Jon Ekstrom

Rooster & Moon Tribute

September 22, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

Deft Communications pays tribute to Rooster & Moon in Denver, closing its doors on September 30, 2016.

It’s September 22 as I type this at the bar of Rooster & Moon Coffee Pub. Eight days from now, Rooster & Moon will close its doors and say goodbye to the community. I’ve written and podcasted about my love for this place before – notably here, here, and here, – so it’s with a heavy heart that I write this.

I just finished eating a Wrigley salad, my favorite item at Rooster & Moon, and one of my absolute favorite things to eat in Denver. It’s so good it’s unfair. I’m not sure what it is about the elements of this thing – mixed greens, candied walnuts, Craisins, feta cheese, grilled chicken, and an unbelievably silky and subtly sweet house made Strawberry Avocado Vinaigrette – that hit me right in the perfect spot, but it does. I would eat this for lunch literally everyday if my schedule permitted it. Remarkably, I didn’t think it could possibly taste any better, but then one of the baristas suggested I put Rooster & Moon’s Honey Jalapeno Vinaigrette on it, so I did. And then my face melted clean off. I’ve literally never tasted better dressings.

I share this, and I put it right up front, because I want to make explicit just what high quality product Rooster & Moon churns out. When I say I love Rooster & Moon, it’s not out of some misplaced sentimentality, or limp hagiography of a friend’s endeavor that just couldn’t hack it. I like to support my friend’s businesses, but Rooster & Moon objectively makes incredible products with delightful service. This place, whether I ordered anything off the lunch menu from my beloved Wrigley to any of a dozen sandwiches or a multitude of breakfast items, loose leaf hot tea, or a simple can of beer, served it to me with intent, care, style and quality. I will miss its craftsmanship.

But that’s not what makes me saddest. The attributes I ascribe to Rooster & Moon could have been modified slightly and applied to the Wok & Roll that used to be across the street from my old office, which I wrote about here. The reason my soul aches for Rooster & Moon is because of what it means in terms of my personal history of launching my own business.

April 7, 2015, 1 pm, some empty office inside a 25-story filing cabinet, me, the Vice President I report up to, and some HR lady I’ve never met – “As you know, the company has experienced some financial difficulties, and your position is no longer available.”

Tremendous. I take the severance package, turn in my badge and company credit card, and go home. I expected this, and although the physical experience of living through it is sort of surreal, I’m ready for it.

That’s all well and good, but what do I do now? I mean, I know I’ve got to start my consulting business in earnest, but that’s more a philosophical paradigm shift, than anything else, isn’t it? No one has equipped me to begin to tackle that monumental task from a practical standpoint. Where do I go? How do I structure my day? I’ve lived with the same-ish routine for four-and-a-half years now, and seriously, what the fuck do I do now?

Since I got laid off on a Tuesday, Wednesday I woke up lost and in a bit of a daze. I had already pre-loaded the press release and media list for my new company, so after firing that off, I suddenly had no real work to do. And now that I’m sitting here writing this, I’m struggling to remember those first few days. I don’t know what happened on Thursday. I don’t know what I did on Friday. I’m not even sure the precise moment the memories begin. I know I took a month off from the podcast. And I know within a month of getting laid off, I had signed two clients, and begun work in inking a third. But that first week, I have no idea what happened.

Here’s what I do remember. I needed to get some work done. And I needed to do it outside the house. Kristin had successfully navigated this untethered, Bohemian self-employment maze for years, and I was ready to try. Admittedly, and this feels kind of silly to admit now, I was scared about taking myself out to a coffee shop and plopping down to bang out to-dos. I mean, who the hell did I think I was? It felt very conspicuous not being inside an office in the middle of the day. I was suddenly tasking myself with working in a place where maybe others were working, maybe they were drinking, maybe they were just reading a novel in the middle of the day. And here I was figuring how to be one of them. Despite my trepidation, off I went, my little bag over my shoulder ready to be my best consultant self!

So, in I walk to Rooster & Moon. A familiar voice greets me – “Jon Eks! How are you, young man?” Despite not being more than 5 years older than me, Bird has always called me “young man” when he asks how I’m doing, which is impossibly charming for reasons that escape me. Immediately I feel better about deciding to work out of the house.

Then I look across the bar, and another familiar face awaits me. Brandi Shigley makes eye contact with me, and offers a friendly wave. I order my drink, walk over to her, give her a big hug as she’s just back from The Philippines, and invite her on my show again. I tell her I’m out of corporate and she enthusiastically congratulates me. I’m officially welcomed into the fraternity of the Day People.

I can recall this sequence with stunning clarity, and whenever I do, a whole wave of emotions rushes over me. Excitement about my unknown future. Fear that I’m total fucking fraud and I’m going to fall on my face and go crawling back to the slow, comfortable suicide of Corporate America. Resolve and determination to ensure that doesn’t happen. When I dwell in this memory too long, it overwhelms me and my heart swells until I think I’m either going to levitate right into the fucking sky or just explode on the spot.

When I think back on my early days of Deft Communications, my memories are linked inextricably with Rooster & Moon. I banged out proposals to clients. I wrote my first blog posts. I got comfortable with the new rhythms of self-employment. I ate Wrigley after Wrigley after Wrigley. I poured gallons of iced tea into my face. I got a $50 parking ticket from some parasite meter maid, which, of course, sucked, but it was also a stark reminder that I’m on my own now, and working for yourself means staying on top your game at all times.

