Deft Communications

The Kids Are Alright

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While in Chicago recently, I got into an argument with my mom and uncle about music. My uncle basically asserted that “only the music of the 60s and 70s had substance” (which is ludicrous on its face), but allowed me to break out a line from one of the most underrated movies of our generation, Airheads. I said, “Is that a fact? So are you gonna tell me that ‘Purple Haze’ says something?”

We ended up going back and forth for several minutes while I basically served as defense counsel for three decades of music and youth culture in general. It’s a stance I take up probably more than I should, but for whatever reason when people want to pick on the youngest generation, it always gets my hackles up. I can’t fight the urge to call nonsense on this entire posture. Here’s a quote to illustrate why:

“The children now love luxury. They have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise.”

You know who said that? Socrates.

So literally, crapping on the new generation has been going on since the beginning of civilization, and yet we persevere. Starting with Socrates, if every generation seems to be worse than the one that preceded it, how are we even still here? Because that belief is just patently wrong, that’s why. The new generation is fine. They’re just different, and that’s frightening.

A perfect example is this Slate article called “Why Teenagers Love Making Jokes About 9/11.” The article’s title is slightly misleading because what teenagers actually love to mock are 9/11 Truthers, who, with some distance and ironic detachment, look increasingly ridiculous. I encourage you to read the whole thing, but summarized, I think this line is telling:

“Teenagers have surveyed the digital artifacts left in the wake of their parents’ trauma and decided they were taking up too much cultural space. So they’re flattening them into jokes and throwing them away.”

That’s wonderful! That’s progress! Dammit, that’s seeking to make the world a better place. They’re taking these 9/11 Truther memes and now using them to scathe the idiocy of anti-vaxxers as well. If that isn’t evidence of tremendous critical thinking and cultural appropriation in the name of science, logic, and rationality, I don’t know what is.

Teenagers necessarily have a unique worldview, and in expressing it, they disorient the hegemony we take for granted as we age. I’m grateful for this disruption. And although the older we get, the more uncomfortable that disruption becomes, it’s inevitable, so why fret and why not embrace it?

And lest you think the teenage world is all Weird Twitter and non-sequitir memes on social media platforms you don’t use, check out this video: Teens React to 90’s Fashion – JNCO Jeans.

Listen to those kids talk about how big those pant legs are! And why would anyone wear these?!? You know who they sound like? They sound just like their grandparents. Yep, those same people who freaked out when their kids wore them to school in the 90s.

I personally remember those exact reactions from the parents at my school when JNCOs were popular, and to hear these same traditionalist opinions from people nearly 20 years my junior only made me laugh. Hard.

And I laugh because while it’s expected that teenagers will surprise you with their opinions, it’s not usually in the direction of agreeing with the oldest generation. You never know what they’re going to say. But I do know one thing.

The kids are alright. The kids are always alright.

(This post was partially inspired by a Facebook conversation with William and Ryan Nee. h/t to William Nee for posting the Slate article on his wall.)

Day People

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When you work in a traditional style office for nearly a decade, you get used to a certain rhythm. You wake up at the buttcrack of dawn, put on your business casual clothes, pile into the car, fight traffic to whatever extent your commute dictates, arrive at the office, and then you don’t leave until it’s time to head back home (save for maybe during lunch, which I rarely took outside for 2 main reasons: 1) I’m cheap as hell when it comes to spending on myself; and 2) I preferred to eat at my desk while I caught up on my reading so I could go the hell home earlier). Then you fight traffic again and your night unfolds however it unfolds before you pass out and do it again.

rooster and moon

Now that I have a schedule that is necessarily different every day and have no office to which I’m required to report, I’ve seen the world in a brand new way. And I’m proud to share that day people are a strange lot.

I used to see them sometimes on the 16th Street Mall Shuttle – these people who didn’t seem to be beholden to the grind of corporate filing cabinet servitude – and I’d wonder what they did.

What are you doing just… OUT like this? Aren’t you worried about people walking by your office and seeing an empty chair?

I realize just how myopic and solipsistic this is – everyone’s life is not your life, Jon – but the safety of routine breeds this type of thinking, which is why it’s been so refreshing to experience the world in a different way. I see more than the standard array of upper-middle class white people dressed in Dockers and collared shirts having the exact same types of conversations about the exact same things.

