I fell off the bandwagon

At least I can say I saw it coming. I even issued a fair warning, knowing that I would become increasingly short on time. But now, after nearly five months of silence on this blog, I can decidedly admit that I've fallen off the social media bandwagon.

At some point last year, my tweets rapidly dropped off. I had forgotten about tumbling. Don't even get me started on Google Reader, where even my favorite feeds go un-clicked for weeks, so I wouldn't have many links to share. I even stopped posting pictures to Facebook.

Now, as I gradually regain my foothold in the online world, here's my question: Is there a 12 step program to get back on this wagon?

**photo credit to Matt Hamm

You know who you are

You forget how to sleep longer than five hours. Hell, you forget what your own bed looks like. You think coffee is a meal, and vegetable is a foreign word. You stopped caring about all of this weeks ago.

You've knocked on thousands of doors. You can recall the address of a house and the face of a "stranger" you'll remember forever. Even though you'll never meet again, you know this person will remember you. You now have friends in just about every swing state.

You hate the words "yard sign" and "bumper sticker," but secretly love seeing them along roads and on cars.

You believe every vote counts -- not because you can't do math, but because you personally fought for them one by one.

While the world celebrated, a big part of you just wanted to cry on November 5. Actually, you did cry. Your friends and family keep asking "what's next?"... and you know it's only because they miss you.

Most importantly, you realize the work is not over; in fact, you know that the real fight starts tomorrow.

We might have met along the way, and if so, I'm thinking of you. Either way, thank you.

My priorities

If there is one thing that working on a campaign in the most important election year of our lives will teach you - with a constant reminder of our deadline (104 days now) - its how to prioritize. I am continually reminding my staff that the most valuable resource an individual has is time. For example, asking people to volunteer, and give up some of their time, is asking more than we tend to realize. Yet, I find it hardest to live that realization and make the most of every minute I have to give.

Prioritizing is the balance of two forces: urgency and importance. Some tasks need to get done at that moment, or they can be chalked up as a loss. Although others seem more important, the deadline is not so urgent, and can be delayed if necessary, but only - and this is a big BUT - if you plan ahead to complete it later.

However, even if my time is carefully prioritized and planned carefully, it is impossible to avoid the unplanned that is oftentimes most important and urgent. This weekend, everything I had planned to achieve was thrown out the window - much of which someone else would catch and complete - so I could take care of life's number one priority: my family.

Something tells me that you too have felt this same dilemma and not always made the best choice. And, even when we make the conscious commitment to that top priority, and do what's needed for unplanned time with family, our subconscious quietly slips back to the planned, controlled, and seemingly urgent professional responsibilities.

My theory on why this happens is simple in concept, but hard to remedy in practice: everything seems MOST important and MOST urgent at the same time, and usually family is the most difficult to "deal with." I say this in the midst of a difficult family time, but know that it's almost always true. People, especially those we love, are impossible to control, when compared to numbers, spreadsheets and even blog posts.

Here's the fix: choose what's most important, focus on that, and side bar the rest - literally, for those of us addicted to our blackberries and iPhones. You can only do ONE thing at once, although our minds like to trick us into thinking we can be superhuman. Maybe it's too many superhero movies.

But, I had a chance to see Dark Knight (if you haven't yet - go!), and even Bruce Wayne couldn't be in two places at once. Batman seemed more human this time around, and I think that's what makes this one of the great superhero movies -- we can relate.

Before I left my office to go home to my family, my friend and colleague stopped me and said "you have to be a human." I didn't fully realize what that actually means until just now. I can only be one place, and my mind can only focus on one thing at a time. Prioritizing my mind and time is my choice, irregardless of the crap the world throws at me.

At this early hour on Monday morning, I have a big week ahead with many priorities, as I'm sure you do, too. Stop and consider all your priorities, and prepare to start throwing many of them out the window (hopefully you have people to catch yours too). Life is unplanned, but if we train our minds to focus on what is most important in each moment, and take care of it, we will find that it makes time for the rest.

