“A beautiful citizen uprising!” Apparently, that’s what I said — and there’s video to prove it.
One of the most excellent regional unconferences (imo) is Transparency Camp, put on by the Sunlight Foundation. This year, I was interviewed as one of the participants, and my few moments of fame open and close the video.
For those of you who’ve ever experienced micro-management by a board (on either side of the table), here’s a potentially helpful document I wrote. It’s designed to help nonprofit organizations reduce unnecessary board intrusion, concurrently while helping the ED and staff serve the board and provide them what they need to do their strategic work.
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See, I’ve served on two boards of late. And, educational experiences they have both been! I’ve learned through some rather twisted and uncomfortable ways about the roles of the executive committee, the board president, the committees, the executive director (ED) and the staff. I have not always been the easiest of board members to have around. I want information. I find it impossible to do my job of providing, among other things, strategic direction to an organization about which I know little.
In my frustration, I became a whirlwind of data requests. I had culture clashes with the staff and ED about what information I had a right to see. Me? I think Google Analytics are relevant when one is the Communications Committee chair. And HTML newsletter open rates and clicks on links. Because I wasn’t receiving the information I felt I needed to do my job as a board member, and as my requests for information were often perceived of as stepping on staff and ED toes, the I-want-you-can’t-have push-pull became even more pronounced.
Now, EDs have to protect their staff from excessive board requests and ensure that mission critical operations continue. And usually, producing reports and providing information takes staff time that can impact the staff’s ability to do its work. So, what’s a sane organization to do? Well, I think the first thing is that people have to know is what they’re asking for and why … what purpose does the getting of the information provide? And what’s it worth? Is the information sought a $25 answer (a quick email sent), a $250 answer (perhaps a meeting with a few staff and follow up), or is it a $2,500 answer … perhaps a more extensive report? Board members should be able to ask a reasonable question of staff and get a reasonable answer. Equally, even without a master of science in management, board members need to understand “the cost” of their questions asked.
So, what’s a sane organization to do?
In my consulting work over the years (and in personal relationships), I see that it is my responsibility to ask for what I want and to make sure that I’m clear about what it is that I need as an answer/deliverable/date. My suspicion is that board member requests of staff would half and ED/staff resistance would subside tremendously if there were systems in place that required (forced) board members to be more thoughtful in what it is they need, and why.
So, I created a form, a document, a think-your-way-through-your-thought-process guide. I make no claim of perfection in this regard. I have yet to test and vet this form. I am, however, offering it for nonprofit boards, EDs and staff as a potentially helpful tool for navigating the sometimes-messy territory of board-staff relationships. (And for those of you who’ve got your thinking caps on but don’t serve on nonprofit boards at this moment in time, you’ll be able to see the business applications for such a form.)
Back in the early ol’ days of my blogging, one of my first-ever posts was about the astounding lack of detailed information in PayPal transactions. This evening, I’m combing through some transactions now to confirm a rebate, and I once again find myself astounded by PayPal’s lack of evolution. Come on, PayPal people. I love your service, the ease, the security, your ubiquity. You rock. Oh, except in one area where you suck: lack of data about transactions. It’s impossible to tell to whom a payment was made. The description is not a human-readable description and something that might — gasp — serve their customers, but some yackety-yack-yack data that serves your company.
Evolve or perish.
All kinds of critters, countries and businesses lay dead and forgotten as proof.
Imo, PayPal, you’re not far behind if you can’t step up your game.
PayPal's lack of detailed information in transactions is abominal. imo.
And here’s the useless data that shows up on my bank account –
Please, PayPal, evolve. For the most part, I really like being your customer, and I’ve been your customer for years. But I need data. And I’m dependent on you providing it. Or I’ll have to go somewhere else. And that would be sad. For you.
For my people in TheHoco.
Driving, was I, down a road I travel often, Dobbin Road, when I spotted the umpteenth version of the same problem I’ve witnessed for years. This one was the straw that broke the camel’s back. What I saw was a BABY IN A STROLLER being pushed along the treacherous, sidewalk-less span of Dobbin Road. One sneeze from a driver. One phone call dialed at the wrong time. One quick distraction and but a shift in a car’s direction, and that baby would be seriously maimed or, God forbid, dead.
The man pushing the carriage was elderly, Korean and with the I-wasn’t-born-in-the-US look. Following him in a single file, with the stroller at the lead, was a similarly aged woman, who I assumed to be his wife. They both looked distraught and with good reason: they weren’t safe and the baby they had with them certainly wasn’t either.
