January 29, 2010
Are you there God, it’s me, Facebook
When I was a tweenager, excited/nervous/curious/scared about all the things that would happen when I got my period, I read Are you there God? It’s Me, Margaret. My mother claims one day, when I was eight or nine, I walked halfway down the stairs with the book clutched in my hands, spotted her and said with all the passion possible at such an age, “I love this book!” … Then promptly ran back upstairs to continue reading it.
There wasn’t much public conversation, or much in the way of place or space to speak of such things. But now … Look at this Facebook status update from a young gal I know.
Well, whom am I to say what’s right or wrong? I can only state that I observe things today to seem a bit different than when I was but a tweenage girl, cusping onto and into puberty. Personally, I can’t even imagine saying/believing/publicly claiming association with a similar perspective in those early days of my pubescence. How utterly different an environment it is for today’s teens as it was for me. Teenager-ness is still teenager-ness. But the environment is quite different, I’d say. Not better/worse/right/wrong, just different.
January 28, 2010
US Census – Ancestry by County
I think this is cool. Telling. Informative. Intriguing. It’s a visual map of ethnic ancestry in the US by county. Found this on the twitter stream of one of my favorite thinker-peoples, Gong S.
January 27, 2010
Da POTUS
Listening, with diffused awareness, to the POTUS and the #sotu. Thought I’d cycle back on some of my Obama posts in the last few years. They are, from oldest to newest –
Why Obama is such a completely different choice – 11/27/2007
my.barackobama.com – 1/14/2008
Crystal Balls and Presidential Victories -2/4/2008
A GenX / Silent Presidential Ticket – 8/23/2008
McCain wants a meeting. What a surprise. – 9/29/2008
A new day is dawning - 11/4/2008
Presidents and crystal balls – 11/5/2008
GenX Prez: GenX speech writer – 1/21/2009
Sun-ripened tomatoes in February? – 2/20/2009
Barack Spock Obama – 5/28/2009
January 18, 2010
But he’s only 29 …
I remember when I met him. The conversation. The thoughtfulness with which he spoke. The respect and interest I felt as we inched closer to knowing each other. I asked his birth year; he was born in 1981: the last, last year of the GenX generation. His name was Peter, Peter Corbett, and his business was (and still is) istrategylabs.
That was about a year and a half ago. Maybe a little more. Since then, I’ve come to know him more: a conversation here, a conversation there. Reading his blog posts and Facebook status updates. But mostly, and most significantly by watching him as someone I’ve consciously chosen to watch and follow. And let me tell you, in the social media space, there are a lot of people clamoring for attention, guru-ness and stature. But, Peter, well, he’s a leader. He’s a thinker. And he is, for me, the opposite end of my generation. I’m curious about how he sees the world.
If he’s hosting an event in DC — and he has hosted a depth and breadth of events that would astound even a professional event planner — I note it. Sometimes I attend the same event. If something has his attention, I’m curious to know why and to expand my own thinking.
Part of my curiosity comes specifically from the fact that he is almost 20 years younger than I am, yet is so capable. Who is he? What trends is he noticing? And acting upon? Where is he putting his energies? Into community events, connecting the DC social media scene with the DC (Nova) Tech Councils. TwinTech. Ugh! At first it drove me nuts to watch my precious and heartfelt social media peer events become infiltrated with the government contractors. Oh, such a different breed. I hated it. And yet I went to the events. I understood it was important. That the integration needed to happen. For both communities.
He’s organized and supported barcamps and transparency camp, public media camps and gov2.0 camps. He’s connected the DC tech and DC arts scenes with a big, intentional, let’s-get-to-know-each-other party. He’s created Apps for Democracy and has been instrumental in bringing to the fore the relevance and vision of citizen participation, geekdom-ness and governments. He’s rung the opening bell at the NY Stock Exchange, opened offices in NY and SF in the last year and has really big — as in B-I-G — clients.
