On the road to visit Bam-Bam

A Florida road trip is just not a proper road trip. A proper road trip should take place as much as possible on state or county routes or other two-lane highways. Florida is the ultimate Interstate Highway state. They are everywhere and often it is all but impossible to get from A to B without spending at least part of the trip on I-something.

Going anywhere in south Florida for me demands a run through Orlando that is a one-hour, bumper-to-bumper, 70-mile-per-hour NASCAR simulation on a good day; on a bad day it is a 90 minute slog behind an endless string of minivans and SUVs, filled with kids, driven by Midwesterners and Canadians, each one searching for Disney World, Universal Studios or Bibleland (official name: Holy Land Experience). However, they all intuitively know the one unbreakable Florida traffic law: slower moving traffic keeps to the left.

If you do find a back road worth driving you will find the parts of Florida Tosh.0 describes as “flat, hot and dumb,” not that you can see anything because you will now be behind either an RV, an SUV pulling a boat or jet-ski, a landscaping crew in a king cab pulling a trailer loaded with eight lawnmowers, a full sized pesticide van, an F-150 4x4 jacked up at least 24 inches, or a Ram Heavy-duty with four tires on the rear axle. If you pass it, another will be right there in front of you. If you are the first car stopped at a light, three of them will turn from the cross street into your intended path as you wait helplessly for the green.

Thank God for the blues. I had a couple of Roadhouse episodes on the iPod and heard some good new (to me) stuff including Doug MacLeod and Chainsaw Dupont.

I went down to Ft. Myers to see my former Fortune colleague Bruce McNaughton, now 77 and retired; that’s him above. He may be the most memorable character I’ve ever known and no one I know was ever better able to force a major corporation to shape itself around his idea of how to do his job. I learned a lot from him over the years and I wanted to ask him a few questions for a writing project I’m working on. That’s going to take some time to complete, but you might enjoy a short anecdote that sheds a good deal of light on the essence of the man.

It was 1980 and I had just joined the ad sales staff at Fortune. I was 31 which was then pretty young for the job. One quiet afternoon Bruce’s 300-pound, bald countenance suddenly filled my office doorway.

“What are you doing right now kid?” he bellowed, which was his soft voice.

“Nothing special. Why?”

“Come with me. I want to show you how to treat a customer.”

I grabbed my suit coat and followed him down the hall, down the elevator and through the lobby of the Time-Life Building. We crossed 6^th Avenue past Radio City. Bruce, often referred to as BAM (an acronym for his full name: Bruce Angus McNaughton) carried a gift-wrapped box which I was sure held a bottle of Glenfiddich single malt Whisky.

“Where are we going?”

“BBDO” he shouted over his shoulder as I struggled to keep up. At Fifth Avenue he turned north in front of Sak’s.

“I thought we were going to BBDO” I asked. ”Why are we going uptown?”

“I need to pick up the rest of the parade.”

At 54^th Street there was a busker dressed in full Scottish garb – kilt, sporran, tam – the works -- playing the bagpipes, a tip box at his feet. Bruce handed him a twenty and commanded him to follow us as we turned towards Madison and continued our journey to BBDO.

We entered their building and in those pre-9/11 days there were no ID checks or other formalities. We got in an elevator and Bruce punched 18. At 16 the last people in the car who were not part of our little parade got out. As soon as the doors closed Bruce shouted, “Hit it!”

I simply lack the words to describe what it feels like to be in an enclosed elevator car inches from a bagpiper in full throttle. I’ll just say it’s nothing I recommend unless you’re the sort of person who sits in the first row of the Daytona 500 without ear protection and enjoys it.

The doors opened on the executive floor of BBDO and the world stood still. The receptionist rose half way up and froze in her place. We marched out of the car and past her without a pause; Bruce in the lead followed by the piper and then me. I felt like the guy the Second City cast had pulled out of the audience to be a part of some unfathomable improvisation. I nodded sheepishly to the receptionist who looked right through me.

We entered the office space and time stopped. The pipe’s volume ended all phone calls and conversations instantly. It was as if someone had pushed the ignition button on an F-16 inside the building. Heads popped up from cubes. Closed office doors opened and open doors filled with gob-smacked faces.