The week prior I saw on the same road a couple: white, late 20s-ish, walking up a treacherously inclined, never-designed-for-human-walkability hill trying to get into one of the retail centers off Dobbin Road. The man had a baby in a baby pack and the woman was behind him. At least they looked relatively clad for such a hike with casual clothes and tennis shoes.
I also saw an Hispanic woman, 20s-ish, with two pre-K looking kids, attempting to cross the street from the K-mart side of things to the Starbucks side. This is so dangerous. There are no sidewalks at all along Dobbin Road. The entire area is designed for cars.
I find myself so tired of the endless N0-I-Know-What-Jim-Rouse-Wanted camps in Columbia. “He wanted vibrancy.” “No. He wanted thing to be kept in perpetuity as originally planned.” I’m tired of the insane amount of press, attention, government time, bickering, and values-based camp fights over what Columbia’s downtown should be. I’m tired of the inane amount of press, attention, government time, bickering and values-based camp fights over whether Wilde Lake is gonna get its grocery store.
We have a problem, people.
A primary and key area of retail — which includes customers and SERVICE workers (many of whom bike and walk to work, if you’ve yet to notice) are deeply underserved and put in danger by our CAR-AUTO-PERSONAL VEHICLE orientation to movement in this community. You want a walkable downtown? Oooooooooooh. How fun. We’ll all stroll and shop. We’ll hang out while watching a free concert on the promenade. Yeah, I’m all for it but hold no vision that it’ll happen anytime soon. It will happen, I’d predict, when the Millennials (born 1982 -2002ish) demand it as they are a public, be-seen-by-their-peers generation. It will not happen as long as Boomers (born 1943-1960) still bring their culture wars to everything they lay sight on. And it won’t happen while Silent gen (born 1925 – 1942) and the true settlers of Columbia and a “settler” generation every time they cycle through America are still dominant “pioneers.”
So, screw the downtown plans. Who has the money for this right now anyway?
Let’s tend to the real need. Let’s stop pretending that Columbia is going to “get vibrant.” Take a moment to THINK INTO a vision in which Dobbin, Route 175, Snowden and the retail all in that area was actually walkable? See it. Overlay Disney and Rouse’s monorails (updated to modern thinking). Imagine safe crossing and passage for pedestrians. Imagine being able to park your car in ONE retail location and walk, or take easy-to-access, frequent, looping public transportation that moves you, say, first from some shopping, to a cafe for a bite to eat, to the movie theater and back to your car.)
It’s all right there. It’s all in front of us. All the bits to bring “vibrancy” and “pedestrian safety” to “downtown Columbia.” GenXers (born 1961-1981), where are you on this? The GenX credo: ALWAYS MAKE SURE THE BABY IS SAFE! Your baby isn’t safe. Nobody’s baby is safe on Dobbin Road or Snowden River Parkway: the real downtown of Columbia.
You want affordable housing? Workforce housing? What about an apartment complex with true low-income housing. Not subsidized but small and low-amenity housing. It’s been done for ages and will be done again. Tear down a crappy, endless big-box store and add some low-cost workforce/student/elderly/whatever housing.
Hey, I know I’m spouting. It’s my blog.
But, really, this unwillingness to address the lack of walkability and DANGER of high pedestrian and bike activity on Dobbin and Snowden Road is ridiculous. Please don’t let it take the death of a child to make it a priority. It’s really easy to see that it’s already a problem. And, I’m sure, given coordination, will, true ability to think outside the box and some resources, it could happen.
Tiresome, says I, this seemingly endless stream of do-this-do-that for a cure. Buy these pink shoes for “a cure.” Walk in such-and-such event for “a cure.” Come to this event and a “portion of all proceeds” will go to support “a cure.” Really? Not that I doubt the sincerity of the groups. Not that I am against gathering together for purpose and cause with direction and vision. Not that I diminish the power of individuals to vote with their dollars and support values through such choices.
Nope, see I kinda disagree with the whole focus on finding “a cure” for — in particular, though certainly not exclusively — The Big C. And I tell ya why: my belief is that the best cure for cancer is not to get it. So the real and true “cure” is prevention. And prevention is about behavior for the most part. Now, before you rail on me, I grew up with a mother who was a nurse for 49 years (yes, bless her dear soul, the woman retired three months ago at the age of 69 1/2!) She was not only a nurse, but quite the stellar oncology gal about town. So, I’ve heard stories and know, for example, that young Jewish women of Eastern European descent have a high rate of breast cancer: the super-deadly kind. I know that Asians get a lot of stomach cancer and a particular group of Asians get a certain nasal cancer. I know that there are many a factor involved in such things as getting cancer.
Noel, bless her soul, in the rain at the Walk for a Cure event, raising money with hula hoops.
