Sorry to channel my inner Greta Garbo, but it’s true. At least it’s true for the office, most of the time.
I work in one of those “open office” environments that companies love to tout these days… even though they don’t work for things like, oh, doing actual work! They’re supposed to promote collaboration but really they just promote confabulation. They’re supposed to foster innovation but are better at creating interruption.
Last year, a survey by enterprise software strategist William Belk found that 58 percent of high-performance employees say they need more private spaces for problem solving, and 54 percent of HPEs say their office environment is “too distracting.” The survey netted 700 respondents from a broad swath of industries.
In 2013, researchers from the University of Sydney examined the “privacy-communication trade-off in open-plan offices” and found that the benefits of easy communication that are intended to go along with open-plan offices don’t outweigh the drawbacks, such as a huge lack of privacy.
And, psychologist Nick Perham found that office noise impairs workers’ ability to recall information and even do basic arithmetic.
I’m a music lover, so my headphones save the day nearly every day. But my company also has not one, but two forms of instant messaging apps active right now. And I despise them… they are the biggest interruptors of “flow” ever created, and I’m a flow guy to my core. (Learn more about flow, also known as being “in the zone” in the TED talk below.)
The book It Doesn’t Have to Be Crazy at Work by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson (co-founders of Basecamp) , is my new bible. I love what they have to say about chat apps.
“Yet another thing that asks for your continuous partial attention all day on the premise that you can’t miss out.”
While they admit that there are times when chat is handy, overall it typically makes it way too easy for someone to interrupt a colleague:
“But it’s terrrible when that one expert is fielding their fifth random question of the day and suddenly the day is done.
The person with the question needed something and got it. The person with the answer was doing something else and had to stop. That’s rarely a fair trade.”
Amen, Brother Jason and Brother David! Finally someone who understands where I’m coming from on this topic, and doesn’t think that I’m just being a stubborn old man in the face of change. (I’m still a stubborn old man, but we all need alone time to do our best work.)
The entire book is great for:
A. pointing out the many reasons why the current norms for the “crazy” corporate world need a major overhaul AND
B. offering much calmer alternatives.
It’s highly recommended.
And since we started with a Greta Garbo reference, we should end with one… from The Kinks!
Here’s a photo of two blues legends… and two future legends.
L to R: Bob Margolin, Phil Wiggins, Joe Tellmann and Ben Levin
The dude at far left is “Steady Rollin'” Bob Margolin, who played with Muddy Waters from 1973 to 1980, and has been performing under his own name since, garnering Blues Music Awards along the way. The gentleman on harmonica is Phil Wiggins, a master of the”Piedmont Blues” style, most notably in the duo Cephas & Wiggins, which performed for 32 years until guitarist John Cephas passed away in 2009. Phil is still actively performing, and was awarded an NEA National Heritage Fellowship in 2017.
The kid on guitar is Joe Tellmann. I worked with his dad Dave in the early 90s, at a tiny indie rock station called 97X. (Shameless plug: Dave & I do a podcast about our days at the station.) Dave and I have been friends ever since. The kid on piano is Ben Levin, a neighbor of ours. He and our oldest son Gabriel went to school together in junior high. Now Joe, Ben and Gabriel are all freshmen at the University of Cincinnati.
Joe and Ben are blues wunderkinds – musical prodigies with more chops than a Bruce Lee movie. The photo above is from a Pinetop Perkins Foundation MasterClass performance last summer in Clarksdale, Mississippi (“crossroads of the blues”). The Pinetop Perkins Foundation supports young artists who are interested in the blues, and provides opportunities for them to learn from seasoned pros.
But let’s set aside the musical talent for a moment. Both Joe and Ben are great kids. Even if they couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, their parents would have ample right to be proud of the young men they’ve become. Their musical talents are just icing on the cake… or maybe the discipline required to learn and master an instrument also comes in handy off stage. When schools face budget cuts, the music program is one of the first ones to walk the plank. That’s a shame, because music has myriad benefits.
Some folks claim the blues are a dying art form, but I disagree. Check out this clip and you’ll agree that with Joe and Ben involved, the blues are in extremely capable hands.
Tanya Donelly rocks. Period. End of discussion. You’d be hard pressed to find someone with more indie music cred. She was a founding member of not one, not two, but three seminal bands: Throwing Muses (with her stepsister Kristin Hersh), The Breeders (with Kim Deal from The Pixies) and Belly. Quick, name another artist who can claim that feat…
All those bands had their heyday back in the 80s or early 90s. It would be easy to traffic in nostalgia. But Tanya is looking forward instead of backward, and encouraging all of us to do the same. In 2018, her band Belly released Dove, their first album in 23 years. They haven’t missed a beat – it’s fantastic.
