My office, in this post 9/11 world, is rather particular about security. You see, we have in our hot little hands and files some critical design information about the nation's water and wastewater facilities. Because of this, we take securing that info, and of course our people, pretty seriously.
Main doors are open for entry only during fixed work hours. Beyond those hours, you can use a swipe card to gain entry. On 4 floors, entry to stairwells and/or any staff area from the hallway requires a swipe card 24 hours of the day. Needless to say, we keep our swipe cards on our person at all times.
This weekend, I stopped into the office after my full day of school. I plugged in my computer, called Hubby with a location/status update, and determined while the computer was logging in to take a bathroom break and get a soda. As I exited my department into the hall, the door swung shut right behind me and BAM! I realized my swipe card was sitting on my desk.
On any regular workday, no sweat, you borrow a visitor pass from reception and get back in. On a Saturday after 5pm, the place was pretty much a ghost town. After rambling around the square hallway passages for a few moments trying every door in vain and looking for signs of other weekend workers...I sat down in reception to think. I wasn't panicked, but I was certainly and frustratingly puzzled as to how to solve this problem short of calling 911.
I tried the extensions for the IT helpdesk (supposed to be manned 24x7) and the general counsel's office (he is a maniac worker here about 24x7) but no answer. I then determined to call my Hubby....but I forgot the lobby phones are not enabled for external calls. Finally, I decided to try calling the external operator - and after an annoying long pause, it finally clicked through. I made a collect call (what a blast from the past...don't think I've done that since my poverty-stricken college days) home.
For once, my forgetfulness was helpful as I had left my blackberry at home and Hubby was able to mine it for some of my colleague's home numbers. Before any of them could save me however, I heard the telltale swish and clang of the elevator in motion. I jumped to the wall and hit every button there was and started calling, "Helloooooo....Helloooooooo" into the crack in the door. With my lips nearly attached to the elevator doors, they slid open, and there were some rather shifty looking characters as surprised to see me as I was to see them. They were in the building doing some necessary electrical repairs. Their passes allowed me access and soon I was back at my desk.
Today, I considered sending a note to our building manager for a consideration of punch key pads to alleviate this situation, but I was afraid his response would be, "Since I've only heard of this happening once in 30 years here and it was you, perhaps I would suggest that you not let the door hit you in the ass on the way out...at least not without your swipe card in hand."
Monday, November 16, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Is that the Death Rattle I hear?
She was a young single girl living in San Francisco. Her first apartment was found over a restaurant downtown. The previous tenants warned her of the disadvantages of restaurant proximity...namely, mice! Thinking ahead, she ensured the landlord would allow for a cat in the lease agreement.
Never having owned a cat, she was pleased when a friend told her she had found a young stray. "Sounds good," she matter-of-factly responded. She refused to be sentimental about the selection of this pet - this animal was to be used as a tool. This animal was to be her mouser. This animal was a co-habitating partner not a family member.
The cat, recognizing a non-cat person, realized that the idea of a handy litter box might not be something her new "owner" would possess. No matter, thought the feline, this potted palm is perfectly acceptable for my needs.
"How neat!" exclaimed the girl, "the cat finds her own patch of dirt, no need for late night walkies!"
That night, the cat determined, regardless of the girl's lack of understanding of the needs of the great feline race, she would cozy up and grab what warmth she could in the night. She curled up around the neck of the young girl and went to sleep.
The next day, the girl determined that a trip to the vet was a necessity and bundled up the cat for a visit. When the vet entered the room, the girl looked at him sadly and said, "I'm sorry to say, I think this cat is doomed....in fact I think her death is imminent."
Surprised, as the cat appeared to be quite active and healthy, the vet questioned the girl as to her evidence of illness.
"Well," she said, "she has a bad breathing problem...and I'm sure it's only a matter of time."
The vet examined the cat thoroughly, listening hard to lungs and heart to see if he could determine the problem. After he completed his exam, he stroked the cat as he spoke to the young girl some more.
Suddenly the girl said, "There! That sound! That's it."
The vet looked at her with pity. "Ah yes....that sound. Well, that is a sound I know only too well. Tell me young lady, you've never had a cat before have you?"
"No...no...this is my first time." said the young girl sadly, "Is it very bad?"
"Oh no," said the vet solemnly, "That my dear, is what we in the industry call...a purr."
----
Told in all honesty to Wenderina by Boss Lady...a most savvy and with-it chick who has obviously learned a few tricks in the past 30 years.
Never having owned a cat, she was pleased when a friend told her she had found a young stray. "Sounds good," she matter-of-factly responded. She refused to be sentimental about the selection of this pet - this animal was to be used as a tool. This animal was to be her mouser. This animal was a co-habitating partner not a family member.
The cat, recognizing a non-cat person, realized that the idea of a handy litter box might not be something her new "owner" would possess. No matter, thought the feline, this potted palm is perfectly acceptable for my needs.
"How neat!" exclaimed the girl, "the cat finds her own patch of dirt, no need for late night walkies!"
That night, the cat determined, regardless of the girl's lack of understanding of the needs of the great feline race, she would cozy up and grab what warmth she could in the night. She curled up around the neck of the young girl and went to sleep.
The next day, the girl determined that a trip to the vet was a necessity and bundled up the cat for a visit. When the vet entered the room, the girl looked at him sadly and said, "I'm sorry to say, I think this cat is doomed....in fact I think her death is imminent."
Surprised, as the cat appeared to be quite active and healthy, the vet questioned the girl as to her evidence of illness.
"Well," she said, "she has a bad breathing problem...and I'm sure it's only a matter of time."
The vet examined the cat thoroughly, listening hard to lungs and heart to see if he could determine the problem. After he completed his exam, he stroked the cat as he spoke to the young girl some more.
Suddenly the girl said, "There! That sound! That's it."
The vet looked at her with pity. "Ah yes....that sound. Well, that is a sound I know only too well. Tell me young lady, you've never had a cat before have you?"
"No...no...this is my first time." said the young girl sadly, "Is it very bad?"
"Oh no," said the vet solemnly, "That my dear, is what we in the industry call...a purr."
----
Told in all honesty to Wenderina by Boss Lady...a most savvy and with-it chick who has obviously learned a few tricks in the past 30 years.
Friday, November 13, 2009
The Things You Learn...
Last night I went out with some colleagues. Since the MERGER we're making a concerted effort to get out, have a drink (the club is actually called Just One) and do a little bonding, venting, laughing, complaining, or whatever is required on any given date. This was only the second club meeting - the first was ok, but a little depressing. Everyone was very stressed about the MERGER and we were in the middle of our first budgeting cycle with the new parent company which caused some...well...angst? But last night, we were a little more light-hearted and oh the things I learned.
Story #1: Closing Out Bad Health
The only gent in our group last night - DLR - proceeded to tell us a story of a health scare he had several years ago...in a very humorous way. It manifested in waking each morning with a great feeling of heaviness and constriction of his chest and after a couple of weeks, he really feared for a serious condition. He went to the Dr. and was run through an extensive cadre of tests....all coming back clean.
Suddenly, his Dr. asked - do you have pets???
Why yes, answered DLR.
Are they large or small?
Well, I have a cat and a dog and the dog is mid-sized, the cat is large and fat - about 25 pounds.
Do they sleep in the bed with you?
Well, yes they do.
Ok, here is what I want you to do - I want you to set a low volume alarm for about 2:30AM.
Why?
Just do it.
Result: DLR sets alarm and at the quiet beep, beep, beep he awakes and finds his cat - all 25 pounds of her - curled up on his chest.
Doctor, Doctor - I woke up and this is what I found...
Aha - that is what I suspected - having 25 pounds on your chest for several hours a night can cause some serious pain and discomfort when you awake.
But what should I do, Dr. to stop her from doing this - I'm asleep - how do I keep her from climbing on my chest??
And then the Doctor - with great patience and solemnity - told my very smart friend:
{can you guess the answer? scroll down to see.}
When you go to bed? Close the damn door.
Story #1: Closing Out Bad Health
The only gent in our group last night - DLR - proceeded to tell us a story of a health scare he had several years ago...in a very humorous way. It manifested in waking each morning with a great feeling of heaviness and constriction of his chest and after a couple of weeks, he really feared for a serious condition. He went to the Dr. and was run through an extensive cadre of tests....all coming back clean.
Suddenly, his Dr. asked - do you have pets???
Why yes, answered DLR.
Are they large or small?
Well, I have a cat and a dog and the dog is mid-sized, the cat is large and fat - about 25 pounds.
Do they sleep in the bed with you?
Well, yes they do.
Ok, here is what I want you to do - I want you to set a low volume alarm for about 2:30AM.
Why?
Just do it.
Result: DLR sets alarm and at the quiet beep, beep, beep he awakes and finds his cat - all 25 pounds of her - curled up on his chest.
Doctor, Doctor - I woke up and this is what I found...
Aha - that is what I suspected - having 25 pounds on your chest for several hours a night can cause some serious pain and discomfort when you awake.
But what should I do, Dr. to stop her from doing this - I'm asleep - how do I keep her from climbing on my chest??
And then the Doctor - with great patience and solemnity - told my very smart friend:
{can you guess the answer? scroll down to see.}
When you go to bed? Close the damn door.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Humble Thanks
HLM (Dad) 1926-2003 Today is one of the few days designated to remember the fallen and to thank those men and women who stand on a wall and take our national interests to heart and to arms.
Today is one of the many days that I reflect on how lucky I am to live in a country where my right to protest war is as protected by a person in uniform as is my neighbors right to support it.
Today is the day, with no sense of hypocrisy at all, I wore my peace symbol t-shirt while donating to the U.S. Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society in memory of my father and uncle, and in honor of their youngest brother - all veterans who served their country with a sense of duty and honor.
How did you thank a veteran today?
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
It's because of my typos, isn't it?
Typos have cursed me most of my life. About 20 years ago, when I was searching desperately for work, I had 4 interviews in one day. My current Company (shall remain nameless here), Reader's Digest (dream job), Pepsi Co headquarters (free DP for life!), and a financial firm ($$$$). My Company was at the bottom of my list.
Because I was going for an entry level job - every company gave me a typing test with my interview...every company except MY Company, that is. You guessed it, one offer on the table when it was over and it was the job without the typing test.
I can't regret it as the journey at this company has taken me from entry-level administrative assistant to a manager of a national team with plenty of interesting side-trips and challenges along the way.
Today, I listened to NPR and the BBC's coverage of the mother of a slain soldier in Britain lambasting the Prime Minister for, among many other things, 25 typos in the letter of condolence he sent to her family. Her real complaint was the lack of helicopters to save her son from bleeding to death, but the typos hurt enough for her to count and present to the Prime Minister as an insult that she took great umbrage with.
