Earlier this week my good friend Robert Bluey penned a blog post, “You don’t have a friend in me,” in which he effectively argues that when it comes to Facebook, one should focus on having a network which is smaller and more meaningful versus accepting anyone under the sun as your “friend” in order to have a big network.
I thought a lot about Rob’s post, concluded he was spot-on, and decided to make a New Years resolution to go on a Facebook Friend Diet. My goal was to get under 1,500 “friends” by July 4.
Over the holiday, in between trips to the beach, I took to the task of tending my own garden — removing “friends” that I had never met, never communicated with, and had zero interaction with. At first it was a challenge. It’s never easy to “remove” someone who had asked for friendship at one point or another. It was particularly difficult to remove folks I may have known at one point or another or colleagues that I worked with at some time. And Facebook itself makes it technically difficult to remove folks en masse.
But then I started thinking about what Facebook is and why it’s so valuable to me. It’s a place for my friends and family to stay connected with me and where I go to stay connected to them. Facebook, friends, is not about “you.” It is instead about “me.” It is about my network. Unique to Facebook, it is also an important place for “me” to stay connected in new ways to the brands and causes I care about and a new water cooler to share with others that support.
I also thought about how I had been treating my network — as Rob pointed out to me in what felt like a direct media intervention — I had been neglecting and abusing them by simply importing my Tweets rather then creating new and engaging content. To remedy the situation I unlinked my Twitter account and stopped “Twittering” within Facebook. The mediums are different — each with a valuable role but only if used appropriately. Now I’m adding content which is exclusive to Facebook (or at least written specifically for the medium). The reward for doing this is that I’m already seeing interactions on my content increase.
Regarding my New Years Resolution, I crushed it. My network on Facebook is now around 1,300 folks — 98% of which I know personally, have met, and would consider them friends or respected colleagues. There is still work to do but it’s quite refreshing to login and recognize nearly every single person I’ve agreed to receive updates from.
My plan moving forward is to not take any of my “friends” for granted, to continue to tend my garden, and to appropriately use the platform exactly how it was intended. Having an effective online presence in direct media is never easy, there are no short-cuts, and you need to listen to good advice when it presents itself. As always, I am willing to do the work necessary to ensure success and I’m glad I’ve got good friends willing to speak up when I’m not living up to my end of the relationship.
Music is one of the most important elements of my life.
At a young age, I was lucky enough to have an older brother who was in to top-notch bands like The Cure, U2, Grateful Dead, and others. It’s fun to think back to those days when I’d hole up his room in our basement, sit on his water bed, play Zelda or Castlevania on our Nintendo with the sound off, and listen to his collection of music. It was how I spent a lot of my time (when the pool was closed).
Still today I spend a lot of time listening, thinking, investigating, researching, discovering, and enjoying music. My all time favorite web destination besides Twitter + Facebook is Stereogum. When I get home from the office, it’s the first site I’m going to. When I work – I’ll kick on some music and pound through writing a proposal or a strategy memo for a client. When I’m happiest is at a concert with the people that matter to me in my life.
Living in Washington, DC and working in politics, I’ve also found music to be a great way to build and deepen relationships with those who look beyond politics when it counts. Indeed nothing makes me more pleased then seeing a Tweet from someone who I follow on Twitter (or who follows me) responding to something music-related. The typical Tweet goes something like this: “I may not agree with @DavidAll on the issues, but I dig his taste in music.”
In June of 2006, the National Journal did a mini-profile on the music scene in Washington and highlighted me for it that you probably never saw:
Washington may not have a signature song like New York City or San Francisco. But there is a running sound track in the life of the capital. Whether sung by Usher or Radiohead, the tunes accompanying big and small dealings across the city on any given day sound nothing like the music you hear when you’re put on hold. And one of the best ways to tune in is to go out. David All, a spokesman for Rep. Jack Kingston, R-Ga., is among the members of an unofficial live-music caucus made up of personalities from political Washington. It meets regularly, but usually spontaneously, at places like the 9:30 Club, Iota and the Black Cat.
