Blogging is great and all but remember that ideas come when you’re living a healthy life.

As with all forms of communication there are those who dilute the channel with their junk. Twitter is full of spammers and while Twitter is trying to minimize them, the best defense against spammers is you. I use an app called Tweetbot for my iPhone. With just a few taps I can report someone as a spammer and they’ll be blocked from my timeline immediately. In case you’re ever wondering, “Is this spam?” here are some recent messages from LanieSark2745 and a breakdown of why they’re a perfect example of a lousy, no-good spammer

#1 – No picture – If you see an egg or a picture of an attractive woman in a seductive pose.
#2 – Tweets to followers/following ratio – Good ol’ Lanie has no followers, is following no one but has tweeted 19 times.

Tweet Contents
#1 – Mention – They don’t talk about themselves, they immediately start spreading junk to users.
#2 – Text – Their message is always the same and there is no conversational tone to what they write.
#3 – Shortened link – The link will be “hidden” using a shortener service like bit.ly.

Report spammers my friends, it helps Twitter identify them and it will keep your timeline clean.

Unfollowing means freedom

I also suggest NOT following everyone who follows you unless you want to render the direct message function of Twitter useless. When you follow someone and they follow you that opens up a door to direct message you. I reserve that for specific people because it goes right to the front of the line in my communications work flow. If you want to unfollow a lot of people or learn more about why unfollowing can be a good thing then check out Michael Hyatt’s post called “Why I stopped following you on Twitter” or Chris Brogan’s post called “The Great Twitter Unfollow Experiment of 2011“.

Are you going to unfollow anyone and did you learn anything about Twitter spam?

Photo by Mariano Arriaga at http://www.sxc.hu/profile/elbrus5

- Jennie Allen, Anything

Businesses that have raving fans understand human emotion. How else does a company like Apple charge up to 3X as much for a machine with the same “specs” as a Windows based machine? How can Apple not have focus groups but still get customers to focus so much on their products even before their launched? How does an author make money by giving away his book? How do churches, ministries and non-profits in general get people to give them money?

In order for your business to grow you must do more than build a better widget or write a better book. You have to understand the person you’re trying to reach with your message. When we take the time to study our customer as much as our craft our business has a much greater chance.

Maybe you need a sales coach to help you figure out how to understand your customers better. Maybe you need to get off your butt and go talk to some customers without trying to sell them anything. Ask these questions;

- How do you feel when you buy our product?
- Why did you buy from us versus our competition?
- Why do you keep doing business with us/me?
- What would make you feel better about working with us?

You won’t like everything you hear but it will make your business better and you’ll treat your customers better.

What questions are you going to ask your customers?

Stop!!! by http://www.sxc.hu/profile/ColinBroug

The truth is, you (and I) really don’t want to get work done. I’m talking about a specific type of work. We don’t want to do the kind of work that makes us feel vulnerable, the kind of work that could seem pushy or authoritative. We allow distractions so we have an excuse for doing work that doesn’t really move us or anyone else to a different place. “Status quo” is not a goal, it is an act of surrender. These things are keeping you (and me) from doing great work. There are many more but these are the ones that involve technology.

• Phone calls
• Email programs on your desktop
• Email on your cell phone
• Text messages
• Instant messages
• Skype chats and calls
• Google voice within your email window
• Facebook chat messages
• Twitter direct messages

How much time do these steal from you doing great work? I use a program called Freedom to lock me out of the internet while I write. If you are as undisciplined as I am then let Freedom help. The number one business blogger in the world uses it so you can too.

What distracts you most often when you’re working?
What are you going to do to shut it down and get some real work done?

I’m giving away a free copy of FREEDOM to a commenter. Is that bribery? Maybe. Happy commenting

Image by Big Foot at http://www.sxc.hu/profile/big_foot

I lost a BIG deal recently. It might be “tabled” or it might be gone forever but for now it’s not happening. I was confronted with a unique emotional decision when I “lost” this deal. There was something inside of me that was really happy for the “could have been mine” client. As it related to our working together I was disappointed, confused and actually quite discouraged. There is a history with them though and I have a tremendous amount of respect for them. My desire for them to find success was actually larger than my own self interest. That feeling actually surprised me. I was ready to be pissed for about a month. A week after losing the deal I was trying to help them move on to another project that I would make no money from.