And now that Rooster & Moon will no longer occupy a physical space in my world, its place in my memory becomes that much more important. I don’t want to forget those feelings of walking through the door the first time as an entrepreneur because the intensity of those memories help to motivate me whenever I revisit them. And whereas I could always mainline a bit of that feeling by walking through these doors again, no longer is that possible, and then I get sad all over.

So that’s why I write this. It’s important to remember the people and the places that have touched you, that have moved you, and that have propelled you to better yourself. The folks who work at Rooster & Moon (or whatever place you find yourself getting shit done) probably don’t know what they mean to you. They almost certainly don’t know that they help power the engine of American small business simply by providing you the fuel you need, working in the space where you become productive, and slinging vibe that puts a smile on your face day after day after day.

Thank you, Rooster & Moon. Thank you to everyone who’s ever brought me a salad, an iced tea, a bowl of yogurt, or a Dale’s Pale Ale. And a special thanks to Bird who was there more days than he wasn’t, introducing me to whoever was sitting next to me, telling me some esoteric story about a band he loves, and creating a place I always considered a 2^nd home office where I’ve worked (and continued to work) to become the best professional version of myself possible.

You will always occupy a special space in my heart, and a vital space in my memories. I will miss sitting at your bar, and although you no longer exist in physical space, I am grateful I will be able to visit you inside a cherished place in my mind forever.

Godspeed.

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“I Just Came Here to Read the Comments”

June 27, 2016 by Jon 2 Comments

“Am I the only person here who loves to watch a couple together that hates each other’s guts?” begins a Dane Cook bit from his album Retaliation. Entitled “The Nothing Fight,” Cook shares a (probably fictional) anecdote about a couple he overhears in the grocery store arguing about something completely inconsequential and how he spies on them with voyeuristic glee from around the Entenmann’s display at the end of the aisle.

Although listening to it again, I don’t think it’s aged well. I found it uproarious upon its release and part of its relatability has to do with the familiarity of past failed relationships and remaining with someone you actively disliked as you continuously fought about any number of irrelevant things. The other part, the more interesting part, is Cook’s ghoulish schadenfreude delight at this couple having it out in a very public way. To whatever extent, most people take some guilty joy in gawking at a public altercation.

You used to have to leave your house to encounter something like this. With social media, it’s easier than ever, which brings me to this meme:

You’ve probably seen this in the thread of a Facebook friend who’s posted something controversial, political, or otherwise of public concern. And given your friend list, you probably know which of your friends tend to bring their flamethrowers to conversations, and it’s not unexpected, or even necessarily wrong, to take some pleasure in seeing how they’ll react this time. I understand this.

But flatly declaring your rubbernecking intent via this meme and that “I just came here to read the comments” is just plain gross.

I believe one of the most powerful ways we evolve and grow as people is by spending time with those whom we don’t always agree, and having civil conversations about the issues of the day.

I flew to Philadelphia recently with my friend Adam, and we ended up spending the whole flight talking about politics, policy, religion and whatever else came up. We came at the issues from slightly different angles, and while I didn’t necessarily change any of my opinions, I evolved them in a meaningful way as a result of involved discussion. I know I left the conversation feeling much stronger in my knowledge about the subject at hand, and by virtue of having listened to my friend without any preconceived agenda of the net result of that conversation, I ended up with a deeper sense of empathy.

For the record, one thing I will never concede to him is his ludicrous assertion while flying over the Delaware River that seeing it rendered George Washington’s crossing of it unremarkable since “that’s not that big, really.” GO BACK TO ENGLAND, YOU TURNCOAT! USA! USA! USA!

I recognize that a long, engaged conversation with someone you like and have liked and respected for more than a decade is different than sparring with a quasi-stranger on Facebook… but imagine if we treated the two interactions the same way. Imagine seeing something on Facebook, and instead of loading up with your best ammunition and firing at will, you instead sought greater understanding. That by understanding them better – no matter how unfathomably wrong you initially perceive them to be – you listen and you dig in, and by virtue of that effort, you actually understand yourself better.

I also recognize that some people are just wired to be jerks, and this utopian dithering I’m peddling isn’t universally practical. But I wholly believe elevating the discourse is. And for my money, the best way to start is getting these prurient bridge trolls who live to watch strangers combat each other to piss off.

Just to summarize the intent of these meme-posting jackals: Not only are you not here to contribute anything meaningful, you’re wishing for the absolute worst of the bottom-feeders to hurl Molotov cocktails at each other for your personal amusement. And you’re fully okay with declaring your intent as a grotesque sideshow patron. Swell.

Were you one of the kids who egged on the two school bullies to kick each other’s asses and get suspended while you cried innocence in the aftermath ignoring your culpability in making the environment more incendiary? Were you in Michael Vick’s backyard, too? Were you there with Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer in the back of Marcelino’s bodega at 3 in the morning to watch Little Jerry fight another rooster to try and get Jerry’s bounced clown check removed from the front counter? Did you buy one of those abhorrent Bum Fights videos?

You are the curiosity delay on the highway when there’s an accident going the other way that screws up everyone’s commute to work. You are the reason we have TMZ. You are “The Fappening.” You are the Huffington Post’s idiotic policy of covering Donald Trump’s presidential campaign as “entertainment,” and look where we are now on that front.

In short, you are the worst. Stop posting this.

Better yet, meme or no, stop doing this.

Pride in Energy

June 15, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

Kristin and I are allies. We fully support equal rights across the board for members of the LGBTQ community. We’re proud of this fact, and are happy to announce it publicly.

