NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Re-Make Yourself

Nightmares of Networking
with "The Mad Genius"

Why the long face my little mentee? You are ugly enough that adding any area to that facade is enough to violate nuisance laws. Definitely a face made for radio.

Oh, you look like you are going to cry. As you are not near any onions nor have I truly started to interact with you, I assume that you are displaying negative emotions carried into my castle with you. Probably associated with your lack of love life, as you are as attractive as a sea sick crocodile. But you know, there are some things that you can do about it without resolving to radical cosmetic surgery coupled with gastric by-pass, which I think you should consider as you have not taken my last advice about caloric reduction being directly correlated with waist line reduction. But maybe you will listen to this advice, my not so little neandrathal networker.

The first thing I would recommend is a re-iteration of last time: start exercising more. The seratonin will definitely improve your mood, and if you start dropping the kilograms the positive re-inforcement will actually make you move the corners of your mouth upwards. You may actually also gain some self confidence and stop looking at my feet all the time. This will work wonders to make you more attractive, and not in the gravitational sense.

Secondly, grooming is important. Green teeth are not attractive to anything other than a Morlock. Remember our discussion a while back about the brilliant CTO whose clothing was like the bastard child of Jimi Hendrix and Tom Hanks various personae? You need to do all you can to make a good first visual impression, especially since your substance is about as deep as the current nanotechnology wafers. Granted, excrement cannot be polished, but we can make sure that it is at least presented in a positive light.

Speaking of excrement, what is that stench? Eau de regurgitated cheese doodle? You know that gaseous warfare was outlawed under the Geneva Convention, correct? I would suggest that you drastically reduce the amount of cologne you use: it is not a substitute for a shower. I smelt you coming up the stairs roughly ten thousand milliseconds before I had visual confirmation that it was you and not one of my Swamp Thing experiments gone awry. And yes, washing is required. With soap. Don’t pout: you remind me of my three year old Mini Me when I take his slide rule away. Yes olfactory offensive one, I have passed on my genetic code to ensure continuance of the world conquest. If you actually apply effort to be the external force from Newton’s First Law of a rather large body at rest, maybe you too can couple with the opposite sex instead of living in a fantasy world online. No, leather clad avatars are not real, and your girlfriend in Alaska that you never met and only Skype with while playing World of Warcraft does not count as “dating”. She in all likelihood does look like a ninth level Mohawk. I pity the fool!

Dust off the container of Nutter Butter crumbs from your shirt, put down the gallon sized Uber Sugar Energy Drink, and start to apply these ideas or else your family tree will meet a lumberjack.

Now leave so I can cauterize the offended nasal receptors you have utterly disrupted. For you are now dangerously close to entering the Hall of Shame for Networking Nightmares!

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.





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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Re-Make Yourself

NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Right Sizing

Nightmares of Networking
with "The Mad Genius"

Ah my little puppy, you have returned home to me for the start of the annual temporal cycle. This is good, for the resetting of goals to strive for combined with a reflection of past activities and their results is a method for improvement. Something you need vast quantities of. As opposed to more to eat.

I assume that you consumed a large quantity of egg nog and cookies, as you are wearing your “comfy pants.” I am titillated by your Saint Nicholas attempt: you do make a jolly fat man. Maybe the first thing you should attempt to achieve this year is a modicum of self control, especially when bacon wrapped anything are around. Do you realize that an extra hundred calories a day will equate to ten pounds of fat by the end of the year, just extra insulation on your body producing additional stress on your joints and heart? Supersizing those portions is supersizing your waistline.

What, you say you are in good shape? I agree: round is a good shape. Doing a quick interpolation, I predict you will achieve perfect spheroidity in about four years at your current pace. Given the geometric acceleration of your weight gain I think it actually might be by next Tuesday though.

Ignoring the medical costs, as well as the financial ones of having to get all your clothing specially made at Omar the Tent Maker's and that you are consuming enough calories to fuel a Lance Armstrong/Michael Phelps endurance contest, have you considered the effect of your mass and lethargy on your ability to attract people? And I do not refer to using your gravitational field, even though you are approaching event horizon status.

It is a psychological fact that successful people take better care of themselves than average, and Dr. Stanley's research shows that those who are decamillionaire status or above on average partake in physical activity for multiple hours a week. In fact, they attribute a portion of their success to having the physical stamina to out work others over an extended period while maintaining a high level of excellence. Maybe you should pay attention to this, as you do have expressed interest in becoming financially successful.

