Album review: “The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You,” by Neko Case.

Live and Learn: "The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You." How appropriate.

“When you catch the light, you look like your mother. It crushes me some, just right from the sight.”

O_O

Holy shit.

The very first line of Neko Case’s sixth full-length studio recording indicates to anyone familiar with her work that this record is different. No fantastical storytelling via non-human mammals or meteorological events. No cover nods to other great artists. This time it’s personal. It immediately reminded me of the first earthshaking bars and lines from “Set Out Running” on “Furnace Room Lullaby.”

Side note: I do not believe it is a coincidence that “Set Out Running” made the cut for performance-ready songs on the ongoing tour supporting the new record.

“…Would you like to be the king’s pet or the king? I choose odorless, and invisible, but otherwise, I would choose the king. Even though it sounds the loneliest. There’s no mother’s hands to quiet me.”

For someone who lost both her parents (with whom she was not close) and a very dear grandmother in the years since the release of her last studio record “Middle Cyclone,” this seems like too much to bear, even for the listener. Just where is this thing going?

“Night Still Comes” owns the second slot on the recording - a slot I’ve always believed should be reserved for the definitive song on any record. It is the “troop leader” as Ms. Case described it to Jian Ghomeshi during this Studio Q interview.

Like the whole of the record, it is textured, and layered, deeply. It rivals any of what fans might consider her best songs ever: “I Wish I Was the Moon,” “Hold On, Hold On,” “Guided By Wire,” “Vengeance Is Sleeping,” take your pick.

“I’m a man. You’ll have to deal with me. My proxy is mine. You’ll deal with me directly… ‘Cause you didn’t know what a man was until I showed you.”

Ok. Heard.

“You’re right. I’m from nowhere.”

We understand.

“They won’t believe you when you say, ‘My mother, she did not love me.’ … You’ll hear yourself complain, but don’t you ever shut up. Please kid, have your say. Because I still love you. Even if I don’t see you again.”

Oh good grief. Here come the tears.

“The Worse Things Get…” plunges and climbs through the registers and the arrangements, rich and sparse. Horns and distorted guitars. Keyboards and melodies and harmonies and lyrics bold as crimson and some so emotionally fragile they teeter on the edge of shattering like an heirloom vase perched on the mantle.

Who’s on the other end of the phone on “Calling Cards” or the subject of the pop-tinged “City Swan?”

“I can’t look at you straight on. You’re made from something different than I know.”

What? Really? Who carries that kind of gravity and how do they survive it? Who on Earth would NOT want to be either of those people? Don’t lie. You know you wish it were you.

“Cease to know or to tell or to see or to be your own... You are beautiful and you are alone. Banish the faceless, reward your grace.”

Go ahead. Shed another tear or two.

“God damn the time and God damn the miles that take me away from you. And change the way I love you.”

Sniff.

I hope, lady, you left the stranger who found your fire something nice.

Find me a more richly, heavily, complexly layered three minutes of music than the last half of “Ragtime.” Go ahead. I’ll wait.

“I’ll reveal myself invincible soon.”

I think you just did.

P.S. If someone can tell me, definitively, what the rounded lyrics at the end of “Ragtime” are, a beer or two (or a cup of coffee or tea or a fucking chai latte or whatever) on me.

Is it ok to expect continued excellence based on occasional moments of genius? After 30 minutes or so chucking this around the campfire with a good friend of mine, we concluded the answer is “No.” And when it comes to art, preference and beauty and genius are highly subjective.

An artist doesn’t give a fuck about what one audience member out of hundreds of thousands wants. And that’s as it should be. And moments of brilliance are rare. Which is also as it should be. Just because I didn’t really dig “Middle Cyclone,” and “Fox Confessor Brings The Flood,” doesn’t diminish their value.

That said, “The Worse Things Get…” is Ms. Case’s greatest work entire to date. (Oh yeah, she’s its executive producer, too.) It’s intensely personal, which helps explain its power. It’s deep. It’s honest. It’s a roller coaster. It is sonically layered and diverse. It is what everything she has done up until now has led to.

I’m still not sure I’m ready for another live show, and that’s ok, too. Don’t worry. I’ll see you when I’m ready.

Bravo, lady.

On To The Next

Two weeks ago my boss asked for a meeting. “Certainly,” I replied.

“I’m up here delivering employment renewal letters to the staff,” he said. “I don’t have one for you.”

Cue the stunned silence and queasiness.

It appears two officials to whom I did not report directly mandated this. It does not appear this was my boss’ decision. Regime change at many levels can precipitate internal changes anywhere. While I am certain this was somewhat emasculating and clearly upsetting for him, it was the first time a new dean and the provost had exerted such influence over the senior vice president for university advancement: a position that purports to report directly to the president of the university, just as my position purported to report directly to the senior vice president for advancement. I hope that the institution (and others) will provide full disclosure that this is possible when recruiting new hires in the future. Important note: my relationship with my boss was always excellent. He has always been and will continue to be a very decent and noble gentleman.

So here we are: two weeks’ severance and a modest amount of vacation “buy out.”

I had been dabbling in a return to my area of excellence, external communication and media relations, for the better part of two years. This very nearly came to fruition twice, but no dice. Regardless, this transition was going to be necessary, and this just happened to be the catalyst. It may be the best thing to ever happen to me. It just doesn’t feel that way at the moment.

