More flakes falling outside of my office window. Every week now for at least the past four weeks, there’s been some significant snow event. I’m keeping track of it by the number of “Mommy and Me” classes Cora and I have had cancelled – three so far, with tomorrow’s looking in doubt.

As a kid, I remember wishing that it’d snow, that we’d have some chance of getting a day off of school. The kids in my county have had at least one day off every week for the past month. Lucky them, they’ll be sitting in school until July trying to make up the missed time.

Nowadays my outlook on missed days is different – days missed at work are days that I either need to take out of vacation time or that I need to try to figure out how to make up within the pay period. Software companies’ revenue targets don’t change with Mother Nature’s whims. I was relieved this morning to find out that there was only 2.5 inches on the ground, that I could take an hour to shovel and still make it to work reasonably on time. The office is pretty bare so far – maybe other folks aren’t yet so jaded, or have more vacation time to spare.

One of the various books that’s gotten some attention from me lately is by a guy named Seth Godin. He’s written a book called Purple Cow: Transform Your Business by Becoming Remarkable. Its basic premise is that consumers no longer pay attention to marketing, so marketing no longer is an effective mechanism for selling products and services. Consumers sell themselves and other consumers on “remarkable” products. If a product doesn’t have that remarkable edge about it that causes consumers to 1) recognize that product as “the” solution to their problem or itch, and 2) then tell other consumers about this great product, then the product will not do well in today’s marketplace. (To give appropriate background info, I ran across this book via Fast Company, and accepted Mr. Godin’s offer of a free book (free + $5.00 S&H)).

Questions: 1) Do I agree with his basic premises and theory? (Note that I haven’t finished reading the book yet.) 2) Is Mr. Godin’s book itself a remarkable product?

Answers: 1) So far, my gut agrees on the ignoring the mass media part, anyway. Looking around me, seeing the number of times my husband channel-surfs through a commercial, the buzz that used to surround the Tivo, the fact that web browser companies give away their product for free but sell the version of their product that doesn’t include commercials. . . I’d have to say that the American consumer doesn’t give too much attention to commercials. The one exception is the Super Bowl, where we pay way too much attention to the commercials, and little attention the product being hawked. I can remember plenty of Bud Bowl game commercials, but can’t say as I have any more respect for their product because of them. Do I, however, base my purchasing decisions on whether a product is remarkable? In general, I’d say, no, I don’t. Mine is a calculation of value, usually – my Handspring being the obvious exception. (OK, so I thought that was remarkable and bought it.) As we start thinking about mini-vans, I don’t consider whether it has a neato cool feature that makes it stand out from the rest – I’m interested in its service history, its MPG, its safety record, etc. In fact, I’m very likely to turn down a remarkable new offering just because it’s new and I don’t trust it to yet have the kinks worked out.

But reconsider: what if I found a vehicle that met my MPG dreams, my safety wishes, and was from a dealer that I thought I could trust? Would I be willing to pay a price premium for that “remarkable” product? And thus free the selling company from competing solely on my usual value critieria? The light dawns. . . (BTW, I have high hopes for the Saturn VUE – word is that it’ll be offered as a gas-electric hybrid in 2004.)

The challenge, then, for me in applying this to what I do (or determining that I need to do something else). . . determine either the wow feature of J2EE software systems or determine a way to break outside some set of constraints that were previously perceived to be bounding J2EE software systems development (ala my service, MPG, and safety wishes for my mini-van). That’s the puzzle that’s been niggling for a few days in my spare moments. Moo.

[Note that this post, had it been extended to fully encompass the thoughts that drove it, would have been too long, and deprived me of too much sleep, for either of our comfort. Forgive me my disjoints in thought processes and communications. Trust me that it all works out somehow in the wash, at least in the brain pinging around inside my skull.]

Tomorrow is Cora’s birthday. She’ll be one year old, which is a pretty momentous event. We had great plans for celebration: Saturday was supposed to be the big family party, with aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and great-grandparents in attendance. But it was supposed to snow Friday night into Saturday, and we were concerned that folks wouldn’t feel safe driving, so we moved the party to Monday. Unfortunately, we misjudged, and the title of this newspaper article tells the tale: Snowstorm Pummels Washington Area. So, instead of hoopla from Friday delayed to Monday, everyone is snowed in in their own little houses, and Cora’s birthday will be spent playing with just Mom and Dad.

Now the question is how much of a hoopla do we throw for our one year old? We’ve had the balloons up since Thursday, and Cora and our cat Joe have happily been pulling on the strings. But do we decorate with streamers? Do we put out the other decorations? And, the one I’m personally grappling with, do I decorate the 3-d duck cake that’ll take me probably 2+ hours to decorate? We have cupcakes – Cora actually had one this evening. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to just decorate the cupcakes then go through the headache of decorating this large fowl? (The cake’s already baked, but baking the cake is the smallest part of the effort.)

The rational side of me says that Cora won’t know the difference, and that 2+ hours is a whole lot of time to spend on something. But if I was willing to do that when there were people coming over, what does that say about my motivations? Admittedly, Cora has never really seen a cake before, so the fact that this one is shaped like a duck won’t have much impact on her. When she’s older, that Mom makes cool cakes for her birthday might seem neat. Now, though, is it worth it to Mom to spend that much time? And the sad answer is, no. Apparently, I was willing to make the cake when I’d get the glory from the other folks attending, but I’m not willing to do it when it’s just my daughter and my husband, particularly when there are perfectly acceptable, newly-minted toddler-sized cupcakes on hand.

Love’s when he spends hours holding our little girl so that she can fall asleep peacefully. Love’s when he brings me a cup of tea while I’m getting ready for work. Love’s when he respects my career aspirations as highly as his own. Love’s when he prays for our family at the dinner table.

Love’s when I recognize his acts of love, work to not take them for granted, and enjoy scheming and executing similar small things that add up, between us, to a something much bigger.

Happy almost Valentine’s Day, my love!

Found whilst seeking a recipe/instruction set to make a rubby ducky cake for my daughter for her birthday:
“Duck jailed for cake theft”

From the same site:
“The Beard Liberation Front, an informal network of beard wearers, says clean shaven men lead more stressful lives as they have to get out of bed earlier every day.”
So _that’s_ why I’ve never seen my dad without a beard. . .

And it just gets better. . .

A priest brewing beer in his washing machine. . .
“A priest without alcohol, that’s the wrong combination,” he argued.
“Jesus didn’t say, take this healthy camomile tea, he offered wine.”