The Essence of Me

I’ve fallen into Twitter and I can’t get up. Nor do I want to.

I’ve capitulated.

It was only six months ago that I expressed, right on this blog, my reservations about Twitter:

“I admit I’ve had mixed feelings about Twitter myself - I registered many months ago, but have really yet to post to it. Between my life, my job, my blog, and everything else, I haven’t been able to get to the point where I can chronicle my activities in that manner.”

I had it very wrong. It’s not just a “chronicle of activities“.

Here’s what I just said on a very, very good post about Twitter by Chris Cree:

“Ah yes, Twitter. You know what it is? It’s the “ticker tape of collective thoughts”. They stream in front of you in a way that is strangely relaxing, not unlike watching a real stream up in the mountains. I really resisted this too - really. I didn’t think telling people what I had for breakfast was really interesting (or relevant). But I missed the point. When I saw the fun people were having with it at Blogger Social in NY last month, I finally got it. And jumped into the stream. And now I’m flowing just like the rest of you. Life is strange, because it is so capable of surprising you. Twitter really surprised me.”

The thing that really locked me in was how we used Twitter at SOBCon08. I had just finished my opening comments on Saturday and sat down in front of my computer in the back of the room, and decided to check-in with the Twitter stream. Sure enough, there were attendees “Twitting” to each other about what they were seeing, hearing, and feeling.

“What a cool backchannel!” I thought. I jumped in, and in the process, also posed questions about the sound quality, the temperature in the room, and a host of other things I wanted to get immediate feedback on. And feedback I got. All good and useful, and I didn’t have to interrupt the flow of the conference to make needed adjustments.

We saved a ton of time simply because we opened this backchannel, and in the process we found “reason number 136 that Twitter is really useful” - as a “quiet” feedback mechanism for MC’s at conferences.

Yep, that’s a “business use” if I’ve ever heard one. Even if some people think it’s a cult

Ruth Marie Sylte came up with even more institutional uses for Twitter on this post. Even folk-rock stars are using Twitter!

I’m so pumped about Twitter now that I just HAVE to break out into song (to the Sinatra classic “Come Fly With Me”):

Come Twitt with me, lets Twitt lets Twitt away
If you can use, some exotic prose
Theres a blogger in far bombay
Come Twitt with me, well Twitt well Twitt away

Come Twitt with me, lets float down to peruse
In Twitter land, theres a blogging band
And they’ll toot their flutes for you
Come Twitt with me, well float down in the blue

Once I get you on there, where the air is rarefied
Well just glide, starry eyed
Once I get you on there, We’ll follow you so near
You may hear, posters cheer - you’re a Twitterer now!

Twitter wise its such a lovely day
You just post the words, and we’ll link the blurbs
In each and every way
Its perfect, for a social network swoon - they say
Come Twitt with me, well Twitt we’ll Twitt away

By the way, I’m @Starbucker, and I’m a Twitterer. Fully capitulated.

April 29, 2008
To the Loyal Readers of RFGHF
Anyplace, Anywhere in the Virtual World

My Dear Readers,

Last night my wife and I watched the final installment of the brilliant “John Adams” mini-series on HBO. The episode featured the amazing letters that Adams and Thomas Jefferson wrote each other during the final chapters in their lives.

Hand-written with great care and conviction, the words flowed like prose, two fathers of our country putting their thoughts on paper for each other to savor.

For some strange reason, the eloquence of those words moved me to tears as I sat there watching and listening. And then it dawned on me – I was actually mourning something that had virtually disappeared from my life, and from the civilization in which I live.

The hand-written word. The formal letter, with all the proper trimmings, punctuation, salutations and sign-offs.

I didn’t realize how much I missed it until that moment.

I thought back more than 30 years ago, when I would anxiously await the local mail delivery person in the hope he or she would be carrying a letter from my girlfriend, who lived 90 miles away. There wasn’t e-mail or instant messaging back then. I couldn’t simply tap out a “hi grlfnd” with a smiley face at a moment’s notice to express my deep innermost feelings.

