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How can I help you today?

October 21, 2010 By 4 Comments

I went to a networking event yesterday. I had no agenda whatsoever: I’m not looking for work, I’m not looking to hire … I just went to network.

I’m naturally extroverted and enjoy going up to complete strangers. I’m happy to start the conversation.

How can I help you today?

We’ve all read how people like to talk about themselves. I’ve found conversation starters like “So, tell me about your business” to be particularly effective. I follow up, “So, if I were able to help you today, what would you ask of me?”

What’s more, it’s fun to actually mean it.

When I ask, “How can I help you,” it’s more than a ploy to get the conversation to come back to me. I actively enjoy thinking through my mental Rolodex, wondering who I might be able to put together.

Invariably, though, the recipient feels as though you’ve listen to them. They want to reciprocate and genuinely ask, “So, how can I help you?” And now, armed with some information about them, can tailor my response appropriately.

Insta-help

In each of the past two months, I met someone, moved on, and two or three connections later find a match. It’s awfully gratifying to introduce the two parties and see first-hand something come from nothing.

Today I visited the website of a startup Web team and took 10 minutes to critique it. She replied,

I can’t thank you enough for this critique!  I have been planning to revamp the website soon – based on your advice, I think we need a pretty major overhaul.  I really appreciate all of this advice!  I’ll let you know when the new site is up.

We are really good at computers and code, but we are definitely not marketers, so we are really grateful that you have taken the time to look over this and offer such thoughtful suggestions. If there is ever anything we can do to help you out, please
let us know!

I also sent two other people’s contact information to a recruiter and a potential hiring manager.

Give.

My take on networking? Give. Give freely and often. It’s good karma. And something may come of it … for them … maybe even for you.

So, how can I help YOU today?

Photo credit: JanRohwedder

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Long-lost friend stays lost

August 8, 2009 By 3 Comments

Months ago, I found my friend Michele Wolf using this blog.

Encouraged, I went on a hunt for a childhood friend named Bobby. Bobby and I used to play on 74th Street in Brooklyn, New York. I considered him among my closest friends in grammar school.

I called friends in Bay Ridge looking for him. No one had any information. I have a friend who does private investigations from time to time look for him. She found nothing. I believed he was dead.

God bless her, Christine Ness from my grammar school (we’re having a reunion on September 13, I’m flying in from Seattle to go to it) started finding everyone on Facebook. And finally, a mutual friend’s sister put me in touch with a one of his relatives on Facebook.

I sent a message. Months passed. Then he answered and – just like that – I had Bobby’s phone number.

Mr. Slate!

I called Bobby this week. Thrilled, I heard him pick up.

“Bob?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Mr. Slate!”

Ridiculous, I know, but 27 or so years ago in high school, we had a gym teacher named Mr. Slater who was out sick one day. It was announced to us, as was every announcement, on a neatly typed and posted correspondence on the Main Office showcase. There was a missing “r.” That’s all it took for two immature teens to say “Mr. Slate” again and again over the course of weeks. I still think of the funny, slurred way we said it. And it still makes me laugh.

“It’s Mr. Slate!” I shouted out gleefully.

“Click” came the abrupt response. Bob had hung up on me.

Maybe I confused him? He didn’t remember Mr. Slater? It has been a quarter century, after all. Maybe he thought it was a crank call.

I tried again and went immediately to voicemail. “Hi, this is Joe Hage – Joey Hage from 76th Street,” I clarified. “I’m sorry if I scared you away there. I had said ‘Mr. Slate,’ you know, like our old joke? Anyway, I got your number from John. It’s been a really long time and I think of you now and again. I’d love to get in touch with you again. Call back when you have a moment.”

I wasn’t surprised when the phone did not ring.

Try, try again?

I’m home today, all alone. Beth and the kids took their annual trip to Cape Cod where Beth’s best friend has a summer house. They chit-chat. Karen’s kids play with my kids. It’s Beth’s time, not really a trip for me.

I read “Crazy Love” (great book) cover to cover. I slept late (since the dog got me up – and kept me up – at 3:30 a.m.). I thought I’d give Bob another try.

I called. No answer. I hung up.

15 minutes later, the phone rang. It was Bob’s number.

“Hello?” I started, thinking anything more aggressive would result in the same outcome.

“Hello? You called this number a few minutes ago?”

“Yes,” and in as clear a speaking voice as I could offer (so there would be no confusion),”it’s Joe Hage.”

Click.

I don’t for a moment think he’s mad at me. I guess he doesn’t want to connect with anyone from his past.

Why look in the first place?

Why was I looking? I don’t know. I guess I’m sentimental.