And still and all, someone blasted him in a meeting for being 29. From his Facebook page (and copied with permission):
Perhaps, on a generational level, someday I’ll convince Peter he’s a GenXer with tremendous bridge capacity. As a GenXer, so he can relate to GenXers. He can bridge to Millennials, as he is one year older and is an older brother to them, so to speak. And he can bridge to Boomers because GenXers and Boomers, while they — and each — generation have their areas of friction, also have their alignments. In other words, Peter is fascinatingly positioned, to me, as someone I want to listen to because of his age.
Mind you, I’m not interested in someone because they are 29. But someone who is as Peter is and does as Peter does AND happens to be “only 29,” well, that’s someone I have on my radar. I can’t watch everything. I can’t know all the trends. But I can watch and be connected to a trend-spotter and -setter such as he is.
Next up: BIBA.
January 17, 2010
AT&T, please. stop. now.
Dear AT&T People,
I’ve been a customer for gazillions of years. Had a cel phone since when? The mid-90s? Same phone number since way back. I have an iphone now and love it, so I’m yours. But you make me want to leave every time I try to do one activity with you. When I see how you think, it makes my trust in you plummet. It makes me want to walk into your offices and speak to the Whoever-Approved-This Chief and read him/her the riot act.
Oh, it’s not, I assure you, anything you probably hear others complain about much. But, please, don’t let my Minority Report cause you to ignore it. See, my problem with your company is your thinking. Your problem solving approach. And, as a result, the system you’ve created that I’m supposed to function inside.
It’s this: Your account set-up system.
I want to have an online account. I want to be able to pay my bills. I want to see my account online, were the need/desire to arise. But every time I have to interact with your system, your How-in-the-Heck-Did-This-Ever-Get-Approved account set up screen causes me to go into a rant.
When I’m setting up an account and need to answer “security questions,” I need to make sure that what I type today will match what I’d type at some hypothetical point in the future. Right? That’s what you’re thinking, too, right? So, l-o-g-i-c-a-l-l-y, the question should be a question to which there is one right answer. Right?
So, why then do you ask me questions such as What is my favorite author? or What country would you like to visit? Or I love this one, What is the farthest you’ve traveled from home? Yeesh, is there a static answer for that? Something relevant to a security question? Have you assumed I’ve lived the life I want to live, and I’m done? No, more favorite authors to discover? Or new countries to consider visiting? Heck, perhaps such questions prompt me to take action and and actually visit a country that could change the answer to both countries I’d LIKE to visit and the farthest distance I’ve traveled.
I’m betting you’ve wasted hundreds of thousands of dollars, over time, helping customers who can’t access their accounts because they can’t remember their security questions. I’m betting it’s a hole in your system that nobody’s bothered to patch up because the thinking that created the system is probably not the thinking that can fix the system. But, that’s just a guess.
Here’s a quick tip, then I gotta get moving: Be specific. Ask questions for which there is most likely an exact and specific answer. Rather than What is the last name of your best friend from childhood? Ask What is the last name of your best friend when you were 9? Or What street did you live on when you were 12? I’m sure you can think up others. (Here’s another tip: Look at what other successful companies are doing and mimic their approach.)
Anyhoo, gotta go.
Good luck with this. I’m counting on you. Hoping you’ll show me a bit of fresh thinking and logic. Verizon is slamming you with negative advertising, and one way to keep your customers is to treat them with respect. Again, I know this is a Minority Report. Something so small as to, perhaps, seem ridiculous. But, if you think about it, well… that’s just my point: why don’t you think about it some … ?
January 7, 2010
Reading drunken letters as tea leaves
Prepare to roll your eyes. Here, let’s do it together so we can get it out of the way. Ready? 1-2-3 … roll your eyes. Ah, there that’s done. Now, on to business. I find the juxtaposition of events where the juice of life is. This plus That makes This and That much more interesting than Just This and Just That.
One area of my life where I’ve found This plus That to be curious is drunken letters. Those are the squiggly messy letters that show up when someone is commenting on a blog or posting a Facebook wall message that contains a website link. Their function is to keep computers in the hands of turds from spamming the world. And, I’m ok with them. I get their purpose and function.
