So, where's your next album?

Donald Fagen, one of the nutsy geniuses from the band Steely Dan, went through a phase of prolific songwriting and album releasing for a few years.
He got so into it, he actually went into the studio one Christmas day, just to 'work on a few things' and was annoyed that he was alone.
Like I said earlier, nutsy genius.
After his first solo release- the fantastic Nightfly, there was a huge gap till the next (and increasingly genius) Kamakiriad. A surprisingly long gap.
Like 11+ years, which is kinda odd for a man who could knock out an album a year, sometimes a bit more, in his 'hayday'.
Ironically, it was 13+ years til his next album after Kamakiriad wrapped up.
Shockingly long gaps.
Such a long gap that people approached him and said, 'So, where's your next album?'
'So, where's your next album?'
Squak.
'So, where's your next album?'
Squak.
He heard it so often one day he just snapped and yelled and someone 'Where's your next album?!!!?'
A testy and nutsy genius.
I like the nutsy ones, and I often marry them and buy them a house.
I was at lunch with a spiffy girl the other day and we got to discussing blogs.
Shockingly spiffy girl.
Now, I am well over three years into blogging, so I have experienced first hand the waxing and waning of passion to write. Writing is fundamentally sharing something, and a obscure blog like this is very much more of an intimate look into one's soul, compared to a 'mass appeal' blog that is aimed at a wider release.
And writer's block, or 'Resistance' certainly exists.
But as Pressfield said, 'No one ever has writer's block when they are making their grocery list.'
She was slagging one of my mate's blog, one that I read every day.
It was a merciless slagging, especially from one with such spiffy hair. 
I read it every day because they post darn near every day, I comment rarely, quote it often, and find it a great resource of ideas for how to run my swag practice.
Authenticity is woven into their posts, and they are open with their wins and losses.
"They don't update it enough and when they do it is just drivel.' She spat, authoritatively.
Authoritatively!
As if!
She is spiffy as all get out, and I am sure she does not read this claptrap; if she doesn't like theirs, she sure wouldn't like mine.
And I wasn't sure about whether she has her own blog or not, but I kinda doubt it. I did look for one, but I have not found it yet.
But she has great hair and is unusually spiffy.
Not judging- I have lousy hair and a lousy blog, so what of that?
Everyone is a critic, but it takes a bit more effort and intentionality to actually be a 'content producer'. Not that I am, for this is really not great, or even a steady stream, of compelling content.
But to slag someone else's work, when there is no record of you own seems...indelicate.
Spiffy hair and all.
Oh, and...'So, where's your next album?'
Posted on Saturday, September 12, 2009 at 14:38 by Registered CommenterKamran Popkin in | CommentsPost a Comment

9.11.01. Again. Not what you expect. Again.

 
Was seriously planning on skipping my yearly 9.11 posting to the blog. Then I had an 'NPR driveway moment' in the Costco parking lot.
It was a discussion about 9.11.
Blew it off.
Then I saw my 9.11 widow in the Costco. 4x, as if God was just taunting me.
Seems like he is doing more of that 'God talking' stuff than I am doing the 'Popkin listening' stuff. 
Time to write, time to drink. 
Time to listen to some of that infernal 'God talking' stuff.
So.....
Years ago I had to fortune to know a wealthy doctor. Son of a wealthy doctor, he was a man of style, grace, and poise, who could run a meeting (and I assume an OR) with order and decorum.
Although we attended the same church, he was very much of an insider, and I was very much an outsider (still am, btw), but he never made me feel that way.
We were peers, or at least, he made me feel that way. We served together on a couple of committees, as Presbyterians are prone to make committees about everything.
 
Not judging, just saying.
 
We had kids roughly same age as mine, wife a bit older but similarly spiffy as mine, but we were in very much different worlds other than that.
Yet I never felt that east/west divide with him.
Or the stunning old money /new money/ no money divide.
Or the infamous 'Docitis' that so many of my friends in medicine complain about.
He was just plain folks, as far as I could tell. And if I had never seen him in a white lab coat, I would never have made him for a Doctor, other than the dead give away of a great vocabulary and military bearing.
 
He could have been a professor or a retired navy officer, if you did not know he was a Doctor. He was that darn unassuming.
 
A few days after 9.11.01 he approached me in the hall of the church, outside of my Sunday School class.
'I heard some of ya'll were headed up to NYC to see what you can do.' he said softly.
'Yep, dunno what we can do, we just feel called to go.' I whispered back.
 
No reason for the whispering, just felt like it needed gravitas or something.
 
'Take this, then. You'll need it to defray some expenses.' and slipped me a few dead presidents.
Big ones.
Several of em.
 
Enough to defray all the expenses we could come up with, including a 'speeding tax' for an alleged 88 in a 65 zone somewhere in Nowhere, West Virginia. 0345- but that is another story.
 
That van could not do 88 off a cliff. IMHO.
 
We were bootstrapping a trip on a borrowed van, begged for supplies, and nowhere to sleep. Seriously- we slept on a trampoline in a church gym.
 
Bootstrapping, I tell ya.
 
