Friday the 13th - February 2015

      Friday the 13th of February. It was a day of lovely highs sandwiched between the parts of life we are not so fond of experiencing.  It reminded me of another such day thirteen years ago.  

     I knew it was Friday the 13th but I had not even given the superstitious interpretation of the day a thought. It was to be a busy day leading into a busy weekend there was no time for superstition. It was to be a full day.

• 8 - 9:30 am: Emcee a networking breakfast at the Greater Waukegan Develop Council (GWDC)
  My friend Dave Roberts and Marian Hoskins were to speak about a sailing event, Scoop the Lake, that started a few years ago with the expressed mission to bring the boating community and City of Waukegan closer together.
• 9:30 - 12:30: Meeting of the Axelson Center for Nonprofit Management Excellent Emerging Organization Judging committee
• 1 - 3:30: Teach Operations Management and Microeconomics courses
• 3:30 - 4:30 Office Hours
• 6 - 11: Perform at the All Saints Armenian Churuch Poon Pari Genton (Mardi Gras) Party.

     This was to be a prelude to a weekend with my son, daughter in-law,and 7 month old grandson visiting from Washington DC. Amid all this other activity this is what I was looking forward to. 

     The day started our kind of scary. Just before they were to serve breakfast at the GWDC event. Dave Roberts had some kind of seizure. It was quite scary.  Minutes before we were chatting and jaoking with each other. He was unconscious and it looked like a heart attack. Immediately 911 was called and Linda Keith, another attendee with some EMT skills, jumped in and took over the immediate care. By the time the real EMT arrived Dave was conscious and talking. They put him on a gurney and took him to the hospital. On his way out the door, he was joking that he could not leave as he had to give his presentation. We were all feeling good about his prospects and continued on with our meeting.  Marian did a wonderful job.

       After the presentation, I hit the road for North Park University.  The Axelson meeting and my classes went well and as expected.  When my last class ended at 3:30, I went to my office and organized a few things for the next day.  About 4:30, when I was sure the traffic had intensified, I left to get to All Saints Armenian Church in Glenview for the Poon Pari Gentan.

      It turned out to be a wonderful event. In recent years, our church has a adopted a very tradition for Poon Pari Gentan. The various church groups each cooked old time Armenian meals. There were kebabs, meatballs in yogurt soup, lamb stew, and fish and pilaf. One was better than the other. It costs $5 at the door and each of the dinners cost $5.  Many had more than one dinner.

     As they had old time Armenian food, the committee asked us to play some old time Armenian music. Jim Hardy was in charge of the band and assembled a unique group. He played clarinet, I was on oud and vocals, and Shahan Alexanian was our keyboardist. Jim had a great idea to ask 18 year old Alek Surenian to play the dumbeg. It was a brilliant idea on two counts. First, we have heard Alek play a bit. He shows a lot of promise. He loves the music and was way cool that we offered him his first official gig. It felt great to support and nurture the next generation of musicians. Secondly, Alek is well known and well liked in the church community. People would come out just to see his debut. It did not hurt that his mother is an Alexanian, first cousin to Shahan, and that, seemingly, every other person in the community is either an Alexanian or related to one.  The event was well attended by family and fans of Alek as we were.

     It was to Alek’s debut. It was his night and his gig. We were delighted to be part of it. 

     It ended up being a lovely evening. As the foods were from all different regions of historical Armenia, we played a variety of folk songs from the same regions. It was not a real dancing crowd but they stayed and listened. It was really really nice. I left the church feeling pretty good about things.  I left the church feeling on top of the world. The band was great, the food even better, and everyone in attendance enjoyed the evening. I like that feeling. It is a mixture of happiness, contentment, feeling quite Armenian, and something else, that je ne sais quoi, there might not even be a word for. 

     By the time I got home it was about 12:30 am. I want to check on Dave’s status which was to be updated on the GWDC Facebook page. I learned that Dave had a brain aneurysm and was air evacuated down to the University of Chicago where he had surgery. (As of this writing, two weeks after the fact, he discharged from the hospital.  On Saturday the 28th, his wife posted photos of the two of them out for dinner.  What great news.) 

            Since I had my phone out, I decided to check my email before turning in for the night.  When I was checking my North Park mail, there was an email from the Dean of the School of Business and Nonprofit Management with the ominous title:  very sad news.  I hate to open emails with such subjects... but I did.  I learned that, Crendalyn McMath Fitzgerald, my colleague and fellow professor in the School of Business and Nonprofit Management had suddenly passed away earlier that day.  Click here for the North Park announcement of Cren's passing.

