Yesterday, I FedExed our luggage to a resort in Puerto Rico we’ll be visiting next week. The driver returned an hour later and said, “I didn’t realize it, but you gave me a domestic air bill. Puerto Rico requires an international air bill.” Sure enough, Puerto Rico is listed  on the FedEx site along with Estonia and New Zealand under foreign countries!

I completed the international air bill and customs forms, and then informed the resort that my luggage was en route. My contact there apologized, and said it couldn’t arrive today because it’s a national holiday and FedEx wasn’t working. But it would arrive on Monday. (We get in Sunday night, but always have an overnight bag, so no great harm done.)

I began to wonder what holiday would shut down FedEx in Puerto Rico but not the U.S. Upon investigation, I learned it’s the Epiphany, when the Magi visited the newborn Christ and brought gifts.

In a boringly politically correct world, I found these realities quite interesting. Puerto Rico, where people vote for President, is not considered part of the U.S. by FedEx, and then celebrating a Christian holiday as a “national” holiday. Who knows what today will bring?

As I’ve always maintained, I’m constantly surprised by how stupid I was two weeks ago.

© Alan Weiss 2012. All rights reserved.

The Thinker or The Prayer? Captured by Guido Quelle on the shores of an island in Lago Maggiore, Stresa, Italy.

Some lessons from Hurricane Irene. By no means do I intend here to minimize the losses due to this storm for many people. But I think we all have to learn from extraordinary circumstances and, at all times, to be our own best counselor.

• On Saturday we had lunch at the Wauwinet Inn in Nantucket in an almost eerie calm, as still as I’ve ever seen that remote part of the island, not a leave or blade of grass stirring. We took the ferry to Hyannis that evening on a calm sea with mystical fog. We drove back to East Greenwich on empty roads, as quickly as we’ve ever traveled that route. The next morning we were in 60 MPH winds with tree limbs crashing down and no power. But our house had been well prepared and has an emergency generator. What are you doing in the calm before the storm? Many consultants tell me, as they bemoan lack of business, that they couldn’t handle the business if all four proposals outstanding were accepted at the same time. That’s beyond a crime—it’s stupid. You need to prepare for storms.

• In 48 hours of nonstop (and 95% repetitive) weather reporting, I found only one person of truth and non-calamity. (If you pay people to talk about catastrophe, they find or invent catastrophe.) The meteorologist on the NBC affiliate in Boston said something to this effect: “I don’t want to understate this or tell you not to take precautions, but by the time Irene gets to the Boston area it’s going to be a tropical storm and will not be as bad as predicted. There can still be damage and danger and you should use precautions, but I think we’re going to be better off than we had feared.” We need to use judgment and the facts available, and not jump on runaway trains. This was the only source I came to trust, and I loathed the “meteorologists” using computer models to talk about low pressure and worst cases reading their Teleprompters. Are you providing best judgment and creating trust, or trying to scare people and/or just repeating conventional wisdom?

• Both our town and the local power company sent recorded messages on several occasions to my personal and business phones apprising me of progress and what to expect, including: emergency centers, garbage collection, evacuation areas, traffic access, and so on. Knowing what was happening so easily was calming and obviated the need to make calls and search for information, which probably made their activities much easier to complete, as well. Are you keeping clients informed of both good and bad developments so that there are no surprises and people aren’t trying to find you and ask questions? Do you practice full disclosure?

• Our cable system went down for an evening. But we have satellite, so we could use that for TV, and I have a Verizon card which I could use on my lap top to take are of email and web business. Do you maintain alternatives to get key aspects of your business completed and maintain your important personal activities?

• Our daughter, her husband, and our grandchildren spent the day at our house when their power went down. We saw many homes with a dozen cars in the driveways. People were helping each other out. Do you have a support network that’s available and accessible?

• The inn in Nantucket told us that we could check out late on Saturday, and if our ferry didn’t run we could return for a few days at half-price to ride out the storm. Do you make offers to clients that gives them comfort and build relationships by the very gesture, even if the offer isn’t used?

• We toured the neighborhood as the storm subsided to learn what had happened and the extent of the damage, which was nothing compared to prior storms we’ve experienced. Then we found some entrepreneurial restaurants that had opened up as soon as they could, and tried a completely new place. This morning we’re going to work out, as usual on a Monday, because the owner of our health club will certainly have it running bright and early. Are you resilient and can you bounce back quickly?

Storms pass. Your values and beliefs don’t.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I’m sitting in a beach house at the Castle Hill Inn in Newport, watching the Atlantic roll in about 20 yards from my porch. It’s the first sunny day this week, while I’m here conducting the Million Dollar Consulting® College.

It’s a bright day that holds a great deal of promise. But doesn’t every day? Nietzsche said that “a day has a hundred pockets if we but know what to put in them.” A great many people awake with that positive potential, but a great many also awake asking themselves how on earth they’ll crawl through the day.

There are reasons to dread a day: illness, loss, disappointment. Sometimes life hands us grief. But too often we create our own grief. We fear, we resist, we procrastinate. Most of the time, we create our own day through our own optimism or pessimism and, in so doing, inform our behavior, our impact on others, and our success (or lack of it).

