Bienvenido a Miami

Just returned from rainy, but hot Miami. I was there speaking at a couple of conferences. It was nice that they were both in south Florida during the same week. It made travel a little easier, but that is one long flight from Seattle to Miami. Whenever I fly east, I try to take a red-eye (yes, I know that sounds crazy) because it saves me a day. I don't need that much sleep anymore (a Wu thing), so if I can catch 3-4 hours of sleep I am okay. My travel secret for red-eye flights is to use ear plugs, a sleep mask...and to help with relaxation, a double Jack and Gingerale. This time, the red-eye was pretty good...before I knew it we were wheels down and landing in tropical paradise.

My first speaking gig was in Naples, a 3 hour drive from the Miami International Airport. I was scheduled as the keynote speaker at the Prepared Foods New Products Conference. The conference put me up in the beautiful Naples Grand Resort, very nice. It was sunny, warm, with a slight breeze. I arrived about 11 am, and got checked into my nice poolside room. I had a choice between two fun events; a golf tournament or Everglades Tour. I decided on the tour. I didn't want to drag my golf stuff around, plus I already had 4 pairs of shoes along, and couldn't imagine packing a fifth pair of golf shoes. I can imagine the guffaws as I explain why I was packing 5 pairs of shoes to Lori and Melanie (I always complain about their packing when we go on vacation...couldn't be too hypocritical). I wasn't speaking until the next day, so I did get to enjoy a little the surrounding area.

The tour was goofy. The bus driver/guide, a retired steelmill worker from Pennsylvania, gave us a tour of the town of Naples at about 65 mph. We could barely see anything...his hurry? He gets some sort of commission for taking us to places where we can spend some money...the gift shop at the seafood restaurant, the ice cream parlour and gift shop, and the Everglades Boat Tour gift shop. It was amazing how much time we had to wander around a gift shopping area v. driving through the Everglades to spot wildlife. The closest we came to spotting wildlife was when he hit a flying Ibis with the bus as we roared down Alligator Alley on our way to the Seminole Indian Village...and gift shop. The 1.5 hour boat tour was pretty good. No airboats (darn!), but a giant pontoon boat run out of the National Park marina. We saw all the major bird groups...egrets, Osprey, ibis, storks, cranes, herons, hawks, buzzards, vultures, and even a nesting pair of Bald Eagles. The wildlife officer couldn't believe I wasn't too excited to see the eagles...I explained to her that I was from Seattle, and Bald Eagle sightings are pretty common..."like crows" I told her. I saw a group of dolphin while the crowd almost tipped the boat straining to see the eagles from the port side. I mentioned the dolphin sightings, and the crowd rushed quickly over to the starboard side where I was. The wildlife guide gunned the motor, and the dolphins took that as a sign from her to "play" with the boat. They use the wake from the stern (back) to ride, jump, surf, and just put on a show. Now THAT was cool. On our way back to the dock, we actually saw the rarest of the Everglades animals, 3 Manatees rolling around in the shallows. Turned out is was mating season, but I couldn't tell which end was heads or tails, just a couple of gray blobs in the stained water. On the bus ride back to the hotel, our driver just had to mention that he works for tips, and if we really enjoyed his guided tour of Naples, his rantings about the rich, the government, the war in Iraq, and his personal views of how best to manage the population explosion of that south Florida region, we should show our appreciation by tipping him accordingly. I gave him the free hat that came with the boat tour.

After opening the conference (about 225 attendees), I had to quickly check out and drive back to Miami for the Iconosphere 2008 Client Conference. This is the event of the year of Iconoculture. We hold this conference to bring as many clients as we can together to really inspire, inform and entertain them. We had about 380 show up in South Beach this year. Last year in Beverly Hills we had 275, so it is definitely growing in popularity. It was held this year at the Loews, South Beach...very, very nice. Unfortunately we had such an awesome turnout of clients that we didn't book enough room for all of us, so some of us had to stay next door at the Royal Palm Beach Resort...not so very, very nice. I had a nice room (recently renovated), but others weren't so lucky...some had bed bugs, fleas, and stained carpeting and furniture. CSI black lights would reveal those stains to be of human excretion type. And this place wasn't cheap.

