The Meaning of Music

It was a darkness all my own
A song played on the radio,
But it went straight to my heart
I carried it with me
Until the darkness was gone...

Music and art has a special meaning for everyone. Whether it takes us back to a better time, or reminds us of rebellion, or whatever, we grow attached to the culture our music and art represents. For me, like many others, music was an escape from whatever demons we were fighting. It was a moment shared with a band and a group that understood what was going on, even if we were all strangers. I think that’s what always drew me to several of my favorite bands, including the Bouncing Souls.

Above is a line to their song “Gone,” which was featured on their How I Spent My Summer Vacation album in 2000. I didn’t start listening to the Bouncing Souls until 2006, yet I felt like this Jersey band got me. I feel that way about most music I listen to, but this band in particular always found a way to say the things I felt without being specific. And that is the magic of music. The ability to connect with people and spread culture in a way that makes you throw your fist in the air and scream every word to no one but yourself, because in this moment you are at peace.

While I don’t believe this is unique to the punk culture, or punk music in general, punk music has always been the map guiding me through some of the toughest moments of my life. That is what sticks out the most to me about this song. The Bouncing Souls have a magical way of taking a complex subject and making it both relatable and something that makes you want to sing and dance along to. The quote above really strikes a cord with what punk music has always been for me.

No matter the darkness we are fighting through, music will get us through. We will carry it with us until we make it to the other side, because without music… we are lost.

Colemak: Day 2

I completed a quick speed test online and increased my speed to 9 wpm. You may be wondering why I am torturing myself with this change. With my travel schedule, I find it m’re effective to listen to audiobooks. I’m currently working through Josh Kaufman’s The First 20 Hours: How to learn anything fast. In applying his methodology, Kaufman utilizes his methodology to learn several skills including using the Colemak keyboard.

This feels like learning a new language. I hope that as my typing speed increases, the quality of my posts increase as well.

Diving Into Colemak

Today I decided to take the plunge into using a Colemak keyboard. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a keyboard layout improving upon QWERTY. The going is slow, but I expect it to improve steadily over time.

I typically type at up to 107 wpm, but am now at approximately 6 wpm with Colemak. Obviously I will need to improve significantly to be effective. My posts will continue to include updates on this along with my next project.

More to come soon. 

In Search of Greatness

 “When you play, never mind who listens to you.” -Robert Schumann

It wasn’t until 1997 when I saw my first professional sports game. I’m not including the few innings of a Scranton-Wilkes Barre Red Barons game I’d gone to because I read a couple books, or a drive or two of the New York football Giants when my brother had it on.

See, my parents weren’t big into sports. They laughed at the idea of people running around a field chasing a ball. They’d pick on my brother for following the Mets, and they  jeered at any mention of the idea of sports.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t show interest.

It wasn’t until 1997 that my interest peaked. I can’t explain it. My brother was in the army, and at school they were making a big to-do about who would win the Super Bowl: the Packers or the Patriots. 

This kid I couldn’t stand was rooting for New England, so guess who I decided to root for?

I remember running home that night and asking my mom if I could watch the game. Once she was done giving me her snark, she realized that I was serious. She bought me soda and chips, and now I was committed!

The plays, the athleticism, the coaching was all lost on me then. All I recognized was that Brett Favre was a hero, and Green Bay won. I can remember Reggie White sacking Drew Bledsoe.

It would be atleast another decade before I missed a Super Bowl.

My love for sports grew. I followed in my brother’s foot steps in following the Giants. They thanked me for my loyalty with two Super Bowl victories over guess who? The Patriots.

By the time the Patriots lost to the Giants a second time, I started to realize how much I’d missed routing solely for one team, and bashing the rest... I didn’t begin following sports until Jordan stopped playing, and the stars of the 90’s were retired or broadcasting..

I never appreciated the stars like Troy Aikman or John Elway. They either played before I cared or for a team I despised.

But now it’s different.

I now recognize that it’s not about team identity or brand. You can celebrate a great CEO, even if it’s for a competitor. Competition in itself fuels what I aim for... greatness.

I will never be Lebron James, but I can always strive to be the best I can be.

How do we support this culture in our companies? Is the lower ceiling limiting each employee’s willingness to strive for their greatness, or are we as leaders missing the opportunity to cheer them on?

“Even I drank the Kool-Aid”

 In my travels, I get to meet a variety of people with incredible stories to share.  This series focuses on the rare glimpses I get into other people’s lives. These stories are meant to be observations and thought-provoking, and not in anyway a judgment or criticism.

“Did I ever tell you about when I worked at #######?” Her silhouette asked as the sun beamed through the window behind her.  

I nod, politely, curious where this is going. 

“Yeah, it’s a big company, ya know?” She continued. “I started in customer service, then was in charge of a team.

”You didn’t have a life; you were expected to work on holidays and weekends... everyone did it.” 

She was lost in the moment. Reminiscing on her past life as if those were the glory days. 

“I worked for  ####### for seventeen years, but now it’s time to spend more time with my family. 

 “That’s partly why I’m here. Sure I was laid off, but I didn’t know then what I know now. The managers there drank the Kool-Aid, ya know?

”I guess even I drank the Kool-Aid.” 

The Writing Funnel

“You don’t start out writing good stuff. You start out writing crap and thinking it’s good stuff, and then you gradually get better at it. 

“That’s why I say one of the most valuable traits is persistency.” -Octavia E. Butler

 Sales is driven by your ability to fill your funnel for every stage of the sale. After all, it’s a numbers game. 

 If you initiate enough conversations, you’ll build a list of contacts. Out of those contacts you may get a few appointments which will hopefully lead to one sale. Depending on the product and the seller, it could take upwards of fifty to hundreds of contacts just to get your “yes.”

For many artists and writers, their creative brains start by building new ideas, filling post-it notes, index cards, and whiteboards. Like lost tracks from bands, many never see the light of day.

While most end up in the creator’s graveyard, some ideas get planted. Maybe it turns into a short story scribbled in a notebook, or the sketch becomes a quick painting. The artist taking the steps to flesh out the idea, but not completely committing.  

And yet the writer still only picks a handful of those to nurture, and build upon turning into a work for submission. A piece of the artist’s heart given out to editors and critics to dissect and reject.  

Only then does that piece have a chance of making it through the funnel and becoming published... and that’s if it is accepted. 

How do you fill your creative funnel? 

“Do you mind if I take this call?”

In my travels, I get to meet a variety of people with incredible stories to share.  This series focuses on the rare glimpses I get into other people’s lives. These stories are meant to be observations and thought-provoking, and not in anyway a judgment or criticism.

Streams of water slid down the auto glass while lights speckled around me like a lit Christmas tree... only every bulb was red. 

“Chicago traffic,” I thought.  

Thumbing through endless emails, requests for information, lists of metrics, and random bear notices I find the perfect balance of productivity, challenges and humor.  

“Robby, I’m expecting a call for interview soon. Am physicist from my home country, and have been looking to be physicist in a Chicago for four years.

“I’ve been driving Uber to pay my bills until then. Do you mind?”

”Not at all. How are you feeling about the interview?” 

”A little nervous... my English not too good, ya know? But I physicist where I come from for sixteen years, can you believe? I take courses and everything, ones I’ve already taken, ya know?”

I reply, “yeah, you’re frustrated.” 

”I am, and the worst part...” 

Bohemian Rhapsody interrupts our conversation.  

“This is it! Do you mind if I take this call?”