‘Keep it clean’ reminders seem to be everywhere; airplane toilets, the coffee area at work and my grandmother’s advice about underwear. Makes sense, I get it.
 
But when it comes to comedy, ‘keeping it clean’ is another matter.

I hear ‘keep it clean’ and all of a sudden, my hands get clammy, tongue turns to sandpaper and I feel faint. Part of me is grateful that I will pass out quietly in the green room instead of dying miserably on stage.

It doesn’t help that the other acts all nod in agreement and say,
‘Great!’

‘No problem!’

One of them volunteers a joyful

‘What fun! I have 600 hours of clean material, all GOLD.’

True to his word, 600-hours-of-comedy-GOLD does 20 minutes of clean material to rapturous laughter and applause. The crowd love him, the promoter loves him, the whole world loves him. I want to kill him. Slowly.

No, I don’t have a ‘clean’ set. My material is not filthy but it’s not squeaky clean either. And gold? Well, let’s just say my GOLD has a lot of green copper showing through.

I’m on next.

600-hours-of-comedy-GOLD suggests I substitute all ‘risqué’ words with chess pieces.

‘Chess pieces?’ I respond in alarm.

‘Sure! The audience will know exactly what you’re talking about …’

Really? I step on stage full of comedy dread …

‘Get your ‘bishop’ off my ‘queen’ you  ‘knight’! ‘Pawn’ - off!’

Needless to say, I exit the stage amidst icy stares of non-comprehension from everyone in the audience, with the exception of the promoter who looks at a fixed point in the ceiling and shakes his head.  I don’t think he will be asking me back. Not in this lifetime.

Every other act does brilliantly and 600-hours-of-comedy-GOLD does an encore and gets a standing ovation.

It’s not fair! Clean Comedy? Who wants clean comedy anyway? One of the reasons I started on this journey was to be able to say swear words – in public!

To give it some context, I come from a very prudish Catholic family, where children were NEVER heard (unless you were praying), and anything said  was a potential sin.  Farts were referred to as ‘your little bum coughing’ and I was well into my teens when I found out there was a noun for ‘down there’.

So of course, I started comedy relishing the fact I could curse, swear and people would not judge me, but laugh with me. The problem was that at first no one laughed, except me (I giggle uncontrollably whenever I swear).

So it is with deep regret that I have re-writing my material to make it cleaner, funnier and have no chess pieces involved.

For all that I know about comedy (which is not much) this is what I do know:

1. IF IN DOUBT – do clean. Most comedy audiences are up for anything (if funny)  but every once in a while, you get on stage and get that nasty feeling that your ‘bishops’ and blue ‘pawns’ won’t be well received. I have learned to trust my instinct and keep it clean.
2. It’s a numbers game. Personally, I love comedians that are edgy, blue, go to places no one (certainly no Catholic) would go – but you have a better chance of reaching a wider audience by keeping it clean.
3. It’s a challenge. At my last gig the host asked us to give a brief description of our comedy.  First comedian says ‘dark and twisted’, second comedian goes ‘edgy and blue’, I say ‘cheerful and clean?’. Guess who got the dirty looks.

Of course, I may be wrong. Since the ‘chess piece’ fiasco I have had the honour of watching 600-hours-of-comedy-GOLD bomb. Badly.

Happiest day of my life.
​
CHECKMATE.