Do you know that biophysical studies have shown that exercise is more effective in the morning? There are two components to this: it accelerates your metabolism and forces your body to consume calories at a higher rate for a longer period by doing it early. A thirty minute workout in the morning actually burns more calories through the rest of the day than during the workout itself. The second is that you are less likely to blow it off because of a long day at work or other distractions if you just get it over with. So get your fat ass out of bed and motivating, and eventually I won't be able to call you fat ass anymore.

And since the networking events you frequent many evenings are obviously your dietary downfall, here are a few simple tips for you to remember to minimize the damage to you so you can stop bruising the pavement as you walk.

First: knock off the ethanol. You are already deficient with your neuronic number, so stop accelerating the decline unless you are trying to prove Darwin correct. Drink water or diet sodas at these soirees, that alone should be several hundred calories per night. And since you are out about three nights a week at these facial interaction events, that is over a pound of flab a month reduction without any other changes.

Next, eat from the vegetable platter primarily, not the cheese platter As you are currently more hippo than human this should be easy to mime a mobile vegetarian land mass. The lower caloric density of these non-processed flora foods will shave an additional thousand calories a week from your intake, thus reducing your weight by another pound per month.

Go ahead and have one or two bacon wrapped deep fried things: a little will be just enough to make you feel good. Sort of like compliments from me. But between actually getting some exercise and altering your eating habits in the manners we just discussed, even with these small splurges you will lose roughly a pound a week for the first half of the year, and then a slower loss thereafter. A negative fifteen kilograms this next year will do wonders for your self image, not to mention the effect on your public persona. Oh, and feel free to tell anyone that hazes you about grazing or being on the wagon and eating rabbit food or whatever that you are serious about your weight loss. If they are not supportive than you know to excuse yourself and increase the separation from them dramatically, as they will not aid you in your quest for personal excellence. Do not allow these individuals to even talk to you as they bring no value in terms of aligning with your goals as I do via my tough love.

And now my not so little friend you must depart, as I must get back to my schemes for world domination. This years method: gain public acceptance by making it to the New York Times Best Seller's List. The revenue and attention will definitely advance my mission of oligarchic control. And if you get back down to being a hundred kilogram weakling, maybe you to can join me at the celebration. Just avoid the deep fried bacon wrapped lard balls!

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.





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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Right Sizing

NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Christmas

Nightmares of Networking
with "The Mad Genius"

Ahhhh, time for the Holidays, even if home is a drafty castle hidden in the mountains, a cross between Superman's Fortress of Solitude and Dr. Frankenstein's Castle. But with 55 inch plasma TV's and a genetic engineering lab that makes Stanford's look like a high school science experiment. A mascot should at least be able to move! What is a Cardinal going to do, fall on you!?

So you are looking very festive in that Grinch tie with the light up eyes. You must be kindred spirits, as your brain is two sizes too small. But I do appreciate the fruitcake, as it is more effective than lead in stopping radiation.

I assume that you are getting ready to go to your office soiree this evening? Good, it is an opportunity to interact with those that make you appear intelligent. Kingdom of the blind and all that.

A few pieces of advice before you start consuming the enhanced eggnog my young friend:

1. Have a snack before you go to the party. This will help ensure that you do not over consume those cute little cocktail weenies or the filo dough wrapped cholesterol bombs, thus saving your waist line somewhat. Let the others pig out having fifths and sixths, you can take the time to interact with the Powers that Be in your office and impress them with your restraint and modicum of intelligence.
2. Have a big glass of water before the party. This will help slake your thirst, thus slowing down your consumption of ethanol. Let the kids be sloppy and stupid, you need to keep your wits about you if you are to differentiate yourself from the rest of that herd. And alternate one Bacchus worshiping beverage with one totally plain, like soda with a stirrer, to give the illusion of consumption while minimizing intake. An open bar leads to open mouth, which generally allows entrance of an extremity.
3. Remember our Golden Ratio? 2 ears, 2 eyes, 1 mouth. Use that proportion.
4. Avoid controversy. Yes, it can be fun to throw firecrackers to see how people jump, but between the emotions of the season, the stress from end of year at the office, alcohol, and all the other things, it is probably better to be somewhat bland. The newer hires will provide enough entertainment.
5. Remember the rule of being a performer: always leave them wanting more. Spend only enough time with any one person of authority above you to make them appreciate your wit and your evolution over the past year, but extricate yourself from the situation before you embarrass yourself. Maintain some mystery, so that they want to seek you out.

These may seem like simple ideas, and they are so that you can follow them even in the distractions that will surround you this season. Enjoy, but not too much. Or else I will have some great Networking Nightmare stories for next Yule.....

