Tagged: workplace

44 Years Since CNN Took A Chance on Me

The ID badge is dated December 1, 1981 but November 30 was really my very first day at CNN, 44 long years ago.

It was a rainy day in Atlanta. I was alone in beautiful apartment with just a sleeping bag, air mattress, lawn chair, 19-inch TV and a cardboard box that served as table for eating, and some clothes. All my other stuff was in Tucson, Arizona, along with my wife, who flew back there to sell our little adobe block house.  She was gone for three months, along with my stuff.

By the time our house was sold and my wife, and belongings and furniture arrived with her, that poor cardboard box was a greasy mess from its use as my dining room table/foot stool.

I was hired as one of the 10 original producers to launch the new network, CNN2, which eventually became Headline News.

If the bosses really knew how much experience I had producing television newscasts I’m sure they would have sent me on my way, but I fooled them with a kickass tape of my newscasts at KGUN, the ABC affiliate in Tucson.

You see, I joined the station doing weekend weather while I was a grad student at the University of Arizona, earning my Masters in Journalism. It was a way in. Within six months I was hired as a full-time reporter, which was my real goal.

That was going along fine when one day the news director called me in and said our longtime producer with 20 years experience had suddenly quit to take a job at a station in Phoenix and he’d love it if I took over.

Pretty funny. I’d never produced a TV newscast in my life.

“Oh, John will train you!”

He did. My first newscast after he left Ronald Reagan was shot. This was March, 1981.

CNN signed on June 1, 1980. I couldn’t watch it because our local cable system didn’t carry it, but I could catch little CNN news briefs on TBS, which was also part of the Turner Broadcast System.

One of the first anchors CNN hired was Lou Waters, who was the news director/anchor at our cross-town rival in Tucson, KOLD. He brought along his producer, Faye, who happened to be a great friend of our main weather caster Linda Rhodes, who formerly worked at KOLD.

That October, Linda tells me Faye tipped her off that CNN was starting a new network and needed producers. Was I interested? Uh, sure. Hell, I had a “solid” six months of experience. I was ready for the network!

I called the number Faye provided to Linda who gave it to me and next thing I know I’m on a flight to Atlanta on a Sunday. I was interviewed by every living body including the president of CNN at the time, Reese Schonfeld. We hit it off because I told him I worked at a radio station in Fulton, New York right out of college and damn, that’s where his wife was from!

I fly back to Tucson that evening with no expectations of landing the job, but the next morning, Burt Reinhardt, the top money man at the network, and successor to Schonfeld as CNN president calls me and offers me the job. Show up on November 30th.

I did, but it things got off to a clumsy start. Having worked in Arizona where no one gets dressed, I show up in a button down shirt, corduroy jeans and very comfortable shoes. Everyone else is in suits, ties, dresses and smirks, directed at me.

My boss, Ted Kavanau, a news legend from NYC, smiles, takes me aside and  kindly mentioned, “as you can see we have a dress code.” Would have been nice to know in advance, but as I found out over the next 20 years, CNN was great at communicating news, just not important stuff to employees.

Ted told me to go over to the national assignment desk and ask one of the extremely busy people to explain how it worked.

I walk up to a bald guy with black-rimmed glasses and a beard and ask him the question. As he glares at my apparent insolence he barks, “you wanna know now the national desk works? Watch this!”

He then picks up the hotline to the DC bureau, starts screaming and swearing , then slams down the phone and quietly, but firmly, answers my original question with, “that’s how the fucking national desk works.”

When Ted asks me how it went I told him how my question was received. He kinda chuckled and said, “yeah, sounds about right.”

Welcome to network news.

I stayed at CNN2/Headline News for a little less than two years, producing hundreds of news casts in the most pressure-filled atmosphere you can imagine. Some producers actually broke down in tears under the pressure, others simply didn’t show up for work ever again.

In 1983 I was promoted to the main network to produce afternoon news casts, then promoted again to share producing the three hour morning show called Daybreak.

All this time, I would pick up a story here and there in hopes of moving back to reporting and by 1986 I was made a full time correspondent out of the Southeast Bureau based in Atlanta.

Here and there I would substitute anchor some newscasts and in 1989 the Detroit Bureau Chief/correspondent job opened. I tossed my tape into the ring and got the job. Been here in the Motor City ever since.

CNN dumped me and about 1,000 others during that “great” merger between parent company Time Warner and AOL in 2001, and closed the bureau.

We could have looked for work anywhere else in the country, but guess what, my family and I loved living in Michigan and I loved covering the auto industry.

Local TV wanted no part of me so I pursued print, because, let’s face it, I was never a TV star, but I could write. Best move I ever made.

It was funny, when I called someone at Ford for an interview while I freelanced for a short time at Automotive News.

“What? You write?” the guy at Ford asked. “TV guys can write?”

“Uh, yeah, I wrote every word that came out of my blow-dried head,” I replied.

“Heh,” he answered. “I thought producers wrote all that stuff for you guys.”

