Notes on Being Morgans 9-14-2013

These notes were saved as possible material for the celebration of Dad's life at a Memorial service at St. Luke's Catholic Church in Lakewood, Ohio.

Once upon a time, long ago in a land called Lakewood, there lived a family called Morgan.  They had everything!

They had cars (including a Lincoln Continental and two Cutlass Supreme Oldsmobiles).  The Wasmers finally won the Lincoln because they had the wherewithal to keep up with spare parts. Rod Varney’s vintage Impala looked out of place on our driveway but Mike Blake’s Corvette Stingray (rescued and refurbished from the family junk yard) looked pretty cool as did Greg’s Triumph MG (until he totaled it). By the way, Normile Insurance must have love the Morgans. 

They has cameras (and all the Kodak film they ever needed) and carrousel projectors galore. The cameras were on loan from Morgan Studio and shot images in 2 ¼ X  2 ¼, 35 MM, Slides, B&W and Color.  

They had Bicycles (mostly Schwinns – they were repaired and tires were checked every spring at the Schwinn shop on Detroit Street). They also had a portable gadget bike with little wheels. Ridiculous. Dad bought that bike when he saw it advertised in a newspaper. When the novelty wore off he gave it to me. I hated that bike. Often, the bikes were lost and stolen but because they had Lakewood license stickers – more often than not they were recovered. My son Ben took a Yellow Schwinn with a Lakewood license dated 1982 to college. That bike was older than he was but he was happy to have it. (Until was stolen, of course. Miami probably doesn’t routinely call the Lakewood PD if and when…)

They had sporting equipment - Tennis racquets (mostly Jack Kramer Autograph models), Footballs, Rawlings Baseball Mitts, Bats and Baseballs (for hardball or whiffle ball play). Golf clubs – a closet full of mismatched sets. They had basketballs too. Their garage had an inviting hoop and net set up. A good idea to lift the garage doors though so you don’t break any more windows. ( As many times as I saw Dad fix a broken window pane – I never mastered the art of getting the glass cut to size and the putty just right in repair) They had Hockey Equipment too. (Mom and Dad were not ALL IN for Hockey like they were for Golf and Tennis…Something about ice time at 2 am made them a little suspicious I think)

They had Musical Instruments: including a trumpet, a guitar, a banjo, a drum set and a baby grand Piano. (No one in that family has any musical talent. Except Greg – But I ask you - Do drums really count as a musical instrument?)

They had garden tools and two lawn mowers (but zero gardeners). They had plenty rakes and snow shovels. They had a leaf sweeper and a wheel-barrel. They even had one of those edgers you could trim where the grass meets the driveway.

They had a mountain of Tonka trucks. They came in handy if you needed to throw something up at the Buckeye tree in the front yard to get a Frisbee unstuck.   

They had cap guns and rolls and rolls of caps. (Most of which would be bashed with big rocks or carpenter hammers on 4^th of July weekend. What is the fun of a pop pop pop when you can risk hearing loss with a big kaboom). This only satisfied the quest for noise until we figured out the black market for firecrackers and M-80s .

They had board games  – Life, Risk, Clue and others, But it was Monopoly that was repurchased to keep up the money supply, tokens and requisite number of die on hand (you need two to play that game). 

They had closets full of practical outerwear. They had boots (galoshes), rubbers,  hats, scarves, mittens, gloves, coats for snow and rain. Windbreakers, sweaters (the ugly sweaters we got for Christmas - we wore on paper routes before sunrise – never to school).    

They had records. LPs of Broadway shows (like Oliver, The Sound of Music, The Music Man, Judy Collins (Clouds), comedy albums (like Allen Sherman’s Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda and the First Family album with Vaughn Meador and company). Lynn had a bunch of 45’s – the Beatles, Beach Boys, The Turtles (Happy Together), Petula Clark (downtown) and Nancy Sinatra (These boots are made for walkin’).

They had a Ping Pong table in the basement which was great (if you wanted to play Rob (again) or if you, instead wanted someplace for you and your friends to put their sixpacks of Stroh’s 3.2 beer.