I’m also, as I said, really into This plus That. So, I’ve noticed that there is often an uncanny connection between the “arbitrary” drunken letters that appear in connection with a comment I’m about to post. Check this morning’s example out. I wrote a letter to Martin O’Malley yesterday. Wanted to get it in front him. Knew he was on Facebook. Friended him. “He” accepted my friendship. And now I can send him a message inside of Facebook. I did that a few minutes ago and look what showed up as my drunken letters.
Examination. Blame.
Haha. Given the letter I wrote, this is delightfully awesome to me. I read drunken letters as tea leaves sometimes. And more than once, given the drunken letters that popped up on a comment I wrote, I’ve chosen not to post it. Can’t think of an example at the moment, but it’s happened.
So, not everyone reads tea leaves. Desires to. Or can. But this is a bit of how my mind works: always looking for the confluence and co-incidences of life to see the additional layers of meaning that I believe are present in every moment of every precious second of Life here on this lovely planet.
January 6, 2010
Martin, I need to have a word with you.
Hey, Martin. Mr. Mayor. Whatever. Um, hey, look, I know you’ve got a lot going on, and it may not be the best time to talk about this. You’ve got a whole state to govern, and “the economy thing” must suck. That, and you’ve got a family, a life tolive and all that. I still do want to talk to you about something really important and really easy to overlook.
See, I needed to call a state-run phone number for something earlier today. I have a deadline. I have to call within the next couple of days. So, I called. About 35-40 times. Got a busy signal. Not a “welcome to the queue, your hold time will be approximately X minutes,” but a busy signal. I haven’t heard those things in awhile. Voice mail and call center systems, well, heck, they’ve been around for ages. I guess I’ve just gotten used to them.
So, anyway, I called about 35-40 times. I did get through one time. Pushed a whole bunch of buttons to navigate the system; heard a recording say, “all lines are busy now …” and expected to be put into the queue. But then this incredulous — as in unbelievable thing happened. The recording went on to say, “… please call back another time.”
Suffice it to say, I’m ticked.
I’m not ticked at you, per se, Martin. I know you didn’t create the culture by yourself. I know you didn’t hire the MEDI-FUCKING-OCRE — yeah, I said, “fuck” — person in charge of the department I’m calling. You probably inherited the IT and phone system people who are in charge of shit — yeah, I said “shit” for the state government’s operations. I know you’ve got pressures to spend money on more school text books and emergency services and capital improvements and a zillion other things I don’t need to worry my pretty little head about. I get that you’ve got a lot on your plate.
But, see, the foundation and the basics of operations are critical. I’ve had to suffer through your various departments’ letters, websites and communications that are so poorly written. Not in a grammar kind of way. Nah, my issue is regarding the comprehension and the care with which the letters and materials are written. They suck. I have yet to encounter a document that was written by a human for a human. They seem to be written by bureaucrats for citizens. And, let me tell a little trick you can pass on to those over-paid, been-on-your-payroll-way-too-long folk, what makes written communication effective is to write as a person to a person. (It kind of mimics the natural human programming we have, if you give it a sec and think about it.)
But, I digress.
I’m asking that perhaps you find a few minutes in your day to have a talk with some folk and tell them to get their stuff in order with the phone systems and communications. I’ll give you lots of berth to make mistakes, stumble a bit, not be perfect. I get that being perfect is, well, it’s tough, especially when a zillion people have their own definitions of “perfection.” But, when I’m disrespected. When I have to waste my time because your systems suck. When I have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to decipher a simple one page letter. When I have to take time out of my day to tell you about the systems YOU’RE governing, well, dude, my patience is running a bit thin.
All-righty. Well, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. Hoping you can tend to this one little detail upon which the concept of service to your constituents relies. Fer realz. It’d be cool to actually call a phone number and get someone to pick up the phone.
January 2, 2010
Cold turkey.
As much as I’m not a practitioner of new year’s resolutions, I can understand them. And, I’m betting, a ton of folk have added to their list of resolutions for 2010, “Quit Smoking.”
I’d like to tell my story about how I quit smoking.