I had some great jobs in the print world. National Auto Writer at the AP, GM beat writer at The Detroit News, and in my semi-retirement, senior automotive contributor at Forbes.com.

But to come full circle, say what you want about what CNN has become, it opened a lot of doors for me when my time there ended there 25 years ago and still does.

The lesson I’d like to leave you all is don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Before I did the weather, I never did the weather, but I figured it out and succeeded. It led to dipping my feet into TV reporting. I sucked at first, but I received tough, but great direction from our photographers and news director.

I never produced a TV newscast but had a great teacher and got good enough to convince a network to hire me after only six months experience, and promoting me.

I never anchored a newscast when an executive at CNN saw something in me and gave me a chance. I solo anchored an hour network newscast with zero prior experience and it worked out, until the network president thought I looked a little too young. Tried to grow a beard, was too blonde..the lights washed it out.

When fate dealt me a blow I pivoted to print knowing I was a decent writer. Adjustments had to be made to transition from broadcast to print writing, but I was again lucky to have wonderful supervisors and editors to set me straight.

When I jumped to corporate PR at Chrysler, all the skills and news sense I had developed over the decades helped me succeed.

So if you’ve been laid off or otherwise “downsized,” just know you have skills that entirely transferrable and be willing to use them in different ways.

Take a chance, look beyond the obvious and usual. Not only will it help land a new gig, but it will open your life to new experiences and people and perspectives.

Most importantly, bet on yourself. The new stuff might seem challenging, scary, maybe even impossible, at first, but you know the chips in your stack.

Always, always, bet on yourself.

Refusing Role Call

I’m on Linkedin a lot to promote my Forbes.com stories and podcast, Tales From the Beat, so I see things. What I see are a ton of people who write they’re looking for “a new role.”

Of course these are unfortunate individuals who have found themselves suddenly payless because the thing they were doing to make a living was taken away from them due to firing, layoff, business failure or just bad luck.

It happened to me back in January, 2001 when I was laid off as part of the awesome merger between CNN parent company Time-Warner and AOL. I was the CNN Detroit bureau chief and correspondent at the time and was one of about 1,000 employees told to hit the road, thanks to the recommendations by an outside consultant.

So I’ve been there.

In my “role” as a father and husband I burned some of my generous severance to take my family on a vacation out to Arizona, then went to work…looking for work…a job.

The term “role” never entered my mind. I’m not an actor, although I act up some times. I actually was a speech and theater major in college until I realized I had no future as an actor because I couldn’t remember my lines. That’s one of the reasons I pivoted to broadcasting, because you get to read stuff instead of memorizing it.

But I’ve been thinking a lot about the wide use of the term “role” because, well, everyone has a role. Maybe you’re a partner, spouse, parent, mentor, individual pursuing life, support for a disabled person, confidante, conspirator. Those are all roles.

Folks, what you really need….is a job. It may not be as elegant a term as role, but it’s what you really seek.

You need a job because you don’t have one. You need a job because you need a source of income. You need a job because you enjoy working in your chosen field and it gives you pleasure, satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment.

Why do we need to use this word “role” to soften the message?

There is zero shame in admitting you need a job. There is no shame in admitting you need work. It’s what we all need unless you’re independently wealthy.  

Coming out loud and clear that you’re in the job market is actually a great message. It tells prospective employers you’re ready to work and don’t mince words. Yup, no screwing around. “I need a job. I’m right for your company because I have all the skills, great employment record, list of accomplishments. I’ve thoroughly researched your company, its goals, its culture, its accomplishments and I bring qualities that will add value to the operation.

You’re not looking to play a role, you’re not looking to play at all. You’re looking to do a job and do it well in exchange for money.

Actors who play roles have understudies to step in when they can’t come to work. In real life, we don’t have the convenience of someone being paid to wait around backstage to do our jobs in case we don’t show up.

In my entire working 52 year working life, I never once said, “gotta head off to my role now!” I’ve never undergone “on the role training.”

I went to work. I underwent on the job training.

There’s no reason to substitute some sugar-coated euphemism to soften the message.

Just say what you mean. Use honest words to find honest work. You’ll always have your life’s role.

Ghost in the Hell–A Workplace Horror Story

Unlike retail stores that show their Halloween stuff in July, I waited until now to conjure up a little verbal potion of apparitions that manifest themselves in the form of untalented and cowardly managers and executives.

You see, they don’t wait for All Hallow’s Eve to dress up as ghosts—they play the role all year long.

Just like all ineffective bosses are not alike, there are various methods employed by the bottom-feeders who would rather lurk as passive-aggressive cowards than have the courage to appear before their charges and reveal their actual frightening thoughts.

Ah..but isn’t Halloween all about fright? There’s a difference between being scary and not having the intestinal fortitude to scare up honest feedback.

Yes..it’s an exercise in the dark arts—keeping employees  in the dark about where they stand, the quality of their work, the chances of promotion or raise.