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.





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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Christmas

NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Taxing Your Brain

Nightmares of Networking

with "The Mad Genius"

Why hello my id driven synaptically deficient plebe! The Mad Genius is glad to see your somewhat misanthropic visage on this beautiful autumnal day, and not only as a distraction from me working on my taxes: do you think my atom smasher would qualify for a Section 179 “Accelerated Deduction”? I could definitely get that through an audit: the average revenue agent makes you look like an evolutionary marvel of cranial capacity.

Of course I do my own taxes, at least the initial iteration. As Einstein said: the single most difficult thing to understand is the US Tax Code. Since it contains more verbiage than the entire Library of Alexandria, and is in such constant flux that even those that oversee it do not even comprehend the potential imbedded in this perversely complicated document, I actually feel a moral and intellectual obligation to fully utilize the exclusions, deductions, loop holes and wormholes they have created. Just like Neo, I did not write the code but I know how to exploit it. And yes, I know kung fu.

Sit down, let us derive sustenance from a malted hops beverage and catch up on what you have achieved, beyond the remarkable fact that you tied your own shoes and were able to walk up the stairs while masticating without damaging yourself or my blown glass Jedi/Sith chess set. Just move that pile of printouts off the seat, it is validation for all of my deductions for my CPA so that she can sign off and use her letters to provide a level of protection in case the walking monetary vacuums from Washington decide to audit me. They question that which they do not comprehend...

You know my little padwan, CPA's are critically important even if they are just glorified bean counters that will tell you how much tax you have to pay instead of being proactive and helping you not accrue the tax in the first place. They create a line of defence with their knowledge of a convoluted tome, an esoteric area of knowledge. Similar to being able to repeat the names of all the Pokeman or the statistics of the 1962 Cardinals, but without the stupid cards and with a somewhat greater ramification for failure. Similar to attorneys: the only “profession” whose sole job is to protect you from other members of their profession. Except maybe mercenaries. Hmm, Zevon was correct. Lawyers, guns, and money.

But I always stay within the artificial constraints of human law. Why? Because I can win the game given the constraints they have put in place. Why risk a violation and the results, when the game can still be won even within the sometimes ludicrous shackles imposed? And it is even better to create solutions that the framers of the rules never contemplated, that are beyond their ability to relegate because you are on the section on their mental map that says “Here there be dragons.” Boggles their tiny little minds. They are right though: this unknown area is where the wise and powerful reside, my oligarchic peers and I. Maybe someday you can join us, if you are not devoured while small and young and weak as you are.

Since you are not excessively intelligent and actually need this thing called “sleep”, you should probably continue to build alliances to protect your gluteus maximus. You do not have the time, intelligence obviously, and other resources to go it on your own. You need to build a network of experts around you. Attorneys, accountants, professional hitmen... all the important skill sets that it is better to delegate out because of time needed to master or downside risk potential.

Long ago in my wild youth I knew a successful individual who let their ego overtake their capabilities outside their focus area, and they questioned my advice, looking for a cheaper and less radical alternative to my guidance. They found their cheaper advice with a less intelligent person, a Non-Mad Average Guy who did not fully comprehend the intricacies of our planning. And he made the average mistakes, to the tune of losing a third of what they sought to protect. They basically paid a Stupid Tax. Blake stated the theorem properly: a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, drink deeply or touch not the Pyrrhic Spring. Do not follow in these fools' steps: build relationships with those of excellence within skill sets you do not have but will value. Allow them to advise you on your direction, but ultimately be able to make your own decision and accept the consequences. By allowing a team of disparate experts to input into the discussion you garner greater knowledge to synthesize a better solution. Utilizing this Master Mind concept a la Carnegie will move you towards an optimal solution, and liberate temporal units for you to allocate towards more important things, like maybe how to dress yourself or reviewing your lessons with me. Let the experts do what they do so that you can do what you do, whatever that is.

Well, my beverage is done and the game with the Service awaits. Contemplate on our discussion as you wind your way back down from the lab, but please don't touch the other Storm Trooper pawns on the way down. Maybe on our next visit we can discuss how you have established your junta. Or maybe that too will be a Networking Nightmare....

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.


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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Taxing Your Brain

NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Become Uncomfortable to Become Better

Nightmares of Networking

with "The Mad Genius"

So, yet again you violate my lab with your stench of despair. It is nearly as offensive as the stink of inefficiency that emanates from Washington! Keep on the path that you are on and maybe you too will become a leach on society, generating nothing of value while stealing life from others. Not a politician, for you will not suck blood. No, you are on pace to become a psychic vampire, sucking away the will to live from all around you, just like Fred did for too long when he became the workplace equivalent of a zombie.

