2 reasons why the Panera Cares Cafes is great for our community and 1 reason why it’s transcendent

When I first wrote about the Panera Care's Cafe, it was a surprising new venture.  

Now it's getting less surprising and more the norm.  Which is a wonderful development.

The best thing about Panera opening Illinois’ first Panera Cares Café (and the fourth nationwide) in our community isn’t that many down-on-their-luck people in Chicago will be able to eat a good solid meal every day, and possibly have just a bit more energy or inspiration to make one more phone call and get that interview that could lead to something good.

That’s pretty great, but it’s not the best thing,

It’s not the wonderful and amazing fact that Panera is leaning on the community to do what it’s successfully done in Clayton MO, Portland OR, and Dearborn, MI:  strike a balance of providers and acceptors in shared responsibility that Panera founder Ron Shaich calls “not a hand out, but a hand up.” 

But that’s not the best thing either.

The best thing about the Panera Cares cafes is that they’re turning a profit. 

Which means that other QSR’s might look at them and say, “Hmmm.  Maybe we should be doing that too.”

Now that would be the best thing that could come out of the success of the Panera Cares Cafes.  Stop by the new one at 616 W. Diversey, come join this important community, and see if you can personally help them strike the right balance.

How a community can make you smile broadly, get tingly, maybe even shed a tear

I moderated a panel at techweek on Friday.  We had some great insights from our panelists and terrific audience Q&A.   Some great stories about the power of people to connect with each other and become massive and powerful forces for good and commerce. 

Then I heard something on the radio yesterday morning that put a massive exclamation point on it.

Bob Edwards interviewed Eric Whitacre, a musician, composer and conducter, who has written music for, and virtually led—that is, online—a choir of over 2000 people.

If you love music, watch and listen.  It’s one of those tears-of-happiness things.

The story of how the virtual choir gained momentum is wonderful inspiration for anyone with an idea waiting to explode.  The endeavor is impressive and the music is beautiful. 

But what’s most impactful is hearing how the community that formed itself through Mr. Whitacre’s virtual choir has come together.  Not just to sing together, but to support each other.  They’ve formed a community that communicates virtually; they even experienced the first death last year of one of the community members.

In Whitacre’s words, it’s their shared intent that ties them together and “takes them to a transcendent place.  It’s not just a virtual choir anymore, it’s a virtual choir army.”

It proves the simple  and lovely fact that humans will go to any lengths necessary to connect and communicate with each other and once they do, the communities they form are incredibly powerful. 

How they form isn’t hugely different from how great ideas often come to life:  a combination of pluck, luck, skill, and timing.  And shared intent.

The guiding force of a strong community is a common passion, and humans with a strong shared intent can’t be held back. 

What Ronnie woo-woo can teach us about branding

At the Cubs game the other night, there was a  vendor who used mystical powers to get people to pay five bucks for a bag of peanuts. 

I know this because in a sea of “Beer Here!” and “Hot Dogs!” cutting through the calm night’s air, this vendor barely said a word.  When she did, you could see her lips form the words “peanuts,” but almost no sound came out.

She was no younger than 70 and no taller than five feet; her ID tag read “Ho Pun.”  Her face was weathered as if she’d spent 50 summers at Wrigley Field but I’d never seen her before.

She would walk halfway down the aisle and hold up a bag of peanuts and stare at someone until the person bought a bag of peanuts in hopes of basking in her otherworldly glow, or looked away in fear of being given an underworldly curse.

I don’t think she sold a ton of peanuts, but there was a weird aura about her that made me think that she cared less about her final tally and more about her purpose.

Speaking of which, Ronnie Woo-woo was also there, walking the aisles, dancing, smiling, taking pictures.  But not woo-wooing.  Not a sound came from his mouth.

Has he woo-woo'ed so much that he's damaged his vocal chords?  Is he out of woo’s? 

Or did he find some meditative place that told him not to speak, only to radiate.  Send out positive vibes and assume they’ll return.  It certainly didn’t affect the number of people who wanted to hug and dance and take pictures with him.