After more than ten years in public relations and three years in higher education I have a small handful of warm leads for “good fit” positions and even an advocate or two on the inside. I have been doing a little side work for a client in the political arena and have recently had several articles published in an outdoor online magazine. I will be reaching out to some folks with whom I have spoken previously about a direct client engagement as well as to some trusted colleagues who I believe can provide sound counsel and possibly some direct assistance.

If you, or any of your colleagues, can use someone with high levels of external communications proficiency (including social media), project management and media relations experience, please let me know. If you have some writing that needs to be done and no one, or no time, to do it let me know. If you or your organization feel you have something to say, but are not quite sure how to say it, let me know.

Unless the opportunity demands that I postpone, I am still going to be in Idaho and Montana July 3^rd through July 16^th to test new gear for publication, pitch some client work, visit a company I would positively love to work for and to try to enjoy some of the restorative qualities that trip always provides.

Now, on to the next! 

I’m over on LinkedIn here: http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=17991521&trk=nav_responsive_tab_profile

I’m on Instagram here: http://instagram.com/snyder_pd

I’m on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/pdsnyder

Sincerely,

Paul

flatpickpaul@yahoo.com

404-414-4240

Why Tiger Woods won't win a major championship in 2012

In early March, I made a made three “friendly” wagers that Tiger Woods would not win a major in 2012. Admittedly I was less confident about winning those after TW won at Bay Hill (again) and showed up near the top of the leader board at Augusta.

One club-kicking week later, my wagers still look good and the logic behind what I started writing a month ago still holds true.

Why Tiger Won’t Win a Major in 2012.

At least part of Tiger Woods’ mystique is that for the first 33 years of his life, he was always been the best player among his peers, by far. I’m not a stats guy, but I doubt anyone could refute that statement if they chose to try.

Further, Tiger won an obscene percentage of the time when it mattered most (read: majors and big tournaments like the Memorial, World Championships, etc.).

During those three decades, he never, ever doubted his abilities on the course. The result of this is that Tiger hit shots few, if any, players thought possible. The result of that was a level of disbelief among and intimidation of every other golfer on the planet that led directly to the massive gulf of separation Tiger put between himself and everyone else. The result of THAT was Tiger’s holding of four majors simultaneously in 2000 and 2001,  72 tour wins (third behind Jack Nicklaus and Sam Snead), 10 Player of the Year awards, eight Vardon Trophies, and the kind of endorsement deals that could secure Woods and his progeny (and a few nations) for eons.

Tiger had been rightly recognized as the best player at every level in which he played. In light of his astonishing achievements and charisma, he was the most recognized, and arguably the most universally loved athlete on Earth. Ever. He never doubted himself, either on the course or off, until the harshest self-inflicted fall from grace in the public eye since … well since you tell me when because I can’t think of an appropriate comparison. Why would he have doubted himself? He had no reason to until Thanksgiving weekend 2009.

My initial reaction to his gated community driveway mishap, within minutes of the details-poor news crossing the wires, was, “Man, this story STINKS to high heaven.” As for how that went, if you don’t know, you’re doing it wrong. Go look it up.

Prior to that mess with the Perkins waitress, and scores of other women with whom he consorted (read: adulterated), and hundreds of millions of dollars in divorce settlement and endorsements lost, Tiger’s body was starting to show the limits of what humans can endure. The violence of his swing required four surgeries or procedures on his left knee. In one of his two most impressive major victories, Tiger won the 2008 U.S. Open in a 19-hole playoff over Rocco Mediate on a broken left leg. Yes, really.

(Tiger’s remarkable physical prowess and endurance begs the question of “performance enhancing drug” use tied to his previous physical training regimen and recovery from those procedures, but that is another story. Suffice it to say it is reasonable to suggest a cause for the acceleration of his game and his physical condition’s demise is the spotlight now on performance enhancing drugs and questionable, though not illegal, related practices. Do remember the allegations of strange blood treatments and the connection to a Canadian physician reported in 2009.)

The golf swing and the ability to compete at the highest level of the game decrease by several orders of magnitude when this occurs. It is undeniable that the torque generated by the violent nature of his swing for two decades has contributed to his game’s deterioration. Even when fully “healthy” in 2012, Tiger has no distinct advantage in distance with the driver or any other club over the field. I would suggest, however, that if he can win the U.S. Open on a broken leg, the mental toll taken by his self-doubt and self-loathing has been a much larger factor in his relative ineffectiveness as a player.

Quickly, let us give a nod to a few of his tour competitors. His competitors have risen while he has fallen and now they have been ahead for three years. I often give PGA Tour players crap because of the inflated prize purses and comfortable livings they make while happily languishing in the middle of the pack. But to the handful that painted the target on TW and the #1 world ranking (most publicly and notably Ian Poulter – even though he didn’t get there and most remarkably Vijay Singh who accomplished it well before TW’s decline in physical and mental health), I say well done.

Which brings us to where we are at the moment. None of the world’s top players (Rory McIlroy, Phil Mickelson, Luke Donald and the like) live with the specter of a failed marriage and the associated embarrassing infidelity publicly splashed across the globe floating around in their brains. This frees them up to focus all of their capability on the task at hand.

I always believed very strongly that a free mind and vivid imagination are two highly underrated assets to athletes.

