Golf is Officially Boring Again

I have a hard time picking my sports heroes.  My childhood sports hero was O.J. Simpson, of my beloved Buffalo Bills.  We all know how that turned out.  It was obvious that O.J. was guilty but I will confess that, during the whole murder trial, I kept hoping that "the real killer" would be found.

I'm sure you know that O.J was a big golfer.  I started to play golf, too, about 12 years ago.  I'm not good at it but I enjoy playing.  I like it because it's one of those games where you can compete against yourself.  When I'm playing, I'm focused on that quest to hit that one great drive or sink that one long putt.  One of those per round, and I feel like there's hope for me.

I started to play golf right around the time that Tiger Woods turned pro.  I quickly became a big Tiger Woods fan.  The thing that really drew me to Tiger was his killer instinct.  He almost never lost a lead.  In the final round, the other pros seemed to play not to lose.  Tiger wasn't that way.  He'd build a lead and then just stretch it further and further out of reach, never looking back.

Another thing I admired about Tiger was his attitude.  He didn't just think he could win -- he played like he had an obligation to win.  Compare that to Phil Mickelson's attitude.  How many times have you seen Phil's "Aw, shucks" smile when he makes a good shot?  Phil doesn't act like he expects to win, he acts like he's embarassed to win.  Because of that, he'll always just be Fat Phil to me.

Of course, now everything's changed.  Tiger's fallen from grace, he's lost his competitive mojo, and none of the other guys are scared of him anymore.  Without Tiger on top, golf has officially become boring again.  I tried to watch the final round of this weekend's tournament but, with Tiger in 44th place, I just couldn't do it.  Fat Phil was in contention and I couldn't have cared less. 

Somebody in Singapore is Reading My Blog -- And My Mother is, Too

One of the cool things about Blogspot is that it gives me all kinds of statistics about readership.  I get counts of how many hits I get per day, which posts generate the most views, and even the countries where those views are happening.  That's how I know that someone in Singapore has read my blog.  I wonder what's up with that?

Of course, my mother is also reading my posts.  This morning, I got an e-mail from her saying "I read your last entry.  You know I don't like that language."  Yes, I do know. 

Her e-mail got me thinking about why I'm writing this blog.  I'm clearly not writing it just for me.  If that were the case, I could simply keep a journal.  But, it's not for a targeted audience either.  If it were, I'd need to pick a specific topic or stick to a consistent theme for my posts.  I don't want to do that.

There a couple reasons I'm blogging.  I can't lie -- a large part of it is that I think my thoughts are so darn fascinating  (edited for you, Mom) that there has to be audience out there for them.  Another part of it is that this makes me feel like I'm "creating" something.  Selling insurance products and consulting on HR issues have their moments but it's difficult to see the concrete impact that they have.  This blog feels different.  The final part is that there's some discipline required for this and I like that.  I'm trying not to post simply to post but I think it's kind of cool that people check this site out every day.  I want to have something there for them so that they don't go away disappointed.

OK, enough seriousness.  How about that Charlie Sheen? I saw an online report this morning saying that even Lindsay Lohan is concerned about him.  Can we just send him to Dr. Drew already? 

"Shitting Together is a Good Start"

When I heard that Democrats and Republicans, in a show of bipartisanship, were going to break with tradition and sit together during last night's State of the Union address, I wondered what that would do to the amount of applause that President Obama received.  You may have heard about this whole sitting together thing.  I hadn't until yesterday morning when I  heard a replay of a clip of first-term Congressman Michael Grimm (R-NY) on a weekend news show.  When asked about the plan to sit with members of the opposing party, he responded that "Shitting together is a good start."  You read that right.

I have a tough time with the State of the Union address.  I used to look forward to it.  It was a good opportunity to hear the President lay out his agenda for the year and state his case for the legislation he wished to have enacted.  Whether I agreed with the President or not, watching the State of the Union address helped me form my own opinions about the political issues of the day.

