So, how did it go?

I managed to navigate the scrutiny of a top retained executive search firm and a round of interviews with a division of a global manufacturing firm. The company is based in college town about two hours west of me, so an offer might mean relocation and starting over with a host of daily rituals (coffee shop, library, grocery stores, networking and meeting people to name just a few). On the other hand the opportunity seems well worth the sacrifice. Those thoughts are bumping into each other inside my head but, I know, these issues tend to work themselves out if it comes to “getting the offer.”

“So, how did it go?” is the opening question from my wife and a short list of colleagues who know I am in the running for this position. It is sometimes followed up with the question “How did they leave it with you? Next steps?” I can only respond with impressions of a victim of a flawed process.

In my case, I struggle a little with the idea of running my own business vs. becoming a hired gun in another corporate scenario. I’m not gonna lie. I’m flattered when somehow my resume, reputation and experience rise to the top in a search. I have a solid track record of managing marketing communications.  I’ve done it all of my professional life. Notably, in the past dozen years in roles as head of communications and marketing. My consulting practice has helped me realize that marketing communications in recent years, in particular, has a tendency to be undervalued, misunderstood and even neglected. So, when a company is considering restoring that function, chances are they have no frame of reference - or worse a bundle of unrealistic expectations.

Nevermind the simple fact that cutbacks and reorganization have decimated the in house staff and eliminated outsourcing for marketing communications, what seems to be left is an organization with operations people and number-crunchers. Sadly they have to assess what’s missing. So how did it go? I have no idea.  

What does it all mean?

 My grandfather graduated from Saint Louis University more than 100 years ago with a medical degree. (I love that connection with St. Louis and my own family tree.) Unfortunately the study of medicine didn’t prevent John Benjamin Morgan (my grandfather) from losing his life to heart disease before he reached the age I will celebrate later this month. Meanwhile my dad is still living and expressing himself in water color paintings every day at the age of 93. My father remembers when his mother (my grandmother) passed away. She lived into her 80s. On her deathbed she asked, “What does it all mean, Jimmy?” I can’t help reflecting on that innocent question from time to time. Especially when you lose someone.

Years ago, when I was on my way to my own High School Graduation, I was listening to Cat Stevens (probably on an 8-Track player in my father’s Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme). “Oh very young, what will you leave us this time? ...You’re only dancing on this earth for a short while…” I was moved by that song to the point of replaying the tune over and over again.

Tragically, recent news in St. Louis of a hit-and-run driver resulting in the death of Amber Wood, a young woman in her 20s with everything to live for becomes another painful reminder of how fragile this life really is. Her mom is bravely dealing with the incredible loss with periodic posts on facebook. Friends are quick to offer prayers and expressions of sympathy. I can’t imagine the grief. I hope and pray the memories of Amber will give her mom courage to carry on.

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time? You’re only dancin’ on this earth for a short while…

The Tailored Idea

Build-to-suit or Settling for Low Cost Alternatives. Real estate professionals, architects, engineers, builders and owners can find themselves faced with a dilemma in an environment of economic uncertainly. It has always been true that buying exclusively based on lowest price is a dangerous way to do business. Catering to such clients can be hazardous as well. 

Consider the guy looking to buy a new suit. He enters a clothing store but he doesn’t want to spend too much money. The tailor shows him a designer brand nice suit for $400. “It is too much,” he says. Shown another suit for $200, he says, “It’s still too much money.” After several others, finally he is shown one that only costs $10. “That’s more like it!” the guy says, and tries it on. He looks in the mirror and one sleeve is about two inches shorter than the other.

“No problem,” says the tailor, “Just hunch up your right shoulder.”

So the guy hunches his right shoulder way up, and the sleeves look OK, but the lapels are crooked.

“No problem,” says the tailor, “Just stick out your left arm and cock it like a bird’s wing.”

So the guy sticks out his left arm and the lapels look OK. But then he notices that one pant leg is shorter than the other.

“Well, just keep that leg stiff,” says the tailor, “and no one will notice.”

