Business - Affiliate Marketing, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

Social Media in Marketing is Just That…Social

December 7, 2009 erikhom@aol.com 1 Comment

Last month I spoke on a panel at a Marketing conference at Electronic Arts in Redwood City with several marketing professionals speaking about innovations in marketing. The panel was set up a bit around brand marketing as well as social media so those on the panel spread across a large group of marketing functions as well as types of companies. After all, marketing for a consumer packaged goods company is not the same as marketing for an online gaming company. We have a much better educated consumer these days.

The questions were pretty basic about our own particular experiences. I always think that each industry, product and company has its own challenges/barriers to overcome. In the entertainment business where I have run affiliate marketing partnerships for the last 10 years, the challenges are very unique whether an established brand such as Ticketmaster or a hot new start up like Reel.com was back in 1997. It is hard to give advice when such antedotes do not apply to other situations. In the end the basic principles of managing your brand are still the same though and times have changed in brand marketing, product, promotion, placement, and pricing (the 4 P’s) are still very important and fundamental to the marketing of a product or service.

There did come a point during Q&A though when the panel was asked about what is the new hot thing or what is innovative in Marketing today. Many on the panel hesitated and I started to agree with some of the responses that there is nothing really new and innovative. Maybe there were new channels such as the internet and social networks where placement was just more timely and pricing is more discounted and services and browser based products seemed to succeed better than physical products.

Just as the conversation stopped I asked everyone if they knew who the CEO of Electronic Arts is (this panel was taking place in their building after all) and a few hands were raised. I asked the same about Proctor & Gamble. Again hardly anyone raised their hands. I then followed and asked if anyone felt either of those brands knew who they were. Silence. When I asked the same of Amazon, Microsoft and Zappos, the names Bezos, Ballmer and Hsieh were blurted out and hands were raised and people agreed those companies sure knew a whole hell of a lot about who their comsumers are. For years, companies have been wanting to “own” the customer so that they could market to them as efficiently as possible on a 1 to 1 basis. Well the big deal and innovative piece is that these companies are now able to do this. Faces now represent the brand more than ever. Sure we all knew Lee Iacocca, but he never had a dialogue like new companies do today. The opportunity to get to know your customer is there so that the dialogue is no longer about nameless faces and people talking to you from a call center in some 3rd world country asking you about the weather.

Sending an email or letter to a company CEO used to be hard enough as nobody gave you their information. Now people like CEO Tony Hsieh of Zappos have their own public Twitter accounts where you can have a public or private dialogue with him about how much like his company or your favorite pair of shoes that you want him to carry. Now while that may not be quite that personal and while Tony might not respond to everyone, it is quite empowering to the customer that at least their voice will be heard. In this day and age our society always wants to air their grievances and praises publicly. Things just aren’t that personal anymore.

That said, in the world of music, there is a lot of impersonalization going on when it comes to music discovery. It always used to be that you had one or two good friends who you could rely on to recommend a hot new song. You would also rely on your favorite DJ to introduce you to something cool. Nowadays, radio stations are being condensed, Djs are now replaced online by music sites where you self select and program your own radio station and or get recommendations from perfect strangers. I personally find the recommendations on iTunes to be very off-putting. Artists such as Taylor Swift (@taylorswift13) and Matt Morris (@Mattmorris) are getting personal on Twitter, interacting with their fans. Backstage passes mean a whole new thing with artists granting you the opportunity to meet them before a show and take photos for just a little more money. Gone are the days when the artists were held on a pedastal like gods and you swayed in a mosh pit of 50,000 people barely able to see the band. People want to touch and feel the merchandise. My 7-year old daughter now believes that every concert starts with getting together with the band for a photo shoot. She doesn’t root for people on the awards shows because of the music they play but rather on how nice they were to her when we went to see them play. She wants me to text them during the concert to win an after concert meeting as well. Of course my job affords me these luxuries occasionally, but as this example points out, people have a tendency to have an affinity for those things which have a little more touch in their lives. People don’t want to just have a photo or a poster of Lady Gaga, but they want to be in a photo with Lady Gaga and they want to put it on their Myspace page.

So here’s the point. Social media now allows us to do what we used to do on a more realtime basis. We used to get advice from the 3-4 resources in our lives that shaped our tastes. Now we still can, but we are able to share more information and on a more timely basis. We’re also able to get more information in your hands so you can make a better decision. Sometimes the brand, or serice or product is presented to you in a way that is more personal as well. Your friends who told you about the next great thing, now can just send you a quick note via Twitter to your cell phone. Why is this important? Because you’d rather hear that advice from a face and name you know rather than a person you’ve never met. We learn more about each other and sometimes we get to give feedback that someone will really use.

In the end its all a personal sale, a personal purchase that means more to you than it probably would have 10 years ago. Its a real change in marketing evolution. It’s about at least three things that help social media to change the way we make our buying decisions today: 1) More product information 2) More Personalization/customization and 3) more timely interaction. But remember, it’s not that new. It’s just that the social media world just makes us more social. It’s just not a good social in my mind. Playing games online through a virtual network rather than in the same room, sharing music through file sharing rather than having listening parties around a turntable, and sending someone a virtual rose for Valentines as opposed to handing a real rose is social, but just not the same. We run the risk of building very loose relationships. In the world of customer acquisition, the cost of those relationships should not be as high as those we have paid for in the past.