But I also know that my body is my greatest and dearest friend. It is with ME (mind, heart, brain, soul, ancestral history and whatever else you’d like to add to or subtract from this list) every moment of My Life. There is ONE person who cares for my body, and it’s me. The chemistry, the beingness, the condition, the health and vitality of my body is my responsibility. And my body talks to me all the time … and I’m guessing it talks to you and every other being on the planet. (Animals seem to know to eat certain medicinal plants and such when ill; I can’t imagine that somehow chickens got some capacity for survival that we didn’t. Know what I mean?) My body tells me things. It tells me that certain thoughts are painful. How do I know? Because when I think/say/do things I get twinges and various pains. Usually the PART of my body that hurts is related — literally or metaphysically — to the subject matter at hand.
My aunt. My lovely, beautiful aunt who died at age 76 after having cancer for three plus years, had cancer of the feminine parts. Why, when she got cancer, wasn’t it part of our culture and medical system and her personal value system to ask WHY THERE? Perhaps part of the “cure” for cancer was for her emotional/spiritual inquiry and exploration and willingness to tell the truth to herself about her choices and desires … and then to make peace with it. Perhaps. I don’t know. I’m exploring these thoughts myself.
See, like I said, my guess is that the true cure for cancer is not to get it. Perhaps the real cure includes getting X mg of magnesium a week, which means I need to eat blackstrap molasses, halibut and broccoli more often. Perhaps the real cure is that I get X mg of magnesium in winter but 2X mg in spring. I don’t know. I’m making this up. I’m speaking to a concept.
Perhaps the real cure for cancer includes dealing with my emotional state of being. Perhaps it’s about being truthful with myself, feeling what I feel, finding expression, relaxation and balance rather than slamming my emotions into a cancerous pit in my soul with every bit of crap-transfatty-whatever overprocessed thing we call food. Or with every cigarette. Or slice of cake. Or one-more beer. Perhaps every extra pound I carry is a memory I didn’t “cleanse out” of my life, hidden instead in my cells, waiting to become The Big C.
Perhaps the real cure for cancer includes friendship and a sense of mission and direction and purpose. Perhaps it includes loving God or simply being at peace with the vagaries of life, all the while living with and through them. Perhaps the real cure for cancer includes knowing the elements: fire, earth, wind and water (or if you’re in another culture, perhaps it’s wood, fire, earth, metal and water). Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
I don’t know the “it.” I don’t have “the answer.” What I do know is that there is a tremendous amount of information already out in the public sphere which speaks much to a healthy and healthful lifestyle and yet what do I see? So much sloth. So many people with so much abundance in their life and so overweight. Intelligent people who are substance abusers — high functioning, yes, but substance abusers who are no longer at choice about their consumption. I see people’s faces and their “lostness.” Others who are clean and trim and yet nervous and jittery and uncomfortable to be around.
So, I ask. If there really was “a cure,” and if the real and true and most-effective cure was for me and others to change our behaviors to align with a lifestyle that prevented cancer, would people adopt it? Would it become part of our cultural values? Would we look upon those with cancer with an “oh well, you picked an interesting path in life, didn’t you?” eye rather than “oh, you’re a victim! let’s save you!” view? Now, I know these things aren’t so black and white, nor so simple. I’m pointing to a CULTURAL DIRECTION with which I do not agree. I do not want my tax dollars, my personal time, my values to align behind helping people who made a helluvalot of decisions to get to the point where they are. (Just like I don’t want my tax dollars to be spent on helping people stay in homes they can’t afford … while I’d be happy to have govt programs get them out of homes they can’t afford and into — mercy! — perhaps an apartment that isn’t top-of-the-line and all nifty and such.) But I digress.
I take a stand for moving toward a world in which the personal and then collective cultural values are that true health care and a true cure for The Big C (and other “illnesses”) starts with The Self. No, I’m not about cruelty, or abandoning, or providing no support. There are many ways to help those who need and ask for help. Equally, I take a stand for moving AWAY from personal and collective cultural values that show up at the door to rescue people who’ve been awash in information about choices they could make who instead made choices that led to their decline and difficulties.
And, that, dear friends, is why I don’t run, walk, jump or shop for “a cure.”
That said — and because I do live here and now and cultural values haven’t yet shifted — I will most likely be at Sonoma’s tonight to “network for a cure.” And, I often walk in the Race for a Cure (brain tumor stuff) with the Powers family, in respect and love for my friend Noel, whose mother had brain cancer and died a few years back.
Hey, Martin. Mr. Mayor. Whatever. Um, hey, look, I know you’ve got a lot going on, and it may not be the best time to talk about this. You’ve got a whole state to govern, and “the economy thing” must suck. That, and you’ve got a family, a life tolive and all that. I still do want to talk to you about something really important and really easy to overlook.