Fred for some reason thought he should be in the financial services world. Maybe because he was above average intelligence and liked money. He was a decent looking fellow and had a good sense of humor and was somewhat gregarious, all of which would push someone without a clear desire towards the financial services world, especially the banking world of the mid to late 1980's. The lack of risk taking that was genetic for Fred as the child of state workers led to this nice, safe, respectable path as a banker.

Fred sells mortgages for a large bank. The current desperate times in that field (once overfilled with idiots and shysters powered by greed and fueled by capitalism turned stupid through avarice unfettered by a soul) fits well with a semi-analytic but too nice person like Fred. In fact, he did the mortgage here on my castle. Very difficult to get a loan to cover both the lab and the moat, had to be re-classified as “Agricultural/Farm Usage”, hence the killer tomatoes and mutant turtles. That is Fred's picture there, next to Donatello. No, not the long haired Art Garfunkel/Mark Twain hybrid: that is my brother.

Yes, I have siblings. The Mad Genius is part of a brood of hyper-intelligent uber-humans that use our disparate talents to acquire power of all forms. That brother has assumed the role of a southern gentleman and is acquiring political power, a mix of Foghorn Leghorn and Tammany Hall. He truly enjoys having battles of the wits with unarmed opponents like you.

Once when we were at genius camp, the facility was also being utilized for a stop on the World Bingo Tour, so there were numerous old ladies with varying shades of blue hair in the cafeteria, complaining loudly and often about the lack of plums and prune juice. Somehow one of them discovered who and what we were, and talked to us ad nauseum because we “looked like nice young boys.” Ha!

“Are you boys geniuses? I always wondered what geniuses looked like!”

My brother is not as, ahem, restrained as I can be. His response?

“Actually, no. We are satanic demon worshipers that cannibalize old people to make way for the future. Want to join us for dinner? We have cake!”

“I don't want cake. It's fattening. I want plums.”

Yes, she also thought that euthanasia is Chinese children. But I digress, as evil super geniuses are wont to do. But the look on her face once she comprehended was priceless, much like Fred's when reality hit him like a 5cm by 10 cm xylum based lateral cranial impact enhancer. A 2X4 to the head for you with the double digit IQ's.

Fred as I mentioned was not a risk taker, business wise or emotionally. He never went out for sports in high school, and I believe the greatest risk he took into his thirties was trying the “medium” salsa. Even though he was good looking he was never married since he never took the risk of asking out a girl because he could not deal with the potential of rejection: better to avoid the whole situation in Fred's mind. Stay in your comfort zone where you can't get hurt, sort of an emotional “Bubble Boy”.

He liked banking because it was emotionally safe. Fred had clearly delineated decision criteria, and could always say “I am sorry, but the bank's procedures and policies say...” It was an emotional crutch for him that allowed somebody else to be the bad guy, and he could wallow in the pleasant feelings within his limited risk world around his little desk. Just show up and work the banker's hours, push some paper and talk pleasantly with little old ladies, and occasionally have something fall in his lap because he was there and a nice young man. Not much expected other than to be happy and cheerful and non-offensive, something he was good at.

And then the world changed around him. The walls between banking and investments and insurances fell, and suddenly Fred had to sell because he was in competition, a place that was as foreign to him as a locker room or Timbuktu. And so he waffled. And he waited. And he started to waste away. No more bonuses since he didn't really produce, and so it started to wear on him and weigh him down, and thus he was no longer so much fun to be around, and those in the branch slowly started to pull away from him as it became apparent to everyone but Fred what was going to happen.

Remember: Fred had no killer instinct, no inborn competitive fire or driving need to close a deal out of just a plain need to win. He cared more about being liked than being respected, so he did not want to “rock the boat” or “push the client too far”. He had lots of people in his system, but few clients because they did not actually buy stuff from him, they just used him as free consulting and did not hurt his feelings because they never came out and said “no”. Fred did not know how to ask for the sale anyway because he did not know how to “close”, to ask for the order. He did not want be considered pushy or rude, and as such was not even really considered for anything other than someone to get free information from and maybe sometimes take an order. Because he was a “nice young man.”