So, if you notice I'm not posting here very often, you'll understand that I've either (1) failed because I didn't truly focus on each task at hand or (2) succeeded at prioritizing because I've decided that other things are just more important and urgent.

I was 9 years old in 1992

In today's Times, Columnist Paul Krugman paints a good picture of why "It’s feeling a lot like 1992 right now," and draws strong parallels between Senator Obama and President Clinton.

Current polls — not horse-race polls, which are notoriously uninformative until later in the campaign, but polls gauging the public mood — are strikingly similar to those in both 1980 and 1992, years in which an overwhelming majority of Americans were dissatisfied with the country’s direction.

So the odds are that this will be a “change” election — which means that it’s very much Mr. Obama’s election to lose. But if he wins, how much change will he actually deliver?

Since I was nine years old in 1992, and therefore not factoring into the polling numbers, I was not a member of that overwhelming majority, but I do consider myself a major benefactor of the resultant election. Like many Americans, I'm nostalgic for the 90s, but more so for Saved by the Bell and an MTV that actually played music, than for an economy stimulated by tax cuts and job creation.

Regardless of my memories of that era, I understand now that my fondness for my childhood, and subsequently my teenage and early adult years, is very much a result of 8 years under a president who "transcended the traditional liberal-conservative divide."

My sister will be nine years old when our next president in sworn into office. I know that her life -- the ability for her to go to the doctor when she's sick and afford college when she's ready -- will very much be shaped by who Americans put into office this November.

So yes, Mr. Krugman is right, "The real question is whether (we) will take advantage of this once-in-a-generation chance to change the country’s direction." And this is not just about who we put in office, it's about pushing those people -- Democrats AND Republicans -- to put this country back on the right track.

And I now understand this too, which is why I've decided to spend as many days and as many hours as it takes to ensure my little sisters will look back on the 2010s with the same fondness I have for the 90s. They also happen to think Barack Obama is a pretty cool guy, and that's no small thing either.

Giving what you can afford

When Barack Obama officially secured the nomination on Tuesday, I cried. Multiple times. I cried over the emotion of this historical moment. I cried for the people who gave their lives to achieve it, especially my friends made during the Pennsylvania Primary. I cried because I had and will continue to have the privilege to be a part of it.

Across the country, I know others were crying for the opposite, yet very similar, reasons: the lost chance to make history of a different kind, and the investment -- emotional, time, and monetary -- in something, and someone, that now appears to show little return.

Yesterday, I cried for these people, and for a woman who achieved so much for our gender, blazed the trail for my future, and made our presumptive nominee a better candidate by pushing the issues that matter -- like healthcare, the economy, and Iraq. (Yes, I realize that all this crying is indicative of another issue: lack of sleep).

After Hillary Clinton's concession speech, I almost immediately received two emails calling for party unity -- one from Howard Dean (aptly titled "Unity") and one from Barack Obama with a subject simply reading "Hillary Clinton."

Speaking on behalf of The Democratic Party, Dean says:

...But no matter who you supported, you're part of a bigger family -- one that shares the same hopes, values, and dreams. This campaign is so much more than any of us or any candidate. It's about the future of our country, and our collective desire to take it back for the people who make it great.

He asks us to talk to friends and family, and reach out to people who "fought hard for what they believed in." In the end, we were all fighting for the same goals, just different people to lead us there. However, people are united around people, not issues. To rally around a cause, we so often look for figureheads and leaders to represent an issue -- such as Al Gore for the environment or Bono for Africa. What Barack Obama represents to me, Hillary Clinton represents to my friends and neighbors.

As such, Senator Obama writes:

It's going to require a new level of commitment from every single one of us to build a national campaign in the general election. And we're going win this election the right way -- by growing our grassroots network of ordinary people giving only what they can afford.

