Working like a machine?

I love it when marketing campaigns get really creative. It’s not all about free products, either. If they’re going to grab me on my way to work – and heaven-forbid stand in a queue – then they gotta make me smile.

This morning, Nestlé Kit Kat, did just that.

Hopping off the bus at Wynyard I noticed a line forming, leading to a large red vending machine. Free Kit Kats? Yum.

Following successful campaigns in Japan and the UK, a human vending machine was set up to offer lucky passersby the opportunity to stop working like a machine and, ‘Have a break. Have a Kit Kat.’ One poor – yet seemingly very happy – guy was stuck in said-vending machine and it was the consumer’s job to tell him which bar they were after. The only catch was that we had to make him work for it! Choose bars that were high, low, to-the-side… make him reach.

With camera crews all around I thought for sure there’d be more pics online by now, alas, I had to scrounge one from a London-based initiative (see above)… I’m far too self-conscious nowadays to pull out my own camera phone and take a picture. No way! I grabbed my free chocolate bar and ran.

After all, I had work to do.

Have you been 'Dr. Phil-ed'?

I have. And I do.

It started about ten years ago when the straight-talking (former football-playing giant) psychologist started making guest appearances on Oprah (the two go way back to Oprah’s Amarillo Texas beef trial-days). In 2002 when his syndicated, The Dr. Phil Show, first aired I went so far as to set my VCR to record it daily (sadly live coverage was scheduled at the same time as my first-year uni lectures!). Dr. Phil (aka. Dr. Phillip Calvin McGraw) was a breath of fresh air. And much like the term, “to Google”, people from all walks of life began “Dr. Phil-ing” each other: re-working Phil-isms into their lives*.

No ifs, buts or maybes, Phil helped people, “get in control” of their lives.

So last Thursday when a spare ticket to his one-off Sydney show at the Acer Arena came floating by my desk – including wine and dining in the company’s corporate box – I jumped up and got control… of said-ticket.

It was only as I was sitting in the back seat of my Director’s car on our way to Acer, listening to her conversation with her other passenger – a National Group Sales manager – that I realised I was in for more than just an evening of motivational speaking. I was networking.

Yes, I got to sip of company wine, schmooze clients and talk holidays and shopping with people way above my career-station… it was fun. And I got to hear good ol’ Phil. He even brought doting and dutiful wife, Robin, to the stage (to prove their marriage is not on the skids). We got Dr. Phil-ed – this time on the seven attributes of successful people, abridged from his best-selling book, Life Strategies.

I listened – at first slightly put off by his crappy mike setup – and started nodding along with the rest of the crowd. I was going to take something from this fortuitous freebie… and then he drolled off successful trait number six. What? How did I miss one-to-five? Must have been the red wine.

Amused by the enlightenment that my sub-standard listening skills probably ruined my chances of becoming one of the world’s most successful people, I attempted to take note of traits six and seven.

Six: Successful people have a nucleus – a group of people around them pivotal to supporting and encouraging their success.
Seven: Successful people have passion – for their life and for what they aim to achieve.

Excellent. Got it. More red wine, please.

A typical Gen-Yer, I went home and “Googled” the rest!

In it together

I’m all about endurance sport. I know that my body wasn’t built for short bursts of speed; star jumps and high kicks ground me as well. I would pack a zillion things into a single day, if I could, but just don’t make me sprint to each appointment – I’ll arrive sweaty and unhappy.

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they exercise: I have good muscle memory, enjoy strength training, like to count reps and could happily power walk for hours on end. I love the journey and feel revived once I reach my destination.

I think that’s why I spend so much time with my family. They ground me. Their support gives me strength and helping them inturn flexes my muscles. And I’d happily walk to the ends of the earth for any one of them.

They would do the same for me.