And so Fred sat at his desk and talked to the people that came in, and talked, and talked. But did not sell. Everyone still loved him. Except his bosses. Quarter after quarter the bottom line showed it: Fred was at the bottom of the heap, dead last among his peers that had played sports and actually kept score so they could learn to win and to hate to lose. All the people in the equivalent positions that had scars from trying and falling down but got back up, and had been told “no” by the pretty girl enough to learn how to be told “yes”, and had made themselves uncomfortable to make themselves better, all of them were doing better than Fred.

But that didn't bother him, because as he said “I'm not really into competition.” It didn't bother him, or so he said, until it started to hit his bottom line as he missed out on bonuses, and the cool trips with his friends. And then the massive cranial impact betwixt the visual orbs: produce or be terminated. Sell or lose the nice comfy world around you. Fred was overwhelmingly shocked and dazed: he had to do something he had never done, and did not have the skill set or the guts to do it. And so he sat. And sat. And was miserable. And made those around him miserable, until a month before his deadline.

A nice little old lady was sitting in front of him, someone who he had had many a cup of tea and plate of cookies with, but who had never bought anything from him. He had seen pictures of all two dozen of her cats, knew all the stories of all the grandchildren and about little Billy's “issues”. He had seen all the pictures from her trips and even had the nice little knit doily she had made him the last time she took his advice and implemented it someplace else, with one of his competitors that actually knew how to sell and wasn't afraid of upsetting an old lady by actually asking her to take action more emotionally risky than sharing her cookie recipe.

“You look sad Fred. Why?”

“Well Mrs. Muckity Muck, we have spent a lot of time talking, haven't we?”

“Yes Freddy. I do so enjoy your company. You are such a nice young man.”

Fred took a deep breath, because he was going to go beyond where he felt OK, into the uncharted territory of uncomfortableness. Off his personal map, to where there be dragons. “Well Mrs. Muckity Muck, I like you. I really do. And I hope you like me. But we have invested tons of time into your planning, and you still haven't done what we talked about. And that makes me sad, because I do like you and want to see you do well. So, not to be rude, but either you do this, or you don't. If you do we both win, if you don't than neither of us win. Please, let's win together. The numbers look good, we work well together, so the next step is....”

And she said yes. As did the next little old lady. Not all of them said yes, but Fred started actually asking for people to take action, without being pushy, enough so that he got enough yeses to be kept around. And he asked enough so that now he is actually comfortable asking someone after a few hours to proceed and do business. He is not a big fish in the bank, nor is he a shark by any means, but he is no longer the little guppy he was. He actually is swimming and getting better and stronger instead of just floating along. He is still liked by the blue haired old ladies, and he is actually listened to and used as a provider. Everyone lives happily ever after in the land of rainbows and unicorns.

So here is the lesson, my little Networker: muscles grow by being stressed. Not just your biceps, but the intellectual and risk tolerance equivalents thereof. Subject yourself to stress and eustress to grow, to be better than who and what you were and are. Push the envelop of your comfort zone, and you will not only start to acquire wealth and confidence, you will gain respect. Challenge yourself to be respected and valued instead of being liked. Lift the emotional weights and become strong, or be crushed under the burden like a bug. For that is truly a Nightmare...

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.

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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Become Uncomfortable to Become Better

NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Clothes Make (or Break) the Man

Nightmares of Networking with "The Mad Genius"

Ahh, my little Networkers, welcome back to the Mad Genius' Lab. No, don't touch that, unless you want to be reduced to an ectoplasmic slime more resembling strawberry jelly than human being. Good, now back away slowly, those things are only for grownups and those with intelligence greater than your average Muppet, which discounts you and most of the Red Sox Nation.

I am somewhat impressed that you have returned after your last Network Nightmare. I was fairly certain that your barely humanoid brain could not absorb the horror and simultaneously learn the lesson of the Golden Ratio. You have evolved to at least the level of a amoeba. Maybe after today's Nightmare you can start to use that prehensile appendage called a “thumb” for something other than texting when you should be listening to someone talk.

What is that you say, my little troglodyte? You wish to know more about The Mad Genius? How do I afford my nuclear accelerator and secret castle complete with a moat and sharks with laser beams? Let us just say that I do some consulting with some other unique individuals, people with powerful minds, unlike you. But that is a discussion for another day.

Take a look at the monitor. This is John. Pretty good looking guy, very preppy. Notice the popped collar: he has been hanging around Bahston Hahbah too long with his sail boat. And yes, those are Brooks Brothers: having the look and the looks, even with some intelligence, does not necessarily equate to having social skills. And even one bred in the blue blood tradition can be subject to making a mistake and turning down the long dark alley to a Networking Nightmare.