I smoked since I was a teenager. Always was a chipper (learned that term from Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Tipping Point). Kept my cigarette consumption to about five or fewer a day, except when I partied and hung out with other smokers, which, actually, was quite often. I could smoke a half pack or pack in an evening then.
But for the most part, I was a chipper. Had a cigarette here and there. In the car while driving. Gosh, come to think of it, I even smoked IN my office and in front of clients. Yeesh. I must be old to remember those days.
Then I met my husband. Well, he’s my ex-husband now. But for awhile he was my boyfriend, then husband. He was Israeli, handsome as all get-out and smoked like a maniac … I mean, he smoked like a Mediterranean man. (Tobacco smelled good on him!) Even our first conversation was over coffee and cigarettes. … It was beautiful. We were in the mountains of West Virginia and were both at the same retreat center for different reasons. He invited me to join him in the sun for a cup of coffee. And there we drank hot coffee and smoked cigarette after cigarette, talking, getting to know each other.
As our relationship developed and time together increased, I became A Bonafide Bigtime Smoker. At least in my book. I was smoking about a pack a day. My own boundaries of smoking shifted. I smoked in the morning. In the bedroom. Places I’d never smoked before.
And, while this is a story with many more chapters, I’ll cut to the part where our relationship ended. Because when it ended, I found myself without a home, with but two suitcases of clothes (that I didn’t even like) and with not only not a penny to my name, but some pretty hardcore debt that while shared in its creation was mine in name. I was depleted. Exhausted. Lost. Confused.
Plus, I was now A Bonafide Bigtime Smoker
At first, I kept smoking. A little less than before, as I didn’t have all the lifestyle/habit/situation elements that triggered smoking. But I was still puff-puff-puffing.
I started to notice that without all the lifestyle elements triggering my desire to smoke, i.e. prior activities with and around my soon-to-be-ex-husband, I was developing an awareness of my interior experience of when I wanted a cigarette. I noticed a sudden urge to smoke when I felt sad. Or vulnerable. Or hopeless. I especially noticed the desire to smoke when I felt mad (which, I’m betting, is some twisted version of feeling sad and vulnerable with a few other things thrown into the mix for good measure).
I thought, “My, isn’t that a curious thing? It’s as though my body chemistry is placating itself with the cigarettes and resulting physical experience.” I watched with fascination as my desire moved up and down with my emotions. And I then started to understand what, for me, was one of the most important elements in how I came to quit smoking: I realized that cigarettes were my dear friends when my emotions were leaning toward darkness.
And, inside that understanding, I was able to explore my own life and decide who I wanted to be. I knew I was in transition. I knew I’d been through the ringer. I knew I had choices to make (didn’t know which ones yet, but that something had to be different if I were to find myself again). I knew I wanted vitality and joy.
I honored and respected each cigarette I’d smoked over the years as a friend. As one who’d kept me company and been by my side. As one who’d sit with my dark emotions and not run away. As one who’d shared good times and lots of laughter with friends. As one who’d kept me company while I worked late into the night. And I loved each and every one of them for who they had been to me. I had no judgment of them. Or me. Equally, I knew I wanted something different. And as countless people have done before me, and countless others may do after me, I made a choice to leave old friends behind and to seek a new path and way of being in the world.
My smoking decelerated quickly. And then I met Eric.
Eric was hot. As in, crazy hot. We met, both dressed as Vikings as part of Fourth of July parade. He with his He-man bigness, bald head, Viking hat, bare chest and leather vest (oh and sunglasses, shorts and tennis shoes). Me in some I-threw-it-together Girl Viking outfit plus my Uggs and mud slathered on my face and body for effect. He looked at me. I looked at him. And I knew this man wanted to have sex with me. And I was happy about it.
Thing is, Eric didn’t smoke cigarettes. He was a two-pack-a-day guy many years back and even had ashtrays around his place to accommodate his friends who smoked. But when I met him, he didn’t smoke. And I wanted to be intimate — very intimate — with this man.
That was the trigger for me. The final push. I quit within 36 hours of meeting him. And other than the one cigarette I smoked the first time I ever drank Red Bull and somehow managed to put down six — count ‘em — six drinks in one night before telling my friends I needed to take a nap (in a public bar, no less!), I haven’t had a cigarette since.
