Category: Smirkworthy
Make sure you get my good side
Gwen Stefani Lost it on ‘The Voice’ Premier
If you watched ‘The Voice’ premier on September 21, you saw the blind audition of contestant Jordan Smith from Harlan, KY. He performed Sia’s ‘Chandelier’ and pretty much nailed it for the first round.
A small town kid with the talent to hit complicated high notes, he won the judges over. All four turned around before he finished which is what every contestant aspires to accomplish at this stage in the competition.
Blake was the first to turn. A few notes later, Gwen and Pharell looked at each other, threw some side-eye, and turned around simultaneously. Pharell acted normal. Gwen lost her shit.
Gwen’s reaction to seeing Jordan’s appearance after hearing his voice was cringe-worthy. Her whole spasm caused me one giant face-palm.
At first glance, all she could do was be confused, throw her leg and hands up and twice exclaim, “Whaaaaat?!? WHAT?!?”
It’s one thing to be surprised when you look at somebody. It’s a whole other thing to be incessantly hung up on how shocked you are about their looks and persist with your blown mind. I expect a four-year-old to act this way, not a 45-year-old.
Adam turned around after just enough time passed for Gwen to contain her leg. Gwen turned to her right and threw a “What?!?” Adam’s way as if to ask, ‘Do you see what I see?!?’
Adam intently listened to Jordan as he finished his performance. Gwen stared and looked like her head was going to explode.
As quickly as the audience and the other three judges gave a standing ovation, Gwen rushed the stage to touch Jordan to make sure he was real.
Sure enough, he was! Then she had to tell him herself just how shocked she was.
After all that, she still continued to be blown away. Climbing back in her chair she turned to Pharell and said what? You guessed it.
Everyone sat and the judging began. Gwen didn’t ask for Jordan to join her team (or at least they didn’t air that). She did, however, say the following:
She did. She threw the “FYI” in there. Pharell interjected over Gwen’s ‘freakiest thing she experienced in her life’ and explained what she was trying to say in other terms.
When the other judges are swooping in on the heels of your comments, it’s time to shut your mouth. Her best compliment to this poor kid was how surprised she was that he didn’t look like she thought he would. Gwen’s better than that. She’s just been an L.A. girl for too long.
But it was Adam who Jordan chose as his coach. The other judges (Gwen) can learn from Adam. You see, Adam listens. Adam relates. Adam says all the right things and he’s a good coach. It took me a few seasons, but I’ve grown to really like ‘The Voice.” It’s still early on, but wishing Jordan and Adam the best of luck this season!
Jobjargonitis
If you work with people, chances are you’re already infected with Jobjargonitis.
It’s easily controlled. Symptoms are only exposed by what comes out of your mouth.
New phrases emerge annually and, when used, indicate someone spends a lot of time enjoying the sound of their own voice, sitting in meetings, or blowing through expense accounts at conventions.
Let’s examine a few:
“Lift the skirt” – “Before we make this investment, we have to lift the skirt and take a good look.” At some point someone decided they preferred a Geisha over an office temp and started talking about ‘opening kimonos’ but how many ways can we say ‘evaluate?’ Look under the hood, lift up the sheets, lift the carpet to expose the dust bunnies? Look in a mirror and see how lame you are.
“Out of pocket” – “Oh shoot, I really want to help you but I’m out of pocket.” You’re unavailable. This isn’t football. Suppose it were. It’s a boring game and you’re on the bench anyway. I asked if we could meet on Wednesday. It’s a yes or no question.
“Ping me” – “Sounds good, ping me and we’ll work it out.” Let’s talk about this later. You’re just preparing to be instantly out of pocket when you hear from me. How about I call you and you pick up the phone?
“Win/win” – “They would be fools not to take this deal. It’s a win/win!” A true win/win is rare. The person saying ‘it’s a win/win’ usually is the bigger winner. Suppose I ask you to go out and buy me a cup of coffee and bring it back to me. You oblige. I get coffee and you can feel good about helping me. Win/win!