I’ve worked long enough to have been ghosted by several bosses. One day you’re in the “house,” having regular conversations and interplay with the person to whom you report. Then one day that house becomes haunted when that person metamorphosizes into a being never seen, never heard, acting as if you never existed.

You’re spooked.

The questions fly through your brain. Is the boss mad at me? Am I getting fired? What’s going on?

Then you make the mistake of approaching the body with no substance looking for answers. The replies you receive are as transparent as the ghost boss’s soul.

You can hear him or her now conjuring the lies they are about to tell you. Hovering over a cauldron of steaming bullshit, they stir it while chanting the ingredients they are adding.

“A gallon of lies! A dash of mis-direction! A pair of side eyes! A dollop of deceit!”

Then they serve it up expecting you to swallow…and believe.

That’s the time to politely explain you’re already up to here with crap and tender your notice.

When the dispirited spirit attempts to reverse your resolve, you turn to the empty vessel and calmly reply, “Not a fucking ghost of a chance.” 

Trick and retreat.

Simplifying Self-Help

Do you rely on so-called “self-help” books to improve whatever it is you want to improve? About eight years ago I wrote about why I don’t think much of them and my unexpected reply to a college student who asked me following a speech I gave, what self-help book I would recommend to improve relationships with co-workers. It’s in the blog post to which I’ve linked.

Lately I started thinking about self-help books again for a couple of reasons. For one, while in a book store, I noticed they’re not called “self-help” books anymore, but rather less obtuse categories such as “self-improvement” or “life-improvement.” 

Do those alternative categories soften the realization that one might need actual help in some area of their lives? If so, why is that necessary? There’s no shame in seeking help and we can all certainly stand to improve.

But it falls under a growing trend de-sensitize the truth. It sounds kinda harsh to say we need “help,” and clothing for larger folks is no longer labeled “plus sizes” but rather “comfort fit.” That’s fine. Self-esteem is important and I take no issue with attempts to help individuals feel better about themselves.

That leads to my main point. Self-help, or self-improvement, whichever you prefer, is much simpler than the myriad books and magazine articles make it seem. There’s no need to fill hundreds of pages with many thousands of words.

Self-help can be as simple as self-control. See? Two words.

Let’s take it further by drastically simplifying other subjects of bloated self-help books.

Marie Kondo has made a career with books and TV shows about organizing. I can boil organizing down to six words: “Throw things out. Put things away.” There. Simple.

How about leading a healthier life? So many millions of words blather on about this diet or that lifestyle. I’ll save you a lot of time with this word diet:

“Don’t eat crap. Get enough sleep. Get more exercise.”

Oh, I love the riot of rhetoric about how to get along better at work. This one is near and dear to me because I find workplaces can be one of the worst environments for spending the valuable time we have on Earth.

For this one I’m a little more expansive:

“Focus on your task. Be willing to listen more than speak at meetings. Don’t gossip. Ignore assholes. Office coffee is gross. Bring your own.”

I love the many books out there on how to negotiate—whether it’s a pay raise, business deal, price on a new car.

I’ll negotiate that issue thusly and succinctly:

“Know what you want. Know what you’ll accept. Don’t accept any less. Be willing to walk away.”

One of the more popular topics of self-help books is on relieving stress. I find plowing through hundreds of pages to find the answer is stressful, so I’ll pare it down to a less-stressful volume.

Big task ahead? “Break it down to its parts and complete one at a time rather than look at one big giant task ahead.”

Deadline? “No problem. When the deadline arrives you’re finished so you know you don’t have to live with the task beyond that. So stay focused, get it done, then relax.”

Bigger credit card bill than you can afford? “See what you can return. Pay it down over time. Learn the lesson and don’t do it again.”

See? I just boiled down five types of self-help books to a handful of words. Most of the help we need is not all that complicated and easy to understand if you don’t muck it up with pages and pages of blah, blah, blah.

Indeed, I’ll offer this brief self-help for would -be authors of future self-help books: “Keep it simple. Make it clear. Kill fewer trees.”

I’m telling you, we could shrink the self-help, or self-improvement, book store and library sections to maybe one shelf of single-sheets of concise advice.

It could work—so help me.

Retired For Six Years, It’s Time To Share The Beauty Of A Life Of Taking Chances Outside My Comfort Zone

Six years ago I swiped my Fiat Chrysler Automobiles badge for the last time, walked through the turnstile and extricated my Jeep Wrangler from the lowest level of the employee parking deck, drove home, poured myself a Jack Daniels on the rocks and told my wife I was now her slave for my remaining days.

I don’t think she was all that amused since I owned no particular skills that would benefit her aside from pushing a vacuum or unjustifiably killing spiders. But then again, I thought I could figure out whatever it is she wanted me to do in the future since I made a very nice living jumping into positions outside my comfort zone. I highly recommend it!

Here’s my long-ish story of a life totally enhanced simply by being willing to step outside my safe place—my comfort zone.

