The curse of the LEGO tape and the joy of crowdfunding

The curse of the #LEGO tape and the joy of #crowdfunding - www.alliepottswrites.comDeep in a dark and ancient pyramid, a forbidden chest was opened, and an evil the likes of which had never seen was loosed upon an unsuspecting world (well maybe not an ancient pyramid per se, more like a standard rectangular room, but the lighting back there is poor and the box isn’t allowed to be opened unless a parent is in the room. Okay, so the box’s contents probably aren’t evil, but you can’t say they are entirely good either, so I’m going with it).

It was a plot that would turn dreams into nightmares…It was the curse of the LEGO tape.

It all started innocently enough. It was Spring. Perhaps it was the pollen in the air. Perhaps it was the rising humidity. We may never know the reason. But on this day, the computer was on.

“Kiddo, look what I found.” This as become a rather ominous phrase in my house.

“What is it, dad?”

It’s something called LEGO tape.”

“Coooooooooooool. Can we get it?” Considering I’m pretty sure my son is on a singular quest to collect every single LEGO set ever manufactured, I can only imagine what was going through his head as he watched the video play. You mean I can cover my floors AND my walls in LEGOs? Sign me up!

“Well, you see it’s not yet in stores. They aren’t actually making any yet.”

If our son were a robot, I’m sure he would have said, does not compute. “But the video shows it. Right there.”

“That’s just a prototype. This is a crowdfunding site. They are asking money to make more and the people who give them money now will be the first to get the tape when it goes into production.” My husband launched a business several years ago and has a soft spot for others taking the plunge. Therefore, I can excuse the enthusiasm he projects when discussing entrepreneurialism with our children, but it can be contagious.

“Can we give them money?”

“Sure. Why not?” Why not? Is there another question in the English language that deserves more to go unasked?

May

“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”

“Not yet. I don’t think it was supposed to be ready until this summer.”

June

“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”

“Not yet. Be patient.”

July

“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”

“Not yet. They probably ran into a production delay. That happens sometimes.”

August

“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”

“Not yet.” At this point you might be realizing my summer devolved into an extended version of the whole, ‘Are we there yet?’ question, which is the second most deserving question to go unasked.

You’d be right.

Still August

affiliate link – go ahead and click it if you are interested. Yes, it is this simple to find in stores.

“We just need to pop into the toy store to pick up a present for your friend’s party this weekend.”

“Okay, mom.”

“Oh, my gosh. Is that what I think that is?”

“It’s LEGO tape. But I thought I was supposed to get it before the stores.”

“Er, I thought so too. Maybe it’s another brand or something.” To be fair, there are now a number of variants in the marketplace. Who knew LEGO tape would have such fierce competition? Maybe had we known, we might not have been so quick to back the product, but those are the risks you take in crowdfunding. It’s also a good reminder to always do your due diligence on any investment.

Yep, still August

“I’m never going to get my LEGO tape.”

“I know you’re disappointed, but things like this happen sometimes. It’s in the stores now. We can get it for your birthday if we have to.”

September

“Hey Kiddo, you got an email from the company. They’ve apologized for the delay. Your LEGO tape is coming. There’s even a tracking number.”

“It’s going to get lost in the mail. I just know it.” Kiddo has a legitimate reason to worry. Our local post office is notorious for missed shipments and delayed deliveries. His disappointment would only be made worse after the build-up of the summer-long waiting game.

The next day

 

The day after that

 

I have to say I grew somewhat troubled by the fact that Kiddo had stopped asking whether the LEGO tape had shipped. Would his very first experience with crowdfunding go on to be his last? He’d been so eager to be a part of something bigger than himself, especially if it resulted in more LEGOs.

After seeing how high his hopes had flown, I hated to see them plummet like this, but this was one of those times that I couldn’t kiss a boo-boo and make it better. He’d taken a risk. It hadn’t worked out. Not everything he tries in life will be a success. He might as well learn to accept that now so he can focus on the positive side. As much as I wish it didn’t hurt so much at the moment, it is our failures that make us appreciate our later successes all the more.

We moved on. We started planning his birthday list.

I received a text from my husband one evening. “LEGO tape came in. He’s a little excited.”

The kids met me at the door and brought me to their rooms, eager to show off what they’d done already. You might have mistaken a day in late September as Christmas morning. If my husband entrepreneurial enthusiasm is infections, it has nothing on the joy that is knowing a child’s wish has come true.