I am not the answer to everyone’s marketing problem. Creating a podcast, an on-line show, or a physical audio product is not the only way for brands and individuals to find success. In light of that truth, I’m not the messiah. I’m not the answer, I’m one answer.

My family is something I hold tight.
My integrity is something I hold tight.
My reputation is something I hold tight.

Potential customers are not something I hold tight. They deserve the best solution and if that isn’t me then I want them to move on. I’d rather point them to the right solution or let them move on to something else and later return to me with the relationship still in tact than try to talk them into working with me.

Cheer for the ones that get away. Help them find success outside of you. It just feels right. Trust me, I’m feeling it right now.

Photo by Jesse Therrien - http://www.wix.com/jessetherrien/photo

It does some things well
I don’t know if Al Gore invented it or not but I love the internet. If you asked me to turn it off and go to the mountains for a few weeks I would survive. The internet allows a guy living in South Dakota to connect with people all over the world. It gives dreamers making killer iPhone stands the funding they need. It gives guys in Kentucky the ability to create their own network where they can spread ideas all over the globe. The internet is a place where you can meet new people, order stuff that will end up at your house the next day and read books for free that make your life better the minute you finish it.

Don’t make it everything
The internet is a lousy place to have coffee. It’s a lousy place to confront someone. It’s a lousy place to cry on a shoulder. It lacks something and it always will. The internet puts something between us. It is between us. The internet is a wonderful tool and it has profoundly changed the human experience for much of our planet. It doesn’t replace first dates, play dates, family reunions, conferences, coffee chats, having a drink at the bar, getting a quick lunch, taking your wife out and opening doors for her or tucking your kids into bed. It can sortof do all of those things. When you can be there (in person), be there. When you can shake someones hand, shake their hand. When you can tuck them in, tuck them in. Don’t put the internet between you and people. In person is always better for building deep relationships. The internet can do many things but that doesn’t mean it should do them.

It’s a tool
Face to face, handshakes, mannerisms, scents, nuances. The internet doesn’t do those things justice. I love it but it’s a road to a destination, not the destination.

You’re a wuss

I’m a wuss and so are you. We hesitate. We do NOT want to stick out. We want to be different but we fail because we use normal things to do it. The closest we get to wanting to be different is having a 2012 model instead of a 2011. That’s not different, that’s newer.

Julien Smith wrote a short book (length doesn ‘t matter by the way, it’s still awesome) about our human reaction to being different. The book is called Flinch and it chronicles our human desire to fit in and our deep rooted hesitation to do anything difficult.

He’s right. This is not an issue that goes away after trying to fit in while you’re surviving the high school social scene. Case in point: There’s a restaurant in downtown Sioux Falls that gets a big business lunch crowd. 95% of the men who walk into Minerva’s are wearing a black trench coat. They’re not navy blue or charcoal, the coats are jet black. Why did they all buy the same coat? The Flinch.

Comparison is a great way to do nothing

You read a blog post a lot more days than you write a blog post. I read blog posts every single day. Do I write a post every day? No. Why don’t I? The Flinch. I am afraid whatever I’m going to say won’t be as good as Mitch Joel or Seth Godin‘s writing. That’s actually true, it won’t be as good as Mitch or Seth’s, but that’s just another excuse to not write. It’s a flinch.

The Flinch in the rest of your life

You flinch when you tell your kid to stop doing something even though it’s not illegal, immoral, annoying, dangerous or harmful to their health. Parents most often say “No” because it’s just easier to say than yes. So your kid wants to drink seven kinds of soda at the same time. Let them (just not that often, it’ll kill them). So your kid wants to break all their crayons in half. Let them. They’ll learn that 1/2 sized crayons are a *%(#* to draw with.

You have an idea on how to improve a process at your job but you don’t say anything. You tell yourself to not say anything because “They probably already thought of it and it didn’t work.” or “It’s not my job to improve this process, that’s my boss’ job.” or “My boss won’t even take my suggestion and do anything with it. It’s a waste of my time.” Those are all 1/2 truths. The reason you won’t say anything is that you’re afraid to stick out. You’re afraid they’ll say no. You’re afraid other employees will think you’re kissing up to the boss. You’re afraid. That’s the Flinch.

You’re well trained like a monkey

The reason the Flinch is so dangerous is that it trains us over time. The Flinch trains us to avoid the flinch. It trains us to avoid the moments where they could, maybe, possibly, perhaps, potentially be a point of friction. It teaches us to sit down and shut up. It teaches us to avoid risk everywhere.