“There’s a small group of concertgoers, friends who kind of stick together,” All said. “The Washington, D.C., area has just amazing music.”
All remembered a recent Pat Green concert that was thick with Capitol Hill staffers; so are many concerts at Verizon Center. But the more eclectic the music is, the more exclusive the crowd becomes — and the deeper the connection goes. Seeing someone from Capitol Hill or K Street at a Decemberists show, for example, is altogether different from seeing someone at a Beck concert. “If you go to a concert like Interpol or the Strokes, you may only see four or five familiar people,” All said. “You kind of click with them because they get it. They get it.”
To conclude a post about what music has meant and continues to mean to me, I’ve thought about what music selection I want to leave you with. Quite frankly, I thought choosing just one music video or song would be easy. It is not.
I’d like to post a video/song from the first concert I ever attended: Grateful Dead, Buckeye Lake (Ohio), 7/29/94 but sadly I can’t find anything good to share. But make no mistake, that concert is what turned me on to live music.
The most influential band to me – the one I can trace my love for British music – is The Cure. Finding just one song to share is difficult, but this excellent, acoustic version of “Lovesong” does a good job of highlighting Robert Smith’s unbelievable song-writing abilities and great voice. Hearing it will always take me back to my earliest memories. Therefore, enjoy.
It’s my “Place in this Universe” — part of an interactive exhibit at the Modern Museum of Art in New York City where patrons were asked to put their back against their wall and mark, with a black pen, their first name next to their height. This act denoted their place.
I didn’t actually write my name, just imagined that this is where I’d put my name. My place.
On Friday I had the opportunity to join one of CBS’ most respected and well-known faces, Bob Schieffer, for a conversation about some of the, erm, fishy, tactics being used by the White House’s “new” media team.
Click here to watch the full video of Washington Unplugged which includes the White House’s Linda Douglas explaining their tactics (and my response). You can watch the excerpt here:
It was a true honor to be a part of this conversation. Bob Schieffer is a stand-up reporter and his staff was great.
My first trip to South Beath two weeks ago was incredible. We stayed at the Delano Hotel which is stylish, comfortable, and filled with good people.
The gem of the hotel is its pool and the scene that surrounds it:
On Sunday we spent the day enjoying that gem — the warm water, old and new friends, the bright sun, and the poolside service. Speaking of service, Diego was always on top of it and clearly enjoyed his job:
At the pool we met Ben who is the manager of the Gipsy Kings. Seriously cool cat:
Rumors that Ohio Senator George V. Voinovich was planning on retiring have been confirmed today by a statement released by his office. I worked for Senator Voinovich from April 2002 – April 2004 as first his deputy communications director and later his speechwriter.
I’m posting his statement in its entirety here:
After prayerful consideration and much thought, my wife Janet and I have decided that I will not seek a third term in the United States Senate.
As I spent time with my family during the holidays and celebrated Janet’s birthday, I reflected on God’s blessings on our family: my wife, our three children, our seven grandchildren and our health.
I also spent time thinking about the health of our country. In my lifetime of public service, I have never seen the country in such perilous circumstances. Not since the Great Depression and the Second World War have we been confronted with such challenges, as a nation and as a world.
Those of us that have been given the honor to serve in these times must step up to the plate and put this country on a course that will see it through these harrowing times and make it strong and viable for the 21st century.
These next two years in office, for me, will be the most important years that I have served in my entire political career.
I must devote my full time, energy and focus to the job I was elected to do, the job in front of me, which seeking a third term – with the money-raising and campaigning that it would require – would not allow me to do.
In addition, Janet and I have concluded that once my second term is complete, we should devote ourselves to our children and grandchildren. We have been blessed with good health, but we’re no spring chickens. In 2010, I will be 74 years old and will have served 44 years in public office, having been elected to more public offices than any other person in Ohio history.
