I know one of the things that makes life a horserace is the fact friends can sometimes have differing opinions. God knows there's only a scant few who aren't fed up with me talking about Springsteen, Breaking Bad, sushi and Vegas as much as I do. I know it, you know it and the American people know it. Yet, I love those friends anyway. I have no choice—it's right there in small print on the friendship contract.
And, because I'm also passionate about certain points of view, I completely understand someone wanting me to see things their way. Often times, after giving it some thought or reflection, I will. I'll eventually come around to their thinking.
I'm nothing if not open-minded.
There are usually two approaches people take when asking me to change my mind about something. One is objectively giving me the facts to consider, and then allowing me to consider them. The other is bludgeoning me with their opinion, especially if they know I may not be entirely on board with it, and then continuing to bludgeon me when I don't immediately come around to their point of view.
Here's which way works better for me: Spoiler Alert: it's the first one.
There's someone I've followed regularly for a long time. I get a lot of good out of their teachings, and they've helped me view the world in a more compassionate, less fearful, more confident way. But recently I've had cause to question their character, and whether I should continue investing time in them.
Here's my process. First, I consider the context of events. I listen to both sides. I take into account the good I've gotten out of it until this point. Then, I make a decision.
What I require is a little patience from the person arguing the other point of view.
And the understanding that mocking, condescending and badgering comments—because I don't instantly agree with them—make it less interesting to give their argument the consideration they'd like me to.
And that I'd like to. Because I'm nothing if not a giver.
All the continual bombardment does is crowd the field. It makes me focus on the diversion and attitude, not the topic at hand. It does not make the argument they think they're making.
I get we're in a time when passions run high, feet get dug in, lines get drawn and everything is black and white. Gray area? That's just crazy talk.
Listen, I'm not a delicate little flower, and if you're my friend and you want to rant and rave at me, have at it. I'm a big boy and I can take it. But if you want me to take it seriously, here's some free advice: there's a better approach.
In theory, Facebook is a good thing. I can find people I've lost touch with, catch up with celebrities and even talk to them if it’s really them posting on their page. I can follow my favorite brands for discounts and special offers, view endless vacation photos, baby pictures, inspirational sayings, favorite musician YouTube clips and German Shepherd pictures (which I personally can’t get enough of) that friends feel compelled to share with the world. It can be a fun, informative, time-killing app if used correctly.
Where it comes undone for me is the preaching, guiltifying, lecturing and cage-match quality bickering some people feel compelled to administer in the course of my Facebook feed.
I stopped getting into Facebook fights a long time ago. In fact, the post I wrote here almost five years ago was the last time I remember really losing any semblance of control, and continuing an online argument for no reason other than to hammer my point home to someone who was never going to hear it.
Oh, wait a minute. There was another time in the recent past I got into it online with a writer/director/voice-over talent/creative director/agency-owner friend I've known over thirty years. I had no idea about his extreme right wing political beliefs, but all it took to find out about them was posting something favorable about Obama and not so flattering about the way he was being treated by the Republican congress. You know, something factual he didn't want to hear.
What can you do. Some people walk around loaded for bear.
Anyway, after a certain number of back and forth posts, there comes a point in any Facebook argument where it becomes less about the topic at hand and more about energy and endurance. It forces me to ask the tough questions, like how bad do you want it kid? Will it all be worth it in the end (if it ever ends)? Am I willing to go the distance?
What I've discovered about myself, when it comes to Facebook fights, is that I am not.
I put up a post today about the general blahs of being back at work after a holiday weekend. To my way of thinking, not very controversial. I’m pretty sure it’s a universal feeling that after a three-day weekend, no one—regardless of what industry they're in—wants to be back at work after enjoying time off. AmIright?
I got some comments agreeing, and a few likes, but I also got a comment that said, “You’re booked. You should be grateful.”
Let’s disassemble that comment, shall we?
First of all, my post was a little joke, based on a universal truth. And by the way, jokes are so much funnier when you have to explain them aren’t they?
Next, does the fact I made a joke about not wanting to be at work exclude me from being grateful to have the gig? I think not.
And while I’m on the subject, I actually don’t need people telling me what to feel and when to feel that way. I don’t accept that from strangers, I didn't accept it from my high school girlfriend and I’m certainly not going to take it from friends (well, Facebook friends, not real life friends).
