kindergarten kidlet, but I’m afraid if I did that my coat would disappear.

I am one of 4300 people who lost something at the Olympics. Specifically, an adult small, red Olympic mitten. Yes, that mitt, the cutesy, can’t buy ‘em anymore, 7.2 million dollar fundraiser that made it onto Oprah. I lost it, my bad. I searched. I reported it. Nada. Then I emailed Vancouver’s Translink Lost Property Department.

Subject Line: Lost Right Olympic Mitt, Adult Small

Dear Lost and Found Angel,

I’ve lost a mitt…

I explained that I wanted to frame my mitts to remind me to stay strong. Joannie Rochette’s Olympic bronze medal winning free skate brought tears to my eyes.  Her mom had died three days before. Years before, I competed after my dad died. I’ve skated when my mom was going through cancer. You think you’ll never forget those lessons of resilience, but I wanted a reminder.

A sweet email came back from Barb Szumilak, Work Force Leader with the Coast Mountain Bus Company. Before you could say “hold that glove” a manila envelope arrived, with…the wrong mitt. Any sane person would have stopped there. Feeling ridiculous, embarrassed and precious, I wrote again. Apologizing more than a certain golf guy, I asked if I should return it.

“No don’t send it back. Let me see what I can do,” said Barb. A second envelope arrived, faster than the first. I tore it open, wow.  Wow, Wow, Wow, Wow. A pair!  A beautiful, clean and much newer looking set than my lonely, pilled widow. Barb’s business card was nestled inside the cuff of the right mitt. I emailed her immediately and said THANK YOU over and over, using capitals and way too many exclamation marks for someone my vintage.

Secretly, I called Barb’s office. Andrew answered. I asked, “Is Barb a Tim Horton’s or a Starbuck’s person?”  I eavesdropped on the office buzz. Survey said “Starbucks.” Then I had to ask, “Andrew, are you all like Barb?  What’s it like to work there?”

“Well, people aren’t very nice to you when they’ve lost something. They are upset and often angry. We treat people nice. We bring that energy to them.” He actually said those words. They were committed to the positive. So West Coast, so lovely, so wow.

P.S.

Spoiler alert: don’t tell Barb her prezzie is in the snail mail

I am celebrating talent, your talent. Each of you brought just the right ‘thing’ to the show. But that thing, your gift, your genius is more delicate than a hummingbird’s heart in winter. Protect it.

If you are an artist you are not average, nor will you ever have an average life. If you are an artist you won’t be content on the merry-go-round of sameness that most people call living. If you are an artist, your genius will demand an eyes wide open, front row seat on life’s big roller coaster.

Some days you will feel stronger than oak; other days you will find your faith plummeting while monsters of fear and doubt rise. You might ask yourself “What’s the f…ing point? Why should I keep going? What does it matter? Who do I think I am?” Read these words on that day.

You have a gift. You are called to use everything that brought you to this moment. That means taking all you have been and all that you are: not just to create art but to craft a life worth living. What is the thing you just must do? What makes your heart sing? The cost of not doing it is misery, anxiety and depression.

Very few people will ‘get’ that when you are ‘called’ you have to listen and then act. People will think you are eccentric at best or nuts at worst. But I know something. While my best ideas may feel like they burst out of the blue unbidden that doesn’t mean they come from nowhere.

Your inexplicable knowing comes from the same unfathomable source of eurekas that have astonished artists, entrepreneurs and scientists since ideas mattered. If you stop paying attention to your tiny, daily nudges of knowing you starve your creativity and murder possibility.

You have a gift. When you align your talent with the world’s deepest hunger, you go from “What do you want out of life?” to  “What does life want out of you?” (This question of Parker J. Palmer’s from Let Your Life Speak: Listening For The Voice of Vocation haunts me still.)

When we are brave enough to do what we are meant to do, we become who we are meant to be. Work becomes not a checklist but a calling. We get excited, and yes, sometimes exhausted – but not because we are crazy, busy existing.

P.S. Thank you to Chris McInnis for your friendship and edits.