Day after day we can build on the opportunity of life or flee from its threat. After a time, these habits become ingrained, which is why you meet constantly happy and supportive people, or those already sour and defeated at 8 am.

Life is short for all of us. The horizon draws closer every day. How we choose to spend those days is up to us. Those waves outside are unceasing, but life is not. Make the best of it while you can.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

Easter Bunny

So the boys and I hit a bar famed for its burgers and for a psychic who chooses the beer for you. Unfortunately, the boys just can’t drink well.

May you and yours experience the warmth of family and friends and rejoice in health, peace, and prosperity. We wish you the very best.

Jean Marc XO vodka is the finest in the world in my opinion, and a couple of our favorite restaurants stock it just for me. At the Post Office Café in East Greenwich, the manager, Christopher, asked one of his other customers to engage in his favorite hobby and make a lamp out of one of my many exhausted bottles.

And for those of you who thought I was kidding, here are the tulips I’m raising in my retirement. (I am kidding.)

I’m a product of the pubic school system when it was an impressive place to learn, even in the inner city. When I attended grammar school, teachers were regarded as the most highly educated people in the community, were respected, and were authoritarian. In Hudson School, in Union City, NJ, there were perhaps 30 teachers, only one of whom was male.

The school itself was a former cheese factory of some kind, a three-story structure where the janitors were forced to place traps in the dank corners in the winter to control the rats and mice which, through countless generations, had populated the place. The cheese was simply a dim, racial memory for the current vermin.

In the third grade, I was the kind of kid you probably hated. I was teacher’s pet, vied with a nerdy girl named Carolyn for top honors in every category, and was saved from extinction by the fact that I was also one of the best schoolyard athletes around.

About once a month, a special teacher would visit us in Miss Mandelkern’s third-grade classroom. Her job was to focus on spelling and language, and she would be allotted about an hour of classroom time. I don’t recall her name, but she was quite old (especially to a third-grader), and wore a horrible wig, which was immediately identifiable because it was always skewed somewhat to starboard.

One day she launched an exercise to have us provide a word that began with each letter of the alphabet. As others volunteered “cow” and “dog” I bided my time.

Sure enough, we arrived at “X.” I waited, a cheetah on the savanna, poised for a monumental explosion of speed. A girl offered “X-Ray.”

“No,” said the special teacher, “that has a hyphen.”

I allowed the silence to continue for several delicious seconds, then up shot my hand. Miss Mandelkern beamed.

“Xylophone!” I pronounced, as my classmates stared in envy (or it could have been revulsion).

“No,” said the special teacher, “that starts with a ‘Z.’”

Miss Mandelkern lost eye contact with me as I slumped back, stunned. My classmates began to snicker. I don’t remember what happened after that, I may have wound up in the nurse’s office.

Later that day, one of my friends said, “I looked it up over lunch. ‘Xylophone’ does start with ‘X.’ You were right!”

I learned from that 8-year-old experience the following:

1. A position of authority does not create infallibility.
2. Those in authority often back each other, at least through passivity, ignoring (or even harming) the customer.
3. Life isn’t fair. You can be right and still fail.
4. If you feel powerless, you can be easily cowed by those with power, even when they’re wrong.
5. I would never, ever, let anyone tell me that “xylophone” begins with anything other than an “X” for the remainder of my life (though I do now keep “xanthic” and “xenium” in reserve).

I don’t care what’s on your business card or how many initials you have after your name. What you tell me had better make sense and not contradict what I know to be true. Play that on your marimbas.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

Of all my books, Million Dollar Consulting is by far my best seller, having something over 400,000 readers, in its fourth edition, and on the shelves for 18 consecutive years. That is relatively rare. Its name has created perhaps the most powerful brand in solo consulting, and its use is a registered trademark, as in Million Dollar Consulting® College. I can trace probably 90 percent of current revenues directly or indirectly to it.

So how did this come about?

I wrote my first book in 1988, when a colleague asked if I’d be interested in co-authoring a work on innovation (we would both conceptualize, I would write). The resultant The Innovation Formula went from hard cover to soft cover, became part of a HarperCollins strategy series, was picked up by Wharton, Villanova, and Temple, and was translated into German and Italian.

Based on its success, I pitched and wrote my first solo book for HarperCollins, Managing for Peak Performance. That went from hard cover to soft cover, and was translated into German. Based on that success, I pitched and wrote a strategy book, Making It Work, which never made it out of hardcover for the same publisher. And that was my last book with HarperCollins to this day, having placed my first three with them. (I now own Making It Work, and have re-released it as Best Laid Plans, a far better title.)

I then set out to write Confessions of A Consultant, which would inform executives about good and poor practices, how to choose consulting help, what to reasonably expect and pay for, and so forth. I had read in a National Speakers Association magazine that an agent named Jeff Herman liked to represent speakers and consultants. I sent him my first thee books and my latest idea, and he immediately signed me. (He is today responsible for placing my three best-selling books, and is still my agent.)