Every poor shot Tiger hits brings new doubt in his game, which can fester quickly (if not immediately) into thoughts about personal shortcomings, which occupy the mind in a cancerous way to which few of the top players in the world are subject.

How large of a change between self-confidence to self-loathing and self-doubt can humans overcome?

For nearly a decade after I quit playing professional golf I could not enjoy myself on the course in a casual round. I refer to this as the “damn I used to be good at this” level of frustration. I simply could not adjust my expectations enough to accept the fact that I wasn’t going to be nearly as good without committing the required time and other resources, which I was not willing to do. It took me 10 years to do so. With every single lousy shot TW hits it is possible his frustration in this regard increases.

The wow, “I used to be good at this,” leading to “I used to be loved by EVERYONE,” to “I don’t really need to do this anymore if I don’t want to,” is the most insurmountable obstacle to Tiger surpassing Jack Nicklaus’ 18 professional major mark since Sir Edmund Hillary conquered Mt. Everest.

His figurative “drive” to excel that used to be a key part to his advantage over other players is weak. Despite all of his financial losses, his life remains and always will be comfortable beyond what anyone save royalty will know.

But for now, Jack Nicklaus’ 18 professional major tournament wins record remains safe (Tiger has 14).

The massive pile of karmic crap and self-doubt coupled with the “I used to be good at this level of frustration” and physical deterioration Tiger has brought upon himself translates very simply into the near certainty that I win those three friendly wagers.

Thank you for playing.

Paul

On apologies: making peace with Neko Case part II

On Apologies: Making Peace with Neko Case, Part II

Dec. 20, 2011

Months ago I published a rather critical review of a concert I attended in my much neglected blog. My intentions for the blog are for it to be as much a journal as anything and also a forum for items about which I feel particularly strong. This may not always be the case, but for the moment, it’s true enough.

That particular post percolated for months (yes, really) before I started writing. Once I started clicking the keys, I went through several drafts and periods of letting it rest. I wanted very much to capture precisely what I felt and meant without being too harsh or too soft, which I actually thought the piece achieved at the time.

I published the animal and tagged the subject in the interest of full disclosure.

That the subject, Neko Case, took the time to actually read it was quite a compliment. That she took the time to share it with her thousands of followers was simultaneously satisfying and horrifying. The backlash was immediate and a little nasty, which I expected. I went a few short rounds with a couple of particularly nasty respondents then let it go completely. (Pro tip: engaging in the comment section of a blog with rabid fans is the ultimate Danger Zone destination. Enter at your own peril.)

Fast forward four months and low and behold I meet someone who actually knows Ms. Case. They’re not “besties” or anything, but suffice it to say they’ve hung out and worked together on more than a few occasions. So I shared the post in question with him, thankful again that he took the time to read and consider it.

His reaction was complementary of the first few paragraphs and downright scathing of assumptions I made later, followed by rather insistent advice that I apologize.

At this point it bears repeating that I considered every word of that post carefully before publishing it. It is also noteworthy that I am both a musician with more than 100 paying gigs under my belt, a bigger than average fan of Ms. Case’s work, and worked as a booking agent for a stable of touring and recording artists for six months in 2005 during which I negotiated and executed scores, if not hundreds, of contracts.

Therein lies my quandary. Do I stand behind my statements or do I owe Ms. Case an apology? I feel like I’m wading into dangerous waters of integrity and morality here.

Although my assumptions about the production and booking arrangements were informed by experience, it is entirely true that I did not see the contract between the producer, the performer (or the booking agent) and the record company (if indeed the record company had a say in the concert contract, which I doubt, but could be true). I also believe it is true that the vast majority of touring artists, especially the backing band members, subsist on the razor thin margin of what they require to live combined with whatever value they assign to the satisfaction of loving what they do to eek out a living.

Ms. Case, in a tone that was quite frankly pissed in nature, replied that there was indeed a radius clause in the contract with the promoter that prevented an Atlanta play on the next night, an item that I identified as “bullsh*t.”

Ummm, yeah, oops.

Our mutual friend further suggested that my condemnation of the absence of a keyboard was equivalent to suggesting that the artist was basically stealing from the paying audience.

Ummm, uh oh.

“Don’t you think if she could afford to have a keyboard and someone to play it on tour she would,” Bob asked? “Don’t you think she probably said to herself, ‘God damn I wish we could have it! But if we add this, everyone’s pay decreases by [X] and that’s not acceptable based on what we’re projected to make,’?”

A fair point, especially if the collective performers’ pay rates are as skinny as they could be. Counterpoint: how much does it cost the producer to provide a keyboard and couldn’t the artist play the thing on the tunes that need it most without adding another member to the band?

I suppose there won’t be clear answers to any of this without dialogue with the artist, which would also require some detail that I’d bet my monthly bar tab she wouldn’t be particularly interested in sharing.

That said, I suppose an apology is in order for the following:

1. The front of house sound engineer: “sophomoric” was too harsh a word. I’m sorry for that. You’ve got a tough job.
2. Ms. Case: the audience is only one of what I’m certain are dozens of entities (not to mention the individuals that rely on those entities) to whom or for whom you feel responsible. I’m sure that’s quite the burden. I’m sorry for making statements based on questionable (and in some cases erroneous) assumptions that were hurtful.

I hope the artist will accept this fan and fellow musician’s apology. And tour with the Sadies soon. And stop in Atlanta.

