No. Way. Do you hear that? It’s Christmas music. Are you frikking kidding me? Already? My pumpkin latte is still warm and now it’s time for the egg nog latte.

Okay, whatever. So the retail people have decided that the holidays have started. Like it or not, right?

So I was thinking that, you know, as long as it’s here (and I’ll likely be saying this in July next year), small businesses may as well start taking advantage of it.

Take advantage of the need for shopping ease

I don’t sell products,* but if I did I would start throwing together my holiday deals now. One idea that struck my multi-color bulb laden head (and this idea is yours to keep, although you probably thought of it, too) is this: If you sell stuff (knitted products, e-books, or some kind of consulting service), why not offer a holiday gift package or online gift card?

For example, if you offer a consulting service and you have an e-book, throw ‘em together and sell them in a sweet, limited-time holiday package. Or, you could sell an online gift card-type thing. It can also be a fantastic marketing tool.

For example, if someone purchases one of your gift cards, ask them for the e-mail of the person they’re giving it to. After the holidays, send an e-mail to say hello and remind them that they’ve got some credit with you.

Or something like that.

Again, I’m sure you’ve thought of this stuff already because I am kind of slow in this area. It may be painfully obvious, but I’m not a marketing genius, I’m a graphics dude. For example, I looked up and suddenly it’s Thanksgiving. So now I have zero time to create Thanksgiving-themed art. See? I’m already behind.

Speaking of my real area of expertise, one thing to be careful of about offering holiday gift cards and online e-mails is that sometimes the graphics can wind up looking cheesy. Then, the people who get them feel like it’s a bargain-basement gift – even if the actual value is huge. They can also look hip and modern, like Apple’s iTunes gift cards, but companies like Apple and Target have ginormous ad budgets.

You probably don’t have a ginormous ad budget, so that kind of sucks.

However, before rushing into some random, crappy, out-of-the-box themed clip-art to stick on your e-mail or printable certificate, think about how the end recipient will feel about your thing when they see a pixelated Santa (jeez, is he wearing a thong? ewww) staring back at them. Don’t they feel special?

*Okay, oops. I do sell a product. I just forgot when I wrote that. I told you I suck at marketing.

The Clarence Holiday Promo Package

Have you seen It’s a Wonderful Life? If you haven’t, go watch it. I’m sure it’s playing on six different channels right now.

Anyway, Clarence – George’s guardian angel – is kind of a frustrating dude, right? He’s all, “George, I’m here to help you,” but then he’s like, “Sorry, George, I can’t do anything about that.”

Makes you want to slap him.

Well, I would love to be your Clarence for a month. Wait… I mean, without the frustration and slapping.

Listen, I know my custom illustration is expensive (I know because I set the prices). Maybe for a temporary holiday deal like you’re going to do (you’re doing this, right? C’mon!) you don’t want to spend $450 for an urban-chic elf graphic or $1200 so I can lay out your promo PDF. Its cool. Save your cash for the Big Stuff, the long-term promotions, okay?

I can’t step in and create your thing for free or even cheap. But I can be like Clarence and help you see where you screwed up and show you how to fix it.

The first guidance I can give you is this: I beg you. Do NOT drag a badly-drawn and jaggy graphic from Google images and stick it on your promo. We are a visually-oriented culture and to us, crappy image = low value.

So like I said, I can’t lay it out for you for nothing. But I can sit with you on the phone for an hour while we both look at your promo and I tell you how to make it decent and non-embarrassing.

I’ll also help you find and evaluate stock images to put on your thing. I have tons of resources to get pre-made art. Of course they’re out there for everyone to find but of course, I know what works and what blows, how much it should cost and what’s legal. So let me handle that part while you focus on the guts of your promo thingy.

Here’s where you can help me get my wings and save your holiday promo from eternal damnation.

From “Black” Friday, November 27 through December 30th, I’ll be available to help you get your holiday promo created. Here’s how this works:

• You tell me about that holiday thing you’re doing.
• I will evaluate your promo layout and tell you exactly where it needs some visual love (i.e.; where it sucks and how to fix it). You get an hour of my time.
• If you need it, I’ll source at least three stock images and show them to you. You pick one.
• I’ll send you a high resolution version in any formats and sizes you need.
• I’ll tweet about your promo.

You get my expertise, attention, guidance, and a high-quality image for $99.

No discount codes, no “the price goes up in January” stuff. Just this simple offer of help for your thing.

If you’re thinking, “Jeez. I can do this myself, I have Photoshop and it will be just fine,” then dammit, you’re absolutely right. Whip that sucker out and don’t sweat the details.

If you’re worried about whether or not your promo might visually suck, Uncle Pants is here for you.

I’ll be nice, but I won’t hold back. I’ll tell you exactly where your promo needs fixing. Don’t worry, I’ll make it fun and you’ll get professional help. You might even learn a trick or two about formatting graphics. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Click on this link to get started. Or ring a bell, but the link works every time.