     I just sat there.  I read the email again.  I was in disbelief.  I was stunned.  The shock began to slowly subside only to be replaced with grief.

     This all reminded me of another day:  Sunday, September 29, 2002.  I will never forget that day.  I was living in Connecticut at the time and had played at a church in New Jersey that day.  It was a spectacular, perfect, kind of early fall day.  The sky clear and blue.  The weather was perfect.  The food was delicious and the people were all in a great mood.  We had a great time playing the music we loved.  We felt like we were on fire and as group played above our individual capabilities.  

      On the way home, crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge, I recall thinking "This was a pretty perfect day."  I am not sure what made me think that except that
it was that same "mixture of happiness, contentment, feeling quite Armenian, and something else, that je ne sais quoi, there might not even be a word for."  But it was not only this feeling that will link these two days.  

     When I got home that lovely September Sunday in 2002, I sat down and was basking in what I thought was a perfect day.  Then the phone rang.  It was my mother.  She said they were at the hospital.  I assumed it was my grandmother who was  97 at the time.  Nope.  It was my sister Laura Ani.  She had been diagnosed with a brain aneurysm.  They were to do a procedure the next morning.  

     The procedure did not work.  Laura passed away in the early hours of October 1, 2002.

      When one is at the North Pole, any step front, back, left, or right is south.  When you think a day or a portion of it is perfect, the next moment or next day has to be something not so perfect.  Sunday September 29, 2002 was quite perfect.  The step south?  It was surreal and a deep dive into grief and loss.  The opposites were extreme.  The contrast taught me, out of some kind of superstition, to never really feel any day or moment as perfect.  Because of this experience, I tempered my feelings of the very nice night on Friday, February 13.  I even thought NOT to use the word perfect on my basking riding home.  I get home to news of an aneurysm and a passing of someone I knew.  It was not the same and yet there were similarities that might be called eerie.  

      There is probably nothing to change or manage.  The highs come with the lows.  There is no way to predict when.  There is no way to predict how high or how low.  Sometimes they come at extremes on the same day.  Thankfully, those are rare occurrences.

Radio Shack Bankruptcy

The Radio Shack location near
North Park University

     On February 5th, Radio Shack filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection.  The company and brand have been struggling for years for a variety of reasons. 
     I am sorry to see them go. I am part of the reason they are going under. I used to be a customer.  I was never a great customer but I was a more frequent customer than I have been this century.  I would go there to by cords or wires for playing music.  Back in the day, music stores did not carry everything.  As I played the oud, the pickups we used to use did not always have the standard guitar quarter inch jack system.  Thus, there was a need to by adapters and odd cords.  Where did you go for such things?  Radio Shack of course.  Even our amplifies had small fuses in them.  Radio Shack carried those too.  They pretty much had anything I needed in terms of wiring up any instruments to amps and any kind of "patch" cord I might need for my various vintages of home stereos.  
     How often did I go?  A few times a year.  No matter where I was, there was always a Radio Shack near by.  Often this came in handy as we would be setting up for a gig and we would need to seek out a Radio Shack to buy a particular doohickey or thingamabob.  This century I went to a Radio Shack three times.  I made an emergency run to buy a patch cord to play an iPod through a sound system at my cousin's daughters wedding.  I bought a remote headphone set.  The last time I went was to buy a USB microphone to better record youtube lecture videos. 
     These days, I rarely go.  The cords have all been standardized and almost everything I need can be found at music stores.  Or... they can be bought online.  For most odd things, Amazon has it.  Oh that USB microphone?  Radio Shack didn't have it, so I bought it online.
     So, I am sorry to see them go.  But, this is nostalgia.  People feel a nostalgic loss when a store that was important to them goes out of business.  People in Detroit still lament the loss of J. L. Hudson's especially the downtown store.  Folks in Chicago do the same with Marshall Fields.  In New York, it is B. Altman's.  There will be many that will miss Radio Shack.  There is one thing in common about all these examples.  When we talk about them and how we are sorry to see them go, we always relate our experiences in the past tense.  I used to go.  I remember when, as a kid, we used to go there and...
     Stores close for many reasons.  It could be bad management.  It could be changes in the market place that renders a place or product useless.  In all cases, something happened to cause people to stop frequenting the business.  It is not necessarily abrupt but the erosion is relentless and deadly.  When it finally comes, we feel bad and move on.  I imagine I will write about Sears in the same way one day.  Actually, I cannot believe they are still operating.
     Of the many reasons Radio Shack going away, we have to first consider their name:  Radio Shack.  Both words are anachronistic i.e. words, as Merriam-Wester.com says, that are "chronologically out of place".  Radio?  Shack?  Both words alone speak of things that don't fit in the America of today.
     We only have radios in our cars these days.  I cannot remember the last I even thought about listening to the radio anyplace but in the car.  If I wanted to listen to a radio in my house, I would have to stream the station via the internet because I am not sure there is even a radio in the house.  Sure, satellite radio is really popular.  Most who use satellite radios have them in their cars, a few buy devices that they can carry around with them but I doubt they bought them at Radio Shack.
     Radio Shack started to support ham radio enthusiasts.  Please would build or buy these ham systems and communicate with others around the world in Morse Code or voice.  Yes, Morse Code.  Ham radio was the Facebook and chatroom of yore.  Radio Shack helped the ham operators keep their sets running because they were tube based and tubes wore out all the time.  They were there to assist ham operators upgrade their systems from antennas to Morse code keys. Today, we have cell phones that allow us to text and Skype people anywhere in the world.  There is no need for radios.  They are a thing of the past too.
     How about the word shack?  What are we sharecroppers?  Who wants to go to any kind of shack.  A radio shack is probably what the Army called them in WWII.  It was good then, but not evoking quality and high tech electronics these days.  OK, the word shack still works for restaurants.  Think about going to a rib shack.  There was a well publicized IPO this year of a fast food burger restaurant called Shake Shack.  
      An Op Ed piece in the February 8, 2015 Wall Street Journal, Radio Shack Suffered as Time Evaporated:  

