How far into the future do you plan?
I wasn’t yet born when a few hundred thousand people descended on Max Yasgur’s farm in upstate New York in the summer of 1969. Yet despite not having experienced the 3 Days of Peace & Music myself, I can appreciate the significant impact the event has had historically on music in particular and on our culture in general. Rolling Stone magazine called it one of the 50 Moments That Changed the History of Rock and Roll.
I’m currently operating under the assumption that there will be some sort of Woodstock 50 celebration. And I realized four or five years ago that my eldest child, my daughter, would be 21 in the summer of 2019. Just in time for the 50th anniversary. I have no idea whether she’ll have interest in going. But as a father, despite the fact that I understand she’ll be an adult by that point, it’s difficult for me to imagine that “my little girl” would be trouncing around on her own at such an event.
If it works out, I think it might be fun to attend Woodstock 50. I know recreating the spirit of the 1969 original is obviously not exactly possible. I’m under no delusions. But hopefully a 2019 event will transcend the corporate marketing malaise that was Woodstock ’94 and ’99. One can only hope.
Looking ahead to Woodstock 50 got me thinking more generally about planning and road-mapping activities used in business.
On a personal level, I don’t typically look ahead 15 years as was the case when I first starting thinking about 2019. It is somewhat easy to think about Woodstock 50 though because it represents a specific point in time. And the opportunity is well defined. An equivalent business world example that comes readily to mind is all the prep work that went into Y2K. The passing of the millennium was a known, fixed point in time. And everybody knew computer clocks needed to be reset. I’m not suggesting the Y2K issue was easy to resolve. It was simplified however by the fact that the issue was well defined and the timeframe was fixed.
Most plans and roadmaps aren’t typically based on known, future points in time though. Nor are they usually as basic as deciding whether or not to attend an event like Woodstock 50 and simply convincing your kids to attend with you (although this might be easier said than done).
What does your roadmap look like? Or more precisely, what do your roadmaps look like?
If you’re NASA planning a trip to Mars, I figure your roadmaps get pretty complicated pretty fast. Different technologies and politics to consider, not to mention all those other roadmaps to consider – Astrobiology roadmaps, Solar System Exploration roadmaps, Heliophysics roadmaps, etc. The effort I imagine is decades in the making.
If you’re Google attempting to digitize the world, or another technology company facing a rapidly evolving landscape, I figure your roadmaps get pretty complicated pretty fast. Different technologies and politics to consider, not to mention the myriad of competitors nipping at your heels.
Whether you’re Boeing, or GM, or General Mills, or Home Depot, or Coca-Cola, or The Gap, or Topps, or Dreamworks, or virtually any other company, I figure your roadmaps can get pretty complicated pretty fast. The trick I suppose is reconciliation and coordination amongst your various roadmaps – strategic roadmaps, product roadmaps, technology roadmaps, marketing roadmaps, etc. Not to mention those of your suppliers. Your success will be based on your ability to manage and govern all these elements simultaneously.
Do you have the resources and tools to do this effectively?
My own personal roadmap on the way to 2019 will likely take a variety of different turns. I don’t imagine though the decision to attend Woodstock 50 will be overly complicated. At the very least though, before I’m allowed to accompany my daughter (or rather tag along) to Woodstock 50, I suppose I’ll have to convince her in the next few years that her old man is cool enough (or at least simply not too embarrassing) to drive her and her friends to the mall.
[This post first appeared on August 18, 2009 as a post on The Front End of Innovation blog]
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Gary Louris & Mark Olson @ the Varsity - 02/22/09
Gary Louris & Mark Olson
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Varsity Theater (Minneapolis, MN)
I attended a Jayhawk’s show at First Avenue in Minneapolis in what must have been late spring or summer of 1997 shortly after the release of “Sound of Lies”. For those not familiar with the history of The Jayhawks, absent from this particular album and subsequent tour was founding member Mark Olson. He had recently parted with his musical compatriots, moved west with wife Victoria Williams, and would ultimately record again a little while later with a new collection of friends under the name Mark Olson & the Original Harmony Ridge Creekdippers. When tickets went on sale for that 1997 First Avenue Jayhawks’ show, I didn’t hesitate to snatch one up for myself. I had absolutely fallen in love with the album “Tomorrow the Green Grass”. And although “Sound of Lies” didn’t quite resonate with me in the same manner, I wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to see them live at First Ave. In looking back, perhaps my expectations for the concert without Mark Olson were a bit too high. I wanted to believe though that Gary Louris, Marc Perlman, and the other remaining members of the band would shine just as bright without him.