P.S. Ms. Case, my neighbor Bob P. says, “Hello.”

Doppelganger du jour: @andishehnouraee and ...

I just couldn't keep this to myself, and maybe I'm late to the party, but wow, has this occurred to anyone else?

We love you, Andy! Mmmmhmmmm.

Ultimately, additional road capacity does nothing to alleviate congestion.

Due to the absurdly parochial and arcane manner in which transportation issues are addressed and discussed in Georgia, I have stopped paying attention to the regional T-SPLOST voters in the state will decide in June. Until the final project list comes out in a few weeks, I remain solidly on the fence when it comes to my position of support, for or against.


That said, if I had the undivided attention of every voter in the state, this is the message I would deliver. Adding capacity in the form of new roads or expansions does nothing to ease traffic congestion in the mid-to-long term.


From "The Economics of Traffic Congestion," by Richard Arnott and Kenneth Small as published in American Scientist, Vol. 82, "Any reduction in congestion resulting from capacity expansion encourages others to drive during hours on routes they ordinarily would not use. So measures to relieve congestion are at least partially undone by latent demand.


"The other  reason capacity expansion alone does not work is that congestion is mispriced. Because drivers do not pay for the time loss they impose on others, they make socially-inefficient choices concerning how much to travel, when to travel, where to travel and what route to take... The combination of latent demand and mispriced congestion may be so perverse that an expansion of capacity brings about no change in congestion, or even makes it worse."


If you're a real transportation wonk, here's the link to the rather complex article. http://www.econ.ucsb.edu/~tedb/Courses/Ec1F07/traffic.pdf


There's also this little gem about "induced congestion" from researchers at UC Berkeley who found considerable empirical evidence that showed every 1% increase in new lane-miles generated a 0.9% increase in traffic in less than five years (emphasis added).


http://www.daclarke.org/AltTrans/analysis.html


So dear reader, whenever our transportation "leaders" roll out the project list for which they will ask us to decide whether or not we want to foot the bill, please, please, please remember that ultimately building new roads or adding to existing ones doesn't do a damn thing to relieve congestion.


Sincerely,
Pauly D

The top attribute in a new hire: keep calm and carry on.

 

How do you define a crisis? How do you respond to a crisis? Do you create them or tend to make them worse?

Those were the first questions that came to mind when my compadres with Soccer in the Streets (Twitter: @soccerstreets) posed the question, “When you hire new employees, what do you look for other than experience?”

After a decade in the public relations industry, and countless disappointments in junior new hires with PR or communications degrees, I’ve about given up on the skills element. Those are learned on the job, not in the classroom. Additionally, experience seems to be worth less because a lousy supervisor will put up with a great deal that a good supervisor will not. This can reinforce and exacerbate poor performance thus significantly devaluing a candidate’s experience line on his or her resume.

So what do I really want to know? How do you respond to a perceived crisis, and are you more likely to make it worse or better? Consider this:

Is your first reaction to a potential crisis (either via breaking news, a phone call, email from a client or partner, etc.), “Oh. My. Gawd!!!” Or is it something less reactionary? “Ummmmm, uh oh. This could be a problem.”

Who wouldn’t prefer a cool, non-reactionary, thoughtful reaction?

The truth is there are very few real crises in a given day, week, month, or year for that matter. My contention is that our reactions to perceived crises are more likely to create a crisis than the original situation. And given the immediacy with which we all demand information, benign situations can often spiral out of control quickly by an excitable, reactionary response.

High volume, reactionary responses raise the level of anxiety among the entire team especially in a form of open office environment, which causes the performance of all to suffer. Of equal import are the parties the “first responder” engages. Does the person carbon copy the entire agency or team (or worse, the client) on a forward or reply email unnecessarily consuming billable hours at high hourly pay rates as the branches of the correspondence multiply exponentially? Or do they calmly engage their immediate supervisor?

Really. With which would you prefer to work?

So, dear reader, my advice to you regarding new hires is find out how your candidates define and respond to crisis, either perceived or real. In most cases the skills required to do the job especially among junior candidates and new hires will be acquired by training the employer provides and on the job experience. But a generally calm demeanor and sound judgment in response to a perceived crisis may be the most valuable attribute a new hire can bring to any organization.

In the sagacious words of my friend and RedSky PR co-founder Jess Flynn, “Keep calm and carry on.”

Photo credit: RedSky PR www.redskypr.com

Cheers!

Pauly D.

NFL Commish needs a vacation, or better comms people

Because it's timely and I'm an NFL fan (and season ticket holder), I'll weigh in here with something I think is important for anyone in a position of authority or happens to work in the communications realm.

If the ratified CBA the owners sent to the NFLPA yesterday was not exactly what the players union saw earlier in the week, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell stepped right in the poo less than 10 seconds into his media briefing yesterday.

Because the last thing I need is some kind of copyright gripe, the video is easy enough to find over on espn.com.

Said Goodell, "... The clubs approved an agreement that was negotiated with the players..."

Whooooaaaaa, hold on a minute cowboy. Really?

There are two big problems with that. 1. As stated above, if what you (eventually) sent to the players was not exactly what they saw earlier in the week, then no, it was not fully negotiated with the players. And 2. If it had been negotiated with the players why would you make a statement that implied ratification by the NFLPA should be a foregone conclusion? Wouldn't a joint press conference with Demaurice Smith and the player representatives have made a lot more sense?

