Dino Baskovic Can't Lose

The idea came to me by "freak" accident (ahem) this morning when my better half accidentally posted something about rooster hair to my Twitter account. Her laptop is on the fritz so we've both been sharing mine. This means having to sign in and out of our respective Facebook profiles and such whenever we swap the Mac. Sure, we each have our own mobile devices but sometimes you just want to type on a keyboard. Regardless, all week we've been accidentally posting to each others' accounts. Harmless, but it made me wonder...

For the sake of science, would you entrust the keys to your online persona to another soul, and vice versa, even if only for 24 hours? Would you be willing to try?

Sure, you'd have to find someone who would agree to go along, figure out all the privacy and security stuff, all of that. Goes without saying, and perhaps easier said than done. But once you got past that, could you imagine blogging on your lab partner's behalf while they tweeted on yours? And could this work for businesses as well as buddies? Would you make it clear to both sets of audiences, and why or why not?

So many variables to consider, I know. Aimee and I may give it a go, if not just to mess with our in-laws:

[My wife, to her mom, pretending to be me]
"No, Aimee made it clear in no uncertain terms that you wanted the girls all summer. We're just grabbing a bite to eat on the way to your house. No need to help me unload the truck. I pretty much brought their entire wardrobes. But they will want to eat again the moment I arrive and they are already screaming 'Nana!' and 'New toys!'"

[Me, to Aimee's tweeps]
"Screw this green organic vegan crap. The 'Kind Diet' my ass. I need cow, NOW. #winning"

Okay, maybe not to those extremes. In fact, forget the prank factor. Drum up a deal where you guest host/star/chair with someone you know, just for one single day. Trading places on Posterous. Whatever.

Plausible? Practical? Possible?

Please share if you intend to try this at home (or work). But please kids, do not try this at home without consulting a physician, human resources, a law office or a priest. I can't be held responsible if you lose the kids or the farm, especially when you mess with moms.

You can read this blog post any time. Donate to Japan relief efforts now. 

South by Southwest was a strange distraction last week. Strange in that I didn't physicallly attend, yet it was very top of mind for me. Between last week's tragic events in the Pacific, and sending a first-timer from my staff to Austin, I couldn't think of much else.

I'll address Japan in a bit. First, let me introduce you to Sri (pronounced 'SREE'). She has been a proven part of the public relations department with me at Amway for many years, and is a trusted advisor to fellow PR peers across our global markets. Recently, she expressed an interest in joining our social media team. While Sri isn't a "techie" in the traditional sense (whatever that means), she is soaking up the social-media scene like a sponge. And talk about full immersion. Face it, SXSW may as well be BUD/S school for the Web 2.0 set.

Still, I was somewhat reluctant to send Sri to SXSW, fearing she may be overwhelmed by the intense atmosphere, aggressive networking and know-it-all attitudes. Sri is more than capable of mingling at huge, glitzy events like this, but I naively thought she might in over her head.

I can't tell you how glad how wrong I was. Sri had some helpful travel companions from headquarters and made some dazzling connections of her own. We prepped her on some nifty Twitter apps, a Flip and behold, she was off and broadcasting in no time. In fact, she joked how sore her thumbs became trying to keep up with presenters (BlackBerry thumb has long replaced Nintendo thumb, agreed?). But what blew me away was this observation Sri made on Facebook:

"Want to see REAL Diversity? Go to SXSW. People are not judged by their skin colors, geeky looks, the way they dress, language they speak, or 'the usual' factors. They are judged by what their contribute to the society however small. All of the talks about interactive world may not stick in my head, but I learn something that will outlast the digital and mobile technology."

Sri is an avid shutterbug, and was also able to capture that smack-to-the-back-of-your-head sentiment in the above photo. Between seminars and soirees, she even encountered this gentlemen (pictured below) along 6th Street: 

"A portrait of poverty and homelessness where the world's brightest gather. In the world of plenty, poverty still exists. I wished to honor the dignity of the man by not sharing. But a friend told me that I put a face in the issue of poverty. And if I didn't share, who would? What can we do? I do not have the answer to that."