Confessions was rejected 15 or 18 times. Then one day Jeff called me in my car while I was returning from speaking in Hartford. I had one of the first car phones in New England in 1991, and it was a regular phone handset hard-wired into the dash of my Mercedes 450 SLC.

“I’m at McGraw-Hill,” said Jeff.

“McGraw-Hill!” I shouted. “They like the book?!” I considered McGraw then and I do now, to be one of the great business publishers.

“No, they hate the premise, but they are interested in publishing a book on how you can make a million dollars a year in solo consulting. That part of your credentials impressed them. Can you write a book like that?”

“In six minutes,” I whispered.

“I’ll tell them six months,” he said, putting his hand obviously over the phone, and then responded, “We have a deal, I’ll work it out.”

Four months later I had finished the manuscript and had offered to meet once again the senior business editor at McGraw, Betsy Brown, in her Manhattan office. This was our third meeting.

“We’re going into production tomorrow,” she said, “and we can’t call this Confessions of a Consultant any more. What do you want to call it?”

Standing, I said, “I’ll give it some thought.”

“Sit,” she said (you tended to do what Betsy Brown ordered, a strikingly beautiful woman who took no prisoners and whom I was always chasing after in the halls despite her stilettos). “I want the title right now.”

“Betsy, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s a book about how to make a million dollars consulting.”

“Ah, and there it is!” she said.

The rest is not just history, but my present and future.

What happened during this crazy journey?
• I agreed to write a co-authored book, though I had never done a book.
• I pitched a second and third book to the publisher.
• I joined a professional association and searched it for resources.
• I found an agent, having three books to bolster my credibility.
• I did not get depressed over all the rejections.
• I readily agreed to change the premise of the book.
• I visited my editor.
• I used a spur-of-the-moment title.
• I recognized a brand when I saw one.
• I was willing to transform my business.

I’m not smart enough to tell you what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I’m agile and quick enough to jump on what’s happening today. My story is not unique. You can find these combinations of luck, accident, resilience, and talent all over.

My reaction is to always push the throttle forward. I’ll slow down only if I begin to lose control. In the meantime, I intend to take a fabulous ride.

What about you? Are you racing into the turns or riding the brake?

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

The floods up here didn’t get to our house, which is on high ground, but our pond flooded and the waterfall erupted, taking out our water main. (You can see photos elsewhere on this blog.) Yesterday, upon our return from New York, the plumbers finally were able to restore things, and the water company arrived to turn the water back on from the street.

We’ve had the same plumbers—an extended family—for 20 years. I see them about 4 times a year for various things (this is a big house). We’re on good terms and know each other. I thought.

The father explained to me that the water should be fine but he was having it tested. “One thing, I’m afraid, will affect you,” he said seriously.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“For a few days or so, your wife won’t be able to cook,” he said kindly, as if consoling me.

“We’ll handle it,” I assured him. (We eat out 7 nights a week.)

Unanticipated event: Since we can’t drink the water for another few days, I’m not letting the dogs drink it (even though they drink out of the pond on occasion) and I’m filling their bowls with bottled water. Koufax particularly loves this, and I’m thinking I may have a longer-term problem here….

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

“When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I’d been out ’till quarter to three, would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?”

(From “When I’m Sixty-Four”
by John Lennon/Paul McCartney)

Arose this morning intending to make my birthday just another day, though every day with me is something special. The granddaughters are walking. My daughter and her husband are doing very well. My son is acting and directing, midway through grad school in Florida.

Maria and I are just back from Hawaii and London. I have five books and three major initiatives planned for 2010 (almost finished with “Million Dollar Speaking”), and for the next two days I’ll be involved with a brand new workshop. A cartoon strip will be appearing in the next 30 days here, we’ll be in New York next week, I’ve just acquired 17 front row, mezzanine seats for the Mentor Hall of Fame members to see the new Twyla Tharp musical about Sinatra, and our Bora Bora plans are set for the Million Dollar Club.

Back to this morning. Koufax saw my workout clothes and went back to sleep with Buddy Beagle. I went into the garage and decided which of the two Bentleys to drive. I heated both the seats and the steering wheel, and rolled off to my personal trainer. After that agony, I began my day in earnest, with some mentor calls and writing.

We’ll celebrate at dinner on Saturday officially, at one of my favorite steak places, Providence Prime, with a suitable, incredible wine.

The calendar says I’m older, but I can still feed myself. My hair isn’t all that bad, and I’m stronger than I’ve been since college. Never thought I’d be 64. But it beats the hell out of the alternative. And I think I’m in the most creative period of my life.

Who knows, maybe I’m just talking to myself. But I’m certainly enjoying the conversation.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

I have three new books I’m writing; four new global initiatives; trips to New York, Florida, and Bora Bora to coordinate; and six new restaurants I want to try. However, I’m distracted by a nagging concern.

Is ice skating a sport?

Can there be any activity classified as a sport where men wear feathers and women wear, well, as little as possible? Pole dancing isn’t a sport, though the Times had an article this past Sunday that there’s a movement in that direction. I would assume that’s from yoga classes and not Bert’s Gentlemen’s Clubs, Inc.

