Who could refuse since there is the opportunity to indulge in the best eats’s that Denver has to offer, and to rub shoulders with some wonderful people (OK there are a couple of celebrities there)!

My brother and I were assigned the task of manning the basketball station.  In 30 seconds you were to shoot as many baskets as you could into a miniature hoop with three miniature basketballs.  The prize?  A men and women’s Tag Heuer watches kindly donated by Hyde Park Jewelers (trust me, I was looking at that women’s watch with mother of pearl face and diamonds with wanting eyes).  Ervin Johnson, the former NBA player who played for the Denver Nuggets and then moved on to be the captain of the Milwaukee Bucks was our celebrity.

You could hire Ervin Johnson for $15 dollars to shot for you, or you could pay $5 to shot on your own.  What a deal right?  $15 for the opportunity to win a $1500 watch- a no-brainer!

Jeff, an attendee at the event was our first customer.  He scored 48 hoops on his first try.  He was the one to beat.

Ervin Johnson couldn’t believe that someone shot 48 hoops in 30 seconds, and was calculating how to beat Jeff’s score.  The night went along with Mr. Johnson playing for those who were desperate to win those watches.  He was great, gently working the crowd to come shot some hoops with him.  He even got me play- which was totally humiliating and fun at the same time.  He didn’t care, he was just there for a good cause.

It didn’t take Ervin Johnson long to beat Jeff’s first score of 48.  Jeff soon found-out about his defeat, and paid for another round.  He beat Ervin’s top score.

Jeff soon reached celebrity status, and was hired by women in the crowd to shoot for them.  His top-score? 67 baskets!

Ervin Johnson was going to beat Jeff’s 67 baskets- no matter what.  He persisted with more vigor. An hour and a half after he was scheduled to leave, he was still shooting hoops trying to beat Jeff’s score- and with dogged determination.

The Denver Health Foundation closed the booth down for the night, and Jeff’s skills won a lucky girl and himself the coveted watches.

The point of this article is not about the watches, and it’s not about Jeff’s amazing miniature basketball shooting skills.  It was Ervin Johnson, who was resolute in beating that score of 67.

It made me think about my determination.  How many times have I walked-away when I thought my time was over, not realizing that there was still time left in the game?  I think I am single-minded in my pursuits, but watching Ervin Johnson, made me wonder.  …Just something to think about.

By the way, Ervin Johnson would have beat Jeff’s score of 67… he just needed more time.

Just in case you were wondering what it means to raise awareness around men’s health issues it’s about preventing unnecessary and premature death in men, and to get men to work with their doctors to stay healthy and prevent, detect and intervene with any health conditions they may have.  …A lofty goal indeed, and a plug for The Denver Health Foundation!

There has been a shocking increase in major brand names being smeared though even the wimpiest (and I mean that in terms of the simplicity of the site) of all social media sites:  Twitter.  A hashtag stating how much your customer service sucks from one consumer-gone-bad goes out to a couple of hundred people, and suddenly you have 5,000 responses chiming in about that time you didn’t give Sally a refund on that broken glassware she returned or how your cashier isn’t peppy enough at 8am.  As menial and harmless as these things seem, their effects can snowball into a massive negative PR shitstorm.

But many companies have gotten wise to these tiny kindles and now are focusing on having a dedicated person – and sometimes an entire team – putting out these flames before they morph into an unwieldy wildfire.

Social media monitoring isn’t a new concept.  Publicists have been doing it since, well, the beginning of the public relations industry.  It’s just that now we’re dealing with a new medium – same dog, new tricks.  But the differentiating factor is the more highly efficient terrain that we’re working in.

Social media monitoring can be easily done in just a few hours each day, as long as you know:

*What Google alert keywords to target
*Which sites to monitor
*How and when to respond to complaints (Hint: you respond to all of them)
*How to efficiently juggle multiple social networks

Monitoring your social media accounts has many benefits – the most important being that you can keep that brand name you worked so hard to cultivate clean.  A brand is a powerful, powerful thing, and the tiniest besmirch can blow up into a huge issue and ruin a once strong household name.

While many people will give vague reasons for why social network monitoring is such an important part of online marketing nowadays, there are a few more specific benefits to keeping a strict eye on your online presence:

*You have the ability to turn complainers into repeat customers (everyone wants to be special and covets one-on-one attention)
Discover trends on favorite and most talked about products
*Pinpoint people who influence your brand and engage them more often (this would be that Twitter god who has 25,000 followers that bow to his every whim)
*Build and nurture relationships with other key industry players and with your consumer base

Social media monitoring isn’t just some meaningless corporate jargon like “rightsizing” and “proactive solutions”, it’s a real process that can save your small business’s reputation.  By keeping on top of the chatter your company is generating, you can have full control over the conversation and steer it where you see fit.

…

“No, son, you cast long – there you’ve got it!” I said.  ”That’s a good boy, we’ll have fish for supper no doubt!”  I pat his head.  What a wonderful morning, so long ago – me and my boy, IE6, out fishing over the mighty Platte.  Breath in that air, let it pass over your pallet and taste the salt of the catch. But, no… not any more. Today, my wife catches me just standing there, watching the rain, cold cup of coffee in my right hand, IE6’s old favorite fishing lure in the left.  I’m a little more gray, and I’m a little more lonely.  She places a shawl over my shoulders.  

“Stare all you want,” she says, “but warm fast or you’ll catch your death at this window.”  She smiles, grips my index finger with her hand, then returns to her day.  Time moves slower after the ebb and flow of a tragedy.

“Dad?” he once asked me. “Am I a good internet browser?”

“Of course you are my boy,” I replied. “Now just keep your eyes out on your line.”  Ah, his smile is so wide.

