A Change to the Blog (and Where You'll Find Me)

As many of you know, I've struggled with what this blog should be. It's changed over the years, from being an outlet for my thoughts; to being one focused on supreme customer service (or the lack of); to an update on job search techniques.

I've done book reviews, run some pop culture tournaments, and spoken about my hobbies.

Ten years ago, this might've been fine; but today, successful blogs have more singular focuses.

So, starting in a week or two, I'll be posting most of my "professional-type" posts to LinkedIn. I was approved to be a publisher on the site (which means a *whole* lot of people will be able to read me in the future). I'm looking forward to some great conversations.

I'll focus on internal communications, customer service and -- for now -- the job search.

This blog won't go away; from time-to-time I'll be cross-posting stuff, and I actually have a few blog posts in the hopper; but it will definitely be less 'professional' and more pop culture. I'll keep the professional stuff on the LinkedIn page; and the more fun stuff here. Don't worry, it won't turn into a ghost town (inside joke).

Starting in July, I'll also be upping my use of Twitter and Google+ (and, most likely, by default, Hootsuite), as I have loads of interesting content I've accumulated that I'd love to share, once I get a system and process in place.

Obviously, I'll keep you all posted -- along with new links to my LinkedIn author page and my other social media channels.

Job Seeking? Leave Humility and Modesty at the Door, Please ...

Whew ... it's been a long time since I blogged. I had one topic in mind; but it's a little more pop-culture than business-focused; and I didn't want to return from such a hiatus with something as meaningless as pop culture.


This morning, I was thinking about the irony of job-seeking versus being a great employee. Those very traits that make someone an exceptional employee are not the ones that convince an organization to hire them in the first place.

What do I mean? Well, simply stated, most companies seek out employees that will always put the company's needs first. Even salespeople (who need to exude more confidence than the average worker) still should never lose sight of the company's mission and goals (although, again, with sales, many of those goals are achieved through sales goals).

And, I like to think I fit into that category. I've been fortunate to have the ear of several executives during my professional life, and none of them would ever say I ever recommended anything that benefited me, exclusively (or, more to the point, *didn't* benefit the company).

Yet, when it comes to interviewing and job-seeking, humility and modesty is not a welcomed trait. If you cannot speak effusively about yourself, your skills and your accomplishments, you're perceived as not being a strong candidate.

And, for someone like me (true story: I was asked in an interview what one word best described me and -- without hesitation -- I said "modest"), that can be a challenge.

Part of the difficulty stems from the fact that most of my "accomplishments," I simply considered to be "my job." To me, even if I do my job exceptionally well, it's still my job (and should be done to the best of my capabilities). So, to go into an interview and spew out all these great things I did, just feels insincere to me.

I'm not without confidence ... but, being confident doesn't necessarily mean talking yourself up. I leave most interviews convinced I can help the company achieve its goals and that I can handle the responsibilities of the position (and deliver exceptional results). Anecdotally, I can point to my previous positions: Look at where the company was before I got there; look where it got *while* I was there; and look at where it is now that I'm no longer there. I can assure you, the differences are stark.

The other difficulty comes from the fact that -- rightfully so -- interviewers want to learn what led to your accomplishments. And, again, I consider it just my job. I go into a company; learn the product/service or the culture (depending on my role and focus); and then I ensure messages reach the target audience in the way intended. Whether I'm creating the messaging or editing it or advising someone else; the important piece of the puzzle is making sure the audience *hears* the message the way it was intended. If they don't, the failure lies with the message and message sender  (*not* the audience).

But, ask me to describe the minutiae of how I do that, and I'm probably going to be a little flustered. It's not something I've ever analyzed (despite the fact that I pride myself on being meticulous and methodical). In some ways (and I'm not comparing myself to him, necessarily), it's similar to the plight of Ted Williams.

Ted Williams is arguably the greatest baseball hitter of all time (I can make a case for Ty Cobb; but that's another blog!). After his playing career, teams wanted to hire Williams to teach *their* players how to hit; which was a great idea on paper. Problem is -- Ted couldn't explain how he hit, and he certainly couldn't teach anyone. To him, it was as simple as: see the ball; hit the ball; and it worked. Ask for more details than that, and you'd be sorely disappointed.

One of the reasons I've built up my network so much (and that I've tried to actually *meet* as many of the people in my network as I can), is because there are few things in the job search as powerful as having someone talk you up to the company to which you've applied. Sure, I can apply for a job online; but if I know someone who knows someone at that company, and my contact is able (and willing!) to tell the person what a fantastic addition I'd be; and how I can help transform their company ... well, that accomplishes two things: First, it's an incredibly meaningful recommendation (and, honestly, you can't have too many of those!); and second, it takes the pressure off of me.

Then, I can focus on simply being a modest and exceptional employee.

Personal Brand -- A Twist on a Newsday Article

This past weekend, I appeared in Newsday. The reason wasn't entirely great -- it was a spotlight on the long-term unemployed (which the Department of Labor defines as those who have been out of work for more than 26 weeks).

After the interview, I had some concerns: concerns that the tenor of the article could paint me as "unemployable" -- which I certainly didn't want. I didn't love the way the original spotlight ended; so I asked the author to include the quote which appears (which, I felt, put more of a positive spin on the situation.)

When it came out, I saw the amount of space allotted, and I understood why many of my comments and suggestions hadn't been incorporated. Still, I saw the opportunity to use the article as a jumping point.

As I said to the author, I wasn't opposed to being included, but I needed to ensure it had a positive impact on my job search (and my personal brand). I didn't want someone to read it and say, "wow, he's been out a long time ..." I'd rather have them say, "how has no one scooped this guy up yet?"

So -- here is *my* version of how I would've loved the article to appear, if I'd had unlimited space! I'm using the author's original material as a launching point:


Long-term unemployment isn't a new experience for Chris Palermo, who lost his communications manager job at a local educational technology company in January, after two years.

The last time the 44-year-old Ronkonkoma resident was unemployed was in October 2009, just one year after receiving the Achievement in Communications Award from the International Association of Business Communicators. It took him 14 months to find another job. He hasn't been lucky this time either. He is still jobless after sending out close to 500 resumes. He believes the intense competition from numerous other long-term unemployed people is the problem.

"The number of skilled workers that are out of work, really enables companies to be uber-specific with their hiring requirements," he says.

Despite the length of his unemployment, he remains hopeful.

Earlier this summer, Palermo published two blog posts on job seeking. One, in particular, discussed a new method he began using to overcome a potential weakness in the online networking site, LinkedIn.

"I check LinkedIn for every job I apply to, to see if I have connections to the company," he says. "A lot of times, my contacts respond that they don't really 'know' the person to whom they're connected.

"So, then I realized I was being hypocritical -- I noticed I had a number of connections I didn't know as well as I should," he says. "Rather than simply considering those connections to be 'not-so-useful,' or -- worse yet -- 'cleaning house' and deleting them, I emailed each and every one of those connections to arrange informational meetings, with the goal of having that connection leave the meeting, thinking, (a) I was knowledgeable about my craft and (b) I was a good person.

"Overall, I had pretty good success with that initiative. I still have a number of connections to follow up with, but I have faith in my persistence," he laughs.

Palermo believes networking is a key element in the job search, but it's not the only element.

"We're consistently told that 80 percent of the jobs aren't listed online," he says. "If that's true, why would anyone spend more than 20 percent of his time looking online? By significantly reducing the number of hours spent searching, it frees up time to do more meaningful things, like networking."

He created a job-search technique that enables the viewing and searching of thousands of jobs in only three hours each week.

"The technique uses technology -- nothing that costs any money (in fact, I don't even charge when I *teach* the class)," he says. The intent is to have a hands-on session where we set everything up, and -- after that -- people can simply check the information a few times a week; and they'll see exponentially more jobs than they have ever seen before."

Palermo has taught this technique in groups ranging from three to more than 40 job-seekers.

"I've actually received emails from participants after the class saying, 'Thank you for giving my life back!'" he says. "That's a great feeling; and it's certainly part of my pay-it-forward mentality."

This fall, Palermo enrolled in the Comprehensive Project Management Certificate Program at Stony Brook. For him, this has two purposes -- first, it's part of his personal belief that we should be life-long learners (especially when it comes to personal/professional development); and second, it validates his belief that business communications *is* business (and not that it's just an unnecessary/'fluff' part of the business). It should be woven into the business fabric.

"By taking this course, I hoping to gain the skills to ensure my role is even more ingrained into the business structure of my next company," he says. "On a personal note, it's amazing how much of the core concepts of project management I already used in my personal life.

He also joined a number of organizations to continue his learning and networking, including the Long Island chapters of the International Association of Business Communicators (IABC) and American Society of Training and Development (ASTD), as well as the Public Relations Professionals of Long Island (PRPLI) and Social Media Association.

"I also joined Toastmasters," he adds. "which was recommended to me, and -- as I've learned more about the organization, I can see myself enjoying it as well as taking on a leadership role."

Finally, a long-term goal for Palermo is the construction of a knowledge-management/networking website specifically for Long Island Job Seekers -- something he plans to continue even after he's employed.