Maybe the commissioner, who is famous for his up at 5:00 a.m., done around midnight workdays, needs a vacation.

Now I'm thinking I might be setting myself up to be Sam "Ace" Rothstein in that car talking to Andy Stone about Nicky Santoro in "Casino," but I digress.

Nevertheless, this brings me back to a recurring theme in the communications realm lately. Who is writing this stuff? Doesn't anybody pay attention to detail anymore? Doesn't anyone understand the magnitude of their words, written or spoken, in the public realm?

I don't know or care who or what's to blame for this epidemic, but all the commissioner had to say was the following and there would have been no backlash.

"The clubs have  reached an agreement among themselves that they believe is in the best interest of all parties and will allow the NFL season to begin as early as Saturday morning. There are details within this agreement that still need to be reviewed by the players' association, but we believed this is the most expeditious way forward at this moment. It is possible additional negotiation may be required. We thank the players for their efforts in bringing these negotiations to their current state and look forward to concluding these matters in very short order."

Period. End of story. No ruffled feathers. Players, your move.

How hard was that?

Making peace with Neko Case

I’ve been promising this post for too long. And now that I’m on the mend and think I have the proper (read: non-reactionary) perspective, here goes.

Back in April, I saw my sixth or seventh live Neko Case show, this time at the venerable 40 Watt Club in Athens, Ga.

That I live in Atlanta wouldn’t seem to make a trip to Athens such a chore, but in reality, it was. That’s a long haul back on a school night even when there’s not any booze involved. Fortunately the set didn’t go a minute over what I’m certain was the contracted 90.

See what I did there?

Oh yeah, by the way, why the hell wasn’t there an Atlanta play as long as the crew in the neighborhood? Some “distance/radius” clause to which the promoter made the booking agent agree?  Bullsh*t. They could’ve done double the revenue with essentially zero travel by adding an Atlanta play with no harm done to the Athens sellout.

I knew exactly what I was getting into with this show: same crew, same material. I was holding out hope of the one percent possibility she’d get into some of the Furnace Room Lullaby and Blacklisted material. And perhaps that the cool 40 Watt vibe would elicit some, well, I don’t know what. Those are long odds and one would’ve been correct to bet the chalk.

Here’s the set list: “Things that scare me,” “Maybe sparrow,” “Fever,” “People got a lot of nerve,” “Pharaohs,” “Hold on, hold on,” New tune, “Margaret vs. Pauline,” “I’m an animal,” New tune “Calling card?,” “Fox confessor,” “Red tide,” “Polar nettles,” “The tigers have spoken,” “Middle cyclone,” “That teenage feeling,” “This tornado loves you,” “Vengeance is sleeping,” New tune “Friday night girl?,” “Don’t forget me,” “Knock loud.”

I could rant until I’m blue in the face about what a travesty it  is that the crew is traveling without a keyboard with so many tunes that necessitate it, especially “Vengeance is sleeping,” “Red tide,” and “Don’t forget me.” Or about the frequency with which Case and Rauhaus change instruments that it impedes the development of any kind of groove in the show, or about the redundant set list selection. Or about the start/stop that happened somewhere mid-show. Or about the sophomoric front-of-house sound engineer. But that’s not what this is about.

Then I realized what I wanted. And I’m as much to blame for not figuring it out sooner.

While later lamenting that there aren’t enough Sadies tunes on the jukebox at my local, I realized I don’t want to see another Neko Case show. What I want is to see Neko Case with the Sadies. Awesome on their own account, stuff like “Loretta,” “I’ll be around,” “Set out running,” “Soulful shade of blue…” THAT is what I want to hear live.

So, dear Ms. Case, I’d never begrudge an artist their commercial spoils, especially after years and years of toil for meager wages. You, however, earn no more ticket sales revenue from my wallet until you tour with the Sadies. And stop in Atlanta.

Respectfully, Pauly D.

P.S. There's only one audio channel on this here Youtube video, but here's a little Neko Case with the Sadies (and Rauhaus, too).

Want to get something done in your next internal meeting? F*ck courtesy.

Two weeks ago I attended an all staff meeting of 20 or so colleagues. The meeting required a 177-mile round trip drive and consumed six hours all tolled.

That I directly contributed very little and the fuel, time and CO2 emissions wasted is not the point of this missive. The problem was the meeting was so riddled with useless anecdotes, caveats and content that had zero to do with my work, I left with a high level of frustration because I felt like we didn’t accomplish anything. But, hey, it wasn’t my meeting.

One week later, I hosted a conference call with my boss (who reports to the president) and my boss’ counterpart on the academic side (who, while I do not report to this person, outranks me by a wiiiiiiiiiiiiide margin).

“Paul, this is your call,” boss says. “Go ahead.”

Instantly I moved into a mode I didn’t realize how much I missed. This was my meeting. Absolutely fucking right, and we’re going to get this done my way, which means I’ll get you out of here by the time I promised. And if you’ll indulge me just a little bit, we’ll get everything done we need to get done. I further promise that if I seem curt or rude, I apologize, but it is only in the interest of respect for your time and accomplishment of the goal.

“Thank you gentlemen,” I started. “I want to keep this to thirty minutes and I have five agenda items,” which I then read. At times I feared I was being curt, especially when speaking to two genteel southern superior officers for whom courtesy is highly important. Nevertheless, I was confident I was doing the right thing.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said more than a few times. “But do I understand correctly that this is what you want? Ok. Just what I needed. Next.”

