Starstruck

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JayBaerFrom what I’ve heard, even the most popular movie stars turn bashful when they meet somebody whose work they admire. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself after sharing a silent flight with one of my own industry celebs.

I was boarding my flight in Chicago bound for Social Media Marketing World in San Diego, so I knew there was a pretty good chance that somebody on that flight was headed to the same destination. As I approached my cabin, there he was in the front row with his trendy black glasses and striped socks. I knew it was Jay Baer and I wanted soooo badly to let him know how much I was looking forward to hearing him speak the following day. As fortune would have it, the line halted and I was directly in front of him for a good 90 seconds. I whispered a few introductions in my head and they all sounded like stuttering gibberish, so I proceeded to my seat.

Kicking myself from the epic fail, I chose to share my experience with my Twitter followers, who I knew would understand the magnitude of my shame:

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Jessica Tiede @tiedejess Apr 7
Pretty sure I’m on a flight with @jaybaer but I’m too dorky to say hi. #smmw13

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I waited for a little empathy, but instead received the following in return:

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Austin Rogerson @austinrogerson 7 Apr
Make moves #jealousofyou “@tiedejess: Pretty sure I’m on a flight with @jaybaer but I’m too dorky to say hi. #smmw13”

MonikaRun @monikarun 7 Apr
@tiedejess @jaybaer ha! I love that you will tweet that, but won’t say hi in person. The joys of social media. #smmw13

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Did I just get called out for being lame?! Oh yeah, I got called out alright. Not cool. I needed to turn this day or ship or plane around and not let that happen again. I vowed to throw that shy girl back into my luggage and get my social on for the next three days. Couldn’t be happier that I did.

That night at the first networking event of the week, I introduced myself to more than a few social celebs, Jay Baer included. We talked, we drank, we danced…okay, maybe we just shook hands and I snagged a photo…but I overcame the bashful and was happier for it.

The silliness of it all is certainly not lost on me. I realize that these are just people with great ideas doing what I do, but doing it better and probably having done it longer than me. Doesn’t mean that there isn’t possibly maybe perhaps just one person out there who thinks I’m that cool too. Is there somebody out there who thinks I’m that cool? Don’t be shy now…speak up! Just kidding. Not really.

My second favorite thing about these three amazing days was knowing that I had made new friends and mentors who I could actually tap on the virtual shoulder and ask questions. Experts in the vast world of social media are willing to share what they know and spread the word. They are approachable and they are teachers.

My first favorite thing about these amazing three days was the tweet I received on the second day:

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Jay Baer @jaybaer 8 Apr
@tiedejess Drinks on me next plane!

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#boom

Build communities, build yourself

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photoLast summer, I was fortunate to attend a Socialmedia.org conference in Chicago. It’s is an exclusive community of social media thought leaders who are enthusiastic about sharing their own experiences and best practices with members of the organization. I love any opportunity for a conference in Chicago — home to amazing hot dogs, pizza, Navy Pier, pizza, the Cubs, pizza, museums, pizza and more. See where this is going? Fortunately, I was traveling with a colleague who was smart enough to suggest that we consult Yelp to make our culinary decision. It led us to Pizano’s and the rest is eat-until-you’re-miserable history. I still dream about that pie.

If you travel, Yelp is a necessity. Last year I used it in Salt Lake City, Chicago, Princeton, Indianapolis, San Francisco and Miami. So, when I arrived at this month’s Social Media Breakfast (SMB) Madison meeting with speaker Corey Dane of Yelp Madison, I was expecting to hear what I already knew about one of my favorite apps. Boy, was I wrong!

Corey reminded me that Yelp is not merely an app for travel and it’s much more than a means to quiet my growling belly. Yelp is a fantastic way to support your local fare by finding that lesser-known cafe or dive bar and then writing a review about the best burger to ever cross your lips. Or to inform fellow hotel guests that they can exchange their floral scented hotel shampoo for an unscented version. Maybe you want to rave about the spa that offers wine with your pedicure. Yelp sponsors offline events for its most loyal contributors and grants them with “elite” status. It encourages you to stand behind your reviews with accurate profiles and personal photos. Yelp builds communities.

While Corey highlighted three main keys to success in building a loyal community for your business, I couldn’t help but notice the parallels to success in building your own personal and/or professional success. These notions to 1) Get Personal, 2) Forge Connections and 3) Embrace Fun are undoubtedly why companies like Starbucks have built strong communities while spending little money on advertising. They seem so simple and yet the impact of applying them can be tremendous.

What do you think might happen if you tried applying those same notions in other areas of your life? Where do you begin? For starters, you need to work hard, cultivate relationships, surround yourself with positive people, celebrate people from all walks of life, don’t be afraid to laugh out loud. According to Corey, “Success = Time + Passion.” Great tips from a guy who knows a lot of about building communities…and the best places to eat in Madison.

