Strawberries for Bill

Bill Dunbar was my father-in-law, my accountant but most of all my friend. He died on May 19, 2010, and he left behind a legacy of love and laughs. I am lucky with my in-laws – I hardly think of them as “in-laws.” They’re family. Bill always made certain to tell me that I was part of the family and that I belonged to them. Although his death has been hard for me, my heart aches for Linda, Matt, Mark, and Paige for having lost a husband and a father so early. They are a very close, loving family, and I know with support from each other and their friends, they will make it through this difficult time and one day be able to think of Bill without the sharp pain of loss and mainly feel the joy that he brought while he was here.

The evening before the funeral, there was a rosary service in Bill’s honor. Near the end of the service, people were invited to come to the front and talk about how Bill had touched their lives. We heard from the OSU student Bible study group – students who were unsure of their faith and future that received guidance and hugs from Bill. We heard from a Kairos volunteer who traveled to the prisons in Oklahoma with him to minister to the inmates – he was of a different Christian faith but they put aside differences and worked together. We heard from a fellow Deacon and his wife who were touched by Bill while preparing for the Deaconate together – and who received Sonic Drive-In food for lunch from him instead of the terrible cafeteria food. I know I’m leaving several out, but what I took from it was that Bill had many families where he shared his love. The main themes were his goodness, spirituality, big heart, and bear hugs. He gave the best hugs.

He was buried on Monday, May 24. From the day he died until the funeral, the community came out in full force to support the Dunbars by bringing food and hugs to the family. Each time they came, they brought strawberries. They’re in season, they’re delicious, and they’re an easy dessert. We were so grateful to receive them, but it became a bit of a joke that we would have to have a strawberry fight to get rid of them before they all molded. We never took a count of how many cartons we received, but it was a lot. As they continued to stack up, the joke became more of a plan – we would have a strawberry fight after Bill’s funeral.

The morning of the funeral came, and we were all ready. It was something we dreaded but also sought – hoping it would bring closure or peace. In a way, it did. Time moves strangely when you’re in mourning – days run together, food is just to keep you on your feet, sleep doesn’t come, eyes constantly brimming ready to weep. It’s hard to talk about Bill without laughing a lot though – he was a funny man, and he was always ready with a joke or a pun – so I won’t say it was all tears and long faces. I hoped after the funeral, we could start trying to heal – to go out in public, to begin sorting through the house, to wear mascara again. The funeral was beautiful. The church was overflowing with mourners and clergy, and the choir sang his favorite songs. There was a graveside service and then a lunch at the parish hall with a slideshow of pictures from Bill’s life that Matt, Mark, and Paige put together.

When we got back to the house, there were two large flats of strawberries on the porch from some of Paige’s friends – they had heard about the strawberry fight and wanted to contribute. We changed into comfortable clothes, and as family left and friends arrived, we fell into talking outside on the back porch – like we so frequently do out there. We set the strawberries in the afternoon sun, so they would be nice and soft for the fight. We all knew it was coming.

As the sun was beginning to set, without a word of agreement or discussion of any kind, someone picked up a pack of strawberries and moved out into the vast lawn. There was no resistance – no inhibitions or anyone saying ‘don’t get it in my hair’ – we all just went with it. We ran, tackled, squished, and threw all of the fresh strawberries we had and then proceeded to find those that were still large enough to throw again and again. They stung a little if the thrower hadn’t squeezed them first, but it felt so good to hit and be hit and run and exert ourselves. Paige preferred to run up and squish them directly on her target – Mary liked to tackle – Mark preferred a shotgun effect by throwing several at once. We were like children. We all gave in and let all of that emotion flow through us. We smelled sweet and were covered in sticky, strawberry mess. Bill was with each of us individually and all of us together at the same time. He would have loved it, and it seemed like the most fitting activity as a farewell tribute to the man we all loved so much. After we exhausted our arms, legs, and strawberry artillery, I started hosing everyone off, but it was going too slow, so Matt’s friend Phil decided instead we should all jump in the pond. Again, no inhibitions, no worries (I hadn’t ever gotten in the Dunbar’s pond because I was afraid) – we just jumped in and played like children.

There were no injuries that day – well, nothing serious anyway. Mary twisted her ankle while tackling me and left her phone in her pocket as she jumped into the pond, but she’s fine, and it was an old phone. Paige and Matt both got a couple of nasty bruises. I lost my wedding band either in the lawn or the pond. I was certainly very upset – especially since it was the ring Bill had blessed at our wedding – but I decided that if it was ever going to be lost on any day during any activity, I was glad that it was on the day we buried Bill, somewhere in the vast plot of land he so lovingly cultivated and nurtured, and after the greatest strawberry fight of all time.