The call ended exactly thirty minutes after it began.

The feeling of satisfaction in my work at that moment was quite strong. I accomplished exactly what I set out to accomplish in the time allotted, managed to keep the conversation focused (even at the risk of offending two superiors), and left with a clear course of action agreeable and hopefully beneficial to all related parties.

My lesson for you, dear reader, is this. We have become overly courteous to the point of productivity loss and ultimately frustration. And yes, the title at the header was intended to draw attention, not to encourage you to be flat out rude.

That said, people would rather get through a meeting on time and accomplish the goals for that meeting than worry about being offended. Set your course, be direct, turn all conversation back to the topic, and move on.

Thank you and goodbye.

Pauly D.

Gospel truth: the ethics of sport fishing

Having recently seen a post in my Twitter feed concerning the ethics of fishing for sport, I felt compelled to address it here. It's mostly self-serving for both posterity and clearing my own conscience. But hell, it's my blog. I'll do with it what I like.


Since it is not possible to say it better than David James Duncan does in an interview with David Thomas Sumner from Weber State University, I'm just going to paste it here. Do with it what you will. Meanwhile, I'll be back on the water at the end of  the month.



[DTS] I have a lot of friends, eco-friends, who are good people but who give me a hard time about my fishing habit, telling me I am just torturing the fish. But I argue that there is a certain ethic found through that habit. How do you see it?


[DJD] I wouldn't call it an ethic; I would call it a spiritual truth. It's sacrifice that feeds all of us. Fifty-five pounds of toxic waste generated by the construction of a television set. Something slightly lower, but near that, to build a nice computer monitor. You drive up to the PETA [People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals] meeting and the grill of your car is covered with dead insects. You become a Jain where you only walk outside during the daylight so you don't crush insects, but you start to get sick and you've gotta take antibiotics and there is a holocaust that goes on inside you. You're killing these innocent organisms. I mean, there is no way to define anything as large and clumsy as a human being that doesn't involve an animal that is eating other animals the same as the rest of nature. We practice a beautiful traditional craft where you and I stand on land, and fifty feet away this creature from another realm is very quietly taking part in the food chain and through a work of deceit—a kind of low-level fiction—and through some incredible technology, we insinuate ourselves into that food chain, and we betray the sincerity of that creature. But in its struggle for life we feel its life in our hands. And that is important. Because we do hold other lives in our hands. Fly-fishing, in this sense, is an avenue to understanding gospel truth.


Amen, brother. Amen.

Self-directed: pro tip for travelers worldwide

In an endeavor not to sound like a complete snob, I will avoid the “this or that was so beautiful,” and “check out the fish porn,” I might have placed here for posterity and instead highlight a truism that reveals itself each and every time I travel.

The sad souls on those tour buses.

A number of friends asked before I left whether this trip was “self-directed [again]?”

Abso-fucking-lutely.

This is, at least in part, a meteorological necessity for me in this trip, but that is beside the point here.

The truism is this: adventures, like life, are more about the journey than they are about the destination. Those sad souls put their journey squarely in the hands of a volume tour agent and their bus driver. And the greatest destinations are often the ones a self-directed journey creates that you hadn’t expected or planned to reach and never would when tethered to another’s itinerary.

As it turns out, this particular trip went remarkably according to plan with zero adjustments required for weather, vehicular or bodily failure. Deano's legendary Old Trout (a 1996 Toyota Land Cruiser VX 4x4 turbo diesel that I am destined to own in this life or another) performed flawlessly and the capability of getting its occupants into and out of just about anywhere provided a liberty and security that would make any adventure more enjoyable. 

Which brings me back to those sad souls in the tour buses.

Many of our fellow trekkers on a well known track in the Fiordlands National Park started their trip in uber-touristy Queenstown, arrived by tour bus and returned the same way. Fair enough. But on numerous occasions I saw scores of travelers boarding and disembarking from neo-European tour buses into neo-European hotels and restaurants like cattle beholden to a schedule certain to end back in the stockyards or worse. It makes me cringe in sadness for them believing that the vast majority had no idea just how close they were (five or 10 km in many cases) to accessible, remote pure natural beauty than they would ever be again. They would see only what millions of others have seen before with zero opportunity to direct their own adventure.

Different strokes, you say? Ok, fine. But I will proffer that those sad souls missed out on more than 90 percent of what their trip actually had to offer.

So my recommendation to you, dear reader, is this: invest in a good map, top up your fuel tanks whenever you stop for food, and self-direct your adventures even if it means getting lost. Be safe, but be brave. More often than not your travels will increase in enjoyment, memories and meaning by several orders of magnitude.

Now with my apologies, a bit of fish porn.

Cheers!

Paul

Career searching advice: find the droids you're looking for.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” (Obi Wan Kenobi)

In nearly any form of professional activity, including career searching, the more intelligence one can acquire the more effective one should be, correct?

Not so fast. Timing, in all things, is crucial.

In as public a forum as this, I will not say with whom or when it happened, but twice I’ve attempted to develop a relationship with a relative stranger at Company X. The motivations were: 1. Learning more about the company and said stranger’s relationship to Company X, 2. developing a new relationship and 3. finding a career within Company X at a time when no specific opening was/is currently available.