I realize that there’s a great deal of athleticism in skating, what with spins and leaps, although most of it is invisible, except to hummingbirds. Is it really a sport if it takes slow-motion replay to appreciate it? (Was that a triple, quad, or dodecagon?) Then I realized that hockey is a sport, and if you’re seriously dealing with a beer during the game you can easily miss a goal, and it’s more than likely to be the only goal. Which probably explains the interest in curling, during which you could read War and Peace and never miss any action. But can an activity with brooms be a sport? Well, cricket players wear sweaters. But, I digress.

I’ve been on the board of a ballet, and watching the dancers I realize that they are far better conditioned than any athletes, and they also jump and leap. But no one considers dance a sport. We’re not about to see the Royal Ballet competing in London in 2012.

Hold on, there’s ice dancing. That’s a sport. But again, we’re talking costumes and music. And all that sultry stuff, with tangos, and embraces, and meaningful eye batting. We’re almost back to Bert’s clubs.

Yet you can’t ignore all those jumps and leaps. What compares to ice skating that is unarguably a sport? Gymnastics resembles it, and that’s clearly a sport. Yet you don’t see fancy outfits with fur and feathers on gymnasts, although gymnasts’ attire is very skimpy, but that’s okay because everyone is 12 years old, lying about being 14. Yet gymnasts don’t work in pairs and the teams are people on different apparatuses. Who does things as pairs in athletics, akin to ice skating pairs?

Synchronized swimming! There’s a sport that involves people acting in concert, doing the same thing concurrently. No, wait: That’s been disqualified as an Olympic sport. That won’t do.

I guess one could judge by the fitness of the participants. In that case, I’d be inclined to keep ice skating as a sport, except for all that crying, win or lose. Grown men weeping like babies. Coaches crying. What’s that all about? And the flowers tossed all over. Can you imagine throwing flowers to a wrestler or basketball player? You’d be the one crying.

And if we went by fitness, well, then clearly golf and bowling are not sports. Although bowlers at least drink beer like people watching hockey, which I know is a sport. Except when it’s a fight.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

Here are some thoughts for beginning 2010 with the right philosophy and mentality. (In Cole Porter’s “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” Sinatra sings, “Use your mentality, wake up to reality….”)

Remember Y2K? Not exactly going to be more than a minor blip in the footnotes in Wikipedia, is it? No airline crashes, no banks collapsed, not even the alarm clocks failed. The “swine flu” has proved to be a rather average illness, with fewer deaths than those caused by the normal, seasonal influenza. All deaths are tragedies, but we must retain proportion.

Global warming? My reading tells me that no one is really sure how much humankind is contributing or even if we can seriously alter what we are contributing. The Russians just announced plans to create rockets to engage and deflect an asteroid that’s due in the next 20 years, that most scientists estimate has one chance in 450,000 of hitting us. (The Russians are understandably sensitive, since the last rock of this sort DID hit Siberia and leveled about 80 million trees a while back.)

There are those claiming that the government is hiding aliens somewhere, and that the Mayan calendar is predicting the world’s end, and that excess spray tanning will eventually end life as we know it. (Maybe it already has—have you taken a look at some of those “stars” on “Dancing with the Stars”?!)

We can’t fall victim to the panic epidemic.

My point is that we (fueling and/or fueled by the media) have a tad of a tendency to be apocalyptic. I’m not deep enough to tell you that it’s meant to represent expiation for our sins, or redemption for our hubris, or simply deal with the fact that, basically, no one understands the universe.

I can tell you this: Live each day to the fullest you can. That needn’t be a flurry of activity, it may be spent in quiet contemplation. But it should not be subsumed in fear. It should not be wasted in constant apology, but rather invested in ongoing contribution.

We are all too ready to believe that there are huge, uncontrolled forces trying to destroy our lives or at least manipulate our futures. I’m here to tell you that’s not so, and that empirical evidence does not support such a belief system.

My computer wasn’t affected by Y2K, nor was my brain (which recognized panic and overwrought reaction at the time). I’m concerned, not detached, about the challenges we all face, but I’m much more concerned about the pragmatics of how we educate our children, take care of the helpless, and make the streets safe, than I am about claims that medium-rare cheeseburgers will kill me if that asteroid doesn’t.

Maybe I can get the Russians to work on the burger thing. They apparently have plenty of time on their hands. But, in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy everyday life, try to improve the lives of those around me, and thereby improve and enrich my own.

© Alan Weiss 2010 All rights reserved. Alan’s latest book is Thrive! Stop wishing your life away….

ALAN’S TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS FOR CONSULTANTS
By Alan Weiss
(with apologies to everyone from the 16th Century and prior)

On the first day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
A large dose of self-esteem.

