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Post Secrets

Post Secrets by Frank Warren.

Frank Warren is a double secret probationary undercover salesman for the United States Postal Service.  Here is his story:

In 2004, Frank printed and randomly distributed 3000 postcards inviting people to share a secret with him.  Here was his request:

  • Take a postcard, or two.
  • Tell your secret anonymously.
  • Stamp and mail the postcard.
  • Be brief - the fewer the words used the better.
  • Be legible - use big, clear and bold lettering.
  • Be Creative - let the postcard be your canvas.

Frank created a Post Secret Web site and has authored four books publishing postcards that he has received.

The Post Secret book soothes my compulsive need to be in touch with pleasing design.  I even like the way it smells.  But it's the stories on the postcards that steal the show.  Though fewer than two or three sentences complete an entire story, one feels emotionally exhausted after reading just a few.  Strangers revealing and illustrating their deep, dark secrets is mysteriously intriguing.  Or perhaps not.  Perhaps it's just therapeutic and not mysterious to learn that others have held secrets, like our own, close to the vest for years.

That Frank's book is so popular and that so many people have been to his site give evidence to either our morbid curiosity or a deeper need to hear other's stories and connect with them...even if it is at the level of, "hey man, I hear your problem, I can relate brother."

Here are two postcards that aren't quite so heavy:

Frank Warren liberates desperate housewives.

Frank Warren provides a Starbuck's moment.

 

On Managing and The Decline of Newspapers

For factual and analytical information on the decline of newspapers and the present state of this industry, please visit the smartest folks in the universe of journalism:  Poynter Online.  I love this site!  It just oozes smart, professional and passionate writers.

If however, you'd like to hear from an average Joe who is an above average newspaper reader, online and off, tighten up the circle, throw another log on the fire and listen up.

Once upon a time, about two days ago, I was reading Napoleon Hill's chapter on Initiative in his book, Napoleon Hill's First Edition.  Napoleon tells the story about the time he took Tom Edison's Questionnaire.   He only got five percent of the questions right.  Then he took the list of questions to the library and in thirty minutes he correctly answered ninety-five percent of the questions.  Next, he contacted two sources by telephone and within an additional fifteen minutes, had correctly answered the remaining five percent.

My mind began to wander back to a time when I was in tenth grade Woodshop. (Time frame hint: Roberta Flack had the number one hit that year, Whenever I Saw Your Face)  We were given half of the school year to complete a project.  I was the least talented woodworker in that class.  And while a quarter of the students did not complete making their nightstand, I did.  Looking back now, I realize this was my first successful experience in managing.  I was able to get work done through other people and resources.  If I was unsure of a procedure I asked other students.  I was unsure of every procedure.  Looking back now, I realize this was also my first experience in failure as a manager.  While I was obtaining help from others, I detracted them from their own projects, thereby not allowing them to succeed.

Napoleon made me think of this in his tale about Edison's questionnaire.  You don't have to know all the facts in the world, you just have to know where to find them.  In his article which was written in 1921, Napoleon mentioned three most excellent sources for obtaining information.  The public library, any modern university and any modern daily metropolitan newspaper.  Here is what he said about newspapers:

Most of the big daily newspapers have on file the pictures of most of the leading men of affairs of the world, and these can be seen or even borrowed by responsible people, as a part of the service the great newspapers are rendering the public.

How often have personal Web site writers been chastised by professional journalists?  We are not credible, we do not follow standards and the big one, our sources are unreliable and not factual.   I so however,  appreciate their point of view.  They spent the time and money to become educated.  They abide by strict standards and ethics.  Their fact checking and sourcing must pass rigorous testing.  And they must bring all of this together to meet deadlines. 

Perhaps, instead of, like the music industry, worrying how everyone is trying to take a piece of their turf, they should invent new turf.  Perhaps they should listen to Napoleon.  Perhaps they should get into the service business by providing all of that triple-checked information - for free or use a combination of advertising and nominal annual subscription. 