In 1963, the year his company bought a nine-store chain then known by the two-word name Radio Shack, Charles D. Tandy explained to the New York Times why it made perfect sense for a retailer of do-it-yourself leather handicrafts to buy an electronics distributor. 

“Leisure time is opening markets to us,” he told the Times. “The shorter workweek, human curiosity, idle hands—all offer opportunities in this business. Everyone’s spare time is our challenge.”

     Maybe the demise of leisure time is partly to blame here.  This will have to be the subject of another blog. 

 

Parking Dibs

     Every city has its customs and quirks. These might include cuisine, music, or pastimes. Chicago is certainly no different. We have Chicago deep dish pizza, Chicago Blues, and Chicago 16 inch softball. One of the more unique customs in this city happens at this time of year after significant snow falls. It is called Parking Dibs and it is a phenomena that happens in the city proper, mostly on side streets.
     With the proliferation of autos, with most households having one or two, parking is not always easy to find on city streets. Certainly other cities have this issue; certainly New York and Boston in my experience. When is snows it gets worse. The city of Chicago is slow or plain old remiss when it comes to plowing the side streets. With cars parked on both sides, the one way streets get narrower with the snow. The big city plows cannot even get down these streets with all the cars parked there. So, the roads remain icy, snowy, slushy, and, hence, not easy to navigate. If a smaller private plow comes down the street, there is nowhere to put the snow except to bury the parked cars even more. It can be quite a mess.
     So, Joe Average Citizen comes out of his house the morning after a big snow and, whether his work is closed or open, he has to dig out his car. Depending on the amount of snow, this can be a sizable job to clean off the car and remove the snow all around it so it can maneuver out of the tight parallel parking. It can take twenty, thirty, or up to forty-five minutes to clear the spot. When the job is done there is a great sense of satisfaction and ownership for the parking spot just cleared. Yes, ownership. Many people think that, even though it is an open and public parking space, they have some ownership and feel some entitlement to that spot. Think of it as the parking spot equivalent of squatting or homesteading wrapped together.
     Yet, when one drives away from “their” just cleared parking spot, no one else knows or cares who cleared it let alone know that the person who cleared it feels like they own that spot. A passing neighbor or visitor is just happy to find a parking spot and even happier that is it clean; so they would, naturally, take it.
     The Chicago solution for this is called Parking Dibs. The guy that cleaned and cleared the spot puts something there to hold the spot while they are gone. What do they put there? Any household thing that is big enough to put their to indicate the squatters right to the spot. People use lawn chairs from resin to aluminum, old ironing boards, small stools, garbage cans, small tables, and almost anything that is handy. Some people even have invested in parking cones for this purpose. So, after a big snow like today, when you drive around the city you see lots of Dibs Parking with a wide array of household junk holding the spot.
      Of course, it is completely illegal to do this. But, the police don’t bother trying to enforce things. Maybe they think that it is a reasonably self-managed and benign thing. But more so, I am guessing that they don’t bother enforcing the law because they do not know who to ticket. Without a revenue stream involved, the city lets this one go.
      For the most part, there is an honor system involved which makes this Parking Dibs system work. People generally do not disturb the makeshift barriers. They probably just shrug it off and move one. When parking is really tight and the driver is really frustrated, he or she may move the barriers while quoting how they believe the law reads and take the parking spot. Most of the time the homestead owner of the spot curses the new squatter and moves on. But, there are cases of keyed cars, broken windows, and certainly shouting matches.
      This morning there was a great spot right in front of the house on N. Spaulding that is the offices for the School of Business and Nonprofit Management. Could I be that lucky? Nope. In the photo you can see the resin chairs reserving the spot for whoever cleaned the place. Across the street you can see a couple cars that need to be dug out.
      What did I do? It was a primo parking space, but I shrugged it off and moved to a school parking lot… and decided to blog about it.