Route 53 - Life is A Highway

Thankful and Rejuvenated

December 2, 2009 erikhom@aol.com Leave a comment

May the good lord be with you down every road you roam. And may sunshine and happiness surround you when you’re far from home. – Rod Stewart

The four days of the Thanksgiving holiday give you just enough time to be thankful for what you’ve received over the past 11 months but give you just barely enough time to rest before the onslaught of the holidays consumes you. These days we are not only hit with Christmas, but we have Kwanzaa and Chanukkah, and we also have commercially Black Friday and Cyber Monday. If you’re in the affiliate world it just hits you all at once. The bargains are there to be had but getting those discount codes in front of everyone is becoming more and more difficult.

Consumers are also more savvy. They know that there is more demand for your business that ever. I even saw one site giving away a $1000 gift certificate to their Twitter follower that gave them the right answer. The funny thing is that this company only had 233 followers! What odds! Are they kidding? They didn’t even have much of anything on their site that I wanted to buy. I think it is funny that this promotion couldn’t even get people to follow them on Twitter. I even just checked and noticed that they lost 3 members since I last looked. This goes to show how brand awareness is still significant when running promotions on the web. The social web is not as viral as it once was. People are only following things they know and trust. They aren’t blindly following people and becoming friends with strangers online. It does concern me about the validity of the networks and friendships being created on sites such as Twitter, Facebook and MySpace.

Anyway, I digress as usual. I am truly rejuvenated in thought, body and soul. Over the holidays it hit me. Thanksgiving really has more meaning to me because it is the holiday where I met my wife. Where I met her 25 years ago and for that I will be forever thankful for that fateful night. 25 years later I ran out to the bridge and soaked in the beauty of the Golden Gate Bridge and took some photos of one of the most beautiful spots on Earth. Earlier that day I had watched my 10 year old son play golf and he played his greatest round ever, almost beating me. In his mind he was playing golf with his dad. In my mind I was also playing golf with my dad. There are so many similarities between my son and his grandfather. The smile, the giggles, the swagger, and his incredible casual demeanor….his spirit lives on in my son. Did I mention their golf game? Such a beauty to watch. I only wish they could have played golf together. Such a pair they would have made.

The holidays are tough on many and I still feel the loss of my father during the holidays. We had some of my aunties (my dad’s younger sisters) over for Thanksgiving. I don’t remember how it happened or what the conversation was that led to it, but we all broke down over dessert as my 75 year old aunt told me how much she missed my dad and wished he were still around. Imagine that. A 75 year old lady still needing the comfort of her older brother. My sister and other aunt and I just shed a tear and for about 2 minutes as we couldn’t talk as we tried to compose ourselves before pushing on, but it was nice to pay respect to my father and remind myself of how thankful I was to be the son of a man that still emitted those emotions years after his death. My brother-in-law who never really knew my dad I think was very touched by the scene.

I don’t know why, but that night more than ever I felt my dad with me on my run. I felt like I was running in solitude but I ran like the wind and ran faster than I had in a long time. Sometimes, revisiting your past I guess can just remind you of your youth.

I had a friend turn 45 the other day and I casually sent her a link to Alphaville’s “Forever Young”. It seemed so a propos. She responded so affirmatively that it made me smile. Then I found Rod Stewart’s “Forever Young”. The words rang true and all I could think is how good and motivating those words are…..enough to get me through this holiday season at least.

Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight

Doing the Manly Thing

November 24, 2009 erikhom@aol.com Leave a comment

“Cancer is never just about the person who has it. At least it shouldn’t be. It’s about everyone around that person. Chris made a selfless decision and I love him dearly for it.” – Stefanie Spielman about her husband Chris before she lost her battle with breast cancer.

Many of you may not know who Chris Spielman is, but he was an All-American linebacker from Ohio St. and NFL All-pro. He also exemplified in my mind a great role model for all husbands out there when it comes to supporting your spouse. It isn’t just that he is a celebrity that I give him credit for being a good husband. I think he went beyond the call of duty as a co-survivor. I copied the story below by Lisa Olson

Recently his wife passed. What I really loved about this story is how he showed what co-survivorship is all about. I‘ve attached a link here, but you can also just read this story below:

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by Lisa Olson

When Chris Spielman suffered a brutal neck injury, he said overcoming it was a breeze compared to most everything his wife Stefanie had faced. When her hair started falling out, when clumps of it began landing on the floor and in their toddler’s hands, Chris decided to shave his own head, a soldier in solidarity. When it became apparent that more chemotherapy and a mastectomy — breast cancer’s evil twins — were high on Stefanie’s schedule, Chris bid a temporary farewell to the NFL, skipping an entire year so he could be with the woman he proposed to on the 18th hole of a Putt-Putt course.

None of the above should be considered exceptional behavior by husbands or partners forced to watch their loved one undergo treatment for cancer. But everything Chris did back in those gloomy days following his wife’s diagnosis was regarded as unusual and, in some parts, emasculating.

Stefanie Spielman, 42, died Thursday after a lengthy battle with breast cancer. Chris Spielman, the NFL and Ohio State star, was by her side, along with their four children, and while she deserves a thousand hosannas and a billion thanks for her work in raising millions over the years to combat the disease, it should be noted that he was quite the trailblazer.

When they met at a teen dance in their hometown of Massillon, Ohio, Chris was a high school stud who soon would be featured on the cover of a Wheaties box; his football journey continued at Ohio State, where his bone-crunching hits as an All-American linebacker became legendary. By the time Stefanie found a lump in her right breast during a routine self-exam, they had been married 10 years and he was deep into an NFL career. This was 1998, and let’s just say the world of sports was not as enlightened as it is now.

She was three months pregnant when she felt that lump, and later miscarried. Chris told her he wanted to skip his upcoming season with the Buffalo Bills so he could accompany her to doctor appointments, and hold her head when the chemo made her nauseous, and be a calming force as she underwent surgery to remove her breast. Eight stellar years with the Detroit Lions and another two with the Bills (he set a team and personal record in 1996 with 206 tackles) had given him much credibility with the football-crazed public, but how would they understand this kind of absence?