I am grateful for the opportunity that I have had to serve my statehouse district, my county, city, state and nation and feel good about the fact that with the help of some extraordinary people, many of whom are no longer with us, I have made a difference and will, with God’s help and a great team in my Senate office, continue to make a difference during these next two critical years. We intend not to wind down—but to wind up, just like I did in the Mayor’s office as well as the Governor’s office.
We have a great deal to do in this Congress, and I will continue to focus on the areas that matter most: providing the nation a responsible stimulus package; jump-starting our credit markets; re-establishing confidence in the housing market and stemming the tide on mortgage foreclosures; harmonizing our nation’s economic, energy and environmental policies; ensuring safe and stable highways; and continuing to improve the personnel and management of the federal government.
After the next two years, it will be time to give someone else the opportunity to serve our great state in the Senate, someone who can devote full time to organizing their campaign and raising the money necessary to win.
This has not been an easy decision for us. I still have the fire in my belly to do the work of our nation, but after serving the next two years, it will be time to step back and spend the rest of our time with our children and grandchildren, siblings and extended family and friends.
We both are confident that God has a plan for us to use the time, energy and talents that He has given us to make a difference in another way.
It was an honor to have worked for Senator Voinovich — a man who always put God, his family, and Ohio before all else.
They always say it’s about the little things. This is one of those little things.
When I first brought Jackson the pup home this past weekend, he spent a majority of his time slipping-and-sliding around the hardwood floors — running a marathon on ice. The stairs which acted as a natural barrier always interested him as he’d prop up on the first step on his front two legs and look upward curiously.
But as you can see in the picture to the right, Jackson is standing atop the three stairs which separate my living room (his play area) to the rest of the place – he had finally climbed up and down without falling or stopping – a big accomplishment.
Having a pup is a lot of work — even more than I had imagined. However, it’s the little things like yesterday that make it all worth it.
One of my favorite parts about being home for Christmas is getting time to spend with my Grandma and Grandpa — two truly amazing influences on me. Love you guys.
On Monday I had the opportunity to join my good friend David Almacy for a chat with conservative modern media general, Hugh Hewitt, on his radio program about the need for the Republican Party to better embrace technology. Also included in this audio file is Justin Hart’s conversation with Hugh on the same subject.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Twitter, a micro-blogging community filled with folks answering the question, “What are you doing?” in 140-characters or less. Twitterers can receive updates from others via cell phone (SMS), the website, or from dozens of different applications and browser plug-ins.
A few months ago, my staff and I wrote a Twitter 101 Guide to better explain what Twitter is and why it’s an important communication tool. Since we posted it, 2,740 folks have signed up for the guide and have hopefully started Twittering. (We ask for emails to receive the guide so that we can keep those folks updated with new versions and interesting articles about Twitter.)
I love staying connected with friends, colleagues, and folks I only know via their Twittering through the service. It’s even better when I meet up with someone I know extremely well in “real life” and we don’t have to waste time on the typical catch up conversation because we’ve always been connected.
When I first started DavidAllis.com, I didn’t Twitter that much. I’d post here and broadcast that post automatically to my Twitter account via Twitterfeed. Now I Tweet (post updates) much more often than I post here. Readers of this space probably recognize that. Transitioning back to Twitter for quick updates has allowed me to re-focus the purpose of DavidAllis.com to a much more personal conversation. I like it.
Part of enhancing and making the Twitter experience better for you depends, well, on you. You see, Twitter is all about your network. Follow the folks you find interesting and encourage your friends to sign up and join your network.
If you’re a conservative, one place to find interesting folks is TopConservativesonTwitter.org. It’s an interesting place filled with thousands of new and, ahem, experienced Twitterers. Activists, radio hosts, political leaders, authors, journalists, bloggers, and others are the folks you’ll find there.
If you’re not yet on Twitter, do sign up. Follow me by sending “follow DavidAll” as an update. Send me a message by typing @DavidAll [message here]” and let me know that you’ve joined the conversation. I’ll be quick to follow you back and welcome you to the community.
To be honest, the challenge you will face immediately is getting beyond the first few weeks of not understanding why Twitter matters. The first post of most new Twitterers is “Trying to figure out Twitter.”