When I work at any of a half dozen coffee shops in the downtown area, there are entrepreneurs like me, grad students working on long papers, burned out hippies, stay-at-home moms in yoga pants, hungover stand-up comics, trustafarians, and, yes, office folks absconding for a few precious moments, all flitting in and out.

What’s really fun is seeing a coffee house conduct its business during off-hours. Sales reps bounce in and out. Things are restocked, machines cleaned, supplies re-organized, sidebars between staff members add flavor to the ambient noise of the place. It’s fun getting to peek behind the curtain, which I suppose is a fitting joy for someone with a podcast such as mine.

The best part of working for myself is setting my own hours. There are times where I’m out and about handling my life at a time when I would have normally been at my desk being perhaps productive (although productivity sometimes felt secondary to being merely present, which is true of many office cultures, and also absurd), and the fact that I’m out feels very transgressive.

Ooooohhhhh, I’m not supposed to be out now. Look at me! I’m a bad boy!

What’s most amazing is that it seems like I should have more consternation about what is ultimately the counterpoint to the joys of making your own schedule: you end up working weird hours. For instance, earlier this week I sent draft copy to a client at 9:30 at night. I traded emails with a prospective client right when I woke up at 6 am on another day. You’d think I’d be fretting about this, but I don’t.

I’m one of the “day people” now. I work when I need to, whenever that happens to be. And I’d love for you to come join me while I’m out and about. Hit me up anytime.

Ghostwriting

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If you’re not subscribed to Next Draft by Dave Pell, you ought to be. Phil Bronstein, Chair of the Center for Investigative Reporting, says of Next Draft “Think of Dave Pell as the Internet’s managing editor. The NYT meets SNL. Smart, funny, essential.”

He’s right. Pell manages to distill the ceaseless whirring cacophony of news stories down to a succinct 10 item list that’s a mix of irreverent, vital and engaging. As someone required to be up on my shit at all times, a well-curated news digest compiled by a non-robot is invaluable.

In the June 22 edition, Pell linked to a trend piece in the New York Times about toast ghostwriters. Yep, you can now contract out your Best Man or Maid of Honor speech to a professional who will help you articulate all those feelings about your best friend, your sister, your brother or whoever that you can’t find the words for despite loving them to death.

Ghostwriting, Denver PR, Deft Communications
One of the greatest toasts of all time for all the wrong reasons.

Understandably, a lot of people don’t like to admit to using this ghostwriting service. According to one of the subjects in the story, “Some people call us and say, ‘I don’t want people to know that I’m using you.’” I suppose I can relate to that impulse, since, at its most base, it feels like you’re basically outsourcing your feelings, which seems crass and horrible. That’s certainly not the only way to look at it, as evidenced by one of the story’s subjects.

“You don’t sew your own dress,” she said. “You don’t bake your own cake. But those things are considered O.K. to ask for help with because they’re less personal. For some reason, speaking has always been something you’re not supposed to ask assistance for, even though it makes it better.”

I’m a professional writer, and I’ve ghostwritten speeches, op-eds, prepared remarks, press release quotes and simple emails. It’s true. One of my executive clients grew to trust me to the point where any email he sent that was for his entire regional staff came from me.

That’s called trust, and that’s why there should be no shame in hiring a ghostwriter. I believe it’s a fallacy that we know ourselves better than anyone else does. There’s a theoretical construct called the Johari Window, which you can see below.

Ghostwriting, Denver PR, Deft Communications

By far and away my favorite quadrant in the Johari Window is the top right, labeled “Blind Spot.” In this quadrant are things known to others, but not known to you. Have you ever had someone tell you something about yourself that’s at first flabbergasting (perhaps your immediate impulse is to get offended), but after you consider it, it’s incredibly insightful? That’s one of my favorite things in the world, and something you could never discover by yourself.

That’s what a good ghostwriter can do for you. By asking you questions, probing deeply into your relationship with whatever it is you want to write about, and recontextualizing things for you, your insights become fresher and your feelings cast anew. Writing is a gift, and we’re not all blessed with the same ones.

I can’t fix your car, I can’t play you a tune on the guitar and I can’t tell you what the stock market is going to do tomorrow. But I can write you a killer wedding toast, a dynamite keynote address, or a brief but punchy email to your employees.