Regardless of what you believe happens (or doesn’t happen) after death, our loved ones will always be with us. We carry them in our hearts, souls, brains, memories, energy or whatever you want to call it. Although it sucks so much to know that you will never get another hug from them or hear them laugh, you will always have their love. I am grateful to have known Bill and will carry him with me always.

The kindness of strangers

As I was walking my dog last week, I had a very bizarre experience, and I can't seem to get over it. I just moved to LA, and my neighborhood is great - Spanish-style houses from the 30s and 40s that have been converted (tastefully) into duplexes. The lawns are all well manicured with succulents, cacti, palm trees, and hardy flowers in the gardens... I could go on forever about how much I love my neighborhood, but that's not what's been bothering me.

Miles, my trusty hound, and I had just rounded the corner of Orange and Willoughby when we saw this elderly gentleman using the ramp on the back of his car to get his mechanical wheel chair onto the curb. He was all alone, and as I walked by, I remember thinking, "Should I offer to help?" My instincts told me that this was not the kind of man who would accept help - and could very well be pissed off by my inclination that he needed it. So, we continued passed him. After maybe 30 steps, I heard a crash and a very loud and frantic call for help - he had fallen! I ran back to him feeling terribly guilty that I hadn't at least asked to help, tied Miles to the fence, and asked him if he had a cell phone on him, so that I could call an ambulance. He was lying on his side, between the car tire and the curb. Despite my fears, he seemed fine, but he continued yelling for help.

He very roughly handed me his cell phone that had been clipped to his belt, saying at the same time that he did not need an ambulance - he just needed help getting back up. So, I sat his phone back down on the curb and offered my hands to help pull him up. He took one look at me, continued yelling for help, and spat, "You can't help me - you're not strong enough. I'm at least 200 lbs..." Feeling foolish and inadequate I said, "My husband is gone for the day and I just moved here and don't know anyone in the neighborhood to ask. What do you want me to do?" Finally, he told me which house to ring. I asked for his name - which he hesitantly gave - because I wasn't going to ring some stranger's doorbell and say, "There's a grouchy old man outside on the curb who needs your help."

The woman who came to help was smaller than I am, she was wearing scrubs and rubber gloves, and she spoke with slightly Russian-accented English. I asked her if there was anything I could do to help, and she told me no, that she would take it from there. She ran back inside to grab more help, and as I untied Miles and walked away, I muttered the most pathetic words to have ever passed my lips: I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I saw him today on his motorized chair while I was driving home. He looked miserable and pale, but he was clearly 'fine'. I really hope that I never reach a point that I would scoff at the kindness of strangers.

I know I shouldn't expect gratitude, and I think this might be what bothers me most - not that he didn't thank me for doing what his paid attendants should have been doing in the first place but that I was so hurt that he didn't even acknowledge that I could have kept walking. That even if I couldn't have helped him up (I'm certain that I could have or I wouldn't have offered) I made sure he didn't lay there without help for long. I ran back because I wanted to help - not because I wanted his thanks for helping. I guess ingratitude is better than living with myself after hearing a call for help and not responding.

Many things...

2/19/09 Peter Stilson - Keys to running an internet business
Peter Stilson of Godengo spoke to our class and gave us some very sound advice:
1. Learn to read and manage a P&L.
2. Your most important asset is your people.
3. Know your customers personally.
4. Stay close to the sales organization.
5. Leverage technology if it's worth it - ROI.
6. Get comfortable talking with all levels within an organization.

These are great lessons that I now carry around with me in my notebook.

Porter

Our discussion today made me think about my job prior to coming back to school.  I worked for a retail services company that did anything from new store roll-outs to sourcing non-resale products.  I worked in the sourcing division, finding suitable suppliers for our clients' RFQs.  The suppliers would download the RFQ documents from our site and eventually submit bids and participate in "online negotiations" (less contentious term for reverse auctions).  I didn't know much about purchasing before I started, but I learned quickly that suppliers were not fans of the new online bidding process.  Our clients loved it - they were able to easily distribute RFQs and collect bids from several suppliers at once.  The suppliers had to figure out how low they could reasonably bid, and though most hated it, some said it helped them to improve their understanding of the true cost of their products, and it gave them insight into competitive pricing - even if they did not know who they were competing against. During those two years, I learned more about hangers, fixtures, signs, cardboard boxes, gift boxes, plastic bags, fork lifts, and janitorial supplies than I ever thought was necessary.  But I mostly learned about the contentious relationship between buyer and supplier and how the online bidding process had severely strained the relationship.

This is one situation where intimacy gave way to efficiency.  It was a great way for our clients to distribute RFQs; answer suppliers' questions in a forum, so they only had to answer once; collect bids and specs; and store all of the information, so they could use it again the following year when the contract was up.  The suppliers were not allowed to contact the client directly - they had to go through us.  Again, this is a very efficient way to handle the bid process, but it takes the intimacy out of the relationship.  I would be curious to find out about the long term effects this has had on the buying company.  Do the suppliers work as hard to please if they know they'll be easily dropped the following year by the next low-price provider?  

