Dead Ink Vinyl

• I have grown so unhappy programming Java that I’m willing to turn away opportunities to advance my career from interested employers at amazing companies who want me to continue programming in Java.
• I dislike JavaScript more than Java, but find that because I’m using JavaScript to directly enhance the user’s experience, it’s a smidgen more palatable.
• I find that watching my baby girl identify goals (“I want that toy over there”), identify the hurdles in achieving those goals (“that’s too far away”), and address those hurdles (“pulling on the baby blanket moves the toy closer”) is far more rewarding than anything I’ve done in my professional life.
• I can lose weight without being miserable.

The very first article I ever read from Seth Godin was The world is actually not flat, it’s sort of lumpy. In it, Seth drives home the point that viewing customer interaction as a cost to be controlled rather than an opportunity to build a relationship is self-defeating (emphasis added):

…reducing the cost of an interaction with a consumer isn’t usually the point. The real win is when a service person does the difficult work of solving problems and the essential work of connecting with people as individuals… every single interaction is an opportunity to do marketing, not a chance to cut costs.

I was reminded of this insight when I read his April 9th article asking Who Answers the Phone? In the article, Seth notes:

The new rules mean that the most valuable marketing event is almost always an inbound phone call.

The day after I read Seth’s article, my wife picked our baby’s pediatrician based—in part—on the conversation she had with the lady who answered the phone at the doctor’s office.

We had expected to have another month to visit doctors’ offices, interview candidates, and mull over our decision, but my wife’s preeclampsia forced us to abbreviate our process. While in the hospital, my wife sought after and received several recommendations, including asking the nurses about the pediatricians they use for their children. Those recommendations became our short list for picking a doctor. My wife made her time in the hospital extra-productive by calling the doctors on the list. She was so impressed by the lady who answered the phone for the first doctor that my wife decided she didn’t need to search any farther—we had our pediatrician!

As luck would have it, while we were in the elevator on our way to visit our baby yesterday we bumped into the doctor my wife selected. We stole a few minutes of his time to introduce ourselves and talk to him about our child. He impressed us both with his personality, composure, willingness to spend some time talking to us despite clearly being on his way somewhere else, and by his asking all the right questions about our baby’s progress.

My wife took the opportunity to tell him that it was the excellent conversation she’d had with one of his office staff that made picking his practice an easy choice. He was grateful for that feedback, and we were grateful for the opportunity to speak with him.

The real win is when a service person does the difficult work of solving problems and the essential work of connecting with people as individuals.

Perfectly said.

In my conversations with other fathers, many have said that the moment when impending parenthood “became real” for them was when they first heard their baby’s heartbeat. That wasn’t it for me. I knew the baby was real, and I knew that my life was going to change forever as soon as the stick showed two lines all those months ago.

For me, the abstract became concrete for me only today. It happened during a conversation with my wife while we were slashing everything except the core essentials off of our “getting ready for baby” list. This is it. This is the real thing. In a month I’ll be a father.