Finally...common ground for the Olympics

The build up to the Sochi Olympics has been a roller coaster ride. Last week, world leaders were still condemning Russia’s anti-gay laws that seem made to be broken. With the Sochi games approaching the final stretch, I have again been asked to provide advice to the local organizers, as I have for the Beijing, Vancouver and London Games among others.  The conference calls I have been on since last summer have had a very strong ideological bent. The anti-gay issue has been vilified universally by most of the free world and the preparations for demonstrations, boycotts and law enforcement responses have been the focus.

These games have President Putin’s name stamped all over them and it’s easy to see how his ego is speeding down the slopes.  He wants to make Sochi a welcoming city for travelers, easily reached from Turkey across the Black Sea.  It’s a picturesque town like many of the Winter Olympic venues have been. The skiing and snowboarding events will take place on a mountain that is about 50 miles from the city and a high-speed train track is being built at a speed that would make the transcontinental race across our country over a century ago feel like a tortoise derby. Mr. Putin wants to be the winner here. In Beijing, it was the country that had something to prove. Here it’s the leader’s show.

But over the weekend the effort has taken an important turn. At the cost of at least 30 deaths and countless others injured, two suicide bombers have narrowed the focus dramatically 400 miles from Sochi in the city formerly known as Stalingrad.  No group has stepped up to take responsibility.  There is no obvious reason that these two incidents have anything to do with Sochi. But there is definitely common ground between the western world and Russia when it comes to fighting Islamic terrorists. It’s going to be hard now to be welcoming to the world but, like London, law enforcement will be the key to the effort. It already requires a special pass to even enter the city and the venues are being tightly restricted at every level.

Mr. Putin has already spent a reported $48 billion on these games and, now, money will be no object to make every aspect of this event safe and sound.  Unless the objections come from outside agitators, I doubt the issue of sexual preference will be a stumbling block to make these games successful. As I have in past situations, I will counsel swift and thorough efforts to deal with problems. And just as importantly, transparency of all actions taken is essential to gain the confidence and respect of all those watching.

Each time these world games are held, my heart is with the athletes.  If only they could compete without the stress of politics, corporate maneuvering and the threat of terrorism.  These are games not wars. Here’s a wish for a safe, exciting and rewarding competition between the world’s best athletes.  They deserve it.

A true friend of man

South Africa has made an indelible impression on my life over the past 25 years.  I've written about it several times in this blog and given my reaction to the ground-breaking World Cup event that was held there in 2010.  Several times, Jane and I have been able to "live" there for extended periods of time since 1990. And I was working there when Nelson Mandela was elected president in 1994.

South Africans seem to view life from a high plateau.  They have a different set of values than most of us and their world revolves on a slightly slower axis.  Nelson Mandela was South African through and through.

I was fortunate to encounter the great man on a number of occasions. The first time is as clear to me today as when it happened.  In the movie “Invictus”, Matt Damon’s character is summoned to the Capital in Pretoria to meet the new president.  He pulls up in a dated automobile and enters through a grand set of doors.  When I was producing and promoting a solo yacht race around the world, we were the first international event to come to South Africa after Mandela’s election. Through our major sponsor, I received a similar invitation to come to the Capital and we drove in a slightly more upscale car to the very spot where Matt arrived in the movie.

The Jacaranda that Pretoria is known for were in full bloom.  The air was sweet with their aroma. When we entered the building, there was a definitive lack of hustle and bustle. We walked down a long hallway to the office of the minister of sport and talked for a while about the impact and global attention that our event would bring to Cape Town and the country. Midway in our meeting, the door opened and, without ceremony, Nelson Mandela entered the room.  He was dressed casually, wearing loafer-style shoes that looked like slippers.  We were introduced and he was told why we were there.

When I had the opportunity, I told him I was from Seattle and that I was president of the board of the Seattle Central Community College Foundation, because I knew he was acquainted with my good friend Charles Mitchell.  He said had been there to see Charles, who was president of the college at that time.

Our yacht race was a bit controversial down there because of the elitist reputation of big events like the America’s Cup.  I spent some time explaining  that our race was a “Corinthian” endeavor which anyone with the right skills could enter.  Some of our entrants sold their houses and cars to become a part of it and others saved their money for years just to compete.  He smiled and said “That is good.”

His presence was powerful and calming.  He spoke quietly and succinctly. When it was clear he was leaving, I realized that without my camera, I had no way of commemorating this extraordinary connection.  The entire meeting was very unceremonious.  But I couldn't resist so I opened my reporter’s notebook that I used to chronicle the meeting and asked him if he would autograph one of the pages for me.  His face lit up with that familiar big grin and he said, “You don’t want my signature.  I’m not special.  Ask the next person you see on the street to sign. It is those people who are important to this country.”  Wow! What else can I say.