Unfortunately, in recent years, State of the Union addresses have become really hard to watch.  The constant interruptions for applause kill me.  It's like watching a bad sitcom with the laugh track repaced by an applause track.  What is a laugh track really?  It's a move by a network executive who either isn't confident that the show is actually funny or doesn't trust you to form your own opinion.  It's the same thing with the State of the Union address.  The party in power doesn't want to take any chances with you while you watch from home.  Their constant applause appears to be their attempt to make you think that the President has good ideas rather than letting you decide for yourself.

And these applause interruptions have been getting worse.  George Bush was interrupted by applause an average of 70 times during each of his State of the Union addresses.  In his first two, Barack Obama averaged 75 applause interruptions.

You may not have been counting at home so here's the final tally for you.  There were 76 applause interruptions last night.  I'm not sure that shitting together was a good idea after all.

I'm Lovin' It

Today is Jay's birthday.  A traditional birthday cake just wouldn't fit the bill for him this year.  Instead, he opted for something a little bit different:

Mmmm.

Each apple pie came with a "Use Thru" date and time stamp sticker.  How cool is that?  Mine both said "Use Thru 8:15PM 1/24/11."  That's right, I said "both."  I took my last bite at 7:20PM so I should be OK, right?  For your answer, check back later this week to see if I'm still here.

By the way, it was really tempting to post about Oprah's newly found half-sister.  It took a lot of self-restraint for me to skip that one.

I Think I Just Might Get "Jersey Shore"

I just watched Syracuse finish losing to Villanova.  I watched it off and on and Villanova was comfortably in front most of the game.  I kept waiting for Syracuse to make a run and they finally did with about 3 minutes left but Villanova came right back and, within 30 seconds, had put it out of reach once and for all.

Anyway, the game wasn't really holding my interest so I started flipping channels and came across "Jersey Shore."  As much as I try to keep up with what's current amongst the teenybopper set, I've never had any interest in figuring out what the deal is with "Jersey Shore."  I read US Weekly often enough to know  Snooki, J-Wow, Pauly D, and the Situation.  I could even pick most of the cast out of a line-up.  But, the whole thing just has seemed a bit too trashy, even for me.

Well, I just watched the last 10 minutes of an episode and I think I might get it.  They all appear to be complete idiots but I think their charm is that they know that but don't care one bit as long as they've done their best.

First, one of the guys (I think it was Pauly D) decided that it was time to eat.  I don't know what time of day it was but I get the sense it was early in the morning.  He took a bunch of turkey burgers out of the freezer, tried to defrost them by running them under water in the sink, but gave up on that.  Finally, he just tossed the whole frozen mess of them, wrappers and all, on the grill in one big lump.  Then he started to pry them apart with the spatula while they sat on the grill.  One or two fell on the ground; he just picked them up and threw them back on the flames.  Soon enough, he had some great looking burgers (he even toasted the buns) and the rest of the gang came down for a feast.  By the end, everyone had declared him the grillmaster and he had a huge smile of success on his face.

The other highlight (lowlight?) was Snooki getting arrested on the beach in the middle of the day.  She was completely trashed.  I have no idea why since I missed the beginning of the episode.  Her two friends were trying to drag her off the beach before she drew more attention to herself but it didn't work.  The cops came along, put Snooki in cuffs, and hauled her off to the station.  Her friends than ran home, called Snooki's dad, and told him that she'd been arrested for "drunken public intoxication."  I mean, what other kind of public intoxication is there?  Nevermind that.  Snooki's friends were just happy that they'd called Snooki's dad so that he didn't have to hear the news from anyone else.

So, at the end of the day, Pauly D was happy because he'd made sure that his friends were well fed and Snooki's friends were happy because, even though she was in the slammer, they'd done their best to take care of her.  And isn't that what life is all about?