The curse of the LEGO tape - www.alliepottswrites.com
What to get when you don’t want your feet to be the only body part injured during nighttime check-ins

 

The Pokemon Exchange and one elementary success

The #Pokemon Exchange and one #elementary #success - www.alliepottswrites.comIt was a quiet morning. This was most unusual as it was also my turn to escort my kids as well as two of their school aged cousins to the bus stop. Now normally, I would have soothed at least one tear fest, brokered a toy sharing deal that would make a UN negotiator proud, or cleaned up someone’s accident by this point, but none of this had happened. I was immediately suspicious.

I found my eldest, Kiddo and his cousin, Casimir, deep into discussions in the center of our den. Sipping my coffee, I carefully approached, stopping close enough to listen in to the conversation, but far enough away as to not alert them to my attention. The green folder laying next to them coupled with an open white box told me all I needed to know. The source of my peaceful morning was none other than Pokemon.

My brothers, who are a wee bit younger than me, were told under the most severe threats of doom not to discuss Pokemon with my kids. I’d seen the madness that was their individual collections first hand. I’d heard their conversations with my stepmom about rare species and evolved forms. My ears had suffered under the constant refrain of the cartoon’s theme song once before. Not in my house, I’d decried.

But then the unthinkable happened. Pokemon Go became a thing,

Okay, Allie, I told myself, no need to panic. Kiddo doesn’t have a phone or anything (or at least he didn’t at the time). He’s not going to get sucked into playing the app.

And he didn’t. Something even worse happened. Some kid on the bus gave him and his cousin a few trading cards. The kid thought it was no big deal. After all, the cards were his or her duplicates and being apparently a nice well-meaning child, the kid simply wanted to share. Darn you public school system on your new emphasis on empathy, inclusion, and anti-bullying behavior!

Trading card the Pokemon Exchange on www.alliepottswrites.com
Catching them all together truly presents a challenge

Before I knew it, three cards became ten, which somehow continued to multiply to twenty to fifty. Kiddo, as sympathetic as the child on the bus, wanted to share his good fortune with his brother, LT. LT was delighted and their joint collection grew further. Despite my best efforts, I was forced to accept that Pokemon mania had taken root in my house. Reluctantly I raised the white flag.

My stepmom, who is likely overjoyed at the chance to de-clutter her house, was kind enough to divide my brother’s collection into boxes for each of the kids, leaving it up to them to broker individual trades later, which was exactly what Kiddo and Casimir were in the process of doing that morning.

Deal done, Casimir proudly announced to his sister, my niece, Xena that he had secured ten new cards all for a single rare whatsityacallit. Xena looked at the cards in his hands. Her eyes grew wide. “I want ten cards!” she declared rushing into the den where Kiddo still remained.

“Okay,” Kiddo nodded like a retail proprietor, “what will you trade?”

“I want ten cards,” Xena stated again.

“What are you going to trade for them?” Kiddo repeated.

“Trade?” She batted her eyelashes.

“Yeah. Casimir gave me a whatsityacallit. I will give you ten cards, but you have to give me a rare card. That’s a trade.”

“But I want them soooooo badly,” Xena replied.

I took another large gulp of my coffee as way of fortifying myself against whatever tantrum was sure to follow.

“I can give you one card, but I won’t give you ten unless you trade me for it.” Kiddo offered, diffusing the explosive situation. I supposed I might have interceded at this point, but if Kiddo wanted to be generous with his collection and we avoided a melt-down I was all for it. Bless that child.

Xena scanned his collection. Grinning from ear to ear she proudly held out her newest card for all the world to see as we made our way to the bus stop.

Now when I first observed this entire exchange, I thought the lesson worth sharing here was that no one will simply give you what you want just because you state you want it. You have to do the work. You have to make the trade. But now that I’ve written it all out, I realize that while my niece didn’t secure the ten cards she requested, she still managed to leave with more than she started out with, and at no personal cost. All she had to do was simply state her intended desire at the right place, right time, and most importantly of all to the right person.

My niece may have a future on Wall Street.

So I guess the lesson here is this – while doing the work certainly helps achieve an exponentially greater result, if you openly announce your goal, others are more likely to help you on your path to success (however you define the word).

To that end, (and those who know me understand how hard this next part is for me to do) I am announcing that in addition to writing books, I also offer design services including logo design, covers, and book formatting, because apparently writing books, being a mom, and working full-time leaves me with free time in need of filling (yes, I also think my head needs examination). You can check out samples of my work at Logo and Book Design Services. While I do use stock art, depending on budget, I can also offer a quote with custom photography or illustration and I’d love the opportunity to discuss a project with you.

