Good Doesn't Move

For this category, the work is breakthrough. We are doing good work given the subject matter.

Those in the communications business have heard these words. Maybe even said them yourself. There should be no qualifier. No caveat. Good doesn’t move. Things are good or not. Period

Bleeder

I don’t like shots. I am afraid of needles and would prefer not to have one. This isn’t particularly unique, I believe. I am assuming most people don’t enjoy getting a shot. Now, I should say that when I speak of shots I am speaking of flu shots. My guess is that as shots go the flu shot is the little brother of the shot family. And it’s not the pain of the shot, but the build-up in my mind.
I went in for my yearly flu shot and my ritual was the same: take off the shirt, turn my head and grip the chair.

This is what followed:

Nurse: Slight pinch.
Me: (tighter grip)
Me: (felt slight pinch) (I should say here that I was surprised that she put the needle in the center of my shoulder. Typically I receive the shot in the back of my arm.)
Nurse: Yep, you’re a bleeder.
Me: Pardon?
Nurse: You’re bleeding.
Me: (nervous laugh) rr…really?
Nurse: Holy crap! You are really bleeding.
Me: (Now, at this point I thinking, ‘this is ridiculous, how much can I possibly be bleeding? And despite her judgmental tone, this really isn’t my fault. I’m just a guy trying his best to avoid the flu. I’ve never bled before from a flu shot; and frankly, I don’t appreciate the label “bleeder.” I am more than someone who bleeds from flu shot. Is this where we are in doctors’ offices? Calling people “bleeders?” It’s a little 4th grade.’)
Nurse: I will clean you up.
Me: Um, thank you… (It did occur to me that in this circumstance I think she would be the one responsible for my clean up – just for the record.)
Nurse: (placed band-aid on arm, placed shoulder in harness and sling and sent me on my way.)
Me: Um, thank you.

The Dishwasher Speaks

What I find fascinating are the little, everyday talents that many possess. Some people are excellent parallel parkers. While I am the “cook” of the family, my wife makes great eggs. Some people can pull a parking ticket from a garage without coming to a complete stop. My everyday talent is packing dishes into the dishwasher. It’s my version of the NYT crossword puzzle. I enjoy doing it and receive much from the experience.
In fact, I believe there are many life lessons to be learned at the mouth of a dishwasher. Here are three I have received over the years:
Big things first. This one is crucial. To maximize the space in the dishwasher the largest items must be placed first. No way around it. Sure, sometimes I want to keep my favorite mug in its spot, but I can’t. Getting the big things out of the way allows for a clearer picture and subsequent plan to accomplish the goal.
Sweat the Small Things. Concentrating first on the big things isn’t a slap to the smaller things. More of life is lived in and with the smaller things. When it comes to packing a dishwasher you have to focus on the smaller items and work and re-work until they find their niche.
Fear. It’s been said that fear shouldn’t be a motivator. It depends. Making decisions out of fear typically leads to mediocrity. But, the fear of failure is healthy. I have a healthy fear of washing dishes by hand. And I will stay with it until I get everything in its place.

Manager's Trot

I’m not sure how it started. You’ve seen it many times. A baseball manager calls timeout, ascends the steps in the dugout and then makes his way to the pitcher’s mound or home plate or somewhere. Calling it a run is the better part of generous. A run it isn’t. But, in fairness, it isn’t a walk either. The arms are bent and move in a cow-milking manner with vigor and the shoulders are engaged in a Larry King sort of way. There is a slight bounce. But there isn’t any speed. Usually a sunflower seed falls out of the guy’s mouth. And I think one foot is on the ground at all times. I guess the beauty is the manager really isn’t hustling, but he looks like he is. He gives the appearance that he has a sense of purpose and, after all, baseball is a sport. It stands to reason that running (or fake running) would be the main mode of transportation among players and coaches.

I find myself employing the manager’s trot from time to time. I usually break it out in a crosswalk. A motorist has given me the “hurry up, Jack” wave and out of courtesy I pick up the pace – sort of. I would feel awkward continuing to walk at my leisurely clip, but I don’t feel like sprinting. And if I ran I would probably pull a hammy. So I do want any rational person would, I pretend like I’m running. I’m basically saying, “Hey, thanks for not hitting me with your car. And as a thank you, I will pass by your vehicle 1 second faster than I normally would. This, my friend, is the least I can do. Have a good day.”

Thanks?

Heather and I ate dinner at an authentic Mexican restaurant north of Pittsburgh the other night. We hadn’t been there is a while and once we started eating we wondered why. Excellent food. As our time there was about to end, a person of importance approached us. He appeared to be an owner or manger or maybe someone who wanted to be. Not sure. Anyway, he came to our table, looked deep into my eyes and asked if everything was okay. I assured him it was with a knowing nod and the following statement: yes. He then stepped toward me, as if to leave, and gently placed his left hand on the left side of my chest, held it for a beat and withdrew it. It wasn’t actually a slap. And it wouldn’t be fair to call it a rub. It was just… odd. My eyes then met Heather’s and we smiled and she said, “Friendly place.” Indeed.

Height Fluctuation

Height consistency is not something I strive for in life, but it tends to happen. I’m not that tall (5’8”) but I am comfortable with my view of the world. And everyday my view is pretty much the same. I have one pair of shoes that nudges me up a little and my flip flops are pretty flat, but it’s mostly the same height day after day.

Women have a different experience, I believe. Depending on the day, or the heel, women can give you a whole different look. I am taller than many of the women in our office…some days. Other days…not so much. I have a good three inches on my wife, except at church once in awhile. Sometimes, one of my co-worker’s can look noticeably shorter. Other days, noticeably taller. I don’t comment on it either way. For over a year, I thought one female colleague was taller than I was. Then one Friday she wore those ballerina-slipper shoes. Turns out it was the shoes.

Going Left

I often think about getting back to playing some serious tennis. I played competitively in high school and now hit here and there, but watching Rodger win his 15th at Wimbledon a few weeks back gave me some inspiration. I think the nearly 20-year layoff will have taken something off of my game, but I believe I would be mentally tougher, if not wiser.

Then I think that it would be interesting to start playing lefty, as my dominate hand (and arm) is right. The logic is that I would have the knowledge of the game, how to strike the ball and most importantly what my right-handed flaws are providing a platform to create a better version of me. A lefty version. This time I reason, I would be unencumbered by old, bad habits and the inertia of doing it the way I always have. I’m sure it would be comical to start. Muscle memory has that affect on us. But, with courage and tenacity I think I could get pretty good and someday revel in a slice serve to the ad court against a righty opponent.

I don’t know if I will actually do this, although the thought intrigues me quite a bit. In actuality I am doing this now as this is what is happening in our business of communications. We are playing with the opposite hand. We are not starting over. No, connecting with consumers is still the game and much of the knowledge that we have still fits. But now, we have the opportunity to create a better version of what we do. We are learning and need to continue to learn new and better ways to create conversations with consumers, create meaningful dialogue and create a differentiated place in their hearts for our clients. Yes, it takes tenacity and courage but the payoff will be well worth it.