"There are numerous networking groups (including LinkedIn, of course)," he says. "My site would not be a competitor to LinkedIn, but, rather, a complementary site, specifically focused on Long Island people (not necessarily the LI Job Market, since many are willing to travel to NYC). The idea is to merge all the existing networking groups and job boards under one, easier-to-use site, with far more robust features for sharing job leads and search tips, while still offering an abundance of 'connectivity' between the members, without compromising their privacy."

It's easy to see how Palermo remains optimistic, even in the face of the long-term joblessness that continues to plague the nation.

"I'm still confident that my skills, my experience and my commitment to life-long learning will land me a great opportunity," he says.

(Admittedly, this article *would* have taken considerably more space than the allocated area available. On the other hand, for someone (like myself) who is typically super modest, it's almost cathartic writing something like this. I'd encourage any/all to share this -- my network can and will expand exponentially, based on the reach of this particular post).

Choices

When I was growing up, I was a big fan of "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. For those who don't know, these were books that laid out a scenario (and adventure, essentially) and would present the reader with two (or more) choices at vary stages. The choice the reader made would lead them to another page (different for each choice) and, thus, the adventure could be different each time.

Early on, I suspect these were intended as a moral test -- effectively, choose the "right" choice; get a reward; choose the wrong/immoral/unethical things, face the consequences. Eventually, they morphed into more arbitrary results -- so even choosing what seemed the right thing might end poorly; simply because the book's author wanted to make things less predictable (which, as a reader, can be disappointing, I'm sure; but, as an adult, makes total sense (i.e., things rarely go the way they should).

When I was in college, in a moment of self-awareness, I reflected on choices I'd made ... most notably, which college I was going to attend. I had been accepted to two, and my choice really came down to a gut-check. I thought, "if I had chosen the other college, I'd have never met the friends I've made here -- which I'll have for the rest of my life -- and I'd never have met my girlfriend; and my career choices would be different, etc." Of course, years later, the girlfriend is long gone; and of the many friends I made, there are but a few I speak with regularly.

The difference between life and the books is pretty stark. In the book, when I didn't like the way something turned out, I could just start over. Or, better still, I could just go back to the place where I made a "bad" choice and pick it up from there. I didn't have to necessarily start over; just start from where I needed to make a different choice. In life, we don't get that option. Each choice you make (well, the meaningful ones, anyway) impact your life in ways that are immediate *and* long-lasting.

For example, this past week, I had to make two such choices (well, I had to really only make one; but I had to think about making two).

Back in July, my knee began bothering me again. I was convinced I'd torn my meniscus. Now, I've gone through two surgeries -- they're not terrible; the recovery time is about a week (a few days off your feet, then a cane for support; within a week I was walking freely, albeit gingerly).

Over the past two months, the pain varied from intense to nearly insignificant. When I went to see the surgeon -- of course -- it was insignificant ... until the last visit. He gave me a steroid injection, and finally recommended surgery. He's not convinced it's the meniscus, but he's looking to perform something called microfracture surgery (which has been helpful for people). I've had to do a lot of debating about this .... there are times, even now, my knee feels okay; and other times where I need to take an anti-inflammatory. Even today, I'm still not 100 percent convinced I *want* to do the surgery (granted, the results in the link above don't entirely pertain to me; I don't put my body through the same rigors as a professional athlete ... my goal is simply to eventually be able to exercise, lose weight, and return to playing recreational basketball; something he seems to think is realistic). Still, the key was the surgeon said he didn't see any way it could make things worse (although, secretly, I'm still hoping he sees a meniscus tear as the cause of the problems).

Another related choice is the method of anesthesia -- the first time, because I have what's known as a 'difficult airway,' it took nearly an hour to intubate me. The second time, it was proposed that I go through the intubation while awake (something that isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds -- especially, when the amnesiac they give you doesn't actually work, and you remember every. single. moment.).

This time, the suggestion is an epidural, followed by conscious sedation (so, in other words, no intubation) -- there's numbness from the waist down; and there's a smaller amount of anesthesia (so you're more "napping" than "sleeping.") It still sounds semi-terrifying (but, then again, as we get older, and our misguided conceptions of immortality strip away, *every* surgery sounds terrifying).

The second "choice" I had to make was an even more difficult one (although, as I said, it stopped being a choice). My brother-in-law -- who works as a custodian in a school district -- heard of an opening at another school, and proposed it to me. He made very good points:

1. It's pretty decent money
2. It's pretty decent vacation time, etc.
3. It's an evening shift (so, I could continue to look for jobs/interview/network during the day).

It's a compelling argument. On the negative side, it's a step away from what I've spent my entire career doing. It's not that it's *beneath* me (those who know me know I'm not particularly judgmental), it's just that, looking at it from the perspective of a hiring manager, it's a warning sign. If I were hiring someone to work for me (back when I was a magazine editor, for example), I wanted to see progressive experience in that field. A departure would certainly raise questions. I'd like to think the simple answer of, "it paid more than unemployment, and the shift enabled me to work while still pursuing a job in my field," would satisfy a potential hiring manager; but you never know.

So, I spent days thinking about the choice, and agonizing, going back and forth. Ultimately, it didn't matter. When my brother-in-law spoke to the contact, he learned the position had been filled already. In many ways, I was relieved, because it meant I didn't have to make the choice; although even that is misguided, because for all I know, the job could've been a dream job for me.

And, somewhat soberly, I realize, there really isn't a page I can go back to, to see where the "wrong" choice was made and start over.

Lemonade from Lemons (Responding to the ol' Bait-N-Switch)

I try not to post too much "negative" stuff here, for a variety of reasons: 1 - I believe positivity breeds positivity; and 2 - as someone else recently told me, it's enough for people to know I'm unemployed; I don't need to drive it home with negative stories.

But, despite that, I see this next story as having a positive outcome (on two levels) despite the fact that it was among the most appalling situations I've ever seen.

I had submitted an application as a director of communications to a NYC-based non-profit; one I was exceptionally excited about. I'm always wary of non-profits, because salary isn't usually consistent with the corporate world's titles; but the mission of this non-profit -- educational reform -- was something I found particularly near-and-dear.

Like many applications, I didn't hear anything -- something I've come to expect; although, I do have plans to revisit many of these organizations in August, in a more ambitious marketing campaign (where I'll be marketing myself). In any event, then, last week, I got an email from the organization. They were going to be having a "recruiting open house" this past Tuesday -- the founders of the organization would be there. The email identified me as "as a highly qualified candidate for one of their open roles."

I had two quick reactions to this. First - I thought I should reach out to them and ensure it was "worth my while" to attend; second - I thought this was an amazing, innovative and unique opportunity (although, if multiple people were attending for the same role, it's a little 'gladiator'-like.

I then decided, the OLD Chris would call first; the NEW Chris would just show up, full of confidence, basically saying, "of course it's worth my while; because I'm clearly the best candidate for this role. And, thank you for noticing!"

I hopped on the website, printed out the job description for the director of communications and headed into NYC: $26 in train fare, and about six hours of my life (between train and event).

I arrived and made my way to the 11th floor. The elevator opened and I saw -- maybe -- about 40 people there. Not too many; but still more than I would've liked. I signed in and saw about 15 percent of the people had "communications" listed as their profession. Again, my confidence was strong. I knew I belonged there.

The founder (maybe 23-24 years old?) went through a brief synopsis of the organization and its beginnings; and then she introduced the interim director of talent to go through the open roles. One of those roles was a director of talent (because the current one has a full-time consulting gig; and was only 'helping' out here). She also discussed the director of finance, director of operations and the communications coordinator.

Huh?

So, after the intros, I headed to the founder. Introduced myself; gave a brief synopsis about my background, and explained I was there for the director of communications role (assuming the current director was -- like the talent director -- interim only).

"Oh, yes, we filled that position five days ago." she says. "Well, it's still on your site, as of today?" I inquired. "Yeah, we haven't had a chance to take it down."

I then asked, why was I even invited? Oh, well, we have the coordinator role that we think some of our candidates would be great fits for.

Wow.

I made my way to the talent director; because I wanted to speak with her (since she also works elsewhere). And relayed my story -- I even told her about my initial apprehension in coming, but, "Of course the role would still be open!" I said. "Why would an organization invite people to an event for a role that's not longer available? That would be appalling and complete organizational failure."

Even with this, I still took some positives from last evening. First, that I even just went, without couching my expectations first. Sure, it backfired; but it's still a sea change for me to do something like that.

In addition, I made a great contact. I noticed a gentleman with his own name badge there. His badge identified him as a communications professional; and the look on his face was exactly how I felt (although, I suspect I'm a better poker player, since I wasn't quite as evident!). When I spoke with him, my presumptions were confirmed -- like me, he had applied for the director role; his pedigree is probably even more impressive than my own. In no way would he be able (or willing) to take on a coordinator role.

We talked for a while there (and on the way back to Penn Station), and I think he'll become an outstanding connection. He has some great skills (in terms of job-seeking) as do I, and we figured we'd swap our 'systems' to help each other out. He also recommended I look into publishing my job-seeking system as an eBook, which could potentially help bring in some cash flow.

It's an interesting time for me. For some reason, I'm still *amazingly* positive; but I'm also completely undecided in what makes the most sense. My networking meetings have gone exceptionally well (and I still have many, many more to do).

Only one person, so far, has shown any resistance to meeting (which is incredibly odd, in my opinion); although many haven't responded yet. Fear not; if you're one of the ones who hasn't responded, you'll be getting another invitation from me in a few weeks!