Twice I believe I’ve initiated conversations (both via Twitter) with people who almost immediately perceived me as a threat. I cannot blame them for this. We dealt in the same realm of expertise. And how are you supposed to respond when the second question from your new contact is, “What is your profession?”

How many ways are there to say “Java engineer,” or “CPA,” or “public relations?” Any seasoned vet of any area of expertise would see through a semantic disguise or other BS. And if they didn’t, one’s endeavors might feel like subterfuge creating an element of remorse with which I would not be comfortable.

Therefore, is one better off trying to generate a relationship inside your area of expertise or outside of it? It is indisputable that the farther up the chain of command the better for situations such as these. What is less clear is how one avoids being perceived as a threat when seeking a new career with Company X.

The only advice I can offer gentle people is to dig, dig, dig … then dig some more to find the highest ranking officer within your area of expertise (i.e. that person to whom you would report) before letting on that your goal is a career with Company X. Then connect in the old fashioned way if you have to. Twitter is not the end all be all, especially if you don’t have the right person.

Comments, advice, experiences welcome!

Move along.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnjaUoR15dU 

For all the "comedians" out there...

For as long as I can remember, I was never the funny guy. I was farthest from the class clown, complete with the Michael J. Fox wardrobe that ensured I’d be the butt of jokes. Somehow I would often to get in trouble for what that clown did, which made me simultaneously furious with and jealous of really funny people. I must admit that much of this persists more than two decades hence.

I would like to think that my sense of humor has improved, along with my ability to be humorous. Isn’t it true that we all find our friends with the best senses of humor among our favorites?

Content of humor is one thing. But timing and delivery are critically important as well. The immediacy, temporal context and tonal challenges of the Internet amplify the degree of difficulty to the successful delivery of humor by a significant amount.

Only highly deft humorists and satirists can successfully deliver humor via social networks in words only (viral videos do not apply here). Indeed, humor runs the constant risk of, and often relies upon, being offensive. The cursory way we “know” our “friends” and “followers” in our social media circles increases the odds of offending them by several orders of magnitude.

I failed at that in a most epic and embarrassing way quite recently because I didn’t know one of my friends well enough.

Therefore my advice to you is this. If you are not entirely certain that your voice will be heard in the way that you intend it, do NOT post a reply, tweet, comment or other internet black hole of permanence. File it away and save it for the rare occasions when you can intimate it the old fashioned way: in person.

Barring that, it really is ok to leave some things unsaid.

Road signs of awesomeness

An upcoming and unexpected expedition to the other side of the world has me thinking about road signs. Though quite simple items in and of themselves, they manage to impart a variety of emotions in their observers: despair, security, anticipation and deep satisfaction.

The last time I drove from my home town of Cincinnati to my dad’s native Colorado the first road sign for Denver on Interstate 70 westbound somewhere in Kansas read, “Denver 560 miles.” Uggggh. After logging more than 600 miles to get to that point, that particular sign almost taunts the reader as if to ask, “You sure you can handle another 560 miles of featureless road travel? At 70 miles an hour?” This is especially dispiriting at what was often 2:00 a.m. and we always made those trips non-stop.

But that sign also is the first to confirm that, yes, this is still Interstate 70, you are still tracking westbound, and yes, eventually, this road will get you to Denver.

On more than one occasion I’ve missed a key turn up in the hills of east Tennessee, and little is more reassuring than when you wind up on a backcountry dirt road and the sign for which you are looking appears. “Holly Flats 6 miles.” Ahhhhhhhh. Yes!

There are few emotions I enjoy more than anticipation. It is often in those moments of great anticipation that I feel most alive because just as often, the place or moment that I’ve hoped to achieve passes into history more quickly than anyone would prefer. The anticipation always lasts longer.

On my first trip to the south island of New Zealand, road signs and a good map were the greatest security blanket a solo traveler could ever have. “Rolleston,” “Ashburton,” “Geraldine,” “Fairlie,” “Tekapo,” “Twizel,” and “Omarama,” come to mind.

What I didn’t realize in that first trip was that I had a VERY specific destination in mind. I didn’t get there, because I didn’t know how badly I needed to.

The second trip, I made absolutely certain I got to exactly this place. Now, this isn't me in the video, but it was absolutely the clincher in the motivation I needed to take the plunge and make my first trip to New Zealand. http://www.sexyloops.com/movies/themanandhisfish.shtml (Note: select "or download" next to "Use on site" on the right side of the screen. Also note, the audio in the first 30 seconds of this video is NSFW).

Despite the copious amounts of fish porn and God’s country landscape photographs I collected on that trip, my favorite images are of road signs. They all owned each of those three best attributes a road sign can have: security, anticipation and deep satisfaction.

The road sign that reads “Te Anau,” is special for several reasons. First, it is not possible to go more than 50 km farther south before the next land mass becomes Antarctica. Second, Te Anau is tantalizingly close. Finally, THIS was exactly where I needed to be. Badly. It is in the town of Mossburn, where Highway 97 meets Highway 94. (You'll just have to trust me that yes, this is what it says)

Farther south, not possible

The next is even more specific. There is a particular river, which shall remain nameless here, that was a high priority for that same trip. For many of the same reasons as the previous sign, this is particularly awesome. What makes this sign superior, however, is the sheer variety of amazing places within close proximity to where the reader is standing.

