AFTER THE POST: Perspective Makes This Book a MUST Buy, a MUST Read and a MUST Share

In a post last week, I referenced the New York Times Bestseller "How Do You Kill 11 Million People?" by Andy Andrews.

I was thrilled when Mr. Andrews – or a member of Mr. Andrews' team – reached out me on Twitter. He said he liked the post – despite the fact I told people NOT to buy the book. (I simply suggested checking it out of from the local public library instead.)

He had a sense of humor about it,
adding a friendly "Ha!" in the Tweet.

The ironic part: The exact same day I received the Tweet, I finished ANOTHER book by Andrews – "The Noticer".

This wonderfully great book IS a "buyer." (Not to mention a "sharer.")

"The Noticer" is an easy read that is profound, thought-provoking and inspirational. The theme of the book revolves around its subtitle: "Sometimes, all a person needs is a little perspective."

GREATNESS!

Andrews' web site, The Noticer Project – which deserves its own blog post – describes the book perfectly:

"Based on a remarkable true story, The Noticer beautifully blends fiction, allegory, and inspiration. It provides simple, yet powerful distinctions about love, relationships, value and integrity and will inspire readers to take that first step towards a major life change."

I'm not sure why I'm just now being introduced to Mr. Andrews' fabulous books, but I've already started No. 3: "The Traveler's Gift." (Sorry Mr. Andrews...I got it from the library.)

I'll keep you posted.

Social Media Experiment: Socially Inept?

EDITOR’S NOTE: This was written Oct. 10, 2010, as part of a social media experiment that I decided to document along the way. I had dreams of creating this “scientific journal” but it turned into eight pages of babble. This is the third installment of a 3-part series. Click here to see introductory post.

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One of my last Facebook posts was a picture of me and my son at a Rangers game (right). He was looking up at me and I was acting like I was scolding him. I wrote a clever caption:

“CRASH: Dad, I like how the Rangers match-up against Tampa Bay in the playoffs. ME: BOY! If you just jinxed them...I’m going to spank your tiny little butt.”

Funny, right?

All I could think about after uploading that picture were the potential responses.

“How many people are going to comment on this post?”

“Is anyone going to ‘like’ it?”

“Cute baby photos with funny captions ALWAYS generate some dialogue...and then you throw in the Rangers. WOW! This should be huge!”

“Please! Please! Please!”

Confession: I’m not that pathetic, but I DID login several times to see if anyone had left a comment. (Actually, that’s more embarrassing than my pseudo, over-dramatic thought process.)

But that’s why we post and/or Tweet, right? To get feedback, comments, reTweets?

Otherwise social media isn’t very “social.”

This desire for online interaction started to impact my psyche, though. The adjective “obsessed” carries a lot of negative connotations, but it’s definitely appropriate in this instance.

I HAD to receive feedback.

More confessions:

• I’ve actually gotten my feelings hurt when no one commented on certain status updates.

Explanation: You think you’ve formulated just the right status update – it’s funny, engaging, something everyone can relate to. It’s one of those posts that even makes you giggle. But after you hit “submit”... crickets.

• I check my Twitter account daily to see if any of my thoughtful Tweets were reTweeted.

Explanation: Similar feeble explanation from above...but this is also the case when I share a funny or interesting news story, an inspiring quote or upload a fun picture.

• I would get excited when one of my random followers (Twitter) or a long-lost friends (Facebook) came out of the wood work to share their thoughts.

Note: No pitiful explanation needed.

I just hate the fact that I needed that feedback.

Why couldn’t I just be happy to live peacefully in my quite narcissistic world?

Why couldn’t I be like everyone else and post about where I was or what I was eating? No one is going to respond about a turkey sandwich or the fact I was at Starbucks AGAIN.

This need for online interaction even started to impact my life. I would stress about making the “perfect post,” which means I was thinking about it ALL THE TIME.

I was planning my next update during life’s mundane activities – taking a shower, driving to work and/or mowing the lawn.

But major life events were not exempt.

Example: I was planning my status update even before my just-born son had the birthing goop washed off of him. And I already mentioned the first time my son ate real food – I snapped a photo after his first bite and then raced to the computer.

Yep...missed it all.

I guess I just HAD to have one of my “friends” write “Cute” or “Like father, like son” to get me to my next post.

Social Media Experiment: Tweetest Time to Post

EDITOR’S NOTE: This was written Oct. 6, 2010, as part of a social media experiment that I decided to document along the way. I had dreams of creating this “scientific journal” but it turned into eight pages of babble. Click here to see introductory post.

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While I’ve already admitted extensive use of social media on a daily basis – there are certain times when I become a status-updating fiend:

• During TCU Football Games

• During Texas Ranger Baseball Games

• When I am traveling

Kickoff...Tweet.

First pitch...status update.

Standing in security checkpoint at airport...Tweet, Tweet, status update, Tweet.

The only thing I can figure: I am obsessively passionate about the Frogs and Rangers and there is A LOT of down time at the airport.