But, the advice I've received has been all over the place. I guess that's what advice is ... it's up to the individual to parse it out and decide what makes sense.

I've been advised to:

• Start my own company as an internal communications consultant
• Partner with a friend to offer my services in conjunction with hers
• Become a career coach
• Publish eBooks on my job-seeking systems

And, this is only after a handful of networking meetings! The career coach is an exceptionally intriguing concept. I *love* helping people figure out what they want to do. I've created systems that are hands-on and practical (and not simply inspiring or general). And, I write a pretty damned good resume. In fact, my own resume will undergo a *massive* change, based on advice I've received from people so far.

Most importantly, I'm still positive. I know - even if I keep on my path - I have a good road ahead of me, with some really good ideas. I know I'm not looking for a 'job,' but for a career. And, I know the efforts I'm expending *will* pay off. I haven't always been positive this time around (unlike the last time, where I was almost exclusively positive), but I feel my old self coming back. I'm helping people, connecting people and making great connections myself. And, it only takes one ...


PS - I've now added "share" buttons (so, if you read something you like, you can share it on various social media sites) and -- for the RSS-feed resistant among us, I've now added a "subscribe via email" form, so you can be updated via email whenever a new post is made!

New Readers and Upcoming Highlights

In the past two weeks, this blog has really gotten some legs, apparently. People in my network have been sharing the posts and I've gotten a lot of new readers.

It's tempting to say blogs are already passe; but the truth is, there are very few channels that allow for such long form conversation *and* interaction (especially in this day of Twitter, where messages fly back and forth rapid fire, but with no more than 140 characters).

So, if you're a new reader -- welcome. This blog has gone through a lot of iterations. It's focused on jobseeking, customer service, guitar solos and American Idol voting. But, it's always been true to the title of the blog.

Now -- following a blog isn't that tough (but it will be tough for the next week or so). For those who don't know, blogs use a subscription service (known as RSS), which enable individuals to subscribe to content and have it delivered to them (almost like email, but less intrusively).

One of the reasons I chose this platform is because the RSS engine is built in; so -- in your browser, if you want to stay current, simply subscribe to the RSS feed, and each time I post something, you'll know about it.

The reason I say it'll be a little touch-and-go for the next week is that the RSS world is undergoing some massive changes. The leader -- Google Reader -- is being retired next Monday; and a host of new replacements (all with some positive and negative characteristics, in comparison) are waiting to take over. I've been doing a lot of research on this (because I use RSS feeds pretty heavily to keep up with internet content), and almost certainly, my next post (this week) will consist of my findings and my recommendation for a replacement.

In the meantime, if you're new -- look around; kick the tires ... you can skip most of April and May's posts (which dealt with an ambitious guitar solo tournament). Interestingly, this morning, I was thinking I should do something special for my 100th post (and then, I realized my 100th post had come and gone already). Terrified, I wanted to ensure it wasn't something like the third round of the guitar solo tournament; but it wasn't. Instead, it was a piece bemoaning the fact that I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. If you're new -- and all you've read are the past two posts (on networking and LinkedIn), that 100th post is a good place to start.

Welcome, again!

Why Do You Have So Many LinkedIn Connections? (aka, The Art of the Referral)

Most job seekers know it's important to be active on LinkedIn. The networking site provides a wealth of information and opportunity (that is valuable all the time, but especially when you're in the market for a new job).

But, I think some people don't really know how to use it effectively.

Let me preface this, by saying - this doesn't apply to recruiters. Recruiters have a different purpose on LinkedIn, and they need to be able to see as many full profiles as they can. Because of LinkedIn's policies (that you can only see full profiles of your second degree connections), it's nearly imperative that recruiters make as many connections as they can; so they can better see full profiles of potential candidates.

Everyone else, though, I think is missing the boat.

Each week, when I send out resumes, I head to LinkedIn to check out which companies I may be connected to. I'm only looking at second-degree connections -- that indicates someone who shares a mutual connection with me. I'll then email my connection and ask them if they wouldn't mind recommending me to their connection.

A lot of times, I get back a response of, "Yeah, I don't really know that person."

And, this confuses me. Why would you be connected to someone that you don't really know? And, far more importantly, what's the purpose overall? You're certainly not getting anything out of that relationship.

Last week, I went through my LinkedIn connections. I have more than 500. Some I realized were recruiters -- those are necessary, even though I don't know them as well. I need to see when they're posting jobs. The remainder were people I knew well, and people I didn't know well. Rather than chalking up the people I didn't know well, I emailed them, one-by-one. I said, "We don't know each other very well; and that should change. We're connected on LinkedIn (I don't always remember who reached out to whom), but, in all honesty, if we don't form a relationship, the connection is useless. For me, right now, I'm looking for work. I don't expect you to have a position for me; but it's far more likely you'll know someone who might. And, I cannot expect you to recommend me, if you don't actually know me."

Some have responded already, and I've had a handful of sitdowns and phone conversations. To me, this is more valuable than "growing" my network; I'm fortifying it.

And, I think my connections recognize this value as well -- after all, what purpose do I have to them, if I don't know them really well? So, it's win/win.

I'm not someone who gets into having thousands and thousands of connections. I'd far rather have 500 really strong connections who have strong bonds with their connections. By extension, *I* have strong bonds (because, a connection who's willing to recommend you is someone that can be that vital liaison for you).

And that brings us to the referral.

My last post discussed the need for a networking wingman, and, in truth, a referral/recommendation is just an extension of that. Honestly, if you were looking to hire someone, which approach would impress you more?

1 - a candidate approaches you at a networking event (or online) and tells you he's awesome and you should really get to know him, because he'll help out your business, immensely.
2 - someone you trust approaches you at a networking event (or online) and tells you about an awesome individual you should get to know, because he'll help out your business, immensely.

If anyone DIDN'T say #2, I'd be amazed. We trust the people we trust, and we expect them to give us good advice (and we're more willing to take a chance on their advice). The same candidate (as above) is perceived differently, depending upon the way they're introduced.

So, when I ask people to make the referral for me, I'm basically asking them to do something I'd be happy to do for them.

"Hi Bob, so a friend of mine is really interested in working with your company. He's an award-winning communications executive, and he's got a great track record of helping companies reach goals -- both internally (he's increased employee engagement and morale and trust) and externally through press releases, getting his companies more well-known. He's bright, he immerses himself in the company (so he can be even more useful than just in communications functions -- he's worked in organization development and efficiencies) and he's been a valued and trusted confidant to the CEO of a company. Maybe even as importantly, he's friendly and really funny ... he's a great fit for your organization."

And, Bob, is almost certainly going to want to meet me, because *his* trusted friend/source/colleague has just done the most awesome networking wingman/referral one could hope for.

Think about your own contacts on LinkedIn, and then ask yourself -- which of your connections could you writing something like that about? And, which of your connections could you send that referral to? Because, if you can't write about a connection and you don't know a connection well enough to make the referral, why are they a connection? I don't care if you have 13,000 connections -- I'll always take the 500 quality connections.

And, if *I'M* connected to you, and you don't feel comfortable writing something like that about me; reach out to me. We clearly need to "fortify" our LinkedIn relationship.

Needed: Networking Wingman

People don't believe me when I tell them I'm an introvert. Most people say, "oh, you're so outgoing and talkative" -- and, maybe when I know someone, I can appear that way.

But, compare me to any successful salesperson, and you see how much less extroverted I am; especially when it comes to talking about myself (or, more to the point, talking about something else, with the *goal* of talking about myself).

Now, this has not been an issue in my career -- in journalism, editorial and communications, the ability to ask good questions and listen (and *not* talk about yourself) is key. But, when it comes to job-seeking, there's no alternative. You can't be modest; and you can't be shy. And, when it comes to networking, it's even more important that you be skilled in small talk. And, for someone who doesn't like talking about himself, that's difficult.

So, I took out a book from the library: "Networking for People Who Hate Networking," thinking it would provide some nugget of information that would clear up this uncomfortability. Sure enough, they described the exact scenarios we all despise -- you've just walked into a cocktail hour and everyone is chatting; how do you get involved in the conversation?

The solution, according to the author? "Just Do It." Well, that's not the revolutionary concept I was hoping for.

Then, I started thinking -- what could make the situation less painful? And, I thought about one of my favorite TV shows, "How I Met Your Mother."

Now, obviously, a successful 'introduction' is usually done with a little more thought and build-up, but in truth, what is more powerful than a strong introduction done by a trusted source? And, I realized: I need a networking wingman.

One of my Three Laws of Business^TM (a post I may make sometime in the future), is that nearly everything in life comes down to two questions:

1. What can/will this do for me?
2. How much will it cost me?

A job I had a while back used to say they'd never let an exceptional candidate leave without an offer, even if they didn't have a position for them at that moment. That mentality led to pretty strong growth for about five consecutive years (with the recession finally slamming the lid on both the growth and the practice); but it made a lot of sense. They evaluated each candidate based on those above questions -- and, if the net outcome made sense, they hired the person.

I've been fortunate, with my last two roles, to have had the opportunity to discuss what I can offer to a company in meetings with the company executives. In both cases, I was probably ahead of my time, unfortunately.

