The important thing is that you build the concept of pinging into your workflow. Some organizations go so far as to make pinging integral to their organizational processes. I'm told that the consulting firm McKinsey and Company actually has a rule of thumb that one hundred days after a new CEO takes charge of a company, McKinsey assigns one of their consultants to call and see how McKinsey might help. One hundred days is, McKinsey figures, just enough time for the new CEO to feel that he or she knows what the issues and problems are, but not enough time to have gotten his or her arms around the solutions.
With pinging gaining credibility as an important business practice, it shouldn't surprise you that some ingenious new software has been developed to make it easier. Plaxo is a neat new program, which I mentioned briefly in the chapter on technology, that I've found really helpful. The software this company has developed keeps people connected by solving the common but frustrating problem of out-of-date contact information. The software goes into your database of contacts, pulls out everybody with an e-mail address, sends the record that you have of them, and asks them to update it. When they do so, it sends you back an e-mail stating their new information. Automated pinging!
I do it every six months or so and have become a true devotee. Not long ago, I did a Plaxo update. A few days later, I got an e-mail from a former prospect I'd lost contact with who wrote, "We talked a year ago. Nothing came of it. Now might be a better time to talk." The e-mail turned into a two-million-dollar account.
The medium and message of a ping runs the gamut. There is the "I just called to say I care" ping that I use for closer contacts. Essentially, I want to convey the message, "Hey, it has been too long since we've spoken and I wanted you to know that I miss you, that you are important to me." And then there are the more professional versions of the above. But always try to make any message as personal as possible.
For people important to my career or business, I tend to favor the value-add ping. Here I'm trying to provide something of value in my communication, recognizing when someone I know gets a promotion, or the company he or she runs has a good financial quarter, or he or she has a child. I also like to send relevant articles, short notes of advice, or other small tokens that convey that I am thinking of them and am eager to help.
Get creative. I have one friend who carries a digital camera wherever he goes. When he returns from a conference or workrelated travels, he pings the people he met with a quick hello and a picture attached. It's a great idea that has worked very well for him. I've got another friend who uses music in a similar manner. When he meets someone new, he asks the person what kind of music he or she enjoys. This guy has a growing digital music library that's off the charts, and he's always on top of the latest grooves. When he pings, he might write, "It was a pleasure meeting you the other day. You mentioned your love of jazz. It just so happens that I have a rare recording of Miles Davis. I thought you'd get a kick out of it. Let me know what you think."
Once you've cultivated a contact with a new associate or friend, nurture it by pinging. It's the Miracle-Gro for your blooming garden of friends and associates.
The Pinging Staple: Birthdays
Standard advice on acknowledging the events in people's lives suggests sending Christmas or Chanukah cards. The holidays, in my opinion, are not the best time to focus your pinging energies. W h y ? Because it's hard to differentiate yourself from the other 1 5 0 people doing the same thing.
My personal favorite pinging occasion remains birthdays, the neglected stepchild of life's celebrated moments. As you get older, the people around you start forgetting your big day (mostly because they think they want to forget their own). M o m might not call a day late, but your brother or sister w i l l . Your friends will figure, " W h y remind the poor guy he's getting up there in age?" Before long, that residual disappointment turns into resentment, and the resentment turns into apathy. Or at least the appearance of apathy.
" N a h , birthdays aren't my thing," I hear people say all the time. You persuasively tell your family, "Don't do anything b i g , but if you do something, make it small."
W e l l , I don't believe it. I'm onto your game, friend. You care, and so does everybody else.
We've been conditioned since childhood, despite our best efforts to be "Birthday Scrooges" in adult life, that that day is all about y o u . It is your day, and it has been since you were a kid. And even when you're seventy years o l d , deep down inside, despite all your protestations, a little recognition of that seventy-year-old life feels good even if you don't get a big red w a g o n anymore.
Don't kid yourself—EVERYONE CARES ABOUT HIS OR HER BIRTHDAY!
I was in N e w York some years back and up popped a reminder on my Palm: "Birthday—Kent Blossil." Kent was the man w h o successfully got past my gatekeeper. W h e n I met Kent that day, and I received his contact information, I asked for his birth date, as I try to do with everyone. It's not intrusive, and most people forget the moment after they tell me.
Kent was a M o r m o n . Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, he had upward of ten brothers and sisters. W i t h such a large family, y o u ' d think the man's phone would be ringing off the hook on his birthday.
I hadn't spoken to him for over a year. It was a busy day for me, and I didn't see the reminder until close to 3 : 0 0 P.M. that afternoon. Generally, I like to make birthday calls in the early morning. This w a y I get someone's voice mail, and when they come in to work that morning, they're greeted with my rendition of " H a p p y Birthday." I can't tell you how many N e w York City cabdrivers must think I'm an utter lunatic.
So when Kent actually picked up his phone that afternoon, my personal Pavarotti of " H a p p y Birthday" greeted him. No greetings. No niceties. I just let it rip.
Normally, I get laughter and a grateful "Thanks." This time, after I had finished, the phone went silent. "Kent, you there? It's your birthday, right?" Nothing. Not a w o r d . I thought I'd made a jerk out of myself and missed the day or something.
"Kent?"
Finally he stammers out, "Yeah." He was choked up, audibly holding back tears.
"You all right?"
"You remembered my birthday?" he said. People are always shocked by this.
"You know, Keith, this year none of my brothers or sisters or family .. . well, nobody remembered my birthday. N o b o d y remembered," he said. "Thank you so much."
He never forgot. People never d o .
21. Find Anchor Tenants and Feed Them
When I was an insolvent student working his way through business school, my apartment wasn't what you'd call a spotless designer residence. Minimal, yes. A bit grungy, definitely. Still, it never stopped me from throwing outrageously fun dinner parties where I enjoyed the company of good friends—and a few strangers.
It was in those days that I learned how powerful the art of throwing dinner parties could be in creating wonderful memories and strengthening relationships in the process. Today I can safely say my strongest links have been forged at the table. The companionable effects of breaking bread—not to mention drinking a few glasses of wine—bring people together.