SUSE AND THE CITY: Call Waiting

SUSE AND THE CITY: Call Waiting

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Some sound advice from Suse.

Bullshit BIngo #5 - Cover Off

I’d forgotten about this one because, mercifully, people don’t seem to use it any more. But I just got it again, in an email. I first heard it six or seven years ago and it stopped me in my tracks like a terrible smell. It just sounds wrong. How can you cover something off? It doesn’t make sense.

It’s a pointless addition. “Is there anything you’d like to cover off on the call?” someone says. Why not just say: “Is there anything you’d like to cover on the call?” The second option has the twin benefits of greater economy and actual meaning.

I don’t know where these stupid things come from. But I suspect that some people sit around for ages thinking them up deliberately, like Oscar Wilde used to do. Except that Oscar Wilde was a master of wit and these people are just trying to make themselves look slicker or more intelligent by squeezing out meaningless drivel like ‘cover off’.

They’re probably the kind of people that employ the ‘self’ suffix all the time because they think it makes them sound more professional.

“And will it just be yourself attending, sir?”
“Just address it to myself, if you would.”
“Excellent, myself will see yourself at 2pm, then. I may invite a couple of other selves to the meeting so we can get a broader perspective.”

Cretins.

So, please bear this in mind: You can tick off, mark off, set off, let off, run off, sound off and round off. You can skive off, drive off, kick off, tip off, rip off, sack off and jack off. You can spin off, slink off, hand off, stand off, get off, fend off and send off. Most importantly, you can just fuck off.

But you CANNOT cover off.

You just can’t.

I’m your a charity case, so buy me something to eat

Charity, as we all know, begins at home. We all give in our own ways, some of us more than others. But we all know, in our heart of hearts, that we could probably give a bit more. This explains why I sometimes walk a different route through town to avoid well-known charity mugger hotspots. I suspect I am not alone in these guilt avoidance tactics. I strongly suspect that there are people out there who this very lunchtime hurriedly walked past a pretty girl wearing a green tabard standing on a high street who was just wondering if you had a few minutes to talk about poverty.

Don’t feel bad if you did. There’s a metro supermarket next to our offices. The supermarket chain in question has taken the dubious/laudable decision of allowing charity spare change collectors into the shop, not only that but they stand at the end of the checkouts between the customers and the exit. Today I went to a different sandwich shop rather than have to feel guilty about the starving millions moments after buying an overpriced ham sandwich and a BIGEAT bag of Monster Munch.

I’m digressing a touch here, but only in order to demonstrate the lengths I’ll go to in order to avoid something I feel genuinely guilty about. I’m doing this to help explain why I feel no guilt whatsoever in telling PRs that I have no interest in their boring obscure clients, even if they’ve just offered to take me for a few pints and spot of grub.

One PR firm has been badgering me to meet up “for a few informal beers” for some time. It’s not that I’ve been avoiding or ignoring their emailed invitations, it’s just that the allure of free drinks actually wore off sometime ago. Today, however, I displayed a moment of weakness. I was sent a reminder invite email and I was feeling generous, maybe I would swap some of my free time for some of their free booze after all:

Hi the Finisher,

If you remember I mentioned last month about inviting you for drinks or a bite to eat with the PR team – are you free sometime in September for us to set this up?

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kind regards,
Annabel B Peeyah

I said:

Hi A BPR

Yep, sorry, I meant to get back to you. The Escapist and I have checked our diaries, and September Xth is free.

Hope you can do that date

Cheers
The Finisher

Moments later - and we are talking seconds here, rather than minutes - I received another email from Annabel that conjured up images of the supermarket dwelling charity worker:

Thanks for getting back to me The Finisher

Yes that date sounds great to us! Would you be keen to go for a drink near us (in Soho) or is there anywhere in particular a bit closer to you that you would prefer?

Also, would you be interested in having an introductory briefing with the CEO and founder of OBSCUROmobile, the managed service provider. Its UnHeardof Technology Platform underpins many core operator services including:
- Mobile advertising/marketing – including competitions, polls and auctions
- Content management – including acquisition, device management and digital rights management
- User generated content – for example the sharing of mobile MMS photo messages and videos
- Instant messaging ‘on the move’
- Mobile ‘blogging’
- Caller ring back tones – where a caller hears a subscriber’s choice of musical greeting instead of a dialling tone when calling a number

The CEO would be keen to talk to you about a variety of topics of interest for your readers including mobile messaging, mobile advertising and user generated content – would this be something of interest?

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kind regards,
A BPR

I don’t know whether this is genuinely Bad PR or just plain clumsy PR. She’d have been better placed waiting until or even after the drinks. Now I’m not really sure I want to go along and put a face to the name, she might well be wearing a green tabard and shaking a bucket of spare change at me.

I shall say this only once

When I go on holiday or travel to a conference in a far away land I always leave a voice mail message directing callers elsewhere. I never, ever, suggest leaving a message.

I do this for two reasons. First, because I’m away and if someone wants to get information into the publication they’d be better placed pitching to someone else. Second (and more importantly) because the first time I ever left a voice mail message when I left the office for an extended period I foolishly suggested that I would get back to the caller(s) upon my return, then when arrived back from holiday I had to spend all day calling people up.