See, I needed to call a state-run phone number for something earlier today. I have a deadline. I have to call within the next couple of days. So, I called. About 35-40 times. Got a busy signal. Not a “welcome to the queue, your hold time will be approximately X minutes,” but a busy signal. I haven’t heard those things in awhile. Voice mail and call center systems, well, heck, they’ve been around for ages. I guess I’ve just gotten used to them.
So, anyway, I called about 35-40 times. I did get through one time. Pushed a whole bunch of buttons to navigate the system; heard a recording say, “all lines are busy now …” and expected to be put into the queue. But then this incredulous — as in unbelievable thing happened. The recording went on to say, “… please call back another time.”
Suffice it to say, I’m ticked.
I’m not ticked at you, per se, Martin. I know you didn’t create the culture by yourself. I know you didn’t hire the MEDI-FUCKING-OCRE — yeah, I said, “fuck” — person in charge of the department I’m calling. You probably inherited the IT and phone system people who are in charge of shit — yeah, I said “shit” for the state government’s operations. I know you’ve got pressures to spend money on more school text books and emergency services and capital improvements and a zillion other things I don’t need to worry my pretty little head about. I get that you’ve got a lot on your plate.
But, see, the foundation and the basics of operations are critical. I’ve had to suffer through your various departments’ letters, websites and communications that are so poorly written. Not in a grammar kind of way. Nah, my issue is regarding the comprehension and the care with which the letters and materials are written. They suck. I have yet to encounter a document that was written by a human for a human. They seem to be written by bureaucrats for citizens. And, let me tell a little trick you can pass on to those over-paid, been-on-your-payroll-way-too-long folk, what makes written communication effective is to write as a person to a person. (It kind of mimics the natural human programming we have, if you give it a sec and think about it.)
But, I digress.
I’m asking that perhaps you find a few minutes in your day to have a talk with some folk and tell them to get their stuff in order with the phone systems and communications. I’ll give you lots of berth to make mistakes, stumble a bit, not be perfect. I get that being perfect is, well, it’s tough, especially when a zillion people have their own definitions of “perfection.” But, when I’m disrespected. When I have to waste my time because your systems suck. When I have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to decipher a simple one page letter. When I have to take time out of my day to tell you about the systems YOU’RE governing, well, dude, my patience is running a bit thin.
All-righty. Well, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. Hoping you can tend to this one little detail upon which the concept of service to your constituents relies. Fer realz. It’d be cool to actually call a phone number and get someone to pick up the phone. 
I have my own relationship to food. To health. To my body.
I find myself intrigued and compelled to things that seem logical, Godly and easy. In that, I like the concept that food is God’s kindest and smartest medicine for strength and capacity, for curative powers and for prevention. And while I eat my greens and such, I also feel drawn to foods that are strong in taste, and Dr. Schulze’s SuperTonic Plague Fighter is one of my favorite examples of this. It’s a combination of garlic, onion, habanero pepper, ginger and horse radish, in a base of apple cider vinegar. (Recipe/instructions here.) And, if that doesn’t spark things up inside my body, I don’t know what will. Recently, a chef in Atlanta, commented on an earlier blog post of mine, that he not only makes his own STPF, but that he also sells it at his restaurants, and his customers love it.
I’m wondering — and wouldn’t be surprised to see more of this — that as Individuals In A Nation Transforming, as expectations and attitudes toward caring about our health shift, what that might look like. Me? I’m interested in more personal responsibility. I’m interested in less righteousness about showing up at the doors of Our Health Care System, demanding endless treatment for problems self-created by a life-time of careless choices. I’m interested in supporting others and being supported by others in a culture informed by the belief that we each play a role in both the big — and the infinitesimally small — picture of A Healthy Nation. I want to walk into a local restaurant and be able to choose a good wholesome soup … and a bottle of flu buster, made fresh that day by the chef. I want to be acknowledged by The Health Care System for the choices and lifestyle I’ve lived. I want to be honored and respected for that. And while I’m not advocating for specific punishment, per se, for those who’ve chosen otherwise, I want to live in a culture that speaks with a clear and honest voice about the impact of choices made. And the responsibility of individuals to participate in The Care Of Their Health while they receive from the bounty of The Health Care System.
You? I don’t know what you want. I don’t know how you see it. I don’t ask that you see things exactly as I do. But I do want — and hope to find as I live my life — more people in the tribe/bandwidth/vibe of the realm of this thinking. The solutions: so many of them are right here, right now. It’s a matter of truth telling, I think. Being clear, real, straight up.
Hey, I’ll drink to that! And I invite you to join me. Perhaps we can have a shot of SuperTonic Plague Fighter, straight up.