The Sparky Interview is a series of posts where I highlight independent creative people and companies who inspire me to be better at the stuff I do. They all wear their own brand of fire pants.

Libby and I first started working together in a midtown Manhattan insane asylum. By insane asylum, I mean litigation consulting firm. Creating forty-five bar charts at 3:00 AM for a courtroom presentation that same morning should not be considered by anyone to be an activity that emotionally balanced humans participate in. But there we were, with equally unbalanced attorneys sweating it out with us over the phone. We were all crazy. But we did things that defied the laws of possibility in graphics production.

These days, Libby and I have both created our own brands of helping people do crazy things with our graphics. The thing that impresses me most about Libby is her willingness to admit that she doesn’t know about a particular process – and then throws herself into becoming an expert without wasting any time.

I’ve also been dying to share her talents with you because her pattern collection is like hot buttered rum for your eyes. Not in a stinging, emergency-eye-wash-station kind of way. I mean, smooooth.

With that, I’ll just get into the interview and hear what Libby has to say.

Le Interview

Hi, Libby, thanks for being here. Please introduce yourself to our studio audience.

Hello, I’m Libby Unwin. I live in Denver with my husband, Matt, and dog, Molly. I like to draw.

Who is your ideal client?

Someone who is enthusiastic about the end result, someone who understands their role in the design process and enjoys it, and someone who knows when to say when. I’m a people-person, and like the nuances different personalities bring to each project. Sometimes the client is more fun than the work itself! (Can I say that out loud?)

Yes, please, say it! I wish more creative biz people would stop chasing the quick money and find the right people to work with so they could say that, too.

I notice you really, really like creating patterns and are amazing at it. What led you down that road and where do see it taking your business?

Aww, thanks! I’ve been doing this since I can remember. In the 8th grade, I got in trouble for turning in a worksheet with only my name and a very intricate design completely filling the margins — no answers to the questions. That’s the first pattern I remember drawing. So, this has been itching for a very long time, but it never occurred to me that I could actually do this for a living. It made sense to be a graphic artist, so I became one and have been doing that professionally for about 8 years; it wasn’t until Alluminare contacted me last winter that I realized there was an industry called “surface design”. It unleashed something and I began drawing. And drawing. And drawing. That lead me to learning about art licensing (via Tara Reed), which lead me to selling my “doodles.” It’s really a dream come true!

Where is it going? Everywhere, I hope! I have huge dreams for my work. I’m so excited to have my stuff out there right now – it’s somewhat surreal, honestly. I’d like to see it keep going. I have a couple fashion projects in the queue, some Christmas cards, and am working on getting my art on wrapping paper, plates, linens, mousepads, bags, sofas, booths… The list goes on! I’m open to putting my art on just about anything.

How do you manage your day? How much is business-ey stuff and how much is funtastic, creative design work?

Usually there are a couple things that must be done immediately, and after that, I prioritize based on mood/how much coffee I’ve had (the beauty of freelancing). I usually spend a bit of time on marketing/accounting, and the rest of the time drawing and researching. If I had an office manager, an accountant, and a full-time marketing director, I would draw from dawn to dusk.

Hey – me, too! Or least between meals.

Speaking of meals, please share your own personal recipe for PB & J.

Oroweat wheat bread, Smuckers 100% natural peanut butter (the kind you have to stir first), and sugar-free blueberry preserves. Cut diagonally. Glass of milk with a chocolate chip cookie, if possible. But I only want the cookie if my mom made it.

What makes you freak out?

SILK. I HATE SILK. The thought of it gives me chills. Someone mentioned SILK the other day and the back of my neck started itching. I’ve gotten chills in a department store, out of the blue, and looked back and realized something SILK grazed my arm. I HATE IT. I think it’s absolutely disgusting, and even writing about it, my stomach is turning. SICK.

<Sparky quickly crosses off silk scarf from his holiday gift list>

What keeps you centered?

Silk. Just kidding. Running, prayer, my family, and a husband who has my permission to mandate relaxation time — and I say mandate because sitting still does not come easy for me.

If you were stuck in the Minot, North Dakota airport for a whole day because your flight was canceled, which Muppet would you most want in the waiting area with you? Why?

Kermit. I think he’d be good for conversation, and I believe, given an entire day in an airport, we really would find the Rainbow Connection.

FYI: I still have goosebumps on my arm from the silk answer.

Visit Libby

I don’t implore much, because imploring sounds really, really important. But I implore you to look at Libby’s pattern collection. Hot. Buttered. Rum. Don’t take my word for it.

Thanks, Libby.

Let’s say you’ve been working for The Man, filling fields in a corporate database for ten years or so. In the little bubble that floats over your head all day there’s a picture of a little cupcake shop. In the window of that little cupcake shop is you, greeting your customers and making the cash register ring. Oh, look who’s in line! It’s The Man you used to work for. Ahhh, sweet success.