Technology for the sake of technology

Cole Orndorff of Mortenson Construction stated that, "we do not implement technology for the sake of technology." This brought to mind my technology marketing course where we were looking at PDAs and how they failed. The main reason we discussed was that they were no faster than paper and pencil planners. The person with the paper planner would pull out the planner, flip to a particular date, and determine their availability within seconds. With the PDA, on the other hand, they had to turn it on, get the little stylus out, flip to the calendar, and pray that the battery didn't die. Once RIM came out with the PDA that could also sync with email, the competition was toast. The second reason is that the advent of the smart phone came so quickly on its heels that people did not want to carry both a phone and a PDA - they wanted it all in one. Eventually, people got tired of carrying both the phone and the iPod, and Apple created the iPhone. What's next? Is there any more functionality that "smart phones" could employ to get ahead and be the next big toy? To figure this out, I looked at what is in my bag:
1. My laptop and loose-leaf notebook: One thing that would make them better is the capability to create and modify MS Office documents like power point, word, and excel, reducing the need for a laptop in addition to the smart phone. A tablet function could replace the notebook paper, but it would need to be a large screen to make it work well. I've still got my notebook in the bag.

2. My wallet: It could replace the wallet - driver's license, credit card, insurance card, and Border's Rewards cards could all be sent to and used through the phone. In the case of being pulled over, you would show the officer your phone, displaying your driver's license and insurance card. Technology already exists to use the phone for payment at a check-out counter (we just don't have it here). My bag is now less a wallet.

3. Sudoku on the go: There are already downloadable games, and Sudoku is definitely one of them.

4. Moleskine notebook: Sure, a smart phone can replace the notebook - but leather just looks, feels, and smells so damn good! I think I will retain my notebook.

5. Keys: It could happen - keys could be replaced by the phone, like a card-reader. This is when I start to get nervous, though. With my driver's license (including address), credit card information, and now house keys, if anyone got a hold of my phone, my life would be in their hands. I guess security would need to be enhanced - how fitting that this hit me when I saw my keys, the ultimate symbol of security.

6. Lip balm, hand lotion, chewing gum, Fruit Roll-Up, stocking cap, water bottle: These things cannot be replaced by a smart phone - no phone will ever be able to moisturize my lips and hands, freshen my breath, satisfy a snack urge or thirst, or keep me warm. BUT I can always buy more with my fancy phone!

About my comments in class...

Yes, currently being "green" can be competitive advantage for companies.  Not only is society demanding it, but there are now tax benefits for it, and as Doug pointed out in class, there are cost benefits and efficiencies that can be gained by it.  HOWEVER, we were talking about future companies, and my point was that in the future, it should not and will not be rewarded.  It will be expected.  That's all I'm sayin'. 

I thought it was interesting that so many groups came to the consensus that being specialized would be a characteristic of future companies.  I'm still not exactly clear what that means since so many of my strategy courses have focused on not narrowly defining the company's purpose or mission.  Aks told us to be mindful of the future and how our company's industries could develop.  For example, train companies narrowly defined their purpose as being rail companies instead of transport companies and languished.  Or oil companies being mired in being oil companies and not energy companies.   I suppose "specialized" does not mean "specific."  However, in the ever changing environment that we currently live, it seems to a company's advantage to be able to change quickly and be flexible with the products and services they offer.  I would imagine that in the future, these industry changes would happen even quicker than they do now, and a key characteristic would not be to be specialized but to be flexible and adaptable to the changing environment and their clients' needs.

Technology

Ah, technology. There are so many inventions and innovations every day. I have such a love-hate relationship with technology, but I am always excited by the "new" and "improved." I resisted getting a cell phone longer than most of my peers, but I had an active email account very early. I resisted joining social networking sites, and now I am on both myspace (though mostly dormant) and facebook. My favorite recent innovation is using the iChat and simultaneously battling Matt's brother and sister in Los Angeles and Denver, respectively, on Mario Kart. We can see and hear each other as we play video games on the Wii against each other, hundreds of miles away. I know this is nothing new, but it's new to me, and it's been a great way to stay in touch and have fun with Matt's siblings.

On the other hand, I received a hand written letter yesterday, and it was the coolest thing I've gotten in a long time. My friend, Tara, who has not joined the electronic community (email is painful, and I don't think she's updated her myspace account since she opened it back in 2006), got married last summer, and she sent me a picture of Matt and I dancing at her reception. Usually, when I receive pictures, it's a jpg that never gets developed and will typically sit in my inbox until I finally save it to my computer. I was touched to receive not only a hand written letter but a developed (looks like it came from someone's darkroom) black and white photo. It's not in my inbox or saved to my desktop - it's already on my wall.

In addition to blogging today, I think I'll write someone a letter.