This is a long overdue post.  We had the first ever Manager Tools Meet up in Milwaukee (alliteration unintentional) in November.  There were about 10 people there, and we had a great time eating pizza and getting to know one another. 

In the pictures below, I’m holding my phone up because Mike is on it on speakerphone, talking briefly with the group.  In the second photo, member Phil Gerbyshak got a shot of him and me for his website.  Phil was kind enough to share these two shots with us.

My schedule makes some of these visits easier, but also makes me less available for as many as we’d like.  Nevertheless, Mike and I are committed to meeting more of you.  And Mike will do some of these as well.

We’re committed to Washington DC/Northern VA, Chicago, Milwaukee and Tampa this year.  We’ll probably also do one in Northern California, and Hartford CT.  We haven’t ironed out all the details yet, but we’ll learn as we go.  The purpose is meeting - the rest is ancillary. 

I loved doing this first one, and appreciate the time that our member/guests took away from their families to join us.

Watch this blog for announcements of upcoming Meet Ups.

It’s a privilege to serve you, and a treat to meet you. 

So, you’re a manager, and you’ve got a boss and a team.  Let’s assume for a moment that all of your responsibilities - your goals and objectives, rolling up all your tasks, can be represented by a bucket of balls (as in, “juggling a lot of balls.”). 

For discussion purposes, let’s just say that everybody - you, your boss, and all ten members of your team - has TWENTY balls in their bucket.  You have 5 big balls - the ones your boss might well fire you for if you drop them.  And, you have 15 more smaller balls as well (5+15=20).  These are also “important”, though not critical.  Your 20 balls keep you VERY busy - sometimes 80 hours weeks (though not often), and you take less vacation than you’re allowed, and less than your kids would like you to.

Got it?

Now, I’m not saying that this would actually ever HAPPEN …but one day your boss comes to you and presents you with another shiny big ball.  Your SIXTH BIG BALL.

What would an effective manager do?  Would you refuse?  Would you ask what balls of the other 5, or other 20, would he have you NOT DO?  Would you simply hope she wasn’t going to notice that you’re going to drop 5-6-7 of the small balls later?

To be clear, there IS a right, or most effective answer to this question.  It’s like the “does a tree falling in a forest” question you’ve probably heard. That is a zen koan, and there really IS a right answer.

Who’s first?

I recently shared that sometimes delivering feedback was difficult for me, despite being quite well known for using it frequently.  Just like you, I’m a manager, and sometimes I’m not as good at it as I’d like.  For those of you who appreciate obscure literary references, I, too, at times, “straggle after ripe blackberries” rather than doing the most effective thing.

And to prove it, I thought everyone would enjoy reading a story that shows just HOW badly I can do my job. 

Last year, I was working with a very sharp client, and we were discussing strategy and motivation over a nice dinner.  I wanted to make a point that sometimes, in an effort to reduce risk, a business initiative was planned to death, and over-planned, and turned into three thousand tasks that ended up sucking the life out of what the company was trying to achieve in the marketplace.  Sometimes, boldness is called for, and risk is not just acceptable, it’s necessary - as a spark of fear and a tonic for action.

To make my point, I recalled the story of General Patton, during World War II.  As he pushed his armored forces forward, he got quite far in front of the other Allied forces.  This made him vulnerable to counterattack from the sides.  He was asked to slow down by being reminded, “George, aren’t you worried about your flanks?”

His reply is famous, delivered with his customary… ‘flair’. 

“My FLANKS?  MY FLANKS??!? I’m not worried about my @*$&@#&@ flanks.  Let the Germans worry about my flanks!  I’m worried about the Germans!!!”

And the punchline?  I told this story to a client… a German executive.

I hope you never do something as galactically stupid as that.  But if you do, I hope you’ll give yourself some feedback, and remind yourself to breathe, as opposed to holding your breath.

Last week we covered the first part of our conversation on conducting performance evaluations in a matrix environment … this week we conclude the conversation.

As always, if you’re a new listener to Manager Tools, joining the conversation mid-way is probably not the best way to take advantage of these podcasts. You may just want to go back and listen to last week’s podcast first.

Mike and I often call each other to comment on notes we get from listeners, telling us how much our work is appreciated. The work we are doing is enormously intrinsically rewarding, but we love hearing from our listeners and members. Sometimes, at 1 a.m., it’s a thank you email or post that makes us keep going.

Our favorites are the ones that tell us how you have USED our recommendations. That, to us, is the acid test. These are the ones I print out and stick to my wall for a few days.

