The sky is not falling

Peggy Noonan’s universe is coming to an end.  Well, that’s what we’re led to believe if we take her latest WSJ column at face value.  The column is 1200 words of anecdotes from people she knows, in and out of the halls of power in New York and Washington, telling her that Something is Wrong.  People are buying guns and antidepressants and withdrawing all their money from the bank and looking for rural real estate on which to “grow things.”  It feels like 1930.

I respectfully disagree.  Not that Something is Wrong; there is definitely something wrong, but it’s with the media, not the people.  I know I’m using a broad brush by referring to the media, which includes everyone from the hysterical Jim Cramer to the phlegmatic Ms. Noonan.  But the thread they have in common is to insinuate that there is some fundamental change in the way Americans view life, six months into the financial crisis and over a year into the recession. 

The facts don’t come out in the media’s favor.  Their own reports are at odds with the gloomy way they are presented.  8% unemployment!  Ford workers losing their Easter Monday holiday in labor concessions!  401K matches being suspended!  Help! The sky is falling!  8% unemployment (and even 10+% in Michigan and California) is no picnic, but that still means 90-92% of Americans who want a job have one.  Easter Monday?  For crying out loud.  I didn’t even know this was a holiday anywhere, and I work at a bank. 

On the subject of banks, I can state confidently that populist congressional representatives grilling bank executives about “failures” to disperse TARP funds is all politicking.  Banks are lending; people are taking their money out of risky investment vehicles and placing it in FDIC-insured savings accounts, not under the mattress as Ms. Noonan would lead us to believe.  The reason constituents are complaining to congress is because non-bank lenders are out in the cold, and banks and non-banks alike are now somewhat more selective to whom they extend credit (i.e., something more than a name and a pulse is now required, as opposed to, say, mid-2005).  Personal savings rates are up.  This is good stuff.  Would these mournful journalists have us leap back into the Madoff-esque investments and 80:20 piggyback mortgages they’ve been decrying for the past year?

I didn’t think so.

Of course, the “media” is also mourning the failures of daily newspapers across the nation, and zeroing in on TV and cable executives who are fighting the migration to the Internet (and subsequent reduced revenue) of their broadcast cash cows.  From a  consumer perspective, innovation is working its magic.  Printed papers will eventually go the way of the telegraph, and TV content will eventually be on-demand and consumer-driven.  Innovate or die, folks.

All of this makes little difference to the 90+% of American workers who get up and go to the job every day.  Most people are worried about retirement, healthcare, college for the kids, and so forth, but that’s not new.  One of my colleagues got it about right the other day when he said that the “recovery” will take place when we stop complaining how bad things are, dust ourselves off and get to work fixing the problems.  Journalists take note. 

An update on social networking futility

About a year ago, I posted about how I was being bombarded with invitations from people on one social networking site (the only one I use) to connect with them on other social networking sites. I still get these invitations to new communities on a regular basis, which astounds me. Perhaps some entrepreneur is making bank building social networking platforms that entrepreneurs will use to attract people who want to build social networks. I would have predicted a sooner arrival at social networking entropy outside the big 3-4 sites, but I guess there’s always another sucker. Except in the current residential real estate market.

In addition to these “Join me on [community name]!” messages, I’m seeing a few new types of messages that have increased in frequency as the economy has worsened. One of these is the “Status Update” message from someone in the far reaches of my network; a friend of a friend, or a former prospect (who never bought anything), or someone else I dimly remember (maybe) from a business lunch in 2005. The “Status Update” is typically a long, rambling affair that begins cheerily with a couple of anecdotes about ice fishing, the Longhorns, or some other equally useless topic, then gets down to business:

“The past few months have been a tremendously challenging time. Like many of you, I’ve recently had to readjust my priorities and my approach to success.”

Translation: “I’ve lost my job.”