Not every company is ready for someone with my energy and ideas. Some prefer to keep things "the way they've always been done" because it's worked in the past. It remains to be seen if this is a wise choice, but I think the past five years have shown that "doing things the way they've always been done" more than likely ends badly. The world is littered with failed companies that once were quite successful that were incredibly resistant to change.

My suggestions are pretty liberal -- from an internal communications perspective, I'm a huge proponent of using social media/web 2.0 inside the enterprise, resulting in better knowledge management and employee engagement. I'm also equally adept from an external communications perspective. When I've been able to do things, the outcomes have been significant (including increasing the level of trust and morale in an organization by more than 10 percent in one year -- and that happened at each of my last two companies).

I don't say this to boast (as I mentioned above, I really don't enjoy talking about myself). I do this to explain who I am, for the purposes of my prospective networking wingman.

I'm looking for someone who's already accomplished in his/her line of work *and* who is well-connected *and* who also thinks I'm worth the effort -- and that is truly a powerful combination. Once I have that introduction; once they've already piqued the interest in someone, to get them  curious as to how I can help their business excel, I can speak comfortably and confidently about my abilities.


I'm currently accepting applications for this role. :)

I Still Don't Know What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

I've certainly said this before. In so many ways, I'm quite jealous of my wife. From a young age, she knew what she wanted to be, professionally, in her life (a nurse). She pursued that career and became one of the best. She's succeeded everywhere she's been, and she's been routinely promoted due to her exceptional skills.

I've not had a similar experience.

When I was very young (and I don't mean young like, "I want to be an astronaut" or "I want to be the third-baseman for the Yankees."), I mean younger than I am now -- but old enough to be aware of what a career is, I wanted to be a sabermetrician.

Interestingly, today, that wouldn't be met with as much skepticism as it was back then. Now, with films like Moneyball, and the public awareness of pioneers like Bill James, it's a viable career (albeit, still a difficult one to break into). But, in the 1980s, no one knew what I was talking about.

While I was in ninth grade, I participated in an independent study project, in which I decided I was going to write a book, similar to James' seminal "Baseball Abstract" works. In my research, I reached out to James (but he refused to take my calls). I did, however, make a great connection with Craig Wright, who became a pretty influential force for a year.

As an aside, I should mention, throughout this time, my *dream* was to work in sports; in many ways, working as a statistician for the Elias Sports Bureau was my perfect setting. It combined my fascination with statistics and sports into one nice little box.

But, in one discussion with Craig Wright, my entire career trajectory changed. I asked him what courses I needed to focus on, so I could do what he was going as a career. I assumed he'd say Statistics or some mathematics course (or, even an accounting course). Instead, without hesitation, he said, "English." When I questioned him (to ensure he understood what I was asking) he responded, "If you cannot effectively communicate your findings, it's as good as never having done them." Wow.

I marched out of the library (where I'd phoned him) and headed to the Journalism teacher's office, and signed up to be a sports reporter for the high school paper. I continued with that vision throughout college, eventually taking over as editor-in-chief (despite the fact that I never wanted to do anything but write about sports). And then, on my "exit interview" from college, my faculty advisor outlined what I could expect, salary-wise, from my career. And I decided I wanted more.

I don't begrudge anyone who's followed their dream -- a good friend of mine definitely took the long road; working for small weekly and daily papers, before finally becoming a major player in the sports journalism world. For me, I didn't have that patience.

And, so I ended up in magazine journalism. I worked in several industries for my first publishing company: woodworking, plastics formulation and finally, janitorial product distribution. I devoted myself to the magazines, ultimately becoming the youngest editor-in-chief the company had (although, subsequently, younger editors have certainly been in place). I was a "shining, rising star."

Ultimately, power went to the head of my editorial director (who had actually been a friend at one time) and in a capricious move, we had a parting of the ways (in related news, the magazine, which I'd helped dramatically increase advertising revenue through a new approach, had folded less than two years later). I headed into NYC where I took the lead role of a start-up magazine on the commercial shallow-draft maritime industry and helped it become profitable.

Again, hungry for more, I left that role and took over the lead editor role of a magazine about lighting design, helping that magazine turn a profit for the first time in several years. Sadly, 9/11 then happened, and our discussions about reducing staff became a more pressing matter. Rather than eliminating lower-level editorial staff; the decision was made to cut from the top, and I was gone.

At this point, I decided print journalism wasn't really for me any longer. I'd done a great deal -- accomplished a lot, and succeeded at every level. I headed to graduate school to become an English teacher, but realized my heart wasn't in it (and, unlike the previous industries, where I could still be extremely successful without *loving* the industry, I felt it was imperative to be passionate about teaching).

I started with a company in their marketing department and then found a growing need for internal communications and operational efficiency in the company. I put together a comprehensive job description and pitched the role *and* myself to the higher-ups at the company, ultimately being named to the role, and eventually winning an award for my communications strategy and plans.

Much like the last job I recently held, this was a new position. It was a role that was totally unfamiliar to most of the company, which didn't recognize how important the role should be (and how successful companies use this role). Consequently, more of my day was spent evangelizing and justifying my existence, as compared to actually *doing* the vital work. This is a taxing existence.

Part of it was a hesitation for "something new" (but, of course, we all know how that story ends ... companies that don't want to change, well, end up closed, eventually ... especially in today's economy which is more fluid than ever before ... hell, Google doesn't even have a 5-year plan. I remember reading that they don't plan more than 3-6 months, in fact.

The other difficulty was a lack of planning -- this type of role requires access to executives (my first week, the CFO idly said, "perhaps you should be in our executive meetings" ... two years later, I was still awaiting an invite). It also requires one of two approaches:

1. The freedom to do what I think is necessary and support of the higher-ups to accomplish those goals.
2. Definitive tasks as established by the executives (in other words, nothing as vague as "change the culture" - far more specified tasks.

I did learn quite a bit about myself and my abilities. The CEO certainly considered me a valued counselor; not only in matters of communications, but in matters of business importance as well. I regret that I didn't have as much opportunity as I thought I had, because I think we could have done great, great things there; but again, the lack of a cohesive plan (and the fickleness of our economy) didn't provide that.

Where does that leave me? I have time, now, to analyze things (and I'm certainly no closer). Do I move to Canada (where my wife's family lives) and think "Oh, they'll be ecstatic to hire me, because I'll come with NY credibility" (sometimes, life needs a drastic reboot -- I did this when I left high school and headed to college, and I never looked back).

The one negative (that is still prevalent today) is the tendency of companies to not look at "what *can* you do" but rather at "what *have* you done." Worse still, this isn't even a reflection of skills, necessarily; but rather, the industry where you've worked. I've had more than a few companies/recruiters consider me to not be a valid candidate *solely* based on the companies I've worked for (even though my responsibilities were exact matches for the positions for which they were recruiting). Again -- companies that aren't willing to look at potential and change and doing things slightly differently than they've done in the past, aren't really sticking around as much.

I'm still optimistic though; and I'm still well aware that it only takes *one* yes; one progressive company that sees my skills, traits and abilities and says, "Please do for us what you've done your entire career." I'm ready.

The Joys of Job Seeking

I have to confess. Not everything about job-seeking is awful. There's a certain amount of excitement that goes into checking out jobs and seeing how well you match up with them, and visualizing yourself working for that company.

But, sometimes, it's a little less enjoyable.

I'm not just talking about those positions that you're summarily rejected for -- even though you match up completely with the duties, you still don't even get an interview. In one case, I was told, "You haven't worked for a large company." So, I explained, I've been an editor of magazines with readerships near 70,000, and I was writing on a monthly basis. To which, the response was, "yes, but that wasn't communication." Huh?

(I've decided to simply write off companies like that ... there are companies that will look at what you *can* do for them; and companies that only want to see what you *have* done for others. I suspect, we'll see far fewer of the latter, as they go out of business. Today's marketplace doesn't reward standing still.

It's like dating. If a girl asks, "What kind of car do you drive?" and you say, "Yes, I have a car." and she asks, again, "OK, but what kind of car *is* it?" She's probably not the right girl.)


Tuesday was a pretty good day for me -- I got three phone calls for prospective jobs. One was for today (Thursday); one will happen in a couple of weeks; one was a preliminary phone screen.

I was excited about the position today; but predominantly because it was so close to my home. In fact, I hadn't even applied for the role yet (it was on my list to apply). The HR Director had found me through a resume search online. As I read through the role, I realized that the position title (manager of corporate communications) was a bit misleading -- this was a pretty hardcore marketing job. Still, I did some other research and saw some opportunity so I headed to the interview.

We began talking about my background; good conversational pace. Things were going well. We talked about my previous positions, and I outlined my accomplishments, my strengths and what I bring to the table. And then, she started asking about marketing responsibilities.

The long and short of it is that they weren't looking for a manager of corporate communications. They were looking for a marketing director. But, even more interesting, they weren't looking for just a strategic marketing director -- they also wanted someone who was an expert graphic designer. And a world-class writer. And who could manage the company intranet. And handle trade show responsibilities. And manage/update the company's internet pages.

She realized I wasn't the right candidate for this Superman-type position (I don't really know *anyone* who would be able to do all these tasks), and she apologized for wasting my time.

