Sunday, July 29, 2012

I’ve got Erythromelalgia. Help!

I’ve got Erythromelalgia. And I’ve learned to live with it.

Erythromelalgia, also known as Mitchell's disease is a rare neurovascular peripheral pain disorder in which blood vessels, usually in the lower extremities (feet in my case), are blocked (frequently - on and off daily), then become inflamed and very uncomfortable. It’s a horrible condition which unfortunately is getting worse. There is also no cure for this condition.

I’ve had this condition since I was a kid – my earliest recollection being me wanting to wrench my shoes off my swollen and boiling feet after even a ten-minute walk. Not a good situation. I’m the guy that only ever wears closed shoes when I work out or play tennis. Every other time, I’m in my crocs or sandals. And I mean every other time. I meet clients in my crocs. I go to weddings in my crocs. I go to work in my crocs. I wear a suit and tie with my crocs -- and even in 2 feet of snow, I wear my crocs. When other Torontonians trudge in the snow in boots and galoshes, you’ll see me in my crocs.

I promise I’m not looking for attention, nor am I looking to stand out, as I do like a sore thumb (pardon the pun), but my condition is awful – my feet are perpetually hot. There’s no foul foot odor and nor is there profuse sweating or swelling. It’s just searing heat, all the time coming from my poor feet.

Yeah – it’s uncomfortable – but I’m not going to die from it. I soak my feet in a pail of ice water to relieve the heat. I can’t remember if I’ve ever been able to put my feet under the comforter when I sleep – they’re always above the comforter. Sometimes, it looks like my feet have little bubbles on them --- perhaps the heat is trying to escape.

I’ve also seen doctors and specialists – there’s nothing that can be done – my condition is rare and incurable.

But hey – I’m healthy. Low cholestrol. Height and weight proportionate. Average blood pressure. No addictions. Work out regularly. Great kids. Great wife. Emotionally stable. And I don’t smoke. What more could I want?

Most of all, I’m grateful that I only have Erythromelagia.

Now, I’m going to get back to the telly to watch the Olympics.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

There's a Brouhaha Brewing in PR - And I Don't Like It.

There’s a brouhaha brewing in the PR world and I don’t like it. Now, I’m not going to take the side of either party, but as a PR practitioner of almost 22 years, I’m commenting. Like it or not.

One the one side is Peter Shankman, founder of HARO and a vice president of Vocus. Never met the man. Dialoged with him often. We follow one another on Twitter. Peter’s an entrepreneur’s entrepreneur. We’ve exchanged many emails and tweets over the years. Good guy. Lots of Twitter followers (for what that’s worth). He’s got a great rep. Adds value to the PR eco-system. Seems to have his sh*t together and has a stellar roster of clients.

On the other side is Ryan Holiday. Calls himself a media strategist. Seems to have his act together too and I’m sure he knows his stuff. Like Shankman, never met Ryan either. But I don’t like him. Not one little bit.

I’m not here to take side or judge right from wrong and I don’t give a rat’s ass what either thinks of me, but I’m compelled to correct some glaring inaccuracies.

Shankman and Holiday are fighting – see http://huff.to/Ocnn3C and http://bit.ly/Ovwede

Both postings are pretty vicious. Clearly Holiday’s got the hate on for Shankman. And I’m not sure why.

Hey Holiday --- you may want to take note of the following:

1. You say, “HARO is a cesspool of media manipulation and enabler of bad journalism”. I say “Bullsh*t” --- HARO is a legitimate service that matches reporters looking for sources with sources. What’s the matter with that? Why’s it a cesspool? How’s it enabling bad journalism?

2. You say, “Help A Reporter Out embodies everything that is wrong with much of modern online journalism. HARO is a social network that connects reporters with "expert sources" (publicists) so that the experts can shill their products, and thus the reporters don't have to bother doing any reporting. “ --- CRAPOLA dude. Yeah, HARO does connect reporters with sources … and so? There’s no experts shilling their products there – and it does not encourage lazy reporting at all. Sure there are lazy reporters – no question. But they will continue to be lazy with or without HARO .

OK Holiday – now you’re making a fool of yourself --- and then you continue

3. “Putting journalists and sources in the same secret room together does not serve a greater good, it merely services both parties self-interest to the detriment of the readers and their news.” --- Huh --- are you nuts? This has been happening in PR since PR began --- long before you and I were even conceived (For the record, I am 46). There’s nothing secret about this room to which you refer – and putting sources and reporters together is the only way stories get written. Duh!

