Otto the Ogre | A Marketing Strategist

This is Otto the Ogre—and he’s the reason this article isn’t about technology or crypto. It’s probably not your usual read, especially with all the daily AI updates in our newsfeeds. This is about learning and growing from 'offline' experiences. Let me tell you his story.

We often take the time with our family for granted, thinking our main role is to keep life stable and moving forward.

It’s a social habit—generational, almost—that we hide our worries behind smiles while working hard to build opportunities for them. But some chances are quieter, slipping by in the rush before we even realize they’re there.

A while back…

I found myself facing some inner struggles after a shocking layoff from work. That’s a story for another day, but this one is about family and how a simple request from my five-year-old daughter brought me back to a part of myself I hadn’t tapped into in years. She’s incredibly creative, at that magical age where she shifts seamlessly from Disney princesses to Super Saiyan battles, from coloring books to intricate Lego creations. One moment, she’s baking with Mom; the next, she’s a mechanic with Dad. You get the picture.

A few weeks ago…

A few weeks ago, she asked if I could put on a puppet show for her birthday. At the time, I was freelancing without a steady job, so I could make time for it.

Though I hadn’t practiced industrial design professionally in over 20 years, I just said yes!

But a puppet show? That was entirely new territory.

Three big questions hit me at once:

• First, how would I create something to make kids laugh and engage with me?
• Second, I didn’t want to spend a lot on materials.
• Third, I had only four weeks.

After watching some kids' shows with my daughter, I thought, “What if I just used cardboard boxes?” I scavenged every box I could find—some from home, others from neighbors—and got to work.

The Wolf Puppet.

The first thing I tried was a wolf’s head. No sketches, no YouTube tutorials, just me, a box cutter, hot glue, and a memory of how mechanisms work. Six hours later, I’d created something with a moving jaw like a mechanical wolf. My daughter’s face lit up, and my wife said it looked amazing.

“Is this the puppet?” my daughter asked.

“No, honey. This is us planning and seeing what’s possible,” I told her.

She thought for a second, then asked, “Since we have a wolf, can we make a Dracula?”

The Dracula Puppet.

“Of course!” I replied. We set off to create a mini-Dracula, using only our imagination and spare materials. It turned out funny and charming.

With three weeks left, I decided to step things up. “What if I make a giant Halloween puppet?” I wanted this one to come alive with moving eyes, a big mouth, eyebrows, and a personality of its own. We decided on a Yeti-Ogre mix, so I could keep the head square and the mouth large. Again, no sketches, no Google searches—let’s just be creative.

The Next Few Weeks.

Over the next few weeks, I salvaged and recycled every scrap I could find. I used an old black and orange T-shirt, some green fabric from JOANN Stores , and a fishing string for the mechanics.

In total, I spent less than $50. By the end, there it was: a towering, monstrous puppet.

But three days before the show, I realized I had no script.

The Search for Engagement.

Every night, I lay in bed, turning over the same question: How do I captivate pre-K, kindergarten, and first graders at once? I wanted them to laugh, move, ask questions, and help solve a mystery:

Why was the ogre an ogre?

I knew those first ten seconds were everything. It’s the same principle I bring to website design, email marketing, and ads—hook them, and make it count, or the experience falls flat. So, I focused on making that immediate connection.

Hours before the show, the solution finally hit me.

Kids are kind, period.

Kids watch with kindness, then imitate with kindness, then join in with kindness, especially if they’re part of something fun.

I imagined the puppet, hidden at first, whispering nervously, “Who’s out there? Can I come out? I’m a little scared.”

The Show

When I tried it, the kids instantly jumped in, comforting the hidden “ogre” and inviting him to show himself.

At that moment, they were ready to follow him on whatever adventure came next. Pure magic.

My plan was simple: let them drive the show while I guided it through a few key moments:

• Introduce himself – Make friends and share his name.
• Learn to dance – The ogre “forgot” how, so I asked five kids to show him their best moves.
• Return the candy – The ogre had eaten all the party candy from the basement, and as he “puked” it out like a pi?ata, the kids went wild.

The kids buzzed with excitement, shouting answers, laughing, raising their hands to share dance moves, and screaming in joy as the candy burst from the puppet’s mouth.

Why?

I’ve spent years creating experiences for global brands, refining products, and crafting strategies to connect with people online and offline.

Yet, this little puppet show, created for a handful of kids, has found a place closest to my heart. It’s the joy of blending my work with my life, each one enriching the other.

Designing for all ages—whether through a puppet or a complex post-purchase CRM program—is about making people feel cared for and understood.

In marketing and tech, we often hear about “work-life balance.” But I believe it’s more about consciously leaning toward either life or work at different times, and that’s okay. This balance shifts as we grow through good, bad, and even ugly experiences—a rite of passage, really.

To be fair, true balance is highly subjective (unless it's based on numbers) - Therefore, it isn’t a perfect 50/50, especially when our hearts are so full of creativity, joy, and kindness.

Where will we find fulfillment—work or family?

For me, after seeing the joy on those kids’ faces, the excitement of their parents, and the pride in my wife’s and daughter’s eyes, I feel family should (at a minimum) take at least 51% of our time. Just a single percent past 50/50, but enough to center us in what matters—to keep from taking our time for granted while still holding steady as we move forward with purpose.

I love what I do professionally, and I love what I do with my family...

But - work will never end - it is we who will end.

But - my family is not laying me off for NDA reasons.

But - I don't want to be absent because I'm launching a new "product".

Again, I love what I do professionally (at least) 49% of the time.

But that puppet show showed me the power of putting people first, blending heart and science. It illustrated how much richer life becomes when we cross-pollinate creativity with genuine human connection.

*Why was the ogre an ogre??

Perhaps he was too shy to come out and enjoy himself with those willing to care for him.

If that’s the answer, then it’s the story of my life. Or maybe we’re all still kids in need of each other’s kindness.

Let’s connect.