Last month, the Catalogs.com team packed up our offices and went Orlando or bust to attend the DMA’s: the Direct Mail Association’s Annual Conference for Catalog & Multi-channel Merchants. It wasn’t our first DMA excursion. In fact, not to brag, but I was a contributing panelist a couple of years back. It’s usually a fantastic experience offering opportunities to learn, grow, network and rub noses with thousands of future catalog clients as well as other internet professionals. That’s all it should have been, and more. In actuality, I regret to report, The DMA trip ended up being worse than a trip to the DMV.

We went through hours upon hours of prep including renting a van, filling it with swag, designing new brochures and schlepping 5 of our employees up north with us. Ultimately, the event ended up costing us $10,000 and then some. Little did we know we’d be faced with one giant detour once we got there.

Upon arrival at the convention center, we soon realized we were victims of the old switcheroo. Months earlier we had contracted for a specific prime booth location and lo and behold, we ended up in an isolated row off to the side with no other exhibitors and zero traffic. Nowhere land. It was the restaurant equivalent of the table in the back where you constantly get whacked by the swinging kitchen door. That’s right folks, we were the Thanksgiving kiddie table of the DMA’s.

We were misled, and felt taken advantage of. What good is having a contract, whether it be verbal or tangible, if it isn’t going to be upheld? We paid good money to be showcased and should have at the very least been notified of the change and given the opportunity to amend the situation. It’s all about ethics, isn’t it? After arguing with the guys in charge to no avail, we decided to take matters into our own hands. Sans permission, we ended up moving ourselves to a bigger, better location where we could re-join the land of the catalog living.
Business picked up, contacts were made, and we left with our heads held high, smiles on our faces, and a valuable lesson.

DMA conference fees - $10,000.00

New client revenue while stuck in nowhere land - $0.00

Standing your ground and refusing to give in – priceless.

Posted by Melody at 11:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Rather than going the usual tie/casual shirt route this Father’s Day, my daughter was inspired when it came to gifting. She gave my husband a priceless piece of artwork. I know what you’re thinking… How much of an allowance are they giving this kid?

Allow me to clarify. It wasn’t a purchased work of art. It was made by her own two precious little artistic hands. It’s a still life of a single sunflower in a vase with a stunning blue background. It’s lovely. It’s exquisite. It’s already up on our office wall. Every time I look at it, I stifle tears and marvel… my daughter is the next Vincent Van Gogh.

Scratch that. Maybe the next Frida Kahlo. I would hate to imagine her going crazy and chopping her ear off twenty years from now à la Van Gogh, but there’s no denying it… the kid’s got talent. What’s more, she knew what to get for the man who is utterly impossible to shop for.

In the age of gift cards and e-greetings, it’s so easy for gift giving to become impersonal and detached. Our girl knows it’s not the price tag that matters, it’s the sentiment behind the gift that really racks up the brownie points. I’m stocking up on all the art supplies we need to keep our little Frida/Van Gogh/Picasso smocked up and painting. It’s so important to support our kids and encourage them creatively and artistically. Whether it’s a homemade greeting card, a dozen expertly baked sugar cookies, or a t-shirt decorated with fabric paint, let your kids know their creativity is appreciated, valued, and worth more than a million bucks.

Plus, my daughter’s painting is going to pay for her Dad’s and my retirement once it’s hanging at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Thanks again honey.

Posted by Melody at 02:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (1)

To iPhone, or not to iPhone… that is the question. Apple has done it again. Everyone and their grandmother is anxiously awaiting the release of Apple's new gotta-have gadget. It didn’t take long for the iPhone to get an upgrade with the new 3G model. Along with all of the features of the original, the new bigger and better iPhone promises faster data speeds as well as built-in GPS.

I don't have a great sense of direction, so the GPS will certainly come in handy. I have Mom on constant speed-dial so she can help me get to where I need to go when lost, driving aimlessly on I-95. Hopefully the new phone has better business applications on top of the new GPS (i.e. I use mine 90% for calendars and business contacts, 10% for talking with friends and kids). Hey, I just read the iPhone software upgrade will allow users to access their corporate mail with Exchange support and VPN. Now we’re talking.

My dilemma is, do I buy one now… or do I wait until the next upgraded iPhone comes out with even better features? I am a Shopaholic after all, but sometimes it's better to hold out until something better comes along. The g4 model will probably do my taxes, feed the dog and give me a mani-pedi.

They’re highly anticipating long, unbearable lines outside Apple Stores on July 11th when this new must have device of the year is unveiled.

Personally, I would NEVER wait in line. I've gone so far as to send my gynecologist a bill for keeping me waiting 3 hours in his office. I told him that if he ever keeps me waiting like that again, I will find a new doctor. My time is just as valuable as his (and he gets the benefit of watching me spread my legs open!).