He said he hoped to see me again and that someday we might meet in Seattle. We did have that meeting years later at Seattle Central Community College on a very heartwarming occasion that was all about children and education...two of his and my favorite subjects. And he convincingly said he remembered me.

Cape Town is such a beautiful and magical city. After the meeting, he cleared the way to make our event there successful, thanks primarily to the wonderful group of South Africans who made up our local committee.  They are great friends to this day and have taught me so much about their country that it feels like home.

Nelson Mandela is gone now.  We have lost a great leader.  I have lost a hero who gave me a new vision of what our world could be. His aura has influenced my approach to the problems faced by our society on so many occasions.  We have all changed a great deal since he was released from prison.  We’ll never be the same.  I just hope we can be better.  He wanted that desperately. I am so fortunate to have met him along the way.  I will never forget "Madiba".

Just what do you mean by that?

Misleading, misconstrued, untruthful. No matter what you call it, it wasn’t right. Former University of Washington head football coach Steve Sarkisian said, in his attempt to apologize for misleading comments about being interviewed for the head coaching position at USC, “Hindsight’s 20-20. I probably should have said it was an interview. Semantics are semantics. If I could do it all over again, I probably would have just said exactly what the conversation was that Pat (USC Athletic Director Hadon) and I had.”

First of all, if we’re being picky…and he was…it’s not “Semantics are semantics”. It’s “Semantics is semantics”. Semantics is about the meaning of words and, frankly it’s a dangerous business.  Ask Bill Clinton, OJ Simpson’s lawyer, Lance Armstrong, Britney Spears, Seattle's last mayor and any of a myriad other high profile individuals who have tried to worm their way out of misstatements or what some of us call lies.

I’ve spent my professional life in a world overrun with semantics. Saying what you mean seems sometimes to be very difficult for people. I tell my students that their communications should be simple, truthful, matter-of-fact and direct.  Daily communications are not creative exercises.  You want other people to understand very clearly what you’re saying. If you have to ask what someone means then they’re not telling you the whole story.

Sarkisian had an interview and told his players and others that he didn’t.  That’s not semantics.  It’s a lie. And “white” so he wouldn’t upset people or not, his hindsight was indeed 20-20.  He should have said that it was an interview for a new job. I think most adults could deal with that.

Many people have been credited with saying “The truth is overrated.” However, I believe it’s much easier to keep track of the truth than it is to remember what you said instead. I guess that’s enough of this short rant. Now I’ll go back to trying to say what my client doesn’t want to say without saying it.  My head hurts.

The Doodler

President Kennedy was a prolific doodler. His secretary, Evelyn Lincoln, kept many of his doodles on notepads, letters and other documents when they ended up on her desk. A few of them were selectively copied, printed in very limited quantities and used as “Thank You” gifts for staff. During my tenure as a White House intern, I was given these two framed doodles at different times when we had completed special projects. I saw the president many times and spoke to him on rare occasions. He liked the sailboat doodle and said that he seemed to make that mark when he wished he was on the ocean and away from all the drama of his work.

I treasure these doodles. I can get lost in them, as I know he did. On this anniversary of his untimely death, it would be good if we boomers, who were in school when he died, could move on. But I can’t and neither can most of my peers. Our world is so different now. When I snapped the polaroid photo of his grave not long after the funeral, I was still sorting out my thoughts. I continued to go back to that site as it changed. I don’t now return to DC without going to the grave. It’s not about what might have been. It’s about what he made us feel we could be.  There’s a standard that was set back then that we’re still working toward. I hope we can achieve it…for him and for us. RIP, JFK.

Do you want to know a secret?

The hardest part of getting a top secret clearance from the government is when you don’t know they’re investigating and they’re talking to all your high school and college friends about what you drank and smoked and joined.  When I started getting calls from people I hadn’t heard from for years, it was a little disconcerting.

Soon, I found out it was about all my first assignment in the army.  I was going to be working on a top secret project called Potlid, that would lead me deep into Agent Orange in the course of my service. It took me to all kinds of strange places in Central America and Southeast Asia.  I was on a team that included at least two operatives for the CIA. One of them went out one day for a ride in the jungle and never came back. If that doesn’t creep you out, I don’t know what does.

What I do know is th
at serving my country was never a question in my mind. We dealt with wind changes that blew nerve gas in the wrong direction, political changes that placed us in the wrong place at a bad time and social changes that affected our views of the mission we were presented with. Being a soldier is not an easy job. And the difference between the jungles of Vietnam and deserts of the Middle East are much more than topographical.

