What Connects Us in Social Media: On Puppets, Davenports and Other Stuff

I had a strange memory return today.

On twitter (you know that micro-blogging thing where everyone talks at once?), a writer friend I follow, @copylicious, was having a bad day.

You see, the Bay Bridge from San Francisco to Oakland was closed. So she couldn't get home.

And the only word was that they would be sending "updates on when people might get the next update."

And, on top of it, it was her birthday!

And she had not one, but four writing deadlines staring her in the face.

So you see, she really was having a bad day, when she blurted (tweeted):

"Why don't they allow puppets in high-level meetings?"

Well, that started people talking.

"Yeah, why don't they allow puppets, anyway?" said @wildheartqueen.

"Did somebody say a meeting with puppets?" said @starshyne, "Sign me up!"

And so it started. Our puppet stories. Now, with twitter names like @copylicious, @wildheartqueen, @starshyne, and @CatsEyeWriter (that's me), you'd kind of expect it, right?

 

But wait. Why don't they allow puppets in high-level meetings?

My puppet story was begging to be told. So I told it. On twitter. The condensed story, that is.

Here's the slightly longer version:

Several years ago I was manager of writing resources for an international nonprofit that had 5,000+ life-saving relief and development projects in 126 countries around the world. Projects to bring clean water to villages. Health care. Agricultural tools. Schools and classrooms.

I worked from the headquarters in L.A.

It was a high-stress job. Tense deadlines. 14-hour days. I traveled to West Africa to film a documentary and got malaria. Survived 130-degree days and a sandstorm in a village chief's hut in the Sahara Desert.

When I returned, I was a changed person. And exhausted. And really needing a "normal" job again.

Of course, I was afraid to tell my boss, especially after having just returned from this month-long trip, which was my class in International Development 101.

Then I remembered. Bob and I had just been to a silly small-town carnival, where he won an adorable purple furry hand puppet for tossing a ring that landed on milk bottle lid. You know that carnival game. The one it's almost impossible to win? Oh, wait. Every game at a carnival is impossible to win.

We named him Pépe.

I didn't have the nerve to quit my job just like that. But I had a feeling I could get Pépe to do it for me.

We went to a restaurant by the Santa Anita racetrack called The Brown Derby. Just the three of us. Me, my boss Dori and Pépe, who I kept in my purse through lunch. After the meal, when the coffee had arrived, I pulled him out and he managed to say, in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, "I'm so sorry but I think it's time to leave this job."

Moment of silence. Okay, huge moment of silence.

Then Dori burst out laughing.

Pépe had broken the tension so we could have a conversation. I talked about how honored I was to have been selected from more than 200 applicants for the job. How much I had learned about myself and the world. How I would love to stay involved as a consultant (which ended up happening).

We connected, even though I had just quit my job.

 

How social media connects us

Yesterday on twitter, I found a way to connect. Over puppets. Again.

I found like-minded people who also loved puppets and weren't afraid to use them. Other weird people. Like me.

Plus, I recently connected with another twitter friend. The uber-talented and very cool @sparkyfirepants. He's a designer and illustrator who lives in the mountains of Oregon and raises alpacas.

I wrote an article for Biznik called FAQ Page Lessons from the Encyclopedia Man. It was all about overcoming objections in the Q & As on your website's FAQ page, so you can move prospects farther along the path to purchase.

@sparkyfirepants read the article and sent this message (publicly) to me on twitter:

@CatsEyeWriter: Enjoying your article. One of my favorite words is "davenport."

I had started my article with a scene from my childhood, where the door-to-door salesman was trying his best to sell my mom a new set of Encyclopedia Britannicas. I used the word "davenport" because that's what we called our couch.

I explained that to @sparkyfirepants (Don't you just love his name?).

He tweeted back:

@CatsEyeWriter: No, really, I love it. I have a story to tell you when we meet sometime. A funny davenport story.

 Another connection.

Now, mind you, I've known Sparky Firepants (real name, David Billings) for almost two years, but we've never met in person.

But I feel like I know him. We can talk about business, family and weird words like "davenport." How cool is that?

So much is written today about being authentic. Don't hide your uniqueness. Don't be afraid to show the real you.

But if the real you is someone who likes to make puppets talk, is that okay?

If you like to form bonds and connections with people by making them laugh, is that okay?

Once we started talking about puppets on Twitter, there was a separation. The people who definitely believe in puppets and story and magic. And the people who think it's a little weird.

We puppet people actually attracted each other.