That’s a sa-weet little bubble you’re carrying around there. Or maybe you’ve already taken the shop out of the bubble and set it down on Earth. Awesome.

I’ll bet that in all those years of database entry and bubble-carrying, you didn’t have time to go to Graphic Design School. That’s okay. When I was carrying around my Illustration and Animation bubbles, somehow I never got around to earning my accounting degree.

So now I have a problem. I really don’t know shit about accounting. Okay, I know a little bit. I’ve read a few books and tons of articles on business taxes, P & Ls, and payroll tax regulations. So I know enough to know that I don’t really know anything.

Solution: Hire a payroll company, but know enough to know why they do stuff. Then go back to drawing ninjas and kangaroos.

I’ll bet that you are smart like that, too. Instead of creating your own logo in Photoshop CS or handing the project to your 14-year old niece, you hired a professional designer. Nicely done, you. You can go back to baking those sweet treats (that your designer will no doubt buy because she’s been staring at your cupcake photos throughout the project).

So you’re cool not knowing all the intricacies of the color wheel, balance, typesetting, and raster vs vector. Good. Stay cool.

But now you’ve got this design proof sitting in your inbox and you have no idea whether it’s awesome or crappy. Assuming you’ve done your homework and hired the best fit for your project (read about how to do that here), it’s likely not complete crap. But is it good? Is it right?

How will you know until it’s out there and your money is gone?

How to Tell if that Design You Just Bought is any Good

Do you like it?

Duh, right? Well, maybe not so duh. A lot of clients I work with don’t sit with this question long enough before they start showing it to their partner, spouse, or sister-in-law. Oh, it’s tempting to take a glance, then forward the proof e-mail to your inner circle and start collecting opinions while you figure out if you like it.

Before I tell you not to do that, let’s back up a step or three. Before you even hire someone, you should have a clear idea of what you want. If you just dump your need in a designer’s lap and say, “Create!” you’ll likely be disappointed. Before you talk to anyone about your logo, design, or animation project, you’ve got to have a very clear picture of what you want to achieve. For instance, I have this conversation all too often:

Me: So what do you want this illustration to be?

Client: Well, I’m not sure. I’m still coming up with my business/book/web site concept.

Me: Hmm. Before we go any further and you spend money on something you can’t use, you should really take some time to develop your business/book/web site.

Client: Can you just make some sketches of a few things? You can make it up if you want! Free rein! I’ll think about my thing while you work on that.

Me: No.

In my design cookbook there’s a Recipe for Disaster. Those are the main ingredients.

Back to sharing your fresh design proof. Before you listen to outside opinions, take some time with it yourself. Like a whole day, at least. Print it out and tape it to your fridge so you walk by it unexpectedly. What’s your eye drawn to? What makes you feel like oooooh awesomeness? What makes you think ummmm, not comfortable with this?

Once you’re rock solid in your own personal opinion, then get some other eyes on it. That way you’re not so easily swayed just because Uncle Frank hates purple.

If you’re thinking there’s some secret designer wisdom you’re lacking in this part of the process, don’t sweat it. Right now it’s about you liking or not liking this thing. Art is a subjective medium and even if your design hits all the important designery rules, it could still suck if you simply don’t like it.

Conversely, it could break a few dozen designery rules and you might love it.

But we’re not worried about rules right now. Do you like it?

Design Rules and Why You Should Ignore Them

“The rules are, there ain’t no rules.” – Leo, Scorpions Leader (Grease)

Rules good. Design people like rules because they make things consistent in our work and give us something to base our design decisions on. You know, like whether blue and orange compliment each other and how the human eye tracks type across a web site. So when we go to school, we learn about tons of rules that help us design things that communicate messages in consistent ways. Fantastic stuff, rules.

Then, because we’re creative designery-type people, we go looking for ways to break those rules.

Confusing, isn’t it?

Listen, don’t sweat the rules. Don’t stay up late studying Graphic Design for Dummies so you can make sure everything in your proof is on point. I guarantee you’ll find a broken rule somewhere. Then what? How far are you prepared to go in dictating design rules and researching the elements of professional design? Don’t you have cupcakes to bake for your own customers?

What’s your time worth?

But I really, really like lists of things to tell me how to know if my design is good or bad

Okay, I’ll try and humor you with a list, but there are so many variables and I’m already at 1,000 words. Here are some things to be aware of.

Space

The space in your design should simply feel comfortable. If it reminds of trying on jeans that are a size too small, there’s not enough space. If you leave the store with them, you’ll just feel bad every time you wear them. Or you won’t wear them, which is worse. Bye bye, Money.

Color

Are the colors bright and cheery, with bold reds and circus-tent greens and yellows? Awesome, unless you’re running an earth-toned web site. This is just common sense. Are the colors appropriate to your message? Is there red stuff all over your CPA firm brochure? Here’s a tip: red+financial=BAD. Green and blue good.

