Saturday, May 31, 2008

PR Idea of the Week

Customer service. What a concept. This week I saw the best and worst of both. And I'm not afraid to name names.

First, let me take my hat off to all those who toil in consumer PR and work for B2C companies. Consumers are, for the most part, very dumb. Otherwise, why would companies need to protect us from ourselves. I once owned a sun shade for my car, the kind that covers the windshield, that said: Do not use while vehicle is in operation. OK.

But back to my recent experiences. I use Verizon DSL for my Internet service. It's about the only thing we can get out here in the country. So a few weeks ago the DSL stops working consistently. The little light is blinking sporadically and a horrible fuzz takes over the phone line. So I called the 800 number. They made me check all my lines, download software, get a new modem, and on and on. Until I said the magic word: cancel. Then suddenly and mysteriously I was connected to a wonderful man named David who was actually named David by his mother, not Abu.
Anyway, David said he knew right away that the problem was: it was in the switching station. The low pass filter had a problem and I had a mis-wire issue. I have no idea what any of that means.

I asked David how I could reach him directly in the future and skip Abu and his cousins who were reading a script that dictated the problem is always due to the stupid consumer. He said in a very conspiratorial way: Whatever you did to reach me today, do again in the future. I said, you mean say "cancel?" Like a movie guru who refuses to give straight answers, he said: Whatever you did to reach me today, do so again in the future, grasshopper.

So, a little tip to Verizon customers. Only those who are frustrated to the brink of tears. Only those who have wasted HOURS of their lives on the phone with people who blame you, the idiot consumer, for their service problems. Only those who are fed up and say, cancel, get the good customer service. Just a tip.

P.S. Damn, those people are good. I had this posted for seconds before the lights on my modem turned blood red. If you never hear from me again, please call Verizon, ask for David.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Takin' Care of Business

Next week I'm heading out west to a trade show. We're expecting 30,000 people from around the world to attend.

In past years the organization I'm affiliated with has been recognized as bringing the leading product to this event--and put on the cover of our top trade magazine for our record-breaking revenues.

Last summer our results from this show generated a front-page story in the local newspaper and a spot on the morning show of the local ABC affiliate.

And how does an organization succeed at this huge show? Success comes from an excellent breeding program with attention to developing foundation females. huh

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the trade show we're heading to next week is for my husband's employer, our farm. We're going to the World Pork Expo in Des Moines, Iowa.

I promise to share photos and updates from Iowa.


Monday, May 26, 2008

Confessions of a Former Lactator

What new mother doesn't want the VERY best for her child? And what parents in their right minds would choose an expensive, time-consuming, high-maintenance sub-par product to feed their newborn?

And yet every day women make the personal choice not to breastfeed their babies. I'm no granola lady, but it just made sense that the high-quality, right-amount, right-temperature, low maintenance liquid I was carrying around in my chest for free was preferable to some expensive can in the grocery.

I'm not going to say that my children never had a drop of formula. I had a great friend who could have nursed triplets who could get a full day supply of milk for her baby in one pumping session. But I did get to the point where the babies needed supplementing when I wasn't around.

I'm going to get off the soap box now, because what I really want to share is the story of the police officer in China who was rescuing babies during the earthquake. A lactating mother herself, she voluntarily began nursing the hungry orphans found among earthquake survivors.

And her local officials did not snicker, "someone just said breast, oh, no." They celebrated her as China's number one mother.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

PR Idea of the Week

I'm a member of the local chapter of PRSA and I'm constantly amazed at the great people they bring into town to speak to us, nationally recognized people like Ann Wylie and, quite memorably, Peter Shankman.

Ann Wylie is a post unto herself--and since I didn't do one last week, consider this my post: Don't call yourself a writer unless you've been to an Ann Wylie workshop. There.

OK, back to Shankman. We have nothing in common. He is a cat-loving, single New Yorker who runs marathons and jumps out of airplanes for fun. I am a farmer's wife from Ohio who vacations at the State Fair and couldn't run the gravel lane from my farmhouse to the road. Also, I hate, HATE cats.

But I find myself among his many followers. We both appreciate a targeted, cleverly worded media pitch. We both feel the thrill from connecting a client with a journalist and getting that perfect clip.

We both love a good stunt. Granted, he has actually done the crazy things he thinks up.

Peter has quite brilliantly build himself a phenomenal network of potential clients, PR experts and journalists who all appreciate his Help a Reporter Out service. I highly recommend to PR people that they subscribe, not only for Peter's exciting PR updates but also for all the great leads from top media outlets.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

What Farm Kids Do for Fun

My children are part-time suburbanites. They get to ride their little bikes on the sidewalk and jump on the trampoline with neighborhood kids who stop by. Thanks to their Friendly Suburban-Dwelling Babysitter, they enjoy the best of life on the cul-de-sac, from the time they arrive at the bus stop, to the time I drag them out of the sandbox in the evening.