They had Silver Crazy amounts of silver goblets, tea pots, trays, bowls, flatware (forks, spoons, knives),  so much so they had to ask a housekeeper (Anna Benson, Annie Avery, Estelle) to polish the stuff. The housekeeper did the laundry too for all those kids.  Estelle was the best at ironing shirts. Anna had gang green and lost a leg, Annie Avery got Cancer (she was a woman of faith). They were a part of our family and a part of our family routine. (Nobody made a better Fried Balogna Sandwich than Anna Benson.)

They had Uncles – Phil and Al on Mom’s side and John, Andrew and David on Dad’s side. David is still with us (Maybe he is the greatest of the great. Too young to be a part of WWII. Until he passed, he was the surviving member of our parents generation. Which, in a way is poetic, because David cared the most about staying connected with all of us.

They had talent – (and still do.)

Sundance can act.  And - He can teach you to focus on the zen of recreational tennis.  

Lynn knows how to sell – If you think you need eye glasses – she’ll convince you that you need two pair.

Dan is a visual artist and a master of social media. Dan is the ultimate connector. He is as comfortable hanging out with Little Steven of Bruce Springsteen’s e-street band as he hosting an event for emerging artists at Tower Press or Gallery 22. Truly a blend of commercial artist and fine artist in his own right.

Greg has used his degree in Education (originally because those classes had more girls) as a strategic platform for a career in Commercial Real Estate. Greg can sing and he is President of the Tampa chapter of the American Red Cross. (He has real life life-saving experiences to his credit.) He once hosted his own version of Jeopardy for 250 of his closest friends in Tampa.

Rob is the only Morgan with the humility and credibility to manage someone else’s business. He really is the BEST. Mostly (I submit) because as the youngest you get to witness the mistakes of your older siblings. You also avoid the traps. Somehow Rob knew his success was going to be a product of hard work. (I love you ROBO but you are remarkable more because of your effort than your potential.) Maybe that is part of the trick too. (All of us kept lowering the bar of expectation for you.)

Me – I am a poet and writer. (Mostly I believe the truth really is stranger than fiction and one other thing my mom taught me “The truth belongs to the teller” – or at least the most widely believed version of the truth …No matter how many times she said it, I just cannot bring myself to believe that Greg was such a savant that he fixed the vacuum cleaner when he was just 3 years old. And I don’t want to make allowances for Dan just because he is sooooooo sensitive).

  

They had great parties – Parties for weddings, parties for wakes (Grammy Lawton’s was a fitting celebration for that 100% Irish Catholic side of our family). Grammy Lawton passed away when  I was in 5^th Grade (I remember because I was hard at work on a report on the great state of Alaska as the house filled up with friends and family showing sympathy for Grammy’s wake.) And St. Patrick’s Day was legendary (Mom and Dad loved that holiday).  Cast Parties, Parties for the Lakewood High School team (players and coaches). And, of course, a number of parties when our parents weren’t home. (Those always with a degree of risk.)

They belonged to the Cleveland Yachting Club and they had a big boat – But they didn’t have as much fun at the Beverstocks. No-one learned how to sail (really) – at least not like Tom Bernard – a true sailer. (He would say that nothing was better than “a beer in one hand, a tiller in the other hand and a joint in the other hand”). None of the Morgans wanted to be on the swim team (although they did compete occasionally for CYC).  Dad swam two lengths of the pool underwater to show that he could. And in spite of belief to the contrary the official number #836 (with which you could sign for food – billed later to your account) was used sparingly.

They had charge accounts – Ask Lynn. You need sporting goods or a smart outfit for Lakewood High…Just put it on the Morgan account at Charlie Gieger’s. And Rosie’s Wine House was quick to respond when the bat call went out for 15106 Edgewater Drive. Morgan Studio accounts at Bonfoey’s Frame Shop. Kohler Brothers for hardware (anything from Dowl Pins which would be cut down for Bonne Bell Lipsmackers package design options to plywood and nails to make room for more production space at the studio). The Tom Schmitt Shell account was not a frivolous one. When asked upon determining the need for oil an attendent might ask “Want the good stuff Mr. Morgan?” the response was “No, put the cheap stuff in it.”