I had to put them on paper, in my own hand and with all the “properness” I could muster.
There was time to think, time to ponder, and time to construct, a series of words and sentences that actually worked within the framework of proper English usage, and conveyed, because of the intimate nature of this type of correspondence, a great depth of feeling.

I lamented that in this day and age, I don’t do much thinking about my correspondence - I just plant myself in front of a computer (or cradle that Blackberry in my hand), and start banging away at the hundreds of e-mails in my in-box.

And because of time constraints, the responses are typically quick, truncated, pithy, and utterly unmemorable. Grammar, salutations, punctuation, and even spelling are thrown out the window for the utility of immediacy.

Yes, that seems to be the world we’re in today – and I am a full participant, I admit. But I feel sometimes that while my world has grown from a foot to a mile wide because of the power of our digital world, it’s only an inch deep.

21 years ago, my first boss was a great lover of words and language. I recall having to work for hours and hours on a simple inter-office memo to make sure he was pleased with what I had written. He had strict rules for the layout of the memos, down to the use of proper grammar and (of course), proper greetings and sign-offs.

And if you used a word that didn’t fit, he’d call you on it. If something was misspelled, he’d call you on it. As a result my memos ended up being near-literary masterpieces, concise, structured, proper, and above all else, addressed properly.

At the time I hated the lengths I had to go to simply ask permission for something as mundane as procuring a vendor, but now I understand where he was coming from. He died in 1997, before e-mail came into its own, so I often try to think how he would have reacted to that means of communication. Actually, I know how he would have reacted to it- very badly.

He would have said “Oh my dear Terry (yes, he even used proper salutations when he spoke!), yes, e-mail is practical , but I can take no satisfaction from it, like I can with the written and spoken word. I want to have depth! I want to “feel” what you are trying to say, and better judge your intent and character. I can’t do that with a response like “10-4, wl do””

All those memories and lessons bubbled up as I listened to John Adams and Thomas Jefferson’s words, and saw the handwritten letters (and the impeccable penmanship – my handwriting is horrible).

I know I can’t really go back – for example, as much as I wish I could pick up a piece of paper and handwrite all of you a heartfelt note thanking you for reading this blog, I know it can’t come to pass – but I can pledge to put just a little bit more thought, a little more depth, and a better sense of structure into everything I write.

Even on those 140 character “Twitters”.

Because I want you to better judge my character, and figure out if any further reading of these ramblings is really worth your while.

I sincerely hope that you decide in the affirmative.

My Very Best Regards,
Mr. Terry Starbucker

A few years ago (pre-blogging) I really enjoyed reading the book “John Adams” by David McCullough, so it’s been no surprise that I’ve been enthralled by the HBO miniseries of the same name that is in the middle of its seven episode run.

The courage, intelligence, eloquence, and tenacity of Adams and our founding fathers was never so vividly illustrated than in the re-enactments that have been portrayed on the screen.

I have to admit I was nearly in tears watching the final deliberations over whether or not the colonies would declare independence, stirred by the passion for freedom and liberty but balanced by the fear of what was to come from their decision.

I was particularly impressed by Adams, who again and again would remind his fellow congress attendees that the facts were speaking for themselves - the British had already essentially declared war on the colonies by their words and actions against them. There was really no choice but to stand up to the tyranny and declare independence.

It wasn’t the first time Adams publicly convinced other people that facts should rule - in 1770 he conducted the defense of the British soldiers accused of murder in the Boston Massacre, an almost impossible task given the Bostonians’ hatred of British rule.

In his summation to the jury, he said this:

“Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.”

He won that case, by the power and persuasiveness of his words, and (of course), the facts.

What a valuable lesson to take from him - it can be applied to our world of business by this maxim - “if you can’t measure it, you can’t manage it“. That’s what I thought of after the impact of Adams’ words sunk in.