The song “Human Child” is on the new release, and it’s all about looking forward:
We let ourselves be owned by things long gone Old photographs, old songs Wrap us in ghosts
Oh human child Your face to the wind, your back to the sun Oh human child You’re digging up bones and miss all the fun
I’m not here to save you I’m just trying to get you outside Get yourself out of your way and pull your head out of the shade
Belly’s bassist Gail Greenwood created a video for the song, using mostly footage from a 1993 tour.
And here’s their live performance from KEXP, with a career-spanning set list.
I had lunch with a world-famous artist yesterday. OK, he’s not world-famous yet, but he’s certainly nationally-famous. More importantly, he’s one of the nicest folks you’ll ever meet.
photo credit: Corrie Schaffeld, Cincinnati Business Courier
Keith Neltner and I worked together at a Cincinnati ad agency (ahem, “design studio”) for about five years, more than a decade ago. He was a brilliant graphic designer and I was a hack copywriter… your classic Odd Couple storyline. Keith’s skill level, his talent, his “eye”… is off the charts. Yet it’s matched by his work ethic, which came from spending his entire childhood (and beyond) working on his family’s small farm in Northern Kentucky.
Keith hung his own shingle several years ago – Neltner Small Batch is the name of his company. He’s still working his magic, but instead of doing it for the P&Gs of the world, he’s doing it for smaller, more craft-oriented companies like LIC.
Keith also does artwork for musicians, including the album layout for Shooter Jennings’ most recent release.
Which is great, but I still think his art is underappreciated because it’s typically intertwined with commerce. However, a recent project that Keith and his Neltner Small Batch collective worked on is pure heart and pure art. They (Keith, Tom Post, Chris Dye, Andi Bussard and Andy Sohoza) created a 63-foot wall mural in graphic novel style to share stories from holocaust survivors at Cincinnati’s Holocaust & Humanity Center.
On Monday evening, Erika Wennerstrom, leader of the band Heartless Bastards, played an intimate set at a bar in the hipster part of town. Actually, she played two sets – the original gig at 6 p.m. sold out quickly (not surprising – the room capacity was well under 100) so they added a second set at 9 p.m.
I’m a bit slow on the uptake (if you read this regularly, that shouldn’t come as a shock), so I missed out on getting tickets to the 6 p.m. show, whose starting time was much more conducive to my Middle-Aged-Man-On-A-School-Night schedule.
I know the feeling, Liz Lemon.
However, I’m a live music super trooper, so I sucked it up and hit the late show with my friends David and Sandy. (“David & Sandy” could also be the name of a ’60s duo…)
Erika was the star of the show – a pint-sized dynamo with a majestic voice. But she shared the stage with two other women: Beth Harris (from the Cincinnati band The Hiders) provided angelic harmony vocals and Lauren Gurgiolo (formerly of Okkervil River) played lead guitar in an understated-yet-amazing way.
L to R: Beth Harris, Erika Wennerstrom, Lauren Gurgiolo
Erika’s used to playing large clubs and festivals with her band… and I’m used to seeing them in that setting. This was a wonderful opportunity to see her at a more casual, more personal gig. (She’s from Dayton, Ohio and formed her band in Cincinnati.) It didn’t disappoint. The set list consisted mostly of songs off her new solo album, and they sounded great live. And it’s always a treat to be so close to the stage.
Actually, I have no regrets about the late evening. It was totally worth it because it was so extraordinary.
… you head to the basement to feed the cats and notice that the sanitary sinks near the washer are filled to the brim with swampy water.
This photo isn’t from my house… but close enough for blogging.
It happens at least once a year. It’s not the washer drain that’s clogging (I have lint screen and a drain cover there), it’s just backup from the kitchen sink, and the basins near the washer are the path of least resistance.
This too is not from my house… mine is a lot grungier from years of use.
My trusty drain auger, which I got eons ago for less than $20, saved the day once again. I was able to snake the drain to clear the clog.
Thank goodness… after all, I wouldn’t want to spend any dead presidents for an emergency plumbing visit on President’s Day.
I spent some time crate-digging over the weekend, looking through the albums at the thrift shops near my house. (Yes, thrift shops – plural – we live in a classy neighborhood!) Two albums from 70s pop idols caught my eye.
Donny Osmond and David Cassidy… it doesn’t get any more 70s than that. No, I did NOT purchase them! Mainly because I don’t care for bubblegum pop… and also because the Donny album cover seems a bit too, shall we say, pedophile?
But those album covers gave me a chance to contemplate a few things:
Why am I spending weekends in thrift shops?
Why is Donny’s album twice the price of David’s?