Hitting the "Send" Button

I've been in sales for 15 years now, in one capacity or another.  It started during my first stint at Mercer when, after doing my time as a cubicle dweller, I got bumped up to an office.  Along with the promotion came a "Sales Goal."  Huh?  I wasn't a salesman.  I was a consultant.  My job was to do good client work and meet my billable hours goal.  What was up with this selling stuff?  Wouldn't prospects be knocking on my door asking to work with me?

Over time, I think I've developed some decent sales skills and I've had my share of success.  I've gone from selling ideas at Mercer to selling transactional services at Aetna and back again.  I've had the opportunity to make sales presentations to organizations with 100 employees and organizations with 100,000 employees and countless others in between.  I've closed deals with annual revenue in excess of $100 million.  I've come to like sales quite a bit.  And, while I've been plenty nervous in sales situations, I've never felt pressure -- until now.  You see, before now I never had to press the "send" button on a proposal.

During my first stint at Mercer, the final proposal was always sent out by a member of the administrative team.  At Aetna, we had a sales support organization in Hartford that did the honors.  But, this time around at Mercer, when the proposal is ready to go, it's me who hits the "send" button.

I just sent out another proposal yesterday afternoon.  The opportunity is a good one.  I assembled a strong team.  We came up with a strategy that will work.  We described that strategy (in a crisp and concise 62 pages!).  We agonized over the price and finally reached consensus.

All that should have been the hard part.  But, the hardest part of the whole exercise was hitting the "send" button.  Yesterday, after reviewing the proposal for the umpteenth time, I literally drafted the cover e-mail, inserted the proposal, and then took a time out for lunch.  Who knows what I thought might change in the interim.  Was I going to get a bright new idea?  Was I going to come up with a pricing option that hadn't already been considered?  Was the prospect going to call up and say "No need to send the proposal -- we're going to hire you without one."  Of course not.  But, I held off anyway.  I guess I was waiting for some sort of sign from God to go ahead and hit "send."  It didn't come.

So, after eating lunch, it was back upstairs to work.  The e-mail was there waiting for me.  I gave it one more quick read, took a deep sigh, moved the mouse to the "send" button, and clicked it.  And there it went.

It's been 24 hours.  I'll follow up with the prospect in a few days.  If things go well, we'll have a finalist meeting and make a presentation.  It would be a great win for us and taking the work from a competitor will feel real good.  But, I'm not worried about any of that.  The hardest part is over.

I'm Too Young for This

I rarely skip my morning run.  I really enjoy getting out there each morning.  It clears my head and gets me ready for the day.  It's gets tough to head out each day in the winter when it's dark and cold but how else am I going to maintain my youthful appearance?

This morning, I got back from my run while Kim was eating breakfast.  She had the TV on and I caught an ad for a new drug called Stelara.  Drug ads are great.  The story lines, images, and acting are always top notch.  If you have a free five minutes, try to create your own.  It's pretty easy.  Earlier this week, Jay and I came up with a disease (Ugliosis), a drug to treat it (Beautopa), and the ad copy ("I used to take a lot of risks when I was younger.  I would ask the pretty girls to go out with me even though I knew they wouldn't say yes.  I'd spend all my money on nice clothes thinking that would help.  But nothing worked.  Now there's finally hope with Beautopa.").  We even came up with a list of potential side effects.  Kind of a fun game.

Anyway, I'd never seen the Stelara ad before.  Because drug ads are always so great, I started to pay attention.  On screen, a woman was packing a suitcase. Then, she picked up a piece of paper.  It read "Edwards High School: Class of 1985 Reunion."

That's when the panic hit me.  1985 is the year I graduated from high school.  You mean there's a drug out there just for me?  Do I need it?  Am I old?  Is my body falling apart?  Do I need a confidence boost just so I can go to my high school reunion?  I was so worked up I didn't even pay attention to the rest of the ad.  Five minutes before, I'd just finished my run and was feeling pretty good about myself.  I'd done 10 miles this weekend.  But now, all those good feelings were gone.  All I knew was that I needed Stelara.