Every year, when I do that holiday letter thing (which has shrunk to a holiday post card in recent years) I have a "friend" who delights in receiving it and immediately calling me to point out my typos - which range from the traditional typo to the misuse of a word, or a comma, or other grammatical error. I claim to be a writer. I did graduate with a 4-year degree in English. But hell, sometimes my mind and my fingers are not in sync. And sometimes, I don't care enough to spend the extra time to proof read. So sue me.
In the hop-skip-jump way my thoughts work, I was admiring the new layout and content at the Women's Colony today and recalled Mrs. G contacting me this summer to write an article from the working woman perspective. I took my sweet time getting back to her (a month) with my article, and then suggested perhaps the WC could use a working woman room (a Den?) that I'd love to contribute to on a regular basis.
I haven't heard back.
It's been more than two months.
And I wonder if it's because of my typos.
Because I was going for an entry level job - every company gave me a typing test with my interview...every company except MY Company, that is. You guessed it, one offer on the table when it was over and it was the job without the typing test.
I can't regret it as the journey at this company has taken me from entry-level administrative assistant to a manager of a national team with plenty of interesting side-trips and challenges along the way.
Today, I listened to NPR and the BBC's coverage of the mother of a slain soldier in Britain lambasting the Prime Minister for, among many other things, 25 typos in the letter of condolence he sent to her family. Her real complaint was the lack of helicopters to save her son from bleeding to death, but the typos hurt enough for her to count and present to the Prime Minister as an insult that she took great umbrage with.
Every year, when I do that holiday letter thing (which has shrunk to a holiday post card in recent years) I have a "friend" who delights in receiving it and immediately calling me to point out my typos - which range from the traditional typo to the misuse of a word, or a comma, or other grammatical error. I claim to be a writer. I did graduate with a 4-year degree in English. But hell, sometimes my mind and my fingers are not in sync. And sometimes, I don't care enough to spend the extra time to proof read. So sue me.
In the hop-skip-jump way my thoughts work, I was admiring the new layout and content at the Women's Colony today and recalled Mrs. G contacting me this summer to write an article from the working woman perspective. I took my sweet time getting back to her (a month) with my article, and then suggested perhaps the WC could use a working woman room (a Den?) that I'd love to contribute to on a regular basis.
I haven't heard back.
It's been more than two months.
And I wonder if it's because of my typos.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Despite my masterful procastination....
I entered the weekend convinced I would get everything done that needed to happen. The biggest priority - my term paper for Leading Change class due next weekend. And as my master plan unfolded (or disintegrated)....this is how my weekend went.
- Plan to stay late at office on Friday when all is quiet and do some further outlining of paper and annotate articles.
What happened? Well....a good friend came by my desk to do some bragging on her kids and then we talked for about 2 hours and then I answered some emails and then...I played with some stuff on my desk...and then....well...it was time to go home. - Plan to get to bed early, then get up Saturday AM and head to the gym. Also hit friend's new store opening in Valley Cottage and maybe Annie Sez for the great sale going on. Then come home, hit the books, while laundry runs and get that paper done.
What happened? I fell asleep on the couch after hubby went to bed (around 1AM) and woke up at 5AM all befuddled. I crawled upstairs and washed the grime and smeared makeup from my face and climbed under the covers. Next eye opener - 11AM. Given my inability to enact my plan as envisioned, I froze and stayed in bed watching movies until 4PM when I had to get up to have dinner with my in-laws. - Plan to come home from dinner and relax, then get an early start Sunday, go to gym (missed on Saturday) and go to friend's new store (missed on Saturday), and forego the Annie Sez sale in order to get home and do laundry (missed on Saturday) and finish paper (now a must do!)
What happened? I fell asleep when we got home from dinner (8:30PM!) but at least this time I was in bed - woke up at 3AM dying for water and then found myself awake until about 6AM. Finally fell back to sleep until more acceptable hour of 9AM....but couldn't motivate my ass out of bed. I mean after all - what was waiting for me but a workout, homework, and laundry - yuck. - All Plans abandoned or blown, I finally hit the computer at 12 noon, with a yogurt in my tummy, but no ab crunches completed, at which time I spent about 2 hours surfing and goofing around on blogs, making popcorn and eventually starting the laundry, playing with cats, reading 2 chapters from a novel, checking out HGTV site for bedroom designs, and Bed Bath & Beyond for duvet covers. Finally, as hubby got home from his lodge duties at about 4:30PM I'm settling into the paper...working at a record pace I slam through the materials and write write write write for 3 straight hours and I'm done. 10 page paper complete and proofread, printed and ready to go. Oh - and 5th/last load of laundry in dryer!
I love it when a plan comes together, don't you?
Friday, November 6, 2009
Two-Way Communication
I'm thinking I need to change the name of my blog. I've been focusing so much on communication lately - because it is my work, and my school focus...and well communication is everywhere right? Anyway...that's just a sideline to today's topic: Two-Way Communication.
---
I've been reading more blogs these days. The Women's Colony has some great writers and great readers with blogs of their own, so I've been linking in here and there to check people out who comment on the WC and also to scan through their blog rolls. A little fresh content to read, I guess. And in the way of good blogging, I'm trying to connect with people with a little two - way communication by posting a comment here or there.
One of these forays took me to a great site - Swistle's - and some insights on voting: namely, what should and should not be fodder for our politicians. It thought her post was excellent and not just because I agree with her position. It was clean, concise and unemotional. It was logical and respectful. And let's face it when it comes to issues like voting on gay marriage, people's emotions typically take over. I decided her post deserved some positive feedback and so I moved to the comment link.
And. Then. I. Paused.
She had over 100 comments. Hmmmm. Is this typical traffic for Swistle I wondered or had the controversial topic, even so respectfully handled, driven the crazies out for a ride?
Still, I thought, I'd like to connect with this person. This post was worth my attention and my effort to comment. I scrolled all the way down to the bottom and typed a polite and insightful comment (if I do say so myself). Then I glanced at the comment above and my jaw dropped open. Leaving my draft comment in place, I continued scrolling and realized there was a bit of a knock-down-drag-out happening in the comment section of Swistle's blog. All of the emotion she had managed to keep out of the post was spilling over in the comment section and I could almost see in my mind's eye the rabid hordes of protesters standing on either side of her home screaming at one another.
My blood began to boil as I felt the emotion that too often clouds our judgment in these matters rise to the level of her other commenters. I called on specific names to rebut their arguments and positions, I wrote and re-wrote the response which was growing longer and more emotional by the minute. Any of you who read my blog normally know my rather rigid stance against organized religion and that OR thing was all over this blog. Then, by some happenstance, my computer blue-screened and all of my vitriol was wiped out in one moment.
Today, I went back to Swistle's site and checked on the status. The comments were up to nearly 150 at this point and most of them were a continuing argument between a few rabid players. I was happy, I determined, that my computer had saved me from engaging in the battle as my peaceful little blog has thus far escaped too much controversy and poison from readers somehow offended by my lonely little opinions.
However, I wonder if this very relief is indicative of how the moderates in the world end up allowing the extremists on either side to do their speaking for them. Is this how, on election day, the rights of our fellow humans are trampled upon? Because there are more voices raised in hate than in acceptance? Is it a lesson to learn that quiet acceptance of differences cannot be the norm until LOUD PROPONENTS of differences prevail?
So, from here, I'm heading back to Swistle's blog and put my two cents out there. But I'm going to try and moderate my comments with respect and logic and quiet fortitude and leave the vitriol to others.
---
I've been reading more blogs these days. The Women's Colony has some great writers and great readers with blogs of their own, so I've been linking in here and there to check people out who comment on the WC and also to scan through their blog rolls. A little fresh content to read, I guess. And in the way of good blogging, I'm trying to connect with people with a little two - way communication by posting a comment here or there.
One of these forays took me to a great site - Swistle's - and some insights on voting: namely, what should and should not be fodder for our politicians. It thought her post was excellent and not just because I agree with her position. It was clean, concise and unemotional. It was logical and respectful. And let's face it when it comes to issues like voting on gay marriage, people's emotions typically take over. I decided her post deserved some positive feedback and so I moved to the comment link.
And. Then. I. Paused.
She had over 100 comments. Hmmmm. Is this typical traffic for Swistle I wondered or had the controversial topic, even so respectfully handled, driven the crazies out for a ride?
Still, I thought, I'd like to connect with this person. This post was worth my attention and my effort to comment. I scrolled all the way down to the bottom and typed a polite and insightful comment (if I do say so myself). Then I glanced at the comment above and my jaw dropped open. Leaving my draft comment in place, I continued scrolling and realized there was a bit of a knock-down-drag-out happening in the comment section of Swistle's blog. All of the emotion she had managed to keep out of the post was spilling over in the comment section and I could almost see in my mind's eye the rabid hordes of protesters standing on either side of her home screaming at one another.
My blood began to boil as I felt the emotion that too often clouds our judgment in these matters rise to the level of her other commenters. I called on specific names to rebut their arguments and positions, I wrote and re-wrote the response which was growing longer and more emotional by the minute. Any of you who read my blog normally know my rather rigid stance against organized religion and that OR thing was all over this blog. Then, by some happenstance, my computer blue-screened and all of my vitriol was wiped out in one moment.
Today, I went back to Swistle's site and checked on the status. The comments were up to nearly 150 at this point and most of them were a continuing argument between a few rabid players. I was happy, I determined, that my computer had saved me from engaging in the battle as my peaceful little blog has thus far escaped too much controversy and poison from readers somehow offended by my lonely little opinions.
However, I wonder if this very relief is indicative of how the moderates in the world end up allowing the extremists on either side to do their speaking for them. Is this how, on election day, the rights of our fellow humans are trampled upon? Because there are more voices raised in hate than in acceptance? Is it a lesson to learn that quiet acceptance of differences cannot be the norm until LOUD PROPONENTS of differences prevail?
So, from here, I'm heading back to Swistle's blog and put my two cents out there. But I'm going to try and moderate my comments with respect and logic and quiet fortitude and leave the vitriol to others.
But MO-OM I don't wanna go to school
This is echoing through my head as I prepare for my last class of the semester and enroll for my next semester in the seemingly never-ending pursuit of my master's degree. I'm feeling particularly anti-school today because I have a group project (collective groan from all my fellow-suffering grad students) due next weekend.
I work in groups all the time at my office. In fact, I rarely do anything completely alone and thrive from collective brainstorming, consensus building, and co-authoring of written materials. I would NEVER complete something without getting someone else to weigh in...it just sharpens my process and final deliverable.