We turned down one corridor and then another until we reached a corner office where the object of our visit stood slack-jawed in awe of the approaching chaos. I’ve long since forgotten who he was; he could not have been too important or Bruce would have worn his full Scottish kit as well. This fellow was important, but ranked only a bottle of Glenfiddich and a serenade. When I visited Bruce last week he confirmed that he made this sort of musical presentation a number of times and he did not recall this particular event.

But I can guarantee you that the recipient never forgot it, or the man who brought the magic to his door.

Mini road trip

I'm heading down to the Gulf Coast tomorrow for a few day to visit relatives and to interview Bruce Angus McNaughton for my book project. Those of you who know Bam-Bam should feel free to suggest questions for the interview, although I'll be lucky to get a question in edge-wise.

FYI, it is forecast to be 78 - 80 and sunny in Ft. Myers and Naples this week.

Also, I'm still laughing over a line from Gail Collins last week where she compared the Republican budget cuts proposal to a someone who is 50 lbs over weight deciding to cut down on their intake of kale.

The Doonesbury version

Doonesbury offers its version of the February 8th Daily Blank post in its February 13th strip. I think you'll find it here, but it maybe only today; strating tomorrow you'll probably have to look in the Doonesbury archives.

Blues, pelicans and Super Bowl ads

I was driving to the beach yesterday and about to reach my favorite spot when a song came on the radio that stopped me in my tracks. It had a jungle beat and a powerful, yet sweet, female vocal lamenting that she was “drowning in her own tears.” I was completely captivated. I parked but left the radio on until she’d finished telling her story. The DJ identified her as Robin Rogers – a name I knew.

Last fall both my regular blues podcasts (Roadhouse and Murphy’s Saloon -- see links to right) told how the recently discovered Rogers had just been diagnosed with liver cancer, that her husband and musical partner Tony Rogers had quit playing to take care of her full time and that she had no medical insurance. I sent a check – not enough to get into heaven – but I wanted to be a part of the blues community that was being asked to help out. She died in December just after learning that her last release, “Back in the Fire” had been nominated for a Blues Music Award. The whole album is great but you can try “Ocean of Tears,” the song that snagged me, for only 99 cents. Robin had a hard life, found success late, and then died at 55, but she left something beautiful behind.

Then I watched the pelicans feed for an hour or so. They found a mother-load of fish about 50 yards off shore which attracted more than 100 of the big birds, which look to me like a Disney version of a pterodactyl. The squadron of birds circled a school yard of fish covering about a half an acre, at an altitude of maybe 30 feet. It looked like flying a merry-go-round with every bird tethered to a central axes; but one-by-one the birds paused for a portion of a second, tucked their articulated wings into their bodies, pointed their prehistoric heads and beaks towards the water and dove straight down into the teaming buffet. Bird after bird – 5 or 6 in a matter of 2 or 3 seconds; then a pause for a few seconds and then 3-4 more. Tschoooo. Tschoooo. Tschooo. Then back up into the elevated raceway to spot another fish. There are worse ways to waste an afternoon.

So the Super Bowl was OK -- a pretty good game. The commercials were, as always in my view, overrated. I did like the VW/Darth Vader ad, which was a top pick for lots of people. The Chevy-Camaro-turns-into-a-robot ad was great and the Chevy Cruze/Facebook app ad was very sweet. I loathed the #3 best recall ad for Doritos – “Man licks cheese crumbs.” Haven’t we seen this ad like 5000 times with some other embarrassingly dweeby white dude doing something disgusting and demeaning that shows how much he worships the product? Enough. It had a great recall score but so what? I love the Windell Middlebrooks ads for Miller Beer, but no matter how many times I watch him take the Highlife away from some low-life, it won’t be enough to get me to drink one of their 12 once urine samples in a beer bottle.

******

I’ve been very curious to know how the hundreds of thousands of demonstrators in Cairo knew the logistics of their protests in advance and how those plans were made. The media has mostly credited Facebook and Twitter, which is like given credit to the telephone for the planning of D-Day, but there is an excellent article in the Times today that provides a deeper look into the planning.