On Saturday Mum and I held a stall at Rozelle Markets. We started early – 7am – and stood with our backs to the wind all day. We were selling old knick-knacks Mum had collected, a bunch of old clothes and a pile of books. Our trash and treasure had filled the car to bursting… in the end we made just under $280. A neat hundred each once the stall and a couple of take-away coffees had been paid for. We vowed never to do one again.

But it was nice to spend the day together. Bond over bric-a-brac, talk about stuff. So we didn’t make a fortune and ended up donating most of our wares to fellow stall owners – who needs money when you have each other? At least that’s how we felt once we were out of the bitter cold and blood and warmth had returned to our hands, feet and cheeks.

From standing nine-hours to running 14 kilometres, I took on the City2Surf on Sunday. Somewhat of a family tradition, this year Dad was celebrating his eleventh consecutive C2S (no mean feat for a 63-year-old), my sisters their fifth (each now a mother to bubs three-years and under) and me, marking my C2S-return, post-NYC and London.

Dad and middle-Sis had the finish line firmly in their sights; both having trained to beat last year’s times. Elder-Sis and I were simply enjoying the sunshine. When your sisters are sleep deprived thanks to waking-babies, currently breastfeeding and still up for making the mission from Hyde Park to Bondi it’s hard not to be a little awe-struck – walking or running, just getting out of the house is hard for most young mums.

So when Dad and m-Sis sprinted off at the gun, e-Sis and I took off at a canter. We jogged, we walked; weaved in-and-out of the crowd and moved to the side when sprinters came from behind. Best of all we nattered away. She got her a whole morning away from the kidlets and I got two hours of her undivided attention – a very rare treat post-bubs.

At the finish the four of us reconvened at Bondi Icebergs. Dad grinning from ear-to-ear having run his fastest time ever – 92-minutes – m-Sis thrilled with 80-minutes and e-Sis and I content with having done it together. Tomorrow we’ll all look out for the Sun-Herald happy snaps taken as we crossed the line. Today we nurse tight muscles. But yesterday was our day – our ‘family thing’ – to remember.

My Sister's Keeper

I’m the kind of girl who can be moved to tears watching a 30-second TV commercial. Little kids, old people. The sick, the dying… a malnourished puppy – just add music – my throat gets tight and my chest heaves. I cry.

So l knew that going to see My Sister’s Keeper with my Mumma was going to get me sobbing – I just didn’t realise the effect if would have on my persistent blocked nose. Luckily said-Mumma had a bag full of tissues and needless to say I can now breathe freely; two weeks with a snuffed up schnoz sorted during the course of a 109-minute flick.

But seriously, have you seen this film? It’s fabulous.

Happily married couple, Sara and Brian, have the perfect family life until they find out their two-year-old daughter has leukaemia. In order to save the life of one child they bring another into the world – a perfect donor match in the form of Anna. And so begins more than a decade of blood and bone marrow donations from sister to sister, constant hospital stays and ultimately the dissolving of Sara and Brian’s happy family dynamic. When Anna calls on the services of a top defence lawyer, to seek medical emancipation, a messy and traumatic reality becomes even more tragic.

Yes the subject matter is horrible and sad and full of life’s-not-fair moments, but the actors are all incredibly well cast – Cameron Diaz is amazing as the fiercely single-minded mother, Sara, and Sofia Vassilieva gives a vivid portrayal of the dying girl, Kate – and both sides of the coin/dilemma are explored, developed and ultimately given credence. You can’t hate Sara for the choices she’s made and you can’t fault her children for their actions.

In my life I’ve known parents with sick children, and friends who’ve lost siblings – I can’t possibly begin to imagine their grief. The tears I shed for one small film are nothing compared to the convulsions I would have were I to lose a sister or any member of my family. Family is everything to me and I hope one day to have children of my own – but the scary thing is that the more people who are important to you the more you have to lose.

But I suppose it’s what you have that keeps you going and what you had that keeps memories alive.

In the film’s final sequence, Anna says it best, “What’s important is that I had a sister. And she was fantastic.”