But at school, with people who just aren't motivated or interested in participating, I'm sick of the group project. Just leave me alone to do my reading, writing, and class participation without the rest of you, thank you very much.
This weekend I must complete my own final paper on "Leading Change" which is more complicated than it sounds because it's about applying the soft sciences to the much more defined workplace environment. A study of human behavior within an organization. I, of course, am using the MERGER as my topic, which adds to the complexity as I AM LIVING THIS EVERY DAY. And while it is great to have the professor tell you to write the paper like you are EMPOWERED to make the change happen as you need it to...it's pretty frustrating to then go into the office and have little to no power at all.
But back to the group.
They bug me. And not ladybug bug, but more like spider bug.
The two "men" in my group seem like they are barely old enough to have graduated high school, much less college and have had little to no interest in making a real effort since the professor shared his grading philosophy of never giving less than a B. Well that's great for all of us who need a B or higher to get tuition reimbursement (professor's reasoning), but what about the group that is hauling around these two teenagers like a couple of bowling balls.
Next week we will have one hour to complete our group project, then we have to do a 45 minute role-play exercise. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
I spent the last 3 hours orchestrating the whole thing on paper with role descriptions, class participation notes, and scene by scene breakdown aligned with 75% of the change management tools we've learned about in class.
After this I think I should be allowed to sit in the back of the room and pick my nose and get my A, but I doubt the professor would understand. Then again, according to him I could sit in the back of the room and pick my nose and won't get lower than a B.
Hmmmmm.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Ladybug, Ladybug
Nearly ALL cultures believe that a Ladybug is lucky. Killing one is said to bring sadness and misfortune.
And we might have to revisit that legend about sadness and misfortune.
So, given the work environment and economic conditions, I'm okay about welcoming a few into my office this fall. For the last several weeks my metal mini-blinds have been "tink-tinking" with every lifting and landing of a friendly polka dotted beetle.
This is likely the only insect I can say I welcome. I don't mind if they crawl across my hand, or my keyboard, and no shiver up and down my spine that spiders, ants, bees, and other bugs can induce.
Currently there are about 6 crawling on and around my window. Once in a while, I try to move them onto the friendly green leaves of my plants, but they tend to prefer the window glass, blinds, and papers on my desk.
I would not, however, be so welcoming if the numbers grew to the thousands I read about in Washington and Maryland.
This is likely the only insect I can say I welcome. I don't mind if they crawl across my hand, or my keyboard, and no shiver up and down my spine that spiders, ants, bees, and other bugs can induce.
Currently there are about 6 crawling on and around my window. Once in a while, I try to move them onto the friendly green leaves of my plants, but they tend to prefer the window glass, blinds, and papers on my desk.
I would not, however, be so welcoming if the numbers grew to the thousands I read about in Washington and Maryland.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
More New Stuff
Today I visited our soon-to-be new address. Office, that is, not home. For the first time in over 35 years, my company is relocating its headquarters from the outskirts/suburbia to a downtown location.
(Don't get excited, it's not like we are moving to Manhattan, just little old White Plains). We will also be moving from a building that is entirely our own space to a two-floor setup in a high-rise building with many other tenants.
While walking the space with another member of my group, she kept talking about what a change this will be for our culture. I thought she meant being able to walk to public transit...or being able to run an errand at the adjacent huge shopping mall...or having covered parking in the winter...all the GREAT things about this new place. But how naive of me not to think that people dwell on the negative when it comes to change.
When you make a move personally, there are a lot of psychological steps you take. You make the decision. Then, filled with excitement at your decision, you purge, you pack, you clean, and maybe you mourn a little, but then you return to your state of excitement and you go! When your company moves you multiply this by 300 people and then you add on the not insignificant element of upheaval that comes from the first step being skipped by 295 of the people involved. Yes, that's right, those 295 did NOT make the decision to move. (For the record, I am one of the 295, not the 5).
For some reason, in the business world, this means that 295 people feel it is their duty to feel betrayed, to bitch, to whine, to question, and even to revolt. I find it tremendously amusing, and equally frustrating, to watch people act out on this emotional reaction.
I often find myself asking, "If you were to get a job offer tomorrow at a new company how much of your decision to accept or not would be based on the square footage of your cubicle; the height of your cubicle walls; the identity of your cubicle neighbor; the distance between your desk and the bathroom, the break room, the exit; etc? When you look for a job do you think, I will only apply for a job on this street? or do you think within X miles of my home? If you accept that job, do you expect them to buy you a new chair, replace the art work on the adjacent wall, provide you with an extra filing cabinet or book shelf, or move the HVAC unit over your desk??"
Of course not. If you are like 99.9% of us working folks, you just want to know you like the company, you enjoy the work and do it well, you hopefully will like your boss, and you'll get some nice pay and benefits out of the deal.
Why is it then, that just because you have now worked for a company for 3 months to 30 years do you assume that you have the right to dictate individual needs into a space designed for 300 people? Why do you feel that in this economy, or really any economy, it is appropriate to bitch about the company saving money by reducing individual cubicle space by 2 square feet/person rather than doing a 10% layoff?
I understand. Really I do. It's change. No one loves change. But this is business folks. So let's make a business kind of deal.
Go home, put your feet up on your favorite cushion, have a glass of your favorite wine, watch your favorite TV channel. We won't interfere, I promise. We won't dictate that you move the couch 3 inches to the left, turn the volume down on your tv, and change from red wine to white. Essentially, I'm asking you to go home at the end of the day and LIVE YOUR LIFE AS YOU SEE FIT.
And tomorrow, in exchange, when you come into work....well...COME IN TO FREAKING WORK. Don't stress about cubicle arrangements, conference rooms, artwork, or the size and temperature of the breakroom fridge. Let the Company run its business as best it can.
Deal? Deal.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Halloween...Oh so sweet
This weekend we took a ride down to DC to see our favorite Sarge become our favoriate 2nd Lieutenant. (Photos and story coming tomorrow). But today, I've conquered Little Man A's Mom's Mac just in time to upload a few highlight photos of LMA and Baby Brother Z and poor exhausted Mom....Happy Halloween.
Moments after awaking from her exhausted cat nap above, Mom rallies for Halloween festivities.
Want to see what Baby Brother Z was costumed as? You have to go to Searching for an Even Balance to see it.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
The Other Side of the Desk
Dateline: April 1990. I was a young office worker in a marketing department. Our job was to sell senior living apartments to retirement age homeowners. Somehow the job had turned into a cold-calling telemarketing nightmare. And cold-calling can only be made worse when you are cold-calling elderly people.
"Hello, is Mr. Smith available?"
"MR. SMITH DIED LAST YEAR!!!!"
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry...um...are you Mrs. Smith?"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE KEEP CALLING HERE - MR. SMITH IS DEAD."
"I apologize Ma'am, I'm calling from XXX and was hoping to talk to you about an opportunity to live in a place with more amenities and services that would enrich your life."
"WHY WOULD I LEAVE MY HOME??? MR. SMITH BUILT THIS WITH HIS OWN HANDS AND I RAISE ALL 17 OF MY KIDS HERE AND WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING HERE ASKING FOR MR. SMITH?"
[probably because Mr. Smith is still the name on all the utility bills and public records...but I get how it is upsetting]
"Well we thought you might enjoy a day out and a tour and learning a little about what we offer - we like to compare our community with a cruise ship on land, we have activities, and restaurants, and organized outings, and..."
"I DON'T LIKE TO CRUISE, I GET SEASICK. AND MY NEIGHBOR MILDRED DRIVES ME TO SHOP I DON'T NEED AN ORGANIZED OUTING. AND I COOK FOR MYSELF...THOSE FANCY FOODS DON'T AGREE WITH MY DIGESTION."
Multiply this conversation by 100 and you had my typical workday.
And yet, as miserable as I was at this job, when I sat across the desk from my boss that morning and expected the usual pep talk about how to handle the calls and her expectations for at least 7 appointments to be made that week, I was unpreprepared for her announcement that I was being let go.
It was devastating. I hated this job, but to have someone take it away was like a blow to the gut.
In the end, after unemployment and frustrating job searches, and finally a relocation to find work, I found my real professional home. And after some time had passed I realized that boss had done me a real favor in kicking my complacent miserable ass to the curb.
Fast forward 20 years and here I am. On the other side of the desk. And I'm here to tell you that the message is no easier to give than it was to receive.
"Hello, is Mr. Smith available?"
"MR. SMITH DIED LAST YEAR!!!!"
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry...um...are you Mrs. Smith?"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE KEEP CALLING HERE - MR. SMITH IS DEAD."
"I apologize Ma'am, I'm calling from XXX and was hoping to talk to you about an opportunity to live in a place with more amenities and services that would enrich your life."
"WHY WOULD I LEAVE MY HOME??? MR. SMITH BUILT THIS WITH HIS OWN HANDS AND I RAISE ALL 17 OF MY KIDS HERE AND WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING HERE ASKING FOR MR. SMITH?"
[probably because Mr. Smith is still the name on all the utility bills and public records...but I get how it is upsetting]
"Well we thought you might enjoy a day out and a tour and learning a little about what we offer - we like to compare our community with a cruise ship on land, we have activities, and restaurants, and organized outings, and..."
"I DON'T LIKE TO CRUISE, I GET SEASICK. AND MY NEIGHBOR MILDRED DRIVES ME TO SHOP I DON'T NEED AN ORGANIZED OUTING. AND I COOK FOR MYSELF...THOSE FANCY FOODS DON'T AGREE WITH MY DIGESTION."
Multiply this conversation by 100 and you had my typical workday.
And yet, as miserable as I was at this job, when I sat across the desk from my boss that morning and expected the usual pep talk about how to handle the calls and her expectations for at least 7 appointments to be made that week, I was unpreprepared for her announcement that I was being let go.
It was devastating. I hated this job, but to have someone take it away was like a blow to the gut.
In the end, after unemployment and frustrating job searches, and finally a relocation to find work, I found my real professional home. And after some time had passed I realized that boss had done me a real favor in kicking my complacent miserable ass to the curb.
Fast forward 20 years and here I am. On the other side of the desk. And I'm here to tell you that the message is no easier to give than it was to receive.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Truth to Power
10.27.09 Post Script
CEO Daughter just stopped by my desk with a smile and offered me a Russian candy. After contemplating it for a moment and wondering on the odds of poisoning...I decided to give it a try. A delicious lemon drop. And I'm still alive.
----
One of the buzz phrases of the business environment is "the ability to speak truth to power". I think it may actually have originated in politics - you know - in order to be a good advisor, you need to be able to speak truth to power, but it is valid in the business environment today.