You want more out of your life

What kind of life is characterized by taking as few risks as possible and fitting in as much as possible? Your life.

Until you wake up to the reality of the Flinch you’ll settle for a safe life. You’ll have a safe faith, safe kids and a safe job. If “safe” is your #1 goal in life then have fun with that. Happy flinching. The alternative to a safe life is to identify the Flinch and put yourself in situations where you push through it. The next step is to seek out the Flinch and show it who’s boss. Then life gets fun.

The Flinch is Free

Read the book (it’s free on the Kindle and you don’t need a Kindle to read it). Pay particular attention to the shower section.

Access to information used to be the problem. Books were  chained to something because they were too rare to lend out. There was no mass distribution channel. Then the printing press came along and changed humanity. Ideas could spread  regardless of the creator of those ideas. The printing press didn’t distinguish between truth and lies, it just printed. The tool did it’s job.

There are always obstacles

The new obstacle was access to the printing press. It was still a tremendous amount of work to operate the press and of course there were limited presses and skilled operators. Fast forward…way forward. The internet is open to you. It’s completely and totally open to you. You can plant virtual gardens, connect with friends you haven’t seen in 30 years through Facebook, send short messages all over the world, feed your bad habits, watch world events happen live, balance your checkbook and operate a printing press.

Your own press
You have a printing press and it doesn’t take days to create a page. It takes days to create an entire book.

• You own the press (your computer).
• You know how to operate it (your keyboard).
• You have a distribution channel (the internet).

You have the exact same printing press as Stephen King, JK Rowling, Seth Godin, Malcolm Gladwell, Martha Stewart, Oprah Winfrey and Billy Graham. Pick a writer. You have the same button they do. We all have the same button.

The Button

The button is what separates you from them. They use it consistently with conviction. I’m not saying that your message will spread like theirs but your message will exist. People can only pay attention to your message, follow your lead, join your group, support your cause and be inspired if you hit the button. So hit the button, often.

Want to write a book?

If you’re interested in writing a book I encourage you to check out Scrivener. You can buy it from the Mac App Store or from their site. It’s how I’m writing my new book.

Tadaa is a great Instagram alternative that I’m using for my picture taking. Here’s a short review and why I like it more than Instagram. Hint: http://www.Tadaa.net/AndyTraub.






You can also share your pictures on Facebook at Twitter on the last page of the publishing steps.



The post on Facebook



The picture Tweeted

Tadaa App for iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch from Andy Traub on Vimeo.

This is 2,500 words so the button below will send it to your Kindle if you want to read it there.

(This has not been edited in any way so please just read and enjoy. Editing always comes after production and reflection.)

I wanted to write a profound marriage book. The kind of book that becomes a staple when you hear a friend has recently gotten engaged so you bring up the title as sort of a manual on marriage. Then I decided that was too much responsibility so I wrote what you’re reading now instead. Mrs. Ellis, Mrs. Mullin, Mrs. O’Brien, these were the women who tried to shape my writing. I’m afraid they may have failed. The only person who I really understand most days is me so I’m going to use the work “I” a lot in this book. I used it three times in that last sentence alone. Maybe I’m egotistical so I like to write about myself. Maybe I’m too prideful to go to a councilor so instead I’m writing this book. Maybe I genuinely want others to know that marriage is a lot of work. Maybe I don’t remember anyone fully explaining the real image of marriage when I was telling them I got engaged (which I’ve done twice). If you forget everything I write please remember THIS – Marriage is work, but it’s good work if you can get it.

I like long forks. As the youngest of four children by the time I could remember rifling around in the silverware drawer our forks were all the same size. Perhaps it was because we were more of a Hamburger Helper family than a salad, main course then dessert family. Whatever the reason, we only had one size of fork in our drawer. When I made it out on my own at college and had to stock my own kitchen I am sure that my more responsible roommate Dave supplied the silverware. It too had all the same size forks. After college Dave and I moved apart and I had to buy my own forks and so I went to the housewares store that goes “Beyond” and picked up a set. You guessed it, same sized forks.