Font

Count up all the different fonts. Did you get past two? That could be a problem. Too many fonts confuses people, which confuses your message. If there are more than two it’s not automatically wrong, but you should at least ask why. What’s a good answer? A simple one.

Effects

Is the design dependent on tons of effects, like embossing or gradients? What if you took the design into the wonderful world of black and white – would it still come across? Effects are totally wicked, but if they don’t serve a purpose then it’s amateur hour. Somebody’s hiding behind their tools.

Is this too much to get your head around?

You know what? That’s totally okay and this is my point exactly. If you’re not in the design bidness, do yourself a favor. Hire someone who is and trust them to give you the awesomeness you need. Go bake your cupcakes or set up that payroll, because we really need more of that stuff in the world.

Hack designers we have by the truckload.

Zoinks, the cold call! Just thinking about cold calling or e-mailing makes me shiver. Not in a good way.

I’ve never found the right thing to say and I always feel creepy afterwards. So I stopped doing it.

Yep. Cold turkey on the cold calls and e-mails.

What I do now is build relationships in an organic way. Virtually all of my business comes through networking, word-of-mouth, or casual meetings.

However, if there’s a prospect I really want to work with and I don’t know them, there are a few things I do to start a relationship.

1. Check my network to see if someone I already connect with knows this prospect. Maybe I can get an introduction.
2. See if they’re on one of the social media sites I frequent. Twitter is perfect. I just start by following them. Click! Maybe I’ll send them a useful tweet or simply say hello. Yes, just hello. Not, “Hello, I’m an illustrator and I can illustrate something great for you today!” Blech. Wait. I have to go wash my hands before number three…
3. If you feel an unstoppable force pushing you to cold call or e-mail, well, okay… do it. Except, rather than shove down their throat all the wonderfulness that is you and your service (see also #2 above), simply explain what you do (briefly. Sum it up and shut up) and then ask the contact something about their company that isn’t obvious, like “I’m curious about who your ideal customers are?” or “Who designed your web site? I like the navigation.” Whatever you ask, make sure it comes from something real and true, not fake fluffy flattery or a thinly-veiled attempt at getting them to view your portfolio.

The point is, you want to start a conversation that isn’t a sales pitch. Hopefully you can build a long-term relationship that will result in business down the road. You can’t fake this. People will see through fakery and you’ll cause more harm than if you never contacted them at all.

Think about why you’re even pursuing this relationship. Is it because they’re a hugely successful person or company and you want to work with amazing people? Is it because you think you’ll make a lot of cash from them?

It’s okay to be honest and say the latter. Who doesn’t want to make a ton of cash for the thing they do? But if tons of cash is the only reason, your relationship isn’t going to last long.

It’s like marrying someone only because they’re a smokin’ hottie. In about 20 years, the smoke will clear. So there better be something deeper under the hotness.

If you marry a smokin’ hottie who also possesses depth and intelligence, then you’ll be more inclined to stay in that relationship despite economic disasters and a few botched projects.

Wait. Were we talking about people or clients? Guess what? If you can’t tell the difference, that’s a great thing. Hold onto that concept.

This relationship-building thing takes patience. Lots of patience. Like, more patience than the DMV. But it’s worth it, and it beats the hell out of cold calling any day.

As I read over the post again today (narcissist alert!), I realized that I missed an opportunity to write in more detail about what rockin’ the mobile office is really like.

The Wee Hours of the Morning

Yep. I was writing that post around 2:00 AM. Sometimes I’ll do that when I’m home if I can’t sleep, but this time it was just necessary.

It’s tempting when you’re on the road to let things slide, like posting to your blog or even reading and participating on other blogs. Frankly, it feels like work.

Sarah Bray talks a lot about sticking to a blogging schedule. She’s right. You hafta. You gotta. Unless you want to start looking like a total flake and lose people. So I did. I was exhausted. I had just finished up some client work and could have called it quits right then, but I knew that I may not have the chance today (as it turns out… here I am. Again).

I’m not saying,”Work through the pain!” like one of those Go! Go! Go! work-til-you-drop-if-you-want-to-succeed people. It’s a personal thing. I just had to do it.

Oh, the client work? Yeah.

It’s one of my favorite things about having my own business: keeping my own hours. While that means that while we’re on the road we can go to dinner with family and friends or browse comic book stores in the middle of the day, it also means the work still has to get done, which means I can’t just flop down after the fun and “think about it tomorrow.”

So I stayed up late so my client could have her design proofs this morning.

So if there’s a lesson to impart about your schedule on the road, I can sum it up in a few short words: prepare to be flexible.

The Equipment

There are some people who run out and buy CS4 as soon as it hits the market. Other people are waiting outside the Apple store to buy the new Macbook Pro as it comes off the truck.

I am not one of those people.

Mission Control for Sparky Firepants Images is the 13″ Macbook I bought in 2007.