I had my chance on Friday. Not in a way that would affect a business decisions, but a more personal discussion. You see, my department intern is the CEO's teenage daughter.
[pause for reaction]
Yes, I know. But luckily I have a CEO who is honest, forthright, and approachable and who told me on day one that I was to hold his daughter accountable just as I would any other member of the team...and maybe moreso. He is also paying her salary. And I don't mean that in the sense of he oversees her budget, I mean that he writes a check to the company to cover her salary to make it a net zero impact on our budget. This is not about getting his kid a job for some pocket money, this is about teaching her to EARN her pocket money. You gotta respect that.
So, needless to say, when it came to my attention that we had a situation with her attendance...I struggled with how to deal with it. I mean, it's not like I would call anyone else's Mom or Dad who works for me to address this...even an intern...but he asked me to hold her accountable and I had a complicated situation.
You see, she called in on a Friday saying she had a mid-term to study for. While we had some deadline work for her, we respect our interns are students first and we said ok. Then, when she arrived on the following Tuesday she let it slip that she had actually been hanging out with her friends because her parents were both traveling and she was grounded, so this was her way to skip out on her punishment. Why was she grounded? Because she had come home drunk when she was supposed to be studying with friends. Lies on top of lies.
I really thought I would deal with this directly with her, but then I thought about her safety and our responsibility should anything happen to her if we didn't clue in her family on what was going on. The added complication is his daughter has only been in his family for about 4 years having been adopted from an orphanage in Russia when she was just 15 years old.
I was still debating what to do while eating lunch with the CEO and some execs last week. Then he said, "So I hear [daughter] is working extra hours these days." And there it was. My opportunity to cover for her with a bald-faced lie, to play clueless and pretend I didn't know what me meant, or to come clean with everything I knew.
What would you do?
Many people I asked said they wouldn't have said a word. Or if anything, they just would have so, "No, not that I'm aware of" and have him go digging for the truth with his daughter. But I'm not good at games and I totally respect this man, so, I did it. I took him aside and told him the whole story. When I was done, I told him that it was awkward to have to do this, but that I hoped it was the right decision.
Then...and here's another place you can question my judgment, I came back to the office and told his daughter that as of that moment, her Dad knew everything. She, of course, turned bright red with embarrassment (there's hope for her yet!). I asked her to take one important lesson from this: Don't put me in a position to have to lie to her father. I value his trust too much.
Today, he thanked me. He apologized for putting me and my team in an awkward position and he thanked me. They are struggling with allowing her some independence and trying to trust her with it, and then having to discipline her bad judgment. He also learned that the family she was staying with were told by his daughter that she was not only working on Friday, she worked longer hours than usual. Lies on top of Lies on top of Lies!
I feel sorry for her a bit. She is going to be 19. Most kids her age and in her situation are away at school, making their mistakes without Mom and Dad looking on. She doesn't have that luxury...she has to make her mistakes in the spotlight. Learning to make decisions based upon what others expect you to do, based upon a level of respect for them and their judgment...this is a tough life lesson.
The daughter? She comes in tomorrow for the first time since this went down. I don't think she'll thank me. But maybe some day when she has a child of her own, or a staff of her own, she will.
CEO Daughter just stopped by my desk with a smile and offered me a Russian candy. After contemplating it for a moment and wondering on the odds of poisoning...I decided to give it a try. A delicious lemon drop. And I'm still alive.
----
One of the buzz phrases of the business environment is "the ability to speak truth to power". I think it may actually have originated in politics - you know - in order to be a good advisor, you need to be able to speak truth to power, but it is valid in the business environment today.
I had my chance on Friday. Not in a way that would affect a business decisions, but a more personal discussion. You see, my department intern is the CEO's teenage daughter.
[pause for reaction]
Yes, I know. But luckily I have a CEO who is honest, forthright, and approachable and who told me on day one that I was to hold his daughter accountable just as I would any other member of the team...and maybe moreso. He is also paying her salary. And I don't mean that in the sense of he oversees her budget, I mean that he writes a check to the company to cover her salary to make it a net zero impact on our budget. This is not about getting his kid a job for some pocket money, this is about teaching her to EARN her pocket money. You gotta respect that.
So, needless to say, when it came to my attention that we had a situation with her attendance...I struggled with how to deal with it. I mean, it's not like I would call anyone else's Mom or Dad who works for me to address this...even an intern...but he asked me to hold her accountable and I had a complicated situation.
You see, she called in on a Friday saying she had a mid-term to study for. While we had some deadline work for her, we respect our interns are students first and we said ok. Then, when she arrived on the following Tuesday she let it slip that she had actually been hanging out with her friends because her parents were both traveling and she was grounded, so this was her way to skip out on her punishment. Why was she grounded? Because she had come home drunk when she was supposed to be studying with friends. Lies on top of lies.
I really thought I would deal with this directly with her, but then I thought about her safety and our responsibility should anything happen to her if we didn't clue in her family on what was going on. The added complication is his daughter has only been in his family for about 4 years having been adopted from an orphanage in Russia when she was just 15 years old.
I was still debating what to do while eating lunch with the CEO and some execs last week. Then he said, "So I hear [daughter] is working extra hours these days." And there it was. My opportunity to cover for her with a bald-faced lie, to play clueless and pretend I didn't know what me meant, or to come clean with everything I knew.
What would you do?
Many people I asked said they wouldn't have said a word. Or if anything, they just would have so, "No, not that I'm aware of" and have him go digging for the truth with his daughter. But I'm not good at games and I totally respect this man, so, I did it. I took him aside and told him the whole story. When I was done, I told him that it was awkward to have to do this, but that I hoped it was the right decision.
Then...and here's another place you can question my judgment, I came back to the office and told his daughter that as of that moment, her Dad knew everything. She, of course, turned bright red with embarrassment (there's hope for her yet!). I asked her to take one important lesson from this: Don't put me in a position to have to lie to her father. I value his trust too much.
Today, he thanked me. He apologized for putting me and my team in an awkward position and he thanked me. They are struggling with allowing her some independence and trying to trust her with it, and then having to discipline her bad judgment. He also learned that the family she was staying with were told by his daughter that she was not only working on Friday, she worked longer hours than usual. Lies on top of Lies on top of Lies!
I feel sorry for her a bit. She is going to be 19. Most kids her age and in her situation are away at school, making their mistakes without Mom and Dad looking on. She doesn't have that luxury...she has to make her mistakes in the spotlight. Learning to make decisions based upon what others expect you to do, based upon a level of respect for them and their judgment...this is a tough life lesson.
The daughter? She comes in tomorrow for the first time since this went down. I don't think she'll thank me. But maybe some day when she has a child of her own, or a staff of her own, she will.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Right Person
And this picture is why I know he is the right person. I've never seen her so happy. Thank G*D for 2nd chances.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
12 Hour Countdown
In just 12 hours I'll be walking down the aisle again. This is my 7th wedding.
Not as a bride....of course...you just read about my 20th! As a bridesmaid. I've been in two rainbow weddings (ah, the 80s), 2 black and white weddings (ah, the 90's) and 1 polyester navy wedding (ah the 70s) and of course the floral wedding.This is a first...or should I say a 2nd. It is the 2nd time I've walked the aisle on behalf of this bride, and I'm hoping this one will take. We'd never want to negate the first, since it brought her the most beautiful twin girls, but this one brings her a great man, another daughter, and two sons to add to her current brood.
It's a Sunday morning outdoor wedding in upstate NY. On our drive upstate yesterday? We drove through snow....beautiful...but more winter-like than harvest fall weather.
Tomorrow's forecast?? dicey at best...
8 am 35°F Partly Cloudy
9 am 37°F Partly Cloudy
10 am 39°F Partly Cloudy
The setting is incredible (pictured above), so the bridesmaids are determined to ignore our frigid toes in strappy sandals in the frosty grass and the goose pimples scattered amonst the pearls the bride gave us today and running down our bare arms. We did the run-through today in the drizzly rain and survived, so here's hoping for tomorrow.
8 am 35°F Partly Cloudy
9 am 37°F Partly Cloudy
10 am 39°F Partly Cloudy
The setting is incredible (pictured above), so the bridesmaids are determined to ignore our frigid toes in strappy sandals in the frosty grass and the goose pimples scattered amonst the pearls the bride gave us today and running down our bare arms. We did the run-through today in the drizzly rain and survived, so here's hoping for tomorrow.
Send good vibes our way....this bride and groom deserve a beautiful memorable moment overlooking Canandaigua lake and the gorgeous fall colors around them.
12 hours to go....
Thursday, October 15, 2009
LOL
Laughing out loud is such a joy, isn't it? On Monday night, I was watching the new comedy "Accidentally On Purpose" and experienced such an LOL moment that it has recurred several times a day since. The show is not tremendously good, and Jenna Elfman can get on my nerves pretty quickly, but I was so startled by the joke that I didn't just giggle, smile, smirk, but I really laughed...out...loud.
I experienced a similar moment today at work, where a meeting was interrupted by a short hysterical interlude having to do with the sound the styrofoam plates were making (think chalk on blackboard) on the polished finish of the conference room table. You'd never get it, so not worth explaining, but the side-aching laughter was such a welcome relief to the MERGER environment we've been under.
Thinking about this also brought back a memory of my Dad. We were sitting on a couch watching, for the first time, the Paul Newman movie Slapshot. When it got to the scene where he puts the crazy brothers into the hockey game and they proceed to beat up every other skater on the ice in the most random and aggressive ways, I remember my father starting to chuckle. Not one to react to TV very often, except to call it the Boob Tube, I was surprised. He often sat there with his thumbs aggravatingly twiddling, but he didn't often laugh with the comedies. As the scene went on for moment after moment of ridiculous and brutal sport, my father and I begain to really laugh...and laugh...and laugh. I think we were both wiping away tears by the time it was over. Not sure the movie (clip below) is as funny now, but the memory is priceless.
I hope you find something today that really makes you laugh. No wry quirk of the lips. No minor, "ha, that's funny" comments. But true, uncontrolled, giggles, belly laughs, snorts, and maybe even a little pee your pants kind of laughter. It is truly a joyous thing.
I experienced a similar moment today at work, where a meeting was interrupted by a short hysterical interlude having to do with the sound the styrofoam plates were making (think chalk on blackboard) on the polished finish of the conference room table. You'd never get it, so not worth explaining, but the side-aching laughter was such a welcome relief to the MERGER environment we've been under.