We had no plan, no money, and no agenda.
We just wanted to help, and now we had a sponsor.
He made our trip into a hopeless situation possible, and we never really got a chance to thank him.
Not as much as we should have, anyway.
He died on the operating table right before Easter that next spring, and there has been in hole in my heart every time I see his widow and rapidly growing children.
I am not sure what to do or say, other than try to 'pay it forward' somehow.
 
And I saw her again today, Sept. 10. 4x.
 
After I had finally decided to stop talking about Sept.11.
 
You are tired of this old saw by now, right?- Skip the rest, then.
 
In the aftermath of craziness, when people with 'free will' do things that are clearly wrong, it gives the rest of us a chance to curl up in a ball.
 
Or shine.
 
Or 'pay it forward'.
 
And as I explain this to my kids, some of whom are not old enough to understand the take away from 9.11.01, I realize that praps none of us are old enough to understand it, until we decide to 'pay it forward' in our own special way.
So go out, and 'pay it forward'.
Are you a Doctor, in your own little OR world?
And how do you make your 'underlings' feel about that? The less polished, clumsy, inarticulate masses that make your job, life, and lifestyle possible?
Write that eulogy from their eyes, then rewrite it honestly. Will they still get choked up about you when they see your widow and kids, 8 years later?
 
Make that happen, and you have paid it forward.
 
Just like he did.
 
 
Posted on Thursday, September 10, 2009 at 17:05 by Registered CommenterKamran Popkin in | Comments3 Comments

Swag malpractice- got a room full of jr high kids? Got swag?


First, a confession, I loved the tv show Fame.

There, I said it.

Call me a 'big girl's blouse' if you will, but there it is.


Loved the show about the high school for the gifted and talented urban artistic kids, all of whom went into the performing arts and travelled the world, singing, dancing, acting, and following their muses.
My fandom was  probably because I was from a humble rural high school that fed our local 2 year agricultural college and factories. It was big news when one of us went 'to the big city'.

In fact, I do not personally recall any high minded artistic kids in our high school- they were probably busy listening to their muses and  practicing their craft.

Shamefully, I was at a tractor pull, mud bogging, or working in a greasy spoon.

Following no muse at all.


That said, I was taken aback recently when one of my favorite clients was showing me the contents of their 'swag closet'.

Do I need to define it, really? Swag?

SWAG- stuff we all get, has become an increasing passion with me, and not merely as swagmongering helps feed my family, but as it fascinates me- seeing when it is used to elegantly help strengthen relationships and connections.
And it also fascinates me to see it used poorly.

A process I have begun calling swag malpractice.


I was looking at the swag closet of this client, who happens to be the closest thing to 'Fame' that my untalented carcass has ever set foot in. The client is the our state's best school for arts and humanities. It is so good, they even call it that- the SCGSAH, and I hope that some day my kids will be able to attend. Or even talented enough to apply.

But you can't buy your way in, it is audition only, and they take only the best in the state.

This small handful of students are the best in the state- and the energy is incredible.


So inside the swag cabinet, I saw thousands of small Frisbees.

Crazy small, like 3 inches wide. Too small to fly well at all, but ok in a food fight, I guess.


'We only gave those out to prospective students once!' My client said. 'Can you imagine an auditorium full of jr high kids, darkened slightly for dramatic effect, when someone decided to throw the first Frisbee? It didn't take long for hundreds more to come down on us. It was a disaster!'

A swag disaster. Nice.


'Now we use them as coasters.'


Oh well, so much for the high- minded artsy students.

But they probably were not involved in the 3'' Frisbee tossing anyway. They were busy listening to their muse.
Who would have sold such an item for such an application, to such a client?!
Out of the swag gene pool- you have committed swag malpractice!

Not the client's fault-they paid for advice and a product.

They got coasters. And Frisbee pelted.

Posted on Saturday, September 5, 2009 at 17:38 by Registered CommenterKamran Popkin in | Comments2 Comments

Swagclub manifesto-snarky warning- move along.

snarky warning- this may sound a bit bitchy- please skip this post if you are easily offended. move along now, then. nothing to see here.
 