I didn’t know what he would become.  Neither of us did.  In therapy, they tell us it’s called a diagnostic bereavement-denial syndrome.  To me that’s just a bunch of fancy talk, the horrid wars of my yesteryears couldn’t dissolve the nightmare I’d birthed to this world, and into the next – God forgive me and angels be at peace.

It was like any normal Sunday morning.  I was mowing the yard – fresh sunshine on my face and a hearty plate of pancakes mucking around in my stomach juices.  As I turned to the house, I could see into IE6’s bedroom.  We’d always respected his privacy, but what I caught that day was the beginning, I can see it clearly now.  IE6 was holding a long page of code, a pet project of his – he always did so well with it, such a natural talent.  He raised it over his head, then started slowly moving over the code with an object in his other hand – what I know now to be a coat hanger he heated up in the fireplace.  He threw his head back while doing this, cackling into the ceiling and spouting loud curse words from dead languages while his eyes went black.  I stopped the lawnmower, said a small prayer, then threw up in my neighbors bushes.

As the years passed it got worse – the ways he acted and how he treated his code.  I’d pound my palm on the dinner table and order him to his room while my wife silently picked up all of the overturned glasses.  I’d strip the code from his pale hands and tape it back together the only way I knew I could – my sheet full of stars.  I’d find my wife sobbing on the bathroom floor gripping her sharpest Kanetsune for the last time.  I planned a fishing trip.

IE6 was nine or ten, still a young one but far more capable for harm then this world would ever know.  He fought the idea, but hadn’t been to school for months so he reluctantly agreed if not for the boredom, and I made peace with what I’d say to him.  I feel so old now, my bones, so… dry.  Our boat drifts out onto the water.  My line is cast.

“IE6, my son.  We need to talk,” I began.

He leans over, spits into the lake, and looks at his lace-less shoes.  He mutters, “What, you idiot, what?  Just leave me alone.”

Nervously, I continued.  “You know I love you son, and I always will.  Your mother and I are concerned about your behavior.  You won’t go to school, you won’t move in with your uncle, you won’t leave people’s code alone.  Those tattoos don’t help, and your hair – IE6, just tell me my boy, why are you so angry?”

My eyes well up on that last one.  My heart hurts.  My son.  I taste tears through my mustache.

“Just leave it alone Dad.  I like to shift things, I like to cut things, I am my own beast.  You’ll never understand, and you’ll never be free.”  As he says this, his eyes shift hues from red, to mauve, to jet black.

The deed must come now.  It’ll be here soon. “So just leave – me – alone!” he screams.  On this, I move forward and shove him from the tiny boat.  His arms flail as he splashes into the brown water, near black with this overcast sky.  “Dad!” he screams, arms reaching for invisible nothings.  My eyes are mulled fresh with salty tears, as I lean over the boat, and slowly push his shoulders down into the water.  Screams, muffled.

“I love you!” I scream into the bubbling froth my hands have disappeared into. “This is for the best, I love you, I’ll always-”

The bubbles stop.  He doesn’t float, just sinks – a testament to the black underbelly he’d grown – his disdain and self encouraged apathy toward the world, and his code.

…

The days are less grim now.  Mowing the yard on a Sunday morning, I’ll pass his old room – only storage.  

I keep mowing, and reflect on the spot in my neighbors bushes that never grows back.

This is how it works…

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FLOWERS, CHOCOLATE, BALLOONS AND A CHEESY STUFFED ANIMAL DELIVERED ON FEBRUARY 12TH

Of particular focus (for this short piece) is that of Rocky’s Autos. While I’ve only been a citizen near the mile-high city for roughly four years now, I believe Rocky’s Autos holds in the public group-think a cypher that I’m still yet unable to decode. The Sawaya Law Firm is of similar stock (we’ll leave Hank Azar and Dealin’ Doug in their own bizarre corners for this writing). According to the quickly covered statistics in their commercials, Rocky’s Autos is quite the happening place to buy a used automobile in Colorado, and judging by the frequency of the commercials on television – this may hold a grain or two of truth. Rocky’s Autos is apparently also haunted by an attractive blond named Audra, a police officer, and a mildly rotund high-energy gentlemen (I believe his name is Shaggy) who – on the payroll or not – find joy in spreading the Rocky’s gospel. As far as the commercials tell me, these three wander the car lots at Rocky’s looking with squinted eyes into the sun, hungry, and without aim. Occasionally, from the benefactions of Rocky’s consumer base, a video camera is summoned, and with smiles and renewed purpose the hijinks then ensue.

My point is more of a question, a “royal” question to be floated out into the heat and vapor. Why do these businesses, in the year of our Lord two thousand and ten, spend a great deal (or a partial deal) on television commercials – then clearly neglect such investment their web presence? Surely they understand that the great majority of the populace, when looking to investigate future patronage, use the world-wide-web before visiting said establishment? Before I submitted my body to the expensive torture known as “the dentist” – I did two things: I ate a cheeseburger, and then I used the internet to research local dentists. While the cheeseburger was irrelevant (though tasty) – I chose the dentist that had the best looking, easiest to navigate – and most importantly, the best information at hand on their site.

Rocky’s Autos does indeed have a website, however the Flash intro, the table-based code, poor navigation, and ill-rendered graphical treatment / layout all betray that this site has been sitting here unattended on the web since the late nineties.

Strike that. In the effort of fairness, the Wayback Machine actually says the site hasn’t changed since at least 2003, going on seven years ago.

However, Rocky’s Autos, now that I’ve lambasted you and your good works, call us. We’ll help you with your sorely needed makeover, and render your digital eyesore into something painted with magnificence.

Also, don’t tell my wife I have a crush on Audra.