Our hearts go out to everyone affected by the tragedy in Orlando. Without injecting any unneeded politicality into this post, our sincere hope is that out of this horrific incident a better, more caring, and more conscientious culture emerges. We don’t know exactly how that would manifest, but our hope is that we never see an incident like this ever again, and that we take the steps toward that goal.

One of the best things to do, in our estimation, is to seek connectivity where it may not have existed before. With that in mind, I was proud to attend an event last night called Pride in Energy, co-hosted by the Colorado Petroleum Council (the Colorado outpost of the American Petroleum Institute) and One Colorado.

The Colorado Petroleum Council and One Colorado co-hosted Pride in Energy on April 14, 2016 in Denver discussing LGBTQ rights and the oil and gas industry.

That’s an aggressively crappy picture of the screen from the event, but I didn’t want to disturb the panel of speakers who told their stories of being in the LGBTQ community (or being an LGBTQ ally) while working in oil and gas. What was so striking about their stories was that to some extent they all experienced the fear of revealing their true selves to their colleagues in an industry that stereotypically values toughness, traditional notions of masculinity, and leans very conservative. Much to their surprise, what they encountered (more often than not) was not anger or disgust, but welcoming and happiness that their colleague whom they liked, felt comfortable enough to fully be themselves. Their coming out stories were inspirational for how – and I don’t want to seem like I’m downplaying the courage it took to do this or the personal significance of the reveal because I’m very much not – pedestrian they were.

Unless you’re a truly and fully narrow-minded, bigoted, and ideologically entrenched psycho (and some do exist), finding out that your friend and colleague is gay (or bisexual or transgendered) shouldn’t be a big deal. In an ideal world, all coming out stories will end with the person receiving the news being nonplussed by it. That would mean we’ve achieved equality and that sexual orientation is no longer A THING. It’s just a thing.

The panel at Pride Energy, co-hosted by the Colorado Petroleum Council and One Colorado on June 14, 2016. — The panel at Pride in Energy, co-hosted by the Colorado Petroleum Council and One Colorado on June 14, 2016.

I’m thrilled that the folks onstage in the photo above are willing to push us in that direction in a space that hasn’t seen much of this type of thing historically. To create real change, it almost always starts with a brave few before you can build critical mass. Those folks above are the brave few, and I’m just happy to play a small role in helping to build critical mass.

As the panel concluded, a question was asked about the future of both LGBTQ rights and the oil and gas industry. I’ll offer my response. Oil and gas issues are almost associated with Republicans. LGBTQ rights issues are almost always associated with Democrats. It’s convenient to think of the world in binary terms. I hate binary. I like complexity. I like creativity. I like unpredictability.

LGBTQ rights and the continued responsible production of American oil and natural gas are two issues that don’t often intersect for us, but are two issues we care deeply about. It’s a thrill to see them come together last night, and I applaud both the Colorado Petroleum Council and One Colorado for making that connection happen through Pride in Energy.

Here’s hoping for more creative connections going forward. For blowing up boring binaries. For increased understanding from people on both sides of any issue. And for the courage to continue pushing our culture forward in new, interesting, and beneficial ways.

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In Praise of Denver Water

May 5, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

As a resident of Denver’s Park Hill neighborhood, I’ve seen Denver Water crews in my neighborhood the last couple of summers. I’m generally pretty engaged in my community, but never bothered to look into what they were actually doing since their activity never made its way to my street. Not until now, anyway.

And in truth, I never had to. Denver Water beat me to the punch.

As I was out mowing my lawn a couple of weeks ago, I saw a man dressed in standard white collar working attire (dress shirt tucked into khaki chinos) walking up my street knocking on doors and placing a manilla envelope on each doorstep. Since we’re gearing up for campaign season, I figured he was handing out literature for one of the 3,000 ballot measures (approximate) we’ll be voting on in Colorado come November.

I turned off my lawnmower and he introduced himself as a representative from Denver Water. He asked me if I had received their initial letter talking about the project they’re working on this year (I had), and if I had any questions about it (I didn’t). He then gave me an envelope, gave me a brief rundown of what’s happening, told me his business card was inside, and encouraged me to contact him with any questions or concerns. Terrific!

So what’s Denver Water up to?

Between the end of April and the end of August, Denver Water will (taken entirely from the material they gave me in the envelope):

Clean and re-line the water main under your street as part of a project called pipe rehabilitation. Crews will drain water mains, clean them by removing mineral buildup from the past 100-plus years, and then line the mains with a specialized mortar to extend their lifespan by decades. See step-by-step photos of the pipe rehabilitation project at http://denverwater.org/PipeRehab.
Replace lead water service lines in the project area.

Given that lead water pipes have been in the news recently (and especially due to what appears to be a dereliction of duty from certain municipalities), it’s good to see this is and has been a priority for Denver Water.

The ensuing five pages included in this material discuss what they plan to do, how they’ll do it, how we’ll be impacted, how to manage those impacts, and, again and again, how to get in touch with them should we need to for any reason.

It’s not often as a PR practitioner I encounter proactive, transparent, and repeated outreach on a project of civic importance that affects me directly such as this. And it’s even less frequent that the agency conducting a project with this type of impact receives any praise for their efforts whatsoever.

And that’s why I’m happy to offer a sincere thank you to Denver Water for their efforts to make sure me and my neighbors are well-informed about improvements made to our water and working to ensure the impacts during those improvements are as painless as possible. Here’s to hoping the project goes as well as the outreach!