There’s no shame in hiring a good ghostwriter. And, according to that New York Times piece linked above, “Ghosts, it seems, have invaded our parties, and they appear to be here to stay.”

Baby Travel

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George-Clooney-in-Up-in-the-Air

I am a veteran traveler. When I was working corporate, especially at the point in which I joined the company, I was on the go a ton. Granted, I’m no crazy road warrior salesman on the road 80% of the time peddling my wares in every one horse town buffeted by “Resume Speed” signs, but I earned Silver status in United’s Premier program for 3 years, and probably was on the road in some form or fashion five days out of any month.

I know what I’m doing, and I do it with remarkable efficiency and assertiveness. This is doubly true when you compare me against your average leisure traveler who has a knack for stopping right in the middle of the airport thoroughfare blocking everyone’s path while they stare, mouth agape, shoulders slumped, at the glowing Departures/Arrivals board as if they’re trying to remember how to read English.

I am, however, new to traveling with a baby, and that feels akin to going from playing beer league softball to digging into the box while Clayton Kershaw stares you down.

Kristin and I took our daughter to meet her great grandmother in Chicago last weekend. Our seven month-old baby was the hit of the retirement home, and Great Grandma was thrilled to meet the youngest and newest addition to the family. Some of my favorite photos of all time ensued this weekend.

And while the trip out to Chicago was near perfect and basically without incident, the trip home was something else entirely.

Babies, by necessity, come with a lot of gear. Toys, diapers, food, car seats, strollers, extra changes of clothes, I think we packed a portable foundry just in case the baby got bored and felt like forging some cast iron… I mean the list goes on and on. So, in addition to packing your suitcase with 75% more stuff than usual (thankfully baby clothes are small), let’s add a few conflicting factors for the trip home:

  • Rain – and lots of it
  • Parents who have gone full hipster
    • While visiting my aunt and uncle, we found this old box of 7″ records that we just couldn’t live without, and decided to haul it home.
    • We’re beer geeks, so we brought home four bombers of obscure (to Colorado, anyway) craft brews, as well as two bottles of weird barbecue sauce we found at Old Orchard Mall.
  • Elevated trains that aren’t necessarily equipped with elevators
  • And, oh yeah, a hell of a lot more rain

On the way to the airport, we hit Revolution Brewing for lunch and beer samples. This was a great decision, and one I’m still happy with considering the excellent food and superb beers we had, despite Kristin having to haul roughly 50 lbs of baby, stroller and carseat up three flights of stairs to the train to the airport while I had my backpack and our two suitcases weighing in at about 100 lbs. The way I look at it, we burned off the beers on those steps.

Where things got complicated is when we got to the airport. Our flight, originally scheduled for 5:35, ended up delayed until 7:19. No big deal, right? Well, then it was delayed until well past 8:00 pm. Then after 9:00. Then 10:00. Thanks to some brilliant finagling by my mother, we switched flights to a 9:00 pm one. That flight lacked a 3rd flight attendant for some never explained reason, and we ended up not taking off until after 10:30. Normally this would be annoying, but ultimately not a big deal.

But, right, we’ve got this little person under our care who doesn’t know why she can’t sleep, why she has to stare at the fluorescent lights while she eats, and wonders where in creation we are.

Amazingly, she handled the whole ordeal like a champ and experienced only one minor meltdown all day. We loaded her onto the plane where she promptly passed out on my lap and slept the whole flight. She seemed to take the whole thing in stride, which is remarkable because she’s a baby and she could have just decided to be pissed off about it, and let everyone know that all day. But she didn’t, and I didn’t think I could love my baby more than I already do. But hey, a little good humor goes a long way.

It was definitely more stressful for Kristin and me, and we both joked about how funny it is to think about how angry we used to get about travel setbacks when we were younger. Having the perpetual Sword of Damocles of a baby meltdown hanging over your head definitely puts your previous short temper and pettiness in perspective.

Thank God we have such a good baby.

Turn Signals

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You know how there are people in your life who curate incredibly enjoyable Facebook feeds that shine like a bright star amidst the endless, interminable night sky of vaguebooking, inane quizzing and esoteric complaining? I have one such friend who posts updates about his mélange of projects which include his work as a home vintner, carpenter and chef alongside photos of ski outings and travel and occasional viral content that’s actually fun and interesting. He’s a fascinating guy, and his Facebook feed is appropriately representative of that.