Why then, when I return from trips away, do I always return to the office and come face to face with the blinking red light on my phone that signifies that I have voice mail messages? I shouldn’t have voice mails. I never, ever, suggest that I will return the calls. I always redirect people to a colleague I know will be around.

Adding insult to injury almost all of the messages that I have to listen to are from PRs calling to ask me whether I’ve received their sodding press releases. The answer to which the PR should already know, since they would have received an out of office message from my email account redirecting them to the unfortunate colleague I knew would be around in my absence.

Don't kill Bambi!

It’s hard to clarify the bleedin’ obvious, but, alas, it’s a common request from Bad PR.

Just had an irritating e-mail exchange with a PR guy. He has a client that could be relevant to a feature I’m writing and so I sent him a brief request. You know, a couple of lines outlining my focus area and would he have a senior spokesperson from client X to give his views?

So far, so good. An excellent example of journo and PR pulling in the same direction and enough to conjure up images of a Walt Disney epic from the 1940s. Happy and smiling people, arm-in-arm, skating across the ice; Bambi making its first faltering steps; and birds chirruping in the forest. Maybe there’s no need to write blogs for this site after all.

Then the PR goes and spoils it all by asking could I clarify what I’m after so “we can make sure we line you up with the right person”. I’m sorry, mate, but you have just squashed poor Bambi flat with your clunking e-mail boot and frightened off those chirruping birds.

What is there to clarify?? I simply repeated what I said in the first place, which, although brief, contained all the salient points. Bad PR, please desist from over-complicating and appearing busy just for the sake of it.

An over-reaction on my part? Tell that to Bambi.

The ‘ignore me’ flag

You’re either extremely naïve or have never used email before if you think ticking the ‘important’ flag makes the email important. If you think ticking the flag makes any difference whatsoever to the chances that I’ll open your email and pay it any more attention than it deserves you are deluding yourself. Chances are, in fact, that I will pay it even less attention than it deserves.

I’m waiting for the day when an email application enables users to add other punctuation or iconographs instead of just the little red exclamation mark. I think the dollar or pound signs might be handy to indicate that the email contains some sort of bribe or maybe a picture of a little aeroplane to signify that the release includes details of an exciting trip.

When I see an email with an exclamation mark before the subject header it invariably means that the contents of that email are not worth reading.

Time wasters need not apply

I've just finished writing a feature about a nascent and much hyped technology. I won’t bore you with the details. There is so much tech vendor hype surrounding the subject that should I type the word into this blog it would be inundated with firms who have some "great insights" and would "love to contribute" (they wouldn’t much like to advertise against it though, but that’s a different story… one more suited to a blog called bad-salesmen).

I’m digressing.

Anyway, I received countless emails and calls offering up clients for the piece. PR Land had seen the forward feature list you see. All fine and above board PR work. The rules of engagement clearly followed.

I decided that I’d do my own research and find my own impartial interviewees though. That said, I also decided to throw the PRs a line. There were simply too many VPs of Marketing to interview, so I thought I’d draw up a list of a dozen or so questions and send the same questions to all the firms. Since they're all peddling the same tech I figured I’d probably get some similar responses, but if anyone really stood out from the crowd and said something genuinely interesting I’d use the quotes. Genius.

I sent the list to one PR, who said:


> Hi Finisher
>
> Just to check, what is your deadline for this?
>
> Thanks,
> Bellinda Peregrine-Rogers
>

I said:

My deadline is Weds 13, but I'll start writing on Monday.

She said:

Great, thanks for letting me know

True to my word I started writing it on Monday, and I’d finished it by Tuesday. On Wednesday (deadline day) I got this:

Hi Finisher,

Apologies that we have not got anything over to you yet. If we can send you something tomorrow will it be of any use to you?

Thanks,
B PR

Do I tell her that since today is Wednesday, the deadline day, tomorrow will be of no use to me whatsoever, do I ignore it or do I say “great, please make sure you spend time putting together well considered responses” safe in the knowledge that she’ll have wasted her time as well of mine?

Tough call.

I don't recall

As a freelancer I have to cater for a range of commissioning styles. Some are fairly open-ended - "write whatever you want as long as its 1,000 words" - while others are prescriptive to the point of telling me what I should be wearing while sat at my keyboard banging out their demands.

One of the commissioning editors that adopts the latter approach likes to send me a big list of questions and a big list of contacts. All I have to do is email the contacts the questions, wait for them to email back their answers then get out the cut and paste kit. Hey presto, £1,000 please.

We all know that, ideally, a face to face or phone-based interview is the best way to get answers, but we're all busy people. And what with every PR under the sun now demanding to see their quotes first, sometimes it is just easier to let them email their illuminating insights - particularly when the article is 3,500 words long and you have 25 people to interview.

After sticking to this formula for a couple of years now I've built up a decent enough relationship with the regular contributors - hell, I even put some of my own questions in now and again. But then, today, a PR had to go and ruin it all. I'd already sent the contact the questions and he'd already replied to say he'd send the answers next week. SO WHY ARE YOU GETTING INVOLVED, PR????