4. Then you go on to say that Shankman had to attack you to protect himself. Fact 1: Shankman has been successful long before you attacked him 2. Fact 2: Just because he has a VP title, how do you know his job is cushy. Yeah, he logs 300k miles a year --- I did that for a year or two. If you think cushy is waking up in another city 150 days a year, think again. I did that for two years during which I aged 10 – and that was before 9/11. Trust me. It ain’t fun!

5. You conclude with --- “He doesn't want you, the reading public, to know how the sausage is made. Because he owns a sausage factory.” Wrong again – HARO is a transparent service for reporters to find sources. That’s all it is. There’s no secret sauce here --- HARO does what it does well. There’s nothing profound!

Again, gents – I am not going to get in the way between you guys, but Ryan --- stop grinding your axe buddy. It’s getting very blunt now. Rather grab something long, cold and refreshing. It has 4 letters. Starts with a B. Ends with an R. Has two vowels in the middle. Kick back. It’s the summer time after all. Start thinking and stop hating. You’ll be better for it. And so will the world.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Visitors Day At My Son's Camp - What I Learned

This past weekend was one of the highlights of the summer for me – Visitors Day at my son’s camp. It was to have been the first time in 4 weeks we’ve seen each other –to say that I missed him would be a gross understatement. Now, I state for the record, that Jason is your average “garden-variety teenager” meaning that he’s a great kid who thinks he knows everything and that his parents are uncool – you get the picture. Little does the kid know how cool we really are!

Let’s go back in time - July 22, 2011, a fateful and horrific day. Anders Behring Breivik, 32 – a Norwegian lunatic entered a camp for teenagers in Norway and in cold-blood, opened fire with a semi-automatic rifle – exacting a swath of death on 77 innocent teenagers, each one mercilessly cut down in the prime of life. That’s beyond tragic.

I’ve also written this posting in the aftermath of the Colorado massacre in which another twelve lives were senselessly lost. It’s becoming too easy for lunatics to run rampant.

No punishment or sentence could be too severe for these sickos. I hope each dies a miserable death and rots in hell. Ironic that exactly one year to the day later, we were visiting our son - at summer camp. I paused for a few minutes appreciating our good furtune.

I don’t want to be macabre – it could have been my son, or any of our kids for that matter.

Sudbury's not close to Toronto – it’s a good four hours in the car – without traffic. (I would have said on Highways 400 and 69 – but since more than half my blog’s readers are outside of Canada – they’d likely not know what or even where these highways are – anyway, I said it). Factor in traffic. It could be six hours –no question. Karen and I swallowed hard (took one for the team), and made the trek. We’re very glad we did!

Please note that Jason’s camp (Camp Solelim) has not contributed to this posting and I am in no way affiliated with it, other than Jason being a fully-paid up camper.

The day was awesome. Here’s what I learned –

1. Enjoy what’s free. It’s been said that there’s no such a thing as a free breakfast – and that there’s nothing for nothing. I agree. But there’s pretty much only one thing that’s free – and that’s loving nature’s beauty. When we got to Jason’s camp, it was breath-takingly beautiful. Situated on a vista, all Jason needs to do is walk 100 feet to see the lake below. There’s lots of other panoramic sites too. Wow! And it’s free. There’s no question that being surrounded by nature and appreciating it for what it is – can only be good for the soul. I just hope he knows that.

2. Keep it simple. I cannot stress enough the benefits of keeping it simple. I would hardly say I am an experienced camper. In fact, I’ve never been camping. Not even once. But looking around Jason’s camp, it was abundantly clear that simple is the order of the day. Simple, rustic accommodations. Simple activities. Simple meals. Simple rules. So good. No doubt many businesses out there would be able to benefit from a day at Jason’s camp where they’d see (in a heartbeat), the benefits of keeping things simple.

3. Know what your biggest asset it and treasure it. Clearly, the 130 campers at Jason’s camp are the camp’s biggest asset. I know it. My wife knows it – and wow – for sure the camp knows it. It’s clear in the way the camp’s counselors look after the kids. Seems to me that each counselor enjoys a personal relationship with the kids in their cabin. I like that. Now, let’s just face reality for a sec. Jason’s a teenager. His friends are teenagers. And we know that teenagers will push the envelope, challenge authority whenever they can and be --- well --- teenagers. My son’s no different. But I was very comforted to see the excellent care and love they show for each and every kid – given personalities and teenagers --- not an easy feat.

