Month: July 2016

Attention or Desire?

Do I want to be an object of attention or desire?

This is a decision we all must make in our lives.

Sure, it sounds like a dilemma that a Victoria’s Secret model might have, but let’s be clear. Attention and desire are words with expansive power and meaning; the sexual realms of our lives shouldn’t have a monopoly over them.

For when it comes to our lives, the choice between attention and desire can make all the difference.

All too often, we set our sights on attention. Attention is what gets us noticed, what gets us famous. Attention is what builds our legion of followers on social media and what keeps us relevant in a culture that moves faster than whitewater rapids. Attention builds relevance and brand awareness, for both or professional ventures and our personal brand. (This Kmart ad is a great example.)

Heck, attention might be what drew you to this article.

Attention seems like a good way forward. It’s easy, it’s productive and it helps us grow our egos. In the increasingly individualistic world we live in, it can seem to have everything we would ever want.

But, attention is a smoke screen. It’s just noise — a lot of noise. He or she who shouts the loudest, who makes the biggest disruption — that’s the person who gets noticed. This is the reason our election season seems like reality TV, why Kardashians and Hiltons hog the actual reality TV limelight and why Nike shoes are now bright yellow.

It’s all part of the show.

And when the show’s over, when it packs up and leaves town, we don’t remember much of it. We’re on to the next big thing, the next attraction.

This is not a sustainable way to build our lives, either personally or professionally. Attention might get us a date, a job interview, a client. But that’s only part of the story.

Attention can get you to the door, desire will get you through it.

Desire is what makes us memorable, what makes us irresistible. It builds a unique, personal connection — one that’s often mutually beneficial. While attention may draw our eye, desire tugs at our heart.

But desire is difficult to attain. To achieve it, we must be consistently display authenticity, aptitude, confidence, empathy and uniqueness. We must stay true to ourselves while being aware of the message we portray to those around us. We must be aware of the needs of others, and how our qualities align with those needs. We must be collectivist, yet individualistic.

It’s a complicated equation — one that’s nearly impossible to fake.

As a search marketer, I think about the challenge of desirability often. Traditionally, my industry has been full of people trying to help their clients gain attention from search engines by whatever means necessary — as visibility meant revenue. However, Google and Bing have gradually made gaming the system nearly impossible. Today, a company or brand must prove itself to be desirable — both to web users and search engines — in order to be visible online. It’s a steep challenge, but one that can pay lasting dividends for everyone if it’s pulled off right.

If desire can make such a big difference in the world of search, shouldn’t we be expanding it to the world at large? Shouldn’t we focus our efforts on evolving, caring, being selfless? Shouldn’t we focus on sharing a conversation with others, instead of shouting through a bullhorn? Shouldn’t we take some time to consider how we fit in, instead of solely perfecting ways to stand out?

Of course we should. And some of us — myself included — have already set our sights on these goals. Some, but not enough of us.

It’s time for that to change.

Let’s focus on what’s tangible over what’s shiny. Let’s focus on forming a personal connection instead of attaining widespread notoriety.

Let’s choose desire over attention. Our continued success relies on it.

Avoiding the Mob

I am no trendsetter.

It took me 4 years to get my first iPhone. I still don’t willingly take selfies. And the next Uber ride I take will be my first.

Yes, I’m old school — a fact that makes my life difficult when I’m trying to buy Nike sneakers that don’t look like a Smurf vomited all over them or a t-shirt that doesn’t belong on Jersey Shore. I choose text messaging over Snapchat, cable over cord-cutting and the gym over a Gluten-free diet.

Why do I live according to the way it was, instead of the way it is? It ain’t for the money; if I’d cut out cable, I might have actually saved me quite a few bucks. It ain’t in honor of Scrooge; it’s too warm to be going around yelling “Bah, Humbug.”

No, it’s because I want to avoid the mob.

Not the Corleone family. The throngs of people losing their minds over the next big trend.

Trendhopping is the national pastime of Millennials — a group I grudgingly am lumped in with by age association alone. It’s how we ended up with Snapchat, Tinder and nonsensical analogies like “Netflix and Chill” (c’mon y’all, it’s barely got anything to do with either one).

Now, trendiness is nothing new. It’s how culture has moved forward over the years (or, in some cases, backward). But it’s a whole new ballgame today. The Internet now allows trends to go viral almost instantaneously, with a vocal Millennial core ready and willing to aggressively usher society into compliance with it.

Look at the recent Pokemon Go craze. In a matter of days, it went from being something outside the realm of our wildest imagination to an activity seemingly everyone was doing.

Much like Evangelicals, Pokemon Go fans boisterously extolled the virtues of the game (“Now the Pokemon craze can cross the generation gap!” “Now we have an excuse to be active and play outside again!.”) while drowning out any concerns raised by the few not playing (including a massive drain on phone battery life and the negative repercussions of continually burying one’s head in a screen while in a public forum).