Thinking about this also brought back a memory of my Dad. We were sitting on a couch watching, for the first time, the Paul Newman movie Slapshot. When it got to the scene where he puts the crazy brothers into the hockey game and they proceed to beat up every other skater on the ice in the most random and aggressive ways, I remember my father starting to chuckle. Not one to react to TV very often, except to call it the Boob Tube, I was surprised. He often sat there with his thumbs aggravatingly twiddling, but he didn't often laugh with the comedies. As the scene went on for moment after moment of ridiculous and brutal sport, my father and I begain to really laugh...and laugh...and laugh. I think we were both wiping away tears by the time it was over. Not sure the movie (clip below) is as funny now, but the memory is priceless.
I hope you find something today that really makes you laugh. No wry quirk of the lips. No minor, "ha, that's funny" comments. But true, uncontrolled, giggles, belly laughs, snorts, and maybe even a little pee your pants kind of laughter. It is truly a joyous thing.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
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NOWSunday, October 11, 2009
Priceless
- 600 miles on the Subaru - $100.00
- Two nights at Crook Jaw Inn, Yarmouthport - $300.00
- Price Fixe Menu at the Ocean House - $98.00
For the first time, Hubby and I visited Cape Cod in the Fall. Expecting to see an explosion of autumn colors, we were quite surprised to instead find it a very mild 70 degrees and very green. The ocean waters apparently warm the area and delay the season. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful time to be at the Cape. We stayed at a lovely B&B (Crook Jaw Inn) right on the famous 6A in Yarmouthport. This 1780's house was so well appointed and charming, and we immediately felt at home.
This little trip was just a small treat to mark our 20th anniversary (coming on 14th). In contrast with our 10th anniversary where we spent 2 weeks in Hawaii, we really had to squeeze it in this year between work, school, and family commitments, but squeeze we did. Although fighting the Columbus Day traffic on I-95 made me think we were a little nuts, we finally arrived and had a lovely weekend. We topped off a day of wandering (and of course, with Hubby at the lead - plenty of photography) ...
...with a fabulous meal at the Ocean House in Dennisport. Their fall price fixe menu was incredible and for a very reasonable amount, we had a spectacular 3 course meal.
While Hubby is the pro photographer...I had fun with his old castoff 35 mm SLR and posted some of the results here. (Note: Hubby was a real help with the photoshop techniques I could use to make the images even better for printing...but it was ME who used the posterize filter to create some fun shots where the lighting just wasn't working for the plain photo.) I think the Americana of the Cape works perfectly with the poster technique.
Of course, art is nothing without sacrifice. In this instance, I sacrificed some shoes.
< Teaser: Next weekend...the WEDDING OF THE CENTURY. Me, the bridesmaids and the bride all in sleeveless gowns for a lakeside ceremony in mid October...and yes - high temps in the 40's are predicted..... >
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Transparency, Sort of
On the communications theme, I spent today in three meetings (clones of one another) as our merger leadership gave presentations to offer our staff the opportunity to understand what is happening as we integrate and also allow questions. Our staff? the ones who regularly beat down our doors, grab us in hallways, accost us at the water cooler, and fill our email boxes? yes those same staff were nearly silent in the Q&A portion.
In my youth and inexperienced days I might have actually thought that meant the presentations were so thorough they answered all the questions.
Ah youth.
About 10 years ago, when I remained a little innocent and ignorant of group dynamics I may have thought people were just not engaged or interested.
Ah ignorance.
But today, I know that it comes down to how people function - both culturally within the organization and due to their own fears and inhibitions. Why else would you see a room fill to standing capacity but yet no one will take the 20 seats still available in the front row? Why else would you hear questions as people entered the room as they spoke to their buddies, and questions as they exited the room - again to their buddies - but silence when an opportunity was presented to ask something.
As the communications professional in the room, it's usually a bad idea for me to ask questions - I look like a corporate plant, put there to lob softball questions at the speakers and be a general kiss-ass. But eventually I did ask one, just because there was at least one burning question that no one else was asking.
It is not easy to convince leaders that transparency and sincerity in communications is a requirement - especially in times of change - but we did convince them and they are here to offer information. It is not easy to convince the MERGER company that our organization is used to getting lots of information and having a stake or ownership role in every decision ... they are used to consensus processes, not top-down led direction. And if everyone keeps their mouths shut at each of these meetings, we'll never convince them of that.
So today, we made a stab at promoting Transparency...sort of.
And it worked, sort of.
And now I have to work really really hard to convince the leaders to do it again, and again, and again.
I wish the staff would help me out with this a bit. But I'm getting used to scaling the wall alone.
In my youth and inexperienced days I might have actually thought that meant the presentations were so thorough they answered all the questions.
Ah youth.
About 10 years ago, when I remained a little innocent and ignorant of group dynamics I may have thought people were just not engaged or interested.
Ah ignorance.
But today, I know that it comes down to how people function - both culturally within the organization and due to their own fears and inhibitions. Why else would you see a room fill to standing capacity but yet no one will take the 20 seats still available in the front row? Why else would you hear questions as people entered the room as they spoke to their buddies, and questions as they exited the room - again to their buddies - but silence when an opportunity was presented to ask something.
As the communications professional in the room, it's usually a bad idea for me to ask questions - I look like a corporate plant, put there to lob softball questions at the speakers and be a general kiss-ass. But eventually I did ask one, just because there was at least one burning question that no one else was asking.
It is not easy to convince leaders that transparency and sincerity in communications is a requirement - especially in times of change - but we did convince them and they are here to offer information. It is not easy to convince the MERGER company that our organization is used to getting lots of information and having a stake or ownership role in every decision ... they are used to consensus processes, not top-down led direction. And if everyone keeps their mouths shut at each of these meetings, we'll never convince them of that.
So today, we made a stab at promoting Transparency...sort of.
And it worked, sort of.
And now I have to work really really hard to convince the leaders to do it again, and again, and again.
I wish the staff would help me out with this a bit. But I'm getting used to scaling the wall alone.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Communications Strategy When You've Done "Terrible Terrible Things"
I'm a marketing communications professional...so when I was watching the Letterman Show last week, I was absolutely fascinated by the communications strategy.
If you've been out of the loop for the past week, you may not know the story. David Letterman, of Late Night Show fame, was being blackmailed by a man who had evidence of Letterman's various affairs with women in his office. Rather than pay the blackmail, David Letterman consulted with his lawyer and worked with police to catch the culprit and subsequently testify to the Grand Jury about the fact that Yes he had done the things the blackmailer accused him of. (at this point, Hubby rolls his eyes and says, "I couldn't care less about this if I tried.")
But I care. Not about Letterman and a sex and blackmail scandal, but about the communication strategy employed to save Letterman's persona.
Letterman made the choice to out himself and this situation immediately, or at least before the media got hold of it. Not so unusual these days, people - especially famous people - are beginning to learn that there is nothing that turns off the media so much as being hand-fed their info. They prefer the hunt and the bloody kill to the sacrifice.
But HOW he did it was the real twist. He monologued it (if that's even a verb). I'm sure he was thinking that this controlled environment, with an audience full of fans who were completely prepped to respond with chuckles and applause was the way to get it out in the open without possibility of tough questions, accusations of sexual harassment, and really anyone who could derail his side of the story. It reminded me of times when I have shared stories of embarrassing moments in my life with friends, asking them to laugh with me, rather than at me, and embellishing the story to get as many laughs as possible while surrounded by people who love me despite my foibles and faults. And truthfully, sex scandals can barely even bring down a politician nowadays, and certainly an entertainer can almost count on an uptick of TV ratings.
I guess it was the source of the blackmail material that made the communication strategy a little off kilter for me. The fact that Letterman actively garnered laughter and applause for his misdeeds...for his "terrible terrible things". Like an errant schoolboy caught pilfering from the teacher's lounge instead of a head of a multi-million dollar business who had been caught with his pants down with women who worked for him. I mean, let's be realistic too. Perhaps everything was consensual and the only real injured party here is his long-standing (and finally wedded) partner of 20 years. But how, I wonder, did she react to his delivery of the message to the public? Has her dignity been sacrificed at the altar of his career? What did she feel when subsequent guests came on the show with wise-cracking comments to make light of this situation?
These are the kinds of current event topics that come up in class in my master's program. Last year it was the A-Rod steroid scandal and if we were his communications consultant what would we recommend? Mea Culpa's was the consensus. Stop denying and excusing, and admit wrongdoing and apologize. Ask for forgiveness. I wonder what would have happened if A-Rod had taken his admission of guilt to Comedy Central and made self-effacing jokes about it?
Sincerity. Any expert worth his/her salt will tell you that's the key to any communication strategy. Whether personal or professional, eventually bullshit falls apart, spin is dissected, and flat-out lying is brought to light. If Letterman's admission had been a little more tinged with embarrassment and a little less self-congratulatory I might have been convinced of HIS sincerity. As I watched him, I think I picked up on the non-verbal cues of someone who is actually physically in discomfort. Each time he seemed to be getting serious about the story, and getting uncomfortable with the subject, he returned to a comfort zone of a quirked eyebrow, smart-ass comment, or some other comedian's tool. He actively encouraged the audience when they laughed, playing on their "inappropriate" enjoyment of his plight. "Now why is THAT funny?" he'd ask - obviously begging for more. All in all, it was fascinating to watch and pick apart with my brain engaged in strategic dissection.
Regardless of my reaction, I'm sure David Letterman will survive this latest debacle. I'm sure people will rally around him as just your average good guy from Indiana who was made a victim of someone else's greed. So in the end, isn't he lucky that it was an extortion scheme that brought this to light and not a sexual harassment claim?
If you've been out of the loop for the past week, you may not know the story. David Letterman, of Late Night Show fame, was being blackmailed by a man who had evidence of Letterman's various affairs with women in his office. Rather than pay the blackmail, David Letterman consulted with his lawyer and worked with police to catch the culprit and subsequently testify to the Grand Jury about the fact that Yes he had done the things the blackmailer accused him of. (at this point, Hubby rolls his eyes and says, "I couldn't care less about this if I tried.")
But I care. Not about Letterman and a sex and blackmail scandal, but about the communication strategy employed to save Letterman's persona.
Letterman made the choice to out himself and this situation immediately, or at least before the media got hold of it. Not so unusual these days, people - especially famous people - are beginning to learn that there is nothing that turns off the media so much as being hand-fed their info. They prefer the hunt and the bloody kill to the sacrifice.