I can’t honestly say I remember much about that actual 1997 concert. I distinctly remember however emerging from First Avenue after the show with a couple of my friends, brothers Mike and David Kargas. As we meandered the night streets toward our cars and discussed the musical and emotional merits of the concert, the brothers Kargas seemed pretty jazzed. I was a bit more subdued and contemplative. There was something lacking for me at that show. And had I been able to focus my thoughts a bit more during those initial moments after the show, perhaps I could have articulated my thoughts and feelings a bit better. As it was, I probably seemed a little tired, or just my somewhat quiet self.
The problem with that 1997 show for me should have been completely obvious right away. I was struggling too much in those immediate moments after the show though to reconcile the reality of that evening’s performance with the likelihood that The Jayhawks as I wanted them to be, would likely never exist again. I came to realize later that that evening was my very own February 3, 1959.
I thought about it more as I drove home that evening. Clearly what were missing were the rich harmonies, vocal contrast, and musical interplay that once existed between Louris and Olson. When I arrived home around midnight that evening, my wife (who had tried to wait up but was half asleep) groggily asked “how was the concert?” I wasn’t sure exactly how to describe the experience. After a slight hesitation to think how best to respond, I simply said “I don’t think I ever need to see The Jayhawks in concert again.” That pretty much summed it up.
_________________________
…fast forward 12 years.
I happened to see an ad somewhere that a second Gary Louris/Mark Olson show was being added for Sunday February 22 at the Varsity Theater. Second show?! I didn’t know about the first. Apparently the first one sold out unbelievably fast and more than a few fans were a little irked that they hadn’t been able to secure a ticket. Thus the second show. Lucky for me. But first I needed to get a ticket.
At 10:00 a.m., on the Friday tickets went on sale online, I was ready and waiting. Despite the fact that I was at work and scheduled to be in a meeting beginning at 10:00, I figured I could spend a few minutes securing a ticket. Little did I know that Ticketmaster would freeze up my computer and my chance was lost. I figure tickets sold out online in about ten, maybe15 minutes tops. I missed my chance. Obviously I got a ticket though. Otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this. I was forced to drive to the Loring Pasta Bar (adjacent to the Varsity Theater) after work that day to purchase my ticket. When I got to the Loring Paste Bar there were only six tickets left. I only needed one.
_________________________
On the night of the show, I met up with my friend Jeff. As we stood in line for the early show at the Varsity I felt fortunate to have purchased a hot chocolate at a local coffee shop. The early evening air was chilly. And I had decided to leave my coat in the car because I didn’t want to lug it into the theater. I had forgotten to wear a hat. Oh well. We were inside soon enough.
After getting IDs checked and a bracelet on our wrists (should we desire a libation or two), we took standing positions about ten yards straight out from the stage. Despite technically being an 18+ show, it was pretty much a 30+ show. There were a few college students in the room, and perhaps some additional 20-somethings, but the median age was probably around 40 with some that were obviously even older. I’m not a great estimator of crowd size, but I’d say the room held less than a thousand. There were some tables and chairs with couches and sofa seats along much of stage left. We didn’t get there early enough to grab a couch. I wouldn’t have wanted one anyway. The view was much better from where I was standing. Because it was an early show, there’d be no opening act. We didn’t wait too long until the music started.
The anticipation in the room was obvious. I for one attempted not to have unrealistic expectations. It was difficult.
When Gary Louris and Mark Olson first walked onstage, the crowd I believe thought for a moment that these were the roadies coming to tune guitars. That’s what I thought anyway. It had probably been a while since most in the room had seen either of them live. It was just the two of them on stage. It took a good thirty seconds to realize the show was actually starting.
Although there was a healthy excitement in the room, there was no thunderous applause. It was more polite and proper with an occasional high pitched, low volume whooooop. No one wanted to be the moron that made it impossible for others to hear every word spoken or sung from Gary’s or Mark’s mouth. When the music started everyone went silent.