“Players just didn’t leave the game unless they were injured or retiring on their own terms,” Stefanie once told me at a fundraiser for Lance Armstrong’s Livestrong foundation. “It seemed so simple to me. Just tell the fans your wife has breast cancer. Who knows? Maybe it will have some kind of trickle-down effect. Maybe one fan will go home and say to his wife, ‘Honey, sweetheart, don’t forget to make that appointment for your mammogram.’

“Cancer is never just about the person who has it. At least it shouldn’t be. It’s about everyone around that person. Chris made a selfless decision and I love him dearly for it.”

He took the season off, shaved his head to match his wife’s beautiful bald dome and still there were the grumps in the Neanderthal section wondering why a Pro Bowl linebacker had to go and mess up their Sunday fun. When Stefanie’s treatment reached a manageable level, he returned to the NFL for the 1999 season, this time with the Cleveland Browns, but a second neck injury ended his NFL career.

“Nothing my body has gone through can begin to compare to what Stefanie deals with almost every day,” Chris once said. “She’s my hero.”

Stefanie’s plan, formed in the aftermath of her diagnosis, began on a small level, with a sign at Big Bear, the Spielman’s neighborhood grocery story, asking shoppers to please donate money to Ohio State’s James Cancer Hospital. A few thousand dollars, she said, would have made her delirious. Girl Scout troops and baseball teams and individuals and clubs from all across the community began offering their pennies, and within six months those pennies totaled $1 million.

The Stefanie Spielman Fund for Breast Cancer Research, along with the Stefanie’s Champions awards, has since raised more than $6.5 million for the cause. She survived four bouts with cancer before a fifth, and final, recurrence in the spring left her wheelchair-bound. She accompanied Chris to Ohio State’s season opener against Navy, when he was honored at halftime for his induction into the College Football Hall of Fame. Against a backdrop where Chris once played to phenomenal roars, the loudest applause, by far, came when Stefanie was introduced.

And in a cruel coincidence, on one of her last days came a report from a federal task force saying women should delay mammograms until they’re 50, 10 years later than the medical community has traditionally recommended. Not to make the Neanderthals in the balcony squeamish, but if you, the sports fan, have a mother, a sister, a wife, a girlfriend — or if you just happen to like healthy breasts — this might be a subject worth discussing at halftime. There is one tough linebacker who’d appreciate it.

“Stefanie has gone home to be with the Lord,” Chris Spielman said in a statement released by WBNS radio in Columbus, where he co-hosts a radio show. “For that, we celebrate, but with broken hearts. I want to thank everyone for their support over the last 12 years. Together, with your help, hopefully we made a difference in this fight.”

We hear all the time about athletes who’d never win plaques for Father or Husband of the Year. They fail in the complicated tango between celebrity and sports, neglecting their human responsibilities in exchange for fame and an enlarged ego. But there are many more who quietly go about their business between the lines, before returning home and acting as good citizens, good partners.

Chris and Stefanie Spielman’s story might have been one of the first public examples of an athlete doing the right — dare we say, the manly — thing. Thankfully, and in her memory, it won’t be the last.

(by Lisa Olson)

Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

What’s Up? How’s Your Wife?

November 20, 2009 erikhom@aol.com 2 Comments

This is my most special place in all the world. Once a place touches you like this, the wind nevers blows so cold again. You feel for it, like it was your child.

– Moonlight Graham, Field of Dreams

Ah..what to write. When I run each night, the mind swirls with this thick soup of thoughts. Some people have writer’s block. I have writer’s neurosis. I wish you could see the list of half written blog entries that I have yet to complete. You will, but hopefully they will still be relevant. I guess tonight I will have to address some recent inquiries to my email……

Funny how I still occasionally get an email (this week I got two) which asked how my wife is and why I don’t write about cancer anymore in my blog. The short answer is that this blog was never intended to be about my wife’s cancer. It was just a continuation of my personal thoughts on life. My public memoirs if you will.

The long answer is that I can say that I feel so lucky that my wife is doing great, gets monthly shots and takes daily pills to make sure the cancer does not come back. We are just about at the one year mark of five years of Tamoxifin treatments (20% done is quite an achievement). The monthly shots leave a nice black and blue mark on my wife’s abdomen, my wife’s surgical scars are starting to fade, and occasionally we talk about her side effects, but I take my cues from my wife for the most part. She’s ready to move on. That said, we don’t forget. We don’t forget the fears, we don’t forget the worries, we don’t forget those nights without sleep, and we don’t forget the months of surgeries. Reading some of the blogs and talking to those who have just been diagnosed or who have wives reminds us of where we were and how much our lives have changed.

Breast cancer is now a large part of our lives so much so that we have to escape. No breast cancer walks or runs for me. My runs are my way of running in honor of my wife, mom, mom-in-law, cousins, aunts, and friends who have all been struck by breast cancer. Every night when I run I am reminded of our fortunate results, my wife’s strength, and those others who we have met through our ordeal. By the way, of all the above mentioned, only my mother was over 50 when first diagnosed. Yes, this is in light of the new panel study which says that women should now wait til 50 before having mammograms. It is really a shame that we are now trying to cut back on preventive medicine during a big time for research and discovery. Now is not the time to cut back when we are making so much progress.