Deft Communications Announces Two New Additions to its Client Roster

April 8, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

deftcomm

DENVER (April 7, 2016) – Deft Communications, Denver-based communications consulting firm specializing in communications training, content creation, employee engagement and employee activation is proud to announce two new clients in information management and oil and gas.

“We are pleased to help these tremendous organizations achieve their business and communications goals,” said Deft Communications Principal Jon Ekstrom.

Access, the largest privately held records and information management services provider in the United States, has retained Deft Communications to provide communications coaching for members of its leadership team.

Western Energy Alliance, a trade association serving as the voice of the Western oil and natural gas industry focused on federal legislative, regulatory, environmental, public lands and other policy issues, has engaged Deft Communications to provide audio production services and promotional support in its media outreach.

About Deft Communications: Deft Communications is a Denver-based communications counseling firm specializing in communications training, content creation, employee engagement and employee activation. We call ourselves “Deft” because it guides our approach to every client we work with, and each project we do. Any communications project your business undertakes should be in service of helping to achieve your business goals. Being “Deft” means understanding those goals, and tailoring our approach to stay nimble in a constantly evolving environment, being resourceful, and maintaining a sureness of touch. We are savvy communicators with more than two decades’ experience in a variety of disciplines and across communications platforms.

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The Sanders Campaign: A Study in Crowd-Sourced Media Tactics

April 7, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

This photo is from Philly.com - here: http://media.philly.com/images/BernieSanders3.jpg

More than any candidate for elected office I can remember, and certainly since I’ve been on social media, Senator Bernie Sanders has dominated the discussion of many in my social circle. It’s been remarkable seeing many I’ve never seen politically engaged before, take part in our democratic process. He’s awakened political interest in many, and for that he should be applauded.

Having noted that, some of the narrative surrounding Senator Sanders irks me. In the interest of full disclosure, I don’t count myself among those who #FeeltheBern. I think a voice like that of Senator Sanders is crucial to our future as a country, and reflects a substantial constituency that, historically, has either been marginalized or out and out ignored. His views are an important contribution to the multitude of views of how to make this country the best it possibly can be.

However, no matter how noble his character, I don’t believe Senator Sanders’s approach to governance is the best path forward for America. The reason comes down to a fundamental question of government: How effective do you believe the government is as a provider of goods and services? The guiding principles of how Senator Sanders plans to govern necessitate a prohibitive (for me) amount of faith in the government to be an effective provider of those things that allow for our way of life. Senator Sanders, by declaration of his own platform, wishes to centralize many of the services utilized by Americans under the umbrella of federal bureaucracy.

Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not some wingnut Libertarian who thinks we need to eliminate virtually all government and privatize everything down to things like fire departments and highway construction. But having worked tangentially with government agencies and directly on issues of public policy for basically a decade, I am uncomfortable with the degree to which Senator Sanders desires to centralize our economy and redistribute wealth. Some government is good. The amount of government Senator Sanders aspires to create were he to be elected President of the United States is excessive, in my opinion.

The above paragraphs are here simply to provide illustration of where I stand on Senator Sanders as a political candidate. I include them to ensure what comes next are not viewed as some opportunistic attack on him or some backdoor endorsement of either Secretary Clinton or one of the Republican candidates. I wish to provide neither. I am, however, fine with asserting on record that I find everything about Donald Trump abhorrent.

Further important context: I like Bernie Sanders the person. He seems sincere in the issues for which he advocates, and the longevity and consistency of his advocacy of those issues is remarkable. In terms of his core beliefs, Bernie Sanders seems to have been true to them for as long as he has held elected office. That’s rare among career politicians, and is worthy of acclaim, regardless of whether or not you agree with him. A man of such startling conviction on the issues he’s advocated for – which notably includes his being on the right side of history in terms of gender equality, racial and social justice, LGBT rights, and the overwhelming majority of issues pertaining to the ethical treatment of our fellow humans – is a man worthy of esteem. We should aim to the same level of humanistic empathy Bernie Sanders has embodied and espoused his entire political career.

But, and that’s where this essay takes a turn, that doesn’t mean he’s immune to calculated political posturing, either. This is a man who has successfully held elected office for more than 35 years, and it’s insane to believe he doesn’t have a keen understanding of how the campaign game is played. And we finally arrive to the place in the essay where I talk about the things that annoy me about Bernie Sanders, of which there are two that really stand out. These opinions are based on my professional experience and relevant work in the public sphere. The purpose of this essay is to provide context and insight that I haven’t otherwise seen anywhere else. So, here we go…

The #Humblebrag of Bernie Sanders flying middle seat coach

By now, you’ve all seen this photo, or one like it:

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At first blush, it’s totally charming. Hey, look at that! Man of the people! Sitting there in the crappy middle seat just like the rest of us! That’s a guy who gets it. That’s a guy who doesn’t put himself above the electorate. That’s who I want in a president!

But the more I thought about it, the more it annoyed me. Why the hell would Senator Bernie Sanders, a man running for the most important elected office in (probably) the entire world, and a man who is on the road an unholy amount of time, subject himself to the irritations of common air travel? I have two theories, but first a quick digression.

When I worked in my corporate job, I was on the road probably 25% of the time on average. One week a month I had a take a trip by plane. When you’re on the road even that much, you become intimately familiar with the indignities and hassles of air travel. Traveling one week a month (or about 30 flights a year), afforded me certain perks that made the experience notably less terrible. Early check-ins, priority boarding, less rigorous security screenings, and seat upgrades were among the benefits realized. Not having to experience the full headache-inducing rigmarole of the air travel jamboree helped me do my job better, which brings me back to Senator Sanders.