A few thoughts on this:

1. The company is larger than either of my previous two companies (my last two companies -- at their largest -- were about 160 and 250 people respectively. This company has more than 300 employees). The marketing and communications departments at those previous companies totaled 10 and 15 respectively. At this company, the department was comprised of ONE person.
2. I explained that they were looking for at least two people, probably more, because of the varied skills they were looking for. She seemed non-plussed by this.
3. I then asked who handled their internal communications functions. A company of 300+ surely had need of that. She explained those responsibilities were *also* handled by this position (at this point, I think I may have wondered if the company provided a boxspring and mattress for the person to simply reside in the building). I explained how internal communications is a vital part of the business; and -- having checked out the company on Glassdoor and Indeed, there surely was a need (comments there were somewhat damning of the company culture). I also discussed the company website (they're a b2b company with ZERO interaction with the public/consumers. In my opinion, the only thing that should be on the website is a company history, contacts and a way for prospective employees to learn about the culture (without having to head to Glassdoor). She sat there and nodded at me; but never commented nor did she ask me for more information. Again, this is the HR director - the person who should be most concerned with employee engagement, morale and securing the best possible workers for her company.
4. Finally, and most puzzling. This person searched for my resume, found it, and called me! Nowhere on my resume does it intimate that I'm skilled in marketing, let alone graphic design work. Why was I even called in? I explained she should change the title to "Marketing Director" - not simply because it's unfair to communications professionals who might apply; but, quite honestly, because the people she DOES want to have apply, won't be applying when the title is "manager of corporate communications." Those are two completely different skillsets. I received a blank stare back, to that suggestion.

I'm not disappointed. The culture of the company seemed to not be a good fit (on their reception window, is a sign proclaiming they have a "No friends or family" policy. I inquired as to what that was, and I was told -- if you know anyone who works there; you will not be hired. If you *do* work there; you are not able to recruit people to come work there.

So, basically, *everything* I preach about creating an engaged workforce would have been like Kryponite to this organization. Yes, it would have been nice to work so close to home; but it's far nicer to have a job that offers challenges that are at least surmountable. I don't have any interest in being set up to fail at a company. I've been down that road, and it's far from fun.

Double Shot: Customer Service Oops and Grudge, Much?

As many of you know, I had knee surgery last November. Minor stuff - meniscus; but still, it takes some rehab to get back to 100 percent.

So, my health insurance doles out a specific number of visits, and -- when those run out, the physical therapist has to petition for more.

The latest petition was denied (which is something I had expected). However, what makes it so amusing was the correspondence, I received back from them.
At the bottom of the letter, was an explanation for the decision.

Your request for additional visits has been denied, for the following reasons:
1. Your pain level is severe
2. You are experiencing improvement through continued physical therapy visits
3. You have reached the maximum amount of visits allowed through our plan.

These factors were considered in arriving at this decision.

Really?

So, the fact that I'm still in pain *and* I'm getting better, is the reason for the denial? Why even put those things in there? Just simply say, "If you continue to go to physical therapy, we will stop being profitable in your case; so we're going to just cut you off now."

There are few things more annoying than others having the expectation that you're stupid.

******************

Many years ago, I worked as an editor in the trade publishing field. In fact, at the time, I was the youngest editor ever named to the highest post of a magazine (although, I know at least one person beat my record).

In any event, I ended up being let go from the company, for what was, quite honestly, an extremely capricious reason. I ended up taking on another start-up magazine, made it quite profitable; left for another magazine, and then found my way into corporate/internal communications, where I've actually won awards for my work.

So, effectively, being let go was a pretty good thing, in retrospect. I enjoyed the company; liked many of the people, so I definitely would not have been looking for other opportunities. 

Fast forward to today, and many of the people I worked with, who never wandered away from the company, are out of work; their only marketable skills are from being a trade magazine editor and writer. So, again, in retrospect, I'm happy; even relieved; that I moved on.

On Thursday, I was at the Department of Labor, taking a class, and who should walk in but my former supervisor (who also had been a friend of mine at the time). We haven't spoken since that day, 16 years ago. I recognized him instantly. I cannot imagine he didn't recognize me.

The course ended, and he took off ... literally. The second the class was over he was the first one up and the first one out the door. I followed a few minutes later, and caught sight of him leaving the restroom and even a little later, after he'd meandered through the building a few minutes. I was curious if he'd approach me, but he seemed intent on avoiding me at all costs.

I ended up walking out behind him, and I felt like a hunter tracking a wounded deer; and I felt sorry for him (which is probably why I don't hunt). I easily could've called out, "Mark!" and forced the issue; but I elected to let him walk away.

I sent him a message here on Facebook afterwards, saying -- maybe he didn't recognize me; but, in my eyes, bygones were just that. If he wanted to exchange contacts, etc. - I was cool with that; and I invited him to my presentations next week on job seeking. No response.

And, then I thought to myself; how incredible sad is this. By all accounts, *I* was the one who was wronged. I was the one who was let go without cause. And yet, SIXTEEN YEARS later, he's still the one carrying a grudge? And, rather than being mad or angered, I found myself pitying him quite a bit.

If there's anyone out there with whom I haven't spoken for 16 years, due to a perceived slight; seriously, email me .... life is too short to hold a grudge that long (and, it's hard work, too).

On the other hand, if it's only been 15 years, don't bother me til next year.

A Culture of Convenience

Now that I'm back on the job market (you can read the full announcement here, if you didn't see it already), I've been doing quite a bit of thinking about the type of company I want to work with. That has led to an analysis of what types of companies even exist today.

Lloyd Dobler, in Say Anything, said, "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."

My own variation now, is I don't want to work in an unstable industry. I realize in today's market, that's a near-impossibility; but I think there are some warning signs I've learned.

My second-to-last job was with a window and door distributor. The company distributed luxury products, and -- when the recession hit, harder and faster than anyone expected -- business dried up. In fact, they really haven't even fully recovered. People's priorities changed, and suddenly, buying a world-class luxury window wasn't nearly as important as it was in 2005.

The company had experienced meteoric growth, prior to that. And, to be sure, they were absolutely identified as experts in their field ... the salespeople and support personnel were among the most knowledgeable in the industry.

But, all they sold were windows and doors (eventually the product line opened up a little bit), and -- when a recession hits -- people are looking at one-stop shopping more than anything.

Think about it: If you wanted to make a sandwich, but you had to go to a bakery to buy the roll; a deli to buy the coldcuts; a farmstand for the produce/veggies; and a grocery store for the condiments ... or, you could go to a WalMart and get everything (albeit the roll, coldcuts and veggies were *guaranteed* to not be as fresh or tasty if you'd purchased them separately), which would you do? Most of us, I submit, would head to WalMart (or, quite possibly, Subway, instead), sacrificing quality for convenience.

So, now we head to my most recent position, with an educational technology distributor (again, with the distributors!). Unlike the previous company, this company had a value-add built in to the product offering. Since the technology was so new (and was being sold to school districts, nearly exclusively), the company offered a world-renowned professional development program, to help instruct teachers on the use of the equipment (initially; this eventually increased into become trusted partners with teachers with a goal of improving the quality of teaching, in general).

Sounds good, right? We have the one-stop shop. The district doesn't need to purchase the equipment from one company and then seek out training elsewhere. We've appeased that culture of convenience (and, best of all, the training really was the best around, and the pricing on the hardware was certainly competitive).

One catch. As a distributor, you're almost always at the mercy of the manufacturer and the vendor controls the pricing. So - if for example - you're accustomed to selling Equipment Piece A for $100 to the marketplace, and you're paying $75 for it to the vendor; and the manufacturer decides to raise the price to $85, you have a choice to make: Do you pass that increase on to the customer (up to $110) and risk them going elsewhere (even if they love your training program -- and, worse yet -- since we already discussed above with the sandwich metaphor, maybe they take *all* their business with them!); or do you eat the increase and see your profit margin suffer?

Tough choice. And, suddenly, things are unstable.

As a jobseeker, this is the type of industry I'm now leery of. Knowing consumers are so interested in the one-stop shop mentality; that culture of convenience that's been bred into us; it's imperative for companies to be able to satisfy that desire. But, it's equally important for a company to control its own destiny. Do any such companies exist? I'm not entirely sure. Look at Apple - certainly they're a consumer favorite; but do they really control their own destiny? Could any of their suppliers suddenly raise the rates on their materials? Or, is Apple so much the 800-lb gorilla that no vendor would dare do that?

Are there any companies that are truly "stable" today?

What to do ... what to do ....

Hello again.

So, it's been a while since I've posted anything. 2012 has not been a great-fun year ... you can read back over my posts if you're not familiar with the circumstances (in short: my mom's passing, two surgeries, and a few other inconveniences that comprised my crap cake).

This blog originally started as a way for me to continue to keep up with writing, while I was unemployed. In fact, two years ago -- November 2010 -- I participated in NaBloWriMo (National Blog Writing Month), where each day I posted one story. At the time, since I wasn't working, this was my primary outlet for writing, and I used it pretty frequently.

When I started working again in 2011, my posting frequency dropped off ... why would someone who writes for a living (effectively) want to write in his spare time?


So, a few weeks ago, I had to wonder ... what is the purpose of this blog? For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, you know that I'm not someone who posts random stuff there, necessarily ... my posts tend to be (1) informative, because Facebook is the quickest, easiest way to engage my friends in social media (as compared to emailing all of them separately, and having their responses in isolation); and (2) funny. Why should this blog be any different?

