Strangling the Baby in the Crib: Death of an Idea

The morning email was urgent. “Craig, call me asap.”

It was a request written by a trusted, talented TV station general manager. Someone I knew, liked and very much respected.

Moments later I put in a phone call to him back East. The GM explained that he had just had a conversation with the Executive Director of a very worthy humanitarian group. The organization was becoming well known for great, compassionate aid to hurting people, both home and overseas. My friend the GM and the Director had started brainstorming about creating and airing a new TV series that would feature the unselfish work of this up-and-coming charity group. The series would raise awareness, create new donors…and bring fresh opportunities.

The GM explained the show concept to me over the phone, also detailing how he had recommended me as the TV series’ potential producer. (One of my portfolios is producing media featuring humanitarian & charity projects.) I was asked to call the humanitarian group’s director the next day, because the leader was traveling to the Midwest at that moment.

Over the course of a week or so, that humanitarian leader (a gifted executive) and I talked at length about the show he wanted produced, including what would be portrayed and what my involvement entailed. Wonderful discussions with lots of creative buzz. Then he asked me to call his group’s director of media to get that person on-board and involved too.

That’s where the idea died.

I made the requested, introductory phone call to the media director, and within 5 minutes the series was scuttled and I was off any possible series.

Despite my enthusiasm, there was a chill in the air.

Why? Because the brilliant idea I was describing – even if it came from the boss - had not originated with the media director first. He asked how the idea had came about, how long I’d been talking to the boss, what was the potential budget and exactly WHAT WOULD I BE DOING?

It was over before it even started.

I heard responses like “well, I don’t know if the timing is quite right.”

“We’ll have to see where this goes.”

“Don’t know if we really have the budget for this right now.”

There’s another reason why the GRAND TV SERIES IDEA was killed: Insecurity. The media director, who also was a producer, felt threatened by my very presence…because my résumé was thicker than his. (Secure leaders hire people who are savvy at their skills, even more talented than the leader. Why? Because EVERYONE looks good when the plan comes together and succeeds.)

Sadly, a good, creative, promising, workable idea was strangled in the crib. Where it’s buried – in a file? – no one knows.

The show never happened. No phone calls or emails ever were returned. Messages to the CEO were tossed. The media director quietly did his job to kill the baby.

Yes, SUCCESS has many fathers. FAILURE is often an orphan. But don’t kill a GOOD IDEA before it’s had time to stand up on its own two legs.

Wisdom from Coach Dewey

In just a few days the NBA Finals will commence. It’s one of those incredible match-ups involving long storied, hated rivals – Lakers vs. Celtics.

You can imagine that the folks at NBA headquarters in NYC will be living out their fantasies for the next 10 days or so. Other than LeBron & the Cavaliers, who else would you have wanted? With each game on ABC network, the ratings – and the drama – should be tremendous.

Recently, I got an email from my old college basketball coach, The Silver Fox himself, Dewey Short. He was commenting on my promotional newsletter I send out occasionally. His little missive detailed how proud he was of one of his former players from the 1970s at what is now Bethany University (Scotts Valley, CA).

I went through 3 exhausting basketball training camps with Coach and our team, The Bruins. Countless shooting drills, running plays time and again until correct, defense exercises that made your knees weak…the works. Sometimes we thought we were going to die after running so many line drills. But we were in tremendous physical shape, and NEVER were hanging our tongues at the end of games.

More than any formal classroom, a gymnasium is a great place to learn lessons, bond with teammates and compete against challenges.

I can still remember, decades later, Coach’s words during those daily 3-5pm practices in Redwood Auditorium:

“You can always go one step further than you think you can.”

“Never jump in the air unless you know where you’re going to land.” (This was pre-Michael Jordan.)

“Long shots, long rebounds.”

“It (the hard work) will be worth it.”

“It’s always too soon to quit.”

“Do it now.”

That last bit of advice – “DO IT NOW” – was a catchphrase of Coach’s, used more often than any other wisdom.

“Do it NOW.” Don’t wait till tomorrow. Don’t leave it for another day or time. Now is the time. Just do it.

Sorry, Nike, you had nothing on The Silver Fox.