But HOW he did it was the real twist. He monologued it (if that's even a verb). I'm sure he was thinking that this controlled environment, with an audience full of fans who were completely prepped to respond with chuckles and applause was the way to get it out in the open without possibility of tough questions, accusations of sexual harassment, and really anyone who could derail his side of the story. It reminded me of times when I have shared stories of embarrassing moments in my life with friends, asking them to laugh with me, rather than at me, and embellishing the story to get as many laughs as possible while surrounded by people who love me despite my foibles and faults. And truthfully, sex scandals can barely even bring down a politician nowadays, and certainly an entertainer can almost count on an uptick of TV ratings.
I guess it was the source of the blackmail material that made the communication strategy a little off kilter for me. The fact that Letterman actively garnered laughter and applause for his misdeeds...for his "terrible terrible things". Like an errant schoolboy caught pilfering from the teacher's lounge instead of a head of a multi-million dollar business who had been caught with his pants down with women who worked for him. I mean, let's be realistic too. Perhaps everything was consensual and the only real injured party here is his long-standing (and finally wedded) partner of 20 years. But how, I wonder, did she react to his delivery of the message to the public? Has her dignity been sacrificed at the altar of his career? What did she feel when subsequent guests came on the show with wise-cracking comments to make light of this situation?
These are the kinds of current event topics that come up in class in my master's program. Last year it was the A-Rod steroid scandal and if we were his communications consultant what would we recommend? Mea Culpa's was the consensus. Stop denying and excusing, and admit wrongdoing and apologize. Ask for forgiveness. I wonder what would have happened if A-Rod had taken his admission of guilt to Comedy Central and made self-effacing jokes about it?
Sincerity. Any expert worth his/her salt will tell you that's the key to any communication strategy. Whether personal or professional, eventually bullshit falls apart, spin is dissected, and flat-out lying is brought to light. If Letterman's admission had been a little more tinged with embarrassment and a little less self-congratulatory I might have been convinced of HIS sincerity. As I watched him, I think I picked up on the non-verbal cues of someone who is actually physically in discomfort. Each time he seemed to be getting serious about the story, and getting uncomfortable with the subject, he returned to a comfort zone of a quirked eyebrow, smart-ass comment, or some other comedian's tool. He actively encouraged the audience when they laughed, playing on their "inappropriate" enjoyment of his plight. "Now why is THAT funny?" he'd ask - obviously begging for more. All in all, it was fascinating to watch and pick apart with my brain engaged in strategic dissection.
Regardless of my reaction, I'm sure David Letterman will survive this latest debacle. I'm sure people will rally around him as just your average good guy from Indiana who was made a victim of someone else's greed. So in the end, isn't he lucky that it was an extortion scheme that brought this to light and not a sexual harassment claim?
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Alma Mater
Ok, so a truth about Wenderina. She is a college student...AGAIN. I'm halfway through my master's at Manhattanville College in Purchase NY. And really, except for the lack of hangovers, pizza/beer parties, and bunk beds. It's all about the same. It brings back moments of nostalgia, especially when I'm trying to find the most comfortable way to sit in those stupid chair/desk combos that are not meant for anyone over the age of 14.
This weekend though, my undergrad school was featured on Today. It was pretty fluffy, hokey, and all that, but just watching the shots of campus, how it is the same and yet so changed, seeing the sunset over the valley one more time, and hear the mention of my favorite sub shop, that just made my mouth water...yeah...nostalgia city.
This weekend though, my undergrad school was featured on Today. It was pretty fluffy, hokey, and all that, but just watching the shots of campus, how it is the same and yet so changed, seeing the sunset over the valley one more time, and hear the mention of my favorite sub shop, that just made my mouth water...yeah...nostalgia city.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Read My Pin
This week on NPR, there was a fascinating interview with Madeleine Albright about her new book and the museum exhibit that accompanies it. The book is "Read My Pins" and talks about how she used lapel broaches to portray her mood, or a subliminal message when conducting her all important functions as Secretary of State.
I was immediately charmed by her stories -- how Sadaam Hussein called her an "unparalleled serpent" when she pressed him on his refusal to coöperate with weapons inspectors...so she wore a gold serpent pin to their next meeting. Apparently he and his staff got the message and a tradition was born.
Today, I was headed to a meeting with the MERGER integration managers...folks we believe have our collective career destinies in their hands, and we can't quite get a beat on them. In fact, many times we find ourselves in adversarial positions with them when we want to push forward a communication or initiative, and they want to take a more...well...deliberate pace.(more like a pocket veto)
Taking a cue from Madeleine...I dug out a costume jewelry broach I had that would suit my mood and project the right subliminal messages. It kind of looks like an olive branch (actually , it looks like milk weed...but it is "in the style of" an olive branch). I was projecting peace and team spirit all day.
I wonder what Madeleine would say though, when at the end of the day I looked down and my little costume jewelry broach was bent nearly in half.
Read my pin.
I was immediately charmed by her stories -- how Sadaam Hussein called her an "unparalleled serpent" when she pressed him on his refusal to coöperate with weapons inspectors...so she wore a gold serpent pin to their next meeting. Apparently he and his staff got the message and a tradition was born.
"I found that jewelry had become part of my personal diplomatic arsenal," Secretary Albright has said. "While President George H.W. Bush had been known for saying 'Read my lips,' I began urging colleagues and reporters to 'Read my pins.'"
Today, I was headed to a meeting with the MERGER integration managers...folks we believe have our collective career destinies in their hands, and we can't quite get a beat on them. In fact, many times we find ourselves in adversarial positions with them when we want to push forward a communication or initiative, and they want to take a more...well...deliberate pace.(more like a pocket veto)
Taking a cue from Madeleine...I dug out a costume jewelry broach I had that would suit my mood and project the right subliminal messages. It kind of looks like an olive branch (actually , it looks like milk weed...but it is "in the style of" an olive branch). I was projecting peace and team spirit all day.
I wonder what Madeleine would say though, when at the end of the day I looked down and my little costume jewelry broach was bent nearly in half.
Read my pin.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Small Curiosities
What does Yoplait do with the returned yogurt lids?
Yes, I know they donate 10 cents per lid, but do you ever wonder how they decided to use returned lids as the source of collecting support for charities? Is there a financial benefit or reuse option for them in returning the foil? What happens to all the lids?
Why do (most) men fail to clean up after meetings?
I've left many a meeting room at my office wondering how it is that men always seem to assume there is some cleaning fairy that follows them around removing half-empty coffee cups, used napkins, plates and silverware, soda cans, etc. Not to mention unwanted handouts or meeting materials. Yet, (most) women clean up their own space in the meeting and often the men surrounding them. What's up with that?
Why is time not constant?
I'm sorry but regardless of all laws of physics, I KNOW that not every hour is equal. I've had hours last forever, and some go by in a snap. Today, for example rushed through until 2 PM then stopped DEAD. Is someone messing with the space-time continuum?
Why can't an avid reader like me meet book club deadlines?
It seems no matter how much I'd like to be in the book club, or how enticing the book is, the minute it is (gasp) "assigned reading" ....I'm dead. The book never gets read, or only painfully. Meanwhile, put me in a room with books and I'm a happy clam. Why does a formal invitation change that?
Why does tap water taste better in alternate packaging?
I'm a fan of tap water. I have to be. My company always says that if you go to any major city in the U.S. there is a 1 in 5 chance that we had a hand in the safe drinking water being provided. However, for reasons of mobility, sometimes I have to get bottled water. I typically save the bottle (for a short time...) and refill it with tap water. Why does it taste better from an evian bottle than it does from a plain old paper cup or glass?
----
Just some stuff that's been rocking around my brain of late.
Yes, I know they donate 10 cents per lid, but do you ever wonder how they decided to use returned lids as the source of collecting support for charities? Is there a financial benefit or reuse option for them in returning the foil? What happens to all the lids?
Why do (most) men fail to clean up after meetings?
I've left many a meeting room at my office wondering how it is that men always seem to assume there is some cleaning fairy that follows them around removing half-empty coffee cups, used napkins, plates and silverware, soda cans, etc. Not to mention unwanted handouts or meeting materials. Yet, (most) women clean up their own space in the meeting and often the men surrounding them. What's up with that?
Why is time not constant?
I'm sorry but regardless of all laws of physics, I KNOW that not every hour is equal. I've had hours last forever, and some go by in a snap. Today, for example rushed through until 2 PM then stopped DEAD. Is someone messing with the space-time continuum?
Why can't an avid reader like me meet book club deadlines?
It seems no matter how much I'd like to be in the book club, or how enticing the book is, the minute it is (gasp) "assigned reading" ....I'm dead. The book never gets read, or only painfully. Meanwhile, put me in a room with books and I'm a happy clam. Why does a formal invitation change that?
Why does tap water taste better in alternate packaging?
I'm a fan of tap water. I have to be. My company always says that if you go to any major city in the U.S. there is a 1 in 5 chance that we had a hand in the safe drinking water being provided. However, for reasons of mobility, sometimes I have to get bottled water. I typically save the bottle (for a short time...) and refill it with tap water. Why does it taste better from an evian bottle than it does from a plain old paper cup or glass?
----
Just some stuff that's been rocking around my brain of late.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
The cheese has indeed been moved
So I may be the last corporate being in America to read "Who Moved My Cheese"...and probably would never have read it except for my required reading for school. [Yes I am returning to the campus this weekend to continue my quest for my master's degree....] Other than the fact that my (soon to be) 3 year old nephew's books have smaller typeface (seriously, environmentally, this could have been put in a 3 page memo) the simple messages were excruciatingly apt to read right now.
As anyone who reads my blog regularly knows...I'm in the midst of a MERGER....I like to type MERGER in all caps because it raises the volume of that word. Plus, our MERGER company puts their name in ALL CAPS too...so I'm getting used to the Caps Lock key.
If anyone ever wants to experience cheesy movement....just try a MERGER. Especially as the staff of the smaller part of the merger (in essence the ACQUIRED), we are still trying to see if they are even going to let us in the maze at all or if our "new cheese" lays outside the maze completely.
If you are change averse, as I am, this book is an uncomfortable read...because, you see, only 3 out of the 4 characters survive. The two who immediately embrace change and probably saw it coming...so they just shrug and move on...and the one who eventually faces his fear and learns to find fun and adventure in searching for new cheese. The solid reliable satisfied character....yeah, you guessed it...he slowly starves in his old corner of the maze too afraid or stubborn to seek new cheese.
Because it is a simple parable meant to illustrate a point it of course doesn't get down to the brass tacks of how one might be expected to pay for the running shoes you need to chase new cheese, or the upkeep of the leaky roof on the resting hut outside the maze, but I guess that is all part of the adventure, right?
There are days, mind you, where I figure the change outside the maze can't be much more disruptive than the change going on inside...so I'll try to keep my eye on the cheese as it ...um...ripens?
