My son Andrew and I went to New York City this past Saturday for our annual trip to the New York International Auto Show. Andrew has been a car buff since a very young age, but now that he’s older, he combines that enthusiasm with a very sophisticated sensibility about automobile design, marketing, business strategy, and performance. It’s an education to accompany him throughout the entire exhibition; in fact, I’m more than happy to take my cues directly from him about what I should and shouldn’t like, or should and shouldn’t be impressed by.

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Sleek, great lines…I can’t wait to bring one of these home

We also use the opportunity to explore Manhattan and, in a little bit of a switch, he gets to look up to me. To a fifteen year-old growing up in a small town in Vermont, New York City is a stimulating, strange planet of sophistication, temptations and…well, life. My own career has given me an education in the more interesting delights of the island, and the fact that I know where to get a great milkshake in Hell’s Kitchen makes me in his eyes, well…less of a dweeb. At least temporarily.

Some observations from an afternoon of people watching and walking about:

One. The vast, vast majority of consumers don’t seem to be the least bit interested in an automobile’s performance. People are less attracted by good engineering, instead perferring to be exclusively mesmerized by a vehicle’s creature comforts. Not surprisingly, manufacturers have picked up on this, and the auto show was consistently characterized (in my view) by an odd emphasis on marketing cars as mobile living rooms or entertainment centers. I saw flat panel televisions that drop out of the roof and pivot in all directions; center-stack audio, video and environment controls that rival in sophistication many primary flight displays in modern jets; and, in a concept vehicle from Nissan, a rear seat that was essentially a plush, curved sofa. Is anybody planning on paying attention to the road? And do we really need minivans a fourteenth century baron would consider an outstanding home for his wife and their fourteen children?

Two. This is an impressive vehicle, both aesthetically and in promised performance. Boy, Hyundai has come a long way. My wife’s first car was a Hyundai she paid $4,995 for brand new; if you held it up to the light, you could almost see through it.

Three. Honda had a blonde at the show. Don’t worry, honey; she looked like a slut.

Four. The environmental and “green” movements have jumped the shark — or are about to. “Green” has become almost a parody of marketing hype — an “industry of cool.” One manufacturer’s presentation included an almost carnival barker-like description of how the interior burled wood trim came from old furniture scraps and the carpet is made entirely from banana silk fibers rather than — gasp! — petroleum. No word on how these vehicles can be produced economically (and without depleting the earth’s banana reserves) so the slack-jawed dude from New Jersey standing there in his shiny track suit and his gold chains can afford one, but this company has a soul, man, and, hey, now you can buy one too.

A Tale of Two Cathedrals

So we walked up to the Apple store on Fifth Avenue. There was a line to approach the clear glass cube that serves as the above-ground entry to the smoky plexiglass stairway where you descend to join a mob of worshippers, all reverently seeking the hope, peace and a better life where a trinity of design, information and entertainment all converge in a stunning facsimile of perfection.

A few blocks south sits St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It, too, is a “retail” presence of a movement that offers hope, peace and a better life. There was no line outside.

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AuthorJoseph Fusco
CategoriesReflections

OK. So this is a test of two things.

First, does anybody anywhere actually visit (and read) this silly, self-indulgent stuff I write?

Second, does anybody anywhere actually want to be my friend?

Here’s the deal — in late-April, early-May, the blonde and I will be travelling from our home in Vermont to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and back again. I’ll be in no particular hurry; instead, we’ll be meandering over the back roads and scenic by-ways of the several states that comprise a general, though not perfect, straight line between Point A (Vermont) and Point B (Chapel Hill).

If you live along this general route, let’s connect. I’ll buy you lunch, or whatever, and, as an added bonus, interview you as part of this site’s occasional “Conversations” series.

Drop me a note, or leave me a comment.

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AuthorJoseph Fusco
CategoriesNews
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One of the things we know from the sheer volume of “spam” we receive is that there are endless amounts and varieties of human appetites and endless amounts and varieties of people willing to satisfy them.

And yet, we learn something new every day, don’t we?

This enticing subject line dropped into my spam filter the other day:

“Teenage hotties at their liberal best”

I just might click on that one. I’m actually quite curious about the complex and thoughtful arguments the younger generation is making in favor of universal health care.

What…aren’t you?