As Visitors Day drew to a close, I looked around at all the smiling face. Parents were happy. Children were happy. Counselors were happy. I was again reminded of the horrific events of Norway exactly to the day of Solelim’s visitors day. It made me pause. It made me stop and think. I felt a tear run down my cheek. Stopping to think is something that we should all do much more often.

And if all I can do, is to make my blog’s thousands of readers world-wide stop and think for a minute, then I would have accomplished what I had set out to do.

As my friend Pat Condell says "Peace – if that’s not too much to ask for."

Friday, July 13, 2012

Sheesh - I am missing my kids

There’s a strange phenomenon that has invaded my wife (Karen) and I’s life for the past few summers. It starts the first week of July and ends towards the end of August. You guessed it right if you guessed summer camp. The phenomenon leaves as fast as it comes. It’s almost like Quidam. Anonymous. Fast. And fleeting. But even so, it’s not a pleasurable Quidam. (Karen would say otherwise – she quite likes the peace and quiet). I don’t like it. Not even a bit.

We have two kids. Jason is 14 and Amanda is 11. They’re just your average kids --- no better and no worse. Jason’s sometimes moody and belligerent, not unlike most other teenagers I know. We think he watches too much TV, plays on his PS3 too much and does too little work (homework and household chores). In other words, he’s your average teenager. Amanda is at that I’m-not-at-that-very-obnoxious-age yet. Give her a year or two, and she’ll be there for sure. We love them though and we're a happy little family.

Right now Karen and I can choose what to do in the evenings. We can eat at 6, 7, or 8 pm. We can go to the gym at anytime – and we can go to bed at anytime. There’s no nagging the kids either. You get the picture. It is a house of peace and quiet. There’s no revolving door of my kids’ friends coming in and out – and of course there’s no bickering and yammering to be heard (something my wife thinks they do too much of, even on a good day). And as peaceful as things are, I still find myself missing the kids – very badly.





How do I know that? It’s very simple!

1. I look several times a day at their camps’ websites where staffers post pictures of the campers. Some days I’ll see a couple of each, while other days, nothing. The instant I see a picture of my kid’s smiling faces is when I feel that warm and gushy feeling. Ohhhh – it feels sooo good. On the other hand, me seeing nothing can go on for a couple days until the pictures are updated. This is like torture for me. I find myself getting cranky.

2. First thing I do when I get home is to go to the mailbox. Is there a letter from Jason and/ or Amanda? Smile if there is and grimace if there isn’t. For the record, Jason’s been gone 13 days – have not heard from him once. Amanda’s been gone 10 – she’s written once. Clearly I’ve been grimacing more than smiling.

3. If you know me well, you’ll know that I have a presence. I make noise. I laugh. I see. And I’m seen. While I’m hardly the life and soul of the party – people know when I come and when I leave. I like that. And I like it when I can feel the presence of others. I’ve been feeling Jason’s presence for fourteen years now and Amanda’s for eleven. Suddenly to not feel their presence’s is just plain weird – I don’t like it.

4. Next weekend is Visitor’s Day at Jason’s camp. I can’t wait. It will be awesome to see him and hang. Let’s hope we will/ can hang together. Unfortunately, most 14 year old boys don’t want to hang with Mom and Dad, thinking they’re “un-cool”. Truth is that Karen and I are among the coolest, hippest parents that there are. Jason’s very lucky – doesn’t know it. Hope he realizes it one day!

5. I never noticed , but Karen mentioned it a day or so ago. She often hears me saying, “I’m missing you Jason and Amanda” --- it’s like I say it sub-consciously – without even realizing it. Seriously though, I miss my kids in the hugest way. I miss their presences. I miss the (sometimes inane)questions they ask. I even miss their bickering. I promise.

You know, four years ago, a close friend of mine and his then-wife suddenly and tragically lost their 5-year old little boy. It was devastating. It’s a horrific story of epic proportion. The very thought of it is bringing tears to my eyes right now for the ump-teenth time. And I am so grateful that I’ll soon see my kids again. It’s something that I so wish my friend, and their community at-large could say too.

As Peter Shankman would say – “Blue Skies”.