Road sign of awesomeness

I plan on visiting these signs in early March and greeting them as dear, dear friends.

Does that make me weird? If so, fine by me.

No exit, no problem.

Lowbrow for the burbs: side eye to the AJC

When news of the NFL’s fine of $50,000 for “refusal to cooperate” in the case of lewd text messages allegedly sent by future NFL Hall of Fame Quarterback Brett Favre, media coverage was predictably swift and salacious.

But when the Atlanta Journal-Constitution posted the story to its website at first the headline read, “Favre fined for sexting.”

Wait. What? Really? “Favre fined for sexting?”

Because this was all together misleading and inaccurate I tagged the AJC in my Twitter feed suggesting they correct it. Minutes later the headline read, “Favre fined ‘over’ sexting.”

Ummm, no. That’s still not right, and borderline libelous.

One more direct message exchange with the staffer on duty for @AJC and minutes later the headline read, “NFL fines Favre in sexting probe.”

Oh good: corrected by putting “sexting” and “probe” together. Well done.

Perhaps even more egregious is the anti-City of Atlanta slant to which the AJC has turned its “news coverage” in an effort to attract more suburban readers. Creative Loafing (@cl_atlanta) rightly exposed that in some detail. http://bit.ly/gEQuMM

Hell, the AJC even vacated their city center offices on Marietta Street for suburban digs on the filthy congested north end of the Interstate 285 perimeter.

Is this really what you think your high-growth OTP target audience is after AJC? Can you not aspire to something, ummm, well… better?

In the toxic TMZ era in which we live, keeping headlines salacious is beneficial to content providers. I get that. The more click-throughs, page hits, shares, etc., the more a media outlet can charge its online advertisers; a necessary evil as newspapers in particular struggle to monetize their content in a time in which hard copy circulation remains weak at best.

But you’re taking the easy way out, dear AJC. Side eye in your direction. Correction: this is a downright nasty glare.

In an effort to give credit where it’s due there are several hard-working, and almost certainly underpaid, reporters at the AJC that provide valuable content I happily consume: SOME breaking news, Falcons, Braves and more. The team of staffers charged with maintenance of the AJC’s Twitter feed (@ajc) is quite responsive, a characteristic that matches perfectly with the high value of audience engagement and online community building.

I suppose then what I’m asking the AJC for is this. As our region’s flagship print and online news provider with a long and noble history, could you please bump it up a notch or two in the class department? Because if you’re going to insist on shoehorning “sexting” into headlines no matter what, and if you’re going to extricate your headquarters from the city that bears your banner’s name, I’ve never been prouder to be a part of the audience that is trying to find other sources for local news.

Twitter Primer For Newbies: (Hat Tip to Karin Frost)

Because my friend Karin (@karinfrost) is new to Twitter, I thought it would be appropriate to publish a lightly refreshed edition of my Twitter primer. Have at it! Hope it's helpful!

Start here and read: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twitter

Ask yourself why would you do this? – I started using Twitter primarily to expand my media reach and relationships with reporters and editors on behalf of my clients and my own professional development. It has since become a powerful business and social networking platform that I use actively. The beauty of Twitter is its ultimate level of customization. Many younger users Twitter just to keep up with their friends in a broader way than text messaging would allow. NOTE – it is important to be patient and persistent in building your network of followers in order to use this tool effectively.

Log on to http://twitter.com

Pick a user name and password. Picking a user name is VERY important and varies based on your purpose for that user.

Some users use either their real names or something very close to it – as I do, @pdsnyder. These users are prepared for EVERYONE to know what they’re saying because Twitter is part of the viral, social media beast from which we benefit, but can also get VERY quickly burned. For business users, this requires a high level of caution in what/how you Tweet.

Some users pick fictional names or nicknames as their "handles" to remain relatively anonymous (except to their close friends). This gives them a freedom of expression that identifying their real names would eliminate.

Go find some friends that have Twitter feeds and see who they’re following. You can search Twitter by last name or user name. Since many last names are common, you will often have to sift through many users before you find your friend. www.search.twitter.com is also effective for finding friends and other users that share your areas of interest and expertise.

Review a few user feeds and start following some people.

Start Tweeting

Tweeting consists of answering the question, "What’s happening?" in 140 characters (characters, not words) or less. Any links count too, which is why websites that compress like http://bit.ly are popular.

Four habits of effective Tweeps (people who use Twitter, particularly those people that follow you, or that you follow)

They provide news and data on their area of expertise

They re-tweet (RT) news and data from other Tweeps that they believe is valuable

They keep their posts to Twitter to 120 characters or less to encourage re-tweets

They tend not to suffer from Twitterhea (Tweeting too often or irrelevantly)

They give a sprinkling of Tweets about their personal lives (I do this about sports, playing poker, and travelling)

Effective Tweeps enjoy larger numbers (and higher quality) of followers

How to increase your following

Re-tweet other Tweeps’ tweets

Engage directly with your followers via “@” replies or direct messages

Request re-tweets on news that you believe is very important or relevant

Refrain from Twitterhea

Respond or reply to requests for information to Tweeps you’re following (there is a reply function at the end of each tweet that comes into your feed)

Ask friends or colleagues in other correspondence if they tweet, and if so, what their Twitter handle is

Include your Twitter "handle" in e-mail signatures if you use it for business purposes

Good luck!

Pauly D