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AuthorJoseph Fusco
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Here’s a new word I’ve invented:

Techo

Techo — a hybrid of “technology” and “echo” — describes the increasingly maddening habit of resending, or “echoing,” the same usually mundane or useless message by different technologies in everyday interpersonal communications.

Here’s an illustration: several managers I know report receiving phone calls from people asking them, “did you get my email?” almost instantaneous with the receipt of the email. Slightly different example: one manager has even received an email with the request, “Call me.”

My guess is there are two kinds of people who create “techoes:” (1) folks who just can’t seem to trust all them invisible tubes and wires that make up the Network, or (2) self-absorbed people who’ve been cutting into lines their whole lives.

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AuthorJoseph Fusco

I rely on my children’s schools — virtually on faith alone — to do an excellent job teaching them literature, math, biology and history and so on.

But what scares me most is that I have no one to rely on but myself to teach them the skills I have come to understand play the most significant role in their pursuit of happiness, success and achievement — passion, commitment, focus and resiliency.

This wonderful story is from Hollywood Remembered, an oral history of the movie industry. It is an interview with producer A.C. Lyles, who worked at Paramount for over 60 years. This is the kind of child would hope I could raise to adulthood, even as I realize how terribly inadequate I most likely am, both as a teacher and a role model.

“When I was 10 [in 1928] I wanted to make movies…

aclyle.jpg“I had seen a picture called Wings — the first and only silent picture to win the Academy Award — with Clara Bow… and a new fella named Gary Cooper [who subsequently became a huge star]. I went and just fell in love with that picture. It was a Paramount picture playing at the Paramount Theater [at the time, the studios owned the theaters] in Jacksonville. I had seen that it said Adolph Zukor Presents, so I was in awe of Adolph Zukor [the founder and CEO of Paramount]. I spoke to the manager of the theater that day [to see] if he would give me a job. And he gave me a job handing out leaflets…

“After four years in the job [he was then 14] I eventually met Adolph Zukor… when he came to Jacksonville. I asked him to let me come to Hollywood to work for him. He said, “Well, you’re just a kid, but you’ve been working for Paramount now for four years at the theater. So you finish high school, keep in touch, and I’ll hire you when you get out of high school.”

“Now that was extremely kind of him… when he said to keep in touch and finish high school, my main objective then was to finish high school. But the most important thing was writing him a letter every Sunday. He didn’t tell me to write him every Sunday, he just told me to keep in touch. So I wrote him every Sunday for four years.

“He didn’t write back — I didn’t hear from him but it didn’t matter. I never lost confidence or lost courage. I just knew he was looking forward to my letter each week as much as I was looking forward to writing him.

“One day Gary Cooper came to my hometown. I was writing movie news for the hometown paper. I saw Mr. Cooper and I told him I would be out here in Hollywood to work at Paramount as soon as I got out of high school. And there again, for some reason, he took a quick liking to me. I told him about my letters to Zukor every Sunday and he asked me what I would be writing about this week, and I said, “Oh, about meeting you, Mr. Cooper.”

“So he said, “Give me a piece of paper.” So he… wrote a note to Adolph Zukor saying, “I’m looking forward to seeing this kid on the lot.” So I wrote to Mr. Zukor telling him I had met Gary Cooper and enclosed the note to him.

“Then I heard from Mr. Zukor indirectly. A woman named Sidney Brecker, who was his secretary, wrote to me and said, “Mr. Zukor has been receiving your letters. But he feels that you don’t have to write every week. If you wrote once every three or four or five months, that would be enough.”

“Well, that didn’t discourage me at all. I continued to write to Mr. Zukor every Sunday. But I also had a new pigeon, Sidney Brecker, his secretary. So I wrote her every Sunday too. My whole main objective all week was what I was going to write to Mr. Zukor. Then I had to write another original letter to Sidney Brecker…

“I wrote [Zukor] a letter every Sunday for four years, keeping in touch. The day I got out of high school [in 1936, in the heart of the Great Depression], I was in a day coach headed for Hollywood, where you sit up — probably four days and four nights. I had $48 in cash that I had saved up, and two loaves of bread, and two jars of peanut butter and a sack of apples, and I headed for Hollywood. Got off the train downtown, took the streetcar straight to Paramount, and told them at the gate to tell Mr. Zukor I was here.

“And I’ve been here ever since.”

I would be willing to forgive almost any variety of numbers or letters on their report cards if they genuinely demonstrated this kind of heart.

But for now, that’s just between us.

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AuthorJoseph Fusco