Thanks, Coach. Words well spoken. Words remembered.

Follow Through: Clean Up Your Mess

Cleaning up the little leftover details of a failed project or event is just as important, I believe, as getting a bona fide project up, running and on track.

I don’t buy into a new, younger protocol that says “if you don’t hear from me, it isn’t happening”. Don’t buy that rudeness or lack of proper communication at all. Perhaps I’m just too Old School in how one interacts with a person.

Answer your emails. Return phone calls. Follow through.

Recently, I had someone from a small, prestigious university ask about my availability to speak on Third World Filmmaking at a student filmmakers seminar. I wrote back, sure, I’m available. Glad to help, let me know.

No response.

A month goes by. I email to follow-up, and get a short response from the lead professor that they were waiting to get the dean’s permission for the seminar. So sorry, back to you ASAP. (Ah, a snag – there wasn’t funding or permission to begin with. Ok.)

Never heard from them again. 6 weeks later – with the planned event growing nearer – my 2 emails & a voice mail went unreturned.

Too busy? All it takes is just 2 minutes to write back that the seminar never materialized. Sorry, another time. Thanks for being available. That’d be more than enough for most anyone, including this blogger.

A talented professor at Biola, Lisa Swain, has a good phrase: “Ask yourself, what do I know and who needs to know it?”

This is sage advice. If you cancel a project or an event fizzles, then call back those involved in a timely manner. Email, if nothing else. Heck, text!

Silence is a terrible form of communication. Ignoring someone is even worse, for your lack of response paints you as unprofessional, disorganized and uncommunicative.

Okay, I’m off the soap box…for now.

By the way, I have a killer live presentation on Third World Filmmaking now. So, there was a silver lining after all.

Conan: Cynicism Doesn’t Lead Anywhere

Of all the talk show hosts who have a pretty legitimate beef to cry FOUL, Conan O’Brien surely ranks first in line right now.

But his recent broadcast send-off on Friday, January 22nd, leaving The Tonight Show after 7 too short months as host, was very classy.

“Please don’t be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality. It doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard – and you’re kind – amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, it’s true.”

Television is a very brutal, volatile business. It eats its young, and shoots its wounded. You can’t count on anything, even a signed contract. A person’s word means nothing. Over 40? Good luck. You’re ancient. And I can tell you from vast experience that faith-based media, sad to say, is no better.

But O’Brien’s inspiring words ring true: Don’t be cynical. Work hard. Be kind. Amazing things will happen.

With the way he signed-off, I’m more impressed with Conan’s character…than the enormous severance cheque ($33 million) he received from NBC to walk away.

Because no amount of money, large or small, can ever buy CHARACTER.

Haitian Voodoo & Me

In the 1990s, if you wanted a TV shoot done depicting voodoo practices, chances are you’d probably have contacted me. In a short amount of time I field produced shoots on voodoo in Los Angeles (for UPN’s Strange Universe) and in Havana, Cuba (“santeria” worship for A&E).

But my most challenging assignment was directing a major series of 1995 segments in and around Port au Prince, Haiti. This was part of the “Ancient Mysteries” series for A&E. The 2 hour special went on to win an Aurora Award and be nominated for an Emmy.

Haiti was – as I documented in my recent book, Commando Tactics for Digital Filmmakers – the most difficult shoot I have EVER done in my career.

Manipulation, evil spirits, demonic possession, stilted communication, trickery…the list goes on. Never have I felt forces pushing against everything I was attempting to accomplish.

Now we have the Haiti earthquake. The collapsed Presidential Palace? Been there. Hundreds of bodies buried at Hotel Montana? Stayed there. Homes and businesses reduced to mere rubble in the capital city? Drove the same streets.

Haiti is familiar to me. But their catastrophic devastation is not.

Was Pat Robertson correct in saying that Haiti made a pact with the devil centuries before to defeat Napoleon? Probably. (I had read the same history lessons when preparing for my Haiti shoot.) Did that possible arrangement mean Haitians deserved such a calamity wrought by the recent 7.0 earthquake? No.