He recently posted this update and photo:

“Having just come back from driving in Denver…this is so true”

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I also recently had a different friend in town from the East Coast. She too complained about the drivers in Denver, and justifiably so. Having traveled extensively, I feel confident in saying Denver drivers are, when graded as a group, generally pretty terrible. I have not traveled anywhere where people stop on entrance ramps to the highway with as much frequency as they do in my fair city. Any time someone does this, I feel like my head’s going to explode because not only is this hilariously counter-intuitive, it is grotesquely unsafe.

With regard to the turn signal thing, my East Coast friend drove us to a brewery (where else, given my disposition?) and tried to merge into the left lane. She threw the blinker on, and like Denver clockwork, the person behind her sped up to prevent the merge. She exclaimed, “Why? I’ve got the signal on. I’m trying to be a good citizen!” All I could say was, “That’s Denver driving for you.”

And that’s where these two disparate people meet. One recognizes that Denver drivers don’t ever use turn signals, the other wonders why. Very simply, people in this town don’t use their blinkers because if you do, you’re pretty much guaranteed never to get that merge you need.

Some misguided dope behind you will think you’re in a race you had no idea you were a part of, and speed up to prevent you from beating them to whatever arbitrary finish line they’ve concocted in their minds. So you learn to adjust. And adjusting, sadly, means you’re frequently better off without your turn signal if you have any lane changing aspirations whatsoever.

To be clear, I abhor this philosophy and believe the world would be roughly 18% better if everyone used proper turn signal protocol at all times, but still. I got places to be, too.

Presentation Tip #2: Learn about your speaking venue

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Deft Communications specializes in helping our clients prepare for all manner of presentations, whether it’s going on camera as a spokesperson, delivering a keynote speech to a large auditorium, or simply conducting a small team meeting. This blog series will periodically provide best practices for any type of presentation you do.

Image can be found at the following link: http://www.politico.eu/article/parliament-wants-greek-theater/

I’ve stood in front of hundreds of people in a darkened auditorium with large video screens displaying my meticulously crafted PowerPoint presentation flanking me on either side, wireless mic attached to my lapel, booming sound system sending my voice into what felt like infinity.

I’ve also stood up at a round table seating 10 people, the warm fall air’s gentle breeze washing over everyone’s sunglass-adorned face, no notes in front of me, no sound amplification, only the fondness for my best friend and his new bride carrying me through the brief two minute presentation.

Which speaking engagement was I more nervous for? Beforehand – it was a tie. They both seemed equally daunting. In the moment, it was easily the second one. If that surprises you, you’re not alone. It surprised me, too, but I was ready for it. Why? Because I structured my speech to deal with that level of intimacy.

I wrote this speech to be structured in such a way, that if I got lost, got too emotional, looked too long at the groom’s crying mother, whatever… I could short circuit to the end without missing a beat and without anyone being the wiser. That’s exactly what happened. The groom’s mother started to weep, I got caught up in the emotion of what I was saying, lost my train of thought, and short circuited to the end.

It’s for that type of reason that it’s so important to understand your venue when you approach a speaking opportunity. I knew this would be a small affair – we were only the bride and groom’s 10 closest friends and family members – so I didn’t want to use notes, and I didn’t want to sound too formal. So I knew while writing that I’d have to write in a way that built in a failsafe in case I hit any snags. I did, and the speech turned out wonderfully. Tears streaked everyone’s cheeks, and they complimented me after it was over. It was a good feeling.

Compare this to the large auditorium situation. I knew the crowd would be large, I wouldn’t be able to see anyone, and that I’d have to practice, practice, practice. Amazingly enough, the fact that I couldn’t see anyone gave me comfort because outside of an errant cough or the reactions from my planned laugh lines, I felt much less exposed giving this antiseptic performance than I did while delivering a heartfelt speech to less than a dozen people.

That’s why considering your venue is so vital. Understanding the physical characteristics of your presentation space will – or at least should – shape how you write your material. Is it a large group or a small group? How large? How small? Are you expected to stand up and act as leader or remain seated at perhaps a conference table? Will you need a sound system? Is the audience solely live, or are there webcast attendees to consider? All of these things, taken in concert with the event’s purpose, will inform how you present.