We’ll...it’s only been two days, but I’ve already I received my first test in this social media experiment.

For the first time in 11 years, my beloved Texas Rangers played in a postseason game.

Reminder: First pitch...status update.

NOT THIS TIME!

It was the biggest game since 1999 and I couldn’t Tweet about it.

I couldn’t gripe about blown calls, crappy managerial decisions or missed scoring opportunities.

I couldn’t “cheer” with other Ranger fans when something magical happened.

Every time one of these moments occurred during Game 1, I instinctively reached for my Blackberry.

But I stopped myself, quickly realizing that my “sickness” was even impacting the way I watched a baseball game.

To help me cope, I decided that “detox posting” was necessary. (Fake posts typed into Microsoft Word.) I found it very comforting to share what I would have posted/Tweeted.

Here are my quasi-updates:

“I’m not throwing a pitch or taking a swing, but I am beyond-myself nervous heading into this playoff game. GO RANGERS!”

“Had big plans to watch game at local bar – nothing like baseball & beer at 12:30 on weekday. BUT THEN, I got a call from my sick wife. Homeward Bound.”

“A LOT of nervous energy...forced to clean house between innings. My house will be spotless by the time this game is over.”

“Making mental note of people who e-mail or call me during the game. They’ll be officially put on a list of people who don’t really like me very much.”

“Rangers win! Nerves temporarily calmed. Unfortunately have to get back to work. – dang you, 12:30 playoff game!”

“Since I’m superstitious: I have to watch rest of playoffs on my couch, son has to have explosive diarrhea & wife must lay on bathroom floor, trying not to chunk.”

The “detox posting” definitely helped, but I think I’m going to draw a line in the sand and just stop for the rest of the playoffs.

Maybe I’ll pay more attention to the game.

Maybe I’ll just yell at my kid and/or dog if the Rangers do something stupid.

Maybe I’ll just appreciate it for what it is – baseball in October.

Maybe I’ll actually enjoy a victory.

By the time you’re reading this...the Rangers could be World Champions. (Of course, no one will know because I wasn’t able to Tweet about it.)*

*Editor’s Note: Damn those San Francisco Giants.

Social Media Experiment: Disengaging

EDITOR’S NOTE: This was written Oct. 5, 2010, as part of a social media experiment that I decided to document along the way. I had dreams of creating this “scientific journal” but it turned into eight pages of babble. Click here to see introductory post.

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I used the phrase “walking away from social media,” but it was not that easy.

With smart phone applications, e-mail alerts and bookmarks – it was like I had to severe an umbilical cord.

I decided that “disengaging” is a lot more appropriate way to describe it.

I had to delete, cancel and enable features that had embedded themselves into my life. As I was removing all of this functionality, I seriously considered deleting my accounts. I thought it might be easier.

But the thought of that made me feel like a crack addict, debating on whether or not I should throw my pipe off the nearest bridge.

I got cold sweats, suffered from the shakes and thought of EVERY excuse I could muster NOT to do it. All of this while I laid on the floor in the fetal position.

“This is only temporary!”

“Experiment. Experiment. Experiment.”

“They really ARE my friends!”

“I’m not addicted.”

“Why is everyone screaming at me?!?!?”

“I want my mommy!”

Needless to say, I left the accounts active – just removed any reminders or temptations. It was like I put my crack pipe in my sock drawer, praying that I would forget where I hid it.

Example: I use a desktop application to manage my Twitter accounts – Seesmic Desktop. It is designed to sort my Tweets by followers, subjects, etc. It used to automatically launch when I logged into my computer. There were these little chirpy beeps that made me stop shaking.

It was my fix.

Now, Seesmic Desktop has a temporary home in my computer’s trash can and there is silence when I open my laptop.

It’s taunting silence.

Purging all these applications confirmed one thing: The warning signals of addiction were definitely real.

This was apparent again this morning.

I could have sworn that my 8-month-old son rocked a definite “DaDa” when I picked him up out of his crib.

Instead of jumping up and down and bragging to my wife, I looked frantically for my laptop.

“I have to update my status!”

“I have to Tweet about this!”

I snapped back to reality when my boy continued his morning declaration. “Blah da ma me blub a ma poo,” he said smiling and trying to put his foot in his mouth.

It was like he was saying, “Hey, Dad! I thought you weren’t going to Tweet anymore!”

I stopped cold and abandoned my quest for my laptop and/or my Blackberry and/or my wife’s computer and/or any other electronic device I could find to type 140 characters.

I started to ask myself, “But how will anyone know” – but I quickly returned to the moment. I ran into our bedroom and started talking trash to my wife. (Reminder: He said “DaDa” not “MaMa.”)

This incident did give me an idea, though. To help with my “social media detox,” I would jot down what I would have posted and/or Tweeted for that day, and include them in this journal.

Is that cheating?

BLOGGING: 'Forcing My Way Into the Conversation'

This is another tremendous explanation why I blog, why you need to blog, why everyone should be blogging.