Doesn’t matter. Because when scores of bodies are buried in rubble, timing – and message – is everything. Lost in the blogosphere confusion, and understandable anger, is the fact that Rev. Robertson’s Operation Blessing does great, compassionate relief & aid work worldwide.

But Pat needed to pick a much better moment. Or table his opinions for another decade. Pat needed to cite the God of the New Testament (Mercy!), not the God of the Old Testament (Judgment!). But Pat’s old school: that’s why he shoots from the lip.

I have my own personal theories about Haiti, including some thoughts about the country’s recurring cycle of poverty, greed and corruption. And her extremely evil tendencies.

But other far more accomplished reporters and commentators have spoken with much better wisdom about Haiti in modern times than I could ever muster.

All I know is that Haiti, and Haitians, need the world’s help.  If we as a country (USA) stood by without responding, we might lose our own humanity in the process…and our compassionate souls.

And our response so far – including the hundreds of millions of dollars of aid, medicine and financial support donated so far – is what really counts.

Never kick someone when they’re down, literally.

Who’s Ready for Profiling?

Numerous transit stops through Frankfurt Main Airport in Germany over the years have wisened me to a no nonsense European security procedure: passenger profiling.

When coming back from Africa, the Middle East or Central Asia, uniformed guards (with guns) will board the Lufthansa jetway or stand at the bottom of the ramp to “screen” fellow travelers.

Out on the cold, distant tarmac, far from the terminal, make sure you have your passport, return ticket and other documentation in order. Better have a good local contact and a plausible story.

If your name is Mustafa, you will be detained and questioned. Count on it.

I’ve witnessed this for more than a decade. In fact, I remember Israeli intelligence coming aboard our Cyprus Airways plane when we landed at Tel Aviv airport in 1972. Every passport was checked, every passenger identity scrutinized. All before the plane was eventually emptied and passengers were even allowed to line-up for immigration.

My take?

PROFILE ALL YOU WANT…if it leads to a safer airplane ride.

Your constitutional rights mean very little when you’ve just been blown to smithereens in mid-air by a Muslim extremist who wasn’t detained at Amsterdam Airport because he should have been on a NO FLY list.

Oh, by the way, safe travels in 2010!

4 Simple Principles

For the past few weeks I’ve been thinking about how so many simple principles of behavior can make a world of difference.

Here are FOUR powerful principles that I believe are far too neglected these days:

1. The Importance of a SMILE.

A great smile is very disarming. It can lighten a mood, charm an audience and speak volumes about you (plus shape perceptions of you). A wonderful smile, without a doubt, is one of the best first impressions one can ever give.

I’ve tried it in African villages, Iraqi tea houses, South American cafés and a zillion other places. I love it when people smile back.

For decades I didn’t smile nearly as often because I was too embarrassed (truth be told) by my teeth. Long story. A few years back I got all that fixed – bright & shiny.

Now I smile much more often…and laugh too. You should as well. Smile. (People will wonder what you’re up to.)

2. The Importance of THANK YOU.

I directed an infomercial a few years ago with two leading inspirational leaders who speak all over the world. They mentioned that wherever they go they try to say “Thank You” 20 times during their visit. To the receptionist. To the person picking them up at the airport. To the waitress serving them food. To just about everyone.

What a great idea. So I’ve tried to say “thanks” a lot more. Even telling a food server or flight attendent what a great job they’re doing that day…followed by “thank you.”

One  ”thank you” can move mountains. It’s a phrase I ALWAYS learn in the local language.

3. The Importance of REMEMBERING A NAME.

A few years ago, Singapore Airlines conducted a study and found that when their passengers were called by their names, customer satisfaction jumped +60%. Makes sense. People like it when you call them by their name. It makes them feel important, like an individual – not part of the herd.

Years ago I interviewed Mary Hart (Entertainment Tonight) for a video piece I was directing for a L.A. Kings charity event. I introduced myself. We did a great, quick interview on-camera about the importance of the event. Then I thanked her. She smoothly replied, “No, Thank YOU, Craig.”

18 years later, I still remember Mary Hart…and that she called me by my name. That Mary Hart, one smart cookie. Did I mention that she smiled too?

Remember to call people by their name whenever possible. It makes a HUGE impression.