My advice is to not give up. Give it an honest shot and you’ll find the reward.
There’s one thing I look forward to every year: deer season.
It’s a chance for me to set aside everything I do in Washington and escape to the beautiful woods of Pennsylvania. Nothing buzzing. Incoming emails remain in the inbox. And the iPhone is turned off (or at least the ringer is). Just me, my rifle, a packed lunch, and the woods. And, on occasion, an amazing amount of wildlife — big and small — graces me with its awesomeness.
This season was no different.
On Sunday, I rented a Kia of some sort and drove up to Centre County, PA to stay with my Uncle David and his family. [Aside: Renting a car always makes me miss my bimmer; but upon returning the rental, I always feel better knowing that my car isn't sitting on the street getting dinged by irresponsible parkers. Owning a nice car that you love is nearly impossible in DC without a garage.]
After dueling bumper-to-bumper traffic making a 3.5 hour drive turn to six, I arrived at my uncles place in State College where I was greeted warmly by family I hadn’t seen for a year. We ate dinner — a delicious salad, pasta, and a nice glass of red wine. As per usual, we drove to the local Wal-Mart (why do they hire a greeter?) for my out-of-state license and some random gear add-ons that I absolutely needed for the hunt.
We turned in early knowing that 4 AM was right around the corner.
The weatherman called for a delightful blend of snow and rain so we packed the rain gear. Fortunately, neither greeted us that brisk morning as it turned out being crystal clear without a cloud in the sky. We drove out to my uncles farm, sipping on coffee, talking politics and what’s wrong with the GOP, anticipating the day.
My uncle set up at a spot overlooking a few of his lower meadows. He likes being the sniper taking the long-shot. As has become customary, I scurried up the mountain to the tree stand I’ve come to know and love. I remember just before stepping into the woods staring up at the stars thinking — this is nature at its finest. Upon climbing into my chariot in the tree I sat patiently. Listening.
The turkeys are always the first to wake. The tree next to me sounded like it was tipping over as a giant turkey descended. As quickly as the noise woke the tree next to me, it stopped. Silence. Again.
As daylight breaks, you see shadows. You can’t quite make them out, but you know that they are deer moving. You sit. Patiently. Listening. Staring into the dark trying to make out the shadows.
As the sunlight begins to fill the forest — cracks of rifles break the silence. On opening day in Pennsylvania they say that more than 1 million armed hunters fill the forest. Given the scores of rifle shots you hear in those first few hours, I believe it.
With crunchy snow on the ground, you hear them before you see them. They’re scared. The doe and young bucks are anxious. They move without understanding what exactly they’re running from. They move in packs of 6-10. You look to the noise and doubtless see them running.
On the first day I must have seen 60 or so deer including half-a-dozen bucks.
I didn’t shoot. I sighted a few. One or two walked within 15 yards of me. I could have but I chose to let them go. Why? Because they weren’t the Prize. They were small bucks, running with the doe, scared. Given the amount of deer I was seeing I expected the Prize to turn the corner and present itself.
Sadly, he didn’t show up.
Around 11 AM the cold sets in. You sit there tightening and releasing every muscle in your body hoping to get the blood boiling to warm you up. It’s useless. The rifle cracks subside. The deer have stopped moving and have taken to laying down in thick cover.
It was time for lunch and warmth. I walked down through the meadow hunting my favorite line every step of the way. You see them moving. You hear them calling you back for more challenging you to hunt them more.
By the time I reached my uncle’s barn he already had his deer cleaned, headless, and hanging to age. My cousin Drew had arrived earlier and was hanging out learning the ways of the responsible deer hunter from my uncle. My uncle, a doctor, judiciously tends to his kill and teaches every step of the way. A true sportsman and a great father.
We ate lunch and decided that for the afternoon hunt, we’d all do it together. I was the hunter — they were the observers. We spent a few hours walking the meadow and sitting in the tree stand. Nothing.
The day ended and I was a bit discouraged. I had so many opportunities yet I didn’t take the shot. As quickly as opening day had come it was over.