Yes, breast cancer as a topic is all around us now and we just can’t escape it so we relish those moments when it doesn’t remotely come close to infiltrating our conversations or thoughts. It is like my friend who works with juvenile delinquents on a daily basis. He has told me that because of his job he doesn’t want to have children of his own. This week I met with a gentleman who has been waiting a month and his wife’s surgery is right after Thanksgiving. I had met him a couple times, but this week he just broke down. His fears and concerns finally overwhelmed his facade. His worries about his wife, his kids, the mounting medical bills, and all the uncertainty surrounding the outcomes finally came to a head. It just took me back a year and I relived it all in one hour. That feeling of hopelessness hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke down with this man I barely knew. I couldn’t tell him things would be alright as I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to hear either. I wanted a path. I wanted a path out of the mess. All I could tell him was to bury himself into caring for his wife. Focus on the task at hand.

That night I ran a long run. Couple that encounter with an incident earlier in the morning where I had a woman faint in the elevator bank in my office bulding. It turns out she was having a heart attack. All she kept saying was “my babies, my babies” . Her predicament had me distracted the rest of the day until I had my conversation with that breast cancer husband. Both incidences had me reeling. They reminded me of how fragile life is. All I wanted that night was to be alone with my thoughts so I could just make sense of it all.

Well I hope that explains it all. Thankful this Thanksgiving? Yep I sure will be. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Route 53 - Life is A Highway

Save Us San Francisco

November 13, 2009 erikhom@aol.com 1 Comment

Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you’re here with me
And you make everything alright
And when I feel like I’m lost something tells me you’re here with me
And I can always find my way when you are here

– Pat Monahan, Train

I was at a concert recently where the group, Train, which was formed in San Francisco, played from their new album, Save Me San Francisco. I thought it an interesting title given that they have to play in about 50 other cities on their tour and I doubt they would tell people how, “Chicago is great, but we’re here to tell you about San Francisco”.

I admit that I have had a lifelong love affair with San Francisco. Fortunate to have been born here and even more fortunate to still work and have a family here, I try not to take it for granted. Even my wife who is from the East Coast finally has broken down and said this is the perfect place to have settled. “It has soul. It has character, ” she once told me. She’s right. But it isn’t just the City. It’s the people too.

Now don’t get me wrong. Having spent years working in Chicago and New York and various other cities, I love those cities for many of their merits as well. And the people there are so real and loveable in their own way and sometimes even more loveable than San Francisco. I’m sure everyone feels that way about where they are from, so excuse me while I gloat. After all, Conde Nast Traveler’s reader poll did say that San Francisco is the best place in America, so they can’t be that wrong, could they?

Yes San Francisco has it’s Golden Gate, it’s nearby Napa wine country, and the beautiful Pacific coastline, but like every beautiful painting or landscape, the object of your desire has to have depth which keeps you coming back for more. It has to engage you, frustrate you, encourage you, entertain you, and most of all, leave you breathless in amazement as you look back over your shoulder as to what you have been through. For me, San Francisco has always been “all points pointing west” whenever I look for that solution.

Maybe there really is something magical about San Francisco. For my whole life I’ve known people who have moved to this city I call home. They come here to find themselves, to discover acceptance for who they are, or just to begin again. In the 1800s there was the Gold Rush, in the 1960s it was the hippies and free love. Today it is still for the technology as well as an alternative style of living.

As a native, I’m not looking for much of the new so much that I am looking to have more of the same and in some way to revisit those things which I’ve enjoyed so much about the past, and some recent small events have gotten me to thinking about those healing powers of the City once called by Herb Caen, Baghdad by the Bay. They might not mean anything individually, but together in reflection they do.

A few weeks back on the golf course in the 56th Northern California Family Golf Championships with my son. The tournament is one that I started playing with my own dad when I was in high school. It was my way of getting closer to my dad doing something he enjoyed. We played many times and it wasn’t until my early 20s that we finally took home a trophy for our flight. I still remember that hug and that smile and laugh my dad gave me when he won, “We did it,” he exclaimed. It was an aw-shucks kind of smile, but it wasn’t until now that I realized he really did enjoy it as much as I did.

With the shoes reversed some 20 years later, I became overwhelmed with a sense of deja vu. I kept looking at my son and remembering all the great times I had in this tournament with his grandfather. Back then I did it to be closer with my dad and I always felt it was for me. But as we advanced each round in this tournament this year I realized how much I was getting out of this and just relished the moments spent with my son to just talk about life, learning to relax, and to tell him no matter what happened, how proud I am of him. It wasn’t just me. Many of the other teams were multi-generation San Franciscans who had played the tournament as youngsters and now were playing with their own children. Such a cool event and yet, such a personal and life building experience.

Soccer Saturdays was not something I had growing up. Anyone who has children these days knows what it means to be a soccer parent. You spend your days as a chauffeur and snack coordinator. In San Francisco it has been a chance for me to see old high school friends, cousins and classmates who have children the same age. Having the time to talk about old times and fins out about old friends has become a weekly ritual. It just makes you realize how small this City is.

Now getting back to the Train concert, I took my wife and my best friend from high school to see Train at the reknowned Fillmore concert hall (http://www.thefillmore.com), one of those temples of music that has so much hisotry in it (more on this later). Train inspired this posting as they were formed in San Francisco, disbanded for solo careers and just recently moved back to San Francisco to start recording together. They told the story of how although none of them were originally from the area, they felt as though the City had saved them twice. First by bringing them together and then, bringing them back together again. They went through a myriad of songs all about California and San Francisco that left the 3 of us so happy that we went and so proud of the city we call home.

A few weeks later I got a message that one of my childhood elementary school classmates had passed away. We weren’t close, but I saw the grieving that many of those classmates felt. Although our friend died early and a rough life was pretty much the cause of death, that did not matter to us. The outpouring of grief and emotion turned into a beautiful private vigil at San Francisco’s Ocean Beach at sunset. Suddenly the 76 classmates were now back in touch some 30 years later, brought together by the death of one of our own. It makes me wonder if our friend realized how much she was loved and will be missed by so many and by those who she might not have seen in so long. My wife thought it very interesting and touching that our community was that tight. I reminded her and our children ( they go to the same school my brothers and sister and I went to) that history repeats itself and that some day our children might be out there grieving for one of their classmates.

