Off road

I'm off the road for a few months now. Semester's done. End-of-class grading, post the grades, log off. Done.

By Rob Sinclair (Up on blocks  Uploaded by geagea)
via Wikimedia Commons

For the next couple of months, I'm archiving my knowledge of the back roads of Livingston County. Instead of weaving between orange traffic barrels with a coffee in one hand, I'll write. Take a course. Maybe get to bed a few minutes earlier.

I drive two hours each way, once a week, to teach in a university classroom. It's my alter-ego gig. I get to do what I love. The students seem to get it. Most of them, anyway. But after 14 weeks, a couple of oil changes, gallons of coffee, and worrying when to swap the snow tires for all-season radials, I'm pretty fried.

But I love it. I love the rush of helping students see the media, public relations, advertising, and social media from perspectives they haven't seen before. It's my hope they'll see whether a career in advertising, PR, web development, or journalism fits with what they want. Or -- and this is more likely -- they'll be equipped to choose a career path that suits them for a few years, before discovering what they truly want to do.

I like heading back to that quiet little town where my small university is one of the largest employers. I like the sounds of evening rain.

And when the fall semester starts in late August, I'll do it again.

Standing on principle

I sometimes chose which charitable events I attend based on the quality of the folding chairs the facility uses.

Seriously.

Many organizations sell tickets to these events that far exceed the price of a comfy movie theater seat. Nice meal, intriguing conversation, stirring presentations.

Chairs at MIT graduation. By Dan4th Nicholas,
via Wikimedia Commons.

But the hosting location often tries to save a few bucks by using folding chairs. Often plastic, wobbly seats, with inadequate support for your back or bottom. And they ask you to sit through multiple speeches and recognitions, plus a meal. 

And if it's a graduation ceremony, you could be seated for hours. Painfully, if it's at MIT's commencement, in the chairs shown in the photo.

(On Dave's Seat Comfort Scale, these rank at No. 8. If they were those undersized wooden jobs, they'd be a 9 or 10.)

I spent a few years in my corporate life attending luncheons, galas, etc. After a while, I had memorized which museums, conference centers, and universities provided reasonable seating. And which ones owned or rented the least-comfortable chairs.

The irony? Part of my corporate giving job at that time involved donating surplus furniture, including -- you guessed it -- chairs. Usually good chairs.

So, even if I'm a supporter of an organization, I really pause before sending my check. I'd love to attend, but I'm standing on principle. At $50 a ticket, I'm not buying a plate -- I'm renting a seat.

And it ought to be a good one. 

Dodgeball for the 21st century

At least once a day, I avoid a collision in some public corridor. 

I've been working in a busy, crowded building, filled with professionals. And nearly every near-collision (a near-miss would be a collision) results from the other person gazing intently at a smartphone as they walk.

Is this the new normal? Professionals transfixed by a handheld four-inch screen?

By PeterLigerry (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0
 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa
/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)],
via Wikimedia Commons

I was away from the business mainstream for about 20 months. In that interim, smartphones have become an inseparable extension of many people's lives. Perhaps a substitute for authentic human interaction. 

And while I own a tablet-esque device, I intentionally didn't bite on a full iPhone, because I wanted opportunities not to be drawn to stare at that screen. 

It feels like we're a few steps away, as a culture, from becoming hypnotized by these devices. 

I'm not delighted by this cultural change. I'm not thrilled at having to re-learn long-forgotten dodgeball skills just to walk down a busy corridor. Or sidestep pedestrians on sidewalks who are having a too-intimate relationship with a little box full of circuits and LEDs.

My recommendation: once a day, you should schedule yourself for a disconnect. A respite. Turn off your gadget. Remove your Beats or Skullcandy headphones. Maybe go find another companion for your walk. 

Two- or four-footed. Your choice.

 

Discards

Most of Easter Sunday was given to divesting of items amassed during my 17-year corporate career. This included a quantity of publications specific to a former employer's diversity and inclusion achievements. 

Which failed. 

When the company's balance sheet collapsed, diversity went from "must do" to "nice to do." The outfit needed diverse employees to design and market innovative products. But those employees saw the corporate commitment falter as cash flow ebbed. They knew their market value as executive men and women of color. And they fled. 

When you have black and Hispanic directors on your corporate board, and your CEO and chief of diversity are people of color, you should be able to make diversity work. But membership in the external organizations that validate your commitment to diversity isn't free. And those expenditures were among the first to be cut. 

I've saved those publications as professional samples of how diversity can be done well. Professionally, however, they haven't impressed would-be hiring managers. Diversity as a career skill seems less valued if you're not a candidate of color. 

Random Mentions: R&B, Ink, and an Olympus Stylus

J.D. McPherson's new R&B-flavored CD, "Signs and Signifiers," is a terrific piece of retro rockabilly-swing-R&B. I think he's from a punk band I don't know. This is very different. But you can sample a bit of this great recording here.

* * *

I have a very severe pen-collecting habit, heavily influenced by German-made Lamy Safari, Logo, and Noto ballpoints. But I'm currently hunting one of Uniball's rubber-body Jetstream ballpoint pens. They work very well for lefties. The ink usually dries quickly, before I can smudge it.

* * *

As the move the digital photography hastens, I'm left with a ridiculous quantity of outdated 35mm film. Most film can be used for a year past its expiry date, unless it's been kept in a warm place (think of a car trunk). Mine has been in a generally cool basement, but not refrigerated. So this week, I'm testing a roll of chromogenic black-and-white film in an Olympus Stylus camera. I'd forgotten what a joy these are to use. Photos to come, assuming they are printable.

Copy editors on Twitter? MIA

Journalists who live on Twitter -- and there are plenty -- like to re-tweet other news accounts, as well as their own. PR people call this "repurposing" content. If done thoughtfully, it can be a useful way to draw readers to content that they may have otherwise overlooked.

This re-reporting is less effective, however, when the tweeting reporter adds his or her own 'take' on the story. Not so much to editorialize, but to add a snappier 140-character headline to snag a few more readers.

Thus, a recent story about a developer who'd run into financial hurdles while trying to develop an upscale restaurant amid a street of bakeries, sub shops, Chinese takeout place, and a guitar store was viewed as a "swanky" neighborhood. His son had sold a popular gaming website for millions of dollars, a few years ago; the re-reporter on Twitter said the developer owned that gaming site.

Wrong. And wrong.

• Did the developer have financial issues? Yes. That was the accurate part of the story.
  
• Did the developer own the gaming website? Nope.
  
• Was the neighborhood in question a "swanky" area? Judgment call. In my opinion, one upscale steakhouse amid delis and OTB parlors isn't swanky.
  

My issue: if the re-reporter had submitted this to his or her news editor, that editor would have asked the questions I've placed in bullets, above. Great copy editors challenge assumptions. They insist on facts, and frequently overrule perceptions that can't be substantiated. Swanky leaps to mind.

Twitter has no copy editors. No one to challenge the veracity of news reporters who re-post material they didn't originate.

As a former newspaper reporter, I know how tough it is to file accurate stories, day after day, on deadline. That's why newspapers employ copy editors: to ensure the reporter's story has its roots in fact, not assumption.

Twitter has no copy editors. There's no one to hold writers accountable for repurposed, re-headlined stories they didn't originate.

So before evolving into a Twitter-based news service, re-reporters must make certain their breezy 140-character tweeted headlines are based in fact.

All the pen junkie sites you'd ever need

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