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Here are some other articles with other photos on the subject:

1. First The Snow, Now The Crazy Battle Over ‘Dibs’.  This link features a great photo of someone using a stop sign, post and all, that, I am guessing a plow dislodged, to hold their parking spot.  Thanks to Carol Koloian for this one.
2. Dibs on parking spaces after snow is the Chicago Way. This Chicago Tribune article features a photo of someone using an ironing board to hoard a spot.

For the Love of a Good Winter Blast

      We spent the last  twelve days in Southern California welcoming our Grandson Vaughn Alexan to our family.  When we left Chicago, our house was in full Christmas bloom with trees, lights both inside and out, wreaths, candles, and assorted what they call table top accessories.  All that was missing was the snow and cold.  When we got to Pasadena it was in the 50s.  It was warmer than it was in Chicago for sure but apparently cold for Californians.  Some of them were dressed in winter coats, scarves, and gloves.  It was kind of funny.  
     The past few days, it had warmed up there.  It was quite pleasant in the 70s and even low 80s.  I even wore shorts one day.  It was nice.  At the same time, there were news and facebook posts, OK mainly facebook reports, of a snowy cold blast hitting Chicago.  It was so cold that the schools were all closed Thursday and Friday of last week.  People from Illinois, Michigan, and Massachusetts were posting and texting about how cold it was and wondering why they were living where they were living.  Folks in California were telling me how lucky I was to be there and not home. 
     Actually, they are all wrong about my being glad to be away from the cold and snow.  I like the seasons.  Fall is by far my favorite.  The shocker is that I like winter too.  The winter that I like is exactly the kind I was missing:  a polar vortex, cold bast, frigid snowy, single digit temperatures, and wind chills in the negative teens. I missed that at Christmas as it was a bit too warm and there was zero snow.  It just didn't feel right.  When I express my love for the cold and snow, people, especially in California, question this saying "But it is so cold."  Yes it is and that is exactly the point.  It is good to bundle up in wools or corduroys, big fat sweaters, fleece liners, parkas, boots, gloves, and stocking hats.  It is good to walk in the cold.  It is good to pop the car in the 4WD (yes my 4Runner is that old) and drive in the new fallen snow.  I like winter.  I have even written about it a few times in this blog:

1. This first part of a 2009 piece It All Began with an Air Bath.
2. My January 2005 letter, Winter Survival ,about my Boy Scout days.

I guess it is just a matter of getting used to it. 
     When we landed at O'Hare, it felt great to step outside, breath in some cold air, and blow out a vapory exhale.  When we got home, I got out of the car, and having the wrong shoes on, almost fell on my ego.  From the photo I took out the front door this evening upon getting home, it is clear that this is exactly the kind of winter weather I am talking about.  
     Looking forward to bundling up and heading out in the morning for the first day of classes in the Spring term.

18 Minutes? 4 Seconds? Just Do It!

http://searchengineland.com/

     I saw an email earlier today. It was an announcement for a webinar from ExecuNet that had a phenomenal promise: 4 Seconds — All the Time You Need to Stop Counterproductive Habits and Get the Results You Want with Peter Bregman. It is to take place on Wednesday, January 07, 2015, 1:00-2:00 PM ET or as I am in Los Angeles, 10 - 11 am PT. Wow... 4 seconds. What could a curmudgeonly, prone to woe is me, fellow like me possible do in 4 seconds to "stop counterproductive habits and get the results" I want?

     How could I not sign up for this? 'Tis the season for resolution making after all.

     All I can think of is that Peter Bregman will be revealing some very special magic words, incantations that were revealed to him through some revelation, or perhaps he translated some hieroglyphic no one else has been able to decipher.  Maybe I would learn to babble in tongues for a mere 4 seconds and voila be transformed!

     4 seconds! Sounds incredible.

     Of course, I googled Peter Bregman. I should have already known about him. He is well educated with BA from Princeton and an MBA from Columbia. He runs an eponymic consulting firm, Bregman Partners, which specializes in advising CEOs. The webinar title is the same as his new book being released in February of 2015.  4 Seconds is his not his first book on time and time management. The first was published in 2012: 18 Minutes: Find Your Focus, Master Distraction, and Get the Right Things Done.