I really do not want to be the skeleton found amongst the dust in the back of the maze.
As anyone who reads my blog regularly knows...I'm in the midst of a MERGER....I like to type MERGER in all caps because it raises the volume of that word. Plus, our MERGER company puts their name in ALL CAPS too...so I'm getting used to the Caps Lock key.
If anyone ever wants to experience cheesy movement....just try a MERGER. Especially as the staff of the smaller part of the merger (in essence the ACQUIRED), we are still trying to see if they are even going to let us in the maze at all or if our "new cheese" lays outside the maze completely.
If you are change averse, as I am, this book is an uncomfortable read...because, you see, only 3 out of the 4 characters survive. The two who immediately embrace change and probably saw it coming...so they just shrug and move on...and the one who eventually faces his fear and learns to find fun and adventure in searching for new cheese. The solid reliable satisfied character....yeah, you guessed it...he slowly starves in his old corner of the maze too afraid or stubborn to seek new cheese.
Because it is a simple parable meant to illustrate a point it of course doesn't get down to the brass tacks of how one might be expected to pay for the running shoes you need to chase new cheese, or the upkeep of the leaky roof on the resting hut outside the maze, but I guess that is all part of the adventure, right?
There are days, mind you, where I figure the change outside the maze can't be much more disruptive than the change going on inside...so I'll try to keep my eye on the cheese as it ...um...ripens?
I really do not want to be the skeleton found amongst the dust in the back of the maze.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Blog Roll, Please
I've never quite taken to the RSS feed or Follower function of blogging. It would certainly make my life easier rather than clicking through each link on my blog roll, to catch up on my reading via my centralized email box or follower page. But then I'd miss out on seeing people's home sites, and to sometimes surf around and read earlier posts, and maybe check out their bloggy friends too.
Lately, I've noticed my blog roll is a little light on content, considering how much surfing around to sites that I do, and that some folks who are still on my list haven't posted in like 5 months...so it's time to update my roll.
So if you are a lurker and have a blog, please be sure to let me know. I'm going to update my list and I sure would like to read what you're up to these days.
Lately, I've noticed my blog roll is a little light on content, considering how much surfing around to sites that I do, and that some folks who are still on my list haven't posted in like 5 months...so it's time to update my roll.
So if you are a lurker and have a blog, please be sure to let me know. I'm going to update my list and I sure would like to read what you're up to these days.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Conversation with Grandma
I first met my Grandma-in-law in 1989 or 1990 when I was dating Hubby. I can clearly picture her sitting at the kithen table describing how she had climbed up on the roof the day before to adjust her tv antenna. She was a spry 72 years old at the time I believe. (Note: I wouldn't climb up on my roof even then, at the ripe old age of 20!)
In the course of our conversation, she said, you're from Rochester NY right? I nodded yes. "Well," she said, "I just read about these women in Rochester protesting about how men are allowed to go topless in a city park but that women would be arrested for public ludity." (I think she was combining ludeness and nudity here).
I braced myself for a typical wise elder lecture about the morals of today's young women and the shame of my generation.
Instead Grandma said, "If I were just 10 years younger, I'd be out there with them myself." (Reminder...that would make her 62).
Grandma is not much herself anymore. Today, her spirit manifests in alternating bouts of temper, in imaginary relationships and flirting with men, in regressing to youth, and in uncensored blurting out on any topic. But the source of that roof climbing, topless wanna be soul is still there, hanging on, for dear life.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Facilitating & Communicating
I was reminded today of how I described myself and my job to a colleague several years ago. My job is facilitating and communicating, I said. What the hell is that?, was her reply. (She's such an engineer....) I'm all about skimming across the surface of everything my engineering and science brethren do and trying to connect the dots. How does this technology connect with that client issue? How does the person in this cube bring something to the team three states away? Has this project manager ever heard of this computer model we built in Saudi Arabia that might solve his problem in Tucson? Does HR know they don't need to hire someone with this skill set because we have someone not fully utilized in another group? Need someone who is fluent in Arabic to translate something - I know who they are.
Some of it is within the function of my job...some of it just comes my way by virtue of the number of meetings I attend, databases I access, research I conduct, conversations I have over lunch or dinner, or just those water cooler moments. And you know what? I like this part of my job. It's definitely the most intersting and rewarding.
There are a lot of parts of my job that I find tremendously less rewarding...and less inspiring...and I've just had several days in a row where that has been the case. On these days I get next to nothing done (shhh! don't tell payroll or they might dock me some pay). On a day like today, packed from edge to edge with meetings though, I actually accomplished alot. And I'm energized. It's sick, I know. My friends here roll their eyes and zone out at meetings, but I admit it. I'm a meeting junkie. As long as people in them are not totally painfully stupid, and as long as I don't come out with so much to do that 24 hours a day becomes a work schedule, I can always learn something and put it in my back pocket for that next facilitating/communicating moment.
Today I had a meeting with my VP and our CEO. We were kind of tossing some things around, regrouping on tasks for the next couple of months, and trying to prioritize our attention. At one point, we were talking about a service offering we are trying to get our arms around that is so big and touches so many parts of our organization and so many types of clients, that we are struggling. We have lots of talented and smart people sitting around the table on this topic once a month and not getting anywhere. It needs a leader...a service CZAR if you will. CEO and VP were stalled on what to do next and decided to postpone our next scheduled meeting as a result. Then I threw out an idea which I thought might have gotten me laughed out of the room, but it was worth saying. What, I asked, if we ask all these smart people to come to the next meeting and make a brief pitch as if it was their call on how to take this service forward, how would they do it? I know they each have a very distinct point of view based on their current roles, but let's push them to think about everything we've talked about in the last four meetings and broaden their outlook. Based on this the CZAR may just be identified by the person in the room with the best ideas and the most enthusiasm, or at the very least, maybe we'll get some ideas on how to move forward gleaned from selected ideas from each pitch. To my surprise, they seemed to like the idea.
See that? That is rewarding. Coming up with an idea that just might get us moving instead of treading water. Maybe I'll actually be able to facilitate and communicate my way up the ladder of this organization. They do say that C-students are more likely to get to the executive level than A-students....maybe that's also why they call it the C-suite! I knew my lazy grades would serve me well someday.
Some of it is within the function of my job...some of it just comes my way by virtue of the number of meetings I attend, databases I access, research I conduct, conversations I have over lunch or dinner, or just those water cooler moments. And you know what? I like this part of my job. It's definitely the most intersting and rewarding.
There are a lot of parts of my job that I find tremendously less rewarding...and less inspiring...and I've just had several days in a row where that has been the case. On these days I get next to nothing done (shhh! don't tell payroll or they might dock me some pay). On a day like today, packed from edge to edge with meetings though, I actually accomplished alot. And I'm energized. It's sick, I know. My friends here roll their eyes and zone out at meetings, but I admit it. I'm a meeting junkie. As long as people in them are not totally painfully stupid, and as long as I don't come out with so much to do that 24 hours a day becomes a work schedule, I can always learn something and put it in my back pocket for that next facilitating/communicating moment.
Today I had a meeting with my VP and our CEO. We were kind of tossing some things around, regrouping on tasks for the next couple of months, and trying to prioritize our attention. At one point, we were talking about a service offering we are trying to get our arms around that is so big and touches so many parts of our organization and so many types of clients, that we are struggling. We have lots of talented and smart people sitting around the table on this topic once a month and not getting anywhere. It needs a leader...a service CZAR if you will. CEO and VP were stalled on what to do next and decided to postpone our next scheduled meeting as a result. Then I threw out an idea which I thought might have gotten me laughed out of the room, but it was worth saying. What, I asked, if we ask all these smart people to come to the next meeting and make a brief pitch as if it was their call on how to take this service forward, how would they do it? I know they each have a very distinct point of view based on their current roles, but let's push them to think about everything we've talked about in the last four meetings and broaden their outlook. Based on this the CZAR may just be identified by the person in the room with the best ideas and the most enthusiasm, or at the very least, maybe we'll get some ideas on how to move forward gleaned from selected ideas from each pitch. To my surprise, they seemed to like the idea.
See that? That is rewarding. Coming up with an idea that just might get us moving instead of treading water. Maybe I'll actually be able to facilitate and communicate my way up the ladder of this organization. They do say that C-students are more likely to get to the executive level than A-students....maybe that's also why they call it the C-suite! I knew my lazy grades would serve me well someday.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
How (Not) To Use Social Networking
I admit it. I love blogging. Even though I often feel I have little or nothing of interest to say, it's a healthy outlet for my random thoughts. However, I hate Facebook. And since the thing I hate most about Facebook is the constant itty-bitty items on the status...I've assumed I would detest Twitter. I feel the need to at least try for a story - with a beginning, middle (hopefully a story arc) and an end. Typing, "I'm baking cookies but I'm out of eggs!" is not worth the time I took to type it and certainly not worth your time to read it. Also (and I've said this before) if one more person sent me a virtual anything (snowball, plant, cocktail, etc) I was going to lose it.
Since I'm in the communications and marketing field, I see tons of articles about how to use social networking tools like a blog, twitter, facebook, linked-in, etc. to further your company's (or your own professional) goals. So far, we've tried to make use of some of these tools...putting together a little blog on our public site from people who are working internationally (promoting our new "global" reach), another little blog about a series of workshops and its findings to share with participants and clients at large, maybe a few e-newsletters, etc. Some staff have indicated an interest in having a blog for our intranet, but since no one is stepping up to manage it or moderate it...it ain't happening. So to date, we really haven't found a way to efficiently and effectively use social networking as a tool.
Right now, social networking is much more of a distraction at work than a communications device. It seems whenever I walk the floor I find people on facebook, blogger, or playing that bejeweled game (you know who you are...) And in fact, when I'm particularly frustrated or roadblocked with something, I've been known to jump on blogger too and read a few sites, type up a quick post...none of which is helping me get out of work any earlier.
Because not everyone understands how social networking actually functions, we have had some interesting pops on our Google alerts. Just recently, a senior manager in the firm we have merged with, decided to TWEET:
{COMPANY} COI [conflict of interest] is driving me crazy.
Since it was our company name in the tweet, Google Alert picked it up and delivered it to our PR person. Scanning down the other Tweets put out by this person she discovered derogatory comments about our clients and the regulatory agency too.
Can you say clueless?
When confronted about this (which we actually had to force the issue on since the company we merged with doesn't have a social networking policy) he was rightly mortified as he thought the tweets only went out to his immediate contacts.