John is an engineer, like too many of our Nightmare victims. A Biomedical Engineer, who worked at Hahvahd when not hanging out on his sailboat. He is also the child of an engineer, so has the genetic inclination to have a synaptic disconnect between cranial and oral functions. The mouth opens before the rational brain gives input, leading to some highly entertaining moments. Highly entertaining to watch, if you are not involved that is. Remember the difference between a comedy and a tragedy: it is a comedy if it happens to you, it is a tragedy if it happens to me. John was highly comedic at times.

John was actually a good networker, for an engineer. Something about a one eyed man in the kingdom of the blind. As such Harvard often sent him to orthopedic conferences to gather information and vet out individuals, and his business partners (all PhD's in Biomedical Engineering or world renowned surgeons, so they can't balance a checkbook or tie their shoes but they can design, build, and implant life changing technologies.) made him the “face” of their start-up company. So John is at a conference and chatting up a CEO in a bar, and builds a decent rapport over a few hours and many malted hops beverages. There were large symbiotic possibilities for the two organizations, so the CEO (who closely resembled Rob Lowe's character in Wayne's World) agreed in principle to an alliance, subject to his CTO/co-founder's approval.

Next morning at nine-ish John is waiting in the exhibit hall with the CEO when a pretty outlandishly dressed individual walks in. His pants were high waters (not Nantucket Reds!) and had some sort of genetic engineering experiment on them. Or it was his breakfast. Either way, it was almost enough to get the secret government agents from Area 51 to quarantine them. And the lack of length on the pants revealed mismatched socks. With holes. But what really caught John's eye was the jacket.

Bright green. A cross between the Masters Jacket and the Lucky Charms leprechaun's outfit. Sort of shiny. With white shoes, straight out of a bad 1970's disco. Patent leather, shined to the point of looking like a Storm Trooper from the ankles down. The matching utility belt was included, and probably held a slide rule.

“Oh my god! Who the hell would wear something like that?!”

“John, that's my business partner.”

What sort of horrible things are going through your head at this moment my little networking Padwan? Horror? Shame? Dollar signs being flushed down the toilet at a rate that would make Washington envious? That maybe you should either shut up, or try to apologize and extricate yourself from the situation? What about John's response: “Well, it's obvious you don't dress him.”

Guess what two companies never did business together? Wrong! John had tapped into the CEO's unspoken body language and knew that he was less than thrilled with his partner's appearance. John also had the guts (or mental disconnect allowing him to speak the truth without a normal human filter, like a three year old does) to say what needed to be said, and that impressed the CEO. Instead of being scared of further offending, he went as far over the line as he could to make his point. And it worked. Maybe it was because of the mutual well accoutremented relationship or the breaking of alcoholic bread the night before, but the CEO and John had connected sufficiently for John to know that he would seal the deal or flame out with one statement. The Beau Brummel twins struck the deal.

John has since learned to keep his mouth relatively shut about how other people dress, even though it makes his blue blood curdle when brilliance is given too much fashion leeway. But with some guidance, that brilliance can be focused and be even more powerful. John's new business partner appears at conferences in a black suit with a fluorescent orange comic book tie that has the candlepower of an eighties hair metal band light show. With his back turned he looks like an extra in the Matrix, facing him is like looking into a surgical laser with its brightness and intensity, an apropos description of the man himself. And everyone remembers both the tie and the man for months afterwards: truly an effective use of differential visual marketing techniques. John just lets him for the most part be who and what he is, but helps to, ahem, influence the wardrobe choices a priori so as to not completely alienate the entire world with the CTO's almost satirical sartorial flair.

John was extremely lucky to escape this Networking Nightmare. You might not be, unless you learn how to extricate your lower appendages from your dental cavity. Do you have the mental and intestinal fortitude to accelerate to ramming speed when you make a mistake and start to fall into the darkness? If you are going to be in a train wreck, do you open the throttle all the way to at least make the explosion spectacular, and maybe be hurled beyond the carnage? Do you have the ability to ignore the common rules and jump through the small window of opportunity when it presents itself, or do you wait? The meek will inherit the earth, but only because the fast and smart have left it behind for them. And that is a Nightmare for another day...

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.

Published by THE NATIONAL NETWORKER Newsletter. All rights reserved. Subscribe Free - Click HERE.
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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: Clothes Make (or Break) the Man

A NOTE FROM THE CHAIRMAN: Nightmare on TNNW Street

Let me just start this week by thanking my friend, Mike McClintock of GaltMidas for assisting us with our Internet Explorer/Blogger technical issue. It seems to work now and we've gotten good feedback from our readers. Thanks Mike!