It’s amazing the truly important moments in life that you somehow manage to forget but I cannot remember the moment when my wife and I picked out our silverware set. I know, astounding that I would forget such a pivotal moment in our relationship. So now we’re six years married and we’ve got this set of forks and they’re different sizes. There’s the obligatory serving fork that always throws off my search for the long fork I so desperately “long” for. Then there are these miniature, useless, baby forks. These are the problem. They’re not children’s utensils (but they’re small enough that my two year old daughter uses them with ease). These are fake forks. They are impostors. They are empty promises. They have the same number of prongs as a normal sized fork but their depth is deplorable. Perhaps they are called “salad forks” by those more refined than myself which is most of the adult population. Perhaps they are better for people with smaller hands like my wife. When I see them though all I can imagine is an umpa-lumpa from Willy Wonka sitting down on a lunch break chatting in the Wonka Kafeteria, chatting about the fat kid who fell in the chocolate river while eating whatever umpa-lumpa’s eat. Whatever they eat they use the same size forks that crowd out the adult sized forks in my silverware drawer to consume it. They beam with joy as they pick up their appropriately sized utensils from the chow line, feeling normal, like the whole world is 3 feet tall and burnt orange.

I hate those forks. It’s complicated. My home is very traditional now. I go to work and earn money. My wife stays at home and raises our three very, very, very young children ALL DAY LONG. My job is easy compared to hers. The President of the United States’ job is easy compared to hers. I digress. This arrangement is purposeful. I am an entrepreneur. I own my own business and make my own hours. My wife has always wanted to have and then raise children. We struggled for over a year to conceive our first child but with just a little help from some natural hormones Samuel was born in 2008. Back to the forks. Since my wife stays home and has lots of free time (that’s sarcasm, get used to it) she usually has started dinner by the time I walk through the front door. She loves me A LOT so before I am permitted to dig into whatever pasta or meat dish that will sustain my human hunger for substantive food she gives me a salad. This is where the fork comes in.

It would seem appropriate that a salad fork should be used for eating a salad wouldn’t it? It is not. If you believe salad forks are appropriate for eating a salad then let me ask you some very simple questions. Should anyone ever, under any circumstance, for any reason, at all, wear a shirt that allows their “roll” to protrude out the bottom? You’ve seen it. I’m not trying to be a jerk or insensitive to overweight people. I’m simply pointing out that there is a purpose for clothing and when someone’s stomach is protruding out of their shirt my mind begins to spin. The same feeling happens when a guy bends over to work on your sink and shows you that he his not a fan of belts. It does not crack me up to see this. I hope you got that pun, I really do.

Things are supposed to fit and salad forks don’t fit me, ever. They are a waste of my time. They frustrate me. I feel like I’m visiting my son’s preschool classroom, sitting in one of those tiny little chairs that fit him so perfectly but make me look like Manute Bol. Google him if you don’t know that name. Great guy, huge heart for his homeland and freakishly tall. May he rest in peace. Back to the sorry excuse for a utensil. Yes I can use a salad fork to eat pretty much anything. It does work, but it does not work as well as a normal fork does. Is the goal of a salad fork to slow me down while eating my salad? Did they make them smaller so we wouldn’t use the same fork for one meal item as the other? I find the existence of these forks purposeless, except for the oompa-loompas of course. They are empowered by these forks and I don’t want to take that away from them. They’ve endured enough already.

The conflict in my marriage is mostly internal. Sure my wife and I have external conflicts (also called yelling), but most of our conflict happens between our own two ears. That is where the fork issue existed until one day I broke the sacred seal of silence regarding my disdain for tiny forks. I did think before I spoke which should be applauded. Whatever I decided to say should have seen a few more drafts because whatever it was my wife didn’t receive it well. It was probably really thoughtful and sensitive though. I’m guessing I said something like “I hate these little forks. Can I get a real fork?” I know, poetic.

I don’t think I was being a lazy jerk. I was simply telling my wife that I prefer the larger forks. It’s unclear to me if she did get me a real fork on that day (she likely did not) but in the days since I have tried to politely remind her that I hate those little forks so when she drops one in my bowl of salad, pasta or whatever else I can spear, that I’d like the adult sized utensil. Here’s the climax, she doesn’t really care.

My wife cares about me. She cares about our children. She cares about the unborn, new moms, the kids we sponsor in Africa, her nephews and nieces, her mom, dad, step dad and lots and lots of other people, places and things (nouns). She is a very, very caring person. She does NOT care about my fork preference.