We can start with my very first shot at broadcasting. My brother and I used to make up fake radio shows using a music stand as a faux microphone and reading, singing (badly) popular songs using lyric sheets you could buy at the neighborhood candy store or newsstand. It was fun but I never thought of making it a career. Yet.

That changed when I entered college as a speech and theater major because I thought I could be an actor. Before I could audition for even one production, a month after arriving as a freshman, an upper classman decided I was funny and dragged me down to the campus radio station. He told the guy on the air at the time, “put my friend on the radio.”

He did. Gave me my own show. I was awful. I got better though and made the life-changing decision to pursue a broadcast career. That was pivot number one.

I worked in local radio in Central New York for a few years but that was a dead end. Pivot number two coming up. My wife and I decided we wanted to earn our Masters degrees, she in library science, me, in journalism because I loved news and to write and was better at it than making bad jokes as the goofy morning guy on the radio.

We planned well, quit our jobs, sold a lot of our stuff, put the rest on a moving van and hauled out to Tucson, Arizona to attend the University of Arizona and start new lives.

Single best move ever. She went to school full time, I went part-time and landed a radio job after a couple of days. It wasn’t because of my “talent.” The program director was intrigued that I typed my resume’ in blue instead of black.

“Who types in blue?” he asked. “I figured you had to be fun and different.” Whatever you say. I did morning drive until the program director quit and his replacement wanted my slot. I stayed for two more weeks.

Pivot number three. While I was working at the radio station I saw a notice on the wall in the UA journalism building the local ABC affiliate was looking for a weekend weather guy. Ha. Never did the weather, knew nothing about the weather, wanted the job.

I called the number, the news director granted me an audition and I took a couple of weather books from the library, cramming like it was finals to get just enough weather stuff in my head so I could fake it.

Worked out. Got the job. Now I was a weather guy…but I really wanted to be a reporter, so the assignment editor tossed some stories my way. One night the news director called me up and told me to meet him at a neighborhood bar in an hour. Over a couple of Olympias he told me one reporter quit and another got fired, so if I wanted a reporter job it was mine. I accepted without taking another sip.

It just gets better. About 18 months later our newscast producer with 20 years experience suddenly jumped to a station in Phoenix. News director calls me in. I’ll give you a six grand raise to ditch reporting and start producing.

I don’t know why he chose me but when you’re in the 82nd market six grand is a treasure so I took it. First night producing, President Reagan gets shot. The show didn’t crash. I didn’t get fired.

Six months later I get a tip CNN was starting a new network, what eventually became Headline News. Called the number I was given, flown out to Atlanta and got the job. They didn’t know I had only been producing newscasts for a few months but the boss liked my resume’ reel so I guess I fooled ’em.

Suddenly this green kid just in from Tucson is tossed into a 24-hour network newsroom tasked with producing big time broadcasts under massive time pressures and constantly changing conditions. Out of my comfort zone into an inferno. Didn’t get burned. Was promoted to the main network.

I still aspired to be a full-time reporter. Again, a sympathetic assignment editor came through, giving me stories during weekends. Bosses were happy. Gave me a full-time correspondent job out of the Southeast bureau based in Atlanta.

Ready for more? One day I see the anchor schedule on the bulletin board. I always looked there because I still produced occasionally and wanted to know who was anchoring my shows. Ha! I see my own name up there for the late night, west coast show. Well..I’d never anchored a full newscast in my life and now I was going to solo anchor a network show that included a live interview and audience call-ins.

So…okay! This comfort zone thing just seemed to have no boundaries. I guess I did well enough that they kept scheduling me to anchor. Until things changed again.

Not only did I prefer reporting but I aspired to be a bureau chief. I got wind the Detroit Bureau chief was being transferred overseas to Rome. I applied. Got it. Great job because you were both the BC and the correspondent and the team there was terrific.

All well and fine for the next 12 years until the disastrous merger between CNN and AOL. They ended up closing some small bureaus, including Detroit, laying off about 1,000 people. I was one of them.

Shit. Local stations wouldn’t hire me because I’m not really Mr. TV in terms of looks or flamboyance. Once local news director told me “not looking for journalists. We want street characters like you see in New York.”

Major comfort zone move. At the least I knew I was a good reporter and could write. Eternal thanks to Ed Lapham at Automotive News who made me a deal. He’d give me some stories to write on a freelance basis. If I passed the test, when a job opened I’d have a strong shot at it. Deal. Wrote a few, they like the stories, but there weren’t any available jobs.

Fair enough. The Associated Press chief of Detroit Bureau Charles Hill saw my resume on JournalismJobs.com. He needed a national auto write. We had a couple of lunches where he tried to figure out my real story and decide if an old TV guy could write for the wire. I didn’t enough know if I could write for the wire but boy, what an honor it would be to write for the AP knowing its reputation and exposure my stuff would get. I took a writing test and that, plus my performance at the lunches convinced him TV boy could do it.