I’m all for the USPS cutting a day of delivery service to reduce expenses. Personally, I think for $.44, having a piece of mail picked up from my home and delivered straight to the door of any address in the U.S. has got to be the best bargain on the planet. So, if the Postal Service needs to trim a bit, ok, works for me.
But why Saturday? Why not a weekday? Are we such an old-school bunch of thinkers to believe life happens M-F? Yeah, I get that M-F are classic biz and gov days of operation. So, what biz is going to actually falter if they can’t have USPS pick-up or delivery one day out of the week? Really. But it would be, imo, more harmful/disruptive/noticeable not to have delivery two days in a week: Saturday and Sunday. And, mercy, what about a gov holiday? What happens on President’s Day? No mail delivery for three days?
I say cut Wednesday. Or maybe Thursday. But not Saturday. That’s a bureacrat’s answer. Think, people.
For all my moaning and groaning about the burbs (and, yes, there’s plenty to moan about), I do believe social media is the magic bit that can liven life in the ‘burbs up a bit. These past 48 hours have been testament to this elusive vision I’ve believed in for several years.
Yesterday morning, I posted a note in my Facebook profile that I was hoping to find a friend in my network who liked Leonard Cohen and was going to the concert at Merriweather later in the evening. I wanted to get a ticket and tag along with someone to the concert. Here’s what happened: a friend very generously contacted me in Facebook, telling me he had three VIP tickets to the concert, including two numbered VIP parking spaces. If you know Vince Sharps of Graphic Press in Columbia, you probably won’t be surprised by his generosity; he gave me the tickets! I just love Leonard Cohen’s music and had never seen him perform live until last night. What a treat.
Then, this evening, meeting a friend after work with no major plans other than mutual intuition to get together, I scanned my twitter stream while we were wondering what we might want to do. My twitter stream told me @chrisbachmann was at the #dobbin *$ with @stevefisher. Code language for, “Hey, Chris and Steve are at the Dobbin Starbucks … and they just tweeted about 20 minutes ago so they’re probably still there!” We were just across the street, so we drove over, popped in our friends and decided to then walk over to Qdoba for dinner and yucking it up.
Yahoo for connecting with friends with ease via social media. Lovin’ it.
Some Leonard Cohen for fans and newbies, alike.
Trends, trends, trends. Certainly not the first to spot this one. I just feel the cartoon-comic-drawn character approach to delivering marketing messages is firmly entrenched for now … and probably another 12-15 years before it starts to feel tired.
Examples abound. I just happened to be very impressed by this one for a coffee service. Gosh, how much more fun must it be to be a salesperson for this company?
I’d expect to see lots more of it … even, I’d bet, in government communications.
Community marketing. The next buzzword? Basic common sense? The new frontier of business opportunities in a down market? This article speaks much to the subject of community-centric marketing. Recommend it, I do.
Particularly when people feel more concern about the economy and their futures, their need for community participation heightens. This is classic Fourth Turning stuff, in generational theory. The prior 20 years (a Third Turning) are about expansion and personal choice in an era where individuals feel optimistic about their own futures but pessimistic about public/communal ability to get much of anything done. That shifts in a Fourth Turning, where individual choice is valued less and community/the ability of the public to be successful becomes paramount.
Tip for Businesses Today: Stop with all the expensive marketing, fancy-schmancy brochures, and all the look-at-me-look-at-me collateral material. Get real. Get human. Interact. Demonstrate that you know how to “do more with less” by applying that value to how you reach your own customers. That’s my two cents.
Big fan, I am, of owning one’s identity online. Major reason: Anons often do and say shitty and snitty things online, acting in a manner they would never act in person.
Here’s the low-down on someone who did — under the *assumed* veil of anonymity – something so shitty, that it compelled a community of folk to track them down and expose and expose and expose them some more. This is my kind of story!
Oh, and one of the checks and balances inside of personal expression offered by social media is — talk to Cherie about this for a better understanding — tribal/community pressure.
I live in the mid-Atlantic region of the U.S. I know a bit about gardening, a bit about seasons and the earth moving around the sun, a bit about generations and a bit about trends.
And while I jus’ luvs me our new president and feel he is, indeed, The Man for the Times, I do wish he had the strength and fortitude to say, “I’m sorry, there isn’t going to be any “stimulus” package now because 1) we don’t have it and 2) it won’t do us much good.”
While many have their squibbles and squabbles about said “stimulus” package, I have my own version of them, and it’s this: You can’t grow fresh, sun-ripened tomatoes in winter. As a matter of fact, not much of anything green and edible grows in winter. Why? Cuz it’s winter. And winter has a different purpose and part to play in the cycle of life.
