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I read a lot of press releases. I also write a fair number of them. Most of the ones I read – the ones I didn’t write, at least – lead me to wonder what the purpose of the exercise was. Dateline: Anywhere, USA, Today XYZ, Inc. is pleased to announce the appointment of Fred Smith as (insert C or VP level title here). Mr. Smith joins the XYZ team after (insert career track here), and is looking forward to…blah, blah, blah. This is, of course, great news for Fred, and for XYZ, Inc. If it isn’t, XYZ, Inc. is in deep kimchee. But why would anyone outside of XYZ, Inc. care, based on the information in the press release? Journalism 101 centers around the “Five Ws” – Who, What, When, Where, Why. Answer all those questions, and you’re a news item, right? Wrong. You do need to cover the five Ws. You also need to answer the question, “Who cares?” That will answer another important question, “What’s my lead?” You want to get the reader’s attention with your first sentence, to spark interest in the story you have to tell.  That’s your lead, your hook. Just trumpeting the fact that Fred Smith has joined the team isn’t a hook. But if Fred just joined XYZ after driving revenues up 150% in two years at ABC, Ltd., that’s a hook – and should be the lead on the press release. Another important thing about press releases is: don’t just send them to the press. Post them online at PR.com, PRWeb.com, DBusinessNews.com, Yahoo and Google News, industry association websites, and any other web portal that your customers visit. When you write a press release, write it as if you’re telling the story to that big customer you want to attract. If…

One of the most anticipated events in recent television history, the final episode of The Sopranos on HBO, apparently left legions of fans (including this one) staring at their television sets in dumb wonder at 10:05pm on June 10. An anguished outcry ensued (including Nikki Finke’s whining screed, with side commentary on how much HBO basically sucks and that subscribers are jumping ship in droves), which I admit I joined for about 15 seconds…and then I realized that this is actually the only way this series COULD end. Life doesn’t end, even if one life does.  Just ask Phil Leotardo’s daughter, or Janice, or even Ginny Sack. This series is quintessentially New York, including the bridge & tunnel crowd, of which the Soprano crew were proud members.  Things in the tri-state area don’t get wrapped up neatly, unless it’s a hero from Satriale’s. In the Land of LA, appearance is all.  Gotta hide anything that ain’t perfect behind the hedge, or out past the Valley.  This is not to say that appearance doesn’t matter in NY – just TRY to get away without a predominantly-black outfit at certain social events – but in NY, we like our art a little messy.  Things don’t get completely resolved.  Life has ragged edges. So, I think last night’s episode – in spite of some of its more obvious moments, like “Don’t Stop Believing” as the denouement’s auditory backdrop – but that cut-to-black? Brilliant.

Jim Cramer, Mister “Booyah” himself, is bloody brilliant. In an effort to clear up the tottering piles of print magazines that are always accumulating in this writer’s garret, I was going through said piles and tossing any that didn’t grab me with their cover.  (Magazine 101 – gotta grab ’em with your cover.)  And there it was – the June 4, 2007 NY Mag, with Mr. Mad Money himself on the cover, figuratively punching the viewer in the face and posing the question “Who the @#$%! does Jim Cramer think he is?” , bylined by his own self. I couldn’t resist.  I abandoned the clean-up, and settled in to see just who the @#$%! Jim Cramer thinks he is. Turns out, he thinks he’s a loser and a bit of a jerk – but he also is a glutton for attention, and has a deeply held belief that his audience is pretty damn smart. That’s a refreshing change from most of the talking heads on the financial networks, who either read headlines between breathless reports from the floor of one exchange or another while spouting “Market’s up!” or “Market’s Down!” or “Market’s Flat!”…or pontificate on some piece of news that purportedly explains why the market is up, down, or lying there like a turnip.  All with an air of “we’re waaaay smarter than you.” This goes a long way toward explaining Cramer’s Q factor – he’s one of the most recognized faces in financial news – and his popularity with the under-30 audience, particularly the college crowd, where “booyah” is a war cry heard on campuses across the land.  Cramer regularly does remotes from colleges and universities, and he’s greeted like a rock star at each and every one. Love him or hate him, he’s a powerful force – and…