Why the hell is a man whose travel schedule certainly puts me and my worst stretches in corporate communications to shame by a mile, traveling in this way? Two theories:

1. His logistics team hasn’t mastered the airlines’ self-created loyalty system and Senator Sanders is bargain hunting airfares as if he’s the average rube family who goes on one flight every two years. Those poor folks always end up at the back of the plane in middle seats that aren’t even together, victims of seasoned business travelers who navigate the system much more efficiently and score choicer seats with better benefits. Given that we’re talking about a team of relentless political operatives who have to know the ins and outs of almost everything to run an enterprise this enormous with any degree of efficiency, this option seems unlikely.

2. Bernie Sanders is deploying a brand proposition and shamelessly pandering to his constituent base, who are eating this populist shit up with a spoon. He emboldens his Average Joe street cred by flying in the middle seat of coach and gives the people who already love him yet more fodder for sticking it to those they believe are oppressing them. It’s either craven opportunism, or, now that I think about it a little further, it’s possible Senator Sanders is trapped by his own persona where if he were to upgrade to first class like any rational thinking person who travels enough to earn those upgrades would, any photo taken of him in that seat would demolish his mystique. Think about your own life and how you feel about air travel. If your job required you to fly constantly, wouldn’t you take the free upgrades every single time? Of course you would.

Bernie Sanders either can’t upgrade because he’s actively grandstanding to curry your favor, or is trapped in that seat because seeing him anywhere else would diminish (at least a little bit) your fondness for him. Either way, I know if I had to travel this way as much as Senator Sanders does, my job performance would suffer. Is the brand proposition worth it, especially if you’re 74 years-old? It seems it is, considering just how much I see people post about this, which, also allows for a lot of crowd-sourced publicity. This brings me to my second big gripe…

The conspiracy of the lack of mainstream coverage of Senator Sanders’ campaign

Before we dive headfirst into this one, I’ll grant that some of the coverage choices by mainstream cable networks of the Presidential campaign are baffling. For instance, CNN chose to show Donald Trump’s empty stage instead of Senator Sanders’ speech that same night, and the Sanders campaign rightfully showcased this. That, to me, is poor journalism and justifiably fuels the anger and fear of cronyism felt by Sanders’ constituent base.

Despite that, the claims of lack of coverage are not only overstated, but completely ignore the fact that this is exactly how the Sanders campaign wants you to feel through a calculated media strategy. How do I know this? For starters, I’ve worked in media relations for the last decade and understand firsthand the importance of developing a coordinated coverage plan designed both to embolden your client’s (or in this case, candidate’s) public persona. Second, I understand just how challenging it can be to differentiate your candidate in a crowded political landscape, especially when you’ve got someone like Donald Trump dominating the coverage. I’m no Trump fan, but I acknowledge that his one true gift is understanding how to keep himself at the top of the news and garner a remarkably disproportionate share of the headlines. His abilities in this arena are truly unparalleled.

So, why no coverage for the Sanders campaign? Because that’s exactly what they want you to think. It’s not that the media is denying the Sanders campaign coverage, it’s my professional opinion that the Sanders campaign is actively discouraging it in order to play up the conspiratorial suspicions of his followers. Wall Street is gouging you! Corporations are pillaging this country! And The corporate media is complicit in this. They’re in Wall Street’s pocket!

The first time I had this suspicion is when 9News anchor Kyle Clark posted this commentary detailing 9News’ many attempts to reach the Sanders campaign, and their flat out refusal or inability to respond. Clark suspected that the Sanders campaign was surprised by its own success and overwhelmed by the volume of media requests they received.

It’s a fine theory, and it’s possible Clark is deigning to accuse the Sanders campaign of chicanery because that would be a) speculative, and b) sort of off-brand for a respected political reporter, but I think it underestimates the shrewdness of the staff hired by a man who’s been a professional politician and campaigner for more than 35 years. Is it realistic to think these folks are overwhelmed by simple interview and comment requests from local news stations? Please. The first thing you do as a communications professional on any project likely to receive media inquiries is write an FAQ document to address the most common ones. It’s a totally rote task to check off the list, and it’s part of the interplay game between reporters and those seeking coverage. It’s the system, and while it’s flawed, anyone who’s worked more than six months in this vocation understands it and can accommodate it.

Which is why I think the Sanders campaign is so diabolically brilliant. They looked at the landscape, saw their potential slice of the coverage pie, recognized it would be miniscule against the Trump steamroller, Hillary Clinton’s more than two decades working in the political front and center, and the clown car of Republican primary candidates, and said fuck it, let’s go in the opposite direction. Let’s actively seek the least amount of mainstream coverage possible and plant the seed in the minds of our constituents that we’re victims of corporate media stoogery.

It’s a strategy that’s not only cheaper and much less time intensive from a simple tactical standpoint, but plays into the already-existing fears of your followers. You galvanize your position as the outsider and inspire thousands upon thousands of pissed off social media posts from your most fervent believers. In essence, you’ve crowd sourced your entire media relations practice and created a brilliant brand differentiator for your candidate in a way that money and traditional media tactics cannot buy you. From a purely professional standpoint, my hat is off to whoever is in charge of this for the Sanders campaign. You’re doing incredible work.