There are a few things I'm passionate about in life. One (which does make for good blog fodder) is customer service. I am continually amazed ... amazed ... by what passes for that these days. I've never been involved in customer service, directly, as a profession (although, I've been involved in training on it); but I also knew it wasn't my calling. I'm a firm believer that in today's commerce world, with online stores hammering away at price, the ONLY differentiating factor a company can offer is exceptional service. Too few get that.

In the past few weeks, before the hurricane, I had the opportunity to visit two 'restaurants' - 34 New (in Huntington, during Huntington Restaurant Week) and California Diner (in Patchogue). Both had remarkably poor service -- in the first case, they readily admitted they weren't prepared for large crowds due to Restaurant Week (mind you, the restaurant was *about* half-full ... I wouldn't rush there; if they aren't prepared to be half-full, I doubt they'll be successful). In the latter's case, *everything* was a surcharge ... you want a bread basket? $3 ... you want a refill of your unsweetened iced tea? full price.

So, initially, I was going to blog about the service there. But, then the hurricane hit. Between LIPA and Cablevision, new achievements were reached in poor service.

LIPA started by calling my cell phone the day after the hurricane and informing me (through automated message) that I would have my service back by noon that day. I was amazingly impressed -- this was a punishing storm, and there were nearly a million people out of service; what had I done to warrant such care? Ultimately, that wasn't true ... and when I called to inquire, they had no knowledge the call had gone out (one operator told me I had been mistaken). By Thursday of last week, the outage map was completely useless, except for the phone numbers at the top -- calling the 800 number took you to an automated center; but calling the local number provided you with the option to speak to a live person! So, I would call and politely (really!) inquire about an ETA (since the outage map didn't provide those; all ETAs were "being evaluated").

And, on Thursday, they rerouted the local number to the 800 number, so you no longer had the option of speaking to a live person ... awesome, LIPA! This is clearly the new, more transparent communication you were promising, yes?

*****************************

I don't know how much I'll be blogging still ... As I said, it's tough for writers to want to write in their spare time. But, I do think blogs need a focus; a purpose. And, hopefully, this can be this blog's purpose. It won't be a mish-mosh of topics, as it has been in the past.

With that, I just got notice of a delayed opening for my job today; so that provides me with an unexpected additional two hours where I can sit in a gas line! Joy of joys!

62 Days ....

My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today. – Watership Down

It’s been about two months since my mom passed away. I can honestly say, not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about her.

I know I haven’t dealt with the matter yet. I’ve done a positively fantastic job of suppressing my emotions and just pushing through my days; but I’m always aware of a weight; something not quite painful, but extremely noticeable, that seems to plague me.

The old mantra is true – you really don’t know what you have until it’s gone. And, in my case, I’m sure it’s amplified by the birth of my son. It pains me that he’ll never get to know her. It pains me that she never really got to see him smile or launch into one of his uber-contagious laughing fits; which has really only started in the past few months.

As a child, I was a big fan of  “Choose Your Own Adventure” books – the books where you could make a choice and see the result (a great learning tool). Unfortunately, it tricks you into thinking that the whole world qualifies for a do-over; and nothing is further from the truth.

I don’t mean to be such a downer; and I certainly don’t plan on having every blog post be nearly as depressing. I suppose it *has* gotten easier, in that time has passed; but, unlike the days immediately following, where there was pressure to complete activities required for the wakes and funeral; all that’s left now is memory … and something that isn’t quite regret.

I know my thoughts are selfish. I recognize that her road to recovery was certain to be difficult, if not impossible; and certainly painful. And, from a merciful standpoint, her immediate and sudden passing was almost certainly for the best. But, I’m also quite aware of the strong and powerful love she had for her family; and her grandchildren, even more specifically. And, I’m positive she would have willingly endured the struggle for each additional day she could have spent with them. It’s hard to reconcile what was “best” for her with what we think she would have wanted.

I know I need to deal with this … someone told me they were surprised that after the events of the past few years (unemployment, failed adoption, numerous life-threatening situations with my wife, my mom’s passing, my grandmother’s passing) that I didn’t have some form of PTSD. I suppose that’s realistic.

Part of my difficulty, of course (and where I differ from my wife, for example) is her spirituality. I like to consider myself spiritual; but I’m also driven by logic. When you see, for example, the sprawling … universe (or whatever that would be called) with millions and billions of stars and solar systems … you get a feeling for how tiny and insignificant you are.

But, I can honestly say, I pray that she has found the peace she craved, and that she still feels connected with her family (and that she’s part of our lives – so, even today, while my youngest sister is in labor, my mom isn’t “missing” it). In many ways, the closing lines of the book I quoted above (Watership Down) most effectively sum up my hopes – still incredibly sad; but positive, given the circumstances.

Black Rabbit: Hazel... Hazel... you know me, don't you?

Hazel: Yes, my lord. I know you.

Black Rabbit: I've come to ask if you'd like to join my Owsla. We shall be glad to have you, and I know you'd like it. You've been feeling tired, haven't you? If you're ready, we might go along now.

[Hazel looks at all the younger rabbits of Watership Down]

Black Rabbit: You needn't worry about them. They'll be all right, and thousands like them. If you come along now, I'll show you what I mean.”

He reached the top of the bank in a single, powerful leap. Hazel followed; and together they slipped away, running easily down through the wood, where the first primroses were beginning to bloom.

Mom

My mom passed away a week ago.

It's still surreal to write that. I feel like I'm talking about someone else, when I read it. My mom was never supposed to pass away. We'd had a good, symbiotic relationship. She would call me every so often and complain that I didn't call her enough; and I would explain to her that we had the rest of our lives – there was no urgency.

I guess that was wrong.

The past week has been a complete blur. My mom had gone to the emergency room last Friday, although the situation was far from dire. True, she suffered from pulmonary hypertension, emphysema and COPD (the latter two, almost certainly linked back to years of smoking); but the past few weeks, she'd gotten progressively (and rapidly) worse. She went to the ER, primarily to get acute care; but even during the day, I was texting my wife (who works in the hospital) to see if it was necessary for me to come there – no one thought it was. She needed oxygen and rest (and what better place than a hospital).

My wife and I actually attended a party that evening. And we arrived home around midnight. My wife called the ER, and found that they were moving my mom – not to ICU (as we'd suspected), but to a lower unit. Good news all around.

An hour later, my sister called with the news. She'd simply passed away. And, even now, there's no rhyme or reason. Every doctor was shocked. Yes, she was sick (and, almost certainly, she had a long road ahead of her – the cat scan had showed other issues that hadn't been seen before). But, still, the suddenness was shocking. I'm still in shock.

From that hour (1am on Saturday morning) until now, I've run through a gamut of emotions. I don't really even know what day it is. Plans and arrangements had to be made. People needed to be notified. In just a few days, my life was turned upside down and violently shaken like a toddler with a snow globe. The days were a combination of exhaustion and distractions. I slept for hours (because, at least when I was asleep, I didn't have to be thinking).

And, suddenly, the distractions were gone. All that's left is the mourning and emptiness. And one word: "Never" - which is now completely synonymous with my mom. I'll never see her again. I'll never speak with her again. I'll never laugh with her again. I'll never be annoyed with her again.

I'm still raw. I sit for hours with my laptop and I do nothing. I accomplish nothing. For those who know me; well, that's really not me.

I put on a good show this week. I smiled and laughed with people, but the word "Never" hadn't sunk in yet. I know the next few days ... weeks ... months ... years ... will be changed forever now.

Interestingly, my recent transformation into a father had been instrumental in changing my relationship with my mom. As an example, for years, my mom (and the rest of my family) would go to an Easter play ... she'd ask my wife and I, and we always declined ... wasn't our thing. This year, I thought how much it would mean to me if my son would willingly do things with me that I wanted to do, just because I asked him; and that changed my perception. So we went. I'm very happy we did (not because the show was great; just because it really was the right thing to do).

I still believe that I need to be strong for others. During the wake and funeral, it was others' emotions that most moved me. Seeing my family hurting caused me to feel even worse. In fact, for most of the week, I was upset that I wasn't more upset. It was my family's emotions that caused me to feel sorrow.

And, then last night, for no reason, I broke into a crying fit. I told my wife I wanted to videotape interviews with all our relatives. I wanted to get video of my mom so my son will be able to build memories of her. And, I told her I wanted to make sure my son was a better son than I was. And that was it. Cue the waterworks. Exit stage left.

Obviously, the wake and funeral was a blur of emotions. My current friends, oldest friends, ex-friends, current co-workers; previous bosses – even my ex-wife showed up to pay respects ... it certainly continued the surreal feeling of the week.

And, on the last night, I gave a speech; a tribute to my mom.  It wasn't nearly as emotional as I feel now (I had days to write it, rewrite it and edit it). And, I thought I wanted it to sound as though it came from the elder statesman of the family. If I could do it over, I probably would change some things; but, I wanted to include it here.

On behalf of my entire family – my father, my sisters and their families, my aunts and my cousins, I want to thank you all for coming to pay your respects and provide support during this exceptionally difficult time.

When we were writing out the information for my mom’s obituary, the funeral director asked what her profession was. And, I answered, “mother.” She certainly had jobs – as a realtor and working for the county, later in life; but I think she would’ve liked to think her career (and what she’d be most remembered for) was as a mother.

