Get Thee Behind Me

Photo: Warner Bros.

Getting used to the multiple-story paradigm: Newspaper pieces by day and a magazine piece by night. The immediacy of newspaper work and the longer game of magazine profiles.

I am grateful for it all.

Sometimes, self-doubt raises its ugly head. Despite scads of published stories and a long and proven track record, the little demon on my shoulder starts to whisper in my ear: “You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, old boy. You’re going to blow past your deadline and what you deliver will be an jumbled mess. They are going to find out that you’re an imposter…”

Fuck that guy.

We do what we can with what we have – and right now I have several opportunities that I mean to make good on. I am confident that I will render the appropriate service, do the work and deliver the goods.

Old man resistance is lying.

He always does.

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Are You A Man or A Mouse – Squeak Up!

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I have trouble speaking up.

But when I do speak up, it’s like a pressure relief valve has been activated and I almost always feel better.

If that’s the case, why am I reluctant to speak my mind?

Although I might display people-pleasing characteristics, I am very protective of my time. With a full dance card, this is necessary.

Where did this come from? Why is it important to me that people like me?

Was there some sort of childhood trauma that has been buried for decades – perhaps a sense of not being enough?

Why am I asking so many questions here?

Is this simply because I am an introvert?

I overcompensate for this introversion by acting like an extrovert – joking, talking louder than I should – forcing myself into a state of gregariousness  that runs counter to what I believe to be my true nature.

It’s well documented that introverts find themselves drained after social gatherings and extroverts come away with renewed energy.

Where am I on this spectrum?

Much of my life is spent in public-facing situations. I work at a popular cigar shop in Myrtle Beach, and when we’re in the tourist season, it’s wall-to-wall people. As a working musical performer, I’m the focal point. When I perform with my brother – at least that’s split up.

At these gigs, I make it a point to introduce myself to people and hand them a card. Seeing friends at gigs makes me comfortable.

I’m not saying forcing myself to be more outgoing is totally uncomfortable, but if you see me at home, I’m a different animal.

Ask my partner, Brenda. She’ll tell you that I am usually quiet – working on newspaper or magazine assignments in my office or playing the piano. This quiet is sometimes interspersed with perhaps a conversation with myself or the blurting out of a lyric that is stuck in my head.

The older I get, the more comfortable I am in social situations – but outside of these walls, I don’t believe I am actually myself. I’m a fictional character.

Like Julie Andrews in “Victor Victoria” – a “woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman” – I’m an introvert pretending to be an extrovert.

What’s up with that?

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Pick Up the Phone

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With competence comes confidence.

Do the thing.

My Achilles heel might be my call reluctance – and I’m not cold-calling people, trying to sell reverse mortgages.

I’m cold-calling people for quotes for newspaper stories.

Sometimes, people think I’m trying to sell them something. I suppose I am selling then on the idea of talking to me.

It’s an integral part of being a reporter, yet I tense up before I pick up the phone.

With the advent of the smartphone, the culture has changed.

I almost never pick up the phone if I see an unknown number – one that isn’t already in my extensive contacts list. Why should I expect anybody else to do the same?

To help things along, I usually try to email or message a potential source – explaining what I want to talk to them about. This is much like turning a cold prospect into a warm lead.

I used to have a note on my bulletin board with the message “ALWAYS CALL FIRST” scrawled in bold red Sharpie. I threw it away.

I can compare my call reluctance to stage fright.

Whenever I play a solo show, I can feel myself tightening up. It takes a couple of songs for me to relax and hit my stride. After that, I wonder why I was so nervous in the first place.

Surely this is the same with calling.

I’ll get there.

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