The “Update” continues with more Tony Robbins-esque euphemisms, such as:

“Of course, the Chinese terms for ‘crisis’ and ‘opportunity’ are the same, and we need to look at this time as a true opportunity to grow and develop what matters to us most. For me, this has been a great chance to connect with what matters to me most as I seek the most effective way to prepare for the future.”

Translation: “I’ve really been enjoying the ice fishing this winter.”

After a few more motivational cliches, the “Update” turns into the “Appeal for Help” – but only in such an oblique way as to protect the author’s dignity:

“As many of you know, I’ve dedicated the last two decades of my career to delivering the highest levels of client service in hip replacement prosthetics sales in the Pacific Northwest region. With the recent unfortunate events in the financial sector, my former employer, Sawbones Inc, has been unable to secure 27th-round venture capital funding, which would of have put us on the road to profitability well before our target of FY2017. This being the case, I have seized the bull by the horns and started my own direct-sales business in the emerging field of nutritional supplements. Being my own boss is tremendously rewarding, but it also takes A LOT of work, which is why I need your help.”

…And here comes the pitch:

“You have a HUGE network of potential clients, sitting right in your inbox! If, like me, you see the sign for opportunity in this economy, to fire your boss and make thousands along the way, give me a call! We can combine our networks to become even stronger in this crazy economy. Together we can take the nutritional supplements business by storm!”

Translation: “Send me your contacts list so I can grow my downlines.” -or- “Together we will rule the universe as father and son!”

The ending of the “Status Update” varies, of course; they’re not all deceptive pyramid schemes. Some of them just ask outright for a job. Don’t get me wrong on this issue: I’ve recently been helping a number of friends and neighbors in their job search efforts, as I’ve been working as an employment specialist at Church. I’m a firm believer in the power of personal networking in finding the right job. But the power of personal networking is in the “personal” aspect; these spams from characters who offer nothing in return for their petitions don’t grasp the essential, reciprocal nature of an effective network.

So, should social networking sites be used for job networking? Absolutely. Is a form letter to a zillion people the right way to go about it? Absolutely not. In a job search, you will most definitely be sending unsolicited messages to former colleagues or clients, but to really get their attention, you should offer something in return: lunch, a discussion about product development, perspective from one of your recent consulting gigs in the field, etc. If you don’t have anything to offer, keep your message succinct and to the point. Nobody appreciates wading through paragraphs of drivel to find a poorly-worded pitch buried at the end. Even the rabid ice fishermen in our midst.

No Smoker? No Problem!

Tonight we fired up the charcoal grill to cook ribs, the first time in a long while. Ribs is the journeyman dish of barbecue; just enough challenge to be rewarding, but not so difficult that you need professional training to get it right. It's also time-consuming, but well worth it.

Some day (after we make our first million, I routinely joke to Karla), I'll get a dedicated meat smoker. These wonderful devices make ribs, pork loin, and many other smoked meats a cinch. For now, though, we use our Swiss Army Knife of grilldom, the 20" Weber Charcoal Grill. What's so great about the Weber? For starters, it's round, which I believe facilitates convection; it's cheap, simple, has few moving parts, and is weather-resistant. It's also almost always possible to squeeze "just one more" piece of meat on the round grill when you're grilling direct over the coals. For ribs, though, we use indirect grilling and let the convection carry the smoke through the meat. It's a bit of a juggling act to do this with the Weber, but it's not too hard if you have an extra set of hands.

We've found the best approach is to heap a bunch of coals on one side, almost to grill level, and place a disposable foil pie tin with about 3/4" of water on the opposite side. Once the coals are good and hot, we place 2-3 aluminum foil packets filled with soaked mesquite chips on the coals, give them 5 minutes or so to start producing smoke, and then place the ribs on the opposite side over the pie tin.