What’s the price of fame?
Donny and David had a lot in common. Hit songs, hit TV shows, multiple TigerBeat covers, huge fan clubs… and amazing hairstyles. But they wound up on different paths. Donny fell off the pop culture radar for most of the 80s, but has had top 10 songs since then, done musical theater, hosted TV game shows and syndicated radio shows, won a season of Dancing with the Stars, and has been appearing in Vegas (where else?) with his sister Marie since 2008.
https://twitter.com/i/status/1088191265148006400
David Cassidy‘s post-teen-idol path was a bit rockier. He had modest Top 40 success after the Partridge Family, dabbled in musical theater and acting… and had the requisite reality TV appearance (Celebrity Apprentice, 2011). He also had multiple drunk driving charges from 2010 on, filed for bankruptcy in 2015, and died of liver failure (due to alcoholism) in 2017.
F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote “there are no second acts in American lives.” In Donny’s case, he was wrong. In David’s, he was correct. Fame is fleeting, and it can extract a heavy toll from your life. Gaining fame is great fun… but losing it isn’t.
Some are born to move the world To live their fantasies But most of us just dream about The things we’d like to be
Sadder still to watch it die Than never to have known it For you, the blind who once could see The bell tolls for thee….
Many moons ago, we fostered a puppy named Bibo for 4 Paws for Ability, local non-profit that provides service dogs for children and disabled veterans.
My wife: “Such a pwetty widdle pupper-dupper…”
Our job was to cover the basics with bouncing baby Bibo: the usual sit/stay/come commands, potty training, and “socializing” him to get him used to public spaces. Meaning my wife took him everywhere – stores, schools, sporting events, restaurants, parades… any place where he’d be exposed to new sights, sounds and smells.
At age one, Bibo needed to go back to the non-profit (much to my wife’s dismay) for hardcore “boot camp.” The training runs the gamut, as the dogs could be put into service in a variety of roles: mobility assistance, Alzheimer’s, diabetes, epilepsy, etc. It’s like Navy Seal training for dogs, and only the very best make it through to graduation.
Bibo was a dropout. There’s no shame in that. But he needed a forever home. I’ll give you three guesses as to where he wound up (and your first two guesses don’t count).
Now that those silly “obedience” lessons are over, can I sleep on your bed?
Bibo is back (we should change his name to “Boomerang”). He joins Hope, our seven-year-old mutt (adopted from a local shelter)…
So good at hogging the couch.
…and Coco and Lily, our two cats (also adopted) in our house turned menagerie.
I should buy stock in pet companies… and lint roller manufacturers.
When I saw this truck, I immediately thought of Cool Hand Luke.
Has anyone under the age of 70 ever purchased this type of candy?
Candystore.com referred to ribbon candy as “the candy equivalent of, ‘he has a great personality.’ “ Customer comments: “Whatever that ribbon stuff is, it isn’t candy. There should be a sign that says NOT FOOD.” “My sister loves the ribbon candy, but she never eats it. Because, duh it’s nasty and awkward.” “It should be a crime to call this stuff candy.” “The worst Christmas non-candy candy.”
Saw this shirt at the local thrift store. I should’ve immediately purchased it because: A. I’m beat AND B. I’m a male.
The one on the left provides quicker relief. (Just for the record, this was not on the desk of my work manager.)
Our youngest child is 13 and a half… and his voice is starting to crack. Of course, the first thought that springs to mind for someone my age is the Brady Bunch episode where Peter’s voice was changing.
But then when I clear the TV Land cobwebs from my puny brain (it takes roughly three hours to lose that stupid little Sha-na-na-n-na-na-n-na-na… sha-na-na-na-na! riff), I realize that our youngest child… our baby boy!… is leaving childhood behind.
That makes me sad, because if he’s moving to another phase, that means I am too. The phase where parents aren’t needed as much. We’re becoming accessories rather than necessities. Heck, we already have a kid in college (and another who will be there by August), two teenage drivers and another with her temps… They can fend for themselves. They’ve been off school for the past three days thanks to frigid temperatures and snow — and they probably didn’t even notice their old man was gone.
I’m not ready to be an empty nester just yet. In fact, the “failure to launch” concept is starting to sound appealing.
I know change is inevitable.
But that doesn’t make it enjoyable. At least not for parents.
impossibly4332b32374 on Light. Laughter. Grace.: “That’s the reply you were talking about! And a reminder to get that book out. I do almost all of…” Apr 27, 15:36
impossibly4332b32374 on Light. Laughter. Grace.: “I’ve got The Wet Engine on my shelf, and think I read about half of it. Time for another look.” Apr 21, 09:15
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