May your goals for the new year be equally successful.

 

It helps if you buy a ticket

John, who was in financial difficulty, walked into a church and started to pray. ”Listen God,” John said. ”I know I haven’t been perfect but I really need to win the lottery. I don’t have a lot of money. Please help me out.”

He left the church, a week went by, and he hadn’t won the lottery, so he walked into a synagogue. ”Come on, God,” he said. ”I really need this money. My mom needs surgery and I have bills to pay. Please let me win the lottery.”

He left the synagogue, a week went by, and he didn’t win the lottery. So, he went to a mosque and started to pray again. ”You’re starting to disappoint me, God,” he said. ”I’ve prayed and prayed. If you just let me win the lottery, I’ll be a better person. I don’t have to win the jackpot, just enough to get me out of debt. I’ll give some to charity, even. Just let me win the lottery.”

John thought this did it, so he got up and walked outside. The clouds opened up and a booming voice said, ”John, buy a f’ing lottery ticket.”

There are a few variations on this joke out there. I found this version on at Comedy Central without specific author attribution. What I like about this version over the others is that in it, John seems like a pretty decent, open-minded guy. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to be instantly successful except for one thing – do the actual work.

There is a pretty good chance that neither you nor I were one of the lucky winners fortunate enough to share one-third of the $1.6 billion (that’s billion with a B) prize in the national lottery. Which means if we want to be successful, our only option left is to do the work. Unfortunately, in my case, this means heading out for another round of business travel. You’d think the day job would have learned by now not to send me on these sort of things. I should be back to writing as usual next week…that is unless I’ve won, in which case, I’ll still be writing, but with better scenery in the background.

As luck would have it, we are here

Earth as seen from Mars
Earth as seen from Mars
Image Credit: NASA/JPL/Cornell/Texas A&M

Here’s a fun fact to share at your next social gathering: a Martian year is almost exactly twice as long as an Earth year. This means that unless those intrepid explorers volunteering for a one-way trip get creative with their month names, they will spend two of our Januarys, Julys, and Decembers during their new home’s single orbit around the sun.

What they are setting out to do is fairly inspiring, but if their April was anything like mine, I feel sorry for them already. It wasn’t a month I’d like to repeat.

As much as I was trying to stay upbeat (at least once a week), April did its best to knock me down. LT was suffering and I couldn’t do a thing about it. A number of things at work contributed toward my first undeniable gray hair (no, definitely not a result of my getting older). To cope, I wrote a piece about poop, which even included cussing (my blog’s PG rating be darned).

It wasn’t sure about the piece, but as my deadline approached, I was procrastinating still seeking inspiration for something better. I read a number of my next door neighbor’s status updates on Facebook. Several years ago he had visited Nepal and was superimposing his recollections of the place with news stories about the earthquake. The images of the temples reminded me of my time at the Big Buddha in Hong Kong. The updates, however, made me rethink my problems. I was still going to be able to recover from the day’s stress in the comfort of my bed. I was still able to hold my son and tell him with near certainty that things would get better. Ah, perspective.

I left the poop piece in my drafts folder (you never know when you might be in desperate need of content), and published the Stairway piece instead. As luck would have it, the next week I received word that my blog had been nominated for the Premio Dardos Award.

There are a number of blog awards that float around, awarded from one blogger to another. While they rarely have monetary value or bring you international pop-star status overnight (we really need to work on that), they are a nice way of telling your peers that their work has been noticed and is valued. I immediately looked up what this award was all about.

The Premio Dardos Award is given to bloggers who transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values in the form of creative and original writing.

Premio Dardos Award
Someone likes me! They really like me!

I am honored, I am humbled, I am ever so relieved I left the poop piece in the slush pile. Hmmm, I really should consider giving my blog’s content editor a raise. In fact, I will do just that. Allie, look for an additional 5% in your next paycheck!

Next, I would like to thank Antiqua A La Carte for the nomination. This site, featuring stories of life beyond the beaches of the Caribbean has been my go-to escape for cloudy days (and even some sunny days as well). I now know exactly who to call if I am ever considering trying out island life.

Now onto my nominations. Drum roll, please. They are, in alphabetical order:

Alana Munro – The Author who supports: As advertised, this site is about supporting other writers, but has also helped open my eyes to the underlying reasons behind the Scottish Independence movement.

