Sunday, October 5, 2008

The Camera Doesn't Lie

As the world changes, we need to keep up. We also need to pay attention to the little things that remind us the world hasn't changed that much. People still take time for granted. Laughing is better than crying––unless you're crying laughing, which Richard Pryor used to make me do. Sundays are much better during football season. And the camera doesn't lie.

I'm working on trying some new things at work––changes to stay competitive––that will surely be met with resistance. But if we don't progress, we digress. (Which I'm doing now and do very well, I might add. There I go again.) So I had the idea of presenting our ideas in video or images. Drop the keypad, put the Crackberry away and get thinking in pictures. We are SO much the visual society that we should have done this waaay back.

The idea is ironically being used for the first time on a communications effort about cancer. Yeah, ain't that a kick in the nuts. So what the hell, let's do a "documonial"––that's someone telling their story on camera because their stories are real and compelling but need to be told in a way that is NOT a testimonial. But using part of the "T" word helps sell the idea. Ya still with me?

So Aimee gets the flip-cam and we're going to see if I can tell my story of beating cancer twice in the last year in a way that will convince clients this is the way to go. We'll put it on air, online, on your desktop and on your mobile. (Soon, we'll be doing this every week and we'll wonder why it took so long.) But first we have to put it on camera and see how it flies.

It has been awhile since I've seen myself on camera or video. It's been a rough 14 months since I found out I had cancer. And I turned 50––kind of sounds like "I turned into a vampire", doesn't it––and the gall bladder being yanked out of my body hasn't helped either. I've lost at least 40 pounds and that kind of weight loss has changed the way I look.

I didn't look like myself when I saw the footage. Even though I look in the mirror every day to see if I shaved my face right and comb my hair, I didn't get the full picture until I saw the video that we needed to cut for our idea. Who is that guy on the screen? That dude isn't me. I'm the healthy looking one, the one who has always looked young for his age––I could buy a kids General Admission ticket at the Dodger Stadium until I was 15––this is my Dad. I was trying to figure out what we could do with the video to bring it to life and share as a concept. But I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the fact that THIS is how I look to my family, my friends and my work family. And then it hit me like a 15-pound bass upside the head.

The camera doesn't lie.