Finally. They got me. Not in the middle of the night as I often expected. But at the beach. In broad daylight. 4:06PM precisely. Guilty I am. Parking! Parking While Street Legal. It’s not a thing. I Googled it. Nevertheless, I’ve been specially selected to enjoy a $75 Penalty for Park District (of Highland Park) Parking Violation. My city sticker? Proudly displayed. Did I Park Like a Dick? Not hardly. Perfectly centered between the lines. I’ve been caught in the net of that scourge of mankind, law abiders. Singled out for my initial opposition to the Rosewood Beach improvements. Mocked for driving a 12 year old minivan. Ridiculed for daring to hit the beach on a weekday afternoon. It’s a pattern. They’re after me. I will resist. #MAGA
Category Archives: Real
Today is the 40th anniversary of the opening of my first business, VideOdyssey. I was armed for competition with no business operation experience, seed capital from my bar mitzvah and a 5 page business plan.
I turned the key on Thursday, May 5, 1977 looked out the door at the empty sidewalk and said, “Hello World.” Or something to that effect. The silence was deafening. With additional keenless insight I had opened my little storefront in a new shopping center with only 1 other store, a hairdresser.
So there I was. No money. No experience and a lousy location. Good start.
I had the temerity to think that personal computers were going to be a big thing. My only problem is that there were no computers to sell. No hardware. No software either. What there was was Pong. And Betamax.
The products were slim pickings. But to me the promise seemed great. I wrote in my plan:
“The products offered by VideOdyssey will provide consumers with an unprecedented control over what information and entertainment they receive in the home, when it is shown and its frequency.”
At this time the non-existent personal computer industry consisted of hobbyists on what used to be called the West Coast. Silicon was definitely in play for computer construction, but they hadn’t named a valley after it. Apple was in the garage.
The gateway drugs were video recorders and video games but the target was the personal computer. In the plan I wrote:
“…TV games are the tip of the proverbial iceberg….Game technology, which uses …”smart” mircoprocessor chips, is the harbinger of domestic computer systems. (note: how quaint).
My nod to the Internet was
I survived my first year holiday season with the season’s top hit, the Fairchild Video Game but still hunting for my first computer to sell. In January I went to the Consumer Electronic Show and met Steve Jobs selling his 2 kilobyte, color Apple computer with built-in keyboard. After sending him the Sony TV he bartered against my first Apple dealer purchase I remember writing the tiny firm and saying that the computer, “would make a good step up from my video games.” Guess so.
I recently read this recently published book and thought it was great. Not flawless. But insightful. You may be interested.
A powerful story at multiple levels. What begins as a humorous lark surrounding the funding shenanigans of a small tech start-up evolves into a corporate drama involving Facebook on the eve of its IPO and shortly after. Author Martinez is the epicenter of this tale, offering an unblinking 360-degree view of his work and life according to him. In fact, while some might believe there is TMI about his admittedly sordid life, more accurately it underscores the entrepreneur’s mantra that life is work and work is life.
Martinez is a funny guy, inventing some crude as well as poignant metaphors to make his points. (e.g. “A founder should prefer to be arrested for public homosexual, pedophilic bestiality than to have his or her company ignored by the media…”) And his points are many. He shares the aftermath of investment; the winners, losers, options, dilutions and taxes that follow. We witness the corporate infighting for status and recognition in the effort to advance closely held beliefs in a business that is being invented before our eyes -as well as the effort to secure a place in that business hierarchy.
For many the book will bog down in the detail of data mining, targeting and ad serving technology. See, I lost you already! For me, who has used these tools on the buying side since the earliest days, I found it both fascinating as well as vindicating. That is, I wasn’t as stupid as I thought, the tools really were that bad. And therein is a lesson that can apply more broadly than the examples in the book. A great read while the examples are fresh and the players still active. Potentially will have legs as a historical perspective and business object lesson.
Marty Cohen, 74, passed away on November 18, 2015 at Brookdale North Independent Senior Living in Boynton Beach, Florida from complications of Parkinson’s disease and dementia. He was born in the shadow of World War II on August 16, 1941, the first child of Lee Abrams Cohen and Jack Aaron Cohen in Chicago, Illinois.
Marty attended May School in Chicago, Hatch School in Oak Park and graduated from Oak Park River Forest High School in Oak Park, Illinois. He received a BA from Northwestern University and his MBA from the University of Michigan. Marty became a Certified Public Accountant working in the financial industry for public accounting firms as a partner and financial investment and trading firms. He married Linda Lee Birmingham in 1963 and had two children, Barry Philip (Karen) and Jay Elliot (Carrie) and enjoyed the company of his dogs, Max & Benny.
Marty was a collector from his earliest days focusing first on coins & stamps, graduating to American Flyer S Gauge Trains that filled the walls of his basement in his home in Northbrook, IL and eventually focusing on rare Middle Eastern stamps, passport insignia and other esoterica.
In addition to his immediate family, Marty is survived by his brother Howard M. (Jeri) Cohen, S. Sonny (Rena) Cohen and granddaughters Nicole and Jillian.
Marty was cremated and no funeral service was held. For those who wish, a suggested donation can be made to The Michael J. Fox Foundation which is is dedicated to finding a cure for Parkinson’s disease through an aggressively funded research agenda and to ensuring the development of improved therapies for those living with Parkinson’s today.