In summation, the new iPhone is worth a look and I don't wait in lines for anything!

Posted by Melody at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

No Camp Picnic.

Summer Camp. A time for hot fun in the summertime. A time for making new friends that will last a lifetime. A time for swimming, kayaking, s’mores, ghost stories and enjoying all of those fun camp pranks (Saran wrap on the toilet seat, always a winner). For the kids, camp is a blast. For adults…not so much.

Flashback. Two weeks ago I was schlepping through Target with my two daughters, an unruly shopping cart and a list of camp supplies clenched in hand. It was a nightmare. The girls were all over the place. Bickering and fighting, focused on different items in different aisles and I…I needed a Xanax. I kept hearing the same words in my head as if replaying on a loop…over and over.

“Why didn’t I order everything online?”

It’s that time of year again. My two girls are off at sleepaway camp for four weeks, and I’m still recovering from all the work it took to get them properly outfitted and ready to go with their endless supply of camp gear.

I should have known better. I’m a founding partner of Catalogs.com for goodness sake, where was my head at? Just browsing through our list of catalog titles I realize I could have ordered everything we needed at the click of a button, at better prices to boot. Camp clothes, bathing suits, swim caps and goggles, sunscreen, sleeping bags, flashlights and stationery for them to write sweet letters home to dear old Mom and Dad.

If I had only thought ahead I could’ve spent more time loading up on hugs to last me the four weeks they’d be gone instead of wasting time and energy playing peacemaker through the crowded aisles of Target. Oh well, no use crying over overpriced camp gear. You live and you learn.

Next year, I order early…Or maybe the girls should stay home with me next Summer. Mom’s suffering from a severe case of the Kids at Camp blues.

Posted by Melody at 01:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I’ve been pretty positive in my last few posts. Okay, except for the line about whacking unmotivated people in the kneecaps with a sugar cane stick, but for the most part I’ve been in good spirits and feeling rather inspired. I’m due for a rant, so hold onto your hat.

I am a business woman. I help run a successful online company that is growing and expanding every day. On average I receive anywhere between twenty to seventy-five voicemails a week. That’s right, I barely have enough time to crank out this blog. It’s a little overwhelming at times, but there’s something about returning messages and clearing out my voicemail that gives me a sense of accomplishment. Like having a clean desk. Or a clean linen closet.

*Note to self, clean desk and linen closet.

I know I’ve touched on this before in earlier posts, but apparently no one is catching on, so here I go again. I strongly believe that there is a fine art to leaving a good telephone message. When leaving a message for anyone, whether it’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, or my sixteen year old babysitter, I am always clear, succinct, and to the point. If only everyone were as considerate as yours truly. I absolutely loathe it when people leave rushed phone messages where you can barely make out the area code to call back, much less the entire phone number.

Hello?! Where’s the fire? How am I supposed to call you back? Deciphering your message becomes as difficult a chore as solving the DaVinci code, which I unfortunately don’t have the time for. I can barely handle Sudoku.

Here’s a word of advice, especially if you’re leaving a phone message relating to business. Take your time and leave your number in a slow paced one-potato, two-potato count fashion. Or better yet, leave your number twice. That way if I can’t make it out the first time, you can possibly redeem yourself the second time around. Then I won’t have to *star 69 you. I really hate that. And you might mention the best time to reach you or an alternate cell phone number too, just to cover your bases. Get the message?

Hopefully we won't need a Phone Etiquette Take Four.

Posted by Melody at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

As I’ve written about in past posts, my Mother has had a tough time medically. She is an amputee and has been undergoing even more serious health battles in the last few weeks. Sometimes I think to myself, hasn’t she had enough? Really, how much can one woman take? One thing about Mom though, she never gets depressed. She gets pissed off. Over the years I’ve been amazed to see her anger turn into drive. Instead of whining about doctors visits, biopsies and blood tests, she looks up physical activities and exercises on the internet. Instead of going on a shopping spree to drown her sorrows in retail therapy, she donates to non-profit organizations and charities.

Mom has taught me so many things…how to brush my teeth…how to sort my laundry so everything doesn’t turn out pink…how to make a killer brisket. Most importantly, she’s taught me how to give back. One of the charities she’s involved with is AAC (Adventure Amputee Camp), a volunteer based charity that dedicates their time to giving limb deficient children the summer of a lifetime.

It warms my heart when I come across people who donate their time, money, and energy to serving charities they have a personal involvement or attachment to. Donating money and time to charities is so important and should be part of EVERY person’s life no matter how much you make or how busy your calendar is.