The following is my perception.  It is not based upon factual evidence.  It is however, what motivates me at this time to not utilize online newspapers for information.  Their search engines suck.  And when I find anything at all, it is more than seven days old and a fee is required to access it. 

Instead of trying to paddle upstream, the newspaper industry should turn the canoe around and put wings on it.  Open up their vaults of information, partner with Google and get back into the service business.

The Readership Institute seems to speak of going in this direction, kind of.

Amy Grant: Mosaic

Mosaic: Pieces of My Life So Far by Amy Grant.

I saw Amy on the Oprah show about a month ago.  Prior to that I had a vague recollection of her name.  She's a country singer, right?  She appeared on the show with husband Vince Gill.  They spoke of their time together and Amy invited the audience in on a first ever video tour of her get-away, tucked in the woods writing cabin.  At the end of the segment, Oprah plugged Amy's book Mosaic

I am beyond intrigued by folks who can sing, write songs and write literature - like Christine Kane.  So I bought Amy's book.  In the grand scheme of the Road Not Taken, this is a road that I seem to be meandering down.  If you were to place me in a lineup of one-hundred different men, I would be the first one you would choose who would be least likely to by a book written by Amy Grant.

One other reason that I picked up Amy's book is to force myself out of the Panama Canal of biz books that I find myself being channeled through.  I also recently bought three Dr. Seuss books.  (That felt good!).  I need these ingredients for the big pot of soup cooking on the stove - that eventually sips its way into my writing.

Amy melds short stories of her life in between written versions of her songs.  A journey through this book reveals a wonderful design that embraces one's senses.  I haven't a clue as to who Amy Grant the star is.  But I do have one now to who Amy Grant the person is. She loves her family; she cares for her friends; she respects those who have went before her;  she captures life's lessons, storing them in her heart;  she loves the oceans.  No, I am not in awe of Amy the star.  If she were standing right in front of me I wouldn't seek an autograph.  I am not a fan.  I am in awe of Amy the person.  And if she were standing in front of me I'd ask her to tell me a story.  And then my life would be better for it.

If you love your family, love to write, and are in pursuit of life, pick up Amy's book today.

Christmas Kindness and Smiles

Carla and I are standing in line waiting to check out a present for Rosemary when I say to her, "How much money you got?"

She says, "I think I got a ten and a couple of ones."

I say, "You got a ten?  Give me the ten."

She takes her backpack off and starts to rummage through it.  (Note to self- observe whether or not teenagers use purses anymore).  She spends a good three or four minutes digging through her mini backpack when the thirty-something Asian girl standing behind us hands me a pen.  "You need a pen?"

This small act of kindness brings about an appreciative smile to my face but wells up a tidal wave of warmth inside.  It's just such a nice thing to do.  I explain to her that I am asking the kid for a ten.  I'm not sure she understands me, but she smiles.

I walk out of the store with a smile that lasts the entire day.

Troy Worman: Outstanding Bloggers List

Troy Worman has created a true Internet treasure with his Outstanding Bloggers List.  Enjoy.

A = AWESOME

B = Beautiful

Biz -something

Brain-something


C

D

E is for “E”

F

G

H

I = Ideas. No one is going to like all of your ideas. It’s best to stop caring about that now.

J

Life-something

El-something

L

  • LogoBlog For the articles. And the logo maker.

M

N

O

P

Q

R

Outstanding Bloggers by Name

The microfamous

Design: Do You Love Your City?

Ben lived in a rather small city of 15,000 people.  He spoke of it as wonderfully designed.  He liked the large streets that made up a perfect grid.  Ben cared about where he lived.  So when the unpaved streets became muddy and wreaked havoc on the merchants, he worked to get the community involved and the streets paved.  But dried mud on the paved streets was also a problem.  So Ben created and distributed a pamphlet that stated the advantages of hiring a street sweeper.  A few days later when he canvassed the neighborhoods, Ben discovered unanimous support.