As a marketer, I find Pokemon Go appealing, even though I’ve never played any form of Pokemon. The combination of a universally accessible product, generation-gapping nostalgia and instant superfans was a home run for Nintendo.

That said, I find mob mentality around the game to be gravely concerning. For even though a fired up fan base obsessed over the next big thing might see no harm in trying to spread the word to the masses like religious zealots, this type of aggressive peer pressure threatens our diversity of thoughts, actions and beliefs. It makes our society homogeneous, and not far removed from our enemies.

“Preposterous!” these evangelical fans might say. “For the platforms, games and technologies we’re pushing are for good, not for evil.”

But the notions of good and evil are subjective. Most God-fearing people have a good grasp as to which actions belong to each quality, but that perspective can be easily manipulated. And if twisted ideals are indoctrinated into a zealous mob of supporters, unspeakable horrors can commence.

Now, I’m not suggesting that the rise of trends like Pokemon Go will turn America into another Axis of Evil, but I can see some unsettling parallels. The continuous rally to get people to join in the craze because “it’s what everyone’s doing” and the lack of regard given to conscientious objectors within the game’s considerably large path are frighteningly similar to the behaviors of authoritarian societies.

I bring this up because the issues the mob of Pokemon Go supporters drown out are actually quite significant — particularly since the game is played in the realm of the real world. There are already multiple reports of people gathering in public parks at dusk to “go hunting,” kids walking through busy neighborhood streets looking for Pokemon and teenagers blindly following their phones into private property — all ill-advised, dangerous ideas. I’ve venheard of an armed robbery facilitated by the game, as well as a serious car-pedestrian crash.

Yet, even in the face of such significant imperfections, supporters of the Pokemon Go trend are all too willing to sweep these issues under the rug — which only serves to lead countless other players into the path of danger. The mob mentality strikes again.

This behavior must end.

We must respect the voices of those who spend their days avoiding the mob. Whether we’re discussing politics, sports or Pokemon Go, we must leave a place for opposing viewpoints. Dissent is not insubordination in a democracy; if anything, it builds tools that can vastly improve the cause the majority is trumpeting. If Pokemon Go fanatics had listened to dissent, we wouldn’t have people falling off ledges trying to “Catch Em All.” The game would be better, and far safer.

So hop on that latest trend. Play Pokemon Go. Buy that new smartphone. Watch the show everyone’s talking about.

But be respectful of dissent. Don’t join the mob.

The Trials of Our Time

About a week ago, I wrote a blog article that was meant to be shared here. The article was about Dallas — how it is so often misunderstood, how what makes it special is hidden behind the stereotypical perceptions held by outsiders and whether all of this even matters.

I believe in every word of that article. But it will have to wait for another time.

As I was reading over my completed draft of that article, a nightmare was unfolding less than 20 miles away, in the heart of downtown Dallas. A peaceful protest against police brutality was suddenly ambushed by a barrage of bullets, aimed by a sniper at the officers on duty in the area. Five officers lost their lives in the attack, while seven others — plus two civilians — sustained injuries. It was quite possibly the most heinous incident in Dallas since President Kennedy was gunned down at Dealey Plaza — a mere two blocks from the most recent atrocity — more than 50 years ago.

The past few days have, admittedly, been difficult for me. I reckon they’ve been difficult for all North Texans. And while I’m no stranger to the emptiness left by senseless tragedy — having been in New York City on 9/11 and having covered some awful stories during my news media career — the pain I feel is different this time, in part because the situation is so much more complex.

You’ve probably heard commentary from countless angles over the violent events of the first week of July 2016 by now. This is not another piece of angled commentary. It’s a narrative I hope is shared by so many who are deeply disturbed by these recent events, but are also weighed down by the balance of perspective.

Given the perilous state of our society, I feel it’s my duty to share this narrative here.

***

“Dallas is a city that loves.”

Those words from Dallas Police Chief David Brown the day after the city’s most heinous attack in decades.

He’s right.

Despite the bad rap Dallas gets elsewhere — including the derogatory “New York of Texas” moniker given by the folks down I-35 apiece — this is one of the friendliest places I’ve ever called home. Strangers are genuinely kind and respectful, and friends have treated me like family.

While Dallas’ official tourism slogan is “Big Things Happen Here,” I’ve long thought it should read “Your Life Matters Here.” Aside from New York, I’ve rarely seen a more diverse and inclusive region; in fact, I personally feel Dallas is more openly diverse than Miami — a city that considers itself “The Gateway to the Americas”.

Of course, “Your Life Matters Here” brings us to the heart of the recent tragedies.