No, I’m not asking if you pass the Windows Genuine Advantage test. What I’m asking is…do you fake it? No, I’m not referring to the famous “I’ll have what she’s having” corned-beef-gasm that Meg Ryan made famous in When Harry Met Sally. What I’m asking is…are you authentic? It’s easy to fake it – to act as if you know what you’re talking about, even if you’re talking out of…well, your ass.  It’s easy to appear as if you give a damn, even if you’re thinking “who gives a sh*t about this (project/idiot co-worker/social issue)?” Naked emperors dance willy-nilly through the streets these days.  Are you courageous enough to be the little kid down front who says…”But, the emperor has no clothes!” It does take courage, because there’s a better-than-even chance you could face a firing squad before sundown with this approach. But wouldn’t it be great if more of us did exactly what that kid in the fable did, and called ’em like we see ’em? As a communication consultant, I find that people hunger for authenticity and truth.  Our culture seems to be captivated by the bread and circuses offered by the entertainment industry – of which I firmly believe the self-help movement is a part. Here’s a suggestion – try telling the truth, every day, at least once.  Lead by example.  Who knows, you may even influence a politician…

I’m speaking, of course, of what looks to be a  long, deadly slog over the next FIVE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE DAYS (oy…) as we struggle to choose our next Commander in Chief. The three recent fashion shows, one Democrat and two Rebublican, can’t really be called debates.  Too many players.  What they were and will continue to be is fashion parades, with an occasional round of “gotcha” – like Barack Obama’s response to the what-if-two-US-cities-were-attacked question (he was asked about a military response, and he nattered on about emergency response teams), and the admission by Sam Brownback, Mike Huckabee, and Tom Tancredo that they don’t believe in evolution (are these the dinosaurs that shared the earth with Neanderthals?  Or just the Neanderthals?). Give me a break. What is the electorate supposed to learn from these “debates”?  That None of the Above is looking better and better as a ballot choice? The Republicans are stuck in the 80s, and can’t stop worshiping Ronald Reagan, who is credited with the fall of communism.  News flash – communism would have died a natural death if Francis the Talking Mule had been in the White House in the 80s. How on earth does Reagan come in second behind Abe Lincoln as the greatest US president?  Granted, it was a small sampling of 800 adults in a survey done by Washington College – the college’s namesake came in EIGHTH in that survey, god help us.  The Democrats seem to all be running on the platform of “Hey, we’re not Republicans!” My vote continues to be None of the Above. And I’m off to pick up some new hiking boots – it’s already getting deep, and it’s gonna be a long march to November 2008…

I haven’t weighed in on this before because…well, frankly, the blogosphere and the freakin’ airwaves are blanketed with babbling about Monday’s unspeakable horror at VA Tech. But here goes. I’ve been listening to what seems like a building chant of “Where were the cops?”  “Where was the university administration?”  “How could they let this happen?” Forgive me, but it appears that the lawyer’s chorus is forming a line, preparing their opening salvos in what will surely be a rising river of legal wrangling aimed to determine who to “blame” for the deaths of 33 people.  Including Cho Seung-Hui, whose actions should be reviled, but whose humanity we all share. How do things like this happen?  How does anything happen?  It just…does.  Blaming the cops, the university’s administration, the counseling center, or the gun store where Cho bought the weapons is useless.  Insanity is one of those things that happen, and what sets that in motion is often invisible to all but the person who tips into madness. In this instance, it appears as though others noticed that Cho was more that a little nuts – it sounds like the kid was profoundly disturbed.  But if his own family tried to “look on the bright side” (translation:  take a really long trip down that river in Egypt and totally ignore a child’s mental illness), how can we be surprised that the rest of the kid’s world was struggling to cope with his behavior? Rather than looking for “someone” to blame, how about we ALL take responsibility?  Every single damn one of us.  Every time someone we deal with exhibits signs of mental illness, how about we call attention to it in a meaningful way? Cho’s room-mates tried, but they’re too young to have acquired the knowledge and confidence to essentially throw…

Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007.  May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest, with Billy Pilgrim on backup. Often hilarious and occasionally either brilliant or impenetrable, Vonnegut’s novels were and are talismans for my generation.  His best work?  Slaugherhouse-Five.  His weirdest and most hopeful?  God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater. His website currently shows just a line drawing of a birdcage, with the door open and the bird flown. Something tells me that he left clear instructions about that…

Long ago and far away, or maybe it was just 30 years ago, Johnny Paycheck recorded David Allan Coe’s “Take This Job And Shove It”, which became an anthem for the workin’ man.  And woman. Recent events have me wondering if the word “job” is on the verge of becoming, if not obsolete, at least vestigal in American English. Detroit’s auto manufacturing plants are on the ropes.  Circuit City is laying off 3,400 sales employees.  Most days it feels like the entire workforce is teetering on the edge of redundancy – in both the Brit and Yank versions of English. Back when Johnny recorded his big crossover hit, the idea of joining a company out of college and working your way up the ladder over the next 20-30 years was considered the norm. The bad news is that the American workforce, like the military, is fighting the “last war” – in the workforce model, the belief that employment with one company for an entire career is still possible, or even desirable. Go to school, get good grades, get a job. How about pay attention in school, study business, identify a need, and fill it.  You don’t have to be on the MBA track, this is a framework to follow even if you’re a stellar mechanic or plumber. This isn’t new stuff – Robert Kiyosaki has made a fortune saying essentially the same thing.  The education system in the US, and across the globe, needs to wake up to the fact that they’re still teaching to a 19th century societal model. Just one woman’s opinion…

Working my way through the NY Times today, I was brought up short by a headline alleging systematic Long Term Care (LTC) denial-of-claim problems, particularly with Conseco. For those of you not familiar with LTC, this is a policy that one purchases long before (ideally) one approaches the age of infirmity, paying regular premiums that, in theory at least, guarantee that one’s time in assisted living or a nursing home won’t bankrupt oneself or one’s family.  This worked for my family – my father, bless his heart, paid over $300 a month to insure my mother’s care should she need it.  She did.  He didn’t buy a policy for himself, since he’d already been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease – he got mom one, though, and it made the last several months of her life a little easier financially.  Particularly in the month between dad’s death and hers, since his death ended his large pension payment. Lest you think that John Grisham’s “The Rainmaker” was an amped-up-for-fiction view of insurance malfeasance, read this – the only LTC insurer that ends up looking good is Genworth Financial. Caveat emptor, baby.

I’ve seen several pieces in print and on various TV news outlets recently about “the new spring break” – college kids heading off for a week to drink ’til they puke, hook up indiscriminately, flash their…oh, wait, that’s the OLD spring break. The new spring break involves volunteering, doing something like building a Habitat for Humanity house or other community support work. Reading between the lines here – and I admit to wearing glasses – I seem to intuit a move away from the endless navel-gazing of “self-esteem” and, at long last, into the higher awareness of “self-respect”.  Hard to develop self-respect if one repeatedly wakes up hung over and naked – particularly hung over, naked and in bed with someone  whose name you don’t know.  Which is, I’m afraid, a common remembrance for any of us who participated in an old-school spring break.  Back inna day. Aggrandized self-esteem allows one to excuse just about any sort of behavior.  Attempts to say anything to the boy behaving badly or girl gone wild fall on deaf ears, since they see no error in any choice they make. Give that kid some self-respect, though, and they’re likely to avoid the drunken hook-up before it even becomes possible…perhaps there’s hope for humanity after all.