I’m fed up and not taking it anymore! Next time someone asks ‘Can I give you some feedback?’ I’ll respond ‘You could … but I’d rather eat nails.’
It will be less painful than listening to a smug-know-it-all tell me things I already know, without offering any solution.
‘Your ending is weak … maybe work on your ending?’
Oh! Really? I was working on my fourth Gin & Tonic. 
‘Try changing your objectives to something more objective.’
How insightful!
Yes, I’m a self-confessed Feedback Phobic (FP for short), a terrible condition that can affect anyone trying to speak in public.
Symptoms include shortness of breath, racing heart, sense of terror or impending doom when in the presence of a ‘feedback provider’.
Like many FP sufferers, I kept my condition hidden, afraid of being ridiculed and labelled a ‘weaker speaker’. It was only when I joined Toastmasters that I realized it wasn’t my fault, but that outside our organization, most feedback providers don’t have a clue!  
The word ‘feedback’ is defined as ‘information used as a basis for improvement’.
Improvement? If anyone really wants to help … find me paid work, otherwise please shut up, because the only feedback I need is my grandma’s who says I’m the best speaker EVER (and she doesn’t even speak English).
Of course, the zoom-room situation hasn’t helped, as it provides harsher feedback than the savagely scary Simon Cowell on Britain’s Got Talent.
I’ll start with ‘Audience Contribution’ feedback (AC), which comes in two basic forms: POSITIVE – audience on screen are inspired! Engaged! They love me!
NEGATIVE – people frown and look at me as if I’m explaining triple integrals. I’m not. Triple integrals are not inspirational. Except when you try to solve them and then I’m inspired to drink … but that’s another story.
Then there is ‘Drop-Call’ feedback (also known as DC), which is when everyone starts to ‘LEAVE MEETING’, claiming broadband issues.  
NOTE: AC/DC follow each other in case of a negative AC.
Outside of zoom-room-doom-gloom we face situations where so called ‘constructive feedback’ quickly turns in to ‘careless, confusing criticism’.  
Take the ‘Sandwich’ technique, which wraps negative feedback in praise. This is usually provided by people who hold a management position and have taken a course on how best to give annual appraisals without getting a black eye.
‘Poo Sandwich’ is an offshoot of ‘Sandwich’ except there’s no cushion, just brutal excrement, as when the last event organizer said,
‘Your inspirational speech inspired people … to fall asleep.’
‘Why did you leave your day job?’
Not even a dozen Andrex toilet rolls complete with cute puppies can clean up that mess. And for the record, I didn’t leave my day job, my day job left me. It was a redundancy affair.   
Then there’s ‘Pity’ feedback, which is self-explanatory and occurs when a sympathetic person catches me at the bar drowning my sorrows ‘Sniff, sniff, I’m a failure’.
‘Your voice projected well…’
Thanks. It's called a microphone.
‘It’s getting there …’
Universal speak for 'It's getting nowhere' 
Finally, there is ‘Handheld’ feedback. This is when a more experienced speaker watches your performance and provides you with a dedicated ‘one to one’. I got very good advice, although I wasn’t too keen on holding hands while listening to all the information.
Don’t get me wrong I have gotten some great feedback. The problem is it seems you can’t get positive feedback without getting a barrage of negatives, with no suggestions as to how to improve!
Exception is the CRC method (Commend, Recommend, Commend), where feedback becomes a motivational tool to get even better.  
Commend: 'You were brilliant! Wonderfully articulate and engaging and just the best thing ever!'  
OK, a little OTT, but I love compliments!   
Recommend: ‘Your ending is a  tiny bit weak, but I have come up with 100 suggestions to make it stronger, have a look. ' 
That's more like it! If there's an issue, help me solve it.   
Commend: 'You're more than a STAR! You're the MILKY WAY of stars!'
Well, if you're gonna praise, why hold back?    

