By Francis Moran
Although no inmedianauts were stranded yesterday when Ottawa-based Zoom Airlines suspended operations as it sought bankruptcy protection in the face of actions by several of its leaseholders and creditors, we very easily could have been. Ever since our Danny Sullivan repatriated himself to his native Scotland and set up office for us in Glasgow a few years back, we have been enthusiastic and regular passengers on this quirky little airline that offered good prices, excellent service and a peculiar schedule that gave us direct, non-stop flights for most of the year between Ottawa and Glasgow. It’s as though Zoom was made for us.
Our best experience happened when we flew Danny on Zoom to Ottawa on fairly short notice when a long-time client hired a new marketing vice president and wanted to talk about an aggressive new program. The veep, who had flown in from San Jose, did not believe that Danny had come to town just for that meeting. Turned out, however, that it cost less and took less time for Danny to get there than it did for the veep!
Zoom was a favoured carrier for my family, too. In the winter, Zoom used to offer non-stop weekend service between Ottawa and St. Maarten that could see a winter-weary citizen of this frozen northern capital get on a plane at about 6:30 a.m. and be frolicking in the warm Caribbean by noon. And three summers ago, we flew Zoom to Scotland for a family vacation in England, Scotland and Ireland.
From a PR and crisis communications perspective, though, Zoom does not seem to be managing this potentially fatal setback nearly as well as it managed its early growth and success. News stories have focused on the suddeness of the shut down, the lack of communication to stranded passengers and the apparent abandoning of their posts by Zoom personnel at airports. This does not create the kind of forgiveness and understanding a company needs to successfully emerge from such a crisis. And that would be too bad for Zoom and those of us who enjoyed flying with them.
By Leo Valiquette
One battle-ready sword with really, really blunt edges (hey, common sense still has to prevail): $120
One chain mail hauberk and coif (that’s a shirt and hood for the uninitiated): $300
One shield: $150
Getting some adrenaline-pumping exercise that reminds us of the time when a man’s sword had to be as sharp as his wit: Priceless
As a wordsmith by profession and preference, there is nonetheless only so much time I can spend in front of a computer weaving words into artful prose. I need to take a break and try my hand at something else for awhile, usually something that involves sweat and sore muscles. Everything in moderation, after all.
For the past several years, its been one home improvement project or another. This time around, I am finally pursuing a long-held intention to take a course with the disarming title of “Chivalrous Sword Handling,” which will inevitably lead to a greater investment in arms and armor for regular engagements sparring with actual steel weapons (With all practical considerations made for safety, of course).
Whatever your particular bent, there is no underestimating the value of regular physical activity to burn off stress and the calories accumulated from sitting at a desk all day. I’ve known more than one workaholic, with a tummy only Timmy’s could make, hit with a heart attack or similar lifestyle-related illness at far too young an age.
So a note of caution as we say goodbye to August and head into September and the flurry of work-related activity that usually goes with it. Don’t let long and busy days at the office lead you to flop for the evening at home. Even a 30-minute walk after supper can work wonders. Even better, add another 10 or 15 minutes over lunch to refocus the mind and shake out the lethargy of sitting at the desk.
It’s a cliche because its true: If you don’t have your health, you don’t have anything.
By Francis Moran
“If you persevere long enough, if you do the right things long enough, good things will happen to you.”
This is such a gorgeous quote, I simply couldn’t resist blogging about it even though it has absolutely nothing to do with technology or public relations.
This marvelous sentiment came yesterday from Canada’s oldest Olympian, Ian Millar, who, at 61, has finally snagged an Olympic medal, the only significant trophy in equestrian competition that had evaded him. It wasn’t for lack of trying; Millar has competed at nine games stretching all the way from the era of Spitz in Munich in 1972 to Phelps in Beijing in 2008.
Congratulations, Ian. You’re an inspiration and a testament to the value of perseverance.
By Leo Valiquette
I still remember the day on the schoolyard when I picked up a pair of bent twigs to serve as an imaginary pistols and offered one to my classmate for an impromptu game of cops and robbers.
“I’m not allowed to do that,” he told me solemnly.
“Do what?”
“Play with guns.”
“But it’s just a stick,” I said. “It’s not a real gun.”
I was around eight years old at the time and it came as quite a shock to learn his parent’s religious convictions precluded my classmate from participating in what I considered to be a harmless bit of fun. Cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians and various other activities now tarnished by PC’s broad brush were an integral part of my childhood.
But, thirty years later, with a boy of my own, that perspective has obviously changed. That’s not to say my son won’t enjoy these kinds of activities with his old man (he is the proud owner of a plastic sword complete with light and sound effects, after all), but I’ve become much more sensitive over the years to the insidious influence of the almighty dollar on the marketing agenda of big business, especially when it comes to marketing merchandise to children.
Case in point. My wife is a volunteer tester for the Canadian Toy Testing Council. Every month there’s a new batch of toys that are supposed to be appropriate for children my son’s age (three+), to be tested, reviewed and, well, played with.
A recent item was a pair of over-sized foam Incredible Hulk Smash Hands that kids wear like boxing gloves. The kid is encouraged to smash and bash, with each impact generating some suitable sound effect or a quote from the Hulk’s extensive vocabulary. My son hates the things. One parent for whom my wife provides home daycare services said they wouldn’t even have accepted them for testing.
For the record, the Incredible Hulk was rated a relatively kid-friendly PG-13 (not that I put much faith in the movie ratings system. A rant on that subject you can find here from my days at the Ottawa Business Journal). There are plenty of toys out there too for the latest Batman flick, The Dark Knight, which also gets off easy, despite its dark and violent tone, with a PG-13 rating. The recommended age range for these toys starts at four years old.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I have a problem with toys being marketed to a kid who can’t even see the movie for another nine birthdays. I’m glad the marketing PR services I provide usually involve technologies and products that would bore a four-year-old to tears.