I used to think of Bob as a best friend. I remember helping him get through Xaverian (he had a problem with Senior English, as I recall), and remember being happier seeing him get his diploma than I was getting my own.

I still say “Mr. Slate!” to myself from time to time. And if I wear corduroys on a cold wintry day, I think of the ridicule he got from our band of friends about “Bobby Jeans” – these cords he had with unusually wide treads.

I rejoiced to learn he was still alive. I heard his voice. I can be content with that.

questionmark Have you ever looked for an old friend?

What happened you found him or her?
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Do more than *get through the year.*

January 4, 2009 By 13 Comments

Between a History Channel program about the deadly sin of sloth and prayerful reflection today at church, I had a bit of a revelation about 2009.

Hear me out.

Like many, I’m anxious about the year. What will the economy bring? I know people looking for work. Others in business for themselves, trying to make ends meet. Still others with jobs who will do more with less.

I picked up an expression from someone a few weeks back, “Flat is the new up.” It’s ironic, and it’s got me in this mindset that if I can just get through the year, the economy will turn around and we’ll be fine.

Doing more

I thought today: Just getting through an entire year seems like a bit of a waste. Would I be content if, a year from now, I kept everything as it was?

The people around me need more than that.

More than ever in my adult life, I think, people are going to need me. They’re going to need my strength, my humor, my intelligence. They’re going to need my help. And, knowing the way my mind works, I’ll only be available to them if I have my house in order: my job, my family — my head!

What I plan to do about it

That History Channel show about sloth came at just the right time. Among other things, it talked about the little procrastinations that add up and rob me of my time and energy. And with my prayers for strength ahead of what could be a difficult year, I realized: I need to be ready.

Ready to help. To be there for other people. To network for them and present opportunities for them. And I can be ready if I stay focused and work hard and smart.

Perhaps this year my resolution is to stay alert. Maybe cut back on some of the time-wasters I enjoy for relaxation. I’m going to need that time when someone comes knocking. They’re going to need me. And I’m going to help.

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I don’t typically get this philosophical on my blog. Did this message strike a chord with you?

Please, leave a comment.

Joe

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The Art of Living

August 9, 2008 By 4 Comments

Every once in a while, someone enters your life and alters your path.

Are you aware enough to know when it’s happening? (It might be happening right now, with this blog posting.)

Shyam Nair altered my path. We met at StockPot, Campbell’s fastest growing division at the time, when I was Director of Marketing there. We made the best soup I have ever tasted for foodservice and retail distribution.

Shyam and I became fast friends after he spoke at a leadership forum we had.

In a thick accent I hardly understood, he gushed about the potential he saw at the company. Then, slowing down, he apologized. “I know I’m hard to understand when I get so excited!” I laughed and sought him out after the meeting.

One day we went for a walk during lunch and I was grousing about some such thing. Shyam put up his hand and said, “Joe, I’m not going to listen to one more complaint until you take a course with The Art of Living.” (Watch this MSNBC video.) He explained it would bring me some peace and help me meditate through my dissatisfaction.

Hey, I’m from Brooklyn. There’s no way I’m taking that class, I thought. I like to sleep. There’s no way I can close my eyes and not sleep. I don’t have the patience to meditate. I’m not sitting in the lotus position and I don’t believe any of that stuff. If it works for you, great, but it’s not for me.

“You will take this class,” he said, undeterred.

“Even if I have to pay the $350 myself.”

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Everything happens for a reason

March 15, 2008 By 2 Comments

Mom said, “Everything happens for a reason.” Usually when things went wrong.

It was post-9/11 and I lived in Manhattan. Nobody was hiring.

In my desperation, I took a job as a Financial Advisor. All of a sudden, every human I encountered was a prospect. I couldn’t live that way and quit six weeks later.
p1015804-cropped
My new COBRA coverage paid $40,000 for three rounds of in-vitro fertilization that produced our Lucas (pictured). If I hadn’t been absolutely desperate for work, I never would have joined that company, never would have had that medical coverage, and probably would have one boy today, Luke’s older brother, Zachary.

In 2007, I unexpectedly lost my job at Safeco. It was frustrating, but I looked at my Lucas and knew it happened for a reason.

Maybe, during my month off, I was meant to find Biznik and meet Paul Medrzycki. Maybe I was meant to help launch his Life Changing Credit Company to help people restore their credit and afford better things in life. And maybe as the new Director of Marketing Communications at Cardiac Science I’ll save a life by getting a defibrillator someplace it otherwise may not have been.

Maybe I’ll find out one day. Maybe not. It’s ok either way.

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Fast forward six months: Liberty Mutual bought Safeco. If I were still there, I’d be out of a job soon in a much tougher economy. Everything happens for a reason.

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