About this time the townspeople wanted to light their city.  Ben took note of John Clifton's house.  John simply kept a lit lamp outside of his front door at night.  Ben and John purchased a few lamps from overseas.  Ben noticed a flaw in the oil lamp's design.  There were no provisions to draw air from the bottom which would prevent a buildup of smoke and soot.  Ben redesigned the lamp to allow air to move freely through the lamp. 

Wisdom quickly became a byproduct of Ben's life.  He used the street paving and lamp stories to tell folks about happiness and attention to small matters.  He said that dust (or soot) blown into the eyes of a single person or merchant was not much of a problem.  But when dust was blown into the eyes of an entire city, it could shut down the city.  A simple plan to sweep the streets or a small design change to the lamps were examples of paying attention to seemingly small matters.  Ben said human happiness is not so much a result of lucky events that rarely come our way.  Rather, happiness is more often a result of the little advantages that accumulate every day.

He went on to say that if you want to make the world a better place, do something as basic as teaching a poor young man how to shave himself and keep his razor in good shape.  In doing this, you may contribute more to his happiness in life than by giving him a lump sum of money.  He said, money easily gained is often foolishly spent and latter regretted, but a good skill pays dividends for a lifetime.

A few small incidents from Ben's life here demonstrate a remarkable ability to market, to be creative, to design, to pursue happiness and to teach. 

Ben was a pretty smart guy and yes, Benjamin Franklin loved Philadelphia, his city.  Do you love yours?

This story of Benjamin Franklin can be found in Benjamin Franklin by Blaine McCormick.

That's Different: Ceiling Tile Art

How often do you look at ceiling tiles?  Well, when you're lying on your back with three quarters of your body swallowed by a machine and your head is sticking out - you have no choice.

I was admitted to Tampa General Hospital this past week.  I went in to emergency with various pains.  They admitted me for the ones in my chest and put me through a series of tests.  The last was called a nuclear stress test.  I spent a total of forty minutes on my back inside of a machine that took pictures of my heart.  Directly above me was a ceiling tile painting of fish in the sea.  How absolutely clever.  They also had a TV mounted on the ceiling for patients, but the idea of placing art in this location is simply brilliant!

Of course ceiling tile art is not something new.  It's just new to me and that's different.

My heart tested to be in good shape and my symptoms were stress related.  Whew, only stress.

Note to dave in the future:  You've been looking at ceilings inside of commercial buildings since 1984. It went along with your line of work, which you stopped talking about online in 2003.
 

Hollow Smiles

Hollow smiles.  Nervous, hollow smiles.

"Oh, that's nice dear.  So, when are you going to get a job?"

She puts in seventy hours each week...easy.  Time spent thinking, bending and molding words until they reach the pitch of perfection.  Time spent reading, conversing and networking.  Time spent on contests, querying and pitching.  Time spent on revising, revising and revising.  Time spent on obtaining an agent.  Time spent on trying to succeed.

Hollow smiles come from the well intentioned.  They think it's nice that she has a hobby.  It's nice to be dedicated, though they're not really sure to what.  It's nice to keep busy since she got laid off from her job.

The hollow smiles hurt her.  Why can't they understand she asks.  And then she wonders, am I doing the right thing?  Can I really make a living writing?  Should I just get a job like everyone wants me to do?  Maybe my stuff is not good enough.

He says no.  No, with conviction.  He believes in her.  After a round of hollow smiles, he comforts her.  He tells her she has what it takes.  He tells her that her stories are strong, her dialog flows and her descriptive language is refreshingly :-) adverb-free.  He has never doubted.  Not once.  He sees the two of them one day sitting on the porch of their cabin in Maine.  He sees her smile.  He sees peace in her heart.

Not all radiate hollow smiles.  Some effuse spirit-filled smiles of belief.  He hopes that those who matter most to her will one day be filled with the spirit of belief.  He hopes it comes before she breaks out, because it would mean that much more to her.  Until then he will hold her hand, hold her heart and hold open that cabin door.

Tampa

Most Excellent Learning Adventure Team

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Carla2Italy

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