Alrighty, then. Rain has now grabbed me by the scruff and tossed me and my projects firmly back into the house. So here I am, at the computer, and will try to catch up on blogitude in the next few days.
Actually, “rain” came Monday night in the form of one of those fogs so heavy it drips. The fog melted some of the outside work I’d done. Cedar boards are textury. They hold wet paint a long time in their woody little crannies. Even though I’d painted many hour earlier while the day was still sunny … eeew. Oh well.
Anyhow …
Here’s a good read on the subject of silence vs over-stimulation. “The Cost of Paying Attention” by Matthew B. Crawford.
Now, there is a tone and an undercurrent to this piece that I’ll bet you won’t like. I didn’t like it. I was also slightly surprised by it from the writer who wrote the very important “Shop Class as Soulcraft.” But because Crawford is is the writer of Soulcraft, I’m inclined to cut him a break on those portions. He has a lot to say.
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And so does Brigid on the issue of why long-form blogging is not dead and probably never will be despite the endless predictions of its demise.
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While I was sawing, painting, hammering, nailing, and sweating in the crazy winter sunshine, a potential opportunity fell out of the sky.
It’s far too early to talk about it in any detail. Perhaps nothing will come of it. Let’s just say that if everything were to go well, it would give me a chance to work on something I care about while also doing corporate communications.
Other than that brief stint in the dying days of JPFO (which was more activism, organizing, and hand-holding than corporate anything), I haven’t done corporate communications since the early 1990s when I left to follow my passion, go out on the edge, and take the kind of principled stand that does not go well with the ability to earn a living.
Near the end of those cc days, I compounded the difficulties of the work by moving hours away from the last of my local clients. Although I was accommodating them by traveling to meetings and such, they were nervous about the whole backwoods thing. One editor, who had taken me with him (as a freelancer) over the course of 12 years from one Fortune 100 company to another, paid me a nice backhanded compliment. “You’re far and away the best and most reliable writer I’ve ever worked with, ” he told me. “But why the hell do you have to live out there in the boonies?”
I remember the moment I happily sat down and wrote “moving on” letters to the last three clients and left business writing behind me “forever.”
Now it’s 20-ish years later and this potential opportunity practically lands on the lawn. (Potential opportunity, I have to remind myself. There are many places this could still go, including nowhere.)
The query came from someone I know as a friend and supporter, not a business contact. But the moment I opened the very corporate-style job description/qualifications list he sent, that side of me started stirring all over again. “Yeah, I can do that. And that. Yes. And even if I’ve never done that, it’s nothing that’s beyond my reach.” Not only can I do most of the things on that list, but I felt my mind easing smoothly back into that world. (“Okay, this would require some coordinating. And what if we constructed a human narrative to show that? And I can get so-and-so to advise me on the other …”) The prospect stirs me.
It also scares me. By conventional corporate standards, I’m not technically qualified. If they were collecting resumes and mine turned up in a big stack, they’d toss it in the first go-round, no need to bother with an interview. If by some act of wild libertarian daring, some corporate type did interview me, I’d have to explain, “Oh, never mind that I lack one of your major job qualifications; I’m a quick study.” My friend’s considering me only because he’s been observing beyond the resume for years.
Which is another scary part. I fear to hurt my relationship with the fine friends involved — as sometimes happens when people who know each other in some other context become client and contractor.
Sometimes I just want to say, “Hey, you know. About that thing? Just forget it. Not for me. Thanks anyway. Thrilled you thought of me. But … um, I’ve got to go tear up the kitchen floor. Or something.”
Other times I’m like, “Damn the torpedoes; let me at this project.”
But both blogging and putting up drywall are definitely less scary.
I’m happy for you, Claire. If this is something you want, go for it. If it doesn’t work out for you, I don’t know why you couldn’t walk away from it. Well, except maybe the friend part. I can see why that would be scary in a way. A business deal with family or really good friends has extra peril built in if you value the relationship highly. It’s hard to say no then.