The trickiest part is controlling the temperature, which should be around 250 degrees if you want to be done in 3-4 hours. Our grill actually runs hot (275-300) for the first hour or so, but we've found that if we let it do this, we still have enough heat left during the third hour to finish the ribs without replenishing the coals. The trick comes if you find yourself below 200-215 degrees, or if your smoke packets run out (as they usually do during the second hour). You need a second person to lift the rack out with oven mitts while you replenish the smoking packets and/or the coals. The easiest way I've found to monitor the temperature is to drop an instant-read meat thermometer down through one of the vent holes. I like to micromanage all my grill adventures, but with ribs I have to content myself with checking the temperature every once in a while, since opening the lid too often (more than 3-4 times overall) to check on the meat can cause problems.

We mop our ribs with a vinegar-Worcestershire-spice blend every hour or so to help them stay moist. Then a quick brush with barbecue sauce once they hit 180 internally, and they're ready to serve.

Karla and I put away a full rack this evening (Spencer, as yet lacking molars, isn't really a big fan of meat in general at this point), along with some homemade fries. Certainly worth the effort!

Job Seekers 101

Lately I've seen many things that remind me how grateful I am to be employed in a good job. To the general employment malaise we learn of with every news report on the economy, I can add my own experience: I currently serve as the employment specialist in my ward, and there are a lot of people in the neighborhood who are looking for work. I'm also on one of the few teams in my company that is actually still hiring, so we are seeing many applicants. This past week in particular I have reviewed a large quantity of resumes and sat through numerous interviews. I hope nobody reading this is currently on the job market, but I'm sure you know someone who is. As a hiring manager, let me share some helpful tips in hopes they will filter through the population of job seekers. I'm in the IT field, but I think this is generally applicable stuff.

First, the resume. Unless you're a C-level executive or college professor, limit your resume to two pages. Use a clear font and avoid fancy formatting that may not translate on everyone's computer. If you are experienced, include a brief summary (five lines or less) of your background and abilities. If you are new to the job market or field, use this space to describe your objective instead. Include full dates (months and years) for each position you have held. Explain any gap longer than 90 days with a brief, accurate statement. Be completely honest. Do not claim titles, roles, responsibilities, education or skills you don't have. For IT or other niche fields, list all your technical skills or technologies in a separate section so that they will be caught by database keyword searches, but not distract from human readability.

Next, the application. Apply only for positions for which you are qualified. Screeners and hiring managers don't appreciate wading through stacks of irrelevant resumes any more than job seekers appreciate spam from the job sites for positions that are completely unrelated to their searches. Just as important, don't apply for a job you don't want to do; even if you're qualified, you will have a tough job convincing the hiring team of your sincerity. If you are compelled to take a position at a lower pay grade than you had previously, be sure to find something that you will enjoy. If you can convince the hiring manager of your passion for the role, they may be less inclined to fear you will bolt to a better position once conditions improve. Include a cover letter that is customized to the position and that makes a case for your value to the organization.

Finally, the interview. This is really what set me off to write this post. I have been amazed with this batch of applicants to find how few of them actually listen to the interviewer. Yes, the interview is the opportunity to sell yourself to the organization, but every good salesperson knows that listening is just as important as talking. Yet time and again, almost every applicant has launched into a rapid-fire delivery of their answer even before the questions is out of my mouth. Even if you have a good sense of what the hiring manager is asking, stop and take a breath before launching into your dazzling riposte. It's often helpful to restate the question to be sure that you understand and are answering what is being asked. The hiring team has two objectives in questioning the applicant. The first is to assess knowledge, skills and experience (the content of the applicant's answer). The second is to assess the applicant's personality and approach, which is revealed in the way they interact with the questioner and the care they take in answering the question. This metadata is at least as important as the content; it shows the depth of perception, interpersonal communication skill, adaptability, and host of other soft skills (a term I have never really liked, since there is nothing "soft" about these skills, especially in senior positions where decisions are made that can have a significant affect on the business). As a small-town motivational speaker once said, "Listening is key!" (This guy was hauled in to an annual meeting at one of my former employers, and however cheesy he was, he did have a point; just not one I'd pay an honorarium to hear.)