On the second day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the third day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the fourth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the fifth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the sixth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Six clients buying,
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the seventh day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Seven leads a-calling,
Six clients buying,
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the eighth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Eight speaking requests,
Seven leads a-calling,
Six clients buying,
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the ninth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Nine columns printing,
Eight speaking requests,
Seven leads a-calling,
Six clients buying
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the tenth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Ten agents calling,
Nine columns printing
Eight speaking requests
Seven leads a-calling,
Six clients buying,
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the eleventh day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Eleven innovations,
Ten agents calling,
Nine columns printing,
Eight speaking requests,
Seven leads a-calling,
Six clients buying
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

On the twelfth day of Christmas
My efforts brought to me,
Twelve vacation days,
Eleven innovations,
Ten agents calling,
Nine columns printing,
Eight speaking requests,
Seven leads a-calling,
Six clients buying,
Five inspirations,
Four great referrals,
Three great colleagues,
Two new ideas,
And a large dose of self-esteem.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

Every year at this time, as the weather turns decidedly colder and the leaves begin to fall, we see the arrival of some kind of beetle, which my wife and I call “the brown bugs.” They seem to lead a brief life in the cold, and they appear outside on the balcony and inside in the adjoining master bath, where they slowly explore the immediate vicinity. The photo shows one that I found crawling by me in my den this morning.

The Great Dog Trotsky used to simply eat them. (He was very adept at eating bees, by the way, and would sit silently in the flower beds, stunning them with a quick nip, then bopping them with a huge paw, and devouring them. He taught our terrier to do that. “Protein,” said my wife.)

Buddy Beagle finds them too slow to try to play with, although they do fly like ungainly World War II B-24s, and Koufax would not deign to even touch a bug, much less devour one. Whatever their natural enemies are, they seem to have disappeared, since there are more than the usual number this year. We see about four a day, though it may well be the same bug four times, I admit.

My wife puts them gently outside (where I’m convinced they come right back in again) and I simply tolerate them, since they only last about two weeks. They are hardy critters, not minding freezing temperatures. I absently noted one in the dogs’ upstairs water bowl, floating, and forgot about it. A day later, when I emptied the bowl into the Jacuzzi, the floating bug seemed to shake itself, and then walk away, none the worse for a lengthy immersion!

These bugs move slowly and fly slowly, resembling a bad Japanese science fiction movie with lousy special effects. But in their fortnight or so, they emerge, eat, mate, and I assume lay eggs for the next generation. This group confines itself to a small corner of our home. I’ve come to admire them.

I know that some of you would consider calling in the insect police, or fumigating the place, but we live here on six acres and saw four deer the other day on the way to our morning workout. I can’t be selective in enjoying nature. Live and let live. Who am I to destroy life that really isn’t causing me any problem?

I’m going to have to call my wife to remove the one in my den and put him outside. I’m sure I’ll see him again before too long.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

In 1882 the first Labor Day parade took place, an assemblage of thousands of people taking an unpaid day to celebrate the worth and value of their work. In 1894, Congress, with its usual speed of a decade having gone by, got around to making it an official day of recognition (meaning for most people, it’s now a paid holiday).

As entrepreneurs (the usual denizens of this blog), I’d like to suggest that there is a fundamental difference among “work,” “job,” and “career.” You can substitute whatever words you prefer, but here are my definitions (which I’m sure wouldn’t stand the rigorous validity tests of, say, Wikipedia):

Work: Temporary provision of physical and/or mental labor for compensation. It is transient by nature. (This is the problem with many “stimulus” plans for public works, for example. They are temporary and disappear.) You can work as a subcontractor to a consulting firm or a building company, until the project is over or your particular contribution is fulfilled (or no longer required). You “work” on a problem or an assignment. The focus is on your input, and the work is often singular, e.g., doing taxes, painting a building, writing a program. The pay reflects the time that is put in.

Job: Organized contributions which are continually (one hopes) required, normally involving diverse work. One can have a job as an accountant, consultant, plumber, radio talk show host. Our accountant’s job may include this kind of work: tax planning, investment advice, payroll services, and so forth. Jobs can be organized by others, or one can be self-employed. They are also usually input-based, commonly compensated by a time unit or event or task, and are featured by a title or description of the tasks: Your job is vice president of retail banking; your job is to drive the bus; your job is to sell insurance.

Career: Contribution of value which constantly evolves, expands, and extends one’s impact on customers, clients, and others. A career is not dependent on job title and can readily change to suit the times or to help change the times. People with careers tend not to identify with titles (and, hence, are never crushed when their title may be taken away by others), but with output and results of their talents. They will easily change the work, and alter the jobs, to create the desired outcomes. You may “work” at drafting, or have a “job” as an architect, but the career would be improving urban aesthetics or creating higher quality family interactions. People with careers are entitled to earn compensation based on the value of their contributions (though many tend not to do this, having been influenced by their former “work” or “job”).

As a consultant, for example, I’ve improved organizational and individual performance. As a mentor and coach, I build communities of learning and growth for the members. I’ve never seen myself as “producing reports” or “running focus groups” or “conducting a training” (a locution which is as bad as “gone missing”).

We’ve all experienced doctors, lawyers, designers, accountants, engineers, consultants, coaches, and other professionals who see themselves doing a “job” (filled with jargon, concerned about their own time, and focused on the next task), or even worse, merely “work” (just fill out the forms and see the secretary). Yet I experience postal workers, for example, who, despite some of the worst management in the history of public service, still see themselves making contributions (“I put some extra postage on this, you can pay me when you see me, because I knew you wouldn’t want it to be delayed”), rather than merely going through the motions of their work. My plumbers make contributions, they don’t just “work.” This isn’t about class or education or position. (Yes, good plumbers do not charge correctly!)