Obviously, this was an appeal for money (mainly because the Obama campaign and The Democratic National Committee just pledged to take zero funding from lobbyists). But I'm asking you to give in another way -- involvement. You can give by...

• Educating. Take some time everyday to educate yourself on the issues plaguing this country, then take a few minutes more to talk to your friends and family about how we can solve them together.
• Participating. Consider ways to mobilize your community to get involved in the political process. If you're looking for ways to get involved now, or in the fall, please drop me a note here in the comments, or directly by email.
• Exercising your privilege to vote, at a minimum.

Personally, I'm giving most of my life -- time, energy, resources, etc. -- for the next five months to not only elect Barack Obama, but to put the political process back in the hands of individuals. Over the last two weeks, I've learned that the level of apathy is high, not just among young voters, but among everyone from college-educated voters in "non swing states" to struggling citizens feeling disenfranchised by our government.

We have the power to change all of that, but we do it by giving what we can, not turning our backs on reality: our country is in a bad place, and one person can't fix it alone.

Met my hero on the Greyhound last night

No, Barack Obama wasn't taking the bus from Philly to DC. Not sure where Kanye West was last night (yea, I declared him "my hero" after the concert on Saturday). But, when I hesitantly walked through the isle of the Greyhound -- still frazzled from a crazy day and last minute plans to head to the Capitol - I chose one of the few empty seats next to gentleman in uniform.

As soon as I settled in the seat, my impatience, curiosity, and sociability got the best of me, and I abruptly introduced myself. Fortunately, (we'll call him Mike) is a friendly guy, so he kindly returned the greeting, and this began our three hour ride together.

Within the first fifteen minutes, I found out that Mike is wrapping up his two week break from his tour with the Army in (drum roll please…) Iraq. Almost immediately, I realize I must get to know this guy, and seize the opportunity to pick his brain. Lucky for me, he was game (likely because he was trapped between me and a bus window with a long night ahead and little else to bide his time).

Now, don't picture some kind of Q&A session. I'm no 'Barbara Walters of the Greyhound.' But, out of convenience and a mutual unfamiliarity and interest in one another's circumstances, we chatted. In 3 hours - one of which we spent sleeping -- I learned more from Mike than I've learned from any one person in recent memory.

As you might assume from this post, I've never really known a member of our armed forces. Of course, I've met a few of these brave men, and I've read some blogs, and of course I watch news coverage of the war. Obviously, the latter doesn't do them justice. It doesn't even come close.

Mike joined the Army right out of high school in Northeast Philly to "stay out of trouble." Over the last six years, it's become his life and profession. "I get up at 6, go to work, finish at 15 or 1700, and go grab a beer with friends, or go to Walmart, or go home and watch TV, or whatever. It's a job. It just has more structure than most."

Can you tell he's modest? It wasn't until after Baltimore, as he encouraged me to ask away (it was probably obvious that I was chomping at the bit), that I got the full story.

"Haven't you been in some scary situations?" I asked in earnest. He shared some gory details - the kinds of stories you imagine, but rarely hear - with an even tone and straight face. Out of respect, I held back my emotion and horror, constantly reminding myself that this is his life, and he is about to go back to work.

He asked me about my work, where I'm going, where I've been, and to my utmost flattery, even applauded my recent decision to upend my life for something I believe in. We discovered that while we are VERY different on paper - in things like upbringing, lifestyle, and occupation - we actually have a lot in common.

Mike and I are both 24. We both like beer, and once hid it from our parents as teenagers. We're Phillies fans. We both like to win - at everything. We've even hung out at the same bars in the last week. And, like most people in their mid-twenties, our lives are unpredictable, and we cling to friendships for stability.

More significantly, we both want to make this world a better place. Neither of us is sure that what we're headed into over the coming months is actually going to contribute to that goal, but we hope it does, or it eventually will.