Like this one:

Mark & Mike, I would like to thank you both for the Manager Tools podcast. I have never in my career come across such a singularly useful source of information and guidance about how to operate more effectively. Every day I think differently and more positively about my work as a direct result of listening in, and I’ve recommended your show to five people already. I am enjoying a very successful career - and yet here’s just some of the things you’ve helped me with the past few months:

* I discovered why my attempt at being mentored didn’t work

* I bought “Getting Things Done”

* I realised I didn’t know my manager’s objectives

* I worked out my manager’s preferred means of communication

* I got my first direct reports

* I noticed one of my reports is a “High-I”

* I lined up a new job

* I resigned my current job

* I re-wrote my resume in under one page… and it’s better

* I spent time organising my contacts, and planning how to stay in touch

* I learned to use CTRL-SHIFT-K

* I apologised

I could go on, and on - but hopefully your podcast will instead.

It’s considered inappropriate to write a thank you note in response to a thank you note, but there are no such proscriptions for appreciative blogposts.

Mike and I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to write, both on the forums and on this blog, as well as send truly wonderful notes to our offices.

Thank you all.

We truly love what we’re doing, and love doing it FOR YOU.

Napoleon once said that “a soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon.” Thank you notes have become the colored ribbons of modern organizational life, and for Mike and me in our work on your behalf.

We could go on and on.

My daughter Kate often uses a popular phrasing, ending enthusiastic encomiums with, “best EVER”, but meaning it only figuratively.

But when I use it, I don’t care about it being a popular phrasing.

I bloody well mean it.

One of my clients - an exceptional General Manager - recently set a goal for one of his management team, a new plant manager.  Because the plant manager took over in a plant that has a high percentage of non-English-speaking employees, and he himself didn’t speak Spanish, the GM set this goal for him:

“On March 15th, we’re going to have lunch together - entirely in Spanish.”

Best EVER!

Below is an excerpt (slightly modified) from a post I made recently in the forums. I was responding to a member sharing that giving feedback didn’t come “naturally” to her. It probably sounds stupid to many of you, but I was hit with a BFO: many of you assume that feedback came naturally to ME years ago. WRONG.

And…why does everyone assume that giving feedback “should” be natural?

If we inspected raw materials the “natural” way, we’d not have non-destructive testing, and accept a lot of crap. If we interviewed “naturally”, we’d just have a little chat and make offers. If we designed things the “easy” way, we wouldn’t have CAD systems, and wouldn’t use calipers, and we sure wouldn’t have integrated circuits.

If we delivered products in ways that felt natural, we’d never have gotten to “absolutely, positively has to be there overnight”.

Feedback certainly wasn’t natural for me in the beginning (but I could SURE tell it worked like magic), and there are days when it’s still not. But I do it… because I don’t get paid to do the natural thing. I get paid to be effective.

And effective is harder.

Management is not about ease. It’s about effectiveness.

All things worth doing release their joys only to those who are willing to gnaw at them a little.

Regrettably, my travel plans have changed and I will not be in Tampa as planned later this month.  For those of you in Tampa or perhaps Orlando who were planning on getting together, our apologies.

I commit to coming to Tampa anyway sometime in 07 even if there is no client trip there.

You’re right Tom - who the heck doesn’t know who Condi Rice is?  Even though she has to KNOW that everyone knows who she is, she STILL does what is the “right”, appropriate, effective, and KIND thing: she takes the initiative and introduces herself.

THAT is CLASS.

And, since neither you nor I are Cabinet level executives, or Cabinet level Ministers, or  well known pop stars, or a patently famous person, when WE meet others, it would be best if WE stuck out OUR hands, and said, “Hi. Your name here. ”  One’s “shyness”, or one’s “reticence”, or one’s being “not a people person,” is not an excuse for avoiding this simple but powerful interpersonal kindness.

If it’s good enough for Condi Rice, it’s good enough for us.

Fortune magazine ran a recent article and photo essay about power, and profiled many of the most powerful people in the world. One of them was Condoleeza Rice, the United States Secretary of State. Surely one of the most impressive people in the world today, wonderfully accomplished, brilliant, poised, a natural leader - one can’t do her justice.

Here’s what caught my eye, though. When she came in for her portrait, she walked in, stuck out her hand, and said to the first person she saw,

“Hi. Condi Rice.”

Kudos to the first person who can tell me why I blogged on this (and it’s NOT that she stuck out her hand, though I’m glad you noticed that, too.)