Remain Relevant in Changing Times

Are you a relevant networker?

Are you a relevant networker? How do you know? I've always thought I was pretty good at purposeful networking, but it never hurts to occasionally review what I'm doing to make sure I'm being as effective as possible.

That's why I was delighted to have the opportunity to hear Andrew Dietz of Creative Growth Group in
Atlanta last week. He offered some terrific reminders of what we need to do to remain relevant as networkers so that we can build our businesses in an effective way. Here's the bottom line: it all comes down to  who you know and who knows and likes you.

He said there were three keys to client development survival:

1. Mine relationship assets. Take a total inventory of who you know. There are four essential affinity groups to consider: Community, Work/Career, Family and Friends, and Educational Institutions. We all know people from each of these life categories but often forget to harness the power they represent. When we reach out to others in a way that proves we want to help them as much they help us, we increase the likelihood of a positive experience.

2. Connect with content. Make sure you've earned the right to connect. There are many ways we can make meaningful connections, from providing information to introducing people to one another who can help each other. Andrew offered a matrix of Ideas, Information, Introductions and Income, and how we can make connections with others we identified in the four mining categories.

3. Navigating likeability. It may seem like a big "duh," but aren't all the basics that really work? Here's a quote Andrew offered from the June 2005 Harvard Business Review: "When people need help getting a job done, they'll choose a congenial colleague over a more capable one... if someone is liked, his colleagues will seek out every bit of competence he has to offer." Andrew echoed this, noting that people want to help people they like, so make sure you really think through what you can do to show how likeable you are by seeking common ground, fostering familiarity, and showing genuine appreciation for others' efforts.

Andrew's primary focus in the meeting I attended was face-to-face networking, but the principles he described can certainly be applied to the online world. I'm a big fan of www.LinkedIn.com because of the incredible opportunity it offers to apply networking skills on a larger scale. Of course, good networkers don't depend on a single vehicle for networking. The most powerful networking occurs though a combination of good, old-fashioned palm pumping, combined with the efficiency online tools offer.

The main takeaway was simple, but powerful: if you aren't maintaining your network on a regular basis, you're risking becoming irrelevant. It will take a lot more effort to become relevant with your network again than it takes to just maintain it.

The day my land line phone became irrelevant

Until recently, it hadn't really occurred to me that my phone would become irrelevant. Yet, that's exactly what has happened. April 30 will be the last day my land line interrupts the middle of one of my favorite shows, which, ironically enough, are House and Flip That House (no connection between the two).

After almost 20 years of having the same land line phone number, we have decided to go completely wireless. I honestly have no anxiety about this at all. I can't remember the last time someone called me on my land line who wasn't soliciting for something. My daughters have never had a land line, so calls coming in aren't for them either. It's time to  "let it go." I've come a long way from my childhood days when our family shared a party line with a neighbor.

When I called Bellsouth to let them know of my decision, the first thing  I was told was that I would now be  dealing with "The new AT&T" (as if that made a difference). When I told Chris that I had decided I no longer needed a land line, he suggested I keep the line at a new reduced rate of  about $25 a month, less than half what I had been paying. I explained that the same $25 bucks could buy me an enormous amount of additional, flexible cell service. He didn't even try to argue with me. Maybe he realized the service he was selling was quickly becoming irrelevant to a lot of homeowners like me. Still, wouldn't you think he'd fight harder to keep a 20-year customer?

The day I called to cancel my land line, I also called T-Mobile to switch my daughter's cell service to Verizon because T-Mobile's service is spotty in the college town where Sydney will soon move. The rep did everything he could to prevent the switch. He offered to find out when better coverage would be available and said I could suspend the service until then, thereby keeping the number and not leaving a "service you have enjoyed since January 2004, according to our records." He then suggested switching to a newer phone that had better signal strength and, oh by the way, would be available to me at a discount rate as a reward for being such a good customer. I really liked this guy and actually felt guilty about canceling the service; however, I had already checked into T-Mobile's future coverage plans and knew they didn't include the GCSU area. I was very impressed with the rep's efforts to make T-Mobile continue to be relevant to me. And if T-Mobile had plans to increase coverage in the area soon, I would have stayed with the service.

How about your company? What do you do to ensure you remain relevant to your clients? Don't wait until they've decided they no longer need you before you figure out you still need them.

Going in the hospital? Better learn the language

A kind nurse rolled me out of the hospital yesterday, eternally grateful to be headed home after several days of tests and treatments. I'm on the mend again, feeling much better and smarter all at the same time. I went in speaking only English. I came out bi-lingual, fully understanding medi-speak. I hope you don't have to use this, but just in case, I want to share with you the most relevant language being used in a modern hospital.