From technical nightmares, we move on to nightmares of a different kind.

Now many of you know that I am not a hype-y kind of fellow and I really enjoy straight forward communication with individuals as well as our subscribership at large. This, however, is just plain fun for me and I ask your indulgence for just a few months as I introduce THE MOST MYSTERIOUS (and spookiest) new writer to join the TNNW family this month...

...for best results, read this next missive in a dark room around midnight...candles are optional...

There I was...working late at night at our illustrious world headquarters, when I had just nodded off to sleep. Just then the phone rang. It was from a person identifying himself only as "The Mad Genius". In the background I could have sworn I heard thunder as well as pipe organ music.

He told me in a frighteningly-deranged voice that "the fates" had chosen our "humble publication" to be (after years of research) the instrument of his world-wide plan. When I asked for the details of his plan, he just told me that "all will be revealed in time", and then proceeded with a mad, diabolical cackle.

After a minute or so of his laughter, he then told me "what I needed to know for now". Apparently, he will be presenting a new monthly column called Nightmares of Networking, in which he will present only the most gruesome, horrifying, spine-tingling, blood-boiling, bone-chilling tales of networking gone horribly, horribly wrong.

He then told me that he would be "unleashing" his column every 4th week of the month and that I had no choice but to publish it. Beads of sweat formed on my brow as he told me he knew where I lived and that he wasn't even remotely scared of "that Castle guy". With a gulp I had no other choice but to say "oh...ok". He then preceded to tell me that "all was going according to his plan", upon which followed another two or three minutes of diabolical laughter, thunder and pipe-organ music until there was a loud click.

I urge only those readers with the strongest of constitutions to read his article at their own discretion and peril.

Who is he? Where does he come from? How does he get his graphic designer to render such a dramatic picture of him? Only time will tell...stay tuned.

So...my faithful TNNW readers, we have yet another writer that has joined us this month. For those keeping tally at home, The Mad Genius joins:
Leanne Hoagland-Smith - Working Within
Sandy McKee - Speak Aloha and Let Your Voice Be Heard
Wendy Kovitz - Networking Fun for the Introverted
John A. Lee - It All Starts With Us!

One other thing...when I do face-to-face networking and I want to avoid the nightmares, I love to go to The Ultimate Networking Event that we co-sponsor. If you're in and around the Greater Philadelphia area this Tuesday, July 28th, my friend Tom Camarda puts on a really great event and this week it will be at Rembrandt's in Philadelphia's famous Museum District. To find out what people are saying about his event, click here. To find out more, please click here.

Still more surprises to come. We've been keeping really busy around here. For more on that, please read this week's update.

As always, I look forward to Networking with you,

Adam

For more about Adam J. Kovitz, please click here.

Hire Adam to speak at your next conference or event by emailing info@thenationalnetworker.com.

Follow Adam on Twitter!

Published by THE NATIONAL NETWORKER Newsletter. All rights reserved. Subscribe Free - Click HERE.
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A NOTE FROM THE CHAIRMAN: Nightmare on TNNW Street

NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: EQ>>IQ

Nightmares of Networking with "The Mad Genius"

30 years ago Alice Cooper wrote “Welcome To My Nightmare.” Alice has been playing too much golf, because he has no clue of what a nightmare really is. I am The Mad Genius, and welcome to “Networking Nightmares” where you shall truly know terror.

For my IT friends out there, this is not a computer network or a Web 2.0 social site. This is real face to face human interaction that has turned into a train wreck and then a horror story. But unlike the over glossed and grossed Hollywood fiascoes (including Jar Jar Binks), Networking Nightmares is a true psychological thriller (sans cameo by Hitchcock) because these stories happen every day, everywhere. And if you are unlucky enough to stumble into one, these Nightmares could happen to you!

Now you are probably wondering who The Mad Genius is. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Seriously. I know how, and have the people and other means at my disposal to take care of yours. Your whereabouts and remains would be as mysteriously lost as Hoffa or Ricky Martin's career. You shall know when the time is right, but three things you can know now:

1. I have more degrees than a thermometer.

2. I am legally brain damaged.

3. I have been referred to as the Lex Luthor of my field.

Yes, as my friends in Boston say, I am “wicked smaht.” But high IQ does not always translate into success, often because of a low EQ, or Emotional Quotient. Which brings us to Bob.