I've got six more interviews lined up in the next ten days. Here's hoping the folks in that queue have some of these interview concepts down.

People Unclear on the Concept

At various times in my career I’ve sold IT stuff. Sometimes it was hardware, sometimes software. I always liked selling hardware best. It is what it is. There’s less propensity for weaseling. A SAN disk array, for instance, either has a raw capacity of 20 terabytes, or it doesn’t. If it doesn’t, you whip out the brochure for the next biggest model and commence your upsell. (Perhaps this explains why I no longer sell stuff; I like straightforward, honest communication, and sometimes I’d have to choke something back when a member of my sales team made some outrageous claim of the product we were pitching.)

Software, on the other hand, can be anything to anyone, via the golden ticket of Professional Services. “Does it do this?” “Uh, yeah, our consulting guys can add some code to do that.” Translation: “Multiply the price you see on this quote by four.”

My company is currently looking to buy some software. Maybe. Personally I’m skeptical that the deal can be done in the current business climate, but this isn’t stopping our management from looking at the issue. Which means that I, along with other folks, have the pleasure of sitting through several hours-long presentations and demos. I’ve been favorably impressed with some of the vendors and their options, but one in particular just doesn’t seem to understand what we’re looking for in the way of pre-sales.

For instance, last month they invited all our technical people to a briefing where the ostensible purpose was to demo and discuss the functionality of the software. Instead, we were treated to a death-by-PowerPoint presentation that explained:

1. How great the company was
2. A list of all their products, 27 of which were of zero interest to us
3. A list of 362 business challenges their software meets
4. A hardware product briefing

In short, their client executive took a canned overview briefing and tried to pawn it off as a demo and technical discussion. Our management team was not amused, and sent them packing after the first 90 minutes. (Well, the hardware guys stayed on for another hour, but most of us bailed). So the vendor calls us up after Christmas and says, yes, they are sorry, they learned their lesson, they will have a product demo and technical session ready to roll, just tell them when.

Yesterday was when. The team shows up and the first thing they bring up is a PowerPoint presentation. Three slides in, it’s clear we are getting:

1. How great the company is
2. A list of all their products, 27 of which are of zero interest to us
3. A list of 362 business challenges their software meets

At least this time they left off the hardware briefing. Actually, they did in fact have a demo as well. This lasted for about 30 minutes, after which they hurriedly shut it down, as if it was going to crash and cause shame and disgrace to the whole contingent. As soon as the demo was shut down, we returned to PowerPoint purgatory for another two hours, complete with animated graphics and sliding boxes. (Whatever happened to the bulleted list? Instead we have these sentences in colored boxes that slide around the screen like flying saucers over Roswell. Enough, already; just put the info in a bulleted list, please!)

The sad thing is that, from what little I saw in the demo, this product actually looks like a contender. It seems to have most of what we need, and there seemed to be a relatively small amount of weaseling present in the salesguy’s answers. If the marketing people and their PowerPoint decks would ever get out of the way, we might actually go with this vendor. They just need to realize that we are an informed audience. It’s like showing up at a new car lot and having the salesperson show you the wonders of the automatic transmission. And that occurs only after you’ve talked him into showing you the right vehicle. First you have to spend an hour convincing him that you need a minivan, not a Hummer.

I have to admit a preference for the vendor who sent an engineer to do a demo last month. The first words out of her mouth: “I don’t have any PowerPoints today. We’ll spend the entire time working with the product.” Maybe she worked for a hardware vendor in a past life.

The absurdity of Best/Worst lists

I’m sure I’m not the only person to believe that “Best of” lists are a marketing gimmick. The respected food or movie critic, of course, proffers a list of his or her favorite restaurants or films; that’s the stated purpose of the column or article. It’s also intuitive that an editorial staff can select the “best” stories of the year under the same clearly defined auspices of their vocation. Consumer advocates can safely maintain objectivity by publishing and adhering to the criteria used to evaluate products. Where we go off track is with the pseudoscientific crowd that purports to insert some objectivity into the subjective process of ranking the non-quantifiable.