If there is one thing I've learned, it's that there is no real anonymity on the internet. Another reason I hated Facebook is I joined with my full, real name. I mean I was hoping to find some long lost friends, so why use some pseudo-name. But because I linked it to my gmail account that is also linked to this blog, suddenly people were friending me and saying, "Hey - you must be Wenderina..."
FREAKED ME OUT.
So people, please. When you blog, when you tweet, when you facebook, when you Link-In...know that everyone knows what you are saying. My HR department now does a full search of these sites with every resume they consider before the interview. If you've got a picture of you drunkenly peeing in the parking lot of your favorite bar...they'll see it. If you've lambasted your boss and co-workers in a blog, they'll probably find it. If your status reads, "{Company} called me for an interview - they suck but I need the job" they'll know it.
Get a clue. Or get a disclaimer.
Disclaimer:
Wenderina is a totally fictional character. She does not work for {Company} nor does she reside anywhere near Suffern NY. Any resemblance of Wenderina or her stories herein to any character, real or fictitious, is strictly coincidental. And don't sue her. She ain't worth squat.
Since I'm in the communications and marketing field, I see tons of articles about how to use social networking tools like a blog, twitter, facebook, linked-in, etc. to further your company's (or your own professional) goals. So far, we've tried to make use of some of these tools...putting together a little blog on our public site from people who are working internationally (promoting our new "global" reach), another little blog about a series of workshops and its findings to share with participants and clients at large, maybe a few e-newsletters, etc. Some staff have indicated an interest in having a blog for our intranet, but since no one is stepping up to manage it or moderate it...it ain't happening. So to date, we really haven't found a way to efficiently and effectively use social networking as a tool.
Right now, social networking is much more of a distraction at work than a communications device. It seems whenever I walk the floor I find people on facebook, blogger, or playing that bejeweled game (you know who you are...) And in fact, when I'm particularly frustrated or roadblocked with something, I've been known to jump on blogger too and read a few sites, type up a quick post...none of which is helping me get out of work any earlier.
Because not everyone understands how social networking actually functions, we have had some interesting pops on our Google alerts. Just recently, a senior manager in the firm we have merged with, decided to TWEET:
{COMPANY} COI [conflict of interest] is driving me crazy.
Since it was our company name in the tweet, Google Alert picked it up and delivered it to our PR person. Scanning down the other Tweets put out by this person she discovered derogatory comments about our clients and the regulatory agency too.
Can you say clueless?
When confronted about this (which we actually had to force the issue on since the company we merged with doesn't have a social networking policy) he was rightly mortified as he thought the tweets only went out to his immediate contacts.
If there is one thing I've learned, it's that there is no real anonymity on the internet. Another reason I hated Facebook is I joined with my full, real name. I mean I was hoping to find some long lost friends, so why use some pseudo-name. But because I linked it to my gmail account that is also linked to this blog, suddenly people were friending me and saying, "Hey - you must be Wenderina..."
FREAKED ME OUT.
So people, please. When you blog, when you tweet, when you facebook, when you Link-In...know that everyone knows what you are saying. My HR department now does a full search of these sites with every resume they consider before the interview. If you've got a picture of you drunkenly peeing in the parking lot of your favorite bar...they'll see it. If you've lambasted your boss and co-workers in a blog, they'll probably find it. If your status reads, "{Company} called me for an interview - they suck but I need the job" they'll know it.
Get a clue. Or get a disclaimer.
Disclaimer:
Wenderina is a totally fictional character. She does not work for {Company} nor does she reside anywhere near Suffern NY. Any resemblance of Wenderina or her stories herein to any character, real or fictitious, is strictly coincidental. And don't sue her. She ain't worth squat.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Existential Cubism
This morning I sat and noticed how few emails (other than those spammy sales offers) I was receiving. I worked on some other items on my list, caught up on reading Advertising Age and Communications World, reviewed my list of ABC 123 items and updated, had a meeting with colleagues, etc. All the while, my email was fairly quiet. Then, I proceeded to start emailing out some information, some requests, some notes and I noticed my email started popping like mad. For every email I sent, 3-5 came back...and suddenly it dawned on me...I am the source.
I wonder if I refrain from emailing how long it would be before my email became totally quiet. What if I only met with people in person? What if I returned emails with phone calls? What if I didn't generate any email myself? Would I become less effective? Would I fall off the radar and therefore off the career ladder? Would I be happier? or just disconnected?
Similar to that age old philosophical question, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? What about if a corporate manager works without email, does she exist at all?
I wonder if I refrain from emailing how long it would be before my email became totally quiet. What if I only met with people in person? What if I returned emails with phone calls? What if I didn't generate any email myself? Would I become less effective? Would I fall off the radar and therefore off the career ladder? Would I be happier? or just disconnected?
Similar to that age old philosophical question, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? What about if a corporate manager works without email, does she exist at all?
Friday, September 18, 2009
ABC 123
Several years ago, I took a course on time management and was taught the Franklin Covey ABC 123 tool. Essentially you must make a list each day of everything you have to do, then prioritize it as A (must), B (secondary), C (can wait... but still a to-do). Then each A, each B, and each C is given a sequence of 1, 2, 3, etc.
It's a supremely simple idea. It should work. However, the course said in order to truly make this process work you must:
It's a supremely simple idea. It should work. However, the course said in order to truly make this process work you must:
- Only answer your phone or voice mails at certain times of the day.
- Stay focused on each task and complete it, delegate it, or process it as far as you can before moving to the next item.
- Close your door and don't allow interruptions.
- Never allow someone else's A to displace yours.
Ok...now...is this, I ask you, a real-world situation? My phone is constantly ringing, my voice mail light constantly flashing and my email constantly popping. Usually it is someone higher up the food chain than me that is trying to reach me. Do you think it is really feasible to "disappear" for long periods of time?
Stay focused on one task? When was the last time your workplace, or more importantly your wandering mind allowed for this kind of single-minded thinking?
Close your door? What f-ing door? Do you not know we are all in cubicles at best and with the latest space-saving movement, many of our workplaces are reduced to desks with half-walls around them. If it weren't for ear-buds none of us would be able to focus at all!
And just so you know, everyone else's A displaces mine on a daily basis. Refer to my food chain comment above.
I particularly loved it when the instructor said, "And don't be seduced by those quick to do items that may be lower priority but are easy to complete."
Lady, I wanted to scream, if it weren't for those things I'd never be able to put a damn check mark on my freakin' list.
So for those of you who can follow ABC, 123, I envy you...and I also believe that you also have a bridge to sell me in Brooklyn.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Happy Birthday Lula!
One of my dearest friends in the universe turns 49 today.
Can I get a "Woo Hoo" for Lula?? (gorgeousness on the left)
Today she is embarking in the last year of her 40's and I'm totally in awe of her. She is a successful single lady with a real love of life and enthusiasm that just won't quit. Are you heading to a social event somewhere and you don't know anyone? Feel uncomfortable entering a room of strangers? Take Lula. Within minutes she'll know half the people in the place, be learning their life stories, and be totally engrossed in their interests. Years later, she will call you and say, "What is up with so-and-so, is she still tie-dying all her kids clothes?" You, of course, will not even know who she is talking about even though so-and-so used to be YOUR colleague.
Lula surprised us all this year when she showed up at our Cape Cod rental looking svelte and adorable and halfway to her goal weight (we didn't even know she was trying!) and looking 10 years younger than her actual calendar age. Professionally, she is kicking ass and taking names in an industry that is suffering in the recession. Personally, she is fascinated by everyone and everything...genuinely...and sucks the marrow out of life.
Recently I was listening to an episode of "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" with guest Paula Dean. Paula Dean giggled her way through the entire interview with a soft southern accent and a giddiness about life in general. She happily told the audience how she was making burgers one night and decided that the perfect roll to serve them on was not a potato roll, but a Krispy Kreme donut. As I laughed along with the interview, I wondered why I found this woman so endearing, when I suddenly realized - this was my darling Lula in chef form. Lula is someone who can tell you a story about a bat trapped in her house for 30 minutes and never bore you, in fact, you'd better be wearing your Depends, because you may honestly be peeing your pants by the time she is done.
I love her tremendously and hope she is always around to fill my half-empty glass (with vodka or whatever), keep my cynical viewpoint in check, and make me laugh at life's general foibles.
Happy B-day Lula...you're the best.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Flashback to Junior High
I love it when another blogger triggers a long forgotten memory. Today, it was Erin's post on school projects. While I have wiped my memory of much of my school days, I have to say a few moments truly stand out.
My English teacher in 9th grade required that we all do a book report on a biography. At the beginning of the term, we all had to pick a historical figure to read about. Once we had completed the book, however, she switched up the assignment. No simple book report for us, oh no. I began to tremble as my fear of public speaking asserted itself...please no oral report I prayed, please please please.
Well, my prayer was answered....sort of.
Instead of an oral report we were required to partner with someone else in the class. We would each dress AND act as the subject of our biography while our partner would act as a journalist conducting an interview. To improve upon this hideous assignment even further, it would be videotaped. I can only assume it was to be added to that mysterious "permanent file" to be pulled out and laughed at for all future generations of teachers and administrators.
I? was Mary Queen of Scots. All I remember about this assignment was putting a lace curtain on my head as part of the costume. I have blanked out the rest. But worse than my situation was another scary biography. Someone in my class had actually selected Hitler. And this someone actually found (or maybe made??? it's very fuzzy) a flag complete with swastika.
I guess in the overall scheme of things it was somewhat creative of our teacher to go this direction. It certainly meant we needed to understand our historical figures and almost literally put ourselves in their shoes...but I still classify it as cruel and unusual torture.
My English teacher in 9th grade required that we all do a book report on a biography. At the beginning of the term, we all had to pick a historical figure to read about. Once we had completed the book, however, she switched up the assignment. No simple book report for us, oh no. I began to tremble as my fear of public speaking asserted itself...please no oral report I prayed, please please please.
Well, my prayer was answered....sort of.
Instead of an oral report we were required to partner with someone else in the class. We would each dress AND act as the subject of our biography while our partner would act as a journalist conducting an interview. To improve upon this hideous assignment even further, it would be videotaped. I can only assume it was to be added to that mysterious "permanent file" to be pulled out and laughed at for all future generations of teachers and administrators.
I? was Mary Queen of Scots. All I remember about this assignment was putting a lace curtain on my head as part of the costume. I have blanked out the rest. But worse than my situation was another scary biography. Someone in my class had actually selected Hitler. And this someone actually found (or maybe made??? it's very fuzzy) a flag complete with swastika.
I guess in the overall scheme of things it was somewhat creative of our teacher to go this direction. It certainly meant we needed to understand our historical figures and almost literally put ourselves in their shoes...but I still classify it as cruel and unusual torture.
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