“Paradigm shift” – “If we can pull this strategy together, you’ll see a paradigm shift and we will revolutionize how everyone does this!” We aren’t moving mountains. You only fundamentally change your approach to things when you’re consistently wrong. If what you’re calling a paradigm shift is legitimate, then I do them all the time. Like when I added wet wipes and matches to my bathroom regimen. Talk about thwarting science.
“At the end of the day…” – “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what HR does. His wife is pissed!” An oldie, but still alive, and likely will be used until the end of days. It is usually in reference to an anticipated result of something that has nothing to do with the day. At the end of the day, I’m going home.
“Ramp-up” – “Our go-to-market strategy is to get this in the hands of the ramp-up customers so they can test it for us.” Who needs R&D and QA teams when you can have your early adopters pay you and test your product?
“Elevator pitch” – “Perfect your elevator pitch so you can talk at someone real fast regardless of whether or not they are listening.” Ding! This is my floor. I barely make eye contact in an elevator, much less buy something from someone. In the unlikely event you’re selling Girl Scout cookies, no words are necessary.
“10,000 foot view” – “There you have it, the 10,000 foot view!” Is that how high we are after your elevator pitch? Guess what I can see from 10,000 feet? Nothing, especially your face to know if you’re lying.
“Take that offline” – “Good question, let’s take that offline and we can discuss. Ping me after this call.” Either you need to coordinate a response or you don’t have one.
At some level, hearing these terms is entertaining. When a fresh term is spouted, and it catches your attention, rest assured it will trickle down to the outlet shoppers within a week.
If the zombie apocalypse ever occurs, Jobjargonitis will bond with whatever innately turns us into flesh eating, undead, cannibals making them mutter, “It is what it is.”
My early theory on aerodynamics
I wasn’t much different than most kids in the fact that I thought I knew everything.
It didn’t matter what grades were reflected on my report cards. After sixth grade, I stopped redeeming good grades for game tokens at Chuck E. Cheese so what was the point?
Despite whatever cerebral short coming I was experiencing, I would fight tooth and nail to defend anything that sounded right because, you know, common sense. That, or I just couldn’t handle the fact that I felt that my stepmom felt that she knew everything.
Naturally, when I professed my theory about aerodynamics and speed limits from the backseat of the truck, my stepmom tried to correct me.
That day, I was playing in a hockey tournament. Between games, we shot over to McDonald’s. We hopped in my dad’s truck – a Ford F150 super cab, something big and bulky. My coach, who happened to be my uncle, also went to McDonald’s in his car – a Mazda RX-7.
I was fascinated by my uncle’s car. It was so cool, so sleek, and so modern. That thing cut through the air like a knife.
We hit the highway, briefly. My dad, ever the careful driver, maintained the posted speed limit – 55 MPH. The RX-7, on the other hand, zipped past.
Always pointing out wrongdoings, my stepmom said, “Art’s going pretty fast.”
“No he’s not,” I said, in a matter-of-fact tone, from the backseat.
“Yes he is, Travis,” she said. “Your father is driving 55 and Art just passed us driving faster.”
She had it all wrong.
“He’s not speeding,” I persisted. “His car is going faster because of aerodynamics. He’s going 55.”
This might have been the moment I shot down any hope my dad had for me to be an engineer. He was a land surveyor with a strong math background. He was pretty quiet during this exchange. He let Alice take the battle.
“No, Travis, the shape of the car doesn’t matter,” she explained. “55 miles per hour is 55 miles per hour. He would be next to us, not in front of us.”
What does she know? She didn’t even go to college.
“You don’t understand,” I told her. “Both engines are going 55, but his car is more aerodynamic and it moves through the air faster.” Makes perfect sense.
Exhausted by me, the front seat nodded, pretending to finally get it.
I wouldn’t buy it. I was convinced that, because of aerodynamics, my uncle could travel faster than us while driving at the same speed. I had no intentions of letting it go and they knew it. I was right and that’s all that mattered.
Needless to say, I never made it beyond intermediate Algebra in high school. In 1992, at college, I had one of those impressive Texas Instruments TI-85 calculators. My friend and I would type messages and pass the calculator back and forth in class. Texting pioneers.