Stunning. We have an incredible responsibility as communicators, crafting messages and engaging with people in ways that enlighten, inspire and challenge. Amidst the world's brightest, as Sri indicated, are the digital tapestries and tools with which to reshape civilization as we know it. I sent Sri to SXSW thinking she would come back having learned the fundamental skills necessary to master modern media. Instead, Sri sent me straight back to school. I, and so many of us that proclaim ourselves to be agents of change, have much to learn from persons such as Sri.

As for Japan, it was infuriating reading so many self-serving hashtags coming out of the conference (and Charlie Sheen, and anything else) while truly serious matters of humanity unfolded before the eyes of the world. I wondered whether SXSW would at all harness the collective mindshare that had descended upon the Lone Star State to aid in earthquake and tsunami relief efforts in some meaningful way. They did, sort of. And I'm sorry, but it's pathetic. Barely $23K of a $30K target goal raised, as of this blog post? Appalling. There were bar tabs bigger than that.

I have yet to attend SXSW, yet one day will. I hope to make the most of my experience, meet many of the great minds I read and follow, and apply what I learn to what I do both professionally and personally. But based on some of the pushback I've read as of late, I'll be sure to scour the schedule for the truly worthwhile venues, the ones featuring people like Sri. Otherwise, heck, I'll just go hang out with that guy on 6th Street.

Now stop reading and help Japan.

Earlier Wednesday morning, he or she was tweeting on behalf of the Chrysler account. As I and many social-media pros do, this person probably had multiple desktop applications open on their screen, or maybe one app that fed multiple Twitter feeds—one of those being a personal account. One misfired tweet laden with the F-bomb, followed by immediate panic and what must have been some horribly uncomfortable phone calls, and by the afternoon said staffer was severed from said interactive agency as confirmed by the automaker.

(Read the offending tweet here, which was first RT'ed by @tverma29 and later reported on by Jalopnik, Mashable, The Detroit Free Press and even HuffPo before it was later regurgitated by USA Today, CNET, Autoblog and other outlets. For the record, @tverma29 has a name, and Trisha wryly gives her take on her personal blog.)

Everybody has an opinion on this incident, whether the punishment fit the crime, if one could call it that. Did Chrysler and New Media Strategies do the right thing, the only thing to do in this case and terminate the employee, or should they have taken a page from last month's Dogfish-Red Cross case? I'm torn, to be honest. I see every side of this, from Chrysler needing to act swiftly to protect its consumer brand to NMS needing to preserve the agency-client relationship at all costs, to coming to the defense of the pour soul at the center of it all. Hey, that could one day be someone from my social-media team. That could be me.

Sure mistakes happen, though for as forgiving a society as we claim to be, we are first-most cold and unforgiving, all too quick to cast the first stone, calling "OUT!" at the first strike. That's not a complaint, that's just reality. Face it, dropping the F-bomb, even accidentally, was a career-limiting move well before the web. I am a bit perplexed that NMS won't so much as acknowledge the incident on their website, blog, Twitter or Facebook. But I know all too well how that can go. Imagine the conversation: "Utter so much as a hint of this on any of your sites and we'll lawyer up." Maybe that's an unfair assumption, and perhaps both agency* and client are working up some sort of joint mea culpa, potentially to pre-empt any of those year-end business blunder lists.

But what of this mystery offender in question, alleged critic of Motor City traffic and current jobseeker? I don't really care what was going through his or her mind at the time, and I'm sure this person will land on both feet just fine. How, exactly, is what most intrigues me. Will we see this character at a conference any time soon, recounting that crazy day in March when their world turned upside down in a matter of minutes? Can they parlay this into a guest spot on Freakonomics Radio or a better gig or whatever golden egg gets laid before them, being a little older, a bit wiser?

Or will it all be a waste, just another cautionary tale for community managers to consider while a would-be web genius dons a smock at Starbucks? Because that would make me one angry f#@$%!...