4. The Importance of LISTENING.

Recently, I wrote my first book, Commando Tactics for Digital Filmmakers. An entire chapter is devoted to interviewing. What I came to realize as I was pulling quotes and writing out rough ideas is that LISTENING is one of the most important, fundamental aspects of both professional interviewing and personal conversation.

People L-O-V-E to talk about themselves. And appreciate when someone (you) listens to them. But they HATE to be interrupted. It’s discourteous. And leaves a very bad impression.

So, try to be quick to listen, and slow to speak. If you really dedicate yourself to listening patiently, people will tell you the most incredible things about themselves and their lives…good, bad & ugly.

Listening is one key principle I’ve really been working on lately. Which is why my fabulous wife asks me sometimes why I’m so quiet at a dinner table with other people.

Just listening, Rebecca. Thank You for asking! (Cue smile.)

Thank You eHarmony!

Since this is the season of Thanksgiving, I thought I would say THANKS to a group that literally changed my life: eHarmony.com.

Somewhere on my old iMac computer is one of the most important emails I have ever written in my lifetime. Put simply, I am married to Rebecca Bonilla Mangual because of an enquiry I sent to the internet dating service in late April 2003.

I had joined eHarmony the previous February, alerted by a radio ad to a 3 month, $99 sign-up special. Unimpressed with Match.com, I thought I’d give eHarmony a try. A few emails and dates later, it was going slowly, nothing truly clicking. eHarmony arranges your matches for you, filtering through your criteria of choices and dynamics to select matches that “fit” what you are looking for and have deemed significant. The process takes time, so patience is a virtue.

During those 90 days, matches come and go. You might continue to correspond with some, or decide some connections aren’t working out. Fair is fair. Matches that don’t click end up in a Closed File off to the side of your profile.

Curious one day, I opened my Closed File and came across the name of someone I’d never corresponded with - Rebecca from Huntington Beach. I clicked on Rebecca’s profile link, and up popped a picture of a beautiful woman standing in front of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, a typical tourist snapshot.

My first thought was: I don’t remember ever connecting with Rebecca. The next thought was, hey, I’d like to meet her…even if we don’t hit it off, we can certainly have a cup of coffee and talk about Paris, my favorite city.

So, I did something very bold – I wrote to eHarmony to ask whether I could re-connect with Rebecca somehow. In my email I left open the possibilities that perhaps I had closed the match, she had closed it, or that even corresponding might be taboo. No matter, I would honor their response and decision to my request. But I just felt Rebecca was worth the try.

No risk, no reward.

An hour or two later I received a very nice reponse from an eHarmony customer service rep, who explained that normally “closed” matches remained that way – closed. It was policy. But that she would – as a courtesy – send an email to Rebecca to see what she thought.

A week went by when, out-of-the-blue, I received an encouraging email from the same rep that Rebecca had emailed back to say she would like to reopen the match with me. Amazing…and wonderful. (It turned out Rebecca had closed ALL her matches because she was so busy with her career.)

About a day later, she and I had jumped through the numerous eHarmony hoops to exchange our email addresses and phone numbers. Then we spent the next 3 nights talking on the telephone before even meeting for a date. These were long, great conversations, ending with prayer each time.

The 2-3 hours talking by phone per night – before actually dating – were a bonus, for we used this time to get to know each other better. Likes, dislikes, siblings, school, family, career. It was lots of fun conversation, and made the anticipation of finally meeting even greater.

Long story short, we began dating the following week, engaged 5 months later, married the following April 2004. I took Rebecca to Paris for our honeymoon (plus a week in Italy).

Sometimes, I look back at that courageous email and think, what if? What if I hadn’t sent the email? What if eHarmony said NO. What if Rebecca didn’t want to bother with my request at all?

But all of those “what ifs” don’t really matter.

I did write the email. eHarmony did go the extra step to help (above the call of duty). And Rebecca was intrigued by this gringo guy in West L.A. that really wanted to meet her. Even if it was, initially, just to talk about travel.

The rest is history…and has led to a great, deep, romantic friendship, relationship and marriage to a beautiful, incredible woman.