Winter is when it’s time to conserve energy; stay close, warm and huddled with family and community; fix broken tools and maybe even make some new ones. In Nature, winter is when plants pull deep nutrients into their root systems, preparing for the spring. (That’s why the time to fertilize many trees and shrubs is in the late fall. To fertilize a shrub in the summer would be disruptive to most shrubs’ systems.)
See, in generational theory, in every Fourth Turning, it’s Society’s Winter. In “winter,” the Prophets (Boomers) are moving into elderhood; the Nomads (GenXers) are moving into midlife; the Heroes (Millennials), into young adulthood; and the Artists (Homeland Gen) are being born into childhood. In winter, all energy is about survival of the tribe (understanding some won’t make it through), placing the values of community over individual needs and making tough decisions so that there is, indeed, a future for The All.
Winter is not a time of harvest; harvest is the energy of Fall (1984 – 2005/6). Nor is winter time for the carefree days of Summer (1964 – 1983) when permissions were lax and worries were few. Nor is it the Spring (1943 – 1962), which started this whole cycle, when the capacity, strength, fortitude and can-do-it-ness forged in the just-prior Winter created the conditions for America to emerge, capable and ready for a glorious future.
Winter is winter.
Treat it otherwise, and there is risk of damaging capacity in spring. Mr, Obama, I know you mean well. I know you have pressures coming at you from all over the place. I know you genuinely want to do good. But your strength as a leader, right now, at this time, is to call a spade a spade and then act into it.
We are in winter, and only in the beginning of what is likely to be a 20-year component of a four-seasonal cycle. Ain’t nothing you can do to get us back to where we were. Why? Because Winter turns to Spring. Winter doesn’t cycle backward to Fall. Your job now, Mr. President — if I may be so bold — is to do your best to lead our country through dark, cold nights so that come Spring (when you’ll long past have been president) we can emerge again for another glorious cycle.
You’re going to have to make profoundly difficult and painful decisions. You’re going to have to let people know that the social contracts and promises offered in and by prior generations cannot be honored. That, together, for the good of the all, expectations are going to have to be adjusted. And that not only is it no longer moral, it’s just no longer possible, that older generations can continue to receive the bounty while passing along the cost to their progeny. A rebalancing, a shifting of expectations, an examination of where we are, who we are, what we are as a country and as individuals is imperative.
And while this may eat at you, and tear at your heart, and how you may not be able to imagine having to make such decisions and speak such words, it is your job and it is your duty. And the people trust you. And they believe in you. Right now, much of the euphoria may be to hope that you can restore America. But restore us to what? The unsustainable economy of the past 20 years? The expectations of social contracts to be paid upon retirement but no willingness by today’s elder generations to fund even their own coffers when they had the chance? When they were young and in power?
I know you knew this road would be tough. Tougher than most want to believe. And, I offer, it’s tougher even still. For all your capacity — and even if bickering partisan antics disappeared overnight — you cannot grow sun-ripened tomatoes in February in DC. The sooner we all acknowledge that, with you at the lead, the faster we can begin to act appropriate to the season at hand and the faster genuinely effective solutions will emerge.
Just watched a snippet of news on CNN. About the 150 or so ice fisherman who knowingly went into dangerous territory … anyway. Uh, this time, things didn’t work out, they needed emergency rescue, etc.
The part I love-love-love about the story is the ever-so-irrate sherriff in the local area who is very upset about their irresponsibility and tying up emergency services and the cost to the county.
“This was wrong. These people endangered the life of volunteer firemen, [and] the United States Coast Guard,” Bratton said, estimating the cost of the sheriff’s office response at $25,000. “I’m sure that’s going to climb.”
Bratton told the Cleveland Plain Dealer that the fishermen displayed poor judgment in building a makeshift bridge to get from one section of the ice to the other.
“I have no problem with people ice fishing, but these idiots should realize that when you see open water, you should not build a bridge and cross it,” he said. “It’s a shame you can’t arrest people for stupidity.”
RADICAL SELF-RESPONSIBILITY, FOLKS.
STOP EXPECTING THE GOVERNMENT TO PICK UP SLACK FOR YOUR IRRESPONSIBLE CHOICES.
Really, that era of expectation and thoughtless, reckless choices that impact us all (that includes, by the way, one’s diet)… that era is O-V-E-R.
I don’t normally type in all caps. You know that if you read my blogs at all. So feel my passion. Heed the warning. Straighten up and fly right. You are the only who command the ship called Y-O-U.
Driving home tonight, I was listening to The Mo’Nique Show on a local radio station. She’s a bit of a character, or at least plays so on the radio, and I like her.