A lot of designers and animators like to tell me that I can’t run an image business with such small equipment. Uh-huh. Right. Let’s all say it together, shall we?

It’s not the size that matters, it’s what you do with it.

Thanks, that was fun.

I spent some time last week lovingly running my hands over the new Macbook Pro at the Apple store. Mmmmmmm. Want one. I’m not stuck in some Use What You’ve Got dogma. Oh, I want an upgrade and I’ll get it very soon. However, I’m running a business and I have businessy things like budgets to work with. One of the lessons I learned late in life is that you shouldn’t just buy what you want when you see it, even if you can.

I also brought along my Bamboo tablet (not the new Touch). Apparently that’s also not big enough and doesn’t have enough function keys. Or so I read in the forums. Ahem.

Hear this: Not one of my clients gives a flying frak how many functions my tablet has, or how big my processor is. In fact, they don’t even understand or know what my process is most of the time.

If they get their thing on time and it’s awesome, nobody asks if I used CS4.

I take extra special care of my stuff. It lasts. It works. I’m free.

The Space(s)

Mostly I’m working out of the back bedroom in my in-laws house (thanks, guys! You rock). A few times I’ve had to hang at Starbucks (sue me) and I rehearsed a presentation sitting in the front seat of my car in a strip mall parking lot under a shady tree.

The kids get loud, people come over to visit, I’m meeting someone later. Prepare to be flexible. Right?

Welcome to the mobile office and getting creative.

On a trip to NYC last year, I skipped the hotel on my last night and camped out in Terminal 4 at JFK. Same Macbook, by the way.

I’m not saying these are ideal working conditions. To make the mobile thing work, you have to be a little bit of a Boy/Girl Scout. You need to have a little bit of the adventurer in you. You have to be willing to crumple up your nice Gap jacket and use it as a cushion. Sometimes you have to scout out public restrooms (hotels and department stores are always good) and patrol for the free local wi-fi.

The Communication

I have an iPhone, therefore I am.

Hey, I’m in touch. I’m available. No less than if I was at home, because my iPhone is my business line. It goes with me everywhere, so I’m already a step ahead in the mobile office game.

In my workshop last week, I talked about the importance of having a separate phone line for your business. This is one of the reasons. If you get a cheap-o Cricket phone, you can be anywhere and still keep the command center running.

I had a Tracfone for most of last year. It served the purpose (my kids use it now).

E-mail. Twitter. It’s all still in the same place it was in Oregon.

I have to admit, it’s been more difficult to stay on top of the e-communication lately. It seems to take a while to settle in and establish a schedule for handling the incoming stuff.

I think that with a little more time on the road I would develop a more solid routine than “Oh crap! My 24-hour e-mail rule is almost up.”

What I’m Saying

I’m saying that as an independent you can hit the road and keep things running. Or not. The truth is, nobody really cares if you blog or tweet or publish that e-book. Your clients care, but they’ll find somebody else if you fall off the face of the Earth.

So that’s really the biggest lesson. Keeping things running while you’re on the road is completely and totally in your hands. It’s possible, but you have to be willing to roll with the punches and be creative.

I highly recommend it, even for short jaunts. Take advantage of your indie status. Take advantage of your family. Take advantage of the thousands of coffee shops with free wi-fi around the globe.

Now get out. I mean that in the nicest way.

Well, home as in mentally home, yes. But not physically home.

In fact, leaving home for this “working vacation” may be the best thing I’ve done in a long time. Not that the grandmas didn’t pack their unmentionables kicking and screaming.

Grandma D: Well, David, I’m fairly certain a road trip is not for me. I would much rather fly.

Grandma K: It’s hot in Arizona.

Me: Yeah. Um, you know you two don’t have to go, right? You can stay here and look after Wicky.

Grandma K: What if you get scared before your workshop? You could throw up.

Me: Grandma, I have to do this. People are waiting for me. I can deal with scared, but not flaking out.

Grandma D: There had better be a place to stop along the road. I am going to pick flowers for my book.

Grandma K: It’s hot in Arizona.

Grandma D: Is that a Volvo? It looks old. Did you have the oil changed?

Me: Please get in the car. We are doing this.

We’ve been in Phoenix for two weeks now. Here’s the lowdown.

The People

Oh my god. The people. The People have been The Awesome.

Besides seeing (and staying with) family, I’ve met some great people here. The folks who attended my workshop were insightful, intelligent, and incredibly… nice. I had the privilege of sharing lunch with a few of them afterwards, where the workshop conversations continued – to my amazement. I did my best to chew with my mouth closed. They deserved at least that much.

Today I had cawfee talk with Victoria Brouhard (@victoriashmoria on Twitter). We just fell into conversation and had a great time. She’s one of the most unassuming, natural people I’ve ever met. I can see why her clients love working with her.

Last week I had breakfasty-type stuff with Brenda and Burt of Newhouse Studios. We could have talked all day and they introduced me to other cool people every 10 minutes. These people know the meaning of community. They’re awesome and I hope I get to return their hospitality someday.

