#3: Cain, Abel + Sales Cliques

Author’s Preface:

Greetings! Welcome to ‘número tres’ of my 10-part series, “One-Third's Century: What I've Learned so Far”.

Congrats to you for sticking with me through reading ~15 minutes’ worth of my writing (Source: LI estimate “7 mins” for #1; “8 mins” for #2)!

And a major thanks to the small army of ‘early adopters’ who are taking the ride with me.

As of hitting the ‘Publish’ button just now, there are a whopping 131 loyal subscribers.

Salute to you all! We’ll grow together, no doubt.

As this blog slogs forward (Wednesdays weekly through 1/18/2023), I’m going to dismantle the linguistic scaffolding seen early and often thus far.

Fading the many, frequent snapshots & anecdotes from my faulty memory, I’ll concurrently turn up the dials of what a blog fundamentally should be—a personal lens with which to inspect the macros that surround us and inhabit our minds + lives.?

I’ll do less qualifying, rule-following, and stop the chaotic interrupting (or will I?), and slide into more, gradual, sharing of who I really am.

As a person, as a writer, as a man of uniquely modern, strange times. You’ll see/ hear more of my real parlance. Sometimes in a ‘trinary’ of English, French and Spanish. Other times with PG-13 language.

The training wheels will fall off—hopefully with grace—and we’ll be rolling this Schwinn down the sidewalk in no time!

Enjoy and please react/ share (pls, share)/ subscribe (on every platform, not just Microsoft-owned outlets, like LinkedIn).

Don’t worry, I don’t bite (all bark, actually—hence the writing thing). Leave a comment! Share with a colleague!?

Cheers,

AM

Unabridged Legalese: Security Posture Set to ‘Stun’

Lawyers—at least, strictly professionally speaking—aren’t typically adept at appreciating the subtle, nuanced craftsmanship that drips from the flavorful remoulade of good copy.

So that’s why ‘they’ asked me to include this piece.

[Feel free to skip ahead—unless you’re actively working for, or against, me.]

Please note, for all matters of any type; past, present and future: I have been a published (“working”) creative writer for 15 years (or basically, all my adult life).

My portfolio presently has a certain number of referenceable pieces—mostly from my college years.?

From (almost purely) a ‘volume of creative body of work’ standpoint, this does not take into account a variety of ‘ghost writing’ projects; which, by virtue of the non-disclosure stipulations typical in most of those types of engagements, I’m not at liberty to reference these works in any ‘creative portfolio’ you may attribute to me—whether it be ‘for’ or ‘against’ me.

This week, I use my creative sorcery (alchemy, mostly) to change gears from discussing supposedly true, ‘mysterious’ dual-initial mentors, to opting for entirely fictitious mononyms (e.g. “Bob”, or “Rob”; but never “Chad”, or “Jake”) that I invented of my own invention with only my imagination.?

And a little hope for, ya know, the Human Condition, albeit waning.?

As such, I’m what you might (should) call ‘neurodivergent’, or ‘eccentric’, or maybe if you’re in a rood mood: “weird”.?

Not to plant a flag for the more uninitiated reading this, or those that struggle with grasping satire, but as info, I am a ‘tall tale’ type telling guy from Ohio, where we’re Twainian at telling a lot of exaggerated ‘fishing stories’.?

I’m also a responsible deer hunter [bet you didn’t guess that] of questionable repute.

It’s like a weird peacocking thing, I think.

When I use italics (like this), or quotation marks (“like this”), there is an extremely high probability I am infusing some degree of sarcasm into the script.

Or trolling. Or both.

In short: when it comes to storytelling, I’m very prone to exaggerating for the sake of a good story.

Capeesh? ??

Furthermore, I’m a millennial. ‘You guys’ know how entitled we are (right?).

Ok, that one was for me. Just teasin'.

Now I’m done.

Onward!

Uncomfortable Truthing: Who is Adam?

For my entire life (parts of five different decades), I’ve always gotten along better with women.

Like always, always.

And not always like that.

[creepy Internet silence]

Thankfully, never like that, like that.

I just genuinely have more in common with women much more often than I do with the men around me.

Women are generally tougher and smarter—two traits I’ll extol with examples of literary heroine types. Probably not at any worthwhile length, at least not today, but definitely soon.

Plus, men can be very weak. Especially nowadays.

Particularly some who wake up every day choosing the wrong side of history.

[you know who you are, why would I name you?]

Take-Home Test

Here’s a fun take-home-version-pro-test for you:

Walk into a trendy bar, at night, wearing sunglasses.

Try it out.

Some people will look at you like you’re “too cool for school” [as a personal oldhead of mine, would for sure say].

But who cares?

Dude, it’s already December [!]

It’s almost 2023.

Clearly the endtimes are nigh, fools & ghouls.

But, to my young people out there, charisma is a dangerous charm to wield.

It often confuses many into unhealthy behavior patterns.

Sometimes, those patterns last a lifetime.

Sometimes it’s a devastatingly truncated lifetime.

#foreshadowing

So, tread carefully when you can, my many young friends.

Carrie Bradshaw Impression

Dear Na?ve One,

Sometimes men say intentionally mean things (hopefully only) to other men.

Look how closely the words mirror each other:

Men.

Mean.

Mean Men Meanly mean mean things.

At least, that’s what Samantha says.

Saturdays & Boys, or something: The Practical Joker

Lol—so just to amuse myself this past week—I told some of my closest, oldest work friends that I was going to write about them this week.

You’ve never seen fear in a grown men’s [whatever that means to you] group text thread until you not-so-subtly threaten to extort them with their dirty laundry.

It’s tantamount to kicking a hornet’s nest full of cranky, married dads.

Lolol, I’ve always poked the bear. Like, my *whole* life.

The variety of responses I received from these man-animals (manimals?) allegedly ranged from:

The Mild: Petty, harmless name-calling [completely acceptable. wimps.]

To …

The Medium [allegedly]: Threatening immediate physical violence to me, my person; openly and brutally questioning my manhood, ancestry, kin, one or more ex’s, and in one instance, any/ all existence of me in, and I now quote, “past, present & future versions in all parallel universes of [redacted, slang for “Adam”]”.

To…

[might want/ need to tag this is as ‘premium content’, hmm]

…lol…

I have very, very funny friends. Many of them all over the US, as a matter of fact.

As in, I’m not even close to the funniest in the crew [middle class Adam is a mediocre Adam]. I'm not even the funniest Adam.

Imagine that?

So why am I the only one from my closest circle of old work friends with the…{ahem}…gaul to perform on stage?

And why does Charlotte always seem to end up with a guy that’s just an ill-fit for her?

I wonder if people can hear my internal monologue…

Or is this a dream? [or a movie?] {or, oh god, another sequel?}

CUT.

More, of whatever that is, to come in future installments of “As the Sales World Turns”

Newsflash Crew of Old Work Guy Friends: I'm not writing about you dum-dums this week, lol. At least not, in a sincere way.

Shmucks ;)

See y'all next week!