What about Bob? Bob was a Fraternity Brother of mine, a second generation engineer at one of the oldest and most reputable engineering institute's on the planet. Bob also did not learn (since he was an engineer from birth) that you do not talk AT someone, or even TO them, but with them. Bob's attempts at pickups are legendary in their futility, or were until he changed and evolved by learning one simple ratio that the Mad Genius will reveal to you once you have seen the horror of these errors.

Bob is a genuinely nice guy, and would do almost anything for his friends and co-workers. He is hard working, and fairly good looking. He smokes, which is as attractive as chewing dip or rubbing manure all over yourself (and smells just as good overall. Great way to turn off 80% of the population while endearing yourself to the other 20% of addicts out there. Why not go inhale pitch-blend and road tar, it is quicker and will cost less?).

Bob was a great guy to work with and be around, until he started interacting with the fairer sex or authorities. Then it was as just fun to sit back and watch the show like Friday the 13th, especially when you wanted to yell “Don't go through that door!” But he'd go through that door, and then there was blood. A lot of blood. We almost felt bad for him. Almost, but it was sooo entertaining!

Once as a freshman Bob was at a mixer with the Dean of Students. Normally we tried to keep young Bob away from influential people because of his bad case of “Pedial/Oral Syndrome” aka “Foot in the Mouth Disease”. This time there was no one to run interference between Bob and the Powers that Be on Campus so the Dean was stuck, in a corner, listening to Bob diatribe on ice fishing outside of Buffalo in a shack with 90 year old men stinking of camphor and cheap whiskey. Luckily we saved the Dean before Bob got into the part about the skinny dipping, varicose veins, and CPR.

Another time, Bob went begging for a grade from a professor. And he did have a semi-logical case, but his sales and negotiation skills were, umm, let us say, inferior to a drunk and lobotomized Barbie Doll trying to explain the intricacies of the SALT II Treaty.. After an hour in the hot little office with Bob (who hadn't showered in a week), the Prof just gave up, essentially crying “I have no clue what you are talking about! You have proven to have at best absolutely no knowledge of the basics of thermodynamics, something that is so intuitively obvious that the most casual of observers on 15^th Street would understand. You exhibit a total lack of comprehension, comparable to a brain damaged sea cucumber! In the history of idiocy, you are clearly a Hall of Fame caliber nincompoop! But I will pass you Bob if you will just leave my office and de-stinkify yourself!” Bob got his “C”. OK, so maybe that time it worked.

One time, Bob was actually able to seal the deal with a girl. Was probably a combination of law of large numbers (ten thousand rejections before an acceptance), an alignment of the planets, and the fact that the girl was a nut-job. Like nutty enough to make a squirrel explode with endorphic enthusiasm. Bob told us later that they were lying there in his bed and she just kept going on and on about how much she loved bacon. For over an hour. At three a. m. And it was a surprise to him, because somehow he missed the flashing red lights and Robbie the Robot yelling “Danger! Danger Will Robinson!” And the thirty minute conversation on ketchup wasn't enough of a clue for Bob to realize that this was not the person to try to take home, unless home is Arkham. But maybe, just maybe, she held up the mirror for Bob to look at himself in.

After that he got much better. The changes were slow, and sometimes there were step backs (occasionally over a cliff), but Bob started to realize that in interactions, there is give and take, and in conversation at least is is better to be a taker than a giver.

Then a wise alumni informed the young engineer of the Golden Ratio in communication, the way to get what you want because people appreciate what a great conversationalist you are. And the ratio is this my little networkers: you have two eyes, two ears, and one mouth, and they are to be used in that proportion. Once I clued young Bob in on this, his successes exploded: the peach internships with a top financial company and with a Senator, the liaison position with the Trustees, eventually the Presidency of the student ambassadors on campus. Today Bob is the head salesman for a distillery, having unique success because as much as he loves to talk about his product, he watches and listens to understand what to talk about to his consumers to get maximum efficacy and make them feel like they are in power.

Not too bad for a high IQ low EQ engineer with a smoking addiction: two eyes plus two ears plus one mouth yields success.

Thus ends our Nightmare for this month my humanoid little friends. That beeping sound may be your alarm clock waking you, calling you back to your little reality. Or it may be awakening you to something more, a world you never knew that is bigger and bolder, filled with Network Nightmares you can only start to comprehend. We shall see, we shall see....

For more secrets, you may visit the TNNW Bio of "The Mad Genius", if you dare.

*******
Posted to THE NATIONAL NETWORKER (TNNW). All rights reserved.

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NIGHTMARES OF NETWORKING: EQ>>IQ