You don’t drive your car the same way on the highway as you do in your neighborhood. Your presentation style shouldn’t be the same in all venues either. Learn as much as you possibly can in advance of your presentation about the room, the audience, the layout, and the physical characteristics of the venue, and then use that knowledge to create the best presentation possible.

Because whether you’re looking to make your best friend’s mom cry, or trying to keep the attention of hundreds of strangers, understanding your environment is a big component of achieving any of your communications goals.

 

Kindness

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This’ll be a short one, but hopefully it perks up your day as it did mine.

It can be easy to get bogged down in negativity. I’m especially prone to this for a bevy of reasons I won’t go into here, but for me, when it rains it pours. I start generating the negative self talk for whatever reason, and then I get trapped in a cycle of seeing nothing but ugliness, pettiness, rudeness, bad citizenship, and egregious lack of courtesy. When you’re in a mood like this, you see what you want to see. And when I’m down, I seek the negative. Hard.

I’m not currently in one of these phases, but when I am, I have to remind myself that it’s amazing how beautiful the world can be if you’re open to it. That’s as broad a statement as I’m going to make here because I don’t want this to turn into some boring, platitudinous, vaguely inspirational piece of claptrap that uninteresting people bombard you with on Facebook; rather, I want to share a very small story of common kindness that made my day. Maybe reading about it will make yours.

Yesterday, with gorgeous weather embracing the city for the first time in what felt like forever, Kristin off tending to a real estate client, and me assuming full parental duties for the afternoon, I took the baby for a walk in her jogging stroller through my neighborhood of Park Hill.

As I walked down one of the sidewalks, I noticed a man with a big commercial-size lawnmower working on someone’s property. It was a bagless mower, and the clippings blew out the side. Timing it in my head, I realized I would pass by him right as the clippings blew on the sidewalk, and, as a result, all over my baby. I began to make a move to cross to the other side of the street to avoid this when the man running the mower looked up at me.

He saw my intent, caught my gaze, stopped in his tracks, and shut down his mower until I passed. I waved at him, said “Thank you!” and he took his right hand off the mower, waved it kindly at me and smiled. He waited until I was well past the yard, and then fired up the mower once again.

He didn’t have to do that, and truthfully, it wouldn’t have been a huge deal to walk across the street, but he did, and he made me feel good. It was a random, small act of courtesy, and if we’re open to those moments, they happen more often than we think.

May your day be filled small courtesies and random acts of kindness. Both given and received.

Professional Communication Class

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Last Wednesday Jon and I were invited to be guest lecturers at Colorado State University’s Professional Communication class. We were asked to speak about what we thought was important to know about the professional world, what we wished we knew, any mistakes we made and anything that surprised us about the professional world.

Kristin presenting to the Professional Communication class at Colorado State University.
Kristin presenting to the Professional Communication class at Colorado State University.

Before we delved into our biographical histories (which are quite varied and filled with interesting and weird digressions), we first looked at the syllabus sent to us by the instructor, who was an old friend of ours from graduate school, and we noted that the day’s lecture topic was professional presentations. Having an entire blog series about the topic (the next one goes up this week!), we thought it prudent to share our insights to the class about professional presentations.

We considered going up there and winging it – I mean, we’re professionals, we’re busy enough as it is, and these are college kids, how would they even know the difference? – but we quickly came to our senses and put together a PowerPoint and an outline of talking points. This became a lesson unto itself.

One of the best things you can do when you approach a presentation – any presentation – is to prepare for it. Treat every opportunity no matter the audience, how big, how small, above you in the corporate hierarchy or below, with the same careful consideration, and you’ll generally acquit yourself well. We need to practice what we preach, and that’s why we treated this audience of college kids with the same level of importance as we would a potential client.

Did we reach them? Who knows. College kids are notoriously hard to read in a classroom setting, but the important thing is that the trick to giving good professional presentations is the same trick to succeeding at pretty much everything else.

Work hard, prepare as much as possible, and give your best effort no matter the circumstances. Show up for your audience. Show up for your clients. Show up for yourself.

Interested in having us speak to your college class? Get in touch with us through the Contact Form on our website. We’re happy to talk about anything communications related you’d like. Just click that link.

