Attack of the Flak

Maybe I just suck at PR

Monday, 08 December 2008 16:50

There comes a time after getting fired when you’re done beating yourself up, and you're done blaming others, and you’re just about ready to forget it and move on when you think, you know, maybe this isn’t the right line of work for me.

I mean, I’ve lost every PR job I’ve ever had, not always by my choosing, okay, almost never by my choosing. Why then do I keep coming back for more?

For the same reason I started, of course, for the money. There’s nothing else out there that I want to do. I never dreamed of being an accountant or a salesman, I’m not a technologist, I don’t have any trade skills or business sense. I’m not terribly fond of kids so teaching would be a drag (and not profitable). I suppose I could be a politician, but I’ve got a sordid past, I’d hate asking people for donations all the time, and I’d like to think I’m not that kind of a guy.

I could go back to school and get a degree. But, in what? And when that was done I’d still be in the same boat, looking for a job, except with more debt.

No, it’s not entirely about the fact that I suck at PR, it has something to do with the gnawing feeling I have that PR is just the thing that I suck at the least. And for which I can get paid the most money.

Is that it then? Scramble around from PR job to PR job pimping someone else’s dream for the rest of my life? I suppose I could find fulfillment in other ways, other aspects of my life. Do charity work, devote myself more diligently to fatherhood, or really work on my golf game (the Seniors Tour awaits!)

Yet, I’m still left wondering if I’m not meant to do something more during my time on this rock.

You can't handle the truth!

Monday, 08 December 2008 16:43

"The Truth"
These days it's hard to write those words without following them with a cynical, "Yeah right."
Presidential candidates, especially the old, white ones, seem to think they can say whatever they want and no one's going to check the facts. If anyone does, and calls them on their bullshit, they're part of the enemy camp, part of that vast mainstream media conspiracy to keep them and their base oppressed. They may not be shooting the messenger, but they've got sharp blades out slashing away at media's knees.

And the PR flaks, the spokespeople, the "communications professionals" stand there and spout rubbish they can't possibly believe. What was the name of the Iraqi Information Minister, http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com/, who had the thankless job of standing before the world after "shock and awe" declaring with a straight face, "All is well" living in his own alternate reality. It wasn't all his own, he was doing his job to the end.

Scotty McClellan did a pretty good impression of Muhammed Saeed al-Sahaf, and to his credit came out (belatedly) and told people he may have been fibbing a bit. Or that he was fibbed to. The right-wing spin machine ripped him to shreds.

So what are these clowns Rick Davis and Steve Schmidt and all their ilk going to say when this is all done? "Just playing to win, guys. No hard feelings, right?"

The bigger the lie, the bigger the mistake, the more likely you're going to get away with it. Some poor schmuck goes off-message at a software company and he's out in the cold faster than you can say "COBRA is too expensive." But, the CEO of a financial services firm presides over the implosion of his company and he takes the limo back to Connecticut for single malt and a cigar. Macanudo to you, too MonkeyBoy. Then there's the King of all MonkeyBoys, George W hisself. Give away a surplus, ignore all warning signs, then put on a mask of bravado and come out swinging. Seven years later nothing's accomplished, the country's in the crapper, and he's getting ready to mosey back to the ranch, clear some brush, cash his pension checks, and build his library, a big one, with books and everything.

I want a big library, and I'll tell you one thing, if I had a big library, I'd actually read the books.

Yes, an angry screed from a guy on the bench. Dismiss me if you will. Don't worry, I won't be offended. It's happened to me before. Lots of times.

So, this PR guy walks into a bar...

Sunday, 07 December 2008 16:27

Here's the deal.
In 1992 I quit my job at Charles Schwab and decided to try to make a living as a writer. After three years of freelancing, scribbling in San Francisco, publishing a newsletter ("zine"?, remember those?), and doing work for a computer trade rag, I was lured into PR by the promise of a steady paycheck. Sixteen years, four PR agencies (five if you count my own brief solo career), and six in-house positions later, I've decided to turn around and bite the hand that fed me, curse the hand that dragged me into this hollow field, and critique it.

Hey PR, get those hands dirty! Do some real work and relate to the public. You can "influence the influencer" all you want, except you should know, the influencer is everywhere.

Yes, it's different now, but it still ain't rocket surgery.