In getting our classmates together I even had the opportunity to go out to a restaurant owned by one of our firends. He even comped us a great meal (http://www.betelnutrestaurant.com). Afterwards we went to the Fillmore to see a small artist named Mat Kearney. It turns out that Mat’s parents have a lot of history in San Francisco and were in attendance. They were flower children who met in San Francisco in the ’50s while working in a diner as a waitress and a chef. Although they hade very little money they were able to see a few concerts at the Fillmore and claimed their favorites were Jimmy Hendrix and Bob Dylan. Well now they have to add their son to that list which has brought their lives back to San Francisco full circle. I love little stories like that.

Yes, San Francisco has its mysterious charm and I’m sure it has healing powers for whatever it is that ails you or those around you..Los Angeles may have its Palm Trees and beautiful people, New York might have Wall St., and all the nightlife you could want, Chicago has great food and spirit, but San Francisco simply has the “it” factor that attracts and rewards those who embrace it.

Route 53 - Celebrity Sightings, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

The Z-Man

October 22, 2009 erikhom@aol.com Leave a comment

“The payment for me has always been in the doing. I didn’t get into [photography] for a job.” – Michael Zagaris, Photographer

With the Z-man before a recent 49er game

Michael Zagaris is not a household name and many might not even ever consider him to be a celebrity. Affectionately known as “The Z-man”, Michael is not just a photographer, but he’s a historian. Anyone who has lived in San Francisco in the past 50 years has seen his work and appreciated his ability to “capture the moment” although they might not even know who he is. He’s one of them. Politically active, fiercely independent and living and brieathing a job that he’s passionate about, Michael embodies the heart and soul of what living in San Francisco is about for most people. Michael moved here after his first passion failed him. Michael wanted to be a politician and was working on Capital Hill until the fateful day when Bobby Kennedy was shot. “I was right there behind him” , he has told many. In fact he has photos (then a hobby) of the Kennedys playing football in their back yard. In fact, although lean and in good shape, Michael was at one time a college football player and aspiring football player (let’s just say he would not have been anything like Gerald Ford).

To appreciate Michael’s breadth of work one needs not necessarily look at his work as art, but as a portfolio of photos that tell a story. Michael’s photos are a combination of his relationship to his subject matter and his ability to put you there with him. At a 49er football game last week, my son poked me in the side and said look, there’s Michael waving at you. People around me laughed thinking that I was waving at the 49er cheerleaders, which wouldn’t have been bad either, but it was nice waving at an artist who has captured the imagery of my youth. Today, Michael is the official team photographer for the San Francisco 49ers and the Oakland A’s. You see, any sports fan, especially one from the San Francisco Bay Area would consider him to be the guy who has a dream job. On this day, the 49ers feted their original owner, Eddie DeBartolo, who saved the team and fans from misery and created a 5-Super Bowl dynasty during a halftime ceremony. Watching that ceremony is all you needed to know about Michael. Watching Eddie DeBartolo, come out, Michael started to take his photo but this multi-millionaire future Hall of Famer signaled for him to stop and hugged him first. This was followed by hugs with Ronnie Lott, Joe Montana and Jerry Rice, Hall of Famers and celebrities in their own right. That’s Michael. A friend first, historian and photographer second. His photos touch your soul and each person tells their own story of their recollection of that era when they look at his photos.

Like the great San Francisco Pulitzer Prize winning columnist, Herb Caen, Michael has captured the aura surrounding some of San Francisco’s greatest moments. Whether it was covering the great hippie culture and music scene of the 60s-70s in San Francisco’s Haight Ashbury, the great 49er dynasty of the ’80s or the Oakland A’s and the beginning of the steroid era of baseball in the late 80s and early 90s, Michael took you right there and showed you his unique perspective.

You see, Michael can give you the classic baseball card photo of a guy holding his bat and smiling, but he has an all-acess pass that shows you that same guy after throwing a 100 pitches and grimacing as they pour ice over his sore shoulder. On his kitchen table I found piles of photos he had just taken for the Oaklan A’s professional baseball team. I have no idea how he organizes them, so I didn’t sort through them too hard and obvioulsy was not too concerned with the subject. “Ah, a Giants fan”, he said. He nodded as we both knew what we were thinking. The 1989 World Series between the Oakland A’s and San Francisco Giants interrupted by the Loma Prieta earthquake which became more famous than the players who played in that series.

Sitting at his coffee table of his apartment just around the corner from Haight and Ashbury, Michael let me thumb through his archives. Just like a bookworm who might have books sitting in piles from the floor to ceiling, Michael has rows of mounted photos leaned up against the wall waiting for someone to come along and hang them up (Divorced from the mother of his grown son, Michael had just broken up with his girlfriend and asked me if I knew any hip women. I did recommend a friend but that is another story). Michael hands me one photo after I tell him I was a big Madonna fan and shows me the classic photo of Madonna from her 1990 Blond Ambition tour with her Jean Paul Gaultier cone bra that set a fashion trend for a couple years.

