Archives for category: General

Beyond the level of your basic human needs – clean water, food, that kind of thing – monopolies tend to be bad for the citizen.

Control and flexibility in one’s life is about choices, so when do you don’t have choices, you tend to suffer.

Perhaps the title of this post should be Monopolies in Emerging Economies, or perhaps in Not Very Densely Populated Areas, because my example for this is the west of Ireland.

Where I live we have one choice of central heating fuel, and one choice of provider of that fuel. The houses in the area were plumbed for this type of energy, and the switching costs to another type of fuel are either prohibitively high or it’s not possible to switch because the infrastructure’s not here.

When this happens, you’re a hostage to the macro ebbs and flows of global energy costs which invariably get passed onto you when the flows are not in your favour, and are slow to come back to you when they are. Hate that :-(.

 

When you live online for so long, experiencing the world largely in 2D, even with moving pictures, you forget that there’s really no substitute for the real thing.

I get reminded of this every time I’m at a physical event. I’m not talking about office work or a meeting, I’m talking about an organised event, the culture of the physical, or perhaps the physics of the culture. It’s more than just physical, it’s emotional, sensory, visceral in some cases.

The other day I was at an oyster festival and there was a cultural exchange between an Irish region and a French region – known primarily for its wine, an added bonus – going on in the marquis. The Irish as hosts had laid down a dance floor and there was an Irish dancing demonstration by the local youth troupe who happened to have just won some big word championship thing.

Man, it was fantastic! I’ve not experienced the Riverdance phenomenon, but I have seen Irish dancing before. Being there in a marquis of maybe 100 people, up close, I was barely two metres away from the dancers. It was literally spine-tingling, almost Newtownian in the sense that you feel part of the energy they’re expending and creating in the room.

I made a mental note to fill the family’s calendar with as much culture as possible.

This is a topic I’ve written on before, but it’s one I find really interesting and rewarding. One of the things that for me separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom is that people we don’t even know will help us out or do us a favour. Often when we least expect it.

My first proper job after college was in Liverpool, where I was a graduate trainee with an insurance company. A bunch of us had started out at the same time, and so we had a ready made social group which tended to make us burn the candle at both ends.

I was taking the local train home one evening, after a particularly long week of ‘word hard, play hard’. Across from me was a bearded man, rough looking and shabby, with a beanie on. The kind of chap you might not sit down next to if faced with a choice of empty seats.

My regular train ride home was about 20 minutes, so I risked a tiny bit of shut-eye, as I’m a very light sleeper. The next thing I knew, I got a tap on the knee from the guy across from me, who I was convinced I had never seen before.

“I think this is your stop mate.” I look out the window, and indeed it was. I thanked him and bolted out of the carriage, without asking him how on earth he knew. I’m a terrible one for forming an opinion on someone from appearances, and yet again I was proved wrong. Now there’s probably a 1 in 10,000 chance he was a stalker, and a 9,999/10,000 chance he was a stranger doing someone else a favour and paying it forward.

It kind of restores your faith in humanity for a while. Rather like a story I heard today about a bus full of lads travelling from Dublin to an Irish-speaking hurling tournament in Connemara. They passed an ‘auld fellah’ cutting turf and faced with a field of turf bricks that needed turning up and leaning into each other in wigwam-type shapes for drying. All 40 of them got out and turned the turf in 10 minutes, before getting back on the bus and resuming their journey.

Love that kind of thing :-).

Whether you’d rather be a comma than a full stop, or vice versa, it’s important to understand these two most common punctuation marks so that you can wield the correct power over your reader.

Aside from their functions in punctuation, using them is a signpost to your reader of when – and for how long – you want them to pause.

When people don’t use them properly, or not enough, their prose – or indeed poetry – doesn’t flow properly and can be frustrating to wade through.

When I insert a comma, I want you to pause at the end of that clause, at that precise point, so that you can begin the next.  When I insert a full stop, I want you to pause a little longer. That’s because I might want to start a new sentence or a new train of thought.

Which is easier to read? a) The cat, which has a name but that’s not important, sat on the mat. b) The cat which has a name but that’s not important sat on the mat. c) The cat which has a name but that’s not important, sat on the mat. Why, a) of course!

I’ve seen folk write: The cat, sat on the mat. Why would anyone either want you to pause there or think it’s correct punctuation to put a comma right after the subject, unless you’re introducing a clause which stands on its own right – witness option a) above?

When you know where to put your comma, your reader knows how to read your stuff, simple as that. Full stop.

 

 