This brief 90-second video captures the essence of this powerful social networking tool.

Seth Godin has a remarkable perspective on marketing, business, and social networking. His bio reads, "... a bestselling author, entrepreneur and agent of change."

In this same lecture series, he answers the question "Is social networking good for small business?" 

For all those people who think I'm constantly "playing" on Facebook and Twitter and/or spending too much time writing posts for my blog, I encourage you to watch this 2-minute video (click here to view).

HEARD AN ECKO: T-SHIRT KING INSPIRED TWUNNING

Marc Ecko, founder of the urbanwear behemoth that dons his name, has definitely pushed the envelope in marketing.

Probably his most famous "campaign" was when he bought Barry Bonds record-setting home run ball for almost $750,000. He set-up a web site and asked people what he should do with the ball:

• Give it to Baseball Hall of Fame

• Send it to the Hall with an asterisk cut into it – signifying that Bonds' record was tainted by suspicion of steroids

• Blast it into space

In the March issue of Inc. magazine Ecko's online voting booth was explained: "Dominating the blogosphere and landing on newspaper front pages everywhere, the campaign garnered millions of dollars' worth of publicity and reinforce the edgy, youthful image of the brand."

Mark Ecko didn't just step outside the box, he catapulted himself out of it.

I share this story, because it indirectly inspired me to do something radical on behalf of e-Partners in Giving and our mantra of "never stop giving back."

We are in COMPLETELY different leagues, but when I decided to Twitter after every mile of the Cowtown Half Marathon, Ecko's rational for the Bonds' stunt were echoing in my head. (No pun intended.)

"It was a ridiculous idea, so people would say 'Why would you do that?' I thought, take the hard news and make it go American Idol. It was a social experiment. It was a little P.T. Barnum."   – Marc Ecko

I was going to be running anyway. I thought I might as well use this new social media phenomenon to spread the word about a non-profit that has launched an all-out assault on my heartstrings and the company that I've poured my blood, sweat, and tears into.

The best part of the story...it wasn't going to cost me one penny. (Just a few seconds off my overall pace.)

I didn't land on "newspaper front pages everywhere," but people were paying attention – I received well-wishes from runners across the country and Facebook friends were making comments throughout the day.

The Fort Worth Start Telegram picked up on the story and sent out a Twitter message to its followers, as well as the NBC affiliate in DFW.

To be honest ... it was just a lot of fun to do something different and off-the-wall. Like Ecko said in the magazine interview, "...it's something I need to do more of." 

I wanted to share the entire thread with all of you who weren't glued to your computers this weekend. I've also included some pre- and post-race photos captured by my wife. (I guess I was running too fast, because she couldn't find me on the course.)

(first post of the day)

• Pre-race I….reminder, running Cowtown Half today & sending out tweet at every mile to raise awareness for Back on My Feet.

• Pre-race II….15 minutes to start; shout out to some fellow tweep runners @sdhedman @smullican @saramartisek @Mmarts.

(starting to shed clothes)

• Pre-race III….10 minutes to start – very windy; a lot of trips to porta-potty.

(representing with the homemade T-shirt)

• Pre-race IV….5 minutes to start; more shout outs @jenamn @thedailyrunner @SiobhanBulfin @virtual4now @MichelleDewbs.

(let the race begin)

• Mile 1... DONE! Tons of runners...weather is awesome (a little cool, but perfect for a 13.1-mile jaunt).

• Mile 2...Current pace 8:40 (a little slow, but too many people to turn on the jets.)

• Mile 3...thanks to everyone who supported Back on My Feet with a donation http://www.epartnersingiving.com/drewmyers.

• Mile 4....for more info on Back on My Feet www.backonmyfeet.org; Tweet @20in24.

• Mile 5....feeling strong w/ 8.1 miles to go...pack has thinned out; easier to breath and run now.

• Mile 6....this is my third time to run Cowtown (ran full marathon first 2 times); HOPEFULLY cramps not a problem this time.

• Mile 7...using this as a training run for April 25th Country Music Marathon in Nashville (trying to break 4 hours)

• Mile 8....if I can break 4 hours in Nashville, I can mark No. 41 off my list http://drew101list.blogspot.com/

• Mile 9.... still feeling strong....pacing 8:20 overall (I love running with other people).

• Mile 10…a lot of comments about my T-shirt: “Bring Back on My Feet to Fort Worth.”

• Mile 11…all down hill from here, right? Shout out to Tweep @DianneSanLuis for making donation.

• Mile 12....thanks to all Facebookers who supported my run with a donation to BOMF.

(homestretch – no tweets until the finish line)

• Mile 13....DONE! What a GREAT experiment!

(acting out)

•Post race I...what an interesting experiment. It was actually pretty fun. Definitely made 13.1 miles FLY by. I feel GREAT!

• Post race 2 (final) Thanks to everyone who supported my run. Raised $641 for BOMF in just 5 days – never stop giving back.