Michael, a historian was writing about English Rock’n’Roll when Eric Clapton noticed his hobby and told him he had real talent. From there Michael became linked to icons Roger Daltrey, Peter Frampton and Mick Jagger. He’s was added to their inner sanctum. As he rummages around a pile of photos scattered around the floor he throws in front of me a photo of Rick James….I look at him . “It’s Rick James, Bitch”, he says in his best Dave Chapelle impersonation. Rick James is leaning over a rock along the San Francisco Bay and snorting cocaine. He laughs and tells me a story about how he was going to do a cover shot for Rolling Stone Magazine when Rick James invited him to do some drugs. Well Michael in his convincing way somehow convinced a somewhat non-compliant Rick James to get outside and take a few photos. I can just see it. He has numerous photos around that tell stories. Stories that have never been told.

On my way out of his place we talk briefly about his marriage to a top model, the mother of his acting son who lives in LA. His son’s room is a shrine of baseball bobbleheads. It is the neatest room in this Upper Haight flat. He reminds me to let him know if I know of any women who would be looking for companionship. Michael is so cool. I don’t think I know of a single woman out there who could appreciate this eccentric visual historian of some of San Francisco’s most charming and colorful history.

Route 53 - Celebrity Sightings, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

Solidarity in Death and Love

October 14, 2009 erikhom@aol.com 1 Comment

“Funerals and deaths are the departed’s message to remind us to go out and live life” – The Very Reverend Alan Jones, Grace Cathedral

It has taken me a day to settle down from my harrowing plane flight. I’m not afraid of flying, but flying in the high winds that hit the West Coast of the US yesterday was not a joy ride I enjoyed. I was sitting there in seat 12F mentally writing my own obituary about how I was rushing back to Northern California to my cousin’s funeral, my second of the week, when my plane went down in the SF Bay. It was one of those flights where you hear that whistle. You know the sound. It’s the one you hear in the movies where the plane makes that soaring screech before it hits the ground? We had to abort our landing twice as our captain told us that the wind shears were too violent to provide us with a predictable path to the runway. Inside the plane, we slammed against each other with each turbulent drop and rise of our plane, trying not to act worried. The woman next to me grabbed my arm subconsciously and I didn’t even want to look at her for fear I’d get scared too. I tried to distract myself with the newspaper only to read about the great confidence we should have in the pilots of today, an article about Chesley Sullenberger, a local hero, and someone you would have wanted at the helm of our plane yesterday. We eventually landed and everyone rushed to the men’s room full of relieved tension. Even the pilot came rushing in to a bunch of smiling and relieved faces.

The quote for this post is a thought provoking one from the Reverend who presided over my first funeral I attended this week. I just wish I didn’t need these reminders. Seriously, so far two funerals for dads under the age of 55 this week and I get the message. I get it , I get it, I get it. I sat there yesterday listening to my son’s classmate singing “100 Years” by 5 for Fighting and I just about lost it. I could not see my son singing next to my casket like that. Every other dad in the church must have been thinking the same thing. I looked around and I’m sure people were thinking “That could be me”.

I stopped myself as I asked myself if I would rather have more time to plan my death or go quickly in my sleep. What? I can’t live life like that. I need to live life every day for the sake of happiness. As soon as these recent deaths came in fast sequence last week we didn’t need to say anything. My wife knew how I was feeling, “There is solidarity and certainty in death. We’ll all die some day, but let’s not live to die, but live to live well”. For the first time I can ever remember, my kids came to visit me at work and all of us went out for lunch. Just so nice to see your family together to break up the day. It was just the beginning to the start of a great family weekend.

Saturday was our normal soccer Saturday as a family followed by the President’s Cupgolf tournament. The President’s Cup was chilly but a great way to see the best golfers in the world in an intimate setting on our local home course. Golf is unique because of how close you get to the players and the fact that you are actually walking around on the playing surface with them, not like most sports where they look like gladiators in a pit.

My 7-year old daughter doesn’t play golf yet, but I loved it on Sunday night when we ask everyone in our home what was their favorite part of the weekend and she chose to say that seeing Tiger Woods in person while snuggling close together as a family sipping hot cocoa was the best.

Sunday was followed by early morning Little League baseball again on a cold and blustery day. It was another coffee and cocoa morning. The evening was finished with a trip to see Star Wars in Concert. This was my son’s favorite event as he got to see all the costumes from the movies and watch the movies unfold to an orchestra which played the famous score that won many accolades and the Academy Award. Seeing his eyes light up and his feet tapping to the music reminded me of myself at his age. My wife and I caught each other watching our son and smiled that knowing smile that he was having a good time and enjoying himself. It was a long day, but he was so excited to watch that he didn’t want to take a break to get food because he didn’t want to miss a thing.

Yes, the Reverend Alan Jones was right in saying that funerals and death bring us together to reflect and remember on those who have left us and to help celebrate their lives. He was also very right in saying that love binds us too. Spending a wonderful weekend with my family and exposing my children to some great experiences that they will never forget is something I will always cherish. It is love and great times spent together which bind a family in experience and spirit. It is those pleasant memories which we will use to grow and to help us remember the best of times at the worst of times… like when we are sitting on a plane with some crazy stranger grabbing on to your arm so tight.

Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Celebrity Sightings, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

A Brand New Day – Breast Cancer Awareness Month

October 9, 2009 erikhom@aol.com Leave a comment

Been a bit since I posted thoughts here. A lot has been going on in life so it is good to capture these thoughts now. I have been inundated with life events that have put me in a very pensive mood about what where I’ve been, where I am and where I am going in life. After these last two weeks, today is defintiely a Brand New Day.

When I arrived home yesterday I saw the biggest smile on my wife’s face. To be welcomed by a big kiss a day after coming home to find that I lost a close relative to a heart attack was definitely a good pick me up. This may be the beginning of a brand new day on our journey with cancer. My wife’s joy was from her follow up post-op appointment with her surgeon. I think her doctors were also relieved to see her smiling as well as she said that they all gave her big hugs. Yes, my wife was her usual “chatty Cathy” self again, and that meant all was really well. It just dawned on me that it had been over 18 months since I had seen that excitement on her face. I had missed her “text” message in which she had told me how happy she was. She had been in good spirits, mind you, but this was just different. Some say our journey of survivorship is over, but I think when we look back it has only just begun.