Then there was Joe, Bobby, Stephanie, Lisa, Charlene, Noah… wow.

If there’s only one advantage of going mobile for a while, it’s meeting amazing new people. And the trip isn’t over yet.

The Travel

Driving from Portland to Phoenix is a long haul. Add a toddler and it’s… longer.

It’s not his fault. The little dude is made to run, jump, and play. He is not wired to sit strapped in a padded seat for 5-hour stretches. Neither am I, but I know why we’re doing this. This two-year old, he is a champ.

So we stopped more often than we planned through California. Not that I minded. California and I have been best pals since 1982. We drove by our old home and our old hangout and breathed heavy sighs. Sigh.

Why driving instead of flying?

Well, there’s that sentimental paragraph about Los Angeles that I just vomited at you. Otherwise, we’re just adventurers. Plus, as a homeschooling family, we tend to be on exploring side. Curiosity is not in short supply here.

For years, Jenni and I have been entertaining the notion of taking our lives on the road on a long term basis. Of course, we would do it in something larger than a Swedish station wagon. Ouch.

This trip puts us smack dab into the initial test phase. More on that later.

The Work

I’ve been working since I was 13 years old. I will die before I retire, which means I’ll always be doing something. Puttering and old war movies ain’t my thing.

Vacation isn’t much different. I don’t go for the lay-on-the-beach-sipping-fruity-things vacation. Oh my god, kill me now. At the very least I need to be surfing or swimming or playing volleyball, because lounging in a beach chair makes me go insane after about five minutes.

Last year we took a vacation to Mount St. Helens. We helped clear trails. Yes. We are freaks. I’m aware of this.

So I’m working. I hadn’t planned on working as much as I have, but my formula for getting new projects (whine and moan about no work) did the trick. Four hours on the road and I started getting calls. Awesome.

I’ve got my mobile office with me. In fact, Sparky Firepants Images is currently contained in a single backpack. Macbook, graphics tablet, checkbook, backup drive, cards, art supplies, and even books to give as gifts.

These days, wi-fi is almost ubiquitous. Mobile devices let us stay in contact with our families, co-workers, and clients more than ever. Like, constantly. So there’s nothing standing in the way of maintaining relationships and keeping projects humming along.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all nose to the grindstone here. We’re meeting family, exploring, having big dinners, playing. My work schedule isn’t exactly banker’s hours right now. It’s a bit of a strain sometimes (on everyone).

But looking at the bigger picture, we’re figuring out how the mobile business and life can work.

A Question

Victoria and I were talking about taking leaps today. I was wondering out loud why some people take risks (leaving a job to pursue independent work, for example) and others prefer to keep the status quo (i.e.; perceived stability).

She offered that for some people, the fear of the status quo eclipses the fear of taking a big risk.

It’s so true. I wonder if there’s a tipping point for everyone to take a leap?

On Sunday we point our wagon towards home. A few more days of mobile life and mobile work and it’s back to the home that’s firmly planted in Oregon soil. Will it be a relief? Will we miss the road? Will we start shopping for an RV? We’ll see.

“This is a message to the American people; we’re trying to bring down your costs to help more Americans afford health insurance.”  - Democratic Rep. Chris Van Hollen of Maryland

You know what bothers me most about this comment?

The proposed solution being touted is not about helping Americans afford health care anymore. It used to be about health care. The bill that passed the House and is now in the Senate doesn’t address the high cost of health care. It’s written to solve the problem of paying for health insurance.

I’ve written to one of my congressman, Earl Blumenthal (D-Oregon) several times now, expressing my concerns and offering my suggestions.

Disclaimer: this post is not about Republicans vs Democrats, or kumbaya bipartisanship. This is about solving a problem. I’ll delete comments that sling mud at either party and don’t seek to solve the issue.

You may not be surprised to hear that Earl isn’t listening. I’m not naive enough to think that my letters will have any effect on what is already a decided course of action by most of Congress, but I felt that I couldn’t really complain if I hadn’t taken that step (token though it may be). Earl can’t respond to every one of his constituents personally; that’s the numbers game and I totally get it.

However, Earl Blumenthal, like most of Congress, never really set out to solve the problem for all Americans. Rather, he set out to make himself look like a hero by creating a system for the poor.

The proposed health insurance “solution” is about Congress putting on a band-aid in front of the cameras.

If President Obama signs this bill into law (providing it passes the Senate), it will surely provide health insurance to the poor. I have no doubt about that.

Supposedly, the party line goes, the rich can already afford insurance. The middle class just wants to keep their insurance if they switch jobs, and pay a little less. The poor are uninsured because they can’t afford the high cost, which apparently is the fault of the uninsured. Presumably, we (I don’t currently carry insurance) have driven up costs because we’re not paying “our fair share.”

I apologize, America. This is my fault.