* Interestingly enough, one of my Twitter followers pointed out that NMS seems to like a loose tongue.

That was my key takeaway from my self-imposed Facebook moratorium last month. Get a monkey. Fast. And make it update my Facebook account.

I'm far too busy with Twitter now, plain and simple. All that retweeting and hashtagging, it takes work, you know? My Klout is, like, 60 or something. I don't really know what that means, but if it dips to 59, I can't guarantee anybody's safety is all I'm saying. And Quora? I'm posing some really insightful questions on there and suddenly I have all these followers. That's too much responsibility to bear if you ask me. Or Quora.

Never mind how freakin' productive I've been offline. I finished entire chapters of books, refilled prescriptions and cleaned not one but two desks. You try doing that while keeping up with everybody's predictions for Bristol Palin post-Dancing With The Stars. One Saturday, I even thought of subverting a small government. But really, bringing down a dictatorship with Facebook? That'll be the day...

Too much multitasking, man. I love "friending" old friends and all, but I can get a monkey to do that for me while I'm shoveling snow or mulch or whatever it is I'm shoveling that day. Teach it to accept friend requests from only those that owe me favors and believe you me, I do not forget whose bar tab it is next. And when Zuck starts selling my deets to Madison Avenue, I can train my monkey to swing back with a DDOS attack while I eat a club sandwich.

(The monkey will of course make the sandwich, though without the whole wheat crap. Millbrook for me. And that will go on Facebook, too.)

So a helper monkey it is. For Facebook, for sandwiches, for the children. And nobody better touch my monkey.

Oh, I did learn actually learn a thing or two from my Facebook-free February. Nothing earth-shattering. No major epiphany. But plenty of small ones, which I will share in no particular order pretty soon. Or the monkey will share on my behalf. I have yet to decide.

No monkeys were harmed in the posting of this blog.

The above bag and affixed slogan was one of many cheeky trinkets you could buy from Modern Humorist, the long-defunct satirical website from the late '90s. The site was known for its irreverent tongue and nearly won the Webby Awards, way back when those mattered. For reasons unknown and uncared, it never grew wildly popular as did The Onion and fell into dormancy. 

Alas, Modern Humorist never got to, nor ever dreamed it would, break Google's heart like Groupon did. Granted, Groupon is more about cheap deals than it is cheap laughs. I rather enjoy the a-musings that run under each day's Featured Deal. Frankly, I find their consumer engagement strategy to be refreshingly candid. Even their local Twitter accounts (I follow @GrouponGRR) are witty and well-run.

So why did you all fuss over their Super Bowl spots? Sure, there's all sorts of arguments being made about whether Groupon put too much trust in its ad agency, when the company should fire said agency and how fast could Groupon burn itself in effigy. Personally, I thought the ads were a bit confusing and probably moreso to folks that hadn't heard of Groupon up until the big game. Their PR was a day late and a dollar short, and I'll spare you the puns tweeted at their expense.

If the charity thing was so important to Groupon, it could've found a better way to correlate endangered rain forests or commercial whaling or... whatever. Maybe it was a dumb idea from the start, I dunno. The human rights struggles of Tibet, which we are so magically well versed in since last Sunday, are no joke to Tibetans. Yet other sites can tease Tibet (see above) so why is it when Groupon does it, we freak out?

Three reasons:

• We long ago lost any remote sense of humor in this country.
• We grossly overact to any and everything politically incorrect.
• We are a nation of prudes.

Our society is so quick to scoff, to judge, to dismiss. One wrong wall post on a Facebook page and the pink slip can't come soon enough. The fries are too hot or the soup too cold, so off with the CEO's head. Angry Birds charges an extra dollar per download and we become angry mobs and take to the streets to throw Molotov cocktails at... no, wait, was that last example was too close to Cairo? Too soon?

So the "Save the Money" campaign was ill-conceived. That's Groupon's problem. Don't make it yours. It's one thing to voice an opinion, calmly. It's another altogether to declare outrage. Outrage? Really? The company came into your living room, made fun of the manatees, clubbed a baby seal and dumped waste oil on the way out? You're going to go and protest now, boycott the brand? No you're not.