Take, for instance, an article in today’s WSJ purporting to describe the “best and worst jobs in the U.S.” The article is based on a study that measures “five criteria inherent to every job: environment, income, employment outlook, physical demands, and stress.” The study doesn’t divulge how they’re measured, but from a quantitative standpoint, I don’t see any reasonable way to objectively measure environment, physical demands, or stress. Income (of course) and outlook are readily quantifiable, but when 60% of your criteria are subjective, how can you make any kind of objective claim?

I’m just sayin’.

The error of these types of stories is not that they exist, but that they are presented as scientific. They’ve got one guy, author of a book entitled “Jobs Rated Almanac” and some Bureau of Labor stats. From this we are led to assign some validity, as though we were perusing a peer-reviewed article in Nature. In reality we have one man’s opinion on a bunch of subjective stuff. For example, the study’s website lists 21 “stress” factors that combine to give each rated job a stress rating, but these too are subjective: “Working the public eye” may be a negative for some but a strong positive for others; ditto Competitiveness, Advocacy, Outdoor work, and many others.

Best jobs for whom? From the looks of this list, it’s someone who likes numbers (Mathematician is #1, Actuary is #2, Statistician is #3). The Left-brain set, apparently, has it made. I can think of any number of folks (myself included) who would place these types of positions near the bottom of their lists of preferred jobs. In my case, it’s not because I hate math (although there certainly was a fair amount of innumeracy in the first 16 of my 18 years of formal education). It’s rather what I discovered in graduate school about quantitative science: apply it, and things come alive. I’m sure that many of us use numbers in our work, but few of us really dig the numbers for themselves. (My dad the engineering professor is an exception; I really do think he has a tremendous admiration for numerical systems, whereas so many of us merely benefit from them.)

But it’s not just numerophobes that are left out in the cold by this study. I once had a very successful sales colleague who pulled down well over $150,000 a year. He loved his job, had great work-life balance, and is now making even more money working for one of the biggest technology companies in the country; he’s exceeded quota every quarter he’s been there and will likely continue to be successful and satisfied. Yet his job is not high on the list. My friend once confided to me that he could never go back to “sitting behind a desk”, which seems to describe the majority of the top 20 jobs listed. Granted, we can contrast my friend with a somewhat less successful counterpart in another state, who was so lost as to his role as a salesman that he literally drove around town looking for big office buildings on which to cold call before his employer finally quit giving him advances on his commissions.

The point of these examples is, of course, that different people have different criteria to match their requirements and abilities. To somehow mold the whole working populace into a single expression of priorities, capacities and desires is absurd. But it catches the eye; so long as it’s couched plausibly, the readership will ascribe some validity (“leading expert in the field…government statistics” sounds better than “some guy who wrote a book…subjective measurements”). Job satisfaction is a fairly minor issue in an economy where most of us are merely glad to have a job, but I have no doubt that this type of pseudoscience will continue to make inroads into more substantial issues, so long as there are gullible readers to be found, even among the financial geeks in the WSJ readership. Thanks, Rupert! I can already see the improvement since the Journal joined the News Corp fold.

'Tis the season... for the chiropractor

It’s been a week of sore muscles.

Well, it’s also been a week of celebration, gratitude, generosity, family fun and good food. But the sore muscles really do stand out.

First, the hit to the pocketbook as well as the back: On Monday, we joined the 23% of Americans purchasing televisions this season. This necessitated a trip to Sears to get our plasma. A cheerful Sears minion loaded it into my pickup; Karla and I had to carry it into the house and lift it, above shoulder level, to the TV nook above our fireplace. But that TV is only 87 lbs. The big job was getting the old 32” tube TV (142 lbs, according to Google) out of the nook and then up the stairs to our bedroom armoire. This old beast has been with me for nine years, in and out of at least seven residences. I’m tired of moving it; I think when it finally breaks down, I’ll just toss it out the bedroom window onto the pavement, though knowing the Japanese Victor Company’s tendency to overbuild things, it will probably just bounce a bit.