Before us, a group of ‘All Blacks’ were frantically taping New Zealand flags to every surface available. Adam Hall’s peeps, mom, dad, and a gang larger than Al Capone’s were jittery with anticipation or jet leg, it was hard to tell which. I watched the women then the men race. Seeing Paralympians ski is like having your ‘no can do’ attitude hit by a ‘go for it’ avalanche. Witnessing someone with no arms ski, fall and  stop themselves with their head, then get up and get going makes you ask ‘what am I doing with what I’ve got?’

Adam Hall was born with spina bifida, he has limbs but his spine doesn’t back them up. Tell that to the clock. He won his first race by five seconds, which is insanely amazing. I watched his mom crumple into a barely breathing, trying not to sob, quivering, texting momma. Adam wiped out on his second run.  He still won gold. Why?  He obviously trained hard, champions do, but I saw something more. He had the power of a pack. Family and friends left their dairy farm in Outram on the Tairei Plains to fly 11,000+ kms to be there for him. Dressed up, flags up and temporary tattoos everywhere, these Kiwis loved him big.

‘Being there’ for someone is powerful. It’s the 1 + 1 equals 11 phenomenon I saw at work Monday night.  I led a brandstorming exercise for a client who has Trump-like business skills but way better hair. To find a new brand framework that would work for all four of his businesses, I asked him to gather his pack (clients who became friends and people who adore him.)

My client doubted we would find anything. He’s smart and he had been trying for a while. But I side with Les Brown who said, “You can’t see the picture when you are in the frame.” There are times we can’t be successful if we continue to work alone. Some problems are one genius problems, others are pack problems. We need company. We need it for the comic relief and for the inspiration. Same old, same old gives us same and old.

Creativity thrives with generous people, good music and a light-hearted approach. (The beer and pizza didn’t hurt, though after two sips I stopped. I never could drink, think and lead, so much for a career in politics). A pack gives us the disco ball effect. Many people mirroring back bits of our brilliance gives a brand new perspective. Albert Einstein said it best “You cannot solve a problem from the same consciousness that created it. You must learn to see the world anew.”

In one hour, I trained seven brains and we got the brand. The pack was, like Adam’s, there for him. A mix of individual persistence and collective support brought home different kinds of gold for two determined good guys.

P.S. Adam’s site is http://www.kiwiskiracer.com/

As markets fragment and attention spans shrink, branding and design take on added significance. The Games remind us  that we when compete for attention every message needs thoughtful focus whether in text or textile.

I lived the Olympic/Paralympic brand from tip to zip.  Tip being the cheerful hair flattening tuque and zip being the zipper pull that bore the same crosshatching as the iconic blue/green wild/cityscape found on every fence, flag and crash pad. I was assigned  to VANOC’s (Vancouver Olympic Committee) Whistler Medal Plaza. While there I over heard high drama,  “Bravo 10, this is Bravo 8, Bravo 10 we have a white Caucasian male smoking a joint by the Portapotty closest to exit PSA 2.”). More importantly, I also witnessed three brand performance strategies at work.

1. True to You: The Games are essentially a franchise with each host city putting their brand spin on the event. Vancouver is a ‘green city’ not only because it is enviously snow free but because people eat more tofu here than anywhere in the nation. Okay I made that up, but it could be true. After all, this province’s citizens chained themselves to old growth trees to save them; they have the criminal pardons to prove it.

Vancouver’s vibe is green geographically and ideologically. The west was one of the last provinces to be ‘conquered.’ More than any other province, they realize the national anthem would be more accurate if we sang ‘Oh Canada, our home on native land’ instead of ‘our home and native land.’

2. Ride The Vibe: In addition to partnering with four founding First Nations to host the Olympics, Vancouverites have a slightly different relationship with the natural world than let’s say New Yorkers. The only wild life Manhattanites see is Lindsey, Britney and Paris without underpants. ( I could make clear cut comments but discretion is the better part of valor). BC folk might also see whales on their way to work and I’m not talking about people leaving an all you can eat breakfast buffet.