Honestly, I didn’t actually recognize many of the new songs. I had only heard a song or two on the radio and samples of others at a record store. It didn’t matter though. They could have been singing Row Row Row Your Boat for all I cared. The harmonies were just as I had hoped. Louris hit the high notes. Perhaps not as effortlessly as he once had, but hit them none-the-less. And Mark’s gritty, growling voice filled the void created years ago when he had left.
Along with their new material, the duo mixed in some not oft heard oldies from their days at the 400 Bar and some classics such as Waiting for the Sun. There was a healthy dose of Tomorrow the Green Grass in the set list too, including Nothing Left to Borrow, and a show ending Blue. I knew all was right with the world about two-thirds of the way through the show when Gary and Mark began in on Over My Shoulder. In my opinion, the two cannot possibly sound better than this. I closed my eyes briefly and savored the moment.
At some point during the show they started in on one of their new songs called The Rose Society. I wondered for a brief moment whether they were covering Son Volt’s song Windfall. The opening riff is a dead ringer.
Neither talked much during the show. They almost seemed uncomfortable at times expressing themselves independent from their music. They were very appreciative of the crowd though. This was the last night of their tour and it was obviously a somewhat bittersweet, almost melancholy experience.
Throughout the show the crowd was relatively reserved. But there were no miscellaneous side conversations going on as often happens at other venues. All eyes were focused on the stage. During and between songs. Because of my height, my sight line for the entire show was perfect. Occasionally I took the opportunity to visually scan the crowd. I’d look around in front of me, then turn and scan behind me. The light from stage illuminated faces. Heads bobbed throughout the room in mellow rhythm. Everyone listened intently. It was as if everyone knew they were witnessing something truly special that wouldn’t last forever. The stars were aligned and everyone knew this was a special moment.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Varsity Theater (Minneapolis, MN)
I attended a Jayhawk’s show at First Avenue in Minneapolis in what must have been late spring or summer of 1997 shortly after the release of “Sound of Lies”. For those not familiar with the history of The Jayhawks, absent from this particular album and subsequent tour was founding member Mark Olson. He had recently parted with his musical compatriots, moved west with wife Victoria Williams, and would ultimately record again a little while later with a new collection of friends under the name Mark Olson & the Original Harmony Ridge Creekdippers. When tickets went on sale for that 1997 First Avenue Jayhawks’ show, I didn’t hesitate to snatch one up for myself. I had absolutely fallen in love with the album “Tomorrow the Green Grass”. And although “Sound of Lies” didn’t quite resonate with me in the same manner, I wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to see them live at First Ave. In looking back, perhaps my expectations for the concert without Mark Olson were a bit too high. I wanted to believe though that Gary Louris, Marc Perlman, and the other remaining members of the band would shine just as bright without him.
I can’t honestly say I remember much about that actual 1997 concert. I distinctly remember however emerging from First Avenue after the show with a couple of my friends, brothers Mike and David Kargas. As we meandered the night streets toward our cars and discussed the musical and emotional merits of the concert, the brothers Kargas seemed pretty jazzed. I was a bit more subdued and contemplative. There was something lacking for me at that show. And had I been able to focus my thoughts a bit more during those initial moments after the show, perhaps I could have articulated my thoughts and feelings a bit better. As it was, I probably seemed a little tired, or just my somewhat quiet self.
The problem with that 1997 show for me should have been completely obvious right away. I was struggling too much in those immediate moments after the show though to reconcile the reality of that evening’s performance with the likelihood that The Jayhawks as I wanted them to be, would likely never exist again. I came to realize later that that evening was my very own February 3, 1959.
I thought about it more as I drove home that evening. Clearly what were missing were the rich harmonies, vocal contrast, and musical interplay that once existed between Louris and Olson. When I arrived home around midnight that evening, my wife (who had tried to wait up but was half asleep) groggily asked “how was the concert?” I wasn’t sure exactly how to describe the experience. After a slight hesitation to think how best to respond, I simply said “I don’t think I ever need to see The Jayhawks in concert again.” That pretty much summed it up.
_________________________
…fast forward 12 years.
