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I’ve got a bunch of new subscribers this week. Welcome and thanks for signing up. The content varies from week to week, but the structure is the same: I carry on for 500-1000 words about things I’m fixated on. If that bores you, I follow it up with a list of some good things I found online (this week is heavy in that department). And then I ask my readers a question – sometimes silly, sometimes serious – and share answers anonymously the following week. There will be typos when I'm too impatient to have someone proofread this.
Last week’s email included a story about Ranking Roger at a Chicago club called Metro. I got some really nice feedback:
"shit girl, sobbing all over again. loved him so hugely since seeing them play in 1983 (age 12). your description of his face is perfect. xoxoxoxoxox"
"I think this is some of your best writing that I’ve read."
"I absolutely loved this one. Very sad this week, been reading all the articles on him, watching old beat and general public videos, and the beat’s been blaring on Spotify in the office over the last couple days. A very lovely letter, I’m sure he’d love it. Thank you for sharing."
Anyway. One reader forwarded it to a friend, who replied with “I was at that show, but she got the venue wrong. It was at the Vic, not at Metro.” They’d attached a photo of their ticket stub. People make Twitter jokes about showing/bringing receipts, but here was the real thing.
As the coffee started to kick in that morning: Did I screw up? (10 years in Catholic school means that’s ALWAYS my first thought #thankyoujesus.) Is my memory shot to hell? I wonder what other ticket stubs that person has. Or what my friends have saved. Imagine the pre-internet memories, yellowed with age, stuffed into shoeboxes in basements and garages around the country. There’s no Facebook event archive to search, and precious little from those days is available on YouTube. What if I started something? Like a blog, using ticket stubs and flyers, where I could write what I remember, and then other people could correct me and/or share their own memories? Imagine who might come out of the woodwork that way.
The 100-day project started yesterday. It’s this annual online thing where hundreds of thousands of people do something creative for like half an hour a day. Drawing, painting, writing, photography, crafts, whatever gets them going. I did it last year, documenting (almost) 100 things I love about San Francisco as a way to force myself to look beyond all the things here that make me angry and sad. I wasn’t planning on doing the project again this year – until I got that email.
Hence a new blog. Which may be wheel reinvention, may suck, and may fizzle out after a few weeks. Or which maybe could grow into something bigger, depending on who it reaches, and cover other events and genres of music. Either way it could be a lot of fun.
HR and Hooters
Last week a reader asked, “What do you do when teams at your firm think that this place (basically a Hooters) is a perfectly fine place to conduct a team meeting?”
I’d say pull a Scarface, but in case that’s not an option, here are some responses:
"First thoughts, because this makes me want to vomit: If you are fool enough to be FB friends with these people (or any co-workers, really), publicly out them on FB for their SOs to see. If HR won't/can't help, a serious public shaming needs to take place. Though, from my experience with HR, they would penalize the whistleblower 20fold. And if you are expected to be part of this meeting, boycott. Cite being subjected to indecency. And copy your complaint to a VP in the company. Preferably a female VP, if that exists in your sphere and that won't get you fired, too."
"1. Carefully assess the political situation and the likelihood of retaliation (and tolerance for an unplanned job change). 2. Is the writer close enough to others on the team who may support a statement that this is unacceptable? If so, engage them for backup and go to the team lead/decision-maker together. 3. Be an absolute stick in the mud and don't shy away from it. Pick your approach. I'd be bitchy and say you can conference me in but no way in hell am I planning to work from a low-rent Playboy club. No disrespect to the Bunnies and Hooter gals. I might even impugn their manhood if they double-down. If they insist it has nothing to do with the boobies, then they can find another location that's not offensive/excluding. 4. Are there corporate policies that can be pulled out and referenced? Is the work itself sensitive, protected IP, client data? Why is it acceptable at all to work from any public establishment? The optics of working from a bar are not good, whether it's Fridays, Hooters, or a strip club. Remove the misogyny and it still stinks. 5. Bring in a TV, spend the restaurant money on NCAA web access, etc. and work from an appropriate office conference room. 6. Are there senior women or woke males at this organization who the writer can go to and ask for advice or coaching on handling this situation? Is it a large organization with a diversity leader? I would engage someone like this in the fight."
Good stuff
For next week
This will come as no surprise to people who know me well: I am my own harshest critic. Maybe it’s impostor syndrome, maybe it’s how I was raised. The “why” isn’t important. I’m way more interested in how to address it. So I’m wondering if other people have the same issues. Is there a big gap between how you think of yourself and how your friends/family think of you? And if you’ve managed to “fix” that, how did you do it? Therapy? Looking in a mirror and doing affirmations? Maybe you've got (or learned) something that can really help the rest of us.
You can reply directly to this email and as always, anything I share will be anonymous.
Pass it on
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