She was a strong, passionate woman, who sought out causes to be an advocate. For many of us, the clearest example is when she formed PEGAT (the Parents and Educators for the Gifted and Talented organization), which almost certainly is her shining accomplishment. She founded the group because she felt the school district was ill-prepared to embark on this new initiative, and she wanted to ensure the parents (and teachers) were on the same page. For nine consecutive years, she led the organization, as it became – arguably – the largest and most involved PTA in the district and, almost certainly, the most progressive gifted and talented advocacy group on Long Island.

And, when I graduated from the district, she stepped down as president. It was never about the prestige or the power, for her; it was always about her children. Once her children were no longer involved in the program, her involvement was no longer necessary.

I remember asking her, years later, if it bothered her that while the organization continued, there was no homage paid to her for her hard work and the guiding principles she established, and – not surprisingly, she said no. It was never about that for her; it only was about ensuring her children benefited from the program, and whatever she could do to facilitate that was her only objective.

When her children grew, her energies led her in new directions. She was a woman who sought out purpose in life and causes to support. She became the primary caregiver for my grandmother, until she needed to be placed in an adult home. And when that happened, she formed and ran a patient advocacy program at the Good Samaritan Nursing Home in Sayville. Eventually she was a board member and volunteer with the Sayville Cabinet for the Sick and she volunteered with the Sayville Food Pantry as well.

And, sadly, in the past few years, none of us, including her, recognized that the cause she should most have been championing, was herself.

But, she would say all of these accomplishments were ancillary; because, as I said before, her top goal was to provide for her children and ensure their happiness. When we were young, she volunteered as a cub scout and girl scout leader, and she never tired of coming up with ways to make our childhood a happier time.

I can still recall being quite young and being fascinated with dinosaurs. She set up a birthday party where my friends were blindfolded and led through a museum of dinosaur artifacts she had created … there were peeled grapes, which were the dinosaurs’ eyes; and cooked spaghetti which was the dinosaurs’ veins. This was just one example of the type of mom she was. All she needed was an inkling of her children’s interests, and she was off and running with creative, engaging ideas.

She always wanted to be the house where people met. She took pride in being the destination, not only for family; but for friends. No doubt, the number of people who felt the touch of her hospitality and her generosity is almost uncountable.

Interestingly, through social networking, over the past few years, I’ve been fortunate to reconnect with countless friends and relatives from my youth, and each time I’ve connected, they shared their extremely fond memories of my mom (when I connected with one of my cousins; the first thing she remembered was how she would come to our house after school and eat frozen ding-dongs, which was the afterschool snack my mom would serve). Obviously, since her passing, those stories have just multiplied exponentially. It’s extremely comforting and I really think she’d be contented to know that her legacy and memories were so rich and warm.

I don’t want this to be entirely sad. And, more importantly, she wouldn’t want that either. I sat my eight-month old son down yesterday and explained to him, “It’s a good thing you don’t understand pressure; because there’s a lot of it on you now. The next three days, you have but one job – your job is to make people smile.” And he looked at me, and moved his bowels; which I assumed meant he understood (since that’s normally the way I acknowledge people).

One of the things people loved about my mom was her sense of humor. And, she was comfortable with – maybe she even preferred -- self-deprecating humor.

For example, even as technology evolved, she continued to use her antiquated devices; even through her family purchased newer items for her. At Christmas, one of her grandchildren might be doing something cute, and we’d all grab our smartphones to start shooting video; while she’d be struggling to load a VHS tape into the 1987 camcorder she had. For years, even after getting a cellphone, she refused to get rid of her beeper; which may have kept that industry alive for another 2-3 years.

One of my favorite stories of all time took place when we were doing my college visits. She wanted to be worldly and knowledgeable. We were looking at the campus map for New Paltz, and she said – very seriously – “oh, I don’t know if I want you to go here.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Oh, it sounds like there’s a lot of accidents and injuries here.”
“Really?” I said
“Oh yes,” she said. “There’s this whole area in the upper part of the map called the Tripping Fields.”

As her children shifted into adulthood, the relationships changed, obviously. I’m especially happy that we all – as a family – went to Disney World in 2009. My mom had always wanted to go; and it was a joy to go and experience it with her, with us all as adults. The trip certainly had its bumps (one of us (who shall remain nameless) might have had a slight meltdown in the parking lot on the last day, when the limo company showed up with a vehicle that was too small to transport us) – but, as I look back on the vacation, my memories are only happy; and I’m sure they’ll continue to get even better.

Obviously, the past few days have been a mixture of emotions – anger, guilt, depression, sadness and even some moments of humor. I think each member of my family has felt every raw emotion at some point. I think I’ve struggled, quite a bit, with what to make of this event. The sheer unfairness of her passing has – at times – consumed me; especially since I’m someone who always likes things to make sense. And, for the most part, this simply doesn’t.

Nothing any of us can do can change what has happened; we can only change our future and attempt, in some way, to make changes that honor her memory and her values. For her family and friends, who knew her, it’s important to find ways to ensure her passing was not in vain.

For me, I have no doubt that my family will become closer through these events. We already have.

I will no longer think, “oh, there’s enough time…” It was sobering and saddening to see that we had only ONE photograph of my mom and my son. There was always tomorrow. That can’t be my philosophy anymore.

I have no doubt that her virtues and life lessons prepared me to be a stronger father than I’d ever have been otherwise, even if I didn’t know it at the time.

My goal, each day, is to ensure my son smiles. And each time he does that, I feel confident that I’ve done right by her, and I know somewhere above, she’s approving of kind of father I’m becoming. And, she would certainly say, more than anything else I do in life; never lose sight of the fact that being a father is – absolutely – the most important job I’ll ever hold.

Rest in peace, Mom. You’ve earned it, for all you’ve done for everyone.

At the risk of making this sound like I’m accepting an award (which my wife cautioned me about), I did want to mention a few other things.

I do want to thank my sister Debbie, who completely stepped up and handled the lion’s share of the responsibilities leading up to today – from selecting pictures to making dinner for the entire family each night. I know, as I’ve reflected on things these past few days, that my mom held a special role in this family; one with shoes that are almost certainly too large for anyone to step into. But, if one person has the capacity to do so, it would be Debbie.

And, I do have to thank my wife, who has done even more than her usual 90 percent of the work these past few weeks, to make sure that I can stand here and actually look composed and in control, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Once again, I would like to extend my thanks and deepest appreciation for all who have come this evening. Your support has truly been overwhelming.

At this time, I’d like to invite anyone else who would like to speak and share a memory or story to do so.

I know this will get easier. And, it will get harder. There will be small things that will trigger great outbursts; and years from now, when I'm "introducing" my son to my mom, there will be a cavalcade of emotions all over again. My own regrets will fuel my efforts to show my son how amazing his grandmother truly was. Her beliefs: love your family, advocate for the less fortunate, be frugal; will be passed on to him.

One of my mom's favorite activities was going to garage sales. She'd head out on a Saturday with my sisters and their families and they would hit 20 garage sales. She loved a great deal (even though, there was a better-than-average chance that her purchases would be given to her children as gifts and – eventually – would be sold, again, at her OWN garage sale later on).

In her memory, my wife and I went to three garage sales today. I bought a copy of "Four Christmases." Her favorite holiday (and mine, by far) was Christmas. I hope she smiled.

What I Should Have Done with My Life

I had an epiphany a few weeks ago, while I was working on a computer problem in my home.
When I finally figured out the problem and solved it, I was awash with a sense of accomplishment -- there was a definitive solution to the issue, and I had discovered it. There was no opportunity for anyone to second-guess or point out a better way or recommend an improvement. Unequivocally, I had diagnosed and solved the issue.

And then I started thinking about my current career as a writer (using the broadest scope of the word, obviously). It's unusual I ever get that same feeling.

To be sure, I suppose I'm "accomplished" in my career -- for a while, I was the youngest editor named to head a magazine at my first company (in the process, revamping the content and helping the magazine go from #4 to #1 in the industry); I launched a start-up magazine into profitability at my second company; and overhauled the production efficiencies at my last publishing company, helping it go from "in the red" to "in the black" for the first time in five years.

I switched to communications and -- in 2008 -- won an award as "Communicator of the Year" from the International Association of Business Communicators. So, I suppose, I'm accomplished in my field.

Yet, it's rare that I ever get that sense of "it's done, and it's spectacular!" Part of this, certainly, is my own quest for greatness -- my personal commitment to doing the best job I can (and, writing or strategizing communications is a fairly subjective task). But even more than that is the presumption by so many others in the workforce that they too are "experts" in communication (even though research and employee surveys scream otherwise). So, it's par for the course for me to be given a tactical task, complete it, and then, submit it to a committee to be picked apart and "improved."

This is not specific to me; far from it -- I've heard communicators bemoan this for years. I guess it's finally just been made clearer to me.

For example, I would never head into the CFO's office and say, "hey, I was thinking of a better way to balance our books this weekend; let me take a crack at it!" Or to HR or IT or Sales - or any other discipline where those who hold those positions have earned their way to that seat. How could I possibly offer suggestions (especially unsolicited ones) in that scenario.