     Now mind you, I have read neither book and lord knows I could use every tip, trick, and lifestyle mindset perception, you name it, to help me find my focus, stop becoming the master of being distracted, and most certainly improve my ability to get the right things done, done well, under budget, and ahead of schedule. Given this long winded caveat, I am not afraid to jump into what the esteemed Mr. Bregman has written dedicated 560 pages to... without the benefit of having read anymore than the title of his two books.

Sidebar:  People buy self-help books with increasing frequency.   There is a clear need for helping people lead more healthy, productive, and loving lives.  Oddly, the percentage of folks who actually help themselves is probably constant.  These books have really excellent engaging and attractive titles.  We read these titles and taglines and think that forking over $30 for a book that will enable such great things is a mere pittance.  Too often the results are less than we crave.  Very often the messages in all of these books are the same (did someone say isomorphic?) and are simply repackaged and marketing in a different way.  

     Why 18 minutes and not, say, 20 or even 15 which is a natural increment our smart phone calendars easily deal with? If a non-standard number of minutes were to be chosen, I would have opted for 17 as I believe there is magic in them there prime numbers. OK, let's go with 18 minutes. Taking 18 minutes at the end of one day or the beginning of the next to establish ones focus and priorities for the next day is time well spent.  Every productivity self-help book will offer some version of this as a good thing to make habitual. If one is really busy with complicated tasks in a job laden with random events that require one's attention, maybe another 18 minutes can be allocated for regrouping at midday or mid-afternoon.
     Maybe 18 minutes can also be the amount of time allocated for distractions. Call your mom. Do a crossword. Check Facebook (though be forewarned, 18 minutes is like 1 second in the land of Facebook). Do whatever you want whenever, just don't used more than 18 minutes. In a ten hour work day, that is like 1.8 minutes per hour! Live it up. Enjoy.
     Let's look at the math here. The 18 minutes in the title of his first book is 1,080 seconds. The second book, and I remind you that I have read neither, is, kinda sorta, offering the same thing but in only 4 seconds. Wowsers. Talk about progress! Why read the first book when the second gets you in the same place in 96.73% less time! The Nobel folks need to consider this accomplishment.
     What can one do in 4 seconds? Here is a list of encouragements and admonishments that probably each take a second or less to say.

• Just Do It! (the Nike classic) 
• Snap out of it! (the Cher classic from the movie Moonstruck)
• Hunker down!
• Stop complaining!
• I think I can. (the childhood classic from The Little Engine that Could)
• Keep calm and carry on.
• No pain, no gain.
• You can do it! (from the movie Waterboy)
• Put down that twinkie!
• Don't stop believin'... (having Journeyed myself from the fictitious South Detroit)

     Add any number of others you can think of. Create your own list.  Have fun with it.
     Given your list, slap four them together as you see fit depending on your own needs. Record them and play them back on your smart phone, pad, or computer whenever you need that a 4 second jolt of focus and motivation. Record several. Record one in our own voice. Have your mother or wife record one. Have your surliest boss do a set... if you can talk him or her into it. Pay James Earl Jones to record a Darth Vader version. 
     Heck, if you can get the right phrase, you may need only 1 second.
     Ah, if it were only that easy.

Vaughn Alexan

     What a great time. What an auspicious time. We are delighted to welcome our second grandchild and second grandson to this world:  Vaughn Alexan Kapamajian  Weighing in at 8 pounds and 11 ounces and 21 inches long, Vaughn Alexan was the biggest baby born on the Gavoor side of the clan that anyone can recall.  His numbers are middle of the road for the Kapamajians. 

     Judy and I are fortunate enough to be able to be in California to enjoy both this special time of the year and a special time for our family. We celebrated New Years with our Los Angeles family, we went to the Tournament of Roses Parade, and I finally made it to the Rose Bowl. Then, after the holiday festivities were winding down, Vaughn Alexan commanded our focus.

     Vaughn Alexan's parents, Armene and Michael are delighted, excited, and exhausted first parents. There is no need to get into the details of delivery suffice it to say that mother and son are both doing very well. There is a collective expression of joy and welcoming warmth the Vaughn Alexan and his parents. In the age of social media and smart phones, everyone that wanted or needed to be was kept in the text loop through the night and wee hours of the morning. It made it all more exciting with the village all involved in Vaughn Alexan's arrival. 