13.1 x 5 digital resources

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walk

Triumph after a long walk. Here’s looking toward a victorious run!

Rule of thumb: Don’t post anything on Twitter that isn’t for public consumption. It wasn’t technically a secret, but I hadn’t really started telling many of my friends and colleagues. Now if I had posted it on Facebook, that’s a different story — there are definitely no secrets on Facebook and we all know it. But a couple of Twitter shout-outs here and there have officially let the cat out of the bag…I am training for my first half marathon.

People run marathons all of the time, so this is not front page news . But I am not a runner. I bike. I hike. I kayak. I do not run. The idea came to me a few months ago while lamenting a milestone birthday that is approaching in April. I need to turn back time in a non-Benjamin Button type of way. How about run a marathon? Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Half a marathon? Maybe. And so began my Google search for gadgets, online support, and mobile running apps.

  1. My first stop was Digital Running Club. I don’t know who these people are, but they know their stuff. I printed out their training program and started tweeting them for encouragement and advice. They never fail to reply, even when I accuse them of trying to kill me.
  2. Accountability is huge when you set any type of goal, so I brought the @MadisonMarathon Twitter team into the mix and proclaimed my intent to run the Madison Half Marathon on Memorial Day weekend 2013. Now they are expecting me to show up and I will be there.
  3. I also used my new aspiration as an excuse to buy myself a FitBit. Do you have one of these? They are way too much fun. It tracks my steps, the number of floors I climb, my calories burned and it syncs with MyFitnessPal.com to monitor my food intake and nutritional requirements. It will even monitor my sleeping efficiency by telling me how many times I woke up throughout a night.
  4. I’m still searching for a great mobile app that I can use for that day when the ice melts and I can leave the treadmill behind in favor of the streets. I’m looking for an app that will regularly speak to me and tell me how far and how fast I’ve traveled. An occasional “Lookin’ good, hot stuff!” would also be welcome. Shoot me some ideas!
  5. There are so many wonderful resources online for starting any new hobby. I have tapped into the expertise of RunningDivaMom about problems like running boredom…something I struggle with on a regular basis. Her inspirational posts keep me moving even when I’d rather stop.

These resources are great, but nothing can do the work for me. I’m almost halfway through my training program and I’ve endured both a hip injury and back pain that set me back at least a week for each. Now my body is adjusting and things are looking up. Remember that accountability issue? Well, now that I’ve truly gone public there is only one thing left to do. I’ve gotta run!

Lessons from a woman and her tools

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remodelI’m talking about real tools here. Man tools. There is an immediate rush of authority when you put your hands around a tool and with the push of a button realize that you could literally lose a limb if you slip. Sounds a little sadistic, but it’s actually very empowering for a woman whose previous power tool experience was limited to the dust buster and a steamer vac.

I got an early jump on two New Year’s Resolutions this year — remodel the bathroom and learn something new. Got my money’s worth out of that second one as I actually learned a few things about tools, men and anatomy.

1) Men keep us out of the garage because they don’t want us to know how fun it is to play with tools! The stiff backs and the sore knees are just a ruse to earn sympathy and a cold beer at the day’s end.

2) Don’t tell your Facebook friends that you need an “axe” to start demolition. It’s called a sledgehammer.

3) It’s not cool to get caught washing the crowbar with dish soap and hot water. No matter how sticky and gross it is, let it be.

4) While not very creative, the Sawzall is the most aptly named tool in the shed.

5) There is a muscle in your arm called the flexi carpi ulnaris. After swinging a hammer at wall and floor tile for several hours, this muscle gets very angry.

The bathroom demolition is now complete and the rebuilding has begun. As much as I enjoyed my day letting off steam by busting through old pink tiles, my manicure is a mess. I’ve decided to leave the drywall hanging and plumbing to my husband. I’ll be back when it’s time to choose a paint color and provide direction about where to hang the towel bar. That’s right, I’m a Foreman. On second thought, make that a Forewoman.

The politics of voting

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The White House, as perceived by my childhood self.

When I was in elementary school, we always held “mock elections” on November 6 as a teaching opportunity to learn about democracy and the process by which our country selects its own leader. Every Election Night, we piled into the red Mercury Zephyr and drove out to the Koshkonong Town Hall so that my parents could exercise their right to vote. My brother and I were usually asked to wait in the station wagon for what seemed like hours.  I was fascinated by the volume of people streaming in and out of this tiny building that I was truly convinced was the White House. Then again, I also thought that our Catholic priest, Father Endres, was the Pope…so I may have been a bit out of touch with reality.