Thanks eHarmony!

And thanks, Rebecca, for saying YES.

Best Little Paris Restaurant You’ve Never Heard Of

Les Fêtes Galantes

This Friday night, Oct. 23rd, I will be eating in my absolute favorite restaurant in the world: Les Fêtes Galantes. I can already taste the lamb or veal shanks, the pâté and the rich desserts. I am virtually salivating as I write. Quietly tucked along a dark, nameless Parisian street within almost spitting distance of the Pantheon, this little hole-in-the-wall place serves sensational French food with exquisite taste and panache – all for a fraction of the price of a BIG NAME bistro in the guidebooks.

I have dined here perhaps 10x over 13 years now, since 1996. That was the year my then 11 year old son, Andrew, and I were searching for a good meal in the Latin Quarter (Rive Gauche) in the 5th arrondissement of Paris one crisp, chilly night.

The front desk clerk at the St. Jacque Hotel (where we were staying) on Rue des Ecoles highly recommended our walking just 3 blocks up the street, then to turn left. He said to skip the pizza and have a French meal we’d truly remember.  Mai Oui! – was he right. I should have thanked him profusely. Perhaps even kissed him on both cheeks later.

Les Fêtes has just 11 tables and is tiny. I’ve seen walk-in closets bigger. There are business cards and cut out photos taped to the walls. It’s an eclectic place that grows on you. Don’t kill the messenger but women have been known to leave their brassieres for the chef, Bibi, who has a very unique sense of humour, hanging their lingerie in the rafters. Then again, do not expect all the arrogance of the Michelin star chefs. This is straightforward French fare cooked with simple creativity at a  reasonable – for Paris – price.

The chef, Bibi, is not French but from Egypt. And the food he serves is fabulous. I use that word sparingly. But it’s true: La cuisine? C’est tres tres bon! Bibi has 3 levels of fixed priced 3 course meals. Go for at least the mid-priced one and you will NOT be disappointed. The desserts – and Rebecca knows this all too well – are to die for. The word CHOCOLATE will have a new meaning.

You have to get there before 8pm to get a table. Anything later and you’ll stand in line. They don’t take credit cards, and the tables are cheek-by-jowl next to other diners, so close you can finish someone else’s conversation. Within that cozy atmosphere, I have sat and talked to patrons just feet away from me who have waxed eloquent about their dining sojourns to Les Fêtes.

On our very first visit, a student from La Sorbonne confessed that he saved up his francs to dine at Les Fêtes whenever he could…a meal there had become his pilgrimage. I didn’t subscribe to his addiction at first, but I understood his convictions after just one tantalizing meal. I, too, became hooked. Still am. So, after Friday, I will have dragged Rebecca 3x to eat there, and she indulges me. Anneke, now 18, has been there 2x. Lucky pup.

They say that people either eat to live…or live to eat. I’m the latter. Doesn’t make me a Foodie. But as my waistline can attribute, I know my way around a knife and fork. One of the perks of world travel is to try new foods, flavours and cuisines.

In the mid to late 90s, I travelled through Paris frequently on my way to Africa. My usual overnight stop was the Hyatt Hotel at Charles des Gaulle airport. On late Saturday afternoons I’d take the RER train into central Paris just to eat at Les Fêtes, then head back into the night on the train to the Hyatt to sleep, then catch my Sunday morning  flight to the Dark Continent. The long journey into the city for a very special meal at Les Fêtes was worth it. Good memories.

I could – and can – write far more descriptive phrases about the casual atmosphere and Bibi’s superb cuisine. But will leave the following links below to do my explaining. Click and enjoy.

But I WILL be enjoying every morsel on Friday night. Join us?

http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g187147-d1427207-Reviews-Les_Fetes_Galantes-Paris_Ile_de_France.html

http://www.igougo.com/dining-reviews-b143034-Paris-Les_Fetes_Galantes.html

http://www.parlerparis.com/issues/pparis22-10-03.html

http://www.colleensparis.com/Colleens_Paris_Restaurants.htm

Blame it on Gretzky!