No matter how well we THINK things are going, or we HEAR things are going, if the facts say otherwise - the facts MUST rule. So we must generate the appropriate facts in our businesses that guide our decision making, and temper any feelings or emotions that may obfuscate those facts and put us down the wrong path.

Easier said than done, but if we can stick to our principles like John Adams did so well, we have nothing to worry about.

Take my advice and read the book and watch the miniseries - you will be enriched and inspired too!

I’ve been thinking about happiness a lot lately, because I’ve been talking about it a lot in a business context while I’ve been on the road (see my post “On the Road With Don Quixote“).

I wonder how many people in this world are truly happy, and I find it hard to really come up with a good estimate. It’s hard to tell just by observing all the people who cross my path every day, and time doesn’t allow me to step up to every one of them and ask “hey, are you happy?” (imagine if a stranger walked up to you and asked that question - would you answer?).

But my gut tells me that there are less than there should be, and that feeling comes from my own experience. There are some statistics out there that tend to support this - for example, I recently read about a survey done by Best Life Magazine where they asked 1,026 men ages 30-54 if they were “happy and very successful” , and only 10 percent said they fit this category.

Now that doesn’t mean that the other 90 percent were miserable - I bet a lot of them just didn’t get over the last hurdle.

And it’s a real doozy.

It’s such a tough one because it involves much courage and moxie.

What is it?

The simple act of accepting you are happy.

Think about that one. I believe so many of us are hardwired to approach real happiness warily, like we’re in fear of it. We can experience great moments of bliss, but then some kind of reality mechanism sets in. I wrote about this last December, describing my efforts to stay in what I called the “Happy Place” after a keynote presentation I made at a management meeting.

It’s like happiness is subject to the laws of gravity - the higher we go, the harder we’re going to fall. Bad stuff is going to happen - so we’d rather not be in such a “high” place. We’ll stick to a comfortable equilibrium, not quite so high off the ground, so when the hard stuff comes it won’t be a crash landing.

We do all the very, very hard work of paving our way to happiness, but we just can’t cross the threshold. We can’t just say to ourselves, “I’m happy consciously, constantly, and completely.”

Instead, we often end up saying we don’t “deserve” it, and we back away.

I’m trying to be much more conscious of these times when I’m approaching real happiness - so I can face those fears and leap into that ultimate state of being.

And look back down with a smile, finally knowing that I’m not going to fall.

Donna Cutting, aka “Gal Morale”, recently tagged me for the “16 Things You Don’t Know About Me” meme.

This particular meme is one of the favorites of the blogosphere - ever since I can remember there has been one of these floating around, with an ever increasing number of “things” to list. (the first one I was ever tagged for only asked for 5).

Consequently, I’ve pretty much put out there all my quirks and idiosyncrasies for the world to see. What I haven’t done is put them all in one post. So, here they are, the

“18 Things You Didn’t Know About Me Before I Started Blogging, Unless You Haven’t Read My Blog Yet and Then These Are 18 Things You Really Don’t Know About Me”

(I think that qualifies for the longest title for a blog list in recorded history!)

I have a weird ability to spot and buy women’s handbags that my wife just loves (and no ability to get any other kind of purchase right). One of these naturally born talents I guess

I was the editor-in-chief of my high school newspaper - I leave it up to you to determine if any of that experience made a difference.

Starbucker is not my real last name. I bet you didn’t know that…..

1. Ear piercer - now THAT was an experience - I actually pierced the ears of a two month old child - at age 17!
2. Garbage collector - I spent three summers behind one of those compacting trucks, tossing bags and cans into the back. We could cram 13,000 pounds in one of those trucks, and I lifted half of it each time. Great weightlifting program, but you smelled pretty bad afterwards. Maybe the gym was better….
3. Disc Jockey at a disco - Ask me to do my “disk jockey” voice sometime. My wife just loves it…….not.

Thanks Donna for the chance to reprise these lists. And I hope that all of you enjoyed getting to know me and my “quirks” a little better.

Happy Presidents Day!