But on weekends, and long summer evenings, they revert back to country kids. Where the most exciting thing happening is when our neighbor "Horn," as the kids have dubbed him, brings his tractor over to work in our field. Or maybe if they're real lucky a family with kids will be coming by to pick up some pigs, leaving them to stare in awkward silence while the men load pigs, becoming fast friends seconds before it is time to load back in the truck.

So kids in the country learn to make their own fun. And mothers in the country buy those washers advertised to handle 16 pairs of jeans at once.


Here, Morgan and Justin do the gravel driveway pothole dance, to celebrate all the money we save by never bothering to wash our cars.


Ryan entertains himself and earns extra extra cash by serving as a rubber boot tester for Tractor Supply. They passed!


My country kids and their country cousin even enjoy running around in tall grass, covered with smoke from Great-Grandma's brush pile burn.

But country families don't always stay home. Sometimes we head out on the kind of vacation only a country family could conceive. It involves a road trip, a hotel, a livestock trailer, a barn, and, if you're lucky, some ribbons. Here's Ryan on vacation in Des Moines, with his first place pig he affectionately named "Yorkshire barrow."

Sometimes I worry that my kids will enjoy their suburban days so much they won't want to return to farm life, but then the babysitter reminds me of their favorite pretend activity on rainy days--they play farm.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Swine Lecture Series - Transportation

Our swine lecture series continues with a timely installment on porcine transportation. Class, today we'll see some photos of swine hauling devices and hear a case study on swine transportation gone wrong. We'll wrap up with a heart-warming story of agri-brotherliness.

Back in the actual old days, or in the current days of farm cartoons and Charlotte's Web, hogs were transported in the bed of the farm pick-up truck, usually equipped with high wooden slats to keep the livestock from jumping out at 45 mph.

One family we knew hauled their Poland China boar (translation: black and white colored male pig) on the back of their truck in a more modern aluminium carrier known as a "popper." They seemed to forget the that the popper, which doesn't have a floor, requires a strap to keep it connected to the truck. So they left the fair and headed down the highway when the wind caught the aluminum box just right and lifted it right off the back of the truck, leaving only a VERY surprised Poland China boar in the back.

But today, hogs travel in de-luxe accommodations like aluminum trailers full of sawdust bedding. Trailers so nice our children sleep in them between trips (just kidding).

Last year, our trailer was the talk of the barn at the Ohio State Fair. Can you imagine me sharing this with my friendly suburban-dwelling co-workers?

Friendly Suburban-Dwelling Co-worker (FSDCW): How was your weekend? We had soccer, a pool party, got a new game for the Wii.

Me: Oh, we had a great time at the Ohio State Fair. Our new aluminum goose-neck was the talk of the barn. And my husband won Grand Champion Yorkshire Boar.

FSDCW: You took a boring goose to the fair? Was it allowed on the rides?

On our farm, hogs are transported from pen to pen on this cool trailer that lowers for loading and unloading, then can be raised for moving around the farm. It is also handy for corralling farm boys (kidding again!).


Sometimes people not trained in agriculture and/or devoid of common sense will attempt to transport livestock in unsuitable ways. Like the family from northern Ohio who bought a pig, and then hauled it four hours home in the back seat of their pick-up along with their children.


Or the guy we saw in Oklahoma, who loaded his newly purchased pig in the back of his rented SUV.


But farm people are always ready to lend a hand to one another, whether it's putting in the crops after pa hurts his leg... sorry, that's a Little House plot.


Anyway, farm people do help one another. Several years ago after our spring pig sale--a time when we sell small pigs to 4-H kids for them to raise and take to the fair--we got a late night call from a farmer who had found a pig at McDonald's. Yes, he went to McDonald's to get a snack, came out and saw a pig loose in the parking lot, captured it, saw our tag, tracked us down, and called us. Farm people are that nice.


Turns out, one family had come to our sale and bought a pig for their daughter. They stopped at McDonald's before their long trip home. Somehow, the little pig escaped without notice and they arrived home later that night with no pig. We were able to unite the Samaritan farmer with the pig-less 4-H girl. And all lived happily ever after--except for the pig who did NOT escape his last post-fair trailer ride.



Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Pork Industry Promotion

I'm sure my husband would donate a pig to ensure that this idea catches on.
Yes, that's bacon.
No, this is not me.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

PR Idea of the Week

When PR people get a great "clip" we keep it in a folder, or maybe even frame it up and hang it on the wall. But now we can make our favorite cnn.com headlines into t-shirts!

Why anyone would want to walk around with a shirt that reads: 6ft. silvery slide boils, fries, bakes is beyond me. Why would you buy this one? Unless this is about your Grandma, but would you really celebrate that?