It’s impossible to manufacture something like this without everyone seeing right through it:

CSrdWq5UYAAJlGA.jpg large

That’s got to come from outside the campaign, and while you absolutely cannot have any campaign fingerprints on it or else the whole jig is up, it’s only through a) having a populist outsider candidate with a motivated grassroots following, and b) manipulating the environment so that something like that can come into being. How do you do that? Well, I have no firsthand knowledge of what the Sanders campaign did or didn’t do, but here are some tactical choices I’d make to facilitate this. Don’t directly invite any media members. Make obtaining media credentials an arduous pain in the ass. Rope the press off into a crappy vantage point. Make the campaign unavailable for questions before or after the rally. These are but a few of any number of simple-but-dastardly things you can do to ensure lack of mainstream media coverage and empower your followers to do the jobs the media is supposedly falling down on.

Can I confirm the Sanders campaign is actually doing any of this? Of course not. It’s possible they’re feckless, as implied by Kyle Clark’s editorial conjecture, and unable to handle the demands of a relentless onslaught of inquiries from all across the country. Maybe it’s a staff of newbs who don’t have a good handle on the interplay between event logistics and media relations. Or maybe the entire corporate media complex is conspiratorially working together to silence Bernie Sanders and his supporters to ensure the status quo is maintained. Does any of that seem likely to me? Absolutely not.

Bernie Sanders seems like a good dude. But he’s running for President of the United States, an act that requires an abnormal amount of narcissism, self-regard, and incisive tactical acumen. And you have to surround yourself with a whole team of people wired in a very similar way. Using only the knowledge and insight I’ve gained in my chosen profession, it seems likely that the Sanders campaign is taking an oppositional approach to its media relations strategy and solidifying the Senator’s brand in the process. And they’re doing an amazing job at it.

So the next time you lament the craven machinations of any of the other candidates or wring your hands over the unfair treatment your candidate receives, perhaps you should think critically about how maybe you’re acting exactly the way your preferred candidate’s team wants you to. Politics is a game played with live ammo. Don’t think one candidate is coming into this without weapons of his own.

Cold Calls

March 25, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

Comedian Pete Holmes has a hilarious bit about how he loves to mess with telemarketers and cold callers and how one time that backfired epically. You can view it here.

While I love that bit unabashedly, I cringe thinking about it because a fairly substantial portion of my job involves calling or emailing people I don’t know to ask them to do something they probably weren’t going to do already. That’s an imposition from out of nowhere that, if you’re not expecting it, can feel like a total violation. And being the one doing the imposing and the near-violating certainly enhances one’s empathy for those who make their living doing it.

Giovanni Ribisi, playing Seth Davis in the movie "Boiler Room" spends a good chunk of the movie making cold calls. — Giovanni Ribisi, playing Seth Davis in the movie “Boiler Room” spends a good chunk of the movie making cold calls.

I don’t fancy myself a bad guy, yet watching someone’s face drop when I approach them out of the blue or hearing their voice deflate when I introduce myself over the phone certainly makes me feel for a moment like one. I immediately put myself in their shoes because I personally hate when someone broaches me uninitiated.

Which is why I think everyone should be mandated to work for at least a week doing cold calls of some sort. Semi-related, I also think everyone should be required to work retail, to work in food service, to do fundraising for nonprofit work, and to do factory work for a time. If everyone experienced the unique horrors of each of these sectors of employment, we’d all be better off and more well-rounded people.

However, if I could choose only one, I’d choose the cold calling one. Why? Because our empathy would go through the roof. My very first cold calling job, I was 18 years old, and I offered free housepainting estimates door-to-door. I lasted in this job for an excruciating one-and-a-half hours. At that age, I couldn’t handle the withering glares people gave me as they saw me trudge up my front walk with my little clipboard and backpack. They knew I was peddling some shit, and buuuuuhhhhhh I’m going to have to make awkward small talk with you, aren’t I? please just go away and let me enjoy my Saturday what did I do to deserve this? is what I heard in my head.

Despite flaming out of that job at light speed, I’ll never forget it because I immediately became nicer to everyone. We all have jobs, and some jobs suck. I have no desire to make anyone’s already difficult day even worse with rudeness, saltiness, or otherwise unpleasantness. I’m not sure I would have arrived at that place had I not put myself on the other side of the equation at such an early age.

And while I make cold calls much easier now – to media I want to cover my client, to coalitions I solicit for their support on an issue, to passersby on the street to appear in a video project I hope sees the light of day very soon – I still tense up and dread that first one at least a little bit.

As much as you tell yourself you don’t care about rejection, you do. It always stings a little, and when someone is notably rude, you always carry some of it with you. It’s impossible not to. That’s why unless someone gives me a super unignorable reason, I tend to go out of my way to be polite to those who are just doing their jobs. I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of surprising vitriol, having done basically nothing to earn it.

That’s not to say I’m a pushover and sign every petition, buy every service, or participate in every survey. Far from it. But I’m cordial, I’m polite, and I’m respectful to the reality that some jobs require some imposition. It’s easy to say no and not be a complete dick about it. Trust me, the people accosting you expect it.

But what we could all do without is the needless hostility. So the next time someone cold calls your house or stops you on the 16^th Street Mall, save your Pete Holmes routine, and just be polite.

And if that seems unreasonable, sign up for a campaign you believe in and make some calls to people you’ve never met. You might change your mind.

Vote for Jon of All Trades in Westword’s Best of Denver 2016 Readers’ Choice Awards

March 11, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

Vote for Jon of All Trades for Best Denver Podcast in Westword's Best of Denver 2016 Readers' Choice Awards

Well, holy shit.