I make it a point to teach my kids how to give back as well…just like Mom taught, and continues to teach me. Whether it’s donating clothing and shoes they’ve grown out of to those in need, buying and delivering brand new packaged Toys for Tots come Christmas time, or selflessly donating hair to Locks of Love, my children realize they are fortunate enough to have shirts on their backs, plenty of food on their table, and warm beds to sleep in. Not everyone is as lucky.

I try to express to them that giving to others is giving to yourself as well. It may not provide you with anything material, but it’s giving you pride, a conscience, a sense of community…and self worth. You can’t buy that in a store.

Posted by Melody at 09:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I mentioned recently that one of my daughters just accomplished an incredible feat. My little girl just received her black belt in karate. It seems like only yesterday I was feeding her strained peas in her highchair. The good old days when she couldn’t stand up without toppling over and falling on her tush. Now she was standing in plié position for what seemed like hours, without wincing while being smacked with a sugar cane stick by her sensei. Yes, Mr. Miyagi would indeed be proud of my Karate Kid.

I was thrilled when she received her white belt. Ecstatic when handed her red belt. Awhile later I thought her purple belt would go great with a little denim mini. When I saw her waving her black belt over her head with pride, I couldn’t contain myself. She had committed to something, and mastered it.

There are so many reasons why I enrolled my daughter in karate classes. One - it’s a great form of exercise, promoting good health and fitness. My heart swells with pride when I see her practicing her martial arts moves instead of plastering herself on the couch watching tv or playing video games. Two - Self defense. No bully is ever gonna mess with this girl. Three - Sharpening mental discipline and prowess.

My daughter’s discipline astounds me. I myself still haven’t gotten past the first of my New Year’s resolutions. In order to receive her prized belt, my girl performed 500 push-ups, 500 sit-ups, 1000 jumping jacks, and performed wheelbarrows and other boot-camp worthy combative drills across the length of a soccer field.

We all know what happened when I tried spinning.

It makes me realize how motivation can begin young, and it’s so important to encourage our kids to reach for the stars and work at something until they master it. You can never be too young to prove yourself, or too old. I’ve noticed how some adults can also be equally motivated to succeed in their careers if they possess that internal motivation from within, that fire in their belly. It’s only those who give up trying and blame the world for their problems that make me sick to my stomach. I have no patience for them and think they all deserve a swift sugar cane whack to the kneecaps to get them back in gear.

Lookout Jose, I’ll be at spinning class first thing tomorrow morning.

Posted by Melody at 02:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (4)

Normally my social calendar conflicts with my family’s social calendar, and I don’t always make it to as many personal “Mom time” events as I would like. Last Thursday night was different. I caught the first three quarters of my daughter’s black belt karate test (which she rocked by the way), and rushed to a 45th birthday party celebration for one of my oldest and dearest friends Carolyn.

It wasn’t a regular birthday party. There were drinks involved, and delicious food, but bigger celebrations were in order on top of turning the big 4-5. Let me tell you a little bit about Carolyn...

Carolyn used to be a junk food junkie. She lived on fast food and never used a pot. Now Carolyn is an organic nut. Transformed, she will consume no sugar or alcohol and prides herself on being all natural. The birthday celebration was at a vegan restaurant no less. She has discovered a new, healthier lifestyle and is finally getting some use out of all those housewares that had been collecting dust. Carolyn also used to be a professional fundraiser. A working Mom like me who never seemed to have the time to complete all of the things on her ever growing to-do list.

Two years ago things changed. Carolyn was diagnosed with breast cancer. For two years now, having beaten the odds, the birthday girl has the proud distinction of being called a Breast Cancer Survivor. Now, Carolyn fills her days sending inspirational messages to other women and breast cancer victims and survivors…reaching out to others who are in need. Changing lives. To call her an inspiration just doesn’t do her justice. Through it all she’s managed to see the light, maintain her friendships, be a fantastic mom and keep her wicked sense of humor.

After we all took turns giving weepy speeches honoring our brave survivor warrior, Carolyn in turn took center stage and managed to turn the evening into a roast poking delicious fun at every single one of her sappy guests. My favorite jab- when she told one of our more petite girlfriends that she was so short she’ll probably end up tripping on her tampon strings one day. In five minutes time, she managed to turn all of our tears into laughter. That’s Carolyn.

I drove home in awe and made it a point from this day forward to not only stop and smell the roses, but to stop and call the girlfriends. I am a proud wife and mother, proud to devote as much time as I can to the family I love so dearly, but we all get carried away with our day to day lives and need to remember we have an extended family out there of sisters. Sisters who may not be blood related, but touch our hearts every day.

Happy Birthday Carolyn. I can’t wait to see what the big 5-0 will bring.

Posted by Melody at 12:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (6)