Our next sore-muscle adventure occurred Christmas morning. My brother and his family had arrived the previous evening at the start of a blizzard that continued for the next eighteen hours. Christmas morning there was a 2-foot snowdrift in front of our house:


After digging out enough to get the garage door open, we scouted the territory and surmised that if we could get Tony’s crossover SUV off the driveway and into the one-lane section of the street that had been plowed, we would probably be okay to make the 40-minute drive to my parents’ place, where family, meals and my niece’s Christmas presents awaited. So we loaded up two toddlers, their gear, several presents and a homemade cheesecake into the car and started down the driveway. We made it about five feet off the driveway before we were stuck. There followed 45 minutes of hilarity, where we would dig the wheels out, only to have the car fishtail back into the mire. Here’s a tip: The 2WD Mazda CX-9 with sun-belt tires is a lousy snow vehicle.


With the snow still coming down (or sideways, as it were, with the wind), we had to throw in the towel. We unloaded the crowd and goodies; after breakfast, we set out to get the Mazda back on the driveway lest it have an unfortunate encounter with a plow or other vehicle. The result was another fun adventure of dig-push-dig-push, chipping through the ice down to the pavement one or two feet at a time, until we cleared the driveway threshold. By this time both Tony and I were soaked and freezing, but I felt better after a hot shower, a hot mug of cider, and a nice nap in front of the fire. Watching the snow continue to come down, I felt awfully glad to be the beneficiary of central heating, R-45 insulation, and Karla’s cooking, rather than being stuck in the snow by the side of the road with two unhappy toddlers. Homemade ham and potato soup isn’t the traditional Christmas feast, but I can’t think of a Christmas meal that tasted better.

The final chapter in the back-breaking week was a voluntary exercise: the transportation and installation of two enormous cabinets my dad made for our family as a Christmas present. Ever since we saw the floor plan for our family room three years ago, we knew we wanted built-in cabinets on either side of the fireplace. The builder wanted to charge us $4000 to put them in, so we decided to add them later. Dad offered to put them together for us this year. I don’t think any of us realized quite how big they would be: eight feet tall, five feet wide and 20 inches deep, each. Doesn’t sound too bad on paper, but when we saw them in my dad’s wood shop, they looked truly imposing. With Dad’s truck snowed in, the only option was my smaller pickup. This required carting them across my parents’ front yard (on a slope), through a foot of snow, to the driveway on the opposite side of the lot.

The snow and ice meant using a hand truck, or most any other back-saving device invented in the past 4000 years, was out of the question. As it turned out, though, the snow was actually more of a benefit than a hindrance. Because these cabinets would be enclosed on three sides by the walls, we didn’t need to keep the sides pretty; it was important to preserve only the front (and interior) of each unit for public consumption. This allowed us to slide the cabinets on their sides for a fair amount of the distance. It was still a chore, since the trail led uphill for several yards, but ultimately it was easier than it would have been on dry ground. We hoisted them into the pickup and made the trip to our home with no incident, though a gust of wind as we came down the hill into the valley caused them to sway a bit (and just about made my heart stop). Karla devised a way to slide the cabinets across our tile and wood flooring by placing bathroom mats face-down on the floor. The rubberized backs of the mats stuck to the cabinets and they slid, carpet-side down, across the flooring easily. There was some lifting and pushing to get them installed in their nooks, but they fit perfectly. Thanks, and nice job, Dad!


So, one week and half a bottle of Advil later, we have a new family room, with high-definition TV and loads of storage space for books, toys, and anything else you can think of. Let’s just hope there’s nothing else to move or shovel for a couple of days. In the meantime, I'll be keeping my eye on snow blower prices.