Hat: you'll never want to wear one of these one your head. It's what they call  the little plastic  bowls they put in the toilet before asking you to  "collect" your own  "elimination."

Temporary discomfort: if told you "might experience a little temporary discomfort" you're in trouble. It really means, "This is going to hurt like hell but you'll get over it in a few days."

Hot stick: you don't want one of these. It means a "special IV technician" is about to take a harmless looking needle with wings and stick it way deep into a vein, thrusting it in an out while your entire body burns. Just before you pass out, the technician will cheerily announce, "OK, I think I've found one that works!" Resist the urge to respond, "Are you sure? I once went on an archeological dig that wasn't this comprehensive or time consuming."

We're trying to isolate the problem: this is what doctors say when they don't agree with one another on your diagnosis. One of mine thought I had Crohn's Disease. Another was sure my problem was e.coli. After a rousing game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors" they concluded they were both right.

Nutrition: this used to be called "food service." In recognition of the fact that few people would call it food, lawyers are now requiring hospitals to stick with the simplest, most objective term. After all, everything on the tray does, in fact, have some kind of nutrition in it. (Except for the shredded iceberg lettuce with low fat dressing.)

Blood products: Adding the word "products" is apparently supposed to give blood transfusions more of a consumer feel, almost like you're getting something you've shopped for. When these products are delivered right to your bedside, they also come with multiple nurses, who check one another's  ability to match the names and numbers on your arm band with what is printed on the bad of blood (which, btw, isn't red so much as it's maroon). When you see the intensity on their faces while they read, it makes you very nervous and grateful all at the same time.

Vital signs: these are things that must be checked every 12 minutes, day and night, especially when you're sleeping. For some reason, vital signs cannot be checked at the same time you're being given medicine or food. It's a whole separate procedure that also can be done only with all the lights on.

My favorite word is discharge because it means you're headed home. At this point, you receive all kinds of paper work that essentially says "here's how you take care of yourself." They slip in several paragraphs that note that if your insurance company doesn't pay the bill, you have to give the blood back or they'll come to your house and do an instant "walletectomy."

I'm certain this language will keep evolving, so I encourage you to share what you have learned from your own personal experience.  We have to do our parts to remain relevant as patients because, believe me, you don't want to be an irrelevant patient!

Viewing relevance from a hospital bed

Relevance, I've learned, looks pretty different from a hospital bed. I'm lying in one now in room 619 at Kennestone Hospital in Marietta, GA, where I've spent the past four days being tested up the wazoo. I came in through the emergency room on Sunday, which is my preferred method (you get serviced faster that way and who doesn't like a little drama?).

A number of issues had me here, the most serious being the rapid increase of my creatine, which measures kidney function. My transplanted kidney was starting to poop out on me.

I certainly couldn't afford a lose a second transplant. I've run out of sisters. Lucky for me, Dr. Robert Jansen from Georgia Kidney Associates, has been on the case. First the good news... I'll be fine.

Meanwhile, I've noticed some interesting changes since my last extended visit here five years ago. The lovely hospital gown I was offered first thing wasn't the solid institutional blue of years past. Instead, it has "Hospital Property" stamped all over it. Is this to ensure I don't get it confused with my personal identical gown brought from home? Or is it a reminder of who's really the boss here? For the record, I never thought it was me. I've always assumed it was the insurance company.

For instance, yesterday I was taken to a mysterious cavernous part of the building for a colonoscopy and endoscopy (and from the way I felt later, apparently another oscopy they failed to mention). The doctor asked me if I wanted to be put to sleep for the procedure. I told him anyone who was getting ready to put a tube up my butt better have drugs or some very strong chardonnay. Then I probed (before he did), "Why would you ask?" He said, "Because it will cost your insurance company more if I do it that way. Some people prefer to just put up with the temporary discomfort."

Not this somebody. I didn't care what the insurance company thought about any of this. But it was a real "ah ha" moment for me. Insurance companies, for better or worse, are becoming more and more relevant to our everyday lives, requiring decisions that previously didn't even merit consideration.

Another thing that has struck me is how technology drives so much of the healthcare system now. Everything here beeps, rings or hums. Every person, from the surgeons to the cleaning crew, have cell phones attached as closely as vital organs and they ring constantly (the phones, not the organs). Information flies around wirelessly and yet, as far as I can tell, most of these systems don't talk to one another very well. I still had to answer the same questions 10 times. Maybe they're really just trying to determine my memory skills.