Wayne Gretzky

October 3rd marks a small but seminal event in my life: I start my 20th year as a season ticket holder for the L.A. Kings hockey team. We play the Phoenix Coyotes tomorrow night. Which is fitting, as their managing partner (and former coach) is Wayne Gretzky, The Great One.

When Gretzky was traded on August 9, 1988 from the Edmonton Oilers to the Los Angeles Kings, the landscape of hockey changed forever for both the United States and warm weather cities. His arrival in the Southland resulted in the Anaheim Ducks being born and the transferral of half of the Minnesota North Stars becoming the San Jose Sharks in the early 90s. #99 black and silver jerseys became the rage back in the late 80s, just like Kobe jerseys are today.

I am part Canadian (dad) and part Texan (mom). The Canadian side of me – that’s loved hockey since I discovered at age 12 the immortal Bobby Orr – now took notice of the Kings at age 32. And with my move from Duarte to the Fairfax district of L.A, in October ’88, I was now only 9 miles from the Forum rather than 42 miles. In the winter of ’89-’90 I bought a 10 game mini-plan (along with good buddy, Jimmy Hodson). Then went whole hog with a full season in Sept. 1990.

Gretzky’s impact was immeasurable. When he played, he was considered larger than hockey itself, just like Michael Jordan and Reggie Jackson, who transcended their sports to become more than just great basketball and baseball players. Stars of this caliber attract crowds, fill stadiums, go on talk shows, meet presidents. Wherever Gretzky went, the arenas were packed. Being a Kings’ ticket holder was chic. Tickets were in great demand. Sellouts were common.

On a personal level – until #99 was traded to the St. Louis Blues in March 1996 – I had the opportunity to watch Wayne play for nearly 7 seasons. He was and is the greatest player I have ever seen. For he instantly made everyone on the ice better, much like Magic Johnson did with the Lakers. Gretzky’s playmaking abilities were so fine that many novice hockey fans missed the quiet subtlety of his prolific goals, passes and vision. It was a true pleasure to watch the man glide down the ice or set-up “office” behind the opposing goaltender’s net.

To be sure, life as a Kings’ fan has had its ups and downs since 1996. The new downtown arena – Staples Center – is a cavernous barn that you could shoot a cannon through. Its been our home for 10 years, and serves the sport well, when not playing host to the Lakers, Clippers, Sparks, award shows and concerts.

As I’ve moved around greater L.A. and Orange County, the trek to Staples has been both easy and hard: 9 miles from West L.A., 25 miles from Fullerton, 14 miles from Playa Vista, 34 miles from Brea, and now 39 miles from Costa Mesa. Getting there is challenging, home at 10 p.m. easy.

But I still enjoy a hockey night out.  I figure that I’ve seen at least 400 live games over the 2 decades. Everyone, they say, needs a hobby. Mine is hockey. And – through the urging of my gorgeous wife, Rebecca – we’ve got pretty good seats now. No nose bleeds.

My daughter, Anneke, loves hockey too, having been raised on the game since in diapers. How she ever grew to become a Detroit Red Wings fan brings constant questioning, utter shame and painful pity to my eternal soul.

Just as with Cubs fans, we Kings’ die-hards have some real hope for this year. The team is finally on the rise after 4-5 seasons of mediocrity. Our core of young players is the best in the NHL: Drew Doughty, Jonathan Quick, Anze Kopitar, Wayne Simmonds, Dustin Brown, Alexander Frolov and Jack Johnson are skilled and talented. And a few good impact players – Justin Williams, Ryan Smyth and Rob Scuderi – arrived through signings and  trades recently. We have the true potential for a really solid team, one that should get into the playoffs and, perhaps, do some serious damage.

So, when you’re safely snug in your bed on most Thursday and Saturday nights – or popping popcorn and plopping on the couch – remember my L.A. Kings for just a moment. Say a little prayer for them:

“May their skates move swiftly, the power-play goals (for us) be plentiful, may our goalie cover the pipes with a perfect calmness. Lord help us to stay out of the dreaded penalty box, score on every 2-on-1 breakaway and may we always win every fight. Amen.” 

Then, with my full permission, please feel free to go back to whatever you were doing.

And remember, it was Gretzky’s fault all along.