The VANOC design team blended a wild and urban vibe in its iconic images. Helicopters had dragonfly wings, “With Glowing Hearts’ had skate blade etchings running through each word and undulating blue waves had computer mother board patterns rising and falling like tech stocks. BC tries to live ‘green’ and so it is fitting that VANOC chose hip, organic imagery and a mission that espoused sustainability.

3. Channel Pablo: As I traveled the Sea to Sky highway from Vancouver to Whistler, I was struck by how perfectly VANOC’s design team replicated the eminent colour palate of Canada’s west coast. Looking left and right one sees bright blue sky, ocean then lakes, shocking white snow against verdant green Douglas firs and dark grey, spiky mountains. Four colours: blue, white, green, dark grey/black. These were the colors of the games. (Even when it was raining there were still four colours: light grey, grey, dark grey, black. Kinda like falling inside an Ansel Adams photograph.)

If you are engaged in a branding exercise, it is wise to stop, see and sense what surrounds you. Channel Pablo Picasso. He said “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.” What would a child-like mind see? Powder white, coastal green, wave blue? People revolting against environmental degradation? Wander and wonder around to embrace your brand’s authenticity.

I flew to Vancouver and then I flew back. On Friday March 5th, I applied online to be a volunteer at the Paralympics. The next day I was interviewed, and faster than you can say sledge hockey, I was back in Whistler receiving a uniform and role: Team Leader at the Whistler Medals Plaza, God help me. I knew nothing and no one. My neighbour’s son, Whistler lawyer Sholto Shaw, kindly opened his home so I had a bed and a host. Hire him: he has the decency gene, looks like a movie star and eats whole wheat pasta. I know I peeked in his cupboard. (Plus, his mom told me he’s been voted Whistler’s best lawyer for four years.) Check him out at www.raceandcompany.com/lawyers/sholto.htm

It was time for my first meeting but I was afraid to put on my Smurf blue uniform; the minute you do people ask you questions and questions were all I had. The next day, armed with the knowledge of a gnat, I dressed for my first shift. As I put my arm inside the left sleeve of the jacket, I noticed the inner mesh pocket perfectly designed to hold the Team 2010 notebook. Sewn on top of the Velcro closure were the words “With Glowing Hearts/Desplus Brillants Exploits.”

The Olympics are all about wow and here, in this tiny moment, was mine. I didn’t know why I felt compelled to return to Vancouver. Maybe it was the unbridled joy and strategic resistance on Vancouver’s usually chillaxed streets (thank you activists for your tent city). Maybe it was because every time  I saw volunteers, they were so genuinely delighted to be of service that I wanted to join. Maybe the answer was this literal tagline “With Glowing Hearts.”

I watched the Paralympic Opening Ceremonies and  saw athletes in wheelchairs clearly loving walking in even if they had to roll. A few walked like my Dad, a leg swung out from the hip instead of bending at the knee. It was in the presence of that absent moment, the body’s engineering miracle of a knee bend that I was reminded of him.

Polio gave my father a broken walk. The older he got the more he fell and the more he fell the more he broke. Not his spirit, he never complained. I grew up in the shadow of this courageous man without realizing it until he and his shadow were gone. I had come back to give back; just don’t ask me where to park.

When Staff Sgt Williams James, played by Jeremy Renner, pulls a string and raises five bombs from the sandy street, encircling him like a pinwheel, he simply says ‘oh boy.’ Surrounded,  he becomes a metaphor of our time. In the battle he finds himself and in the grocery store of a million choices that don’t matter, he is lost.

We are surrounded by bombs just under the surface. The environment, war, billions of people who live on less than a dollar a day, mounting deficits, profound human rights violations and overly optimistic politicians. While Paris Hilton’s pooch sleeps on a more comfortable bed than Haitians could hope for, Chile quakes and finds itself hoping the world isn’t suffering from compassion fatigue.  Films like The Hurt Locker, The Cove, Precious and even Avatar in its own way, challenge us to face what’s real and deal. Bravo, bravo, now let’s be brave.