“I’ll take it!” the guy says.

The guy leaves the tailor shop wearing the suit. Walking with his left leg stiff, one arm stuck out like a bird’s wing, and one shoulder hunched way up. Walking down the street he passes two orthopedic surgeons.”I have never seen anyone in such bad shape in my twenty-five years of practice!” says one of the doctors. “Me neither,” the other doctor says. “Nice suit, though.”

Maybe we all need to remember, even in the face of increased pressure to deliver low-cost solutions, the integrity of our collective professional lives depends on value without compromise, appropriate quality, and sustainable building that will serve well into the future. Ultimately, when someone says “Nice building!” let’s hope it is true for the intended life-cycle of the project.

Huddle Up

I gave my first tour as a docent at the Laumeier Sculpture Park this past week. I’ve been on a crash course of training of weekly meetings, internet searches and online art exploration to prepare. Art is a lifelong passion for me. Now I  am charged with sharing a little with a classroom field trip of Kindergarten kids. Big impressions can be made at such a young age. I am anxious to see if I can share some of my enthusiasm with these youngsters. The Park is 105 acres and has something like 70 major works - some part of the permanent collection, some on lone and others that are “site specific” installations that eventually erode or must be removed due to the effects to the outdoor elements. My plan was to keep is simple and hope to make an impression.  

“Okay kids. I’m Wes Morgan and I am your docent. That means I am here to introduce you to some of the art and teach you a little about this museum. It is a museum too – even though it is outside. All of the work you will see today is created by internationally acclaimed contemporary artists who have produced monumental work.” I know some of this introduction was not going to be retained. I also knew, on a glorious Spring day like this one, it would be hard to leave this place without an impression.

Ten (10) five year olds require a high energy teacher and a few extra adult supervisors to coral so the tour begins with an intro and a bit of a gameplan. “Here’s what we are going to do. I have a playbook – and like a coach or a quarterback I will let you know what we will be doing as we go. So when I ask everyone to bring it in and huddle up - that means I am going to need your attention.” It worked like a charm. Inside an hour and a half I was able to brief this group on ten remarkable works of art. They were engaged and excited.

Nikki de Saint Phalle, Ernest Trova, Judith Shea, Mark de Suvero, Alexander Liberman, Robert Chambers, Charles Ginnever etc. They won’t remember the artists’ names. But they will remember something - colors, shapes, design and how the art made them feel. That’s something.    

The Best of All Possible Worlds

I had the pleasure of joining my daughter, Lindsey, for the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music production of Candide, the opera composed in 1956 by Leonard Bernstein. We made the trip from St. Louis to see her friend in one of the lead roles on Friday Night (a road trip from St. Louis – some 225 miles.) It’s a journey and a chance for quality time. 

Candide is Voltaire’s magnum opus. I read it in college and am now reading it again. (Not in its original French of course.)  Candide is characterized by its sarcastic tone, as well as by its erratic, fantastical and fast-moving plot. Voltaire, through this story, ridicules religion, theologians, governments, armies, philosophies, philosophers and optimism in general. The main character, Candide, experiences a slow, painful disillusionment as he witnesses and experiences great hardships in the world. Voltaire is not rejecting optimism outright but advocating an enigmatic precept, "we must cultivate our garden", in lieu of the mantra of Candide’s mentor Pangloss, "all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds.”

Candide has enjoyed both great success and great scandal after its secretive publication in 1759. Candide, however, with its sharp wit and insightful portrayal of the human condition, inspired many later authors and artists to mimic and adapt it.

All that said and with all due respect to Voltaire. I count myself pretty lucky to be spending this time with my daughter in this, the best of all possible worlds. 

P.S. As a bonus - we got to see that fantastic Alexander Calder Sculpture in front of the Jacobs School of Music (shown in photo above).  