They did what they could to fuel the economy – but they were frugal in many ways. The guy that sold us firewood came to the door one winter. Dad asked “How much do you charge?” The answer, “$125 a cord Mr. Morgan.” To which dad responds “Fine, give me $100 worth.” Whenever possible the family haircuts came wholesale with Dad working the buzzer. (Later Rob tried to cut his own hair with some sort of TV hair trimming gadget. Dad tried to fix it but even he and  Mom agreed that Rob could stay home from school if he wanted to wait until some hair grew back. That was quite a bald spot gash he engineered with that hair whiz.)

They lived in a big house – They lived in a lot of square feet. The living room consisted in about 30% no-fly zone, however,  when we were little. Eventually we earned permission to sit in guest area couches. That history was lost on my 2 year old Lindsey (obviously because of bad parenting she insisted on standing on a coffee table.) That was the year of the Boston College QB Doug Flutie threw a Hail Mary pass that beat the previous national champions Miami  (11/23/1984 Thanksgiving week). By the way Bernie Kozar (Miami’s QB) had a pretty good day passing day as well that day.  

JOCM (7-21-1918 to 8-20-2013)

James O’Connell Morgan

(July 21, 1918 – August 20, 2013)

James O’Connell Morgan was an artist, a veteran of WWII, a loyal husband and father of six. Morgan was founder of Morgan Studio in Cleveland, Ohio, the advertising, art and photography business he started and ran for the better part of four decades. The Cleveland native, later in life, lived in the village of Key Biscayne, Miami Florida and Keller, Texas with his wife Mary until her passing in May of 2011. He then moved to Tampa, Florida.   

He Graduated from St. Ignatius High School in Cleveland. (He was an average student, but showed early talent as a promising artist and illustrator.) He Graduated from John Carroll University where he was a Three-year letter winner and two-year starter as both offensive and defensive lineman on John Carroll's first and only Big Four championship team in 1939. Team record was 13-3-1 (.794) in his two years as a starter. (He was 60-minute Morgan in football at John Carroll University in Cleveland). Years after he graduated, he was installed in JCU’s sports Hall of Fame.

He studied at Pratt Institute of Design in New York where he began to solidify his career path before the call of military duty caused him to take a detour. The year at Pratt and the time he spent in New York City influenced him greatly.

He was a soldier during World War II. First enlisting and later entering officer candidate school (OCS). He served as a leader of a camouflage unit and led Black troops (at a time when the army was still segregated). He went wherever they asked him to go and yet was able to stay out of harm’s way. He served his country with honor for over four years.

After his time in the U.S. Army, he began his career at Malmquist Studio as a commercial artist until he left to start his own business in Cleveland, Ohio. He founded Morgan Studio in 1951 as “the architects of the printed page.” He was convinced that design was a noble and worthy profession. Along the way, Morgan Studio served a roster of blue chip clients including Ohio Bell Telephone, Youngstown Steel Door, Cleveland Electric Illuminating Company, L’erin Cosmetics, Ernst & Ernst, Glidden Paint, Stouffers Restaurants, Lake Erie Screw Corporation, Mooney Chemicals, Cleveland Federal Savings and Bonne Bell Cosmetics.

He was a devoted husband to Mary Francis Lawton Morgan (Jim and Mary were married in December of 1942 –Mary died May 2011. They were married for nearly 70 years.)

James O’C. Morgan and his wife had six children: Sundance (formerly James O’Connell Morgan Jr. – born 1944), Mary Lynn (born 1952), Wesley (born 1955), Gregory (born 1956), Daniel (Born 1958) and Robert Morgan (born 1959). 

James is survived by nine grandchildren:

Lynn’s children
James O’Connell Varney   
Philip Varney
(James was married to Susan. They adopted two children - Colleen and Lane)

Wes’ children
Lindsey Lawton Morgan (married to Robert Christopher Dewey)
John Benjamin Morgan (married Allison Farrar)
(Wes is married to Lynn and they have two grandchildren born in 2016 - Robert Lawton Dewey and James Benjamin Morgan)

Greg’s children
Wesley Morgan
Matthew Morgan

(Greg is married to Ellen and has two stepchildren, Lauren and Michael)

Rob’s children
Megan Morgan
Tara Morgan
Kevin Morgan
(Rob is married to Joy)

Memorial service at St. Luke's Catholic Church in Lakewood, Ohio on September 14, 2013.