One of the things that I didn’t know would affect me so much is the way Breast Cancer Awareness has grown so much. Last year when my wife was just starting her battle we might have missed all of the action, but this year we both seem to be more aware of how powerful a movement Breast Cancer Awareness month really is. I felt like every week there was a walk or run for breast cancer and I did notice a lot of products in the grocery store when purchased gave back to some breast cancer research fund.

Ingrid Michaelson sang for Breast Cancer at Slide

For example, Ingrid Michaelson, pictured above, sang at a local club last night here in San Francisco with proceed donations at the door going to Breast Cancer Organizations in the Bay Area. The song “Be Okay” has become a feature song in the fight against breast cancer. She was also part of the Hotel Cafe Tour last year in which the album, Winter Songs, gave $.50 for each sale to breast cancer research.

SF 49er Cheerleaders wear pink tops for breast cancer

This past weekend, all of the NFL paid homage to breast cancer and its survivors. At the 49er game, donations were taken at the gate, referees wore pink, cheerleaders wore pink and players wore pink. Before the game, 50 breast cancer survivors were introduced to the players. One of the captains, 49ers QB, Shaun Hill, who wore pink cleats during the game, met with the survivors. He was later quoted as saying how he had put on the pink cleats without thinking. He didn’t know anyone with breast cancer, but when he met these women and saw the spirit in their eyes he said it suddenly became real to him and the shoes meant something. He said it even rattled him a bit before the game started.

Zach Johnson, PGA Tour Pro, sports pink ribbon at President's Cup

And just yesterday I was at the President’s Cup. Nothing formal was done around Breast Cancer Awareness but a couple of the US players, notably Phil Mickelson and Master’s Champion, Zach Johnson, wore pink ribbons. Phil’s wife Amy, a native of Northern California, is currently battling breast cancer. What was readily apparent was that Phil made a point of saying hello and stopping for a second to speak with every person who wore a notably pink cap or ribbon to stop and sign an autograph. Several elderly women who wore Susan G. Komen shirts were startled as he stopped to say hello and give them each a hug. It didn’t go unnoticed by me or any of the thousands of spectators who saw this connection and warmth he exhibited especially when compared to other golfers who whisked right by the crowd without any kind of acknowledgement to the screaming fans.

So what does this mean? To me it is just the sign of how powerful a community of similarity around a single cause can be. I wish the same thing could be done around heart disease. Just like the push for a mammogram, perhaps everyone should get an EKG. With the obese population we have and the number of people who die of heart attacks each year, why shouldn’t we all get one. I probably need one and my cousin who passed away in his early 50s in his sleep earlier this week could have used one. I bet his 3 teenage children and wife wish that he could have had one.

My son with the NFL ref sporting pink wristbands and ribbon

These events when they hit so close to home just make me think more about my life in so many ways. What was the last thing I did with my cousin? Gave him a High-5 and a hug at the 49ers home opener. How good does that make me feel? It helps me feel like my peace with my cousin is there. It reminded me that when you see someone make sure you leave a good impression with them until you see them again and to remember that smile until the next time you see them. My cousin and his wife and family are models to me of where I will be in 10 years. I can’t help but see that in 10 years I don’t want my heart to fail on my own children and leave them fatherless as they just get started with their lives. It is sad though. My cousin was my 10 year barometer in life. His death to me is a kick start to remind myself to do as much as I can to spend quality time with my children and really make sure they know me and my wishes for them. My life is an open book to them. No secrets. My fears and hopes and dreams are there for them to inspect.

My cousin and his wife were the first people we told on my father’s side of the family when my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and they were the first to help out. My wife and I are beside ourselves about how lucky and fortunate we are to be winning the battle against breast cancer a year later at the same time we are seeing people who seemed so healthy leave us behind. There is no rhyme or reason it seems.

NFL All-Pro LB Patrick Willis sports his pink gloves and cleats

Finally, my son’s classmate’s dad finally lost his battle with pancreatic cancer earlier this week as well. Yes I feel like signs of my life area ll around me. Watching another dad with similar age children leave behind a wife to take care of a 10 and 7 year old is just so sad. When first diagnosed he told me how his main goal was to fight the cancer as long as he could but he knew he couldn’t win in the long run and thus his other goal was to impart enough of his thoughts on life to his two sons so that they’d have something to guide them. Watching the 10 year old this week, his father did a good job in preparing him for the inevitable day. Sad that it has to be at such a young age though for such a good kid.

So where do I go from here? As I said, it’s a brand new day. We can only go forward, live life to it’s fullest and make sure we taste every experience we can get and share it with everyone in such a way that we have an impact on those who might have to be reminded or forget the power of the human spirit.

Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

Tales from the Waiting Room

September 28, 2009 erikhom@aol.com 4 Comments

BreastCancerSymbol

Okay, 4th time in a surgery waiting room in 13 months. It is one of the worst places to wait. Whomever said misery loves company was absolutely wrong. Today is even worse as I wait because the room is packed and the angst on the faces of the family just put a damper on my mood. People are talking loudly on the phone, sobbing uncontrollably, pacing over the zig zag rug pattern, or even joking with each other. Emotions run high and all of these people are just coping with their fear and worries with different strategies. Me? I’m here blogging this as two people argue over what we should all watch on the television. I think we are settling on re-runs of Friends. Appropriate, I guess.