     Vaughn Alexan's birthday is amid a very busy festive season. First he shares his birthday with his great-aunt Nancy Gavoor. Nancy could not be more delighted. I am sure their bond just a bit more special because of it. A normally festive time has just gotten even more festive for our family. Beginning with the Winter Solstice, December 21, we celebrate the birthday of our daughter in-law Anoush. Of course, on the 24th and 25th of December we celebrate Christmas followed shortly by Michael's brother Andrew's birthday on the 28th. The 31st is Armene's birthday and New Year's Eve. Of course, January 1 is New Year's Day, the Tournament of Roses Parade for the Pasadena part of the family and all the bowl games. With one day off, we move right to Nancy and Vaughn's birthday followed on January 4 with Michael's mother Ana's birthday. The finish off this season of festivities, we have Armenian Christmas Eve and Christmas on January 5th and 6th. What a wonderful season this has evolved into for us.

     When a chid is born, the possibilities, hopes, and aspirations of the parents, grandparents, and family are limitless. All things considered, we wish a long, happy, and healthy life to our new bundles of joy. These three factors are perhaps the best definition of success there is. Beyond this, given the birth of our first two grandchildren, both grandsons, in a seven month span, we wish that the two cousins, Aris Gabriel and Vaughn Alexan, are as close to each other as they are in age. Cousins are a blessing too often underplayed and undervalued.

     Welcome Vaughn Alexan!

A Most Cool Day in Pasadena

Armene and Judy

      We find ourselves in Pasadena, California. While the weather is cool here by Pasadena standards, it is a cool day in that I experience a wonderful convergence of many aspects of my life. Being the last day of the year, it is fitting to be thinking of and being thankful for all of these things at the same time. 

     First and foremost, Judy and I spent the day with our daughter Armene. It is her birthday today. My little tax deduction was born 29 years ago today. She is also expecting her first child at any time now. So, this is an exciting time in her life and we are delighted to be here with her and her husband Michael as we wait for our grandson to be born.

     We began the day with a facetime call from our six month old grandson Aris. He and his parents called from New York. It was a great birthday call for Armene from her nephew, brother, and sister in-law. Judy, Armene, and I then went to Russell's an iconic diner in Pasadena. While waiting for our table there, I was seated outside the restaurant while Judy and Armene went to the cupcake

shop to by desert for our New Year's Eve festivities at Michael's aunt's and uncle's. 

     I was sitting there in the cool clear morning noticing the Rose Bowl Banners on the lampposts. Folks in Oregon or Florida State colors were walking by and I was excited to be in Pasadena at this time of year. From when I was old enough to aware of football, I have known about and have wanted to attend the Rose Bowl. This year, I have that chance. As Armene and Michael are Pasadena residents they were able to get four tickets in the resident lottery which is very cool. While, I always thought that my first time in the Rose Bowl would be to see Michigan play, I delighted nonetheless to attend the first ever College Championship Playoff game. I look forward to walking from Armene's apartment tomorrow to the famed stadium and watching the game with Michael, his father Manuk, and his brother Andrew. Just before the game starts, I will hear Dick Enberg's voice in my head saying, as I have heard so many years on TV, "as the sun sets behind the beautiful San Gabriel Mountains..."

     The last dimension of this wonderfully convergent day is the Armenian factor. Over my lifetime, with the Lebanese war in the 1980s and the fall of the

The Blimp take a test flight around the Rose Bowl

 

Soviet Union and tenuous start of the Armenian Republic in the early 1990s, there has been a wave of Armenian immigrants flowing into Southern California. Armenians now have a significant and noticeable presence in many of the cities including Pasadena. Every time we have ventured out to eat or walk around, we would see Armenians and hear Armenian being spoken. It is very cool. While it is very cool for us, It is so prevalent that it is just commonplace to the locals.

     What a great day for a variety of very cool reasons.

     Happy Birthday Armene.  We love you and delighted to be with you at this special time in your life.

     A most happy, healthy, and prosperous 2015 to everyone. 

Classic Cars Cruising Colorado Boulevard

Watches and The Wall Street Journal

     In reading the Wall Street Journal more regularly, I am struck by the number of watch advertisements. These are usually found on pages A2 and A3 but sometimes on other pages as well. The advertisements are not everyday. I suspect the watch companies have figured out which days the readers are most susceptible to watch advertising and plan their ads accordingly.

     Being the Wall Street Journal, we are talking about very special and very expensive watches. These watches are all for men. After all, the bastions of Wall Street that can afford the kind of watches advertised are men. They are status statement watches. They are pieces of jewelry and symbols of power and luxury. They are made of gold or stainless steel with metal, leather, and, sometimes even, rubber bands. Because of all this, and I reiterate, they are expensive. They are $5,000 and $10,000 on the low end and there is seemingly no high end limit on how much one can spend.