I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to forgive and forget. You're going to stop casting the first stone. Shake off what you saw, say your peace if you must and move on with your day. It's not worth the frustration. Still think Groupon has some 'splainin' to do? Guess what, they did already. The company doesn't have to do any more 'splainin' to you. Don't like it? Don't use Groupon. Otherwise, you have at least another day to get $75 worth of vino from Wine Insiders for only $25. Whine about that, why don't you...

"Tasteless" or not, I dig Groupon and am going to chalk this episode up as I did my entire sophomore year in college: Pretty darn sophomoric but in no way indicative that I'd never grow up. And maybe you all should, as well.

I'm taking the entire month of February off from Facebook.

Relax, this is not some publicity stunt. No, I'm not going all Leo Laporte here trying to make some statement about why Facebook is the embodiment of evil (and did he ever really leave?). Nor am I anti-Zuckerberg or anything, regardless of how the billionaire boy wonder continues to redefine awkwardness.

Honestly, I just need a Facebook vacation. Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of fun with the social network of choice for one-sixth of the solar system. It's become a part of me, and heck, it's a big part of my career. I forever owe my old web design students from LTU a debt of gratitude for goading me onto it five years ago and I've connected with wonderful people from my past and present ever since. Not a day goes by that I don't sign in several times to update my status, share links, post media, like this, like that, chat here, chat there. Which makes it awfully time-consuming (read: addicting) and makes for a not-as-productive-as-Dino-can-be me.

So, off I go until March 1. Someone already joked, "You'll just make up for lost time on Twitter." Good point, so no I won't. I do have my long-neglected LinkedIn profile to update, let alone several recommendations I've owed folks for months. There's this very blog I don't take seriously enough these days, never mind the "Pandering For Posts" series I sorely need to finish. In fact, I'm on at least a dozen other social media channels that I either need to tune in or turn off.

And, there's all these books I need to read. An APR to complete. Desks to clean and all that kinda crap. And yoga. Always wanted to try it out. Maybe a cigar. A really good cigar.

Seeing as how I can't quite go completely off-grid, I'm allowing myself a few exceptions:

1. Respond to "urgent" messages and wall posts, should some family or work matter arise. Hey, life happens. I'll keep an eye on email alerts but leave it at that. 
2. Accept incoming friend requests, assuming there is a legitimate reason not to wait until March. This one I have to play by ear. If I just met someone at a conference and they try to friend me, they may not understand my self-imposed experiment and I'd rather not be rude. Otherwise, my old bar buddies can wait.
3. Monitor work accounts. This only requires a few minutes each day, and thankfully I have an entire team dedicated to that cause. Vacation or no vacation, I can't neglect my duties as a social media and online PR manager, and that will always include Facebook. That said, my indoor soccer team can live without one group admin for the month.

Of my 550 Facebook friends, roughly 540 won't care. I imagine the rest will bear to live without my witty updates for a while, and will more than likely forget entirely about them by Groundhog's Day. Which, based on weather reports, is when hell freezes over in Michigan.

See you in March.

It was 1997, and I'd just relocated to Detroit to intern for a PR firm. I serviced several automotive accounts and fast learned that the North American International Auto Show was pretty much Mecca for the OEMs. Heck, I even learned what "OEM" meant.

Things were different then. There was no Twitter account for the show—for that matter, there was no Twitter. The old MSN CarPoint was the official website of the show, and if there were ever open discussion boards on that site, I'm guessing the top car execs weren't logged on congratulating each other with "Neat concept, can we steal? LOLz!" or "Aw, shucks, we didn't win car or truck of the year, but great for those other guys!"

So why are today's breed of execs doing just that? The slew of tweets these last few days between some well-known Motor City marketers is surreal. Granted, these individuals run in the same social circles as they do industry ones, so retweeting amongst themselves is not uncommon. So on top of sharing a common passion for cars or Detroit's rebirth or green tech, these gearheads blog about college football, juicy couture and their choice of best chili dog, garnished with a little ribbing all the while...