I have a wart on my left thumb. I don’t remember not having it. It sticks out of the inside of the thumb, about 1/4 of an inch from the thumb nail. When I was a kid I would stare at it all the time. I even remember picking at it until it was bloody back in the 6^th grade. It bothered me because I focused on it. Kinda like my fork issue. Do you realize that you are bothered by what you focus on and what you don’t focus on doesn’t bother you? That might sound really simplistic, obvious or just plain dumb but stop and think about this. What do you care about? How often do you look at what you care about? Often. If you care about money then you check your bank account often. If you care about your kids’ safety then you check in on them more often. If you care about the weather you check the forecast more often. If you care about feeling wanted you check your email more often (that’s me). What we care about we focus on. In sixth grade it was my wart. Today it’s my fork size. There are two sides to this argument that I will very quickly summarize.

My perception if the world revolved around me and the size of a fork was truly important: My wife does not care about me. She knows without a shadow of a doubt that I do not like to use small forks. She knows it and yet she still gives me a small fork to eat with at almost every single meal. It takes .01 more seconds to find a large fork and in turn make me feel cared for, heard, appreciated and respected. Instead I feel ignored, unappreciated and disrespected. I feel like a second class family member. My son gets the specific color of bowl of his choosing, my daughter can eat whatever she wants because she puts up such a fit about food. I on the other hand am the orphaned family member, left at the stoop, discarded and dismissed. Some days she even gives me the small fork because she doesn’t like me. Forget the fact that she spent the last nine hours with our kids. Forget the fact that next to the oompa-loompa fork is a salad that she made by cutting up Romaine lettuce, sprinkling sunflower seeds, chopping up vegetable and putting a dressing I like on top. No, the salad was not thought through, the size of the fork was. She is insulting me. She is mocking me. She is say, “I don’t care what you want or what you need.”

What an unbelievable stupid thing to think. I think it to some degree several times a week.

Her perspective: I love my husband and I want him to live forever so I am making him a salad. Today started at 4:30am as our baby woke me up to nurse and then I never fell back asleep. Andy left for work at 7:15 and I had not showered. By the grace of God baby Lucy feel asleep for 15 minutes and I put the other two kids in front of a cartoon via Netflix while I got to take a shower. Before I could get dressed baby Lucy was screaming so I rushed to get her fed…again. The kids fought most of the day and I don’t remember feeding them lunch but they’re hungry again so whatever I did feed them is a distant memory for all interested parties. I wish he came home at 4 today but I started dinner at 4:30 because I want us to get the kids in bed by 8pm so he and I can have some actual adult conversation. When I am cutting this salad up and chopping these veggies I am thinking of what a lousy lunch he probably ate at work, where he has the freedom to go to lunch with whoever and wherever he wants to go. I fight off the feelings of jealousy and am simply grateful that the kids are screaming “Daddy! Daddy!”. He puts his bag and jacket in a pile instead of putting them where they belong but I’ll make him pick it up later. For now I want him to eat this salad so I can move on to finishing the pasta that I probably overcooked because I lost track of time after changing the 37^th dirty diaper of the day. As he sits at the table I take the bowl of salad in my right hand and turn to my left. With my left hand I open the silverware drawer. I reach to the far left compartment and grab a fork. I put it in his bowl, walk to the dining room table and put it in front of him. I am exhausted but still find the energy to ask him how his day was. His response is, “What’s up with the tiny fork?” I hang my head in disgust and defeat. I walk back to the drawer while the pasta continues to overcook and grab a non-salad fork for his salad. I take him the fork and place it into his bowl. I am a good wife.

She is a good wife. In fact she’s amazing. I on the other hand am an idiot. I like big forks but on what basis and in what situation does my disdain for small forks justify making my wife work harder? How am I so selfish that I don’t see her hard work but instead choose to focus on the length of utensil? I am very happy as I eat my salad with the adequately sized fork. My wife on the other hand feels uncared for. She feels unappreciated and taken for granted. But hey, at least I have the right sized fork now. I am such an idiot.

There are hills worth dying on in marriage. There are issues worth fighting for. Keeping pornography out of your relationship is worth fighting for. Making sure you are investing in each other as a couple after you have children is worth fighting for. Giving your husband the respect he desires and your wife the love she needs is worth fighting for. The rest is details and you and I need to get over ourselves. Pick your battles and don’t make the size of your fork one of them. Major on the majors and minor on the minors. Focus on what matters and forget what doesn’t. Die a little to your desires so your marriage lives another day. Shut up and eat your salad. It’s delicious no matter what size fork you use.