I happened to see an ad somewhere that a second Gary Louris/Mark Olson show was being added for Sunday February 22 at the Varsity Theater. Second show?! I didn’t know about the first. Apparently the first one sold out unbelievably fast and more than a few fans were a little irked that they hadn’t been able to secure a ticket. Thus the second show. Lucky for me. But first I needed to get a ticket.
At 10:00 a.m., on the Friday tickets went on sale online, I was ready and waiting. Despite the fact that I was at work and scheduled to be in a meeting beginning at 10:00, I figured I could spend a few minutes securing a ticket. Little did I know that Ticketmaster would freeze up my computer and my chance was lost. I figure tickets sold out online in about ten, maybe15 minutes tops. I missed my chance. Obviously I got a ticket though. Otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this. I was forced to drive to the Loring Pasta Bar (adjacent to the Varsity Theater) after work that day to purchase my ticket. When I got to the Loring Paste Bar there were only six tickets left. I only needed one.
_________________________
On the night of the show, I met up with my friend Jeff. As we stood in line for the early show at the Varsity I felt fortunate to have purchased a hot chocolate at a local coffee shop. The early evening air was chilly. And I had decided to leave my coat in the car because I didn’t want to lug it into the theater. I had forgotten to wear a hat. Oh well. We were inside soon enough.
After getting IDs checked and a bracelet on our wrists (should we desire a libation or two), we took standing positions about ten yards straight out from the stage. Despite technically being an 18+ show, it was pretty much a 30+ show. There were a few college students in the room, and perhaps some additional 20-somethings, but the median age was probably around 40 with some that were obviously even older. I’m not a great estimator of crowd size, but I’d say the room held less than a thousand. There were some tables and chairs with couches and sofa seats along much of stage left. We didn’t get there early enough to grab a couch. I wouldn’t have wanted one anyway. The view was much better from where I was standing. Because it was an early show, there’d be no opening act. We didn’t wait too long until the music started.
The anticipation in the room was obvious. I for one attempted not to have unrealistic expectations. It was difficult.
When Gary Louris and Mark Olson first walked onstage, the crowd I believe thought for a moment that these were the roadies coming to tune guitars. That’s what I thought anyway. It had probably been a while since most in the room had seen either of them live. It was just the two of them on stage. It took a good thirty seconds to realize the show was actually starting.
Although there was a healthy excitement in the room, there was no thunderous applause. It was more polite and proper with an occasional high pitched, low volume whooooop. No one wanted to be the moron that made it impossible for others to hear every word spoken or sung from Gary’s or Mark’s mouth. When the music started everyone went silent.
Honestly, I didn’t actually recognize many of the new songs. I had only heard a song or two on the radio and samples of others at a record store. It didn’t matter though. They could have been singing Row Row Row Your Boat for all I cared. The harmonies were just as I had hoped. Louris hit the high notes. Perhaps not as effortlessly as he once had, but hit them none-the-less. And Mark’s gritty, growling voice filled the void created years ago when he had left.
Along with their new material, the duo mixed in some not oft heard oldies from their days at the 400 Bar and some classics such as Waiting for the Sun. There was a healthy dose of Tomorrow the Green Grass in the set list too, including Nothing Left to Borrow, and a show ending Blue. I knew all was right with the world about two-thirds of the way through the show when Gary and Mark began in on Over My Shoulder. In my opinion, the two cannot possibly sound better than this. I closed my eyes briefly and savored the moment.
At some point during the show they started in on one of their new songs called The Rose Society. I wondered for a brief moment whether they were covering Son Volt’s song Windfall. The opening riff is a dead ringer.
Neither talked much during the show. They almost seemed uncomfortable at times expressing themselves independent from their music. They were very appreciative of the crowd though. This was the last night of their tour and it was obviously a somewhat bittersweet, almost melancholy experience.
Throughout the show the crowd was relatively reserved. But there were no miscellaneous side conversations going on as often happens at other venues. All eyes were focused on the stage. During and between songs. Because of my height, my sight line for the entire show was perfect. Occasionally I took the opportunity to visually scan the crowd. I’d look around in front of me, then turn and scan behind me. The light from stage illuminated faces. Heads bobbed throughout the room in mellow rhythm. Everyone listened intently. It was as if everyone knew they were witnessing something truly special that wouldn’t last forever. The stars were aligned and everyone knew this was a special moment.
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