Well, it turns out I don't need it.  I just went on line and saw that it's for psoriasis.  I don't have that so I breathed a small sigh of relief.  But now the nagging doubt is there.  Maybe I am getting old.  Maybe I could use a confidence boost.  Thanks, Stelara.

My Super Awesome Home Office

Since going back to work for Mercer, I've really become a work-at-home guy.  I no longer have a team reporting to me so I don't feel an obligation to be in the office.  Plus, I have to pay for parking for the first time ever and I'm having a real hard time with that.  It just seems like a waste to drive 50+ miles round trip, sit in an office that offers nothing beyond what I can get at home, and - on top of all that - pay $9 each day to park.  I'll hop in the car to go to a meeting any time, but it's become real hard to go into the office just for the sake of being seen.

There's one big disadvantage to working from home.  I really miss my time in the car listening to Howard Stern.  I know he's a polarizing person but I love him.  In all the years I drove to work, I left the house between 6AM - 6:30AM.  At that time in the morning, Howard very rarely has a guest in studio.  Instead, it's just he and the crew talking about their lives and families and making observations about the previous day's events.  It's always been my favorite part of the show and I miss that.

The other disadvantage to working from home is that I'm a nomad.  At first, I worked in our bedroom but it was too loud for me when the kids were home from school.  So, I headed down to the basement.  It was much quieter but there aren't any windows in the bedroom where I was working and my "desk" was an old vanity table.  Then I realized that Hannah's bedroom was sitting empty.  I started working up there in the late fall.  When she came home for winter break in mid-December, I was banished back to the basement.  Now, that she's gone back to school, I've got my workspace again.  I am so happy.

I love my desk.  Trust me, nobody else at Mercer has a pink chair. 

I've got my own private executive washroom.

Whenever I need inspiration, I just look to my "guys."

If I have a bad call, I know my friends are still there for me.

When I finally get that big sale, there may even be room on the trophy shelf for me.

I'm Getting There

The big news at tonight's dinner was that Jay referenced my blog in his homework assignment in English.  He had to write a persuasive argument on the topic "Should children under age 12 be allowed to play contact sports?"  Jay took the position (surprise, surprise) that of course they should.  To support his argument, he used the Ed Rendell quote about our country becoming a nation of wusses and cited my entry on mikes-shed.blogspot.com.  He only knew about the quote because he read it right here.  How awesome is that?  I wonder if his teacher will check his sources?

To make things even better, I logged on to write this post and saw I actually have a follower. Thanks, Julie.  If you're not reading her blog already, check it out at http://speakingofblog.blogspot.com/.  It's what I hope this can be when I finally get this blogging thing all figured out.

Stop Whistling!

We were just watching Penn State beat Michigan State in basketball.  It was nice that they won but it was a bit embarassing -- all 250 students at the game stormed the court at the end.  They may have set a record for the smallest number of "court stormers" ever.

At one point towards the end of the game, I started whistling.  I would have kept on whistling forever if Jay hadn't finally yelled "Stop whistling!"

Jay's not the first person to tell me to stop whistling.  Our friend and neighbor Trip has to tell me to stop all the time.  He's got some sort of hearing problem where high-pitched noises make his head hurt.  Maybe he's a werewolf.  Neecie was my co-worker years ago at Slade's in the back kitchen.  We used to make desserts, side dishes, crab cakes, and sauces together for hours on end listening to the same piped-in restaurant music over and over.  At some point every shift, I'd start whistling only to have her scream (in her great Caribbean accent and often with a very large knife in her hand) "Mike, I will kill you if you don't stop whistling."  I'd stop -- for a while.