Mike shared many reasons why he's over there fighting and putting his life on the line (my words, not his). To my surprise, the first was purely financial. Apparently, you can make a nice living with the Army if you play your cards right. He sees a future with the Army - actually, he has a 40 year plan -- and he candidly shared some ways others take advantage of this opportunity. "People can get a lot out of the Army, but it'll take a lot from you."

The intensity of this give and take relationship is foreign to me. Of course, as I made sure to point out multiple times, this life is foreign to me. So, I listened with great interest as he shared his feelings about this war, Bush ("Your President, my Commander in Chief"), the future of Iraq, and his role in it all.

Let me be the first to admit that I'm totally ignorant to this perspective. And that's sad because this is the perspective that matters. If you think you know if and how our government should end this war, and you haven't talked to someone actually fighting in it, then your beliefs are only half-baked.

As we approached our Nation's Capital (the irony is not lost on me), and my bus trip was coming to a close (his 22 hour ride was only just beginning), he wished me luck on my adventures and reminded me that, "McCain is going to win in November. I'm not saying it's what I want, but I think it's what's going to happen."

I'm taking that as a challenge, and although we may never speak again, Mike will be my inspiration over the next six months. There will be trying times ahead, moments of shear panic, and probably even the desire to quit. At those times, I'll remember how he gets through each day, "If I'm not sleeping in a dirt hole, life's not bad."

CHANGE is a funny word

Earlier today, I joked on Twitter, "there is something so refreshing about CHANGE. maybe that's why I have a one-sided love affair with mr. obama..." whose campaign has actually published the "Blueprint for Change" (PDF).

Later, I emailed my soccer team suggesting that we CHANGE our team name because we've been in a rut (1-3 start to the season). Sure, I'm only half-serious, but sometimes a small CHANGE -- representing a fresh start or a renewed energy -- can make all the difference.

Tomorrow will mark my last day at my first job. After two and half years, I'm not just switching companies, or moving my commute to a new part of Philly. No, I'm halting my path of navigating the PR industry, making a 90 degree pivot, and taking my career -- and my life -- a different direction (at least for now). This is a big CHANGE.

In response to my tweet about Obama, Phillip Zannini replied "We'll see if you still love him 4 years from now should he get elected. Rhetoric is great - he still has to show me the pudding."

As usual, @phillymac is right. I can't predict or promise what this country or this world will look like in four years any more or less than Senator Obama (or Clinton, or McCain for that matter). But I can tell predict that, if Barack Obama is elected, certain things will CHANGE, and I can promise that one of those things will be me.

A few predictions...

• America's youth will know a President they respect, admire, and even count as a hero.
• We will see a renewed interest and engagement in our government and politics.
• And as a result, the future leaders of this nation will reconsider a career in public service.

Personally, I'll be proud to be an American again. I'll put faith and hope in our government. I'll even consider putting my life and career into it. How can one politician do all this? Quite honestly, I haven't totally figured out the answer to why I'm so moved. Some of it is a result of my experience with the campaign in Philly, and the people I met who were equally inspired to take action. But much of my inspiration resides in the idea of CHANGE.

Some people call it "rhetoric" like that's a bad thing. You can claim these are "just words," and argue that "great speeches don't make you a great leader." I'll disagree. We are all in the business of communicating, and as an avid student of communication, I believe in the power of words.

So, yes, CHANGE is just a word. Actually, it's a word with multiple meanings. The first time I was going to see Senator Obama speak live (at a small rally of Philly volunteers) one of my colleagues said, "I dare you to ask him to break a 20." Of course, not getting the joke, I gave him a puzzled look. "Well, he's always talking about change."

Sure, there has been a lot of talk a lot about CHANGE. But some of us can and will back these words up with action. I happen to believe that Barack Obama is one of those people. Today, I like to think I'm one in my own small way. So stay tuned, because CHANGE is more than refreshing... it's fun.

*Photo from a Runner's Thoughts on Obama