I’m a believer in Og Mandino… right up to the moment you realize you’re too damn old and the thing you spent your life chasing doesn’t even exist anymore. For me, that thing was professional drumming.
We don’t learn a thing from the gigs we nailed.
We learn from the ones we blew so hard the cymbals still ring with embarrassment twenty years later.
Small side step … Lately, in the 3 a.m. hours when sleep ghosts me, I’ve been down rabbit hole after rabbit hole trying to figure out this new game: traction online. Not really for me but for a couple of friends who are trying desperately with new projects.
Conclusion after a week of reading every guru under the sun?
Nobody knows.
It’s time + constant refinement + a giant dose of dumb luck. And yeah, being Canadian feels like starting the 100-meter dash half a lap behind while the algorithm hands out Red Bull only to Americans.
I can’t remember the last time anything exploded out of Germany, Spain, or—God forbid—Canada unless the person was already famous on TV or leveraged some corporate brand.My one taste of real online heat?
I can’t remember the last time anything exploded out of Germany, Spain, or—God forbid—Canada unless the person was already famous on TV or leveraged some corporate brand.My one taste of real online heat?
When I was Senior Partner / Executive Creative Director for US Web/CKS in Canada—before it became marchFIRST and the tech bubble ate it alive.
Suddenly I was this kid from the Junction who got called up to pitch for the Yankees.
Phone rang off the hook. People either wanted to sell me shit or get hired. That company was a big deal.
Four insane years. Then poof. Lights out.
Since then: companies I started, blogs, SafeNetGuardians (way too big for one old drummer), and now this little drum thing at pactumbatteria.com.
Still swinging. Og was right about one thing:
- You don’t have to be the best.
- You just have to be the last one still showing up after everyone better than you quit.
The ballpark’s dark. The crowd’s gone home.
But I still hear the crack of the bat in my head.
So I keep stepping into the box.