Ian Sohn’s Post

On the news of Bill Walton's passing, I finally read what many consider the greatest sports book of all time: David Halberstam's "The Breaks of the Game". It delivered, big. I was particularly struck to learn Walton grew up with a debilitating stutter. And that he never allowed himself to be listed as 7' tall, fearing people would think him a freak. It explains so much about how he played, how he lived. The spotlight wasn't a comfortable place for the great Bill Walton, hard to fathom in 2024. He could do it, but it wasn't his natural state. Walton's greatness was enabling the best in others. To facilitate happiness on and off the court. It's why he was one of the best passing big man basketball has ever seen. Why he felt most at home amongst The Grateful Dead, a band and its followers that mainstream society considered freaks. And by all accounts, why he was so generous to friends and strangers until his death. Read the book. But if not, watch this 5-minute story about Walton's generosity, from another great, Mike Breen. It will touch you, I promise. The world needs more Bill Waltons.

Well, here we are. Almost exactly five years on from 235 clumsily-assembled words that unexpectedly and inexplicably changed my life. New friends, opportunities, perspectives. A mention in the New York Times, even. 235 words, pecked out over coffee on a Sunday morning. And still, rarely does a fortnight pass without it rearing its head. An email from a stranger. An introduction at a gathering. Ribbing from friends. A quiet memory of that very strange time, in my head for no reason. Things have gotten better. And worse. Friends and strangers provide anecdotal evidence on both sides. I suppose it depends on who you are, who you're surrounded by, and your life-stage. I'm fortunate, as I was then. To be privileged in many ways. To work with good humans. For kids who've gotten older, more independent, less reliant on me for daily needs. And to laugh as hard today as I did then at the complete insanity of Tobias, Lucille, Gob, Buster, and the rest of the Bluths. Be good to each other.

Every marathon I've run has been a unique experience. But without fail, at some point in every race I've encountered several pairs of runners in BRIGHT yellow shirts, often tethered to each other, running in lock-step. These dynamic duos are the athletes and their volunteer guides, enabled by Achilles International – an incredible organization that provides race guide/support for athletes with disabilities. Seeing them out on the course is a truly emotional, grounding experience. I began volunteering for Achilles last fall, and am blown away by everyone involved. The leadership, the guides, and of course the athletes – all world class humans. This fall I'll run my 10th marathon, first through the 5 boroughs of NYC. And I'll be raising money for Achilles in the process. If you're so inclined, you can donate at the link below. It's money so well spent.

A smattering of ________. Jeff Tweedy. Musician, songwriter, producer, author. Chicago institution. I have no musical aspirations. I'm not a Writer, capital W. But like many, I spend a lot of time at my job writing (and reading) words meant to convey, convince, direct. A few years ago when a friend recommended Tweedy's book "How To Write One Song" I burned an Audible credit on the spot. Technically it's a guide to ... writing a song. Broadly, it's a roadmap for being a more interesting, impactful writer. In any medium. I revisit it often, reference it weekly, recommend it liberally. Occasionally I'll send someone a copy, knowing they'd never buy it on their own. Because I think everyday correspondence can be – should be – more interesting. Read this book, you won't regret it. [Yesterday I re-listened to my favorite chapter, where Tweedy points out how we default to common phrasing – word combinations – which are as efficient as they are "without beauty." Smattering of .... applause. I bet that's the blank you filled in. Smattering + applause, almost always. But why not – as he suggests – "a smattering of teeth" or "a smattering of heartbeats"? Far more evocative.] You have to squint a bit to apply Tweedy's counsel to everyday business, but there's something there. So many lessons in this gem of a read.

This is smart, creative, impactful work.

Proud and thrilled for my friend Eileen. Also love that she’s one of only like 3 people in the world who’ve imposed a nickname on me.

(The irony of my dog throwing up while I was writing this is not lost on me. He's now staring at me as I write.) This year, my New Year's resolution is to stop cleaning as I go. Things like ... // Batching emails, rather than letting the 'unread' notification distract me. // Editing after I've fully captured a thought, not as a stall tactic when I don't know what to say. // Cleaning after dinner, not as I cook. // Not checking my pace mid-run, just trusting my very accurate internal metronome. Listen, I value tidiness and order. Always will. But letting go in small ways – ways that don't make my life materially better – feels right in 2024.

The (understated) big finish. One school of thought is to end pitches with a bang. The Steve Jobs "One more thing ..." Thing is, most pitches go in unexpected directions or run out of time, and you may never get to your big reveal. Also, let's face it, we're not Steve Jobs, and we're not introducing the iPhone. As someone who closes a lot of pitches, I use a far less flashy technique, but it seems to land. I write the close in real-time, throughout the meeting. Jotting notes as we go ... what was said, how they reacted, questions, comments, whispers, looks, smirks, nods. When it's time to wrap things up, I cover three Rs below in no more than five minutes. No slides. Just me and a few notes. Seated, to acknowledge how much energy everyone's just expended presenting and listening.   // REINFORCE: Clients will forget 99%(ish) of what they've heard, so let's make that 1% count. I reinforce that one idea/thought/feeling that differentiates us from our competition. This can be framed out in advance. // RINSE: Clarify a point that wasn't communicated as planned, or was innocently forgotten altogether. // REPLAY: Questions or comments the client made during the session, to demonstrate we hear them, and to ensure we've interpreted their feedback correctly (usually for a fast-follow deliverable).   It's not for everyone, but it's right for me. I wonder how others handle this responsibility.

Something I've realized over the years – it's quite obvious to me now – is that we learn/do/thrive differently based on our lived experience, the situation we're in, and the core of who we are.   So when I recently had the opportunity to ask Shefali Tsabary a question on Oprah Winfrey's interview with her, I inquired about raising two children with very different personality types and essences.   The link here is directly to my question, but I recommend the entire interview. Along with Dr. Shefali's excellent book, The Parenting Map. https://lnkd.in/gUDKcrjf