We’ve been at war over there now for more than 10 years. Since the US went to war in Afghanistan in 2001 and Iraq in 2003, about 2.5 million members of the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, Coast Guard and related Reserve and National Guard units have been deployed in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars, according to Department of Defense data. Of those, more than a third were deployed more than once. In fact, as of last year nearly 37,000 Americans had been deployed more than five times, among them 10,000 members of guard and Reserve units. Records also show that 400,000 service members have done three or more deployments.

We have never fought a war like this in the history of our country. It’s about ideology and diplomacy doesn’t seem to get us closer to resolution. There is no doubt, however, that those who are serving now are holding our country’s flag high in a world that is increasingly looking at us with a jaundiced eye.  I feel a small sigh of relief each time a unit returns. We can agree that we want our troops to come home but the reality is we’re in a place where getting out of this conflict is a very difficult prospect.  And who knows if anyone can “win”?

It was a long time before my father, the career Army officer, and I sat down to talk about my service. As a World War II vet, his allegiance was unquestioned and clearly accepted.  When he finally told me not long before he passed away that he was proud of the fact that I had chosen to serve in such a difficult time, it was a moment that I can carry in my heart forever.

Somehow, it’s even tougher now, though. My respect for today’s troops is unparalleled. I want them back. I want a world full of peace.  I want to break down the barriers between our ideologies. More understanding.  More compassion. None of this can happen too soon.  And the secret is finding the answer to this situation. I’m proud to be a veteran. Every one of us who has served has helped to make our world a better place.  Celebrate a veteran on Veteran’s Day. He or she deserves it.

Do you still think I'm pretty?

To borrow a line from a recent Windows ad attacking the iPad, I would have to say “yes”. The iPad and other Apple products continue to have the edge. Mostly, the reason I’m saying this is that I’ve just spent three weeks in “Computer Hell” because the new Microsoft Office 365 completely crashed my machine.

Most of us are fond of saying that our smartphones are our lives. Well, I can tell you that without my iPhone, I would literally have been unable to do business on daily basis (meetings excepted).  I opened up my computer one morning and got a window that said “Outlook cannot open.” That led me to a series of windows ending with “You have a corrupt file. Click here to try to repair the file.” Some three hours later, the message was “The broken file could not be found.” And I had to start the process all over again.

Finally, I called Microsoft.  Ruchir was a nice guy and even lived in Redmond. He

took over my computer remotely and gave me a bunch of instructions, which I did. Of course, I had the back-ups...two external hard drives for my music and photos, as well the prescribed system called Genie Timeline which just happened to be set up incorrectly and did me virtually no good. Every time I had to do a check, it took hours and since I had places to go and people to see, when I returned, Ruchir was gone for the day. He’d left me a message that he would return the next day in the afternoon.

After four days of this, we were no farther along. He had loaded a new version of Office 365 which by then was working but it had none of my basic information.  No emails. All my contacts were gone…over 2000 of them. My calendar was blank going forward and back. The “Drafts” folder was empty where I keep all the writing I do for my clients until I make a final edit.  There were 97 drafts before the crash and then none.

Believe me when I say that my iPhone has never been so tenderly cared for.  It was receiving emails and had my calendar and contacts. It was my lifeline and, boy, were my thumbs tired.

Then Ruchir decided that the problem might be Windows and so he suggested that I load a new version of Windows onto my computer.  Fine, I said, whatever it takes.  Well, it took 5 days, including the weekend, for me to receive new discs in the mail and then I had to get back on his schedule to load it and test it on my machine.

When that was done, I crossed my fingers and held my breath. He set all the right codes and prompts and pressed enter.  Nothing happened. He was afraid to try to open the folder containing all my information with the corrupted files.  So, he said that I had a version of Outlook that was working and I would just have to start over and rebuild everything I’d lost.

I felt like Dr. Frankenstein having to build a body out of used parts.  Where would I ever  find all that information? I started to fill in the blanks on the calendar and to pull the necessary names and addresses off my phone…but 2000-plus, give me a break.

This was my problem and I tried to solve it. I had one last chance . Since my days at DDB Worldwide, I’ve been a friend of our former head of IT, who now works for the University of Washington.  I decided to tell him my sad tale, for sympathy, if nothing else.