Just as the critically important holiday season kicks off, Toys R Us has released a thoughtless, boneheaded and controversial video that portrays environmental education as boring and features a child sighing with pleasure as he fingers the trigger of his plastic gun. Truth is incredibly stranger than fiction. I couldn’t make this scenario up.
Toys R Us is on the precipice of its most significant quarter. Why take the risk? I ask myself. Why would Toys R Us produce and distribute – as the introduction to their seasonal #WishinAccomplished campaign – a video that is alienating a significant portion of their market. I am seeking that answer.
Leaving no icon unscathed, Toys R Us features an unenthusiastic “Ranger Brad” – a forest ranger impersonator, ushering kids onto a “Meet the Trees Foundation” bus. Leaning laconically against a seat he sighs “I’m a big fan of trees, I don’t know if you can tell” this fraud preaches to inattentive kids about leaf identification as they, understandably, squirm and yawn in their seat. Suddenly the inauthentic Ranger sheds his garb and reveals himself as a smiling animated Toys R Us toy guy amidst wild euphoria erupting at the promise that the bus is detouring from an actual real life “in the field” field trip to the artificial turf of a Toys R Us store. Wow! “Screw that outdoor shit. I’m going to get me some toy.”
Cut to the grinning and out of control kids storming the aisles of Toys R Us where girls grab their dolls and boy’s their microscopes and, yes, their guns. Wow!
So what is Toys R Us telling us?
- Being outside in nature is a boring thing
- Forest rangers and their ilk are nerds. We don’t want to be like them
- Girls play with dolls
- Boys do stuff with telescopes
- Guns in the hands of kids are part of playtime
Wow! Stereotypes and bad will abound. Why Toys R Us? Why would you do this?
On Thursday 10/31/13. An over-generous olive branch of a sort was sent by the North American Association for Environmental Education (NAAEE) as an open letter. The letter calls out TrU and asks them to reconsider (as in not run) the video and to talk with them. On Wednesday 11/6/13, Forbes publishes “Reality Prank From Toys R Us Backfires With Women” And the Dallas Morning News published “Selling Toys at the Expense of Nature” calling it a “distressing message”. In the meantime, the Toys R Us Facebook page lights up with comments similar to “…Making a mockery of the outdoors like this is truly sad…” and “I felt sick when I saw that ad. So very sad.”
It is a sad error by Toys R Us. So incredibly avoidable in the pursuit of making their point. And all the more astonishing in their inaction and unresponsiveness to the backlash. But it can be fixed. It’s time for Toys R Us to disavow this promotion, issue an apology and, most important, “show us the money” to grow environmental education for the kids who are also their customers. There are a great number of environmental funds that could use the encouragement & support of TrU. Boys, girls come on out to the great outdoors.
Agree? Do this:
- Share this post (copy link and post on your social media)
- Contact Toys R Us: President Hank Mullany, Toys“R”Us, Inc. One Geoffrey Way Wayne, NJ 07470 and tell him what you think. Or just print this post and mail it to him.
- Support the North American Association for Environmental Education
Sitting on the dock of the bay. A great song. But Otis Redding forgot to mention the black flies.
OK, I should have been forewarned. I took a walk after dinner along the riverwalk in Manistee and plowed my way through a couple clouds of flying insects. Silly me to not think black fly. Until the next morning when I found my throat lumpy and itchy with bug bites. And itch they did just to keep me aware of the threat of these annoying bloodsuckers.
But there I was sitting on my private little dock in Paradise (Michigan) completely enthralled with Whitefish Bay. I could see the blinking lights of the wind turbines on the Canadian side of the bay. A Kingfisher buzzed by every couple minutes patrolling the calm water. The water lapped at the shore. And the sun setting behind me caused the undulating water to alter its hue and intensity of sky sea blue and sun tan yellow, ultimately losing color altogether. A star became visible. I sipped my PBR.
Again the flies appeared. If I hadn’t been hypnotized by this placid environment I might have paid attention. First there were a couple. But ultimately word got out that dinner was served and I was unwittingly it. I’d doused myself with some kind of toxic bug spray. I think it was called something like “Dinner Bell” or “Come and Get it”. I didn’t help myself at all by hauling out my computer for a few minutes, the screen light serving as landing lights at Restaurant de Sonny.
Black flies are insidious. Unlike mosquitoes, they land on you and then march off to some inconvenient location like your waist band, the collar of your shirt or behind your ears. Itching began the next morning and my first effort to quell the assault was the hydrocortisone I’d brought. Ill prepared for the prevention, but totally ready for the cure.
When that didn’t work particularly well, I acquired a bottle of calamine lotion. That wasn’t too swift either. I researched itch relief online. The remedies ran the gamut from scalding your skin with hot towels to applying onion or ammonia.
Ultimately, I found my elixir based on a couple hits I picked up online. I hit my body with ibuprofen providing me a system anti-inflammatory in combination with the hydrocordisone that soothes the inflammation topically. I thought I had it under control. I was not prepared for 2 weeks of itchy recovery. Reflecting, the itch was a bit of a downer but it was a small price to pay for that short time sitting on the dock of the bay.