Take care, and listen to your inner self. I think our guts know what we need to do for our best interests, even sometimes when our mind doesn’t.
Thank you very much. ML. And thanks especially for understanding the part about getting into business relationships with friends.
If the decision were mine and my friends’ alone, I’d go for it on at least a trial basis. We’re not the only people involved, and if the resume/interview part even comes into it, I’d be tap dancing all the way through to make things work. “On paper” I’m simply not the candidate who would be most suitable. Reality is more complex (and ain’t it always?).
ML said, “I think our guts know what we need to do for our best interests, even sometimes when our mind doesn’t.”
Absolutely. It’s been said (by Objectivists, mostly) that in any “conflict” between head and heart, go with the head. NOT ALWAYS TRUE. If your head understands your heart, it has a responsibility to listen and support it for the sake of your happiness. (And some of our best work is done within the fold of personal fear and uncertainty; that’s where courage steps in.) I hope it happens for you.
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I liked the article on Blogging. The best and the worst writing I’ve read has been on blogs, and that author knows what writing is all about.
Another non-coincidence, “The Cost of Paying Attention” coming after “Hearing Hands.”
[rant]
Crawford isn’t anti-clutter, he’s anti-commercial clutter. I have a feeling he’s one of those who would tear out advertising and replace it with what he considers “vital public information” (like calorie counts and warning labels) and “art.”
A notable feature of many formerly Communist countries is the apparent absence, or impotence, of any notion of a common good.
Hogwash. Communism was 100% about the “common good.” What was absent was any respect for individual good.
Modern example: Down the road toward Houston is The Woodlands, a town so self-important it requires the article. They exercise total control over commercial signage. Size, height, colors, style, materials, all tightly regulated. Signs are nearly identical. There’s none of the “corporate messaging” that dismays Crawford. And if you don’t already know where the store you’re looking for is, you damn well can’t find it.
We’ve all-but eliminated billboards along interstates, and so each exit has several Highway Department signs to tell you what brands of fuel, lodging, and food are available. But by that time it’s too late to wake up the rest of the family and make a decision.
Crawford doesn’t understand that distraction isn’t Out There, it’s inside your head. People who think Deep Thoughts do so regardless of what’s going on around them. That’s what Condition White is for. (And it’s not always short-term healthy. I’ve known computer programmers who would still be coding as the building burned down.) I walk through an airport and watch people (because that’s what my mind is filtering for) not commercials.
I am already in a state of low-level panic about departure times, possible gate changes and any number of other contingencies. This fresh demand for vigilance, lest I lose the PowerPoint slide show I will be presenting in a few hours, feels like a straightforward conflict between me and L’Oréal.
Sorry, but eliminating or substituting for commercial messages isn’t going to calm Mr. Crawford down. Soulcraft might. Condition Yellow will, with the backup of Condition Orange when called for. That and carrying a vital flash drive someplace more secure than loose in his pocket.
[/rant]
“‘A notable feature of many formerly Communist countries is the apparent absence, or impotence, of any notion of a common good.’
Hogwash. Communism was 100% about the “common good.” What was absent was any respect for individual good.”
While I’m not sure you quite get what the writer was saying, LarryA (’cause he’s saying the “common good” disappeared only after the Communists fell apart), that was the first place in the article I felt real dismay. You’d think somebody as smart about human nature as Crawford would realize that IF so many post-Communist nations have dropped all love for “the common good” (and I wouldn’t really read it that way), it’s because the alleged “common good” that was shoved by force down everybody’s throats sucked totally.
And yes, it was dismaying to find him only against “commercial” clutter. I’d love to ask, “In what way is commercial ‘noise’ any worse than the noise of constant news or the noise of propaganda or ‘public service’?”
“I hope it happens for you.”
Thanks, Pat. And amen. I find that some of my worst decisions have been made when I let my head overrule my heart. And as to the fear and uncertainty, I’ve been trying to tell myself the same thing, but you say it more convincingly.