On to day two.
Day two is a much more relaxed day. You’re pretty beat from waking up early the morning before but you’re still full of energy and optimism for what could be the day you find your Prize.
We got out to the farm around 9 AM. I had decided the night before that I was going to mix it up and try to hunt the far side of the mountain. Immediately upon walking into the woods I spotted a deer about 150 yards down the road. I sighted it. Doe. [Ed. note: In PA, you have to have an anterless tag to shoot anything other than a buck of which I did not have.]
As I walked slowly toward the road and in to the woods I heard fierce rustling. I looked up to see countless shadows flying through the woods, crossing before me at record speed. All doe. I continued my walk encountering at least a dozen turkey chatting it up. The turkeys seem to know they’re out of season.
After stalking the far side, I headed back to my old faithful stand determined to find the Prize. I sat in my stand for two hours and not a single deer walked by. Absolutely. Dead. Quiet.
Defeated I returned to the barn where my uncle met me for lunch. I was willing to leave then but he said that this was “my hunt” and that he’d hang around for a few more hours if I wanted to give it a go.
Feeling re-energized (gatorade, an apple, and a ham sandwich will do it) I made my way to the far side stand — my first time in the single-shooter stand. I took a seat sitting patiently. Listening. Five minutes later, I hear the sound of snow crunching — could this be it? I looked over my shoulder with bright eyes to see a family of deer — at least 4-5 — all doe.
Knowing that where there is doe there is usually a buck I resisted movement and sat patiently with my scope trained on the group. After five minutes, what appeared to be the largest of the doe stood up straight, pounded its front hoofs, and stared me down, smelling the air knowing that something wasn’t right. Within 10 seconds they scattered. Was it something I said?
I sat in the stand for a few more hours before I knew it was time to head in. I didn’t have a watch on but I just knew it was that time. My season was over. Fruitless.
Fruitless in the sense that I didn’t take a shot at my Prize. However, I loved every minute of it. For me, as a young hunter with much to learn and many years to hunt, it’s already not about the kill or the shot. I took a buck on my first day years ago.
No, for me it’s about waking up early on opening day, enjoying nature, being with family I rarely get to see, and yes, sitting in my tree stand with a beautiful rifle that’s mine.
On the drive back to DC I knew what I was returning to. Hundreds of emails. Calls to return. Politics.
But I also knew that next year I’d be back at it again. Sitting in my tree stand patiently. Listening. Hoping that the Prize would present itself.
I posted earlier today (via iPhone from the train up to NYC) my thoughts on what election day means to me. Read it over at TechRepublican or the MySpace election blog where I’m guest blogging.
I came up to NYC to participate in election night coverage from the CNN Grill at the Time Warner Center. I’m not exactly what role we’ll play but we’re expected to get a few hits on CNN.com (maybe more).
Either way, no complaints. The CNN Grill is packed with bloggers, media personalities, and folks that you don’t expect to see every day (like John Norris of MTV News).
The best way to keep track of what I’m talking about and reading tonight is to check in on my Twitter account (@DavidAll) and my Flickr account for mobile uploads.
Here’s a quick video interview I just did with video blogging guru Steve Garfield.
Nicole Trafton wrote a profile piece in Doublethink on how I got to where I am today.
Here are the first few grafs:
If you don’t have 500 Facebook friends, David All won’t hire you.
All is the president of the eponymous David All Group (DAG), “the nation’s first conservative Web 2.0 agency.” All founded the group in 2007—the same year he launched Slatecard.com, a fundraising site for Republicans, and TechRepublican, a blog focusing on the intersection of politics and technology. All is not just looking to bridge the technological divide between Democrats and Republicans—he’s moving one step ahead.
“Democrats don’t really understand the stuff I’m thinking. They say they do, but they don’t,” says All, scribbling on a piece of paper as he sits behind his tidy desk. The 29-year-old, Diet Coke-drinking entrepreneur is fascinated by the “flattening of the world” brought about by the Internet, and wants to help the Grand Old Party leap into the new era.