Our family is healthy. Any money spent on insurance is only a drain on our tight budget. We’re not actually using any of the benefits (which, even if we did would still still be out of pocket up to $10,000 on our last plan. $10,000 may as well be a million when you don’t have it).

So when Congress comes up with their amazing plan to help all Americans afford insurance, I’m not impressed. I don’t need insurance. I don’t want insurance.

I want to be able to afford health care. Not health insurance.

Congress seems to think they are one in the same. They aren’t.

The other problem, from what I understand, is the high cost of the uninsured not paying their medical bills. Apparently the rich are picking up the tab for that.

If that’s true, then how does this solve that problem? The rich will still be carrying the burden, because they won’t have access to the nicely-priced public option.

Shouldn’t a public option include all Americans? Otherwise it’s a welfare system, which rewards citizens for not succeeding in life. I can hear the conversations now:

Bill: Hey, I hear you got a raise, Mary. Awesome! Good on ya!

Mary: Hmm, yeah. I guess so. Except now I’m out of the public option bracket, so I have to buy insurance, which means I didn’t get a raise at all.

Bill: Oh, wow. Thank God I still make under $40,000. My wife wants to go back to work, but if she does we’ll have to do that, too. Sucks for her.

Why would any sane person want to succeed under this system? It rewards you for being poor.

Public Health Insurance also begs the question, if it’s meant to be public health care, why the insurance middleman-type thing necessary?

A straightforward public option (no middleman) makes more sense. Otherwise, you’re modeling a government system on an industry that has slowly been proven not to work (which is why people are crying out for reform in the first place).

The solution from Congress serves three classes:

• The Poor
• Insurance Companies
• Congress

I know at least part of the answer to true health care reform. Get rid of the insurance middleman.

Start with a clean slate and then we’ll have a shot at actually providing affordable health care to all Americans. And I mean all Americans.

The first time I visited Europe, I was whisked from the airport to a small gasthaus (pub) in Ramstein. My experience with beer up to that time was Arizona desert party keggers (wooooooo! paaartayyyy!) and Miller Genuine Draft at the ball game. So when these wonderful people brought me a huge golden tower of Hefeweizen at the gasthaus, I was in awe. And a little cautious – is this a joke? Then, one sip and I was done with watery cans of corn sugar forever.

So I am a beer snob and I’m not afraid to say it. I have standards that no can of light beer will ever hope to meet. I’ve even entered the world of home brewing, so my kids have to endure tours of local breweries and talk of IBUs (as homeschoolers, the added benefit is learning about chemistry and the fascinating world of enzymes).

One of my favorites is Stone Brewery in Escondido, California. Excellent beer, of course. What I really admire and wanted to share with you is their marketing.

Beer marketing?

Stone will never compete with Budweiser or Coors. That’s actually a great thing. People who order Bud Lite at the bar or the game or bring home cases of Coors will probably never pick up a bottle of Arrogant Bastard or Russian Imperial Stout. Which is fine, because the Bud Lite-drinking people don’t give a rat’s ass about craft beer. All as it should be.

So Stone’s market is not billions of people, it’s more like a few million. Easier.

And what about that Arrogant Bastard Ale? Let’s make the niche even smaller and easier to work with. Here’s a snippet of what’s on the label of Arrogant Bastard:

This is an aggressive beer. You probably won’t like it. It’s doubtful that you have the taste or sophistication to be able to appreciate an ale of this quality and depth.

Okay, so first: Arrogant Bastard, the name. You have to be a certain kind of person to appreciate that name and not turn away in disgust while you search for a pretty name like, oh I don’t know… Hamm’s. To me, the name rocks. It draws me in, because sometimes, on a deep cro-magnon level I like to feel like an arrogant bastard and I want to drink what other arrogant bastards are drinking.

There’s a snearing devil on the label. ’nuff said.

Now, we turn to that awesome description. It basically says DON’T DRINK THIS. You probably won’t like it. Isn’t that sorta counterintuitive to the whole idea of marketing your product? Don’t you want to tell people why they should like your thing instead of convincing them that they won’t?

Yet this is exactly the thing that will make certain people snag it off the shelf before they finish reading the rest of the label.

Certain people. Not Bud Lite People. See, Bud Lite has to tell people that they will like their beer. If anyone suggested to a Budweiser executive that they should tell people who like really great beer to stay away, they’d probably get tossed into the mash.

Except that it would be an excellent marketing strategy. “Beer snobs, stay away. This is for real men who drink real beer.”

Can’t you just see the right dudes get all fired up about that? Boo-ya. They would probably sell beer to guys who didn’t drink a lot of beer but really enjoy feeling like they’ve one-upped the snobs and the yuppie crowd.

But Budweiser is trying to sell beer to a humongous market, so they won’t do that. They have to be careful.

