Not Being the Smartest at Times Can Be an Opportunity to Learn Something
When Social Networking Becomes an AdHoc Tutorial
I'll be the first to admit that
one of the things I love most about Facebook and other social media
is getting high fives, props or plain ol' compliments when I share or say
something clever. (I can't actually include "my blogs" as an
example in which this has ever happened, however, because after what SHOULD
have been a big launch of my two sites -- this business-related one and another
"just for fun” blogh? Um...I'm only
NOW prepared to start FEEDING these sites and truly embracing them! Yeesh.)
I digress. So back to my
admission of loving call-outs for "cleverosity?" (Well, coining that word may not necessarily be a
very good example of such a thing, come to think of it!) But when a bon
mot of mine sparks some virtual applause? Even a smattering of it? Ah yes. I love
it. "Go ahead. Shower me with
praise! Hit that LIKE button HARD and OFTEN. Woo hoo!"
But, perversely, you know what
I also love? I actually thrive on those times when one or
more others do trump me with infinitely more original or astonishing
comments or responses than anything I might have contributed. Don't get me
wrong. I'm not about to say that happens a lot. (Harrumph!) But when
it does, you might be surprises by what that spurs in me.
This morning, for example, I had
just the kind of "Wha...?
Duh...?" moment when I felt positively SMITED by a bunch of folks I
don't even know. It was at the crack of dawn and I’d remarked
about an amusing Facebook post by a good friend -- advertising creative
sharpie, novelist and all-around "Renaissance Man" (a decidedly
contemporary version, to be sure), Toby Barlow.
In his completely effortless and
charming fashion, Toby was simply sharing a link about a surprising coincidence
(or was it?) regarding a
near exact graphic design that was featured in two films by Ridley Scott.
Since it's Toby's birthday
today, he threw his thoughts about it on his Wall and in no time, it was like
chum to his cerebral (friendly) shark friends. Importantly, it was all of
one sentence long -- practically a freaking haiku! (Brevity, indeed being
the soul of wit. Something I've yet to practice...this very blog being a prime
example.)
So Toby's birthday nod simply
read:
“All I really want for my birthday is...’Alien vs. Blade Runner.’”
And this was followed by the
link he wanted to share. That's it.
Well, that's all it took to prompt a host of Mr.
Barlow's equally witty online crew to bat their own responses toward the
fences. "Ooooh! This is
fun," I thought. I pondered for about a nanosecond and then
threw my imagined matchup into the
mix -- "Alien vs. Miranda
Priestly" -- and thought that reference to Meryl Streep's
memorable Devil Wears Prada villainess/heroine would
amuse those in the conversation. Figured it would at least be good for a
chuckle.
Then... the TRULY clever and
crafty ones in Toby's circle started weighing in. Oy...
Each offering was funnier and
more complex than the next. Heck, I didn't even understand the one that immediately followed mine. (Not. A.
Clue.) Since I didn't even know the meaning
of his suggestion, I felt a thud in my stomach which marked the beginning
of a slightly unpleasant sensation. And this is what I thought, "Oh, no. Maybe I should have at least
given this some actual thought for a minute or two before so
flippantly adding to the back-and-forth..."
Suddenly, I didn't feel anything
close to the "smartest kid in class." More like the one in
the dunce cap on a stool in the corner. (NOT my preferred self image!) Hoo boy!
Not by a long shot.
Not a problem, however.
Whether in business or personal interactions or activities, you see, I
THRIVE on some of those occasions when I apparently am the dimmest bulb on the chandelier. Because then I can soak in what other potentially smarter folks than I (or
at least definitely momentarily more on the ball) have to say.
And then? Dare I say it? I
actually almost always LEARN something from such experiences. Yep, even at my
advancing age. (Or, I should say, I'm thrilled that I do continue to
put a high premium on learning -- big things and small ones -- even though I
sailed past the half century mark a few years ago.)
Unsurprisingly, the trail of
comments suddenly started to generate an almost audible buzz as new voices
joined the conversation! No big deal for anyone involved, of course. Just
lighthearted fun! But the open exchange was decidedly invigorating. Charming,
even. And kind of...exciting.
The BIG takeaway from this is
that I know full well that most of
what I now have to share professionally comes from what I’ve learned from
others. I’m quite the lucky fellow in that I’ve spent most of my
career around some pretty astonishing talents with a helluva lot more grey
matter than yours truly. In fact, I spent most of the last 25+ years
with a great many individuals who were (and, in some cases, still are) definitely smarter than me. There’s
a pretty long list of such people that would double the length of this blog if
I were to note all the folks I’ve learned from over the years.
That's the point. Many of those
bosses and peers had much to share.
And I had the opportunity to soak it all in like a sponge. But to do so,
it was critical to be comfortable with not being a know-it-all. Because you can
never learn a thing if you think you know it all. OK?
How fortunate I've been.
Whenever I meet young people or
am asked to help someone make sizable leaps up the corporate or creative ladder
(particularly when they're still on relatively low rungs), I often wish there
was a way I could just snap my fingers and somehow provide each with
the same incredible learning opportunities I was either given...or that I was crafty
enough to create for myself. If
I were to get a tattoo (but no chance of that
ever happening), it probably should be “Carpe Diem” splayed out across my
forehead.