     In a recent paper in early December, there were five ads on these two pages for fine watches. A in the photo, the watches featured are Hublot, Oris, Breitling, Richard Mille, and Parmagiani. Of these, I was only familiar with Oris and Breitling. I have seen ads for the likes of Rolex, Cartier, Omega, Audemars Piguet, Patek Phillipe, Ulysse Nardin, TAG Heuer, and Vacheron Constantin. The vary from the simple and elegant Patek Phillipe to the dizzying array of dials and knobs that Breitling is know for. There are sporty watches that are waterproof in case only ever has to sail in a regatta or escape from a submarine. There are watches with white dials, black dials, gray dials, and see through dials where one can see the working gears of the watches underneath all the very dials. There are big bold, in your face watches, and they seem to have gotten bigger and bolder in recent years and there are the slimmer and more elegant watches.

     My preference is for the simple and elegant timepieces. There is even a watch company, new to me, named MeisterSinger that only sells watches with only one hand. The are really nice looking watches that would appeal to me if they had two hands.  I think I need an hour hand and a minute hand as a bare minimum and the only other hand I would want is a second hand.  

     I was thinking of writing this piece when lo and behold (it is after all the season for lo-ing and beholding), the WSJ printed an article on this very subject on December 26th. Until reading this article, I never gave much thought to the origin of wrist watches. Certainly, I knew that before wrist watches, men carried pocket watches that were secured by fobs and chains. I even carried one for two years during college including, duh, my sophomore year.

     It seems that wristwatches were mostly popularized by pilots. They needed to track time and could not be fumbling around for their pocket watches. From the simplest Cartier Santos (made for a pilot named Alberto Santos-Dumont in 1904) to complicated chronograph and altimeter watches, they were popularized by pilots and craved by the public who admired the flyboys. It is no doubt why “the pilots” of industry and Wall Street love big bold chronographs.

     Upon leaving the corporate world in 2008, I stopped wearing a watch simply because, for awhile, I had no real tight schedule and I was living on my laptop and cellphone both of which informed me of the time with a mere glance. In 2013, basically because I missed the fashion accessory of a watch, I got all my

watches new batteries and began wearing them. My wife bought me the case that holds my daily watches, which from L to R are, Croton, Tumi, Tissot, and a Swiss Army. The Croton and Tumi have metal bands. The Tissot and Movado have leather bands while the Swiss Army is a field watch with a canvas and leather band. There are black, white, and gray dials. Two have markings, one has numbers, one has Roman Numerals, and one is just plain faced. The Tissot and Movado watches were gifts from various Colgate events, the Croton was a gift from a friend for my 50th birthday, the Tumi and Swiss Army were purchases of my own. I do not believe any of these watches cost more than $300. 

     If I were to only to be able to wear one watch, I would choose the Swiss Army watch. I just like look and feel of a field watch.

Reading the Wall Street Journal

     With my new teaching position in the School of Business and Nonprofit Management (SBNM) at North Park University, there are a few perks, very few perks. But, I have taken advantage of a few. First, foremost, and one central to this bloggy bit, is a subscription to the Wall Street Journal (WSJ). For $199, I got a two year online and hardcopy full subscription to the revered business newspaper. The same non-academic subscription would have cost $645. It is a pretty good deal. I took advantage of it.

     I never read the WSJ regularly when I was in the corporate world. I should have but for a combination of factors. There was no time which is always a kind of lame excuse. For some reason, I liked the general news of the New York Times or USA Today which was often a freebee when I was traveling. Focused business and financial news were not as critical to my job. I did, however, read quality, logistics, and supply chain magazines for that critical to my job knowledge. Even though my personal WSJ subscription didn’t begin until November 4th, I have read every issue of the WSJ since August 25th.

     We have a SBNM subscription and the Brandel Library at North Park also has a subscription. As the Operations Management Professor, I do what operations and supply chain leaders always do… I get to work early. At least three days a week, I am the person opening the office. As a result, I bring in the WSJ. After settling in my office, I would finish my coffee by reading and perusing the paper from cover to cover. Yes, it was the old fashioned reading of a physical newspaper with all the crinkly sounds and the starting of articles on one page and midway having to flip several pages to finish them. It was old school and it felt good… mostly. Truth be told, I never liked reading part of an article on page n and having to finish it on page n+5. Not having this distraction is a tremendous advantage of the online version in my opinion. 