There are several channels on the internal TV system showing educational shows about various medical procedures. That's fine, but what would be even better - and more relevant - would be if I could go to the web site and just download these episodes into my iPod.  Few things are more comforting than having an articulate doctor right there in the palm of your hand gently explain something (on demand, no less).

And while they're at it, a few links to blogs and web sites about specific procedures would be good too. Right now, WellStar (Kennestone's parent) has some great information on its web site that's strictly text based, but they need to take things up a notch.

Hey, we impatient patients are sitting here with laptops picking up the wifi connection. Why not send us to pre-selected links? It might keep us busy enough to lay off the "call nurse" button for a while.

Girl Scouts go digital: Computer cookies get a whole new meaning

One of the great ironies of my life is that I got fat eating Thin Mints. I cannot resist them. I've been known to drive all over Cobb County, GA in March searching for uniformed Girl Scouts standing behind folding card tables hawking the most wicked of all treats.

But that is so last year. Now the Girl Scouts have gone digital. That's right - they're promoting their annual fundraising cookies in all the places we visit every day: YouTube, Grouper, Friendster, MySpace and more. No more driving around looking for cookies. Look for them in blogs (like this one!) and heaven only knows where else. There will be no escaping the Girl Scouts now. If you have a zip code, they can tell you the closest place to buy their cookies.

Well, let me say, "Thanks a lot, girls." I have always justified buying cookies my hips didn't need because I have a hard and fast policy to always purchase anything a child is selling for a good cause. When I started at Edelman, I even considered it an employee benefit that I could order cookies right here at the office, thanks to one little Allie Tucker, a beautiful child with the darkest, brownest, most soulful eyes I've ever seen. Although she's a talented little sales leader, the truth is all she has to do is look at me and I'll hand over a blank check.

She reminded me this year that I could order several boxes of cookies and freeze the ones I don't eat right away. I'm not sure what planet Allie is from, but in my world there's no such thing as leftover Girl Scout cookies.... or extra boxes. I ordered more than usual this year so I could participate in an Edelman plan to send some to the troops in Iraq. In case I lose that altruistic feeling when those beautiful Thin Mints, Samoas and TagAlongs arrive, I've bookmarked my favorite places where I can send others a link where they can begin their own lifelong habit that's as powerful as any drug being peddled on the street. Somehow, it feels almost dirty, but I'm sure I'll get over it.

The Girl Scouts are celebrating their 90th year of sales in 2007. More than just a fundraiser, this annual rite aims to teach girls the ins and outs of being an entrepreneur. I can't think of a better lesson they could learn than the importance of how to remain relevant in changing times. 

I congratulate them - and their partner, Ripple Effects, for this brilliant strategy. With the money I'll save in gas, I can buy more boxes of Thin Mints!

Super Bowl commericals reflect mood of the country

It's the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl as I'm writing this and I feel like I've seen enough commercials to detect a distinct pattern. It's not pretty. Seems to me the commercials have been more violent than in the past, including the cartoonish ones. What's up with that? I can only assume those producing the commercials decided to take their frustrations about the war out in supposedly more subtle ways.

Two guys who apparently love Snickers bars ripped off their chest hair. In a FedEx commercial, a poor fellow was creamed by a meteor. Bud Light showed a hitchhiker toting an ax and looking like a mass murderer, which, frankly, wasn't as scary as ETrade's depiction of a bank where the employees rip off customers and make them feel like they're in the middle of a violent bank robbery. At first I thought I was watching CSI.

I confess it struck me as a tad funny that Prudential's commercial "Like a rock" theme made me think for a nanosecond they said "Iraq."

I wasn't sure what to expect when I heard that Coca-Cola would make a comeback this year at the Super Bowl after an absence of several years, but I was delighted and pleased to see they went for the tender, sweet touch, harkening back to the days when they did the famous "Hilltop" commercial in which they offered to teach the world to sing.

Over all, I can't say I've been terribly impressed with the commercials this year. (The half-time show, however, was one of the best yet, IMHO).

Of course, not every company can afford the $2.6 million it takes to advertise for 30 seconds at the Super Bowl, which is why we have seen such a rise in companies turning to YouTube to grab viewers. A quick check of "2007 Super Bowl Commercials" on the YouTube search engine brought up several and the viewership on some is already pretty high. On the downside, a lot of the comments about the commercials are pretty snarky. At least during the big game, you only see/hear what others in your living room have to say.

This Super Bowl has been unusual in many ways, from the history-making first play (92 yard return for a touchdown) to consumer-generated commercials, to instant postings of commercials on YouTube.