Anyway, it got me thinking about great songs with whistling in them.  Here are 3 from my iPod:
- The Pixies: La La Love You (This is the best cat call whistle ever recorded in song.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnx3lzPIZ6U
- Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros: Home (I had to give you the Letterman appearance - nothing beats live whistling and they're having so much fun.  I bet you love Jade, too, by the end of the performance.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qb9jY8yAxgs
- Peter, Bjorn, and John: Young Kids (The video even starts with a whistling tutorial).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51V1VMkuyx0

Ed Rendell is Right

Ed Rendell, Pennsylvania's Governor, got a lot of press after he said America is becoming "... a nation of wusses" after the recent Eagles - Vikings game was postponed due to a snow storm.  I'm pretty sure he's right.  I woke up this morning to find that school is delayed by two hours after the fierce snowstorm we got last night.  Here's why:

By the way, go read Rendell's entire quote (you can find it here: http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=5960674).  It's great.


Well, I'm off.  Got to go see the first screening of "Season of the Witch."  Wouldn't want to miss that masterpiece.

Wally is Back

We had friends visit with us at Fox Point for New Year's.  We started talking about our earliest memories and how difficult it is to remember anything real specific much before the age of 10.  The five most vivid memories I have of life before 10 are:


- Almost drowning in a wading pool.  I think I was three but I remember this pretty vividly, particularly the part where I was saying to myself (in toddler speak) "Hello?  Is anyone else noticing that I've been underwater for a long time?"
- Having chicken pox (along with everyone else in the house).  My poor Aunt Delores had to take care of all of us while my parents were stuck at the hospital in a snowstorm while Joanna was born.
- Having boils on my butt that kept me home from school for a week or two.  Fun, right?  This pretty much consisted of laying on the couch and taking Sitz baths.
- Almost drowning (again) while trying to show my mom how well I could swim when she came to pick me up at swimming lessons.  I swam out to the middle of the pool, waved to show her how great I was doing, and then proceeded to sink like a stone.  Can you believe I actually became a lifeguard?
- Getting "attacked" by a dog.  Being underneath the dog was terrifying.  I now realize that the dog wasn't really attacking me.  He just jumped up on me to say "hello" and managed to knock my little body over.  Then, he stuck his face in mine to continue his greeting and slobbered all over me.  The whole thing probably lasted 5 seconds but it really did feel like an eternity.


The dog "attack" led to a pretty strong fear of dogs.  Some of that fear is still there.  But, Kim loves dogs and, several years ago, we got our first.  Luke was a beagle mix with a wonderful disposition.  He was the perfect first dog for someone like me.  After he died, we got Ginger, another beagle mix.  Ginger is a piece of work.  I don't know what happened to her while she was out on her own, but she's wrestling with some serious demons.  Still, we love her.  In order to make her adjustment to life with the Bucci's a bit easier, we decided to get her a playmate after we'd had her for a year.  That's how we got Wally.  Wally's another beagle mix and he really is a fantastic dog.  Having him come to the door to greet me whenever I come home from work really is special.  Seems corny, but it is.


Two weeks before Christmas, Wally got real sick all of a sudden.  He couldn't hold any food down and finally stopped eating.  By Saturday morning, he was pretty lethargic and we took him to the vet.  They ran a bunch of tests and found his protein levels were dangerously low.  But, we took him home.  By 10PM that evening, he was unable to walk, crying in pain, and on his way to the emergency vet.  For the next 10 days, he was in and out of the hospital, without a true diagnosis.  I think he had just about every test and procedure imaginable, including an infusion of plasma.  The vets thought he might have kidney failure, toxic poisoning, Addison's disease, you name it.  At one point, we were told we were going to have to put him to sleep the next day.  But, in our own little Christmas miracle, he refused to quit and we finally got a diagnosis that seems accurate.  He's got irritable bowel disease.  Kind of ironic, given that Kim and Nick both have Crohn's disease.


So now we have a diagnosis and a treatment plan.  And, after a couple of days of trying to get his meds right, we think we've finally got it figured out.  In fact, Kim just brought him in from outside and announced "He pooped and it was good."  That's progress.