Compared to a TV reporter package a wire story seems VERY LONG. So many words! I was allowed to use bigger ones too! But bless my editor Randy Berris who was extremely patient and instructive and turned me into a wire reporter.

Must have been OK. About 14 months after I started at the AP the auto editor at The Detroit News approached me about taking over the General Motors beat. I never worked at a newspaper but I was intrigued with the opportunity. During my interview lunch I mentioned that to the assistant managing editor. He said, “you write great stories. I’ll worry about how it actually gets into the paper.”

Suddenly I was a newspaper guy. I loved it—the opportunity to take a few days to work on and craft stories and build relationships. But three years later my comfort zone was challenged again.

I was approached about managing a new blog Jason Vines, the head of communications at then DaimlerChrysler was starting. This was 2005. Blogging was still fairly news and the term “social media” wasn’t yet in common use. Blackberrys were considered state of the art. Smartphones weren’t yet born.

Sure, why not? It was a big decision to jump from news to PR but this seemed like a chance to get in on an emerging communications mode and I had thought for a long time about working at one of the automakers I had covered for so many years.

I not only got to launch and manage Jason’s blog which was unlike any other. It wasn’t open to just anyone. He wanted to admit only “working media” so he could use the blog to comment on published stories and plant ideas for new stories. It was pretty controversial.

Of course I had zero experience blogging but again, out of the comfort zone and into the fire of cutting edge corporate communications. A year later things went so well, a new team was created around me because they never had anyone on staff before who had worked in virtually every corner of the media world. The new team was DaimlerChrysler Electronic Media. We later updated the name to Digital Media.

Our new team would handle broadcast media relations, the media website and social media. We soon added video production and pioneered the concept of “corporate journalism” creating owned media telling the company’s stories in a journalistic style.

I loved my team not only because they were good humans and talented and creative people but they were always game to try something new.

It’s with them I spent my final 11 years in the full-time workforce before retiring at the end of July, 2016.

Yes, this was a long story but one I hope convinces you to have the confidence in yourself and your skills to have the courage to jump out of your comfort zone in the event your current job suddenly ends or an unexpected opportunity presents itself that had never before been under consideration for you.

It can be scary to find yourself in a new work environment, expected to complete tasks with which you have scant, or no, experience, alongside co-workers with habits and sensitivities very different from those of your former colleagues.

But it’s also the most wonderful feeling in the world to discover your core skills and experiences are absolutely transferable opening doors to opportunities that will enrich your life and frankly, your finances.

Oh sure, I officially “retired” six years ago, but I can’t conceive of not continuing to create and learn, which is why I’ve taken on part-time freelance positions writing autos and mobility stories for Forbes.com and as an integrated media consultant for Franco.

I guess you could say working out of my comfort zone is completely within my comfort zone because the one thing I’m most comfortable with is growing. Try it. Yup..it’s a bit of a tightrope but you don’t need a net, because the only thing to fear is by not taking a risk you may miss the best opportunity you didn’t know you would love.

A Father’s Day, Juneteenth Tribute To Helping Each Other

It’s Father’s Day and Juneteenth. That unusual confluence has me thinking about a professional underground railroad of sorts that kept my father, mostly, employed, and my family with a very modest roof over its head and a lifelong appreciation for opportunity, kindness and in today’s terms, a damn good network.

My father grew up without, as he would say, two nickels to rub together. After serving in World War II where he was a decorated hero for capturing a house of 32 Germans, he used his aptitude for math to become a draftsman, then chemical engineer. He soon became well-known in the trade in the New York City area but that didn’t mean job security.

For most of his life he didn’t work directly for a firm, but rather as what was known back then as a “job shopper,” basically a freelancer. Competition was fierce for those jobs which paid well but last only as long as the project. The key was to land the next gig before the current one ended. To wait too long meant missing out on a limited number of openings.

Knowing that, my father and his most trusted fellow job shoppers formed their own secret network decades before the internet and sites like Linkedin changed the game.

We knew a job was near its end when our phone would start ringing more than usual in the evening and the calls were for my dad or he grabbed the phone and started dialing. The conversations were short and serious. The jobshopper network was deep in its mission, trading information on when projects were believed to be ending and where the next ones were starting and staffing.

It was a tenuous way to make a living. Sometimes the network’s information was a little off the mark or too late and spots were filled. While it served my father fairly well over the years, there was a time it didn’t and he was forced to sell air conditioners at Sears for a short time to earn a paycheck.

Oh, while on an engineering job, my father made good money but we never moved from our 440 square foot garden apartment in Queens. We’d go out to Long Island and march through model homes, my mother would fall in love with some and hopes were high we’d finally move to an actual “private house” as we called them back then.

Didn’t happen. My father was spooked by the poverty in which he grew up and the whole Sears salesman experience and feared another period when engineering jobs dried up, making it too risky to get tied up in a 30-year mortgage.