What do you think? Do you attract people like you—on your blog, on Twitter, on LinkedIn? And if so, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

How has social media connected you with others? Do you sometimes connect over things that have nothing to do with business. 

Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments section.

 

 

Comments

[Kelly Parkinson]

Wow, sometimes the silliest stories are the most moving. This is such a sweet post. I have to say, your story about quitting with a puppet completely cheered me up yesterday. I love thinking that somewhere in the world, SOMEONE might be using a hand-puppet to have an awkward, difficult conversation. And I love that all of these people I already adored already adore puppets. We just didn't know it. BTW, I'm back home again today, courtesy of the Golden Gate Bridge!

[Charlotte]

Yay puppets!

I think they should not only be allowed, but _required_ in meetings. :D

[Mark V. McDonnell]

At high-level meetings, puppets are commonly found at the head of the table, in my experience.

[Judy Dunn]

@Kelly (AKA @copylicious): Who would have thought? One innocent question could get us all going like that? When I taught first grade (okay, I've had about 8 different lives so far), I had a rascally puppet with an attitude propped up in the corner of the classroom. When a kid had a problem with another kid (someone took something away, a push/shove incident, etc.) the puppet would go on the hand. Somehow, they were able to communicate their feelings better when it was coming from the puppet). It was very cool to watch. Oh. And glad you made it back home.

@Charlotte: Definitely. Just think what creative ideas could come out if you didn't have to risk failure. "Hey. It wasn't MY idea. It was the puppet's."

@Mark: Yes, I've been in a few of those board rooms myself. :-)

[David]

You know, I completely missed that puppet coversation because we're on the road.

The connection thing. Yes! I love the idea that if I say something on my blog or on Twitter, some people will connect and say, "Yes! We are from the same planet!"

The ones who turn away because it's too weird, well... that's cool. We probably wouldn't have created anything really fun together anyway.

My puppet's name is Helmut. Someday I'll introduce you.

[Judy Dunn]

Okay David. First a funny davenport story and now your puppet Helmut. He's German, right?

I think you're right. The ones who we naturally attract by being our crazy selves are the ones who are more likely to like working (and playing) with us.

So, we're developing a nice group of puppet people here. Cool.

[Carl Coddington]

I hate to be a downer but I really don't like puppets. Just the mere thought of them makes me shake in fear. I blame The Twilight Zone.

Hmmm.. Now you got me thinking. I wonder what would connect me with others in social media.

Oh yeah! Go Yankees!!!

[Judy Dunn]

You're a quick learner, Carl. : -)

Connect with people who love the Yankees. That would be half of the world, right? I think you're on to something.

[Paul Simon]

I thought the Brown Derby is in Hollywood. Well, no matter, the puppet story is well, can I say cute given the business aspect of using it? ... We went to "Wicked" the other night and all I could think about was "it's not easy being green." Go, Kermit!

[Judy Dunn]

Paul,

I know! This one was called The Brown Derby, too. It was the first thing I thought, too—that they copied the Hollywood restaurant. But, being right next to the racetrack, they had a lot of horse racing photos on the wall with jockeys wearing those flat derby caps.

I'm not sure I would have used the puppet if I didn't really, really know my boss well. She had a quirky sense of humor and I knew by the kind of movies we both liked, that she'd react the way she did. I was quite a bit younger and was truly dreading the "quitting scene."

[Bruce Colthart (@bccreative)]

Great puppet moment with your boss Judy – very entertaining (and educational in that I didn't know that (in Africa) part of your interesting backround!
Puppet people are weird, yes, but very very interesting characters. Like Bob on the old TV series 'Soap' and John Malkovich in 'Being John Malkovich' among others...
Oh well, thanks for this delightful diversion, and the reminder to really engage.

[Judy Dunn]

Thanks for reading, Bruce. I'm always honored when you take the time to leave a comment. I don't have occasion to talk about my experience in relief and development and my trip to Africa much. It doesn't come up very often in conversations about web copywriting and social media marketing.

One thing. I think you and Carl are thinking ventriloquist. I remember that scary episode on Twilight Zone and the TV show Soap. They were both ventriloquist's dummies.

Close to a puppet, but not quite the same. A cousin, maybe. That would have been quite a thing to pull off in that restaurant, wouldn't it? Pulling out a life-sized dummy and throwing my voice without moving my lips? On second thought, maybe I should have done THAT. : -)

[Betsy Talbot]

Judy, this was the most interesting post about social media I've read in a very long time. I love the way you tell a story!

[Judy Dunn]

Wow, Betsy. Coming from such an experienced blogger as you, that means a whole bunch to me. Thank you for stopping by.