All I can say is that this guy is a Geek God. First of all, he found a program that would transfer my contacts and calendar from my iPhone to my computer. It cost $50 bucks but the deed was done in 15 minutes. After a couple of very short sessions, he said he had another program that might be the answer to the problem.  He took the folder with all my info and the corrupt files, cleaned it up and handed it right back to me. In a matter of hours, he cleared up all the difficulties that I spent weeks on, even with all that Microsoft advice and those programs. Big thanks, Mark.

There was one thing missing that, even with the fixes, I seem to have lost forever.  You can make groups out of your contacts in Outlook and one of those groups has your name in it.  It’s the group that I send this blog directly to because the members have indicated some interest in what I have to say in these missives.  My groups are gone.  They don’t transfer to the iPhone. So I have rebuilt this important one from scratch. There’s a chance I may hear from some folks that I’ve inadvertently left off but, for sure, if you were not on the list before and are surprised that you’re on there now, the “delete” key can fix that problem in an instant.

Apple’s hard goods are still pretty to me.  I hope you never have to go through what I just did with Windows.  The only other time I’ve experienced a letdown like this was when I walked in one day to see the deadly “Blue Screen” that comes after your hard drive has crashed. But, in case you do face this difficulty, take my advice and go to your Geek God first. We have certainly become dependent on this means of communication and I’m very happy to be back in business.  I’ll talk to you again soon.

Don't make that right hand turn...

Winning an Emmy Award is very special as accolades go. For American television, it’s the Oscar. I have been fortunate to be on the first team for 10 documentary programs that received Emmy consideration and actually won several times.Our friends seem to enjoy it as much as we do.

Producer/Director Laszlo Pal has been my muse in most of these ventures.  We have spent countless hours ruminating over pictures, voices and music, trying to tell the story in just the right way.  When we do it right, we make people laugh and we make them cry. (Jane is Laszlo’s ultimate test for tears and for embarrassment…a bare bum or an f-bomb will set her off in an instant.) Making people understand what happened in a particular situation and why is truly an art.  I’ve learned from the best.

Last weekend’s Emmy Awards show brought back memories of the year that Laszlo and I decided we would actually attend the ceremony in LA. One of our solo sailing stories was nominated. We were in the “Network Specials” category, along with a couple of other documentaries and the likes of the New Year’s Rose Parade and Macy’s Thanksgiving Day celebration. Could we win? Hell, we were nominated!  Let’s go.

We got to LALA in time to have a little Hollywood fun, getting our palms read on Venice Beach (nothing but good news there) and having a real Jewish deli experience at Nate and Al’s. To my back at the booth was John Lithgow, who was presenting and not nominated for anything.  He overheard us talking about our project and as he left, he stopped to say he’d use whatever influence he had to see that we would win. (That’s called “Hollywood BS” in  most circles, but it felt good at the time.)

After some primping, we tuxed up and headed for the gala.  The budget got stretched a bit to make the trip so I made sure we had an economy car for all the freeway back and forth.  A Ford Fiesta seemed a lot cooler on the autobahn in Germany but it fit the bill for getting us around. As we approached the entrance, we easily slid into the line of towne cars and limos heading toward the entrance.

It’s here that I have to confess, out of an otherwise spectacular weekend, I made a big mistake. I saw the Red Carpet coming but somewhere in the back of my mind I thought, “We can walk down the carpet later, just not after this huge land yacht in front of us empties its passengers and Joan Rivers is faced with the Fiesta.” So I made the abrupt right hand turn into “Self-Parking”.

 

The sound that came out of the mouths of Jane and my cohorts was similar to that of the crowd in Mudville when Mighty Casey struck out.  “NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Clearly, the Red Carpet was more important than the red car we were in. Now my only hope to save the evening was to win the Emmy.

Drinks around the pool and Hollywood chitchat ensued. Finally, we moved inside to our table.  Oprah was on one side of us. The Macy’s gang and Ellen flanked us at the other two adjacent tables.  There was no pressure.  We were there and deservedly so, win or lose.  They flashed the category and then the nominees on the big screen. It was Leeza Gibbons who read our name and we were awestruck. We’d won and even Oprah congratulated us. Laszlo and I high-fived all the way to the photo session.

Several more stops were made that evening and each time we placed the Emmy in the middle of the table, the drinks were free. As we drove out of the parking lot, I had a small moment of redemption when I shook the Emmy in the attendant’s face and he waved us on through with no charge. We even got free hot dogs at Pink’s.

Say what you will about awards and their true value, it still feels great to win. We celebrated on the beach near the Santa Monica Pier the next day with Class A seats for the latest Cirque du Soleil show in the Big Yellow and Blue tent. What a time.  I highly recommend it for a good solid rush. But remember one thing…just don’t make that right hand turn.