​

Alas! The client-sales relationship. It used to be so simple! When I started it was, ‘I’m the Almighty Client and you’re just a low life salesperson, about as trustworthy as a profile photo in a dating App’.
I loved it! There was comfort knowing Almighty Client knew it all and didn’t want to waste time with my input (not that I had any).
All his requirements were mapped out on a RFP (request for proposal) that made War and Peace look like a tweet, plus a ‘120-slide-this-should-not-take-long-power-point-presentation’ containing enough data to rival the human genome.
Was I intimidated? Of course not. I had my ‘techie expert’ translating it into a workable solution. Me? I’d just sit back and do the numbers, my commission numbers that is.
Once the deal closed, I was home free. Things go wrong? Blame ‘techie expert ‘, blame the users, the client, global warming, the peace process, blame our DNA. Just don’t blame me, I’m just the salesperson. It was bliss!
Well, those days are OVER. And I’m not liking it one bit. Who wants to hear Almighty Client doubtfully say ‘With the market changing so fast, we’re not sure about our future requirements? Could you help?’
Are you out of your mind? Don’t you remember I’m a low life salesperson as reliable as the UK’s weather forecast?
I don’t want to be ‘part of the process’ or worse still, ‘share responsibility’. That sounds like consulting. I don’t want to be a consultant. All the consultants I know are out of work.
I should be happy. After years of trying to improve our reputation employing techniques such as TRUST SELLING, RELATIONSHIP SELLING, STRATEGIC SELLING (which all boil down to don’t be a financially driven piece of manure SELLING) clients now trust us.
And it’s not only sales people that have changed, so has technology. New products crop up so fast that yesterday’s best buy could be tomorrow’s Amazon Ring (remember? In 2020 those models were catching fire leading to a product recall). Trust me your client doesn’t want to be caught holding that firecracker.
So here are three key areas where we sales people should be ready to kick a$$, or as a polite person would say, ‘bring our expertise and excel’:

1. MARKET

Yes, MARKETING’s beautiful people provide substantial stats, great graphs and awesome arrows (pointing nowhere), however they’re unlikely to get their designer shoes dirty on the street. Sales does. We get first-hand information on what works, what doesn’t, how, when and why. We have more data than they have shoes. (I.E., a lot).     2.PRODUCT
Gone are the days when we knew little to nothing about our products and services and relied on ‘techie expert’. All we have left is that old joke: What do you call a ‘techie’ when he turns 30? Your boss.
Today salespeople know products inside out, left to right, up and down and when required, we can even get into ‘techie-talk’ (yawn zzzzzz). This know-how assures the client a successful project. Let’s face it – nobody does it better than sales. (OK, maybe modesty is not one of my strong suits).

    3. COMPETITION
Remember that saying: keep your friends close, your competition closer. Not only because it’s key to selling, but I’ve always thought that if things get pear shaped the competition is the first point of call. I’m not proud. I’m in sales.
In summary, the Client-Sales relationship has changed for the better. Sales are not only key in helping the client find a solution but we stick around and make sure it works.
That’s enough sales talk. I’m off to get some coffee, because things might have changed, but as Alex Baldwin says in the ultimate sales play/film Glengarry Glen Ross  ‘Coffee's for closers only’.
___________

​

You’ve heard the phrase: there’s no such thing as a stupid question. In sales there is. The questions you don’t ask because you’re chicken. 

We've spent a year in lockdown. It looks like we're coming out of it...or are we?

The other day I met a colleague for lunch whom I've only ever spoken to on zoom or slack. It was an absolute win for me when she said:
'You look exactly how you look online.' This may have actually been a bigger win than her thinking I was 7 years younger than I actually am.

Conversely, I've also met a few people now in the flesh having only met them at virtual networking events. I've certainly had to do a double take and/or squint in some instances to ensure a person is who I deemed them to be online.

Now, you may be thinking this is an age old point. Well it is, however in the last week, I've seen a number of posts from people about refreshing their websites or that they are out and about getting some fresh head shots. This is great, if you feel comfortable having some done! If not, I'd invite you to reflect on how old some of the shots you have of yourself are. 

Whether it be for that next date, or for a role or a job, ensuring that impression is as authentic as possible is key. How do we determine that:

• Recency of photograph - for professional shots,  some people may be sympathetic to the fact that a profile pic may be 12-18 months old due to lockdown, however be honest with yourself, have you changed much in that time?
• Realism of photograph - these days most up-to-date modern mobile phones can do a decent job. Not selfies but having someone take a couple of shots for you. If you know you look different compared with pre-lockdown, time to show it
• Relevance of photograph - I come at this from a 'work has changed' angle. A professional, corporate looking headshot has evolved. I concur with the view that your Linkedin profile picture is not the same as some of the other social channels and that you can still look smart based on what you are wearing as opposed to looking too formal.