Our keynotes were the legendary Ze Frank, of user generated, YouTube fame (dancing man), and Anthony Bourdain, reknowned chef, author and traveler. Wow, how fun is that? Since we are a consumer behavior company, these guys happened to leave me with a couple of tidbits to share. Ze Frank shares that consumers are learning new languages (your brand), and are willing to converse with you through new media interchanges. It isn't just us telling them what to believe anymore. It isn't as simple as advertising on billboards, in TV commercials. It might have to be communicated in totally new ways. Of course he used user-generated examples like the Mentos and Diet Coke videos to make a point. How would you react to your product being hijacked in this way...obviously not the way you expected consumers to use your product, but a dialogue nontheless. Bourdain is just plain hilarious. He is so direct, spontaneous and clever that his Q and A session had me laughing until I was crying. He is the master of telling mini stories to make his points. Food is the conversation a chef wants to have with a diner. The closer you can get to the chef, the better the conversation and understanding. His favorite example is the true sushi experience. You sit at the bar, and the chef decides what you will eat. He hands you the sushi and you take it with your fingers. That is as intimate a conversation as it gets. The chef is learning what you like based upon your response to his offerings, and the dinner "conversation" morphs as you each learn about each other through that exchange. He is an advocate of what he calls "eating submission". Cooking for a chef is about control...the food, flavor, texture, etc. So eating should be about a diners submission to that chef's cooking. The meal is an interaction with what the chef thinks you will like...that is the purest form of cooking. Unfortunately that is the opposite of the eating and dining culture in most of America. The diners are in control, demanding what they think they want. Too many chefs are frustrated because they cannot give you what they believe is delicious. He mentions two vanguards...Mario Batali, who has made organ meats fashionable, and Adrain Ferrar, the founder of molecular gastronomie. He had one other piece of sage advice for us...we need to go back into our heritages and learn to eat what our grandparents loved to eat.

My best foodie experience in Miami was in Little Havana...Calle Ocho. Our Hispanic Strategist recommended that for good Cuban food, I should try Versaille Restaurant. It was an adventure finding the place, but man oh man was I glad I didn't give up! I dragged a couple of colleagues who also love Cuban food along for the ride. The feast began immediately when they brought us a basked of warm garlic toast...my mouth is watering as I type this. We ordered Malanga Fritters (they were out of Codfish Fritters) and Tostones for appetizers, and then to maximize our tasting opportunity, we went with sampling platters. My friends each had the "classico" of Roast Cuban Pork, a Corn Tamale, Ground Meat Picadilla, fried Plantains, and Black Beans and Rice. I went with the "Criollo", which means "original"...that was loaded with Fried Pork Chunks, Yucca, Fried Plantains, Ropa Vieja, Yellow Rice and Black Beans. My onliest disappointment was that they left out the fried pig skin, I am sure they ate that in the back...what gringo would want that? We ate like pigs, and even forced down some dessert...we split the Flan Cubano (velvety smooth), a Key Lime Pie (loads of condensed milk), and our favorite, the Pastel Tres Leches (oh, soooo good), all washed down with Cafe Cubano. This place was so good I came back on my last night in Miami with another bunch of Iconoculturistas. I missed the Codfish Fritters last time, so they were a must, along with fried Yucca, Ceviche (Red Snapper in lime juice), Ham Croquettes, and more Tostones. Then I had a Beef Liver done Milanesa style...breaded. I had to do it after listening to Tony Bourdain. I have to admit...not my first choice if I go back, but I enjoyed it. The two pitchers of Sangria didn't hurt.

My week in south Florida went down easy, like the Mango Mojitos at the Delano (must do!), and had the same effect. I am groggy but smiling.

Chow!

Paging Dr. Wu...

My younger brother, the doctor, turns 45 on Monday. It is hard to imagine your baby brother being 45, but then again, I hate being his older brother. I don't ever think we will consider each other grown ups, even though we both have kids in college.

I was thinking about him the other day when a friend of mine was telling me his doctor suggested that on his 50th birthday he should schedule a colonoscopy with a Gastroenterologist...whoopee! What a birthday gift to yourself. It reminded me of Duke (not his real name, but his childhood nickname) because he is a Gastroenterologist, and because I am nearing 50 as well. But I am not sure I would want my little brother to do the "work" on me for a couple of reasons...modesty (who wants their brother poking and peering up orifices?) is a minor reason, the big reason is fear of cosmic karma. In a very vulnerable position he could get back at me for those early years of torture I inflicted on him when we were kids. Here are just a few choice memories I have replaying in my mind when I think about it:

1. I broke his nose, literally smashed it off his face. We were on a cross country trip from California to our new permanent home in the US in Virginia. We had been stationed in Japan and Okinawa during the Vietnam War. Dad decided we could make a nice 2 week trip of it in a rental station wagon. 7 of us piled into the station wagon with all of our luggage in the back and on top. It was misery for most of that trip. We stayed in inexpensive motels, sleeping 3 or so to a bed. The Dukester and I were in a bed with my sister, he kept fidgeting, kicking me under the covers...basically trying to get comfortable. I had had it...I sat up, leaned over and put a lick on him. He screamed, and when he got up, his nose was nowhere to be found! Just two nostrils on his face. My dad came over and performed rhinoplasty right there with his bare hands, reforming his nose between his too thumbs. Duke's nose was spurting blood and he was howling like a Banshee. I never did get in trouble when I gave my side of the story. I still don't know why I didn't get my heiney spanked, but I felt worse when I didn't. Dad did a good job re-forming his nose. He actually has a nice looking nose now. But that doesn't justify anything.


2. I shot him with my b-b gun...more than once. I still remember the worst one though. We were "playing" some sort of fugitive game down by the "tracks". The tracks were an old railroad bed with the rails removed. It covered a long trail from town out to Bull Run Battlefield. We spent hours playing by the tracks. In this instance we had Duke cornered behind a big hedgerow. We (a friend and I) were shooting b-b's high over the bush, low, but not directly into the bush for fear of hitting him. I saw a hole in the bush that I was going to shoot at. As soon as I squeezed the trigger, poor Duke's head popped up in that hole, and I freaked. Too late, the copper bullet was headed right for him. He squealed and then unleashed a string of curse words aimed at me. His worst was yet to come...he threatened to "Tell Dad." That was the ultimate threat. He knew that would turn me into a quivering mass of jello willing to do anything to keep that from happening. Our Dad believed in the NRA method of gun safety. Rule #1: Never point a gun at another person. Oh, the punishment I would get if he found out I had broken that rule! Duke's retribution was to shoot me point blank anywhere below the waist...except for that most sensitive of male anatomy.


3. I beaned him with a rock. Once again I had Duke trapped behind something like a bush, but this time with rocks. We had a rockfight going and I had him on the run. I started lobbing rocks high, mortar like, to see if I could cause some damage. I made a spectacular (in my estimation) toss nice and high, and it came down right on his head! He was gushing blood like a Samurai Gang member in a Kill Bill flick. I thought I had killed him! Luckily he didn't need stitches, but he still had a big ol' gash on the very top of his skull. I am sure he still has the scar.


4. I roped him like a steer. We loved to play Cowboys and Indians when we were in grade school. We had the coolest leather holsters and full-sized Colt .45's. Mine was nickel plated with white Ivory grips, Duke's was nickel plated with carved horn grips. That was one of our favorite games to play. It was rare for us to have a rope, but one day we found ourselves with a nice length of nylon rope...perfect for roping cattle. Our neighbor was supposed to be the cattle, and Duke was going to drive that lil' dogie right past me so's I could rope him. The neighbor kid ran mooing past me, but on the opposite side of our Hibiscus hedge...all's I could see was the tops of his and Duke's heads bobbing up and down. I swung the rope over my head, making the loop open up wider and wider and then flung it over the hedge at the neighbor. Unfortunately I neglected to compensate for their speed and ended up catching poor Duke right around the top of his head...perfectly eye level. I yanked hard to close the lariat loop and dropped him like a sack of spuds! He had a rope burn around his head and eyelids. He was yelling and screaming at me, but I was laughing too hard to hear him.


5. I hung him in a Hangman's Noose. Poor Duke, us older kids could talk him into anything. The older neighbor boy taught me how to tie a Hangman's Noose with that same piece of rope, but we needed something to test the strength of the knot. My older sister, Viv and I asked Duke to participate. We insisted that "it won't hurt at all". Totally true. We knew how dangerous it would be to hang him by his neck, so we said we would just test it by hanging him from his ankles...just for a quick second, and then we would let him down. He relented, and we tightened the noose around his ankles. We threw the rope over a tree branch and then yanked as hard as we could to lift him off the ground. We hoisted him up until all the blood was rushing to his head. Then we let him hang...1 second, 10 seconds, 15 seconds...he was screaming at us, threatening to kill us. We were amazed at how strong that knot was, and when you have someone in a vulnerable position, well you can't waste that opportunity. We tickled him, swung him back and forth, and teased him. But we started to feel bad, so we let him down, and ran for it. He had a mean little temper for a kid.