Sometimes I feel the urge. It comes on me strong and intense when it does. Just a few days ago I was wishing I was a smoker so I could quell the emotion I was feeling. I probably made myself a nice big bowl of popcorn instead. (I use extremely high-quality olive oil and some really crappy-quality Parmesan cheese when I make my popcorn; then I enjoy it for what it is: a festival of stuffing my face with something crunchy and a hopefully less horrible than transfat-laced snacks.)
But, overall, I have to say: I loved smoking and being a smoker. I absolutely loved quitting and the process I went through and experience I had. And I am delighted beyond measure that I don’t smoke now … and don’t see any reason why I would again. (Although I do consume a heck of a lot more sugar and popcorn these days.)
The long and the short of it: once I decided that being A Non-smoker was a higher desire than being A Smoker, the process of quitting was 1,000 times easier. Every time the desire to smoke rose up, I checked in to my decision and looked at that desire and how it aligned, or didn’t align, with my own internal preference to be A Non-smoker.
It was remarkably easy then.
See, for as many times as I had previously had the thought, “I shouldn‘t smoke,” that had no internal weight. It carried judgment, alright. And logic. Smoking stinks. It harms my health. La-de-da. Endless list of reasons why I shouldn‘t smoke. But that did nothing to motivate me.
I had to make the decision for myself. It wasn’t about facts, or logic, or some ad campaign from an anti-smoking group. Or societal pressure to quit smoking. It was my decision. And I don’t think I could have gotten to it without recognizing first the value and importance that cigarettes had provided me. It was critical to me that I embrace them fully before I could let them go.
Well, that’s my story about how I quit smoking, cold turkey.
Rock on.
December 31, 2009
Two steps forward. One step back.
A friend asked if I would write about new year’s resolutions a guest post for her blog. I agreed. It was an unexpectedly nice opportunity to reflect and clarify my thoughts. Read on …
December 27, 2009
Anonymous said it, so it must be true
I like the juxtaposition of events and data. I like to see This and That, and to look at the relationship and dynamics between This and That. It’s the space between and the meaning of two seemingly different things that I find quite fascinating.
Tonight, I delivered, with a long-time client and dear friend, the third of six sessions on personal branding and social media for senior-level professionals. My part of the evening’s conversation included a presentation on owning one’s voice, claiming one’s identity and engaging in real conversations with and through social media.
So, imagine my delight when I found this comment (bel0w) re my blog. Tales of Two Cities, one of the more prolific and fantastic bloggers in my hometown of Columbia has an annual somewhat-farcical blogger award nomination each year. I did get the “Smoothie Queen” award. But the most interesting nomination of my blog came from none other than Anonymous him/herself. Anonymous said, about me and my blog,
Homeland Columbia, er, that may be Hometown Columbia gets the award for the most self-aggrandizing and anti-anonymous crusade by a blogger. She started off as a self proclaimed “Goddess” and actually moved upward to Universal Knows Every-stinking-thing. She holds nothing back regarding the stupid people over age 47 and ¾ as she is 47 and ½. Woman, you’re old enough to be a grandmother, for goodness sake. This blogger has all the democratic and constitutional bent and vision of a totalitarian regime wherein no opinion that varies from hers is worth voicing much less reading. As a result of her position there’s no deliberation, no dissention (by design), and no interest. Grudgingly she gets the tiniest gold star for pointing recluses to Gnarles Barkley (but that may have been 2008 anyway).
Fascinating.
Said Anonymous Person goes on to plead for new local bloggers who will post daily. And closes his/her plea with the I-swear-I-didn’t-make-this-up final statement of: “Please have your own thick skin and a backbone.” I could write a book on this person and their amazing ability to be so contradictory. Alas, I can’t contact Said Anonymous Person to do the interviews and assessments I’d so like to do.
Other than stimulating my mind and giving me even more fodder for when I speak/write/blog/act next into the realm of personal branding and social media, I do think some unintended good came out of this. See, I’ve been looking for a new tag line, and, heck, I kinda like Universal Knows Every-stinking-thing Gal.