I’m not saying people shouldn’t put up how they feel about things. It's a free country, free speech, your right and all that. And I recognize that by posting anything, and being a part of the Facebook community, I leave myself open to whatever comments anyone with a keyboard and access to my feed wants to make.
But, like in a nice restaurant, 90% of the game is presentation. It'd be better—and, even though it might not sway me, it'd probably make me more receptive to hear their point of view—if people commenting on my posts framed it in a way that expressed their opinion without condemning me for not sharing it.
And by the way, this idea I should or shouldn't do or feel a certain way just doesn't fly. Not a big fan of the word "should"—people "should" know better than to use it with that hand-on-hip, reprimanding, wagging-your-finger tone.
To me, it's just as frustrating and insulting as people who ask you to copy and repost what they’ve posted for one hour to prove to them you’re against cancer, bullying, parting your hair on the right or whatever. I’ve written here about how I feel about those people (“What do you mean ‘those people’” “What do you mean ‘Those people’?” - see below). How much validation does one individual need?
Besides, if you're looking for it from Facebook posts, you have bigger issues than whether or not people share your point of view.
I know you all won't agree with me, but if you do copy and paste this post on your page for one hour.
If you haven't seen Star Wars Vll yet there are some SPOILERS here. Warned you have been.
Here's the thing: I've been to Comic Con the last eight years. I've slept out on the cold, wet grass with 6500 of my closest friends waiting in line for Hall H while looking across the street at my empty $300 a night hotel room. I've fought the crowds, seen the panels and been thrilled by exclusive footage that's available online seconds after it's shown. My pop culture/geek/nerd credentials are firmly intact, and I have the badges to prove it.
Having said that, I don't feel I'm under any obligation to fall lockstep in line with everyone who's gushing over the new Star Wars. For the record, I liked it. Didn't love it, but liked it.
I know this will be a hard landing for hardcore fans, and I'm sorry you have to find out this way, but it's not a perfect film.
People who don't have the energy to come out of their basements somehow seem to muster enough to relentlessly tell me why I'm wrong in my opinion. Even though it's my opinion. And even though I'm right in my facts and critique.
Anyway, the fact I'm not worshipping at the Star Wars altar shouldn't take anything away from your enjoyment of the film. Or maybe I have some unseen power, some ancient, mystical ability if you will where I can use my mind to exert my will over you that lets me crush your pleasure at seeing the movie. But I doubt it.
Have at it. Enjoy all fifteen times you're going to see it. I want you to. I'll still ask why Kylo Ren assigns only one Stormtrooper to guard Rey, the most valuable prisoner ever. Or why Finn, having never held a light saber, is suddenly able to hold his own against the dark side of the force in a light saber battle with Kylo Ren. Or why Kylo Ren didn't just "force" him into oblivion without working up a sweat. Or if Kylo Ren is leader of the Knights of Ren, why there are no other Knights of Ren in the movie? Or about 37 other questions you're free to ignore.
I love J.J. Abrams, and I liked Star Wars Vll. It's a fun, nostalgic, visually great popcorn movie with great new characters, one breakout new star and a fairly perfect ending. I'm sure I'll see it again. And if it makes you happy, I'll wait in line with you for Star Wars Vlll, but not for the whole three weeks.
But for the love of Lucas, stop arguing with me about it. I'm not trying to change your mind, I'm just letting you know what I think. No matter how many times you come back at me, I'm not going to see it your way.
And, despite whatever new hope you have, you can't force me.
Since when did companies become clingy, needy little entities clamoring for approval of every interaction you have with them?
Oh right. Since social media.
Inevitably, every restaurant I eat at is waiting with a survey for me to take to rate them. And, to entice me into doing it, I also get a chance to win a $25 gift certificate! They explain it, circle the website on my receipt, and make it sound like my customer transactional obligations don’t end at paying my bill.
They want me to engage.
At least they don’t flame my inbox the way car dealerships, online merchants and even my doctors’ office does. After every single contact with any of them, invariably the next day in my email is a survey asking me to rate the experience - no matter how miniscule or insignificant it may be.
Look, I’m happy to tell companies what I think. If the service, product, meal or whatever has been spectacular, I’m the first one to sing their praises on Yelp. Conversely, if it’s been awful, then the CEO, President and a few board members of the holding company will get what’s affectionately come to be known as a Jeff Letter, telling them what went wrong and asking them to make it right (Jeff letters have proven to be an extremely effective way to get results – and no, I’m not writing one for you).