I tuned in right as she said something that spoke to me dearly. Paraphrasing, she said, “It’s time to get healthy. To take care of ourselves and get well. The time for marching is over; we’ve done that. But now, it’s time to serve, and to serve, we’ve got to be healthy.”
Say it, girl.
She was so clear and straight with her listening audience, while people called in to talk of their problems and ask questions of the healthy-eating expert invited on her show. When one woman said it was just cheaper to eat junk food than cook and eating healthy food, Mo’Nique just called her on it. Paraphrasing, “Cheaper today, but you will pay for it in the long run. You’ll be unhealthy, you’ll be a burden to your family and to the system. Pay for your health today with cooking and eating better.”
Mo’Nique has an inviting way of being starkly frank and loving at the same time. It’s as though her kindness and compassion often come out by the direct way in which she speaks to people and of issues. I think she’s a great voice inside her listening audience. And I found her call today to “get healthy” in order to be able to serve refreshing and uplifting.
** Eating rice and bean/meat chili with vegetables and lots of hot peppers while writing this, I am.
A sight last night intrigued me. It was a young black couple: hip, with hip black hair, casual but stylish clothes, doing a waltz. Not just any waltz, a waltz with an accomplished sense of style and an edge that didn’t reek of geek.
Now, it wasn’t just the color, style and age of the couple that had my attention: it was the “where.” See, I was at Glen Echo Park in the Spanish Ballroom at a contra dance. Contra is the land of the uber-nerd-weirdo-geek (but not in a cool, SF kinda way), friendly-but-odd people. And I love it. Rare are the hip.
And, rare are the black folk.
But last night, not only did I see said young couple dancing, and well. Earlier I also saw a young man: black, stylish, with a handsome and kind countenance. It was his birthday. He was turning 29. I’d never seen him at a contra dance, myself. He was fun, easy, charming and energetic. And he was celebrating his 29th birthday at a contra dance: land of the Nice Nerds.
I grew up in Columbia, Md., in the early ’70s. My family moved from a town where there had been one black kid in my entire school class to living next to a black man on one side of our home with a Jewish family on the other. This was in ’71, and this was meaningful and significant to my seven-year-old’s world view.
And while I grew up with many black kids whose parents were doctors and lawyers, elegant, smart and forward-thinking, over the years, I’ve wondered, where are the black people?
Over the years, I’ve gone to free museums in DC. Where are the black people? There’s a significant portion of the local community that’s black. Where are they? I’ve gone to dance events, such as Zydeco (read: black Louisiana music and bands). Where are the black people?
I’ve just found it odd that I know so many black folk and yet am often in a state of quandary as to why I don’t see more folk integrated in activities I’d think had general appeal.
So, let me jump a bit in time. I’ve felt an attraction to DC more and more in the past few years. For lots of reasons. I guess part of it is that I’m older and finally DC feels young to me. When I was in my 20s, DC felt like a city of self-absorbed boring Boomers and older bureacrats, and it was. But the GenX & Millennial population is increasing, and I — no surprises — have moved through time. I now to enjoy the faces, energy and style of younger people and of my peers. The older people are there, too, and that’s cool, because the mix and integration is better now.
Another thing about DC is that I see more and more black people who I grew up with. Not literally, nor necessarily, someone from my neighborhood in Columbia, Md. But the kind of people whose vibe and essence and way of moving through the world makes sense to me.
So, admittedly, this is getting a bit awkward to write. I understand that this territory in which I’m thinking and writing is riddled with holes; there are million ways to attack what I’m saying, so let me just say what I know is probably as far away from anything politically correct as coulud be possible: I’m just really happy to see more black folk in the paths I travel and the places I go.
And now that DC is preparing to welcome, arguably, the most visible, integrated and vibe-alicious black family of all to its cast of residents, I’m happier than ever.
I just skimmed this NY Times article about DC being hip again. This article, plus the waltzing couple last night, made me want to express my perspective. And it really is just that: a perspective.
***
PS – Read this after writing the post above. Not black-related. But addresses DC’s growing hipness.
Frig. How many people do you have on staff in your Google-plex? It was near 5,000 several years back. And yet, your Gmail calendar function is lame as all get-out. If you’re looking for some New Year’s goals for 2009, here are some *really basic* things I’d like in my online calendar function … just in case you’re actually interested in improving functionality and not just expanding categories of cool online functions:
The ability to print my calendar in different sizes. Love the keyboard. Love the whole online, digital-thing, fer real. And, I like paper, too. I like to print things. And I want to print my calendar and include it in my GTD binder, which in my case, is not the classic 8.5×11.