In Transition

The PGA Tour is in full swing. This past week the greatest golfers in the world visited the Tampa Bay area at the event sponsored by Transition Lenses. TV spots during the broadcast of the tournament demonstrated how a pair of glasses with Transition Lenses will adjust to light to protect your eyes and help you to see the world better – especially if you happen to be a professional golfer. The glasses automatically adjust and filter the light.
“I’m in Transition.” Is a short declaration we hear a lot lately when we participate in networking events or business social gatherings. It’s a word that quickly identifies a person exploring job opportunities and is currently unemployed or at least not fully employed. That “I’m in Transition” conversational ice-breaker will likely lead to a short summary of career achievements and perhaps a more pointed challenge to share potential connections at a target company(s).

The word is like a lot of business buzz-words and phrases that get used so frequently it almost becomes cliché. The overuse of the word is unfortunate. But for now, it solves a real problem thousands of smart and talented people have in a tough economy. It is part of a vocabulary that will hopefully begin the facilitation of personal economic rebound. It puts a harmless description on what is often a rough time for a business person.

But aren’t we all in transition? Isn’t it part of the human condition? Change is natural and should be expected. We aren’t butterflies moving from caterpillar state anticipating a total transformation in which we spread our wings and take flight? We are people living with all the ups and downs that go with a full lifetime of experiences. We need to understand that our world changes and we change over time too. We need to make adjustments in ourselves and how we view things.

Too bad the people at Transition Lenses can’t manufacture the technology that permits each and every human being to get an automatic adjustment to environment they are in so that everything seems just perfect all the time. Funny, they used to criticize people who were looking at the world through “rose colored glasses.”

Rock Soup

Maybe you have heard the story of Rock Soup. It is one of my favorites. I think it is a fitting tale for tough times about leadership and community action.

A soldier, after a bitter was returning home from war. He wandered through the cold and snow.  He was tired and starving. He came to a village, picked a house and knocked on the door. Explaining his plight, he asked for a little something to eat. The man at the door shook his head and responded that he had a family to feed. They were hungry themselves. The scene repeated house after house - the answer was the always the same.  It had been a hard winter. The villagers were all hungry.

The soldier thought, and formed a plan. He gathered some sticks and wood.  He built a campfire in the village square.  He borrowed a black iron pot which was resting against the wall of an empty blacksmith shop. He filled the pot with snow. 

Onlookers stared at him with curiosity.  The soldier then gathered some smooth, dark stones.  He inspected each closely, smelled them individually, wiped them clean, and then placed them gingerly, one by one, into the pot. The soldier then took a big wooden spoon from his knapsack and began stirring the water in the pot and occasionally taking a taste.  ''Mmmmmm,''  he finally said,  ''this is the best Rock Soup I have tasted in a long time.'' 

The villagers couldn't believe their ears. Rock Soup?  Surely he was mad! The soldier took one more taste and then said, ''This is good soup but it needs something, perhaps a carrot. Yes, that's it, a little bit of carrot would make it perfect!''  An elderly villager stepped forward, looked into the pot, paused a moment, then said, ''I think I might have a couple of carrots in my cellar, I will bring them.''  On his return the carrots were added to the Rock Soup.

Again the soldier continued to stir and taste and stir and taste. ''This is pretty good Rock Soup, the carrots made it better, but it is still missing something.  Perhaps a few onions would make it even better.''  Just as the soldier said this a few villagers scurried off.  Upon their return, the soldier was given more than a few onions. Into the pot went the onions.

Again the soldier continued to stir and taste and stir and taste. ''This is very good Rock Soup, the carrots and onions made it better, but it is still missing something.  Perhaps a few potatoes would make it even better.''  The ever-steaming brew by now was starting to smell delicious.  A good number of villagers bustled off.  Upon their return, the soldier was presented with a potatoes enough to fill the pot. 

As he let it simmer, others brought bits of this and that to add flavor.  Tasting it one more time, he exclaimed it was ''Perfect!''  Soon everyone in the town was able to enjoy a bowl of this wonderful soup. All of the villagers proclaimed: “It was the best Rock Soup they had ever eaten!”