Which is nice when you think about it. Make no mistake, these peeps are pit against each other for market share. I wouldn't go so far as to call them buddy-buddy, but they are chummy with each other. As a consumer, that appeals to me. These are real people that drive the same cars and slog through the same morning commutes as the rest of us. And as a social media marketer or PR pro or whatever the heck I'm supposed to be these days, I find the camaraderie refreshing, perhaps even representative of some new form of Cola Wars where both sides aren't sworn enemies.

I myself chat with my industry counterparts on the more popular social networks. Mostly friendly talk, usually about what we hate and love about social media, or like today, why we can(not) wait to get the new Verizon iPhone. We're supposed to despise each other, but we don't. And why would we? We treat each other with mutual respect, and not because we may one day trade favors. We frequent the same trade shows and share the same stages in front our own peers. We learn from each others' failures and successes. Sometimes, we form friendships. Without question, we do it out in the open for all the web to see.

Is there something to all this hippie love between competing tweeps? Hard to say. It's likely to rattle some corporate cages, those run by the old business-is-war types with all their tired boardroom battle rhetoric. I never bought into that personally, and maybe this trend is more like-minded souls manifesting themselves one tweet at a time. Will it sell more cars? Hard to say, though maybe that's missing the point. Selling a car is one thing. Selling a brand is an entirely different matter altogether, especially when competing brands intertwine online.

Regardless, it makes for good "tweeple" watching.

So, I got sucked in, too. I welled up a bit watching the estranged son reunite with his mother live on national television. You know the news by now.

It's the end of the week, and if one was ever to end on a high note, this was it. And while the media cycle may die down, the story of Ted Williams is still in draft. Though Williams may have went from panhandling for mac and cheese to peddling it for Kraft, the formerly homeless man who is suddenly the most sought-after voice talent in history is far from a fairy-tale ending.

Don't get me wrong. I am rooting for Williams but I was at first skeptical. Sure, I swelled with pride when my hometown Cavs offered him a gig and a free house (well, at least the mortgage to cover one). Then my Spidey sense tingled. "It's a set-up," spoke my inner cynic. "The serendipitous Dispatcher, the whirlwind morning talk tour... we're getting 'Balloon-Boyed'." But then TSG ran Williams' mile-long rap sheet. Later, the poor fellow couldn't get on a plane without pleading a court for a copy of his birth certificate (the TSA doesn't take too kindly to convicted drug felons lacking photo ID boarding jets these days, so it seems). And then the touchy-feely TV reunion with "Hi Mommy! Hi Mommy! Hi Mommy...."

Fair enough, the guy's legit and gosh-darn likable. Nevertheless, the story of Ted Williams is still in draft.

I think back to another Ted. Ted Rodrigue was an indigent who became the subject of a 2005 Showtime documentary. Filmmakers planted $100,000 in a dumpster for him to "discover" (Rodrigue truly had no idea he'd find the money or that he'd part of any film project). Somewhat predictably, Rodrigue wasted his windfall, presumably for not having possessed any real fiscal sensibilities, and fell right back on hard times. Oprah Winfrey admonished Rodrigue on her talk show for throwing away a second chance at life, as well as the filmmaker for what she perceived to be veritable entrapment.

Why bring this up in relation to Ted Williams? Both men are cautionary tales. In defense of Rodrigue's filmmakers, they begged him to seek financial counsel once his spending sped wildly out of control. TiVo back to this week, when Williams was talking to Ann Curry and Al Roker on "The Today Show" and he doubted his own ability to pay basic bills beyond his (subsidized) mortgage. Curry marveled at that, noting he now had a job and could afford to do so.

Williams grinned, sheepishly. And then he shrugged. 

