Yes, this is a true story and it happened in this sequence. I bumped into a friend this past Friday at B&N. I went to write and also to check out all the hub-bub around Life 2.0. He had already scoped out a table in the cafe and we started chatting about belief systems. Well, actually we were talking about blogs.
Before I got busy and worked primarily on-site for customers, my home away from home was Mission City Roasting Company in Santa Clara. You could reliably count on seeing me there pounding away on my laptop. (In fact, I'm writing this there now.) I met Enrique* there (not his real name only because I didn't ask permission to write this story), a strategic consultant in the manufacturing space. We've only once actually planned a meeting. We know we will invariably run into each other a few times a month either at Mission City or at the Barnes & Noble's cafe.
I don't foist my blog on friends or family. In fact, I barely mention it to most as I'm not sure I even want them reading. Then with other friends I find I have to catch myself (usually too late) before I blurt: "Oh, yeah, I blogged on that very topic yesterday".
So Enrique tells me he doesn't like reading blogs (second friend to say so in as many days) and he is truly an avid, voracious read-aholic. I'm probing why - why not? The full explanation would be the subject of a separate post.
Are they too edgy? Nope, that's not it. He likes learning and pushing edges. It comes down to too many blogs are over-the-top preachy - they're harping their belief system. I see how he feels that way as sometimes I do too. I talk about how blogs are evangelistic and how I've started to ponder how to use blogs to build bridges and engage interactively. I leave him with a few specific examples of blog usages besides ranting and jumping up on a soap-box.
He tries to get his point across by asking a rhetorical question: "Do you see the world in terms of black and white?"
Gradually we shift into another subject.
After about 20 minutes, a tall, well-dressed black man in his 40's walks by roaming around searching for power for his laptop. Enrique points to the closest outlet. He sits down by us while rifling through his laptop bag and asks, "You two from around here?"
Enrique replies that we're both local. "I'm from New York, but I live here now," he responds. He continues to fumble with his laptop while he sets it up.
"Seen Fahrenheit 911?" he continues, his head buried in his briefcase.
Nope. Nope.
"You need to go see it. It tells the truth."
Well, I know Enrique's politics and even if he were Democrat this isn't a real effective opening line to engender anyone's interest. "I don't need to see it." He adds, "Why do you say that?"
At this point I'm going to have trouble staying true to actual script. This guy is on a (rehearsed?) spree with numbers and anecdotes. It's all a blur even just five minutes after he left when I try to jot down the whole thing.
"Blah blah Bush wasn't elected blah blah blacks in Florida voting booths blah brother Jeb Bush blah Bush wasn't elected blah blah and they say education is number one but then they are blah blah."
"Who's they?" I asked.
His voice is quickly rising, and he says, "Blah blah instead of education they pay X dollars a year for educators and pumping Y billions into Iraqi war blah blah and then he won't speak at the NAACP blah blah blah.
Trust me there is entire litany here. I don't have the memory or writing skills to do justice to the monologue.
I try to get a word in edge-wise. I toss out something about being neither a Bush nor a Michael Moore fan. Ah ha, I think. Now that should be an unexpected twist which would require consideration and slowing down the canned spiel. But I have absolutely no chance to expand on it - and I'm not exactly shy, I can interrupt with the best of them - before he's running off again. I'm sure you've run into folks that just appear to be impatiently waiting until your mouth stops moving to launch back to where they left off.
Finally, Enrique said, "Look, we'd like to get back to the conversation we were having." He turns to me, "Where were we?"
The man looks flabbergasted. I try to meet his eyes as I can engage better that way but this is the first time it sinks in that he's managed to avoid my gaze all this while. He's looking at the keyboard, his shoes, the bench he's sitting on...anything but us.
"Well, I just thought since you weren't Americans you'd be sympathetic. [What?! He never asked about our nationality. Lots of assumptions packed into that statement.] The American people are blind blah blah they can't see with their own eyes blah blah blah blah believe everything they're told blah blah blah."
As some point we manage to convey that the "conversation" was over.
I mention to Enrique that that was like talking to a wall. He replies, "No, it's worse than talking to a wall...this wall talks."
That incident was like a thunderbolt.
Maybe too many of us are trying to cram things down people's throats. We paint them as dunces and we have all the answers. We assume they need to change and we can "fix" them. I'm right, you're wrong.
I just distrust people who want to change the world, but who don't want to change themselves. All the social evils that we see around us, they're all in a microcosm form in each of us. Who can point the finger? - Bono
I can only speak to my experience but I have never been inspired or motivated by anyone that begins with the premise that I'm an idiot, wrong or less-than and they have obviously seen the truth.
You really had to be there Friday night. There was no way that either Enrique or I were going to have a healthy two-sided exchange - something both of us would have been enthusiastic for. A lost opportunity slipped through all our fingers. Sides were drawn from the get-go. The Moore fan didn't appear to arrive with the intention to engage in a meaningful two-way dialogue. He didn't appear to arrive with a desire to hear us as much a desire to spew. And certainly much less to listen.
There is a very important distinction to be made between listening and hearing. True listening brings us in touch even with that which is unsaid and unsayable... [German philosopher] Martin Heidegger says that true listening is worship. - Anam Cara: The Book of Celtic Wisdom, by John O'Donohue
One of the first things that Enrique noticed as we sat down in the cafe was that something seemed 'off' about me. He asked if anything was amiss. Was I ok? Damn, I have too many intuitively perceptive friends, I thought. I hadn't spoken a word - but there it was plain as day for anyone listening.
Hmmm, now I understand Enrique's distaste for blogs. It makes me wonder if I'm dogmatic. If all else, it should keep me on my toes.
Hopefully it's only a coincidence that Hugh's Daily Cartoon on my birthday this year happens to be:
I don't need religion, I've got a blog.
There are so many styles and shades of dogma and I imagine you've witnessed "religion" in any arena.
I have a deeper understanding and even compassion for why so many people have a disdain for marketing. Fix me? Uggh. Force me? Ughh. "I'm doing all the talking here, I know everything - and you, Mr. or is it Ms. Customer, oh yeah whatever - now shut up and pay attention to me. We've got just what you need..."
Marketing is in big-time trouble, starting with their standing among consumers. In a recent survey, consumers ranked marketers just above used car salespeople in trust. - via Ageless Marketing
I don't think all is lost for marketing - quite the opposite. It's a wake-up call. Just like that gentleman at the cafe, perhaps we - as individuals, marketers, salespeople, corporations - aren't even cognizant of how much we've cut off others and how much the "other" side would like to truly engage and share...if we meet them half-way we can both learn a lot in the process.
Being caught by the lord of speech may start with just a reasonable conviction about what we feel to be true. However, if we find ourselves becoming righteously indignant, that's a sure sign that we've gone too far and that our ability to effect change will be hindered. Beliefs and ideals have become just another way to put up walls. - The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times by Pema Chodron
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