     While the school papers are free, I did not have online access to save and share articles. In this modern era, this is even more of a nuisance to me than I would have thought. I love to cut, paste, quote, post, and forward articles of interest. Teaching operations and micro-economics, I want to do this with students often in online discussions and to create paper topics. Reading the paper everyday created all of these opportunities. Not having access to the online content required me to have to go to our admin who managed our SBNM subscription. I would have been bothering her every day with multiple requests.

     I would have probably settled for an online only subscription but they did not have that option. I even called the WSJ to try to negotiate an online only academic price. Not surprisingly, the negotiations were to no avail. Thus, I get the hardcopy at home every morning and full online access. I am enjoying reading a newspaper on a daily basis again very much and using it for classroom and assignment purposes even more than I even thought I would. 

     I am feeling like a grownup professional.

Christmas 2014

Our Living Room Tree
Judy Gavoor is an awesome decorator

     I have been writing a Christmas letter to friends, family, and colleagues for the past several years. This little tradition began sometime early in this century. Generally being an early riser, I was up before everyone else. Usually, it was dark. I would get a cup of coffee, sit down at my laptop and write a brief Christmas greeting to valued colleagues and peers that reported to me. Over the years, as I began a daily writing routine that led to monthly e-letters and eventually my blog. 

     The letters have been short and they have been rather long. They all seemed to start the same with something akin to “It is early Christmas morning…” I would probably still use that opening except for this being noticed and incessantly thrown in my face by my friend and most favorite nuisance Ara Topouzian. As he says, “It least it proves I read your stuff.” Yes, it does. Thank you and Merry Christmas Ara and all my Armenian and musician friends.

     It is not so early in the morning and there is no snow this year. I started this letter at 8:30 which is rather late for this tradition. Usually, in the pre-dawn hours, I was the only creature stirring in the house and social media. At this late hour, texts and instant messages are coming from everywhere. I am writing this letter and responding real time here and on social media. 

     Another friend, just texted this message “Merry Christmas! Writing your morning Christmas letter?” Yes, I am Sharon… Merry Christmas. 

     We just got face-timed by Aram, Anoush, Ida, Steve, Yervant, and… our six

Aris visiting Santa for the first time
Seems quite happy about it...

month old grandson Aris! While we are not together this year, it was great. It was wonderful seeing his smiling face. He grabbed and kissed the phone. It was very special. Merry Christmas to all you!

     When we count our blessings for the year, Aris has to be at the top of the list. He was born June 26th. We were kind of hoping for June 25th since that is my birthday. It is also his grandfather Yervant’s birthday and Judy’s Dad’s, Aris’s great-grandfather’s birthday. That would have been very special. I do think Aris wanted to be close to our date but that he also wanted to assert his independence and has his very own day. His birth is still the best birthday present ever. 

     Last evening, my sister Ani sent a text. It included a photo of my Dad with her children, my niece Kara and nephews Kyle and Jacob. Dad is holding a plaque that says it all, “My favorite people call me Grandpa.” Perfect. 

     We have a pending Christmas present too. Armene and Michael are expecting a son any day now. We are headed their way next week to be there with them. 2014 is indeed a year of grandchild for us… assuming Baby K, as we are calling him, doesn’t decide to make us wait until 2015. Merry Christmas to all the Kapamajian’s in California.

     My cousins Leo and David both reached out Leo by text and David by email.

My Dad surrounded by
Kara, Kyle, and Jacob L to R

Merry Christmas Leo. Merry Christmas David. Merry Christmas to all my cousins, aunts, and uncles. 

     This Christmas morning tradition began as a simple email of Christmas cheer to my work colleagues. When I was at Colgate it made a lot of sense for a variety of reasons. My friends and colleagues were spread out all over Latin America. Even though every country and culture is different, there is a sameness to Latins and Armenians. We tend to make and value friendships in the same way. Last evening, I got messages from Mexico and Uruguay from Angel de la Puente and Andres Malaplate. Merry Christmas Angel, Andres, and everyone else who I have not seen in years. 

     I have new colleagues. In August, I started a position as Associate Professor of Operations Management in the School of Business and Nonprofit Management at North Park University in Chicago. I am not sure if it is my next career move, my last career move, an encore career, or whatever. I am sure that it is not just a job. I am also totally loving it. I want to say this is what I should have been doing all along, but I am not certain I would have appreciated it or savored it as much as I do now. Merry Christmas to all my North Park University friends, colleagues, and, of course, the students.

     I will close with a copy/paste first text I got this morning as I sat down to write this piece. It is from my good and old friend Richard Kamar. It says it all:

     Merry Christmas 🎄 Enjoy the blessings of the day.

Part of our Christmas Eve gathering

The Musical Instrument Ornamented Tree in my Study