It’s about attitude.

So, despite the connotations of college kids looking for jobs, let’s call this “Career Day,” and start considering our own careers, and what they should be looking like starting tomorrow.

I don’t know about you, but work boors me.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

Did you see where Tiger Woods lost the PGA Championship to a 37-year-old who has qualified for less tournaments than Tiger Woods has won? Y.E. Yang kept his cool and beat the greatest golfer in the world in one of the greatest tournaments in the world. If you don’t lose your cool, no matter who is standing next to you, and believe in your ability, and play your own game, you’re going to win your share. This was an incredible upset, and a testimony to being unafraid. Tiger actually choked.

Now if we could just throw out the idiots who shout “in the hole” after every shot, maybe we could all enjoy ourselves….

My neighborhood gang grew up together in a highly urban environment. We were all poor, so no one noticed. (Later, out teachers would describe us as “lower middle class,” which was charitable, at the very least.)

Store owners treated us like the dirt we tracked into the stores. Even though we had some spending money, we were always suspect and never invited to stay. And these places weren’t outlets of Bergdorf’s or Nordstrom’s. One was nicknamed, “Filthy Phil’s,” just to give you the mis-en-scene.

But then a retired man named Bud took over one of the soda shops. He installed pin ball machines in the back, which we could play for a nickel. Large glasses of Coke were ten cents, and a chocolate-covered donut the size of my head was a quarter.

(Digression: We had chocolate, drank sweet drinks, played in the street, ate candy that was pure sugar, some of kids smoked, there were roaches and rats around, and very few vaccinations. Somehow we all grew up, most of us are alive, and just a couple still in jail. Sometimes, listening to the “experts” in the media, I would think that any kind of empirical validity test of their theories would demonstrate that no child ever grew to adulthood prior to 1980 or so.)

In most places, the soda was likely to be warm, out of the fountain. But Bud provided ice. “Wait,” we cautioned at first, “what’s the price of the ice?” After all, cold wasn’t worth the loss of a pinball game or donut.

“The ice is free,” he said, and we looked at each other as if we had found the biggest patsy in the world. Only about a year ago did I realize that the ice filled up (with frozen water) a large part of the glass which would otherwise hold product. We were ecstatic at the time. In retrospect, it seems so was Bud.

He would encourage us to stay, so long as we purchased something if we sat at the counter or tables. He didn’t put a strict time limit on us, but would remind us. Occasionally, we’d get something “on the house.” (One of the three pinball machines was relatively easy to win on, and we were surprised Bud didn’t replace it. I have since realized this was another stratagem.)

None of us wanted to be thrown out of Bud’s, and banishment was unthinkable. The gang hung out there. So we were careful, especially with Bud’s adult clientele, and managed a fine symbiosis.

Bud knew a great deal that people today don’t seem to fathom. The customers want to perceive they are getting a good deal. They’ll conform to reasonable requests in order to perpetuate their good deal (e.g., timely payments, no returns). Above all, they want to be treated like assets and valuables, not like expenses and distasteful interruptions. We always gave Bud the benefit of the doubt when he had to close early or was out of stock of some cavity-inducing candy.

I’m sure Bud has passed on to greater rewards. It’s a shame. I think he would have done wonders running GM, or my soon-to-be-former dry cleaner, or United Airlines. I’m suspecting that Filthy Phil may have had something to do with those.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

The members of the Million Dollar Club, which I host, have come up with an “accelerant curve” (presented by Mark Smith), which we’ve embraced and expanded upon to demonstrate the connection among products and services ranging from ease of entry/low fee, to high intimacy/high fee. But it’s a two dimensional model, basically, and I’ve also tended to think in terms of a “web” of interaction among members of a community. (My value proposition is that “I create community,” and “The Architect of Professional Communities®” is a registered trademark.)

Anyway, I got to thinking on the beach (always dangerous) and I realized that there is an exponential and reciprocating value growth in communities. So as to appear scholarly, academic, and “deep,” I’ve decided to call this REV: reciprocating, exponential value.

What the kid from Union City actually means is this: The more valuable a community becomes—because of intellectual property, resources, networking, interactions, speed of response, status, peer reinforcement, etc.—the more valuable it becomes to be a member of that community. As the fee increases for being a part of a constantly, increasingly valuable community, more and more people are drawn to it (as many of you have seen in my process visual where fee follows value until the lines cross, and value actually then follows fee, because people expect to get what they pay for—this is the very essence of a strong brand).

This community “engine” becomes self-reinforcing—reciprocating. The more people entering at increasingly high levels, the more value THEY bring to the community, making it still MORE valuable. And people are apt to ensure that the quality they perceived or desired is indeed delivered, and those responsible for the community are motivated to not only meet, but exceed those expectations.