Be an Arrogant Bastard

A lot of us know about finding our niche. Some of us are still working on it (okay, I am) and it takes time. But I was just thinking that I’ve still been too careful about turning off people who might not get me. That’s a hard truth, but there it is.

I have to work on that.

So what about you? Can you challenge yourself to actually try and turn away people who don’t get what you do or how you do it?

If you’re kind of like an Arrogant Bastard Ale person, you’ll friggin’ love this.

Driving from Portland to Phoenix was ambitious, we knew. Flying would have been quick and fairly painless.

But we are a little bit crazy. Yes, sir. One large Volvo wagon packed with crazy, please. To go.

This is how we roll. No chiseled-in-stone itinerary, just a broad, sweeping notion that we’d like to see a new city. So we skip the tourist guides, eschew the Zagat’s, poo-poo the parenting mags for the “Best Spots to Take Toddlers and Teens,” and shoot from the hip. Jenni and I have been doing this since we lived in Germany. So now we have our very own Heidelberg, our private Paris, our very personal Santa Ynez Valley. Out-of-the-way places that aren’t in the guidebooks are the places you will find us. We explore.

Sometimes that means we wind up in some pretty sketchy areas, nervously ordering pizza with one eye on the door. Sometimes that means we find paradise in a place where other tourists hurry past on their way to the Big Thing. Both mean that we get to talk about it for years afterward.

Is it any coincidence that I run my business this way?

It sounds like a recipe for disaster, right? Sensible, solid business folk have sensible, solid business plans, right? Well, sure I have a plan. I don’t just wing it from day to day. There has to be a strategy in place, with goals to reach for. I need to know if I’m getting off track and not effectively helping anyone.

It’s a little loose, but it’s not a stumbling drunk.

It’s like taking a long car trip. We know we need to be in Phoenix before November 5th, because there are a bunch of people showing up to an event that I’m supposed to be leading. There are a few nieces and nephews we’ve never met who need to plan around our arrival. We also know the general route we need to take, South through California (veering East into Nevada, while interesting, would be counterproductive to our goal).

That said, we’ve stopped a few times more than we planned. See, we used to live in Los Angeles and as a family we have strong memories of certain areas. For example, we decided to take our 2-year old to our old private Malibu beach haunt. Now we’re stopping in San Bernardino, because taking a rest for the night is necessary for the sanity of all.

We’ll get to Phoenix tomorrow. We’re cool. We’re “on target” as they say in Big People World.

Running a business is like that. You know where you’re supposed to be and you plan on a time to arrive, but you allow for stuff to happen along the way. You explore. You invent. You take a detour because it stirs something in your soul. That keeps your business alive and flowing, so it doesn’t get stale.

That’s not to say I wouldn’t peruse an article or a guidebook to see if there’s something awesome that a fellow traveler thought was worthy of pointing out.

That’s where reading blogs, talking to coaches, and learning about business and marketing have their value. It’s not about shoving you on a tour bus and telling you exactly what you should find interesting. It’s about jotting down that hill where you can see the same view of the Rhine River that Samuel Clemens was inspired by. If that interests you, great. If not, move along. There’s more to see.

Speaking of coaches and learning new stuff, I just read this post by Charlie Gilkey, “Today is Two Weeks From Two Weeks Ago.” Charlie reminded me that sometimes I can say “no” to the glorious new opportunity and still be okay.

Sometimes it’s cool to explore new territory and sometimes you need to drive on past, rest where you planned, and keep your sanity. If you’re already open to finding new awesome places, you’ll always find more.

It’s almost a cliche that business owners say they never really take a vacation. It’s sort of true. I mean, you might transport your body to some location that’s not your office, but your mind and heart are still in your business.

Naomi of IttyBiz wrote something the other day about the idea that separating your business and your “life” is kind of bogus. I wish I could remember where she wrote it, but my laptop battery is dying and I’m madly trying to get these thoughts down. Ask her. I agreed, I remember that much.

Update: I admit to lameness right now. I just spent most of yesterday trying to find the place where I read Naomi’s one sentence that was so important that I referred to it in this post. Searched e-mail, Twitter, her blog. No dice. But it was really good.

So on Wednesday (mechanic willing) the whole family is piling in our 1986 Volvo wagon (speaking of cliches) and heading down I-5 towards Phoenix. For the kids, it’s a vacation. For me and Jenni, it’s working away from home.

• There’s this workshop I’m leading on November 5th.
• There are those clients who can’t afford to put their lives and businesses on hold so I can see the Presidio.
• There are the meetups in San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, and Phoenix.

The funny thing is, this doesn’t feel like “work” work. It feels like fun. I like being in touch with my clients. I like meeting people I’ve connected with on the internet. I like giving workshops.

So my vacation isn’t in the form of decompression with a fruity drink by a breezy Miami pool.

There may be breezes. There may be fruity drinks beer. There may even be a pool.

But I’ll be working with my client people. And I’ll still get to hang with my family people, which is the best part about running my own business.

Everybody in the car!