Fearless Brand Workshop

Bill Ellis didn’t twist my arm to join his workshop at the Missouri Athletic Club West this week. In fact, I was thrilled to be invited, even though I was not completely sure what to expect. Visiting over coffee a few weeks ago, he had described The Fearless Brand Workshop event as something that might help me sort out a few things with my professional life and maybe even offer a few hints for my personal business as well. I am a cynical marketing guy so naturally I am careful to not take such claims too literally.

I first encountered Bill as a presenter at an event organized by Dixie Gillaspie (a.k.a. Ms. Dynamite) in October of 2011. At that event I also met the co-authors of The Go Giver (Bob Berg and John David Mann), The Name Tag Guy (Scott Ginsberg), MarketVolt founder (Tom Ruwich), a Manifestation Maven (Kimberly Schneider), an acrtivist (Dafna Michaelson Jenet), writer (Jeremy Nulik), a photographer (Caren Libby) and some other remarkable people. (All worthy of character sketches and remarks of which space is not allotted here.)  

I have since watched Bill present to large groups of 200 or more and smaller groups under 50 and even more intimate settings with 5 or six people. He is authentic. As a 25 year veteran of Anheuser-Busch he has every right to claim expertise as a brand specialist. But it is what he has done since leaving AB in 10+ years that is an even better measure of his character. It is that decade in which he has earned the right to call himself a coach and mentor. It is a unique combination of experiences and his life journey that makes him more than qualified to help people find their own path to self discovery.

It is apparent that Bill Ellis is hoping for miracles. Like any coach you want the plays to work just as they have been drawn up. Faith alone, unfortunately, is not enough. It takes virtues Hope and Love too. But Bill is bringing it. I am proud to have been in the room to see it. Butcher, Baker, Candle-stick maker, Entrepreneur, Corporate Middle Manager and Me (I’m concealing professions and names to protect the innocent). We were a cross-section of people all looking to Bill and the Fearless Branding process as a map to self discovery. I can only speak for myself. I have a way to go.  I do appreciate, however, Bill framing the challenge in marketing and business terms with periodic insights into his own journey. That reality tends to draw participants out. Bottom line: It ain’t easy. You need help. You aren’t alone. You are unique. You can provide value. Be a fearless brand.

Geaux. Geaux. Geaux.

    

 

Is the Digital Tail Wagging the Ad Dog?

This past week, advertising giants Omnicom and Publicis said they have agreed to merge. My heavens: Will the Mad Men of yesterday soon be unable to hide behind brand positioning, the art of superior creativity or even the clubby comfort of deals made over martinis on Madison Avenue? It is not just about Unique Selling Propositions anymore. It is a whole new game and, frankly this reaction to the marketplace could be the beginning of the end for the once proud and exclusive Ad Biz. 

In a statement disclosing the deal, the Publicis CEO, Maurice Lévy, noted that "the communication and marketing landscape has undergone dramatic changes in recent years, including the exponential development of new media giants, the explosion of Big Data, blurring of the roles of all players and profound changes in consumer behavior."

The Wall Street Journal suggests that the marriage of Omnicom Group (of the U.S.) and Publicis (headquartered in France) is aimed at restoring the balance of power between advertising agencies and such Silicon Valley companies as Google and Facebook. Well maybe, just maybe, Madison Avenue is finally paying for a pattern of hoodwinking clients and snake oil salesmanship. But, maybe, just maybe, technology doesn’t make it better. Could it be that soon we’ll be turning marketing decisions over to an automated analysis as fishy as the derivatives that ultimately caused so much disruption during the financial crisis? Like that financial voo-doo we might find ourselves compelled to place our trust in software that does our thinking for us.     