There are now 6 minutes left in the game and it appears the Colts will win (YAY!). But the real winner, in my view, are the companies that got to try something new this year, whether or not it appeals to me personally. I'm eager to see how this shift from high-dollar, over-produced commercials to something more relevant to today's multitasking viewers turns out. What do you think?

Lessons learned from prom dress shopping

I spent a good part of my weekend prom dress shopping with my youngest daughter, Sydney. Although her senior prom isn't until March 24, she decided she had better get started, since it's much harder to find a dress than it is a date (at least if you're a beautiful, popular girl).

After going to the four stores where we have bought previous formal dresses and feeling more like an intruder than a customer, Syd and I gave up and came home to turn to the Internet for help. That's how we found A Formal Affair in Roswell, GA, which turned out to be a new store in a strip shopping mall on Holcomb Bridge Road. We were blown away from the moment we walked in the door. Sydney said it best: "Don't you love to go into a place to looks expensive only to find out it doesn't cost more than those crowded stores we went to?"

(Relevance lesson number 1: customers like to feel special from the first moment of contact. Even teenagers like to feel important... they notice things like how spacious a store is.)

Vanessa, a beautiful young African-American woman, greeted us warmly, told us the store was family owned and immediately started asking how she could help. She explained that the dresses were arranged by color, then size. She asked which prom Sydney would be attending and what kind of dresses she liked. Her questions weren't gratuitous. She seemed to actually be interested in Sydney's answers. Within minutes, Sydney had selected six dresses to try on. (She hadn't found six in the four previous stores combined, primarily because she tends to be modest and didn't really care for the most common style - plunging necklines and a back that started just above the crack her her butt. My God, some of these dresses could have their own reality show!)

(Relevance lesson number 2: understand that the decision maker isn't necessarily the person who swipes the debit card. In this case, focusing on Sydney's likes and dislikes while looking at me "offline" for an approving glance, ensured neither of us felt alienated.)

Rather than hang the dresses in a room and yell, "Call if you need anything," which is how other shops treated us, Vanessa instead stood by the dressing room and offered to help her try each dress on, showing her how it could be altered if she didn't feel it fit just right. She also pointed out the advantages and disadvantages of each dress. For instance, dresses with trains make lovely photos but can be cumbersome on the dance floor. Beautiful  Southern Belle hoop dresses can be difficult to sit down in. I've still no idea which dress Vanessa liked best. She seemed perfectly objective about them all.

Each time Sydney emerged from the dressing room, Vanessa helped her onto a riser stage that had three-way mirrors and encouraged her to take her time, try to dance, sit down, bend over, all the things a girl in a prom dress would probably do on prom night.

(Relevance lesson number 3: customers will listen to someone who seems to genuinely want to help them by thinking through with them how the product will really be used, not just how cool or beautiful it is.)

By the way, while all this trying of dresses was going on, I was comfortably seated in a big, beautiful, soft chair facing the stage. I could have sat there for hours. Why haven't more retail stores figured out that Moms don't want to stand for a long time holding two purses while trying to be patient and enthusiastic?

(Relevance lesson number 4: consider ALL your customers and do the little things it takes to make them feel they matter.)

After watching Sydney try on several gowns and getting an idea for what really appealed to her, Vanessa then brought a couple of gowns to Sydney that she had not selected for herself. Wouldn't you know the one we bought was one Vanessa selected? And not once did she say, "This looks better on." (That reminds me of my favorite Rita Rudner joke. She said she was looking at an ugly dress in a store when the clerk said, "That looks much better on." Rita replied, "On what? Fire?")

(Relevance lesson number 5: you have to earn trust and respect before you can offer an opinion and be listened to. Vanessa didn't begin her interaction with us by making suggestions. She waited until the right time.)

In the end, we bought the "perfect" dress (pink, in case you're wondering). Vanessa then recorded Sydney's contact information and prom details and guaranteed her she would not sell that same dress to another girl attending Sydney's prom. Moreover, she showed her a couple of tuxedos that would beautifully complement the dress (including a pink vest that matched Sydney's dress perfectly). She told her she could send her date there to rent his tux and he would get a 25 percent discount by mentioning Sydney's name. She asked Sydney to please tell her friends about the store and let them know that they would be open seven days a week through prom season.

(Relevance lesson number 5: treat your customers well and ask them to help you spread the word. They'll gladly do so. Sydney must have "texted" a half dozen friends about A Formal Affair before we got home!)

Finally - the most important lesson of all: it doesn't matter what business you're in or whether your customers are high school seniors or senior citizens: 1) treat them like they matter; 2) earn their trust and respect; and 3) ask them to help you tell your story.