There is a define trend of African American men losing their lives at the hands of law enforcement in this country. It is real, it is disturbing and it must be properly addressed.

But the Dallas Police Department, by and large, has not been a part of this trend. Serving a city that, despite its welcoming attitude, is far from perfect — a city that still features its share of bad neighborhoods and violent crime — the department has made great strides to fulfill their duties without creating a culture of racial prejudice displayed in Ferguson, Saint Paul, Baton Rouge and even New York.

But that didn’t matter to one former member of the U.S. Army, a man who looked down at white and Hispanic men in badges and saw red.

He didn’t just take the lives of five men who were doing their job by protecting a group of people who were protesting atrocities committed by their own profession, he took the lives of five North Texans. Men who had families. Men who made plenty of sacrifices just to join the police force. Men who truly cared about the community they served. Men who would stop pro athletes to take a photo with them, just as other North Texans would.

Heck, some of the men and women he targeted had stopped to pose for pictures with the protesters momentsearlier. But that didn’t matter to this sniper, who had categorically picked them for extermination.

And that is why I take this incident so personally.

I am not black. I am not in law enforcement. So I don’t know what it’s like to have a continual target on my back. But the thought of being systematically categorized and eliminated based off something as basic as my skin tone or line of work is unconscionable. It’s a risk all my friends with darker skin tones face continually, and one that all my friends and acquaintances in law enforcement must be aware of as well. And it’s a situation that cost five officers — five of my extended neighbors — their lives.

We cannot let this continue. For if we do, we’re heading for a path of self-destruction. Coast to coast, the racial divide is as bad right now as I’ve ever seen it in my life. Distrust is high and violent confrontation has taken hold. We’re on the brink of a total meltdown that would annihilate everything good our society has ever stood for.

These are the trials of our time, and we must deal with them.

We must take the steps to come together and save ourselves. The angry voices on the edge need not take the lead; that’s the responsibility of those in the middle — the ones who care about fair treatment for all, but have done little to speak up so far.

We must put aside our differences and unite against hate, against prejudice and against this horrific violence.

***

As I turned onto the Woodall Rodgers Freeway the other night, I noticed the iconic Dallas skyline, decked out in blue in honor of the fallen officers. It was a beautiful, captivating sight — but also a melancholy one. Our city is certainly hurting right now, but we will endure.

Our society must make the changes needed to do the same.

The Power of Being Present

Growing up, I watched a fair amount of college football games on fall Saturdays. Each season, my beloved Miami Hurricanes would face off against the Virginia Tech Hokies, and the broadcasters would invariably talk about The Lunch Pail — a symbol the vaunted Hokie defense rallied around time and again.

The Lunch Pail was nothing flashy — a small hard-case container painted in the signature maroon and orange colors of Virginia Tech. But that was the point. It was there, every day — a tangible symbol of persistence. Likewise, the Hokies would always be a tough opponent — what they lacked in world-class athleticism, they made up for with pure effort and heart.

While I consistently pulled for my eventual alma mater in these matchups, I gained a great deal of respect for the Virginia Tech Hokies over the years, and learned a lot about the blue collar work ethic in the process. Funny as it sounds, watching football games on ABC on weekends gave me valuable insight I couldn’t get in the classroom.

Skills are important, but so is the fortitude to be present. The will to persistently devote your time and effort to something you believe in.

Along the winding road to adulthood, my vocation, home address and interests have all changed — multiple times. But one thing has stayed consistent — my devotion to all that I pursue. This persistence has allowed me to thrive in my various career positions over the years, and to build a life.

It didn’t take magic or luck for me to get where I am now; it took the proverbial blood, sweat and tears.

That said, sometimes, I feel as if I’m a relic from the past.

Lifehacking has become a central part of Millennial culture these days — a societal quest to cut the chaff and make everything from cooking dinner to completing your job responsibilities faster and more efficient. The corporate world has embraced this mantra with open arms (ostensibly for the promise of leaner payrolls and overhead), with one search marketing superagency even adopting the mantra “Work Smarter, Not Harder.”

In a matter of years, we’ve developed an extreme allergy to the grind.

Look, I get it. If only 20 percent of our work time is productive, it makes sense to focus on our money moments. If we can cut tedium and monotony out of our personal lives, we’ll enjoy ourselves that much more.

But at what point does cutting the chaff turn into cutting corners?

Wholesome success can’t be achieved in the time it takes to order a Big Mac. It requires persistent vigilance. It requires long-term focus. It requires being there, time and again.

We can’t hack our future with one swing of the chisel. We must strategically and consistently knock away small pieces of the stone to sculpt our destiny.

Make no mistake, there is substance in that Lunch Pail. There is power in being present.

The key is not to get started, but to keep going.

Will you?