​As important as having an up-to-date CV and constant improvement and review of anything that leaves an impression of you, I can't stress enough the importance of investing (time or money) in that something that tells a thousand words of your story right now.

Photo Credit: Warren Sheng

Join the Conversation. It's Mental!

​

The Chronicles of Sonia (Life in Lockdown Lifting)

As pubs and shops re-open, I can’t help but remember the day lockdown started; March 23 rd , 2020. I had so many hopes and dreams! Now I just have Netflix.  

Yes, ladies and gentlemen after watching Netflix in its totality I feel like my remote control; old, broken and the START button is stuck. 

I used to be a lean, mean comedy machine! Now I’m just a lump in front of a screen. What happened?

‘THE ACHIEVERS’ is what happened! You might know some of them. Determined individuals who used lockdown to better themselves, turning the crisis into an 'opportunity'. Unlike some of us who turned the crisis into an excuse to drink.

'THE ACHIEVERS' learnt to speak eight languages, did MBA’s, PHD’s and memorized the human genome. Me? I learnt to drink straight from a Tequila bottle. (Squeeze ¼ lime in and dab rim with salt).

If that wasn’t enough, I get a letter telling me I’m old. Hey I already know that! Does the NHS have to rub it in?

‘We have sent you this letter as people in your age group are now able to get the coronavirus vaccine.’

Translation:

‘We have sent you this letter because you’re old and probably don’t even know what an email is. Book your jab THIS INSTANT, so you don’t forget.’

Despite my developing decrepitude, I manage to book the appointment and a couple of weeks later find myself in the vaccine center. The place is amazing! Full of courageous people exposing their upper arms freely, no need for nurses to hold them down forcefully.

Like they did with me. Yes, I was a cry-baby … so what? I didn’t even get a biscuit or a sweetie!  What kind of a vaccine roll out I this? It takes the biscuit!

I wasn’t the only one disappointed. Conspiracy theorists getting the jab left with a chip on their shoulder, I mean a chip on their upper arm.

Back home I found out about the vaccine war. Not the one between countries, but the war on ‘Who got it worst’. Plastered all over social media, it was like a moaner’s convention:

‘I got headaches, heavy flu symptoms and a sore arm. It lasted for days!’

‘Oh yeah? Well, I got all that plus shivers, bad stomach and my arm got infected! Not wanting to be left out of the pity party I posted, ‘My arm fell off!’

The truth is I was sooooo ill with side effects! I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy! Actually, I would wish it on my worst enemy: ex-husband, the tax man, HR ladies who fired me … it's a long list. 

Nasty nostalgia aside, now that I've had my jab, I can't wait to get back to the office! Don’t get me wrong, I have a lovely office in what used to be a tiny walk-in wardrobe. The state agent described it as ‘cosy and intimate, ideal to get away from it all’. Yes, including my sanity.

Remember TGIF - Thank God it’s Friday? Now it’s more like, ‘Is it Friday? Or Sunday … what’s my name?’.

The office had so many perks! A desk, free pencils … even toilets! We didn’t even have to clean them! We had an office microwave, never mind everything came out smelling of a curry someone heated in 1985.

I miss the office martyr (every office has one), she’s usually called  Lizzie. Lizzie has a cold, the flue, pneumonia … she still shows up for work! Lizzie gives birth and 20 minutes later she’s at her desk with the baby, placenta flying.

I even miss the Human Resource ladies. They always made me feel so …terrified. With their PIPS (Performance Improvement Plan), which were there to help you out. Yes, help you out of the door.

Exhilarating times! Like when the HR lady said, ‘Sonia I’m afraid you’re on the redundancy list’. Two days later she came back ‘We made a mistake you’re not on the list! It was a glitch!’

A month later I was still fired. It was ‘The Dress Rehearsal Redundancy! HR had invented a new way of making me feel worthless.

So much for office life … now I'm back in my wardrobe, thinking that virus or no virus, I better move on with my life! Maybe get a new remote control to start with.

As for those HR ladies? When they get their jab? They’re on MY list.

And that ain’t no glitch.