I feel sorry for that poor guy whose mind is so weak he can’t choose to ignore ads. And his pathetic belief that “To engage in inventive thinking during those idle hours spent at an airport requires silence”… I’m not even sure what to say. I’ve discovered that when my brain wants to be creative, nothing stops it. In fact, I never know what will trigger something. It might be silence, but it could also be noise. In fact, his whole article was inspired by the clutter he hates- and he “invented” an article. A silly article, but I guess he got paid for it.
Sounds to me like he is just upset that he can’t think clearly and is searching for something else to blame.
I could have been clearer. I took him as saying post-communism was worse because it lacked “common good.”
In the 1970s I did a couple of cultural exchange tours behind the Iron Curtain before it fell. Communism, contrary to how it was advertised in the West, was anything but a Worker’s Paradise. There was no “commercial clutter” because there was little commerce. A shop selling bread (when the manager could get raw ingredients)had a sign that simply said “Bread.” No brand name, because it was bourgeoisie to make better bread than anyone else. We stayed in first-class hotels, and it was remarkable if, in your bathroom, the light, the sink, and the toilet all worked. The suburban homes we stayed in had outhouses, without toilet paper. The best description I could come up with was “grim.”
If advertising is the price of abundance, it’s well worth paying.
Kent — I admire your ability to be creative in any circumstance or setting. Unfortunately I’m more like the writer of the article. My brain just flips out when I’m hit with too much external stimulation. You are very, very fortunate.
So to me the article wasn’t silly overall, though large parts of the writer’s viewpoint were … a bit skewed IMHO.
“If advertising is the price of abundance, it’s well worth paying.”
Agreed.
Yet at the same time, the sheer “noise” of the outside world (not just the ads) becomes overwhelming. Certainly better than the grim alternative of a world based on claims of “common good,” though.
Lady Bird’s beautify America campaign got rid of a lot of the billboards on the interstate, which I consider a loss in a way. Local businesses don’t have any other way to inform travelers of their existence. I try to pay some attention to the billboards I can see, and I check the exit ramp “Food” entries in the hopes I will find something I don’t recognize. It happens, but not that often.
“By conventional corporate standards, I’m not technically qualified. If they were collecting resumes and mine turned up in a big stack, they’d toss it in the first go-round, no need to bother with an interview.”
I ran into that years ago when I had taken a hiatus from engineering. When I finally decided to get back into it my resume invariably got tossed by HR departments because I did not have a degree. My wife ran into some former engineer associates at lunch one day who she told I was looking for work, and they carried my resume to their manager, bypassing HR and getting me the job. Those guys KNEW what I could do. Using unofficial channels to get a job is a long tradition in the corporate world.
Which is not to say you SHOULD do it. But it’s not a bad thing having some money coming in, heh.
As to commercial clutter, that is a natural consequence of liberty. It’s only in tyrannies where our view is carefully controlled. That’s not to say that peace and quiet cannot be found in liberty.
There are no billboards in the Columbia Gorge, one of the natural wonders in America. But when one actually spends time there, it is impossible to ignore the following, due to the associated noise:
1) One interstate highway on the Oregon side
2) One major state highway on the Washington side
3) One railroad on the Oregon side, carrying frequent garbage trains from Portland
4) One railroad on the Washington side, carrying frequent garbage trains from Seattle
5) Barges on the river, carrying wheat to the ports
6) The river is actually a lake because of dams and hydro power installed to process aluminum for American wars
7) The windmills on the eastern end of the Gorge, on the skyline, created to harvest subsidies from government
Looks like even a government-controlled environment has clutter.
“Which is not to say you SHOULD do it. But it’s not a bad thing having some money coming in, heh.”
Paul, I hear ya on the non-conventional qualifications and the virtues of income. Nice to have friends, isn’t it?
And yeah … good point on the “clutter,” though no doubt Crawford would see most of that as picturesque, rather than cluttery.