By Art Gillis

Business trips to Boston always meant taking time out to visit my mother. After all the family gossip was exchanged, it got down to two things. “Are you eating enough?” and “That was a good job you had at the bank, and we were all proud of you, but now, I don’t know. The ladies at the Philoptohos ask me about you and I don’t know how to explain what you do.” After listening to my mother, I realized why so many Jewish kids went to medical school. Their mothers could say, “My son the doctor,” and everyone understood. “My son, the consultant,” just doesn’t click. But the ladies don’t just ask, they offer opinions. “He could have opened a restaurant with you in the kitchen showing everyone how to prepare your fabulous meals. You know you’re the best cook in Somerville. Right now I’d give anything for your kokinisto arni and those little pastry triangles filled with feta.” That’s when I saw my opening. “Ma, picture you in the kitchen of a restaurant showing the staff how to cook and how to create masterpieces of culinary delight, so the customers out front will return for more. In a way, that’s what I do for banks. I show them how to use great technology to keep their customers happy.” I think she got it.

Today, the tech industry needs some homespun critics who will ask, “But what do you do all day?” We need to understand better what people do and what they expect us to do. In the old days, I used to say, “I see a lot of stuff that comes over the transom.” Now it comes on my screen, but it’s no better than the physical stuff. Here’s how I rank the deficiencies of most communications:

1. The physical presentation is awkward. Example: Today it was so tiny that it was unreadable and it was frozen so I couldn’t enlarge it.

2. The message begins on second base, just to use a little baseball vernacular. It’s as if someone took away the batter’s box, home plate and first base. Can’t we start at the beginning?

3. People write for their benefit. They don’t write for the reader. You know what you’re saying, but do we know?

4. There’s too much to digest. Short and sweet is an expression I have heard all my life. It fits even today in our world of massive information.

5. I gave up on the idea of “take your time.” Everyone’s moving too fast and they’re losing what I call “the essence of appreciating the value.”

This message contains 468 words. I wish I coulda given it to you in ten words.

This is a public forum. CMP Media and its affiliates are not responsible for and do not control what is posted herein. CMP Media makes no warranties or guarantees concerning any advice dispensed by its staff members or readers.

Community standards in the message center do not permit hate language, excessive profanity, or other patently offensive language. Please be aware that all information posted to this forum becomes the property of CMP Media LLC and may be edited and republished in print or electronic format as outlined in CMP Media's Terms of Service.

Important Note: The Message Center is NOT intended for commercial messages or solicitations of business.