So we stayed in that apartment with its balky heat and crappy circuits that died when we attempted to use window air conditioning units in the heat of summer.

But the jobshoppers network kept at its work. My father never actually had a lull again, working steadily until he finally landed an on-roll position at an engineering firm for the final decade of his career, after a tip from the network.

Only after he retired and my brother and I were gone and married did he feel confident enough to buy a home in Florida where he and my mother enjoyed the final 20 years of their lives. In the end the jobshoppers network completed its mission.

So here’s the epilogue.

While I was in college and seeking summer employment the network showed it never forgot a favor. One of the members named Colin who had opened his own engineering firm called my father. He said, “Dick, you helped me all through my career and I want to repay you in some way. I know you’re not looking but maybe one of your sons needs a summer job. I have an opening for a clerk.”

It was a great job. Paid well and I learned a ton about how the piping in a nuclear power plant is created and how the plants operated.

The next summer I was in need of a job again. I went calling on Colin to see if he could use some help. At first he frowned, saying he now had a full time clerk and I thanked him for his time. Before I could leave his office he called after me.

“Ed! You start Monday! There’s plenty of work for two clerks and you did a good job last summer…besides, it’s the least I can do after all your dad did for me.”

A tribute to my wonderful dad…and his network. Always appreciate your father. Always cultivate your network.

Combo Mothers/Fathers Day Celebration of On the Job Lessons From My Snarky Parents

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are always a little tough because I lost both my parents nine months apart back in 2007. But what gets me through it many times is the fact they were both brilliant and hilarious and taught me many of life’s lessons. Since this will also show up on Linkedin, I thought I’d relate some of the valuable lessons they imparted to me about getting along at work. Hint: they vary between serious and, well, satisfyingly snarky.

Gertrude and Richard Garsten

From my Father: If your boss requires everyone to wear a tie, do so, but feign shortness of breath a few times a day to let the boss know the health risks involved in working all day with your neck in a noose.

From my Mother: Always look your best on the job. She always did, even when she volunteered as a lunch lady in our grade school. The payoff was an 8-year old gushing, “Mrs. Garsten, you look beautiful today!” The other lunch ladies would suddenly find an excuse to refill the napkin dispensers.

From my Father: If someone acts like a jerk, try to ignore it. But if they persist, you have to act. My father was a chemical engineer. Back in his day engineers worked in rows of drafting tables, and so, in close quarters with each other. He didn’t like it when one of the other engineers was disruptive, so he learned how to shoot rubberbands accurately at long distances. Many a workplace jerk suffered a welt from my father scoring a bullseye on the back of his head. Indeed, my father passed on to my brother and me his secret which I have used sparingly, but effectively, especially in movie theaters to neutralize a loudmouth in the audience.

From my Mother: Don’t be lazy! Early in her career my mother was a buyer at a big New York City department store. A high-pressure job. She despaired when she saw a co-worker just sitting around yakking or otherwise goldbricking. When I started my work life at age 9 at the local laundramat, I hated folding people’s underwear and other unmentionables, but my mother scolded me about being lazy and that no matter what a job entailed, you needed to do it because that’s why you were being paid. Considering I earned exactly one shiny quarter each day I worked, this turned out to be a motivational challenge, but the lesson always stayed with me because I worked in broadcasting which has roughly the same pay scale.

From my Father: If your boss is a moron…DO NOT SAY SO to his or her face. I worked for several morons over the years and never broke my father’s rule. Instead, I ignored idiotic directives and went about my business in what I thought were more sensible directions. The corollary to the rule was: don’t let the boss take credit for your good ideas! This may seem counter-intuitive to some who believe in the concept of “managing up.” However, if everyone else in the office knows the boss is a moron, they also know he/she could never have come up with a good idea and would know the boss attempted to steal the credit and you would look like a hapless doormat.

From my Mother: One of my mother’s favorite phrases when discussing a person attempting to stick you with a thankless task was “tell him to go shit in his hat!” She used an endearing baby voice when saying this, which took away some of its sting but still made its point. The one time I tried that my target kinda stammered before saying, “Um, I’m not wearing a hat.” That caused me to do a quick pivot to “Right. Then go fuck yourself.” The twin burns impressed my co-workers which came in handy when I was made the boss. But lesson learned from my mother, don’t let someone stick you with a crappy task.

From my Father: If you become the boss don’t be a wimp. He had been a boss on several jobs and his underlings feared him. In fact, when I worked a summer job at an engineering firm where many of my father’s former underlings were employed, I could hear whispers of “Be nice to the kid. He’s Dick Garsten’s kid and you don’t want him ratting on you.” At the same time, my father was much beloved because he was also respected for fairness, sense of humor and how much he truly cared for those who worked for him. I was never a tough guy boss. Just not in me, but I did use my father’s lessons in empathy and respect to win loyalty during the times I led a job or department.