I burned the landing boats this week.
I quit a job I loved, that had a little bit of a safety net, because a much better opportunity came along. And as finicky and minuscule as it sounds, it was mainly over a case of cayenne pepper hot sauce.
Mind you, I am not criticizing cayenne pepper hot sauce, hell, I can count 6 in my cabinet right now. And jalapeno, chipotle, sri racha, habenero, sweet chili,chili garlic, and my personal fave of the wk- roasted chili oil. I love me a good hot sauce!
The cayenne pepper hot sauce in question came up a few weeks ago, a franchise client of ours had ordered a case of cayenne pepper hot sauce from a colleague.
Huzzah!
I was beside myself with excitement! The thing I love so much about the swag business is there really is an infinity of cool things we can produce, both off the shelf and from scratch. And this franchise client is one of my absolute favorites, so much so that I sat for a job with them a few years ago, as I love their team so much. I can honestly say that if I won the lottery, I would work for them for free, as a volunteer. Many retired people already do so.
They are a bright spot for our community and I love them like family. I get excited when their team has a new baby (one on the way, to deliver in a few weeks) and love to hear of their exploits, both at work and away.
I regularly lunch with them still, even though they are not officially my client. Hours of side splitting lunches with some of my favorite people. Because I believe in what they are doing. They make people better. I wish that kind of calling for my children.
And the thought of cayenne pepper hot sauce got my blood going!
The creative secret sauce started bubbling, for there are a million great tie ins to 'spice up' their already great place.
This was an intro to something big, I just knew it!
Something edgy.
Something sexxy!
me-'That's awesome!' I said, excitedly, 'Are we gonna do a new integrated campaign tying in the cayenne pepper hot sauce into a new identity, 'spicing up' the way they treat their clients, patients, and staff?'
my (now former) colleague-'Um, no. Didn't ask about that. Doesn't really tie in with anything. They just wanted some hot sauce.'
me-'What about sending out hot sauce of the month to all the recipients of the first round cayenne pepper hot sauce.
Praps a cornucopia of delicious flavors over the year, like jalapeno, chipotle, sri racha, habenero, sweet chili,chili garlic, and my personal fave of the wk- roasted chili oil. All branded with the logo of our great friends-and-relations at said client? That'd be fun!'
him-'Um, no. Just a one time order.'
me-'Wow- you know those cool lollipops that are pepper infused, bet they'd like some of those, too!'
In the distance, crickets chirp.
me-'You seen the cool new pens in the shape of a chili pepper? Coupla colors, they are dreamy! I wonder if they would like some of them.'
my (now former) colleague-'Um, no. Didn't ask about that- I was really just taking an order. You ask too many questions. I don't know and I don't care how they are going to use it.'
'just taking an order.'
Death knell rings here for effect.
Doinggggg.
Yep, there ya have it.
In the midst of the worst economy since 1929, I quit a job, as I need to surround myself with peeps who are not 'just taking an order'. I am not criticizing those in the marketplace who are happily 'just taking an order' and if that is your trip, go for it.
But we are not kindred spirits, and you are not of my tribe.
Bless your pea-picking, cow-like heart, I hope you take plenty of orders today.
And I hope clients beat a path to your door, for you to cheerfully and politely be on the team of 'just taking an order.'
I am not on that team.
I must walk a different path.
Not to sell you more, but to serve you better.
Below are a few questions, thanks to a dear friend and mentor- TMSR- that I am coaching all my new team to ask, and if you have some additions or subtractions please lemme know-as we are not 'just taking an order' at my house, in my office, or on my team.........
'What are we trying to accomplish?
Who are our audiences for this piece? Who do we want to connect with?
How is what we’re trying to accomplish relevant to our audiences?
What do we want our audiences to do?  
What does the project look like?  
How can we make this interesting? (Or why should people care?)
What are the competitors accomplishing that we’re not?
What are past successes; what is currently working?
What is the message of the piece?
What is the tone of the piece?
How will we launch it? What are the communications mechanisms?
What’s our timeframe?
What’s the budget?
How will we measure success? (*The big one. The mother ship question.*)'
 
 and she wraps with the special sauce...
'The important thing is to ENGAGE THE CLIENT IN THE PROCESS. They, as you know, have the most insights about what you’re trying to accomplish with any product, good service, or initiative.'
 
Friends, my pledge to you is this- I will give you anything humanly possible, including cayenne pepper hot sauce, but I and my team are going to ask a few questions first.
We want to ensure that our products are part of a project or program that really integrates into your overall message.
We will never 'just write up an order' cause it was easy.
We care too much to serve you so lightly.
'just taking an order'  forsooth-
'just taking an order' my ass!
 
So, I am back to my old sig line, too, as it is true...
--
as ever,
your obedient, humble, and cheerful servant,
A. Kamran Popkin
Creative Director
@swagclub
 
 
Direct Line-24/7:  864.316.6263
Home Office: 864.576.9520
Obedient, but not just taking orders. Not by a long shot.
Adding value, one bit of dreamy swag at a time.
Ask my mates.
 
Posted on Sunday, August 30, 2009 at 08:08 by Registered CommenterKamran Popkin in | Comments2 Comments

swagclub

It's on, folks. it is on. Swagclub now officially has legs. Like Ricky said to Luci- I got some splainin' to do, so bear with me-but here are the rules, most of 'em.

#1. You don't talk about swagclub.

#2. You don't talk about swagclub. Unless you need great swag.

#3. The search for great swag is over only when you say 'Wow- that nails it!'

#4. Only two guys to a fight. Unless we need help, then we bring in the big guns.

#5. One swag project at a time.

#6. We work with no ties or socks. Even on Sundays-always workin', but never stressin' the work.

#7. The quest for great swag goes on as long as it needs to. Gonna take some questions, as a perfect fit beats fast answers.

#8. First projects are often the start of a great relationship.

Or the end of a bad one.

#9. Great advice @swagclub is always free. Always.

goto twitter and check out @swagclub

Come join the club. Join the fight.

It's on.


--
A. Kamran Popkin
Creative Director



Direct Line: 864.316.6263

Posted on Saturday, August 22, 2009 at 10:26 by Registered CommenterKamran Popkin in | CommentsPost a Comment