According to eMarketer, the share of global ad spending in digital media is projected to grow to 27% by 2017. Clearly the business is moving to firms such as Salesforce.com and Adobe and are moving more into areas that are new competition for ad agencies."All of these tech players didn't exist, didn't compete, even on the fringes of our business, even five years ago," says Omnicom's CEO, JohnWren. said in an interview. The merger, he said, will "create a lot of opportunities for us, some defensive and some offensive."

Stay tuned for the clash of the titans. Madison Avenue vs. Silicon Valley. Will it be the tail wagging the dog? Or will it be Dog eat Dog? We will see soon enough as this business world saga unfolds. 

A Matter of Interpretation

Jim Jordan lead a workshop at the Visitors’ Center in Forest Park today (Friday July 12, 2013). He is a senior coordinator at the School of Professional and Continuing Studies at the University of Missouri at St. Louis (UMSL). Jim is a 20+ year veteran of the St. Louis Zoo and something of a Renaissance man (He lives in a solar powered home, is a home brewer of craft beer, a bee-keeper and generally an interesting human being.) Gina Ganahi the Associate Dean was also part of the four hour workshop attended by an interesting cross-section of docents, volunteers and others involved in presenting their respective institutions to the public. Laumeier Sculpture Park was well represented along with individuals from Henry Shaw House, Botanical Gardens and The St. Louis Art Museum. In all, about 30 people in attendance.  

Jim Jordan began his presentation with some thought from Freeman Tilden, who is widely regarded at the father of Interpretation. He said, “Interpretation is an informational and inspirational process which reveals a larger truth that lies behind any statement of fact. It is a way of adding personal meaning and relevance of your subject for your audience.” Jim added the following thoughts: “Interpreters interpret the language of meaning! Interpretation asks the questions Why do I want my audience to know this? and What do I want my audience to do with this? It satisfies the question of "so what?" and “ Interpretation is a communication process that forges emotional and intellectual connections between the interests of the audience and the inherent meanings in the resource.” That last quote coming from the National Association of Interpretation (NAI).

Jim helped the group understand the difference between Interpretation and Education suggesting that certainly part of it is the audience being Captive vs. Non-Captive. But also the nature of accountability. (An educator who is expected to teach will be held to a different level than a volunteer engaging visitors to an museum for example.) However, good educators and good Interpreters share many of the same attributes and methods.

We were introduced to the concept of the Interpretive Triangle = Audience + Resource + Objective.

Audience Motivations and Reasons why they visit an institution/site: A combination of cognitive, affective and often psychomotor (Physical) Domains. To further illustrate the interpretive triangle, Jim offered a little insight into the St. Louis Zoo.  

Saint Louis Zoo – The zoo’s mission is summarized as “Animals Always” (It includes the ideas of conserving animals and their habitats through animal management, research, recreation and education). But the institution also needs to have a good idea why People come to the Zoo. Jim Jordan shared the topline results of the research among visitors to the Zoo. The  study on visitor motivation resulted in some interesting groupings:

“Explorers” are curiosity-driven and seek to learn more about what they encounter;

“Facilitators” focused primarily on enabling the experience and learning of others in their accompanying social group. Moms primary planner for family going to Zoo;

“Professional/Hobbyists” feel a close tie between the institution’s content and their professional/hobbyist passions (may or may not involve seeking information from you);

“Experience Seekers” primarily derive satisfaction from the visit (often in social group);

“Spiritual Pilgrims” are primarily seeking a contemplative and/or restorative experience

This report only scratches the surface of the interpretation workshop covered in the four hours. In fact, the four hours passed too quickly to fully explore many of the topics but I think the volunteers in that room left with a renewed sense of value and commitment to their respective activities. Thank You Jim Jordan! 

*Freeman Tilden (August 22, 1883 – May 13, 1980) was one of the first people to set down the principles and theories of Heritage Interpretation in his 1957 book, Interpreting Our Heritage. His work with the United States National Park Service inspired generations of interpreters around the world and continues to be a definitive text for the discipline.

Note: Laumeier Sculpture Park was well represented in this workshop with docents Ann Bauer, Barb Flunker, Janet Peterson, Mary Drury, June Shaw, Wes Morgan in attendance.

What Would Vonnegut Do?