I don’t know how either of my parents would have reacted to the social distancing we were stuck with during the Covid pandemic because they were both social, fun people who enjoyed close, interpersonal relationships. Besides, if someone acts like a jerk on Zoom, it’s damn near impossible to hit him with a rubber band.

Before I sort of retired in the summer of 2016 I had great careers in news and PR and am enjoying a scaled back version of both in my semi-retirement. I have my parents to thank for setting great examples of how to survive and thrive in the workplace through a combination of hard work, humor and a little bit of recalcitrance.

I miss ’em both every day and honor them regularly by eschewing the wearing of ties and silently instructing those who deserve it to go shit in their hats.

Don’t Just #WFH…Make the Most of That “H”

Been reconsidering the hashtag #wfh—“work from home” and it spark something my late, great father always told my brother and I when we were kids. “Whatever you choose as an occupation, don’t choose a job where every morning the first thing you say to yourself is, ‘oh shit.’”

Both of us heeded that admonition and ended up in careers for which we have passion, skills, satisfaction and enjoyment. Since retiring, sort of, four years ago, I’ve been doing a few freelance gigs, for the most part, yep, #WFH. Now, during the pandemic, it’s all #WFH.

But here’s the deal. #WFH isn’t enough. I’m a firm believer those three letters should mean more than simply working from home. You see, if you’re just working from home, it’s just work. So permit me to offer some additional suggestions—ones I’ve been practicing no matter where I happen to earn a paycheck.

Work From the Heart: Love what you do and everything seems a little easier. The results will be a lot more satisfying too.

Work From the Head: That softball size pile of gray matter in your noggin’ isn’t technically a muscle, but if you don’t exercise it the results are the same—it just doesn’t function as well. So allow yourself the luxury of giving your brain a challenging workout and watch the great ideas, more logical reasoning and personal enthusiasm take you into the zone where it all makes sense.

Work From Humor: Sure, we are all faced with tasks and situations…and pain in the ass co-workers that can stand in the way of a great workday. Filter it out with a little bit of humor to neutralize the tough stuff. A good laugh, even to yourself, is good for your heart and mind. Your work will turn out better too.

Work From Handling It: You’ve got this. You’re in this job because you have the skills and experience to do it. Regarding of where you are physically, you should go into every task with the confidence you’ll succeed.

Work From Hell Yes!: I once had a boss with a thick accent and quite often had no idea what he was asking me to do. At first I’d say “could you please repeat that?” Well, that pissed him off. So I got in the habit of always saying “sure!” Then I’d run the conversation over and over again in my mind to see if I could divine exactly what my orders were. More often that not, my positive attitude carried the day and the boss was satisfied. Don’t get me wrong. It makes sense to be clear on your marching orders, but sometime just telling yourself “yes!” puts the rest of your mind and body in the right place to do succeed.

So there you go. #WFH all you like. It doesn’t just have to only mean “work from home.” That just happens to be where you’re sitting. Working from different mental and physical venues can keep you from waking every morning, thinking “oh shit.” In fact, you’ll feel better traveling that mental journey from “H” and back.

Sorry, Brooks Brothers. The ‘Uniform’ is History–My Tale of Sartorial Revenge

This is me in my closet with the dozen suits and sport coats that helped create “the uniform.” Remember, all the way back to February or January, before the pandemic hit and people still schlepped into the office wearing this stuff? Since semi-retiring four years ago, my uniform pretty much has been put out to pasture except to infrequent forays to business meetings or funerals.

Oh, they served me well over the years. Especially the one Brooks Brothers suit I splurged on when I was still a TV reporter. It pains me that BB, like other men’s clothing chains is going bankrupt, because, in the era of Zoom meetings, we not only don’t wear the uniform, we barely wear pants.

I have a lot of ties. See them whipping around on the little merry go round in my closet? Some, I’ve never actually worn. They are instruments of torture but pre-pandemic, they represented an often-compulsory punishment to our respiratory system in the name of adhering to a “dress code.”


Ah…the dress code. I also kinda got that wrong. When I joined CNN in 1981 I had come from a TV station in Tucson, Arizona where I was producing newscasts. Since I wasn’t on the air, I could dress like shit. I was joining CNN in a similar capacity and assumed “dressing like shit” was the dress code there too. On my first day I showed up in corduroy jeans, a buttoned-down sport shirt and scruffy shoes. I made an instant first impression because everyone else was wearing “the uniform.” My boss, who wore his own version of the uniform, featuring a crumpled white shirt and suspenders, kindly took me aside, smiled and informed me “we kinda have a dress code here.” Would have been nice to know in advance but with most of my wardrobe back in Arizona, I had to do some fast shopping.

Many years later it worked the other way. When I made the jump from journalism to corporate communications at then DaimlerChrysler, which is now Fiat Chrysler Automobiles, I show up the first day in a pressed blue suit, white shirt and red tie. Damn! Missed again! Sure, there were a couple of guys with a shirt and tie and sport coat hanging on hooks, but I looked more like one of the German taskmasters looking to take over the company.