I still think there could be an interesting market here for PR types. Could you imagine walking into your next PRSA meeting wearing a shirt that says [your CEO] Wows the Crowd at [your top trade show]. Or maybe for the passive-aggressive PR types, shirts that point out some of the not-so-good headlines earned by the competition: [competitive agency] Called out for Faking [big company name] Blog.

Maybe this will take off, and we'll see people wearing shirts with Bill Gates' HedCut straight from the Wall Street Journal. I bet his PR people have already been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

The Case of the Funky Chair

Earlier today we took delivery of a funky chair. Not a cool, I'm-too-hip-for-your-farmhouse conversation-starter chair. No, a I-lived-with-a-smoker-and-his-dog-and-I-stink kind of chair.

We had no idea that the chair was going to be funky. It was coming from a good source--a family member who is VERY non-funky in her furniture selection.

Apparently her olfactory senses are blinded by love, which lead her to think that we would want this stinker in our house to sit on while we watch TV.

Let me just say that there is a great deal of Matlock and Murder She Wrote watched at this house. And I bet the vast majority of the Hallmark Channel viewing audience are watching on smoky, dog-infested furniture. However, it's not for us.

The worst shame of the whole scenario is that is it a lovely chair--with matching ottoman. Purchased from the great people at Schenck Furniture, who I love more than ever after they hauled away my mother-in-law's funky fridge.

The chair smells bad. How bad? The odor of it caused my poor ESPN-loving husband to forsake satellite TV and watch the 14-inch in the kitchen. It smells so bad that the odor could not be beat back with half a bottle of Febreeze. An odor so insidious that in a matter of hours it had infected two rooms and was creeping up the stairs.

A stench so bad that just now, after my poor husband has gone to bed, I dragged the offending chair and the matching ottoman out the door and onto the back patio.

If you live within a five-mile radius and smell something funky tonight, I apologize.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

An Open Letter to a New Mom

Dear M,

The months of pregnancy are never enough time to prepare for a baby--especially your second--but I know that you are up to the challenge.

I was determined that the birth of my second son would be no less of an event than the birth of my first, however, I quickly realized that this time everything would be different. From the moment the doctor came in and sat down after only a few hours of labor, to the day they wheeled me out the door with a baby, a used car seat, a single bag and one small bouquet of flowers.

And he knew things were different too. Unlike his older brother who was very comfortable doing the first baby/first grandchild duties of being passed around without protest, my second one was clingy and needy. It didn't help that his naps were interrupted by a yelling preschooler or his private moments of nursing rudely un-suctioned so I could leap across the room to administer aid and discipline.

I know that you are a good mother, a conscientious mother, who will strive to replicate good mothering on this newest member of the family. Know that the rules are different for the next one. The next one will need more cuddling and less stimulus or maybe more eating and less sleeping.

And as they get older, you'll realize that all the great parenting you've done to get the first one to love veggies or sleep through the night was just a fluke. The second one will prove that you just got lucky (or unlucky) with the first one.

Be prepared to mount expeditions in your own home. Every trip up and down the stairs involves marshaling the older one and convincing him to go upstairs, yes, upstairs, no, you can't take that toy, just go upstairs, upstairs. Then, picking up the baby, then realizing the baby is wet, then changing the baby, then realizing it's almost time to nurse the baby again. Then starting over with your toddler, yes, upstairs, no, this way, no, UP-STAIRS, yes, OK, just let me get your brother... oh, no.

And this is assuming you just want to walk upstairs. You need an advanced degree in motherhood to travel upstairs with a baby, a toddler and something in your hands.

And after a few weeks home with your little bundle and his older brother, you may get the insane urge to leave your house. Don't do it. If you think traveling around inside the house is difficult, just wait until you brave the outside world--especially when you are outnumbered.

You will find yourself doing things you never thought possible--like cringing while your toddler crouches down behind the toilet to investigate something while you nurse his brother in the handicap stall of the Target restroom. Or abandoning your grocery cart in the parking lot, when you realize the logistical quandary of either putting the cart away and carrying the baby and toddler or leaving the children in the car while you put the cart away.

But life will beckon and you'll venture out and develop a system to keep it all together.

And you'll find that this little guy is yours. The older one will be claimed by your husband. Funny how men tend to gravitate away from beings that require midnight feedings and generate explosive diapers.

And you and your hubby can make managing your child a fun little game. "I got my son to bed already," he'll say. "What's that smell? Oh, it's your kid this time," you can gloat.

So my final advice to you--remember, I'm the one who knew about removing booties before the diaper--is to enjoy the wonderment of a new baby, comfortable in the thought that you've successfully raised this species before. And buy two of everything, because it really is a pain to go up and down the stairs.

Your Friend,

Holly

Photo: My first one takes over care and feeding of the second one. See, I trained him well.

Appointment Pooping

  NOTE: If you do not want to read about my healthy bowel movement, well too late you just did. I recently became you-better-get-a-colonosco...