JT Twissel: A site that has articles spanning from world travel to at-risk foster children, but still finds a way to inject humor into even the heaviest topics.

Mark My Words: Officially this is a site about the Pacific Northwest, but could just as easily be described as a site about treating yourself as you deserve to be treated whether it is diet, relationships or simply better-enjoying life.

Tastehitch: This is a hilarious site by a British ex-patriot with a fondness for food and travel, attempting to survive the early years of parenthood in a foreign land.

Yadadarcyyada – Vague Meanderings of the Broke and Obscure: A site that is very much about being true to one’s self and is filled with amusing images and several articles sharing titles with songs that routinely get stuck in my head.

 

Who wants some candy?

The hubby and I recently joined a new gym having accidentally forgotten to forget to go on the scale after Thanksgiving. As part of our enrollment we were given the opportunity to meet with a trainer for our free personal fitness assessment / training plan. These meetings are much like the mandatory ‘information sessions’ you are forced to attend whenever you take advantage of a resort/timeshare’s ‘free’ vacation weekend. At my day job we call these meetings “sales calls”. The only difference is the prospect is coming to you and not the other way around.

Knowing what I was getting ready to go into, I decided not to eat anything the day of my fitness assessment (because that extra pound was definitely going to make the world of difference in my BMI). Unfortunately, I am like the Incredible Hulk when I am hungry. You wouldn’t like me when I am hungry.

I arrived at my appointment armed with a basic guesstimate as to what my results would be, as my insurance premiums are directly tied to periodic health assessments. I knew I had put on a few pounds, but who hadn’t? It was the middle of the holiday season! Biff, my assigned trainer (okay that’s a fake name, but it fits), met me in the lobby and took me for a quick tour around the various implements of self-inflicted torture equipment. I then was asked to stand on something that looked like an old transporter from the original Star Trek (only with handles). LEDs flashed. Assessing… assessing… wow lady you are out of shape – I am sure glad Biff is here to help you out!

Hungry Allie no like smug Biff. Hungry Allie think transporter full of [censored]. Hungry Allie smash transporter.

From the 1978 The Incredible Hulk episode &quo...
I kept my shirt on, but you get the basic idea (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Later (when my blood sugar had returned to normal) I realized I had a problem. My next insurance assessment was in January and I had been borderline for higher premiums before Thanksgiving. So I did what any person would do in my situation. I dusted off my fitbit and my myfitnesspal login, declared an embargo on sugar (except in my coffee – because me before drinking my coffee is almost as bad as me when I am hungry), cut out gluten, and limited my daily carbs to 100g. DEFCON 4!

By the time my insurance assessment came I had passed on two birthday cakes, pizza, donuts, two non-birthday cakes, and a stack of cookies. (It’s now clear as to why I put on a few). I had gritted my teeth and gone to the gym instead. All the free goodies were tempting, but the desire to prove that judgmental transporter wrong was stronger (I don’t blame Biff. He is obviously paired with a cruel and defective piece of machinery).

Ultimately, I won this particular battle. (In your electronic face, transporter!) I may still borderline, but thanks to my hard work and sacrifice, I managed to stay in my insurance group. I earned my right to celebrate. During my victory lap, one of my colleagues congratulated me and offered me some candy from her stash.

I found myself hesitating. Why? My goal was achieved. I didn’t have to hold back from the sweets any longer. I wouldn’t be cheating on myself by enjoying a little snack, and yet I found that I almost didn’t want it. That first easy snack to cross my way just didn’t seem a worthy reflection of my effort.

Part of me didn’t want my goal to end. I had achieved what I set out to do, but I knew I could be so much better if I just kept working.

This image was selected as a picture of the we...
Small rewards add up (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had to then recognize that my ‘better’ didn’t have a deadline associated with it. It was a vision, but not a goal. Sure I have a number in mind, but no good plan to get there. I could keep doing what I had been doing, but that was a knee jerk response to an immediate problem. It isn’t a sustainable lifestyle change (at least not for me). I know I would eventually fail. Even worse, I would miss out on the small rewards I could have enjoyed along the way.

As most writers will tell you, there comes a point when you have to hit the submit button on your manuscript (or otherwise show your work to the world). Could you have written (or executed) it better? If your answer is “umm…maybe” and not a solid “yes,” move on and do so with the next one. I have my vision. It is time to set a new supporting goal and execute on it. I celebrated my small win.

Yes – I ate that chocolate (it really was the polite thing to do), and the next day I hit the gym again. When the next cake comes around, I will be ready. On to the next goal.