I'm Not Old. I'm Vintage.

This product hits me where I live.

It's a leather iPad case that looks like a vintage book.

Even the zipper tabs look like an old-fashioned bookmark.

I like the juxtaposition of old and new.

It sorta reminds me of me.

My exterior is well worn. Vintage, if you will. 

But, I didn't stop learning and growing when I hit the ripe, old age of 40 when many in marketing and advertising are put out to pasture.

So my interior is loaded with all the modern technology. And it's been polished to a rich finish by years of experience. 

This case is called the BookBook and you can get it from TwelveSouth for $69.99.

I'm not affiliated with the company or the product. I just liked it, appreciated it, and wanted to share.

It Wasn't Pretty

"It wasn't pretty, but we pulled it off."

Too many years ago, in a hotel lobby bar, one of my early mentors Tom Dombrosky said that to me loudly as he drained his 4th shot of Stolichnaya.

It was the end of our third day with almost no sleep. Earlier, we had delivered a sales record breaking promotion for a new client who ended the day saying, "Nice job, boys. Come in tomorrow and we'll talk about you handling all our business."

And Tom was right. It wasn't pretty. But we somehow pulled it off. And the client only saw the pretty stuff.

 

 

That took a sack full of guts ...

Perhaps the most dramatic, and anticipated moment of the Olympic Opening Ceremony is the arrival of the Olympic torch and the lighting of the Olympic flame. 

And perhaps the most emotional and inspiring arrival/lighting occurred in 1996 in Atlanta.

For the Atlanta Olympics, the torch arrived in the United States 84 days before the start of the games (together with the 16 days of competition to add up to a symbolic 100 days) and traveled more than 16,000 miles. An estimated 3.5 billion people around the world, along with the assembled athletes watched the journey of the flame, curious who the final torch bearer would be.
 
The final runner, four-time discus gold-medal winner Al Oerter, arrives outside the stadium to ignite the torch held by three-time heavyweight world champion boxer Evander Holyfield who enters the stadium joined by Greek runner Voula Patoulidou.
 
The two of them carry the torch around the stadium track and pass the torch to US four-time gold medal winner swimmer Janet Evans.
 
As Beethoven`s "Ode to Joy" is played, Evans takes her lap around the track towards the long ramp leading up to the top of the stadium.
 
The cheers from the capacity crowd crescendo.
 
All eyes are on Evans as she climbs the ramp.
 
Then, as she reaches the top of the stadium they are treated to a surprise.
 

Waiting for her is Muhammad Ali. The Greatest
 
The crowd gasps and then joins together in a tumultuous roar.
 

The heavyweight boxing gold medalist at the 1960 Olympics in Rome and regarded by many to be the greatest professional heavyweight boxing champion of all time, Ali is one of the most recognizable sports figures worldwide.
 
Evans touches her torch to Ali`s, igniting it.
 
Ali holds the Olympic torch unsteadily in his right hand while his left shakes uncontrollably with the symptoms of Parkinson's disease. He raises the flame and is met with supportive cheers.

Watching Muhammad Ali proudly hold the Olympic torch, despite his crippling ailment, stands as a great moment in sport, Olympics and beyond. The world was inspired by a man recognized as a great fighter during his boxing days as he continued to fight, this time his crippling ailment.
 
US President Bill Clinton, who was there to open the Olympic Games said, “That took a sack full of guts ... and it's taken a lot of courage to continue to go out, to be seen...he wasn't self-conscious. He's something special.”
 
The dignity of the man was consummate – never relinquishing ideals for money or fame, Ali was the people’s champion – the underdog in sport and life.
 
“They didn’t tell me who would light the flame, but when I saw it was you, I cried,” said Clinton.
 
He wasn’t the only one.

That's Right, Kid

Grown ups love telling children, "You can be anything you want to be." 

When I was very young I thought that this meant I could become a dog ... that's what I wanted to be. 

When I got a bit older, I wanted to be my dad. 

And I sort of wanted to be Tommy Bowman. He was a neighborhood kid who was cool before any of us knew what cool was.

Then Spiderman. He was cooler than Tommy Bowman.

As we grew up, adult relatives and teachers kept drilling the mantra into our developing grey matter, "You can be anything you want to be."

And they usually added suggestions: "A doctor. A lawyer. President of the United States."

I'm not sure if adults still use "President of the United States" as an aspirational goal. That might've ended with Nixon. Or some of the more recent chuckleheads to hold the position.

Anyway, it was kinda reassuring as I hit my teens. "You can be anything you want to be." There's comfort in knowing you have control over your future. 

Granted, at the time, all I really wanted to do was find girls who would have sex with me, but it was nice to know that I could end up being anything I wanted to be.

It took me until my mid-twenties to figure out the second part of that phrase. The part the grown ups had never mentioned. The part that matters. 

 

The part I started telling my kids when they hit double-digits. 10-years-old. 

Damned if I was gonna let it sneak up on them, like it did on their old man. 

"You can be anything you want to be ... if you are willing to commit to the level necessary to attain that goal."

Today is the opening day of the Summer Olympics.

There are lots of people who want to compete in the Olympic games.

Not everybody is willing to pay the price.