The thing that drove me truly insane is that my parents would NEVER tell us how they voted. I didn’t understand it at all. Why wouldn’t they tell me? What was the big deal? Didn’t they trust me? Were they ashamed of their choice?

Then that crazy ironic role reversal happened in my very own home last night when my six-year-old son asked me how I voted in the election. This was shortly after he informed me who he had voted for during mock elections. I inquired about how he made this important decision. His answer was mixed: Sam voted for this guy too; He had an American flag in the photo behind him; and he was the “most handsomest” candidate.

It was at this point that I finally understood why my parents spent so many years torturing me with the mystery of their political affiliation. I explained to Noah that there are two main reasons why I was not going to tell him how I voted:

1) I never want his vote to be influenced by how his mommy and daddy vote. He needs to form his own opinions and choose the candidate he believes can best lead our country.

2) There’s a chance that Noah will tell Sam how we voted and then Sam will tell his parents how the Tiedes voted. Maybe Sam’s parents didn’t vote for the same candidate and now they think less of us because of our decision. I explained to Noah that this is completely unfair and you should never judge somebody based on their voting choices, but unfortunately it happens quite often in today’s society. If Noah were on Facebook, it wouldn’t take 5 minutes for him to learn this lesson for himself. It’s probably even unfair of me to assume that Sam’s parents might judge us based on our vote, but I’ve seen it happen time and time again between friends, neighbors and family members.

Today is November 7, 2012 and the people of this fine country have decided who will lead us for the next four years. You may be crying tears of joy or tears of sorrow. But don’t spit in the face of those who don’t share in either your celebration or your grief. We are Americans and we are free. Be thankful and be kind to each other.

A lesson in Pokémon

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Noah’s homemade Pokémon cards.

My son is six years old and last week he developed a fascination for Pokémon trading cards. It came out of nowhere for us. Since the first day of school, our dinner conversations have revolved around Ninjago and Beyblade®. I know that Pokémon has been around for 15+ years, but I’ve just never understood the appeal. Have you seen these characters?! They look like a science project gone incredibly wrong…disgusting little alien bug monsters with names like Metachomp and Spineboil. Don’t trade your cards, kiddos, just give them away and never look back!

With a little influence from a group of kids at school, Noah decided that Pokémon was the key to recess entertainment. He had no cards to trade, however, and he never asked us to buy him a pack of cards. Instead, he sat down one night and started making his own Pokémon trading cards. He meticulously cut out rectangles of cardstock paper and he drew ugly creatures on each and every card. He gave them all names and assigned them each a super power. He made 37 cards! The next day, Noah came home from school and tearfully told his daddy that nobody wanted to trade with his homemade cards. In fact, the other kids called his cards “fake” and “stupid.” He was crushed, but I was truly annihilated as my heart broke for him.

Yesterday morning the mailman delivered 50 perfectly branded Pokémon cards, courtesy of my husband and a $7.00 eBay shopping spree. The cards went out to dinner with us last night. They were carefully placed on Noah’s headboard before bed. They almost went to church with us this morning. They’ve been sorted and counted and admired more than my Coach purse. Tomorrow they will make their first-grade recess debut.

What about the 37 homemade cards? Those will be stored away in Noah’s keepsake box and one day I will tell him the story of a little boy with creativity for miles and I hope he will be just as proud of those homemade cards as he was last week. Should we have bought him branded cards to make up for his disappointment? I have no frickin’ idea. Do I care? Not really.

Is this camping?

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I didn’t camp much as a child. My only real memory of camping was a weekend with Uncle Ed and Auntie Rita at a Yogi Bear’s Jellystone campground where my dad accidentally pitched our tent on top of a spider’s nest. In his defense, we arrived in the dark and had just narrowly escaped a group of angry pre-teens who didn’t appreciate our station wagon headlights shining on their outdoor Yogi movie.

I camped in a tent once or twice with my husband and spent one entire evening shaking through a severe lightening storm waiting for a tree to crush my skull. While admittedly not a huge fan of the tent camping, I love all that goes along with the full camping experience…hiking, biking, kayaking, bonfires, s’mores, Toby Keith, and Tanqueray. I wanted it all, and so began our camping evolution.

The tent retired into the basement and we bought a pop-up camper. Had some good times in that old Dutchman and even camped into Month 8 of my first pregnancy. God bless the Luggable Loo. A couple years went by and we splurged on a used hard-sided camper, which we still own today. We’ve blown all four tires, almost lost a side wall on the Interstate, smashed a window and cracked a water pipe. Time for an upgrade?

While a friend might (and does) argue that dining in supper clubs and having a private bathroom is not camping, it suits me just fine. That said, this past weekend when we took our not-so-trusty old camper to northern Wisconsin with the kiddos, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we have evolved a little too far.

What do you think? Too much?!