This Sally Field-ing (“You like me! You really like me!”) of the American corporation has to stop. If I want them to know about my experience I'll tell them. But for the love of God and all things holy, stop asking me at every turn.
I used to go out with this girl who’d ask me every time there was more than a five second gap in the conversation “What’re you thinking?” What I was thinking was I wish she'd stop asking me that question every five seconds.
This is all driven by the popularity contest that is social media. A platform for instant feedback, now companies have a way of inviting you to "Like" them on Facebook ("You like me!). The more followers, the better the company. Allegedly.
I hear Kleenex and Tide are tied at 8 followers each.
Anyway, that’s it for now. If you wouldn’t mind, please take a few minutes to rate your experience reading this post. Your comments will be used to help improve the quality and subject matter of future posts.
Just messing with you. No matter what you say, this is as good as it gets.
When you work in the insurance business, you don't get to have an opinion about whether the claim form is filled out correctly - it either is or it isn't. If you're fixing cars, no one's looking for an opinion about the intricacies and meaning of the repair - it's either fixed or it's not. In the case of the Saab 900 I used to own, it was not. Whole other story.
In advertising, the lines are more blurred when it comes to the work. There's room for opinions. And, as anyone on the creative side of the business will tell you, everyone has one.
One of the unspoken agreements when you work at an agency is the expectation you're going to be a company man, an advocate of the work regardless of its merits, good or bad, subtle or crass, exploitative or not. And if you're a stakeholder in the work - a writer, art director or producer - the agreement isn't that unspoken. Of course you're going to defend your work.
Here's the thing though. If you're going to work in this business, you have to put on your big boy pants and realize that there are going to be lots of opinions about the work, and they're not all going to agree with yours.
Case in point: the recent McDonald's "Signs" commercial. I already told you what I think of it here. Over 20 years ago I worked on McDonald's, but their advertising has changed several times over the years. And the fact that I got paid to work on it a very long time ago didn't buy them a promise I'd love everything they do forever and ever.
No one sets out to do a crass, exploitative, manipulative, cynical spot on purpose. At least I hope they don't. But even if you're a stakeholder, you have to realize the world is not having their checks signed by the same people you are. There'll be different opinions.
It's the price of admission to work in this business.
So it really comes down to two choices. You can let opinions that don't agree with yours roll off your back.
Or you can gear up and spend a lot of energy fighting each and every one like they're a kitchen grease fire that needs to be put out.
Which would be a complete waste of time. Not unlike that McDonald's spot.
I don't expect nor would I want everyone to agree with me on everything. But it does strike me odd when people disagree with me over nothing.
Here's the thing about social media: You have to be willing to suffer the slings and arrows of people who don't like what you're saying, posting or advocating.
Everyone has an opinion. And we know what opinions are like.
Nevertheless, I understand having a forum where everyone sees what you post is the price of admission for being able to post it. I get it.
I've never been thin skinned. After all, I'm in advertising. I have a superhuman tolerance for rejection of things I think are funny.
Plus I'm all over the interwebs with my little musings, things that strike me funny just because they do. Once in awhile they mean something more than face value. But most of the time they don't.
Yet for some reason, some people who should know better (was that a judgement? Sorry, you know how I hate that) make the decision to run their blood pressure up forty points, start calling me names and get all medieval on my ass for posting meaningless things.
Meaningless to me anyway.
The thing about it is, there's no hidden agenda to postings that just strike my funny bone. No political statement being made. Not even a lot to get angry about (another judgement, sorry about that).
But like ghosts, UFOs and truth on FOX News, sometimes people see things that aren't there. They start frothing at the mouth, hurling judgments about me, my work, my humor or my political leanings (BTW, I'm for whichever party likes bacon) based on something I just thought was funny.
They attach meaning where there is none.
Whatever. If you believe you're the arbiter of my taste, capabilities and standards, and if you see some deeper message in the crystals and think you're fighting the good fight by judging my talent, intellect, sensibilities and unloading on me with lots of exclamation points, have at it.
Or even better, be a little discerning, realize it's not worth the effort, say "There he goes again" to yourself, roll your eyes and move on.
It's not that I don't stand by what I post. I do. I stand by it and laugh.