There are a couple of lessons in Ho Pun and Ronnie Woo-woo’s approaches.  One,  there are many different ways to differentiate your brand, and being loud doesn’t always have to be one of them. 

And two, sometimes worrying about the end result gets in the way more than you might think.  Think about what you’re doing and how you do it, not where it’s going to end up.   And somewhere in there, smile or dance.  Or look someone in the eye with the most direct intention you can muster.  You never know what they’ll give you.

Why college is worth all the money

Surreal /səˈrēəl/ 

Adjective:  having the disorienting, hallucinatory quality of a dream

Taking your daughter to college orientation is bittersweet.

Taking her to orientation at the same college you attended is surreal.

Walking the grounds of my alma mater over thirty years later, everything is similar but nothing is the same.  I know I’ve walked every inch of every path but I can’t remember what it felt like back then. 

Things change.  Yesterday’s piercings are today’s tattoos, and the quaint soda shop is now a Bruegger’s Bagels.  If things didn’t change, it would be wonderfully satisfying for the alums and terribly sad for the students.

What hasn’t changed:  A community of professionals who dedicate themselves to making sure young people transition from childhood to adulthood in a way that makes them better and smarter, more interesting, more interested, and more well-rounded individuals.

College is the single best cranial training ground in the world and the world would be a better and more productive place if every one of us could go back every decade or so. 

It would be like renewing your vows as an enlightened human.

One of my favorite orientation speakers laid out the skills that the college student of 2012 will come away with:

Problem solving

Decision making

Critical thinking

Not to mention, becoming an informed citizen and lifelong learner, gaining breadth and depth of knowledge, and forming invaluable connections.

Is it any different than 10, 50, 90 years ago?

Conceptually, no.

Financially?   Yes.  Ridiculously so.  

But as insane as the costs are, I believe it’s worth it. 

Now that’s surreal.

Resoled shoes, spotless grills, and the benefits of seeing results

The best things in life to spend money on are the things that look different before and after they’re done.

How unsatisfying does it feel to spend $6000 on a new roof, and when you look at it from the ground,  it looks the same?

What’s your reaction when you spend a couple grand on brake shoes and pads and rotors, and no matter how hard you stare at your car, it doesn’t look even remotely different?

But how great does it feel when you pay a guy $80 to clean your grill, and an hour later, your 15 year old Weber looks like it just came off the floor at Abt?

And when you spend $20 on getting your shoes resoled and have them look like the Italian jobs that just came out of the box? Ecstacy.

Granted, roofs and brakes are good things to have if you don’t want to get crushed by a collapsed ceiling or drive off a bridge.  That small detail aside, there’s a point to be made here:

Seeing results from one’s hard work makes the work feel that much worth it and proves the value of paying for the work.

Market research supporters, you can take that and run with it. My gift to you.

For those those of you who don’t see the need for market research and would prefer to put their work out there untested, firm in their belief that it’s best in it’s purest, untouched state, regardless of what their target audience may think:

Nice haircut.

And by the way, why do brakes need shoes?

Building a community one traveler at a time

Our last post talked about Oliver Samwer and his marauding band of idea stealers.   One of those ideas is airbnb.

Crashing in someone’s pad used to mean you had no dough.   Now it means you’re on the fun, progressive, pennywise edge of travel.

If you think Airbnb (and all of it’s countless imitators) is successful because people can comfortably stay in big cities across the world for far less than big city hotel prices, you’d be right.

If you said it’s also successful because visitors get to see interesting unexpected neighborhoods and enjoy the quirky comforts of artsy (and sometimes downright crazy) apartments, you’d also be right.

But the key insight you may be missing is a craving for community in a digitally fractured world.

So much of what we do happens in the ether between faceless people with handles instead of names.  Any chance we can have to connect face to face with a stranger who becomes a real-world friend is invaluable.  That’s why staying in youth hostels made European travel that much more special.

Airbnb brings this benefit to life.  It enables two people to sit over coffee and talk. Make a connection.  Start to buold community.

Ironically enough, it’s all due to technology, beginning with a simple, brilliant idea, brought to life as only the internet could, sparked by one of the greatest of all travel-related questions:

Can I crash in your pad?