"I noticed that you contacted Mr X for your X feature."
"Yes"
"We can put you in touch with him and sort out an interview. When is a good time for you?"
"Er..."

I explained the way I like to work for these features and left it at that.

And then this morning I got this email from the same PR (who I have never met I should add) that was addressed to the contact and presumably sent to me in error:

----- Original Message -----
From: xxxxxxx
To: xxxxxxxxx
Cc: xxxxxxxxx
Sent: Monday, August 11, 2008 11:16 AM
Subject: RE: article for xxxxx magazine on xxxxxxxxx


Hi xxxxxx,

Hope you are well – just wondered if you had started these responses? We know xxx xxxx well and he does have an available interview slot on Thursday 14th at 10.00 EST if that would save you writing?

I know xxx is looking forward to xxxx’s input and as he is a freelancer it is good to establish a relationship over the phone.

Best wishes,

xxxxx

It doesn't matter whether I'm a freelancer or editor of The Times. Once someone has agreed to do all the work for us, you don't go and undo that work. Ever. And I tell you now, if we do have this interview I will be making my unhappiness as clear as possible through the medium of a slightly sulky tone of voice and lack of opening pleasantries. Then you might learn.

The email was swiftly followed by that familiar warcry of the hapless PR. XXX would like to recall the message 'RE: article for xxxxx magazine on xxxxxxxxx'.

Bullshit Bingo #4 - Incentivize

Incentive is such a nice word, not only does it sound quite nice, it has a nice meaning.

Mmmmm, an incentive.

I love a good incentive me.

I’d do practically anything for a nice juicy incentive.

Which makes its recent bastardization all the worse. You’d be hard pressed to find a nastier example of Americanized business speak verbificationalization.

A perfectly acceptable alternative to incentivize, and far nicer, would be motivate.

The blurb

Conference calls and phone interviews are a necessary part of our job. For the main part they’re relatively painless, but if mishandled they can easily descend into embarrassment and frustration.

When I’m on a call, I like to ‘get in and get out’. Most information can probably be obtained within 20 minutes, or half an hour at a push. So it was with only a little trepidation I recently agreed to an interview near the end of the day.

(For once) I was prepared. I’d done my research, scoped out the company I was talking to and got my questions ready. So after a brief introduction I said, “Let’s just jump right in with my questions.” At this point, the interviewee stopped me with the all too familiar, “Just let me take ten minutes to tell you what we do…”

The blurb. It’s what these interviewees (probably the VP of marketing) live for. They simply enjoy reeling of that ten minute monologue like it’s a Homeric epic. This is not the fucking Iliad! I don’t care about the origin of your company. (Don’t get me wrong, the blurb can work in your favour if you haven’t prepared. That’s ten minutes of shut eye or the chance to scrabble around for some desperate questions).

But in this case I’d done my research and I just wanted to get in and out. So I waited for the PR, lurking in the background lie a grue, to pipe up and rein him in. You know, steer the interview a bit. Do their job. I’m still waiting ten minutes later, as the client is winding up his mission statement. That turned out to be a phone call that was ten minutes too long and all I can think about is my train I’m supposed to be on (the pub I’m supposed to be in).

We all know PRs are there to jump in when the client is about to say something stupid, but they should also jump in when it’s obvious the client is deviating from the task in hand – answering the journo’s questions. If I want to listen to your story, I’ll ask. I’m not a bleeding Samaritan.

Do your own dirty work

Second only to the ring-round in the PRs' shitlist of jobs they just don’t want to do is the media audit. They have to do them though because their boss tells them to because either a) they’re after a new contract or b) they’re trying to hang onto an existing one.

Taking each of the above scenarios in turn:

A) If you want to win some new business by impressing the firm with your exhaustive knowledge of them, do your own research. If you want to show them what a rubbish job their current agency is doing, don’t bother, they’re looking for a new agency so they already know how crap their current bunch are. Do not rely on the sketchy knowledge of your average trade hack, who will almost certainly be working on something else with a deadline fast approaching.

B) If your client is trying to gauge how much of an impact they’re making on the world stage, then they’re almost certainly not making much of an impact.

When I was very new to the game, I'd never heard of media audits. They didn’t crop up as a module on the environmental engineering degree I took. I’d gladly take calls and feel no shame letting PRs know that I knew nothing of their client or their field of interest. As I matured I started to dread the media audit, thinking somehow that my lack of knowledge was a cause for embarrassment. After a while I became numb to the embarrassment. Frankly, not only did I not care that I didn’t know about obscure tech firms, I was quite proud of the fact. I was pleased that the marketing of the firm to date had absolutely no effect upon me, and I wasn’t afraid to let PRs know it. These days I just say that media audits are against company policy.

I got a letter this morning from one firm informing me that as a valued member of the media my views were sought. I was informed that a market research firm would be calling any day now and that the call would only take 45 minutes.

Forty five minutes! You’ll be lucky to get four to five seconds love.