A Home Office

A Home Office

These days many, many people are fortunate enough to be able to divide their working hours between the office or customer and home, or to devote 100% of their time to working from their home office. For some people, working from home is tricky, demanding the discipline to avoid ‘sherking from home’ and the will-power to stay away from the fridge and the food cupboards. They prefer an office setting, mixing with fellow professionals and away from their home setting. If this is you, this post is probably not for you. Certain jobs lend themselves to a home-based solution, where the technological advances mean that everything that needs to be done can be done in calls, web meetings, and video conferences. Nothing beats a face-to-face meeting, but we are getting much better at managing them so that we can maximise our productivity, minimise our travel, reduce our footprint, all without getting cabin fever and going stark raving mad from isolation. For those of us lucky enough both to enjoy and thrive in a home office arrangement, the set-up is important. Here’s a picture of my home office. I thought it would be interesting to share a few thoughts on what I think is important. Most of this might be duh-obvious to some of you, to others less so. Technology first. Reliable broadband has to be a given. Invest in a decent phone with good quality audio and a good quality headset. This means you can be hands free and more productive, while not sounding distant, preoccupied or disrespectful to the other person. My phone in a previous job was not good enough and so when we went to record the webinars I was chairing, I had to drive 150 miles to the office to use a decent phone or else I had to pick up the phone and tie up one hand for the webinar’s duration. Furniture second. Again, a good, comfortable chair at the right height is key. I’m not a shining example of ergonomic best practice, but this is another area worth investing in so that you don’t get sore shoulders, wrists and so on.  We also had custom desks and shelving designed for our office – that’s me and Mrs D – since space is at a premium in this rather small room. It cost us a small fortune, but has paid us back comfortably, pun intended. Light third. Natural light is always preferable, and a decent view out of the window for when you need to draw breath or dream about your 5-year plan. As you can just about see from the reflection in the monitor, the window to my back garden is to the right, so I can keep an eye on the dogs, guinea pigs and chickens that frequent it at different times of the year. You can also see how the light has faded the spaces round the pictures of my previous wall collage. Mementos fourth. Speaking of collages, I like to surround myself with pictures of family, stuff my kids have made for me, tickets from significant shows or sporting events, as well as keepsakes from my earlier days, to remind me how lucky I am as a person and also in my work/life balance. The previous pictures have only come down in the last couple of months and now I’m starting to build up the next 3- or 4-year chapter of my life with stuff that’s important to me. Fifth, tidiness. I don’t know if an untidy office equals a disorganised mind, but I can’t work in a sea of clutter, so I always tidy up before I start working or writing. Sixth and last, books. So much of the written word is in electronic format these days, yet I still find it good to thumb through a marketing reference manual or check a diagram. I also keep my last few ‘day books’ where I religiously record everything of import that I hear on calls or in meetings. They’re so handy for going back to, to remind yourself of exactly what was said, or what you thought was said. I’m sure this post is more about my home office than your home office and says more about who I am as a person. In any event it has served me well for the guts of the last decade, so I hope the observations are useful to you too.

Men, dear reader, are supposed to be allotted three score years and ten before they shuffle off their mortal coil. Maybe four score or more if they play their cards judiciously. That doesn’t sound too bad.  It’s a fair old innings, as we say in England. 70 years I could live with, pun intended. 70 christmases, 70 birthdays, 70 Wimbledons, it’s not too bad.

It’s only when you think of it in terms of months that it doesn’t seem very long that we get to rent a cubic metre of space on the planet. 840 months is not very long at all.

A month can go past in what seems like the blink of an eye. And what have we achieved since the beginning of the month? Not much I bet. And suddenly there goes another one.

Time marches on relentlessly, and thinking about our lifespan in terms of months helps us to not waste a single day if we can help it.

Never know if you should be spelling those pesky little words like practice, advice etc with a ‘c’ or an ‘s’?

As with a lot of things, it depends on the context, that is to say whether you’re using a noun or a verb.

My Dad explained it this way to me once and I never forgot it: You advise some advice, and you practise some practice. As long as you remember to say it practIZE, and spell it practISE, you’ll be laughing.

Easy! Bear in mind, though, that this holds true for British English, not so much so for the other strains of English. Sorry!

The trouble with people making something look easy is that we all think we can do it, so we give it a try and either get an appreciation that’s it not easy at all and try to get better at it, or get depressed that we’ll never get that good and give up.

When you see great sport, or you hear a great song, or watch any kind of great performance, business or pleasure, what you don’t see is the 10,000+ hours of practice that culminated in making something look easy, effortless even. It is the thousands of hours that enables an expert to control time, in the sense that they seem to create more time for themselves or else can execute flawless timing.

We all operate our work, art or sport at certain levels, and when we see someone performing what we do at a level or levels above us, it’s not just that they make the level they’re at look easy. Even though they’re doing the same thing as us – playing the same sport, singing the same song, performing the same job – they’re actually doing something different. That’s when you say, or hear someone say something like ‘now that’s proper tennis/entertainment/marketing’ (delete as applicable).

There are two ways to fix this. One way is to practice more, and keep practising, to get better. The other is to avoid being compared with them.

 

 

Ach, how to rid ourselves of the scourge of the self-servers, people who always put themselves ahead of others! In English, we say ‘I’m alright Jack’ to refer to these kinds of undesirable people.

In Irish, we call them ‘me feiners’. Here’s a good example of someone – a pretty laconic and articulate Kiwi as it happens, using the word to describe someone else.

It doesn’t matter in what walk of life or work you’re in, the me feiner is to be avoided, shunned even. They don’t pay back, they take but don’t give, they feather their own bed. If you’re in sales or marketing, you won’t last the course if you put yourself first the whole time. Success in those spheres is based on partnership, equity, balance, equilibrium. A fair exchange of effort, investment and reward.

You may be alright Jack, but not for long.

Moustaches are odd things. I’ve written about these tonsorial aberrations before. You can only really get away with them if you’re a biker or a colonel.

Or a local councillor. At election time you see posters everywhere for encumbent or would be candidates. An alarming number of the faces have moustaches – or mustaches as our American friends would write.

Local councillors are a bit like the police or traffic wardens. They never seem to live where you do. Where do they live? In a parallel universe perhaps, or perhaps birds of a feather do indeed stay together, preferring their own company.

So I suppose we define ourselves and our company by either choosing to wear a moustache, or choosing not to wear one. For me, there’s nothing quite like it to signal where you feel you belong.