Cell Phone

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Reasonable representation of what Jon looks like using a cell phone.
Reasonable representation of what Jon looks like using a cell phone.

When I worked for Noble Energy, I was very guarded with my cell phone number. I had to be. Working in communications for one of the top two oil and gas producers in the entire state makes you very popular.

Couple that with my general philosophy of accepting cold calls from pretty much anyone, guarding my cell phone number became a survival technique. Why did I let people cold call me? Because although I have extreme confidence in my ability and creativity, I’m not nearly arrogant enough to believe I could predict or self-generate where every next great idea came from. So I liked to listen. Give me your best pitch, and if it’s cool, creative, and/or otherwise worth doing, let’s do it. Let’s push. Let’s advance the methods, venues and fora in which we talk about this business.

I got some great ideas this way, and forged a number of interesting partnerships. Still, relative to the size of my overall network, few had my cell phone number. It wasn’t on my business card, wasn’t in my email signature and I only read it aloud on my outgoing office voice mail message, which means, if someone wanted to have it permanently, they had to write it down or type it, then manually edit their contact card for me and add it. Sort of a hassle. Again, this was by design.

Let’s fast forward to the present. I’m now on my own. No office phone number, only a cell phone from which to conduct all my business.

I’ve had happen more than a couple of times a text message sent to people I consider close professional acquaintances that were met with the response, “I don’t have this number in my phone. Who is this?”

At first, I felt deflated. How do you not know me? I thought we were close! Am I no longer important to you now that I don’t work for the giant corporation? My, how the world is a cold place.

Then I snap out of my pity party and remember that I live in a problem of my own creation. People don’t have your cell phone number because you never gave it to them, dummy. So I text back, give them my cell number – which, incidentally, I’ve had since I was 18 – and tell them it’s my primary contact number now.

Things change remarkably when you leave the corporate world and branch out on your own… which is a statement so banal, a fake, vinyl ficus in the corner of your drab, neon-lit office just withered and died from boredom at the groaningly facile insight that platitude provided, but it’s abundantly true.

So much so, I had no reason to ponder how an exceedingly minor way in which I conducted myself previously would spill into my new life. This is happening more and more.

So, do you need my cell phone number? I’m not dumb enough to leave it out here for all the spambots to find, but hit me up via email, and I’ll be happy to provide. It’s jon@deftcom.us.

Talk to you soon.

Productive VS Busy

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I have a coffee mug that reads, “Are you productive or just being busy?” I’ve adopted this as my work philosophy, and it should be the mantra of all self-employed people.

Productive VS Busy

When you work for yourself – especially at the beginning – it can be tough to gauge how successful a day, a week, or even a couple week stretch is. You’re basically accountable only to yourself, and since your days aren’t spent grinding out a clock that forces you to be there no matter how productive you are, the question of productive vs busy becomes that much more vital.

Since I’ve had a long head start on Jon, who is new to working for himself, it’s funny to listen to him try and figure out how productive a day he has had. The other day he recounted how he had taken two meetings with prospective clients, advanced a proposal on another, set up a meeting to gain resolution on a different outstanding proposal, set up the billing for Google apps, posted a blog entry, edited a podcast episode, and set up the PIN for the company debit card. This was in addition to emptying the dishwasher at home, feeding our daughter twice, and paying the health care premium.

It was only after listing off that day’s accomplishments that he realized just how much he’d achieved. I asked him, “If you’d gotten that much done in your old corporate gig, would that have been a productive day?” He said, “If I had gotten that much done in corporate, that would have been like a ticker tape parade day.”

That’s why I like having my mug with the reminder on it. It can be easy to get bogged down in the rote tasks that seem to hijack our day right from the get go. Whenever it feels like this might be happening, I look down at my coffee mug and try to re-focus. Having worked a handful of corporate jobs myself, I remember when my days seemed to be very busy, but not terribly productive. I expended a ton of effort, but what did I have to show for it?

When you’re on your own, it’s all the more important to make sure you’ve got something to show for your time spent. This mindset also informs our approach with every one of our clients. We don’t want to be the consultant you spend a lot of time with in meetings, which, if you’re billing by the hour, can be very lucrative for a consultant. We want to be the ones enhancing your bottom line, not detracting from it. We want to deliver products to you, not eat up your time.

In short, we want to be productive for you, not just busy.