It’s been over a year since I’ve blogged. I’ve been having a tough time shaking the sense of guilt I feel about using my time blogging (for leisure) versus reading one of a myriad business, productivity, news, financial, technology, etc. articles at my fingertips courtesy of the web. I almost feel as though there’s so much to consume, I ought to consume as much as I can. But I can’t deny the awesome way I feel when I click “publish” on a draft. And then there’s the even better way I feel when friends ask me about my next post because they genuinely enjoy what I have to say and/or how I say it.
So I’m taking another step off the curb.
The other day I stumbled upon a clip of Michael Jackson’s hologram performance at the Billboard Music Awards. And when I say stumbled I mean I was overwhelmed by reposts on Facebook. I’m a big Michael Jackson fan – I literally still get a little faklempt every time I listen to “Off The Wall,” my personal favorite, because I tend to drift off thinking about how sad a life it was he led, and then selfishly, how much more we could have had from him had he had some help along the way. But this hologram performance, the 15 seconds I saw of it, was weird. Weird in a bad way. It wasn’t Michael. It was an idea of Michael. Did this capture who he was a performer? Would his fans be comfortable embracing this gimmick? For a man who was seemingly never comfortable in his own skin, this seemed the ultimate in exploiting that. And I can’t imagine anyone who loved him wanting to see this. Because he was an incredible performer. And this did not do him justice. And I don’t think anyone would say otherwise.
I recently posted to Facebook looking for recommendations of surgeons (not for me). And while I got what I was looking for, I also got the added bonus of connecting with folks I hadn’t been in communication with for some time. One of my friends shot me a note with a recommendation and a “how’re you doing?”, “what’re you up to?” We traded emails and the conversation ultimately shifted to a former friend of mine, who was actually the way we’d been connected. As it turns out, he now is a former friend of my friend as well. And he was no longer a friend to either of us because we both felt we’d been wronged by him.
In the time since the demise of our friendship, there’ve been variations of the story that have emerged. And while history takes its toll on the story’s accuracy, one thing remains, and was reinforced to me this day. For the second time, I had a friend tell me they heard his story and didn’t believe it for one second, less because he’s a shyster (although there may be veracity to that), and more because I am a good guy. A man of integrity. Someone who would never lie, cheat or steal. Someone who honors the words he speaks and the commitments he makes. And this is super important to me because that’s how people know me. They can rely on me, trust me and never have to doubt my intention.
How do people know you?
They say don’t lie, because it’s easier to remember the truth (less to remember). But how about because it’s the right thing to do. Honor the truth, who you are and what you speak. And people will see that in you. And it’s a great feeling. World… it’s on.