Maybe my wife and are used to this or maybe even numb as we had to somehow already get through the day until her 4:30 surgery. Not as difficult as her past 3 surgeries I think my wife and I are good at distracting ourselves. I came home to find my wife had baked blueberry and muffins for our kids, planned out the pick-up schedule after school for the week and arranged a couple play dates. My mother and I looked at each other and chuckled. My own mother who had breast cancer told my wife she is probably the only person on this planet who baked before her mastoplexy on an empty stomach.

This never is easy though. My wife’s doctors always give me a time that is less than it is. A 6 hour surgery turns into 8, a 7 hour surgery turns into 9, a 2 hour surgery turns into 5 and already today’s one hour surgery is over 2 hours old. Every time the double doors to the surgery room open, everyone jumps up with an expectation it is their surgeon. I think sitting here alone with my computer is the best thing. Most of the anger is geared towards other family members about getting something to eat or drink.

It does make me appreciate my wife though more and more each time. These hours alone make you appreciate what you love about that person in the operating room. It isn’t just about hoping that they get out out the surgery okay, but about how much you love them, what they do for you, what you want to do with them and more. As I left for the hospital I thought I’d confess to my son that his mom was having surgery. He knew and I told him his mother would be okay. He casually said, “I figured”. I wanted to hug him but he just smiled and went up to do his homework. If he only knew how worried his dad is about his mother.

Well, I don’t think I can wait much longer. I need to go eat and move my car out of the garage….oops there she goes off to the recovery room. Doctor said she is good. Time to get dinner! Gotta get out of this depression chamber.

Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

Foghorns, 49ers, and Fall

September 22, 2009 erikhom@aol.com Leave a comment

Life is a roller coaster ride
Time turns the wheel and love collides
Faith is believing you can close your eyes and touch the sky
So shine while you have the chance to shine
Laugh even when you want to cry
Hold on tight to what you feel inside and ride

– Lyrics to “The Ride” by Martina McBride

Kicking off a New Season in San Francisco

Today is officially the last day of summer and the first day of Fall. A beautiful time for me and a wonderful time in San Francisco. I believe if Mark Twain had stayed for the Fall, his famous quote would have read, “The coldest Winter I ever spent was the Summer I spent in San Francisco, but the warmth of its Fall Sunny Days and Foggy nights give the city it’s charm the makes it so beautiful.”

This is now the time to enjoy its 40 hills, its 49 square mile (some say its officially47) and some of its over 3000 wonderful restaurants. Tourists are gone, the weather is at its best, and if you want to venture up to the Napa wine country, it is time to see the Fall crush of the grapes which many say is the best time to visit.

Someone asked me recently, “What is with the midnight runs?” They really aren’t at midnight, but I have to admit they are later than most people run. They are also somewhat of a sore point with my wife as she doesn’t like my running in dark clothes with no identification on me. The truth of the matter is that while I am running sparsely populated streets at night, I do run a pretty regular route, I run on sidewalks and even some of the parking valets around know my schedule well enough to tell me if I’m running late, early or slow. Last night I was even able to tell the valets at Spruce Restaurant the score of the late night ESPN game.

Running the streets of San Francisco is where I do my best thinking. Sometimes those nagging issues you’ve been dealing with for days or weeks just somehow find a solution at mile #2 when you’ve got that lactic acid building in your leg, but you stretch it out running up the steep incline on Upper Fillmore imagining you are Rocky only to find Gino’s liquor store and the last patrons of Jackson Fillmore coming out of the trattoria with sated appetites instead of a big statue at the top of the stairs overlooking Philadelphia.

It is my favorite time to run in San Franciso. The end of summer in San Francisco usually means our hottest days are coming. It means nights filled with low lying wispy fog that drenches your face during your runs. It also means those deep fog horns blaring throughout the night. During the day the fog blows out to sea and the days are filled with 80 degree weather. My dad used to call this fog, San Francisco’s natural air conditioner. It is so refreshing and almost is like our Spring in many ways. In fact with baseball season ending and football season beginning, it is like a whole new season, especially in San Francisco, home of the 5 time champion 49ers. Growing up going to games with my dad it was the time of hope and new beginnings. To me it still is that way. Now it’s with my own son.

Running the streets of San Francisco, with foghorns blaring I just smile to myself thinking about the great time I had at the ballpark with my son earlier in the day, introducing him to the people who have sat around us in the same seats for 30 years. The same people who gave me cookies and milk when I was his age now give them to my son. My son has no clue how he’s just living my life from 30 years ago. Cheering on the 49ers, high fiving strangers after a great play and eating terrible food that give you a stomach ache when you get home. It’s a cyclical pattern in life and yet it is a new beginning.

I can look back 30 years, but these days while I celebrate a year since my wife’s breast cancer surgery, I also look back a year when I was playing nurse to my recovering wife. It still isn’t over with her pending surgery coming. This will again hopefully be the last surgery for a while. This is one cycle I don’t want to have repeat itself. A year can make a huge difference both good and bad. There is no doubt in my mind that my wife and I are stronger than we were before.

So back to my running, I’m not an extremely spiritual person as I’ll go to church for special occasions, but running has been my place of worship and my confessional. Each run is my own search for the truth. I don’t run with others, justw ith my thoughts. It is where I ask myself if I truly believe. It is where I push myself and question my actions and where I look for the answer to many of life’s questions. It is my solitude that allow me to begin a new day every day with renewed energy. There is a running commercial where the person has to get through that first mile before they reach that special runner’s place. Yes, that the runner’s high. It is true for me like many. I feel better after an exhausting run that before I left. San Francisco has a part in that. It is that friend that is with me on every run. Its streets are the paths in life that I go over time and again. Yes Fall is here in San Francisco and my motivation is higher than ever.