I am a big fan of Vonnegut. The author known as Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. was a writer who would blend satire, gallows humor and science fiction. I was introduced to him as Slaughterhouse Five was required reading in my Freshman English class at the University of Miami in Coral Gables, Florida. Recently I listened to Slaughterhouse Five and the Kurt Vonnegut Jr. autobiography on audio CDs. His life and achievements are remarkable.     

Vonnegut was a WWII veteran, a prisoner of war and survivor of the fire bombings at Dresden, Germany all in his early 20s, as a young man. The bombing of Dresden by the Royal Air Force (RAF) and the United States Army Air Forces (USAAF) between February 13 and February 15 in 1945 remains a controversial Allied action of the Western European theatre of war.  

After the war he became a corporate public relations man. By the mid-1950s, on the verge of abandoning writing, Vonnegut was offered a teaching job at the University of Iowa Writers' Workshop. While he was there, Cat's Cradle became a best-seller, and he began Slaughterhouse-Five (now considered one of the best American novels of the 20th century).

Vonnegut was part of the WWII generation but it was about five years after it was originally published when I was reading Slaughterhouse Five for the first time. The United States was withdrawing from Viet Nam. Vonnegut wrote: “And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned into a pillar of salt. So it goes.”   

 Vonnegut said, “Being a Humanist means trying to behave decently without expectation of rewards or punishment after you are dead.” He died in 2007 and his books remain enormously popular on college campuses. Slaughterhouse Five will always be a favorite of mine. Thanks Kurt. So it goes.   

Keeping my Shoes Tied

Sister Francesca noticed me coming in late and with almost no notice managed to whack me on the side of the face. It sort of stunned me, but to be honest, it wasn’t a brutal blow to the head as much as it was a surprise. I was in eighth grade and I guess I assumed it to be a fair warning about my tardiness. St. Luke’s was my school for grades one through eight. That was nine years for me. (I repeated the first grade. Sister Francesca was my first first grade teacher and eventually the school Principal.)

Sister Francesca (in first grade) made a bargain with me I will never forget. If I could keep my shoes tied for a full day she would award me a holy card. By applying double knot strategy to both of my shoe strings the next day I was able to deliver on the challenge. She hardly noticed but I was bold enough to remind her. I was the recipient of a Mary, Mother of Jesus holy card. (Quite an accomplishment for a clever underachiever like myself.)          

Sister Francesca expected a lot from me. She was my first grade teacher (the first time). By the time I met with her wrath on the staircase that day I was tardy in grade eight, she was the principal of the school. (Sister Francesca made it a point to mention that the spelling of principal ended in PAL. She wanted me to grasp that principle I guess.)

My mother and Sister Francesca had to decide together about whether or not to promote me to the second grade. They must have been unsure of my readiness but wanted to make a careful decision. Holding me back meant I would be in the same grade as my younger brother Greg at that parochial Catholic school in Lakewood, Ohio. 

A two week experimental start in grade two in Ms. Victory’s class resulted in a speedy confirmation that I was, in Ms. Victory’s professional opinion, NOT ready for grade two. So like the minor league player that moves up for a “cup of coffee” I was sent back to grade one for more development. My brother Greg (just a year younger) was always in another section but from that point on we were in the same grade.

I was put on the spot when classmates wanted an explanation. “Are you guys twins or something?” My way of diffusing the embarrassment was to make light of it all. “I flunked the first grade.” If I owned it and delivered the line well enough, it took on the tone of self-deprecating humor. I learned early on that facing defeat in such a way was disarming. Kids can be cruel at that age but you win if you can outsmart them by showing that you are not vulnerable. I was of course, but this defense mechanism made me seem less of a target I guess.

Maybe I was a late starter, because by grade three I was a teacher’s pet and by grades four and five I was excelling in most subjects. Never a whiz kid but generally recognized as creative and a reasonably good student the rest of the way at St. Luke’s. By the time I was playing CYO football in the eighth grade I was like the Mean Joe Greene of the St. Luke’s Crusaders Lightweight Football Team. (I actually had to lose weight to play but in doing so I was still the biggest kid on the field.)    

So in a kind of weird way I have to thank my pal the principal, Sister Francesca for who I am today.