So, at times, I lament my choice of career -- how much easier would my life have been if I had gone into computers, for example -- get a task, create the product; if it works, it works (yeah, there's the 0.5% of the population that will pick apart your code and say how "inelegant" it is -- I'm not counting them). Most people, when they ask IT for a task, and it's delivered to their specifications, simply say "thank you!" and they don't concern themselves with what it took to get there.

Not so, when it comes to writing or communications strategy, I suppose. Although, again, I think this is the fate all communicators are doomed to live with. It just comes with the territory.

The Bittersweetness of Christmas (for me)

Nine years ago, I wrote a post on a message board about my gaming habits. Each year, at the end of the year, I remember writing it and I go back to the post and re-read it to see if anything has changed.

Admittedly, I wrote it on New Years Eve. I was in a different place in my life -- early 30s, about a year removed from the 9/11 tragedy, and I had just come to the decision that my "plan" to become a teacher would not be possible. I'd suffered through a horrendous student teaching experience, and I was ready to re-enter the workforce (although, that wouldn't happen for another 11 long months).

So, first -- here's the original post:
 

I'm sitting here, going through old Abandon-Ware sites, finding vintage Commodore64 games that I can run on an emulator on the PC.

Had to run downstairs to get an old Avalon Hill catalog, because - growing up, there were SOOOO many games I wanted. Started looking through it...wow...have I grown up.

I can remember being 14...15, maybe...seeing "Pennant Race" - and "Baseball Strategy"..."Statis-Pro Football"...I remember getting ALL the games one Christmas, and just sitting there. I remember going through Street and Smiths and tearing out that amber-yellow page, which had the ad for Ultimate College Basketball...and spending what seemed like a FORTUNE at that time...

Now...hell...I have more games than I know what to do with. I have - damn...probably close to 300 different sports games...another 250-300 family and war and role-playing games. 150 PC games (with even more downloading...)

I'm ONLY 33...Was it REALLY 20 years ago that I was so wide-eyed at all that these games offered? Now, it's like an addiction -- I buy, trade, plan, plot - all types of projects, and yet, I no longer can just sit down and play ONE Title Bout fight...hell, I actually played a whole 82 game SEASON of Slapshot (and for those of you who know the game...ha ha...yes, it was a VERY silly project)...But now...wow...

So...as another year comes to an end, I find myself wondering/hoping that, at some point, I'll regain that child-like enthusiasm; instead of these games hanging like some Sword of Damocles over my head, can I ever just, simply, remember how it felt the first time I got a new game? How I looked at EACH and EVERY player card, in detail? How fascinated I was by all the rules and dice and cards and charts?

Gosh...I sure hope so...

I remember that Christmas I'm referring to. I was about 13 or 14, and I was the kind of kid that *never* went looking for Christmas gifts. This year, however, I was determined to find out that I was getting what I'd asked for. I hunted and finally found the gifts, and was ecstatic. That Christmas Day, I was in Heaven -- I played a College Basketball game, had a great boxing match. It was, possibly, the purest joy I'd felt.

Now, years later, I "collect" -- I still play; but even a new game doesn't have that feeling of "Oh My God" that I had when I was a child. My collection has grown to an unwieldy 1500 games.

This point was driven home to me when I went downstairs to organize some things, and realized, I've run out of room. And, the bittersweetness of the situation is that -- as I face mortality -- I have to accept that I'll *never* be able to play everything that I wanted.

Part of my 'goals' each year is to move from "planning to get things done" to "getting things done." For a few years now, I've had a never-ending list of things to accomplish. But, now with Nicolo in the picture, my free time is sure to wane. It's now or never to get things finished.

My first 'big" project I'll undertake will be a large inventory of my collection, with the goal of reducing it, significantly. I've done a little so far; I need to do much more. As I've said before, there'll never be a time where I'm going to say, "I feel like playing a [type of] game -- I wonder what the 27th best one I have is?" There's no need for that much.

Next year marks the 10 year anniversary for that post, and I'd really like to see a difference. I know there will be a difference on one end -- Nicolo in my life will help me rediscover the fascination of Christmas, etc.; and that can only be a good thing.

An Inconvenient Inconvenience

Just in case people were wondering, "Wow, this recent turn of positive events for Chris and Anna Maria has us curious -- I didn't think they had that kind of luck!" -- the universe righted those wrongs last weekend.

Driving home on Friday, from work, I was looking forward to my weekend. A friend was coming out on Friday evening to hang out; Saturday, we had a slew of things going on, and Sunday, we had more visitors coming to see Nicolo. My mother-in-law was visiting, as well; so the weekend was chock full o' stuff.

I left work slightly later than I usually do -- one of those things you look back on, wistfully, and think, "if only...". I take mostly back roads, avoiding highways wherever possible; primarily because I don't like dealing with most drivers.

I turned onto the main road (Rte. 25) from a side street (Beverly Road). There was one car ahead of me, and one truck behind me. We entered Jericho Turnpike (Rte. 25) with no one in front of us.

Approximately 400 feet away, was another street (Longfellow). As we approached Longfellow (with the car ahead of me in the left lane; and the truck, behind me, in the right lane, there was a grey Suzuki in the turning lane, ready to turn on to Longfellow.

Only, the car didn't turn. Instead, it stayed in the turning lane and drove (slowly) through the intersection, then, began drifting into the left lane of the main road (having passed Longfellow already). The car in front of me honked angrily and sped off. The grey Suzuki didn't even jerk back; but just kept coming over, and planted itself directly in front of me; doing approximately 5 mph.

And then, it parked.

I don't mean it came to a stop; it didn't slow down. It literally completely stopped moving, with no brake lights or any indication. Before I could even react (since it had entered the road just a few feet ahead of me), I had collided with it. Thankfully, I was only doing about 15-20 mpg (since I'd had to slow down when I saw the car begin drifting over, earlier). My car took all of the damage, completely destroying the front end of my vehicle. The Suzuki took nearly no damage; just losing its rear bumper.

I leaped out of my car, irate, and stormed over to the other vehicle. All of the occupants were easily under 25 years of age.The male driver barely looked at me; while the female in the passenger seat screamed at him. The female in the back seat (pregnant) left the car and began speaking with me. Both females eventually left the car and were extremely apologetic. Apparently, the car had not been driving correctly -- it had shifted in and out of gear three times, and, the car had mysteriously shifted into "park" while they were driving. I asked/begged why they hadn't left the main road and turned down a side road. They continued apologizing, asking if they could call anyone, did I need a ride anywhere. While I was speaking with both ladies, the male tried to move the car, but my car was still hitched on his bumper, and it wasn't safe to try to move out of the lane. I screamed to him "Dude, stop!"

The pregnant lady told me her name was Katie, an she was the only under-25 year old redhead that worked at the Hauppauge DMV, and if I ever needed anything -- even something unrelated to this incident -- I should feel free to contact her.

I calmed, realizing that they were taking the blame (rightfully) for the accident; and I awaited the police arrival. Here is where things get concerning for me.

When the police arrived, myself and the other driver were obviously in our respective cars. We both filled out our police reports/statements. The officer ran checks, etc., I needed a tow truck for my vehicle. At that point, I saw the guy trying to pry the bumper off his car, and I went to the police officer. I explained that they had explained the reason for the accident was that their car wasn't driving properly; and, obviously, they should not be driving away from the scene (of an accident they caused, no less!) She checked their rear window wiper and brake lights (both of which worked -- as I'd said, my car took the damage), but she did not check the driving functionality of the vehicle.

The female that had been sitting in the front seat drove the vehicle away. I realized, after speaking with the officer, that they had said the *female* had been driving (not the pregnant one, but the other one). This got me worried; although, I'm not sure why.

Clearly, they had something to hide -- why else to state that someone other than the driver was actually driving the vehicle. Perhaps the male had a revoked or suspended license; or maybe he'd already had a few accidents (or, maybe he had no license) - whatever the reason, there's obviously some reason why they told the police someone else was driving the vehicle.

On the other hand, let's say this is an insurance scheme -- and the male has already been a part of a few accidents. Rather than draw attention to themselves (by having the same driver hit several times), they spread it around. It sounds crazy, sure; but there are crazy people in the world. It's also equally crazy to be driving a vehicle that shifts in and out of gear; to drive through an intersection in a turning lane; to illegally merge into a left lane of a highway; and to park your vehicle on the highway. In that context, the premise isn't so ridiculous.

So, now I wait. I wait to hear what will happen with my car (I suppose it could be totaled, there was enough damage), and everything is done on a far slower timetable than I would like (the appraisal won't even be done for a few days; and then insurance has to evaluate the feasibility of the repairs, etc.) If it *is* to be repaired, then there's probably a week's worth of work. All the while, I'll be in a far-too-small rental car (because my insurance company actually includes -- as standard -- a rental car rider that no rental car qualifies for ($30 a day -- try finding a car on Long Island for $30 a day; it's impossible)).

I suppose I'll learn not to be too cocky -- I'd almost thought the bad part of 2011 was behind me, before this was forcibly tossed back in my face. Yes, it could be worse; I could've been hurt, or any of the three others could've been hurt. Instead, the impact was low-speed enough (their car didn't even move) and my car did what it was supposed to; crumpling around the core. No one needed an ambulance, and everyone was walking. It's just a huge inconvenience; but one that -- frustratingly -- should have been avoidable.