When you're learning at the side
of folks like Jay Chiat, Jane Newman, Laurie Coots at Chiat/Day right outta the
gate, career-wise? Well, you'd have to be an idiot not to consider such experiences
true Master Classes. And you'd be an even bigger idiot not to take full
advantage of the chance to, first of all, accept that there are many, many
people from whom you might learn and
who will likely always be if not smarter than you, then at least a few
steps ahead on the learning curve! Perhaps forever. (That's something the justly maligned Millennials should
consider. But don't get me rolling on that topic!)
I certainly didn't feel badly this morning about the
comparison between, in retrospect, my rather lightweight and obvious contribution
in comparison with the more compelling ones submitted by Toby's other Facebook
friends. Quite the contrary.
I was delighted to be in such company -- even for a few minutes. I
immediately thought this random group was a pretty impressive bunch and,
“minor” though the topic may have been, they were actually exchanging a contemporary
version of the banter, sparkling wit and clever bon mots we frequently
attribute only to past, sepia-toned
historical figures such as the denizens of The Algonquin Round Table or those
legendary American expatriates in Paris in the 20s.
But those qualities we still
admire and long for – rapier wit, the skill to fire off a withering bromide without
flinching, the simple turn of a good phrase – are by no means extinct. In fact, there are likely
countless times when such examples may very well be as near to you as your
laptop, iPad or such. Just keep your eye out and pay attention when a vibrant
real collective discussion gets rolling!
What might you learn from this? Well, on those
occasions when you find yourself in similar circumstances?
·
Don't wince
about what you've done or said and waste time wishing you could “take a
mulligan!”
·
Don't apologize
or beat yourself up, for Pete's sake.
·
Don't panic
and submit an alternate comment in some tragically unnecessary ploy to improve
your standing amongst the group. (Trust me, it will immediately be recognized
as the desperate ploy it is.)
And above all else?
·
Don't ignore
the continuing additions/comments that roll in (which might even gain an almost
“gone viral” velocity) if and when more and more smarty-pant-types weigh in!
Instead? Embrace the experience. Glean something
from it! Yes… Learn something.
(I have a feeling that may very
well happen throughout the day with responses to Toby's amusing post. In fact,
I'm looking forward to more complicated
and unexpected contributions. And yes, I may very well need to continue to jump on Google to understand
some references in order to figure out what the hell some of them mean!)
That said? I absolutely do admit to having at least a
twinge of...slight discomfort. As I said before, I winced. That's all. I wasn't agonized by the situation. “Please…” The literal definition of
"wince," by the way, is "a slight start." Which
means that I felt a passing, tiny and only slightly unpleasant feeling initially.
Critically, it was also that feeling that actually prompted
me to pay even more attention
to who these folks were and what they had to say – rather than pouting about
anything even five seconds ago. So now, as noted, I'm eagerly anticipating more
cannonballs being shot off various bows in what I hope will become an ongoing game of one-upmanship as
folks match their wits against one another and each attempts to equal or even surpass
the quality of entries already shared.
But before I got all Zen-like
about having been so immediately bested? And, no less, by multiple strangers from
who-knows-where?
Well, I was reminded of one of
my favorite Peanuts cartoon strips.
I played Charlie Brown in a
community theater production of You're
a Good Man, Charlie Brown back in Florence, Alabama. I was in the 5th
Grade or so and thus have always felt a bit of kinship with ol' Chuck. (I
guarantee, however, that almost anyone who knows me -- even in passing! --
would likely peg me as being a much closer
match – then and now – to Lucy van
Pelt rather than the hapless Charlie Brown! Heh heh heh.)
It's entirely possible that I've
enjoyed virtually everything Charles Schultz ever wrote -- the entire Peanuts
canon, if you will – but it’s decidedly safe to say that such study or even
mere enjoyment was quite a while ago. The power of this virtuoso humorist's work, however, is that, despite
my likely not having read or seen most of his work in over forty years, many of his cartoons still resonate as
vividly as if I’d first read them yesterday. And, in many cases, I can
literally quote many word for word and even describe the key images – again, sometimes
after not having seen or thought about some favorites for decades!
Without further adieu -- and by
way of illustrating that even I, for
all my braggadocio, don't operate 100% of the time with supreme levels of
self-confidence -- here is one of my truly favorite Peanuts tales that immediately came to mind earlier today. It
certainly was apt!
As I transpose the above onto my morning story, needless to say, I am
once again "playing" the round-headed kid. At least a little bit.
“Yup. Charlie Brown. That’s me, alright."
But that's ok? Because Charlie Brown, God love him, was always keen on learning and improving his lot in life. He was nothing less than the pure embodiment of HOPE, long before Obama used that as the key theme in his election campaign.
Now what? I’m going to share this with all
the Lucys and Linuses on Toby's Wall and wonder if any of them might also be feeling a little
Charlie Brown-esque themselves right now.
Whatever the case, I hope at
least a few see that there's a real possibility that there can be minor (though still somewhat profound) reactions to the contributions made by some who may have effortlessly just thrown a thought into the discussion quite reflexively without a moment’s
hesitation. Perhaps a few may then enjoy realizing that even a few clever words
really can have a tremendous impact –
particularly when they’re shared in a social networking setting!
By the way... Now that I think about it? My "Alien vs. Miranda Priestly" really is pretty damn funny if I do say so myself!