He's no dummy. He once lived a normal life (many of us were surprised to learn he made a good living in the radio business in the '80s) but the streets have shaken him. He's not the same person he once was, nor would any of us be after decades of pauperdom. He will soon endorse some rather large checks in the coming weeks and months and, let's face it, a simple checking account must seem like a luxury to him. Do you trust he knows what to do with thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of dollars?

He needs professional help, and I hope he knows it.

He's going to need a financial planner. An accountant. And an attorney. I can already see the legal woes, given his rap sheet and his ex-wife. Yes, an agent for when "The Pursuit of Happyness 2" comes knocking. A PR consigliere, or at the very least a publicist. A physician. A bodyguard. And pretty soon, a plumber.

We know he has a web designer. And thanks to the press, YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and Reddit, a fervent social media following. That's all fine, but if the deafening silence of our dark and disenchanted world is ever to be shattered with the charmed, golden voice of a man like Ted Williams, it needs to be for the right reasons. 

Not because of brand marketing or broadcast journalism. And certainly not to quench our thirst from the office water cooler. No, it must be because that deep within ourselves, we dare to be inspired by fable and legend, folk lore and myth. For now, Ted Williams is the feel-good story of the week. It is my wish that Williams evolve into an epic for the ages. A hero's tale I can tell my two-year-old when she grows up, so that she may kindle her own children a generation from now. Not a story of blown chances or even second ones as we all damn well know our world scorns the imperfect and the impoverished, nor will it suddenly start doling out TV deals to every beggar and bum.

I mean the story of a man who was uplifted by his fellow man. How Doral Chenoweth III, web videographer for The Columbus Dispatch, unsure of what to make of his chance encounter with the drifter in camouflage holding a cardboard sign aside a highway, took his own leap of faith. And in an odd twist of fate, how it may have been Ted Williams that not only saved Chenoweth but perhaps all of us.

We need Ted Williams more than we may care to admit. Reason enough to help the man with the golden voice who so very much needs all of us.

Now let's pretend you did any of that. If you consider—hey, put down your Droid. You can oust that "Mayor" in a moment. Sheesh…

1. ZERO mention of Facebook and Twitter. Yes, mainstream media is capable of reporting a social media story that doesn't reference either of the aforementioned, which is refreshing in this case as Facebook launched Places and Twitter built its own geotag-amabob a few months before Facebook did. Reigning champ Foursquare and title contender Gowalla just got some killer PR, as did rookie prospect SCVNGR.
2. No dreaded 'P' word: Privacy. Can we get through at least one social-media conversation cycle without the Big Brother buzzkill from angry mobs of advocates? For all his perceived flaws, Mark Zuckerberg was (mostly) right about the whole "age-of-privacy-is-over" thing.
3. Simple arithmetic. Breaking down the numbers, the Pew stats geeks found that roughly 12,425,000 Americans check into physical locations, some obsessively, via mobile location-based apps and other "geosocial" doohickeys. (Lord, do I love how we make up words.) Accounting for a 3 percent margin of error, that's 21,744,000 on the upside or 3,106,000 if you really lowball. But even 3 million Americans can't be wrong, and that's a large enough sample of consumers on-the-go to make any web-savvy marketer sing Cream in the shower.

Admittedly, I scoffed at this stuff when it first the scene. But here I am, 48 hours after U.S. midterm elections, just as proud of my 'I Voted 2010' badge as I am the fact I voted. And if that's what it took to convince a few extra voters, may even swing a ballot or two, then there just might be something those 4 percenters know that the rest of the 96 does not.

I'll be in Las Vegas later this week for the 2010 BlogWorld and New Media Expo.

Being my first time there (to BlogWorld, not Vegas) I thought I'd let you track my (most) every move via Tumblr.

Can't promise a live headcam on Ustream (and how '80s Letterman would that be?) but I can promise you one thing for sure: I won't gamble. Not just because I'm on business. Frankly, I'm lousy at the tables, and the only cards I'll be fishin' for are the ones that fit into my Rolodex. And probably fancy ones with QR codes and embedded RFID chips, but hey: at least mine are 100% recycled. So there.