6. I tore his favorite Teddy Bear in half. I admit, it was an act of rage. I accused him of kidnapping my bear (probably not true) and we were arguing about something stupid...who remembers those stupid arguments? The result of our fight ended up with his poor Teddy torn in two, and shredded beyond repair. That bear still haunts me in my nightmares...must be my guilt. The way I tore that helpless bear in half makes me cringe when I think about a Colonoscopy...I grabbed it by the legs and ripped...that is the only time I have seen him cry because of something I did to him. He never cried after any of the other stories, just this time.

It's funny, I can picture him screaming at me, but I can't recall what he is screaming. He was a yeller as a kid, with a mean temper, and his face would turn beet red he would get so angry and frustrated at us. I think his favorite come back was, "I am going to kill you!" So you can't blame me for turning pale when someone suggests that Duke could do my first colonoscopy in a couple of years...he still has time to make that threat real.

We had a very adventurous childhood, with loads of good memories as well. We loved to build forts, start fires and steal things. Sorry Mom and Dad, but yes, your boys had an evil, destructive streak. We had a knack for destroying shrubs, flowers and bushes. We tortured small animals. My wife believes that Hell for me (why does she assume that is my eternal fate?) will be punishment given out by squirrels, chipmunks, lizards, ducks, geese and other small animal victims that have suffered by my hand.

But this is supposed to be a tribute article for Duke on his Birthday, so I guess I'd better get to that.

He is the smartest person I know. I still remember how embarrassed I was in High School because my younger brother would be in my chemistry, math and biology classes. Not only would he do well, he would destroy the curve for the rest of us average students. My buddies would hassle me about it. That didn't stop when he entered college, and happened to follow me to the very school I was attending. He had a 4.0, and my parents wondered what I had been doing instead of studying. If he attended a different school I could've used the different curriculum excuse, but he was taking the same courses I had taken the previous year. He is the doctor my parents always longed for in our family, someone to compare favorably with to the over-achieving cousins. I accused him of being way too serious and not fun-loving enough. Now I look back and see that he was focused on what needed to be done, and he stuck to it.

That level of responsibility (even at a young age) sets him apart. He has ethics and morals to help him make decisions. Can one be ethical to a fault? I hope not, but it does mean others may try to take advantage, and they probably have. His high degree of ethics also makes others think he might be stubborn, unreasonable and close-minded. I don't think that is because of his ethics, that is just because he is stubborn, unreasonable and close-minded!

He is a natural athlete. He can seemingly accomplish anything he decides to do...except on the dance floor. Not sure what happened there, but his "disco" gene is definitely mutated. But in other athletic displays, he comes across as confident and capable. Maybe that is why he gave up golf...and maybe why I should consider that as well.

He is the thin, good-looking one. He can eat as much as he wants and is still the same size as he was in college. I smell food and gain weight. He still looks like he is in his 2o's. No gray hair, no wrinkles, no beer belly, no fair. But if he needed a kidney, I would give it to him.

He is a great family man. His family comes first...no matter what. His kids may argue with me about this one, but not from where I sit. I would enjoy more time with him as we get older, but I also know where our relationship is in comparison to his family responsibilities.

So Happy Birthday, Dukie! Writing this brought back so many great memories of growing up with you. I hope you have happy thoughts from our childhood together as well.

Ciao!

Foreign Exchange Student

We have a foreign exchange student staying with us for a couple of weeks of home stay. I think the exchange group was looking for "typical" American families to place the kids into. Not sure if we fit that profile, but poor Elisa got us. I asked what the objectives were for the students, and the group leader said that they hoped their German kids would get a taste of a typical American Teenagers' life. So, after about a week, these are the conclusions I come to about typical American Teens:

1. They aren't as smart (or driven) as the teens in the rest of the world. I started "seeing" what Elisa was seeing and I started asking her what she thought about different observations she made and pointed out. She said that in Europe the kids spend the school day learning, while it seemed that American kids worked hard at avoiding learning. She said that here, there are more social events (pep rally, school assemby) built into their day. She was amazed at how easy the course loads were, even in the AP and Honors level classes. She says the motives of kids in her school are about passing difficult final exams and hoping to land a spot in the university because there are more hopefuls than the schools can handle. She speaks 3 languages fluently, and adds latin studies to help her meet her university requirements. How many of our kids are like that? Elisa is not an over-achiever, she feels she is typical and average in her school.
2. American Teens focus on social aspects of school v. educational opportunities. Elisa is very smart, she notices that kids here spend way more time and energy trying to get in with the right crowds, have other kids like them, and find their space in the pecking order of the HS hallway. She says in Germany, there isn't that much of an opportunity to behave that way. The first social dance her school had ever had was last year when it put on a winter ball. And that dance was the result of 18 kids from last year's visit to America wanting to start a similar tradition to our Homecoming. I think German kids feel the same things, but they can't obsess about them when they are in demanding classes all day. She seemed dumbfounded at the idea of Cheerleaders and Drill Team and wondered why this small group controlled the social structure and hierarchy of the school.
3. American Teens eat way too much. Maybe the world is right, America is obese because our portions sizes are too big. Here is what this German 18 year old eats in a typical day: a small glass of orange juice, a half serving of cereal with milk for breakfast. Half a sandwich, small yogurt and 10 grapes for lunch, and 1 small serving of whatever we are having for dinner (protesting at how full she was after 1 meatball with her spaghetti). When another host family took her and a friend to Dick's Drive In (best burgers, fries and shakes in Seattle) she had 1 cheeseburger, no fries and she split a milk shake with her friend. That seemed like an appetizer when I compare her eating habits to my own 16 year old (who is a perfectly buff and trim size 0), I was amazed. To be fair, my daughter does swim competitively which burns calories and makes her ravenous. But it is the "what" as well as the "how much" that is strikingly different. No junk food, no soda (juice and water when she is thirsty), and the only candy I saw her eat was gum. When I asked her and a friend the biggest difference between her house and ours, they both gave the same answer, which to me means they have discussed this...they said they couldn't believe how huge our refrigerators are over here. Okay, maybe there is a direct correlation between obesity rates and cubic inches of refrigeratiors.
4. American Teens have way too much money. Elisa stresses about how much things cost, understanding the sacrifice her parents made just to send her here. She seems to understand the value of things, and doesn't just expect to be given anything because she wants it, or "needs it". When one of her friends lost a cell phone loaned to her by her host family, all of them worried about finding it, how to replace it if it couldn't be found...to the point that none of them could enjoy the sight-seeing they were doing. When the lost phone was found, it was a major celebration and relief because it had real value to them, and they felt responsibility in the loss. Most of the Americans thought, "no big deal, they can just get a new one". She is amazed that most of her American peers all either had their own car, or a car to use whenever they wanted. She will get drivers education fees as her graduation present because it is such an expense for her parents.

Maybe I am too hard on our teens, and that privilege comes with the "American Dream" package. But I am presenting the American Teen from the perspective of a German Teen...this is what she is seeing and learning about our culture from her short 3 week stay. I hope we put or best foot forward and also taught her that we are a caring people, generous to a fault, and that we love our children so much that we are blind to the ways we might actually be hurting them.

Let me close with one more observation...teen girls the world over are still mesmerized by the shopping mall, "the best American invention ever", according to Elisa.

Chow!

The Second Year is Tougher...

It has been two weeks since my oldest left for THE Ohio State University. It is his sophomore year. I actually am worse with missing him this year than last, and that has me thinking about why. So you all get the benefit of my musings and emotions.

Here is where I land on the subject of why it is harder on me this year than last. I think it is because his leaving a second time is really just marking time to when he leaves for the last time. It is closer now than last year. He has more ties, connections and emotions in Ohio than he had last year. Sure, he loves us and loves his home state, but he is starting to love Columbus as well. Last year we knew he was looking forward to coming home, this year he was looking forward to going back. I haven't been planning for this kind of emotion for me. I had been looking forward to the empty nest, but now I am not so sure. Now as I prepare for that separation, I have to do "scenario planning" so I am not totally wrecked. Part of that planning tells me that between his junior and senior years he will probably take an internship somewhere other than home, so really we have just one more complete summer with him being our "kid". Maybe I need to visit him this spring, maybe I can drive him home this summer and we can do a "road trip". That sounds like a good plan.

I have always wondered about parents wanting their kids to live near them; thinking that way seemed too limiting for the kids, but now I am feeling the exact same kinds of thoughts. Our neighborhood is full of young families where the Moms or Dads went away for school and a few years, but then have found their way back to their home neighborhood. The high school is full of teachers and administrators that went to that school as teenagers, and now find themselves back as adults. It was always strange to me, that tug of home, but now I find myself wanting that for my kids. Well, I struggle with that, because I do and I don't. In my head I want them first to go find their own way, to be the best that their abilities (and a little luck) will let them be, and if they can do that near us and home, so be it. But if that takes them overseas and far away, that is okay too. In my heart I would love it if they decided they could have a fulfilling career and make a life close to home. I regret not having more family traditions and making more family memories that might be a stronger magnet for home.

It's okay if this entry makes you cry...I am crying as I type this.

Chow!