A couple of years later, the company was sold by the Germans to a U.S. capital management slumlord company from New York City. They all dressed up while they fired a large percentage of our staff as the company headed towards bankruptcy. I suppose it’s appropriate for the executioner to at least show some respect for the condemned by throwing on a decent tie.

It all changed again when the late, great Sergio Marchionne and Fiat took over the company. He never work a tie and rarely a jacket. His uniform was a black sweater or golf shirt, depending on the season and dark pants. He once explained it made his busy life less complicated by not burdening himself with daily wardrobe decisions.

From then on we felt we had permission to dress down a bit, but didn’t take it to extremes. I may not have always worn a tie but at least had a jacket handy in case we had an important meeting. I’d wear it into the office, then immediately take it off and hang it up until it was needed, or it was time to go home. You could always tell who the visitors were in the building–they were the suckers who were wearing suits and ties.

In my semi-retirement I’ve been working from home since I walked out of FCA for the last time on July 28, 2016, so there was basically no adjustment for me when the pandemic hit. I don’t mind Zoom or Google Meet meetings, and the only concession I make sartorially is wearing a decent shirt, but don’t ask me what’s covering my lower regions. To put your mind at ease, it’s, um, something, but I assure you it’s not the pants from that abandoned Brooks Brothers suit, nor is it a pair of pressed Dockers. It’s just something, okay?

Once this is all over and we’re compelled to meet in person again, I’m not so sure many folks will revert to a version of the uniform, having gotten used to being dressed more comfortably, and probably less expensively.

I do feel sorry for the abandonment my old work wardrobe must be experiencing. That’s why every once in awhile, I’ll go to the section of my closet where they suits and jackets and pants are hanging, thank ’em for their service, then hit the switch, watch the ties go round and round and round and round, hoping those now-useless instruments of torture are starting to feel a little nauseous. Payback is sweet.

Why You May Never Want To Return To The Office

eddesk0321It’s been almost four years since I walked out of my last full-time job a free man into what’s become semi-retirement and a life of doing what little work I do, in my home office.

I want to warn many of you who are now working from home because of the coronavirus pandemic…you may not want to return to your offices.

Before I retired in 2016 I worked from my own glass-enclosed, private office. I didn’t like it, but in the idiotic way some corporations operate, your workspace reflected your “band level” AKA, if you’re standing in the payroll/title hierarchy. When I got promoted to a level that “awarded” you an enclosed office, I asked to remain in my spacious, but open, workspace because such perks seemed stupid and also cut me off from my team. I asked if I had committed a felony, warranting my confinement to a 12×12 cell. HR said if I didn’t move it would “send the wrong message.” Company politics being what it is, several people were actually jealous of me and said nasty stuff about me, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

I spent my final three years before retirement in that office and hated every minute of it. So I would constantly get up, walk around, touch base in person with my teammates. When another glass office denizen would pop by congratulating me on “finally getting the glass office you deserve,” I thanked them and expressed my anticipation of one day being paroled, which in all their shallowness, they did not understand at all.

Now that I’ve been working from home in my very comfortable workspace..I don’t call it an office..I get more done in a day than what I accomplished in my old office in a week. For one, there are none of the dreaded “got a minute” drop-bys. You know how that goes. “Got a minute,” really means I’m bored and I’d like to waste as much of your time as possible to avoid going back to my desk and doing actual work. Many minutes later your plan for the day is blown so you may as well get up, get some coffee, take a walk, or retreat into a zen state in order to purge yourself of thoughts of committing that felony.

One day, in answer to “got a minute?” I replied that I didn’t. No problem. The annoying inquirer had his rejoinder locked and loaded. “Oh..it’ll take less than that!” Bullshit. Sigh.

Other aspects of the office life I don’t miss are random comments you can’t unhear even  with a closed door. Examples include: “This fuckin’ printer doesn’t work!,” “This coffee tastes like burnt jerky!” “Bob sucks!” “Just like you,” “The boss has his head up his ass,” “I wish 5 o’clock came at noon.”

Then there are the endless meeting invites. When you work remotely, you can call in, put your phone on mute, do other, more productive, things while someone blathers and then chime in when appropriate or called upon. You can also make faces as an immature, but satisfying demonstration of your opinion of the proceedings.

I do enjoy popping into the office about once a week for an hour or two at one of my fun freelance gigs. Great people who are fun, smart and talented. We see enough of each other to cement our bonds, I appreciate the chance to get to know the staff on a more personal level and they quickly understand I have what I would describe as a “very limited” wardrobe with some items probably older than many of my colleagues. 

Then I hit the freeway for the 25 mile drive home, and retreat to my cozy, personal workspace where the only ambient conversations I may hear are “Dinner’s burning!” or “The Jones’s schnauzer shit on our lawn again!” It’s so suburban. So natural. Then I get back to work, unimpeded, un-interrupted until my wife ventures down to my subterranean refuge, stops at the door and asks, “got a minute?”