You can create community with your clients; your prospects; your members; your audience; your suppliers; and so on. Too many professional associations falter because the don’t have REV. Instead, they just have people bragging to each other, or taking while not giving, or just putting initials after their names.

I’m sure some of you in this community will find ways to use this for your own growth and prosperity. And so I mention it here, as my thoughts continue to formulate about REV.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

We saw the Tony-winning “God of Carnage” last night from house seats. Billy Crystal sat in front of us, and I reminded him that he shook my hand in the front row at the conclusion of his one-man play a while back.

That was the highlight of my evening.

Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, James Gandolfini, and Marcia Gay Harden moved from the expected to the predictable, two couples ostensibly trying to reconcile a fight between their sons, but who wind up in violent argument themselves. You know what’s going to happen from ten miles away, so the tension is in how it transpires. Despite the mostly excellent acting (I find that Gandolfini reads his lines, and it’s not the Soprano connection that does him in, it’s his acting, which is emotionless), the ten miles is a long trek on tough roads.

About a third of the packed house laughed at lines that not only weren’t funny, but I’m convinced the playwright never intended to be funny (the work, by Yasmina Reza, is a translation). This is an increasingly bizarre nature of the theater today: People who seem to be desperately trying to convince themselves that they’re having a “good time,” and that they “get it.” They appear to want to justify the tab.

Daniels, probably the best actor on stage, was the stereotypical wheeler-dealer who kept taking cell phone calls. Finally, obviously, the cell was ripped from his hands and dunked in a vase, which was greeted with applause. Get it? We’d all like to do that, right? (Meanwhile, a guy across the aisle took a quick text message and returned it on a glowing screen. I guess he was a brain surgeon doing a remote consult.)

The obligatory, sort of sporadic, tepid, standing ovation followed the evening, the kind that begins with a few people standing up and blocking the view, as opposed to everyone leaping to their feet. The good news is that it is one scene, one act, and we were out at 9:40 before 10,000 other theater-goers, and it was easy to get a cab back downtown.

I had to thank God the carnage was that brief. Otherwise, I might have left at intermission, which one couple chose to do ostentatiously an hour into the drama. They scurried up the aisle as if afraid to be caught and dragged back.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”

May we all appreciate this evolving, great experiment in human freedom and dignity, not only what’s it has done for us who live here, but for those who have benefitted everywhere. And despite the flaws and faults that accompany a free and pluralistic society that critics love to harp on, may we relish the great contributions to humanity that our way of life constantly provides.

Enjoy the fireworks and the hot dogs. And be thankful.

In May of 1868, three years after the conclusion of the American Civil War, General John Logan, commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, asked that we “remember those lost….by gathering around their sacred remains to garland the passionless mounds with choicest flowers and raise above them the dear flag they saved.”

It is Memorial Day here in the U.S., and once again I’d like to take the opportunity to honor all those who have served in uniform in all countries in defense of freedom and human dignity, and who have responded to their nation’s call; especially those who have been injured, and most fervently to the families of those who, as Lincoln noted, “gave their last full measure of devotion.” May we all earn and honor that sacrifice.

I’ve just returned from my third trip to the Oklahoma Chapter of the National Speakers Association, one of my very favorite chapters among 50 such appearances I’ve made. Great people, wonderful hospitality, and a lot of class.

You see me with the vice president of programming, and extraordinary chauffeur, Shari (Sha-reee) Alexander, who is one of the outstanding speakers and consultants anywhere in terms of powerful communications tactics and influencing strategies.

Thanks to everyone for a wonderful visit. Looking forward to number 4 one of these days!

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

I’m blessed because people from all over the world write to me daily. This one started me off excellently this morning:

Alan: I have to tell you that I read your newsletter every month…
decided to get to your March newsletter this morning while eating
breakfast and ended up shooting milk out of my nose after reading the
ORTIYKM… section. As much as I get out of your newsletters… that
section is really why I keep reading..

Thanks for the laughs,
Wayne Franklin
Urban Sun Investments, Inc.

Ironically enough, on a day in which the New York Times runs an article highlighting the popularity of vanity publishing—self-publishing a book—which on average generates sales of 150 books in total, per author, it also dutifully records the death of one of our greatest men of letters, John Updike, who has sold millions of books to a public thirsty for his work.

As a junior at Rutgers studying creative writing, my instructor told us to choose one author and read his or her entire body of work. Accidentally, fortuitously, unthinkingly, I chose Updike, one of the great examples of why it’s often better to be lucky than good in your decisions.

I began and continued to read his works, and am currently finishing his latest, The Widows of Eastwick, providentially written about the area were I live (“Eastwick” is a combination of my town, East Greenwich, and the adjoining Warwick or Wickford, I’m not sure which). His final book will appear in June.

When I think of great, contemporary writers I tend to think of John Irving and Phillip Roth, but Updike has always stood apart for me, a man of enormous intellect whose non-fiction and criticism are as lyrical as his fiction. Best known for the “Rabbit Run” tetralogy, his works actually range far and wide, always describing the nuances of middle class life and values (or lack thereof).

Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom resides with Jay Gatsby as an epochal fictional presence in American letters. The “Rabbit Run” series is one of fewer than four or five I’ve ever read twice, at vastly different stages of my life, to gain further understanding.

