Just Plain Bill

“It starts with an itch!”

During an interview I heard the other day, journalist and television personality Charlie Rose asked Sting, singer, musician (formerly of the rock group Police), and current Broadway composer, “What starts the creative process that leads to writing a song?”

Sting paused a bit and said, “It starts with an itch.”

It’s a powerful and insightful response, one that can apply to unleashing the creative force that is found in all of us.

The “itch” may come in the form of an idea about making, or changing, or stopping something. It might be just a few words formed into a verse, a melody that persists in your mind, or a dialogue that appears powerful.

When I heard Sting’s response, I immediately thought of the writing that’s become a part of my daily life - Just Plain Bill - this blog that’s now closing in on two years of weekly creations.

Having also co-authored a best-selling Amazon eBook, The Virtual Office, I now have my sights set on “scratching the itch” and writing another eBook, Thrive at 65. It’s designed to help close the gap between what our growing senior population knows about the Internet and social media, and this population’s awesome opportunity to continue contributing to our society.

What’s your itch, that’s just waiting to be scratched early in the coming New Year?

Just Plain Bill

Do we all have an identical “twin”

in the universe?

Many years ago, while strolling through Children’s Fairyland in Oakland, California, I was shocked to see a man across the way that looked exactly like me. He was the same size as me, had the same hairstyle, the same hair color, and even the same gait as me. We were both moving through a large crowd, and before I could get closer to confirm my observation, he seemed to simply disappear. In spite of searching through the crowd for an hour or so, I reluctantly had to give up my search. Or maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to find him and confirm that I had a “twin”.

Getting a glimpse of someone who could pass for me sent a cold chill down my spine and I broke into a cold sweat…

I am reminded of a story by Daphne du Maurier, The Scapegoat, in which two men meet at a pub – one man quite well-to-do and the other down on his luck - and they imbibe and chat about their lives a bit. When one leaves to visit the restroom, he is knocked out. When he comes to, he discovers that he is now wearing the other man’s clothes, and has no identification of his former self.

The story is focused on how the chap who was down on his luck, finds himself inhabiting the life of the well-to-do yet not so happy chap…and the story proceeds from there with an ending that leaves one wondering what they’ll do when they meet again a few years hence. 

Not that my brief glimpse of a possible “twin” was something as dramatic and life changing as in The Scapegoat, but I often wonder what it would be like to inhabit the life of another.

I’m not talking about some contrived “reality show” setting here…I mean really assuming my doppelganger’s life, even if only for a short time.

Have you ever allowed yourself to at least mentally escape into the life of your look-alike?

Just Plain Bill

Can I ever see myself as others see me?

About 22 years ago, while chatting with a colleague from Bank of America, I made the observation that it’s not possible for me to see myself as others “see” me. Perhaps this is not so major an observation for others, but when the subject came up while discussing the elements of an exceptional presentation, it blew me away. It also led to a lively discussion about image, perception, non-verbals, ego, vanity, being “on”, self-concept, how to engage your listeners, what people remember, how the speaker’s message filtered - and so on.

That may be a strange realization. After all, can’t we see our image in a mirror, in windows we pass on the street, or even in a puddle of water at our feet?

In short, no, we can’t! Those reflections of “us” are two dimensional and lack depth or other dimensions we may project. It’s been said that we project much more than height, width and depth when we stand up in front of an audience. Time, temperature, even an aura transcend our physical presence. (I remember one experiment that used an infrared light to view the speaker’s image, which remained after that person had left the room.)

Over the 20+ years that have followed, this realization has impacted my teaching of presentation skills to college students and corporate managers. More importantly, it’s impacted how I personally present. There’s a much-quoted (and much debunked) theory, 55-38-7, which I first heard about at a YMCA leadership conference in Downey, California, in 1966. The site Blue Chip Musings provides a succinct definition of what the theory represents:

·     “When making a presentation, 55% of your impact on the audience is related to visual things…the setting, the speaker’s dress, AV aids, etc.

·     38% of the impact is related to tonality as it relates to both the actual sound and the accompanying emotions. (Does the presenter speak with conviction, resolve, passion, etc.)

·     The final 7% of impact relates to the words themselves.”

So, although the theory or rules listed above may not truly be quantified, nor are they the “be all to end all”, I’ve made sure I’m aware of the visual impact I’m making, the tone I’m using, and the words I’m speaking – how affirmative and absolute the content is, saying no more than is necessary.

As much as possible, I need to be aware of how I come across to my audience… which is about as close as I will really come to “seeing” myself through the emotions, reactions, and responses of those who are listening to me.

Just Plain Bill

“Age is a thief…”

I was intrigued by a recent quote, taken from an article written by Frank Bruni in the 11/09/14 edition of The New York Times: Gray Hair and Silver Lining. 

“Age is a thief. But it gives as much as it takes.”

I was especially intrigued with Bruni’s comment about “… lost ambitions. There’s a point at which you have to accept that certain hopes and dreams won’t be realized…”

That realization syncs with thoughts I’ve had for many decades about having “half of my life left” to do the things undone, undo the things I shouldn’t have done, to work on things that should be worked on – and finished – and so on.

The mind talk went something like this: “I’m now 25 and I know many folks who are 50, so I really have over half of my life to get things done.” You may have had a similar, if not identical thought. And, when we’re 30, we know many folks who are active at 60. But eventually the realization starts to set in that we don’t know many folks active at 80 when we’re 40 - and so on.

I’m grateful that Bruni includes the realization that with passing time we can soften our judgments, elect the positives, and appreciate the following: “…you gain as much as you lose, and that there are slivers of opportunity and points of connection where you least expect them.” I’m committed to looking more closely for those “slivers” amongst the woodpile of life.

And a final comment meant to be so much more than an afterthought…if you happen to be a 38-year old reader, relax a bit…you know at least one active person twice your age…me! You still have lots of time…just please don’t take this time thing for granted.

P.S.  Definitely don’t follow the advice seen on a bumper sticker the other day: “Carpe Mañana!”