The Jon of All Trades Podcast, a production of Deft Communications, is a finalist in the Westword’s Best of Denver 2016 Readers’ Choice Awards. This is the rote part of the email where I tell you how it’s an honor just to be nominated (It is!), and that while it would be nice to win, awards ultimately don’t mean anything.

That’s nice to say (and think), but if that statement were 100% true, you wouldn’t find this email in your inbox. Which is why I’m writing to you.

I’m asking you to take a few seconds out of your day to vote for the Jon of All Trades Podcast as Readers’ Choice for Best Denver Podcast. Here’s what you do: Click the link below, find the Best Denver Podcast category (should be about 3/4 of the way down), and choose Jon of All Trades. Here’s the link:

Westword’s Best of Denver 2016 Readers’ Choice Awards

That’s it. That’s all I want you to do. If you remain unconvinced, here’s some more verbiage that might be of interest.

As of this writing, I’m a week shy of doing this show for two years. With a couple of minor hiccups and hiatuses, that’s meant fresh content pretty much every week for the last 103 weeks, putting me at 90 shows – 87 with a guest (or guests), and 3 solo episodes. That’s nearly 4 days worth of audio content, which, now that I’m sitting here tallying that up, is, in technical terms, a shitload.

It feels unnatural to ask you to vote for me, but then considering how neurotic I am, I’m sort of amazed that anyone listens to these things at all. It’s incredibly flattering that you allow me and the guests I bring you and the stories we share, to be a part of your lives. For that I’m eternally grateful, and thoroughly humbled.

I do this show for you. And I do it for my guests because they have fascinating stories that deserve to be told, to be spotlighted, and to be heard from people who might not otherwise hear them. There’s so much worthwhile and interesting work going on out there, and I’m privileged to be the mere vessel through which good work gets the attention it deserves. Thank you for letting us be a part of your lives.

When it comes to the nuts and bolts of the show, I’m a one-man operation. I do all the booking, all the scheduling, all the recording, all the editing, all the writing, and all the promotion. I’m the jack of all trades on Jon of All Trades (So it’s not just a clever name…). But none of that work means anything without you.

So, this is the rare occasion where I blatantly ask you for a favor. If you like the show and if you’d like to help me grow its success, please vote for me in the Westword’s Best of Denver 2016 Readers’ Choice Awards.

If you don’t, that’s totally fine. I’ll still work my ass off to bring you the best content I possibly can. But if you do, I will forever be in your debt. Thanks in advance for your support. Have a happy Friday!

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The Insanity and Banality of the Iowa Caucuses

February 1, 2016 by Jon Leave a Comment

The Iowa Caucuses logo: https://twitter.com/iacaucus2016

I doubt anyone who reads this doesn’t know that today the Iowa Caucuses occur. If this is, in fact, news to you, I salute your reclusive commitment to avoidance of current events coverage. To the rest of you, I suspect you feel as exhausted by this process as I do.

Watching this ceaseless dog and pony show drag on and on all throughout Iowa – and, to a slightly lesser extent, New Hampshire – not only has me fatigued of every candidate, but has undermined some of my faith in democracy. Because this strikes me as an insane way of electing a president.

This is not to say the most important job in the world doesn’t deserve a thorough and exhaustive vetting process – it absolutely does – but is this the best we can do? Candidates started showing up in Iowa as early as 2013 to garner support in the first stop of this turgid slog of a campaign season. That’s three years courting voters, who, when it comes time to actually elect a president, account for a mere six electoral votes out of 538 possible. Throw in New Hampshire, and that number climbs to a robust 10.

That’s a lot of photo ops in front of ethanol fueling stations, “ad hoc” stump speeches at pizza joints, and town halls filled with people I have a hard time imagining exist in real life. I’ve voted in every election I possibly could since 2000 and work tangentially in government and politics, which is to say, I’m much deeper in this shit in a very real way than the vast majority of the general populace. And I’ve attended exactly one rally in the last 15 years.

Who are the people who show up to these things again and again, having had the option at one point of nearly two dozen candidates across both major parties? Who can stand having the traffic screwed up in their town that frequently?

It was in partially answering this question that I adored Will Leitch’s piece, “Iowa Electorate Is Sophisticated—and Impressively Modest” for Bloomberg.com. In it, Leitch paints a picture of a citizenry neither particularly enthralled with, nor irritated by, the constant chattering and to-do of the process of the Iowa Caucuses. They simply accept it as part of their lives.

While that isn’t terribly surprising – humans, no matter our circumstance, will generally find new equilibrium – I was charmed by their resigned acceptance. Leitch describes two scenes of benign indifference in the piece that stood out to me. The first sees a group of ladies who hold a monthly lunch at a pizzeria completely nonplussed by a Rick Santorum pitch in another part of the restaurant – they recognized what was happening, but kept on with their routine regardless. The second sees Leitch stumble upon two teenagers who’ve found a secluded spot in the parking lot of a Ted Cruz rally to make out in their car. I used to make out with my girlfriends in the parking lots of trailheads after hours when I was in high school. Had I lived in Iowa, co-opting a parking lot where people’s attention is diverted strikes me as a fine idea.

Compare this to the Cracked.com article from yesterday entitled “4 Ways The Presidential Race Has Destroyed Iowa,” as misleadingly inflammatory an article title as there ever was. Granted, the story involving Carly Fiorina appropriating an elementary school field trip to use the kids as props as she stumped for right-to-life policy is sort of grotesque, but stating that this process has “destroyed Iowa” is ridiculous.