I want to continue reading Updike’s body of work but, alas, it is approaching completion. I think back to that assignment in late 1966, and I realize that I, too, am nearing completion.

I conducted the first Self-Esteem Workshop earlier this week in Rhode Island. The other session is taking place in Dublin, Ireland, on February 3-4:

http://www.summitconsulting.com/self_esteem_workshop_dublin.html

The population was entrepreneurial: consultants, speakers, facilitators, coaches, and a singer/songwriter.

Here are some learning points I think are worth sharing:

1. A large proportion of attendees (about 75%) felt “alone” when very young, either because they perceived themselves to be different from others or were somehow not in a “traditional,” loving family. And where are we now? In a profession that requires a certain strength in being alone!
2. “Lone wolves” don’t have much opportunity for exploring emotional issues with trusted peers. Life and work revolves too greatly solely around work, and most conversation is centered on work challenges, not personal issues.
3. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Most successful people have learned from setbacks and turned them into sources of strength and self-worth.
4. Forgiveness is critical. If you don’t forgive those whom you have perceived have hurt you, you become permanently enslaved to them (even though they might not realize it). If you allow real and perceived slights to fester, your self-worth will suffer.
5. Efficacy and self-worth are separate. You can be excellent at a given pursuit, but not feel good about yourself, and vice versa.
6. Personal relationships are a key foundation of self-worth. If you can positively and constructively engage in your personal relationships, your self-worth improves. Hence, poor relationships have to be improved or abandoned, but not merely maintained as poor relationships.
7. You can look at self-esteem as a “verb,” an action, leading to a condition, or “noun”: self confidence.
8. People carry far too much old “baggage” around, and it’s insufficient merely to drop it. You must throw it “off the train” so that it isn’t merely at your feet traveling in the same direction and at the same speed that you are. However, don’t jettison everything. Some of the positive baggage makes sense for the trip.
9. Positive self-talk is one of the most powerful tools to build self-worth. Stop apologizing and be honest about your own talent and abilities. Don’t generalize from a specific: Just because you didn’t understand a play doesn’t mean you’re ignorant about art.
10. It’s not about what life deals you, it’s how you deal with life.

*****************************************************************************
Well, Alan, this may have been one of the best workshops you’ve ever done!
Not that I haven’t loved the others, I have, but this new direction for you
was truly inspired and inspiring. GREAT experience! I am so glad you keep
re-inventing yourself, you only seem to get better and better, and by more
than 1% each time!

Many thanks, you really are such a great role model.

– Leslie Austin

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

Tomorrow is the greatest of the secular holidays in the United States, and I want to be among the first to wish everyone in my community the ability to engage in a peaceful contemplation of all that we have to be thankful for. Despite the tumult of the world around us and the cries that the sky is falling, the fact is that our resiliency in change makes us stronger and the sky is merely a reflection of the mysteries of this wonderful life.

Peace, health, and prosperity to all of you and your loved ones, all over the world. May you all enjoy long and happy lives.

– Alan

• The Chinese women deserved to win the gymnastics gold, the Americans simply choked.

• Those Chinese gymnasts have not yet seen 16, I don’t care what their passports say.

• Michael Phelps is impressive because of what he can do under immense pressure (media, expectations, world class competition, etc.). I remember when Bjon Borge was winning all those Wimbledon titles, a competitor said, “We’re all playing tennis out there, but he’s doing something else.” Like Sandy Koufax, Tiger Woods, Michael Jordon, Pele, Jackie Robinson, Joe Montana, Wayne Gretzky: When they were on top of their game, they were untouchable.

• The media are so protective of those they love. We’ve seen Michael Phelps’s mother and sisters frequently, but I haven’t heard even once if he has a father, if he’s living, and so forth. Wouldn’t that be more complete reporting?

• If you’re having trouble sleeping, watch synchronized diving. It’s about as zzzzz……..

• Sorry, I nodded off. The greatest swim relay, and greatest single relay leg I’ve ever seen was in that 4X100 with our anchor catching the French swimmer from behind, who is the fastest in the world. That was the most problematic gold for Phelps of the eight hoped for. The anchor, who came in second in the last two Olympics, said, “I was just tired of losing.”

• Bella Caroli, the great gymnastics coach, is simply great to listen to, all passion without any semblance of political correctness or tact. Bob Costas looks at him like he’s expecting his head to explode.

• I love competition decided by who finishes first, or jumps highest, or picks up the most weight, or touches a wall first. I hate the conspiratorial judging of events such as gymnastics or figure skating, where you always wonder who has the “fix” in. I remember watching trotters race at the Jersey Meadowlands one year. I asked a regular how he handicapped the horses. “I try to figure who has the biggest bribe behind him,” he said somberly.

• If you stop to scratch your nose, you miss the entire fencing saber competition. It ain’t about finesse.

• They have distributed 100,000 free condoms at the Olympic Village. I kid you not. The 80,000 of four years ago proved to be too little, and more were urgently required. Sort of brings new meaning to “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game….”

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.