December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas, LOL Cats.
December 24, 2009
Avatar.
“The Homeland Gen is here!” Swear it’s true. My first thought at the final moment of seeing the movie Avatar tonight was just that: The Homeland Gen is here. See, each generation finds its way with communication technologies and shapes/molds/forms/s informed by them. And the virtual world, mark my word, is the tech of the Homeland gen.
The Silent Gen (the people 67-85 in 2009) this year are the newspaper gen. They like their credential experts. They like to trust the voice of the person who is clearly trustable by virtue of their position.
Boomers (the people 49-66 in 2009), well, they like their TV. Messages. Big messages with big meanings. Ads. Drama. Story. Ruthless control of media and moral (or immoral) messages.
GenXers (the people 28-48 in 2009), they like the internet. That’s their turf that they transformed from a communication tool for sharing ideas (the World Wide Web) into a money-making machine and integral part of businesses large and small. Fast. Accessible. Chaotic and wild.
Millennials (the people 7ish-27 in 2009), they like their handheld devices. Mobile phones. iPods. Carry the tech with them. Instant. Connected to friends, peers, their generation. Able to listen, connect, communicate in an instant with their peers. As they ascend more into young adulthood and, eventually, midlife, expect to be blown away by what is possible with handheld devices (and, equally, how old-school computers get).
Homeland Gen (the little kids on the block, currently babes to about 6 or 7 in 2009), the prediction my BFF and I have: virtual world is their technology. That’s their thing, sez us. Homeland gen is the same archetype as the Silent Gen that is now dying out. A smaller generation in total number. A gen that will grow up similar, in some ways, to “Depression Era babies,” where adults were no-nonsense and hyper-over-crazy-ass-protective of their OWN kids and their tribe. Their parents are have to face a dark and difficult outer world requiring their attention to ensure survival of the family/tribe/country.
So, why virtual technology? Well, the Homeland gen won’t be traipsing off much for trips to distant lands, nor Disney Land as a matter of fact, the way the prior gen was. They won’t be “special” the way the prior gen was, and doted on for every act they take, large or small. (Loved, yes. But, “special,” no.) And they won’t be drenched in the riches of their parents’/society’s wealth because … well, it mostly spent/squandered in prior generations.
But the Homeland gen WILL be (assuming, that is, all goes according to the cycle that just keeps ticking on) a generation of children who are “expected to be obedient, to stay out of harm’s way and let adults do important work.” (Strauss & Howe) And inside of that paradigm of childhood, watch for the profound impact of the virtual world on their existence: how they are shaped by it and how they shape it with their needs.
So, back to Avatar – which I am soooo happy I saw in a movie theater as opposed to some chopped up version on TV with lots of commercials: Avatar is about, on one level, being able to move through technology into another world that — in the end — becomes more real than “real life.” This movie is a cultural marker announcing on a deep level that the Homeland gen is moving out of pre-K and into its first years in Kindergarden or first grade. That’s my guess. It’s hard when a generation is newly arrived to speak to its start date (nor is it my job or right to do so). It takes other experiences and world-forming events to begin to shape it.
The economy aside — not that it’s not important, it’s just that it’s like “yeah, yeah, ok so Society’s Winter is upon us; duh, can we get on to the problem-solving part of things now?” — anyway, I heard a week or so ago a governor of some state speaking in a radio interview. He was talking about less money being spent on education per kid than in the past two decades. Duh. That was the Millennial gen that got more-more-more, regardless of how irresponsible adults were being about spending inside a clearly unsustainable system. It’s Millennials who get government money regardless of their phase of life. It follows them. They’re a Hero gen and they smile a lot and make older people feel happy and that the world does look bright again.
But I must say, that when I heard this governor speak of declining education funds per child I knew this was ONLY possible with a Homeland/artist gen ascending into the school systems. This just wouldn’t happen with Millennials as the only generation in school. I find this stuff fascinating. Generational cycles are like clockwork. Amazing stuff, this human drama.