The general thrust of the article is true, though. The focus given to Iowa is disproportionate to its overall effect and influence on the general election, and that we spend up to three years hearing about it is ludicrous. As for what to do about it, I’m as clueless as anyone else. Is this an indictment of a 24-hour news cycle? Probably. Does this beckon an overhaul of how we elect candidates? Maybe.

All I know is that virtually every sane person I know is already burned out on this presidential race, and we still have nine whole months to go. And since every candidate has already delivered more than a couple fistfuls of shallow platitudes, keeping with that spirit, here’s one from me:

Whoever your dog in this fight is, I wish them the best, and may they succeed not only in these Iowa Caucuses, but New Hampshire, and on to your party’s nomination. I’m confident they’ll be successful in transforming this country for the better, as they so claim. You know why? I’ll give the last, radically rational words to Will Leitch:

“This election is a big deal for the rest of us. But here in Iowa, it’s just another part of the landscape. Not something to ignore. But not something to get all that worked about, either. This strikes me, as it turns out, as the sanest way to react to this presidential election, and all of them. The trains will still run, the guitar will still need to be practiced, the car will still need to be parked, the Price Is Right live show must go on. Listen to the Iowans. Even when we’re all gone.”

Facebook Hiatus

December 1, 2015 by Jon 1 Comment

I am not anti-Facebook.

In fact, after some misguided self-righteousness (read: pig-headedness) that saw me quite vocally (and repeatedly!) proclaim my intentions of never activating a Facebook account, in 2010 I caved and jumped in with both feet. I’ve enjoyed it to varying degrees ever since. That is, until I’d had enough and uninstalled it from my phone two weeks ago.

The truth is I probably wouldn’t have even joined in the first place had I not lied on a job application about my “extensive social media experience” and then shockingly gotten that job that would start three weeks later. And although my tenure at that job lasted an excruciating two months, I’m glad for whatever the impetus was to get me more engaged with the people I choose to be connected with.

Because that’s the beauty of all social networks. They’re all entirely opt-in. You cultivate your own feed based on the merits of your social circle. I remember when I joined Twitter in 2008, the most common reason given for avoiding it was something like, “I don’t want to see what a bunch of people had for lunch, y’know?”

My response was always, “Then don’t follow anyone who posts such meritless banality.” I see the same thing now when people bitch about the quality of their own Facebook feeds. It makes me laugh. That’s not a criticism of the people in your feed, that one’s on you.

Don’t like your feed? Get a better one. Mute the most obnoxious and dull of your circle and follow more interesting folks. I have a great number of folks muted/blocked on my Twitter/Facebook pages, and I feel great about it. Occasionally I’ll get curious about someone I no longer receive updates from, go and look at their stuff again, and then – yep, I don’t miss you.

And yet, I still get it. Sometimes the noise becomes too much and overwhelms to the point of inspiring hopelessness or despair. I don’t remember exactly what the trigger was, nor does it even really matter in the endless churn of the whirring social media perpetual motion machine, but my staunch liberal friends were all – “shouting” is the wrong word since I’m friends with incredibly civilized people, but their insistence and intensity were a tick and a half higher than normal, so, okay, shouting – about something, and my staunch conservative friends were doing the same, but about a different issue. They weren’t yelling at each other as much as they were all just shouting into the night.

As I scrolled and scrolled with no end in sight, I finally just dejectedly closed the app, pressed my thumb into it until it started wiggling and jostling like a cartoon that had too much caffeine, and hit the small “x” on the top right corner. If you don’t like the shouting in the street, just close the window once in a while.

I describe the feeling of deleting the app as equal parts relief and regret. I was relieved, sure, since the cacophony felt punishing, and the immediate stop I put to it was freeing. But the regret was harder to qualify. It wasn’t fear of missing out or anything similar, it was more like I was letting everyone down.

Before you misunderstand me, this is not intended as ego stroking. I don’t believe my contributions in any way are of higher merit than anyone else’s, but by eliminating them altogether, I know with absolute certainty they were of lower.

This returns to my original point about cultivating your own feed. On the whole, I see posts from people on Facebook I like and respect, and anything they choose to add to the machine is a gift. That’s not to say I enjoy everything everyone posts – I certainly don’t – but to say many choose to post nothing, and it’s only because of those who are brave enough to offer something for consumption (Note: This does not take into account motive, but if your feed contains a great number of trolls who post blatantly inflammatory, monotonous, uncreative or otherwise terrible content, see again my point about the opt-in nature of this tool.) that we all have anything to look at anyway.

And in a weird way, more often than not I appreciate the political stuff. That someone so deeply cares about an issue or a candidate, they’d offer it up for discussion in a semi-public forum is, all things being equal, a heartening way to think about our democracy. Granted, all things are NOT equal, so this point is mitigated, but still.

We are engulfed by issues of import in this world, and while grotesquely imperfect, Facebook, when done correctly and thoughtfully, is a terrific way of beginning to engage with them. That’s why deleting the app off my phone caused me some regret.

A week later I re-installed it, and nothing had changed… Which, now that I think about it, is imprecise. I had changed. I was recharged. It was nice being away from the noise, and while I didn’t really miss it, I was happy to see the people I liked and respected again.

It’s important to step away and take a breath every so often, which is why I’m a fan of the Facebook hiatus. But it’s even more important to come back. The only way our engagement gets any better is if we’re all more thoughtful, intentional, and caring about the way we do it.