Patriot Act and the NRA

The Patriot Act was passed with the overwhelming support of both parties in the wake of the 9-11 attacks. The act allows the government new and unprecedented permission to snoop into private financial records, authorizes warrantless searches in some cases and expanded wiretapping of telephone call and interception of Internet communications without warrants. It also permits unlimited detention of immigrants. Whether you agree with the law or not, you’d have to agree that these are quite significant infringements of Constitutional rights established in the Bill of Rights, which have protected Americans for more than 200 years.

These unprecedented infringements were enacted by Congress a result of 3000 tragic deaths perpetrated on a single perfect fall morning in 2001.

Last year 30,000 Americans were killed by guns. Ten times as many as were killed on 9-11. Another 60,000 were wounded; many disabled or scared either physically or emotionally for life.

And yet there isn’t a single Congressperson that I’m aware of with the nerve to propose that people don’t need to be able to own 33 bullet magazines – let alone to suggest that any interpretation of the Second Amendment is possible other than the one that says unlimited procession of any kind gun is every American’s absolute right. It seems for some, the Constitution is a convenience at times and a nuisance at others.

Is the NRA any better than Hosni Mubarak? Is their tyranny any less lethal? Do they corrupt the political process any less? Do we lack the courage of the Egyptian people?

The People’s Republic of Football

This Sunday the whole country will come to a standstill while two great athletic powers face off in a game of unparalleled importance; yes, I’m talking about the Ohio State v. Minnesota basketball game, as the 23-0 Buckeyes take on the 18^th ranked Golden Gophers for Big Ten supremacy. Oh yeah, there is a football game later on Sunday. I’m going with the Stillers, primarily because they just seem to know how to win the big one. I expect a close game and a decent amount of scoring. Let’s say 27-24.

Speaking of football, Chilly Joe sent me a link to one of Bill Maher’s rants that was good for a laugh. His premise is that the NFL is the most competitive and popular professional sport because the owners have embraced socialism as their business model from day one. You may not like Maher – I often wish I could reach out and smack him one myself – but read the piece and see if he isn’t right. You can find it here.

You remember Chatty Cathy? Well the latest talking toy has just hit the shops. It is a talking Muslim doll complete with burka. Nobody knows what she says because no one has the balls to pull the cord. I’m not going to credit the person who sent that one to me as they lack 24/7 personal protection.

You know what is really annoying and ubiquitous watching the network coverage from Egypt and the winter storms bombarding the U.S.? It’s the way TV anchors thank every field correspondent at the end of their reports, like they were volunteers working in leper colonies. Is it that they feel guilty sitting in a warm studio getting paid millions for reading the news, or just another example of how in America everyone expects a trophy in recognition of each bowel movement? Every time I go to McDonalds I expect the counterperson to turn and thank the grill cook for preparing my Big Mac.

The d’blank Doctrine

The events in Egypt have been both riveting and frustrating. The speed with which a motivated group of people have been able to move to the brink of remaking an entire society has been stunning and inspiring. However it’s been painful to hear the street voice of Cairo tie the dictator Mubarak to the United States. We are supposed to be the beacon of liberty that lights the world.

Egypt was an opportunity to be a role model for 80 million people in the most powerful Middle Eastern Islamic country, but it is not to be the case. “Made in USA” stamped on the tear gas canisters trumps anything President Obama or Secretary of State Clinton can possibly do or say at this point.

Had I been President we would be operating under The d’blank Doctrine, which says that the United States will never align itself with a despotic government and will always take the side of the forces working for freedom and democracy.

Is that Pollyannaish? I don’t think so. What has our support for anti-democratic regimes ever done for us? We’re still at odds with Iran more than 30 years after the Shah’s brutal dictatorship collapsed. I just returned from Chile where the U.S. is not hated, but people have not forgotten our role in the overthrow of Allende. Kuwait dragged us into one war. Saudi Arabia breeds terrorists. Cuba nearly precipitated a nuclear war out of frustration with Yankee-supported dictators. Has our support for the wrong guy in any of these countries made us safer?

The benefits far outweigh the risks. Democracy and freedom are the central promises of the American brand. America is aspirational. We need to be on the right side in situations like Egypt’s. That knowledge alone gives confidence and motivation.

There is a clear global trend towards democracy. More than 85 authoritarian governments have fallen in the past few decades. The United States should stand with the people seeking freedom in foreign lands, not just because it is right, but because they will stand with us once they achieve the freedom the crave.