Pretty design when I do print. While you’re at the job of enriching the printing options, would you please task a person or two to actually design a pretty printed page. Try Mac’s/Entourage’s calendar for starters. It’s clean, simple and readable.
Better tie-in with Gmail. Your “add this to my calendar” function that on ever-so-rare occasions pops up next to one of my Gmail messages could use some serious attention. I’ve even been so gullible to think I could actually import with ease a “save the date” type of event into my Gcal. But no. Your so-called feature sucks.
Ability to synch with my iPhone’s calendar. Come on. You’re Google. Mac is Mac. I understand you each want World Domination in your own ways but could you put your petty differences aside for a bit and tend to your users. Fer real. I would like my Gcal to synch with my iPhone, with ease. Oh, I understand all right that I can jump through scary technical hoops, do a little dance, cast a spell and pay for some synching functions, but that frightens me. I want to push a button and synch.
OK, so those are my “life would be so much easier” desires for your company. While you’re at it, I’d love-love-love for someone (that means you, Google) to create a calendrical tickle option. I’d like to put something on a calendar date in the future as a reminder to myself. Fer real, not everything I put on my calendar is an appointment or party. Sometimes I just want to send a note to my Future Self. Couldnchya manage that somehow?
Well, that’s it for now. I’m sure I’ll think of other things, too.
I don’t mean you any harm, Google, and I do align with your “Do no evil,” mantra. But sometimes, crap quality work is evil. And in your calendar function, I’d dare say you’re awfully close to being out of integrity with your corporate — uh, I mean, cultural — mantra.
Rock on, Serg.
When I was 16, my dad taught me a lesson about driving. One winter night, while the snow was falling in big heavy clumps, we drove to the high school I attended, where the parking lot was covered in several inches of freshly fallen snow. There, he taught me how to handle skidding when my wheels weren’t turning as I wanted them to, explaining how, even though it was counter-intuitive, I would have to learn to turn into a skid; rather than to over-correct and turn out of it.
We practiced a bit. I picked up speed, hit the brakes, skidded and quickly learned some basic maneuvers for how to handle the car. When I think back on it, that night was one of the more fun and gleeful times I’ve had with my dad: learning how to face possible danger and be ready for it.
Fast forward almost three decades, and this memory and lesson perhaps explains some of my irritation at the US auto maker bailout currently in discussion. Now, I understand it’s a complex and threaded issue. I understand there are many layers and connected problems / industries / people. I get it. Deeply.
I also understand — deeply — that it’s easy, when facing a “sudden” crisis, to do the opposite behavior of that which will produce the desired result. And that’s how I feel about the bailout. Oh, my! We have a sudden crisis (which in and of itself is an absolute lie, for anyone with half a brain could have seen this coming). And now we need to take “emergency” measures to fix this problem. Please.
If our auto companies couldn’t make it during an expansive economy; if they couldn’t put their house in order when the economy was ridiculously flush with cash, when pretty much all they had to do to sell a car was post a business sign outside their showroom, well, heck. What will a bailout accomplish for a company that didn’t steward resources that they earned themselves? Am I supposed to believe that they’ll finally get their act in order now that they have a chance to squander US taxpayer dollars rather than their own funds?
Much more to say, but I’m feeling I might lose my temper.
Suffice it to say: I think my dad taught me well on that cold and snowy night. Sometimes, in an crisis situation, the desire is to want to fix things to make them go back to the way they used to be. Unfortunately, a crisis often is pointing to the fact that — uh — things are no longer the way they used to be and that new strategies are needed.
Imo, allowing the auto industries to die a noble death — or find their own way to innovation — is the path that will ultimately produce the best result for all of society, and not just a section of our society (auto makers and auto workers) deemed holier than thou because they are from a once-great American industry.
Interesting that I would feel compelled to write this today, as the first snow flurry of the season came through today.
It really is a new era. Literally. A significant cultural shift occurs approximately every 20 years in America, in a dominant-recessive-dominant-recessive pattern. This is the first election in which a GenXer will be in the White House, whether it be — as things seem to be going — Barack Obama as our new president, or in the off chance that McCain wins, Sarah Palin as Veep. Either way, GenX leadership is moving into the national realm.
GenX leadership won’t look, sound or feel like the leadership of past generations, nor should anyone expect it to. Curious about what GenX (Nomad archetype) presidential leadership might be like? Look to our past for some examples:George Washington and John Adams; Ulysses Grant and Grover Cleveland; Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower.
Mr. Obama is his own man, in a unique time and place in the path of America. I’m most curious to see how things will unfold. I don’t expect his promises to be made real. But I do trust that he has the capacity and fortitude to be the right leader for the times.
__
Oh, my bad. I guess I should wait til the election is called before making such statements. 
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