Connective Tissue
I like barbecue. I like that a place down south with barely a screen for a door can produce flavors that attract people from across state lines. I like that — though I don’t participate in them — discussions about how to achieve the perfect smoke ring on a brisket can be both heated and collegial at the same time. Mostly, I like eating it and have traveled all over the country sampling various techniques and styles. (My favorite is the brisket from Texas. Do yourself a favor and check out Snow’s BBQ in Lexington, TX and thank me later.)
I also like college football. I like that it brings people together and that some of those people come together and just stay outside the stadium and don’t go to the game. I love that as a northerner, I have walked through the Grove on the campus of Ole Miss on more than one occasion and been fed some of best food the deep south has to offer, handed ice cold beers and given game tickets without spending a dime. I appreciate the fandom and passion that people have for their team or hometown.
Both barbecue and college football are ways that people connect, and they are ways that I connect with them. If I were to say I like college football, that may be a dead end for further conversation. If I were to say that I like barbecue, same thing — a potential conversation killer. However, if I were to say to you, “One of my goals is to see all 130 major college football teams play before I turn 65. I’ve already seen 100 of them and this quest has allowed me to travel all over the country, meet great people, eat incredible food and build memories with loved ones.” Well then, we would have lots to talk about: travel, food, football, tailgates, legendary local landmarks, and experiences in general.
It is all in how you position the conversation and then we can connect on something deeper (if necessary or desired).
In college I knew almost every high school nickname in Ohio and the surrounding areas. It was my way of connecting with someone when they told me where they were from. If they said “Hi, I’m from [insert any small Ohio town], my first response was likely “Go Eagles.” I either had done my homework on that area or, more than likely, leveraged my trivial knowledge by knowing that one third of all high school nicknames are either “Eagles” or “Wildcats.” I instantly had a connection with that Eagle (or Wildcat) and we could cut to other matters more quickly.
I do the same today. Stanford diploma on the wall of your office? “Stanford has one of the most beautiful campuses, you must have loved being there.” Picture of you and your family on vacation in your zoom background? “The Grand Canyon is such a special place, how cool that you got to experience it with your kids.” It’s not bullshitting people. It’s connecting with them. Life is made in the margin and most people live in the margins.
Snow’s BBQ - Lexington, TX
Recently, I had a zoom with a new contact. We exchanged pleasantries and before getting to the subject at hand I thought it was important that we get to know one another to establish rapport on our way toward establishing trust. We arrived at the “where are you from originally?” part of the conversation and she replied, “I lived in Cleveland until I was 14, but…”
Normally, I am inclined to let people finish their sentence, but in this case, I jumped in with “I am from Ohio too. My mother, my wife and some of my best friends are from Cleveland.” — all before she finished her sentence. She was not interested in engaging. Then she went on to talk about how she summered in a foreign country and about her shamanism, but not how her shamanism related to us or the project. The conversation went on for 45 minutes in a very one-sided manner with her not asking one question of me or my colleague.
Most of the time, I can replay the exact moments of the call — the volleys that make the evolution of a relationship and what the next steps are to be. I called my partner on the project, told her that I was utterly confused as to how the call went and asked if I was missing something. She replied that “She didn’t know there was a “there” there — and that it’s actually a far better connection than shamanism.”
She had missed the connection I was trying to make and if she was trying to make a connection (I am not convinced she was) I missed that. The “there” in this case was a shared history. I am left to wonder if my tactics fell flat or if I just didn’t have a willing player on the other side of the net to volley with. If that is the case, is that someone I want to sign up with to play another game (and pursue a project)?
Many years ago, a dear friend from college was playing golf with his boss and a prospect. My friend said “go Chanticleers” after the prospect said he went to Coastal Carolina University.
His boss pulled him aside and said, “I wish you could monetize that stupid trivia.” My friend responded, “I just did.” My friend is now one of the biggest brokers in the city and that boss is out of the business.
I think I will sleep on it — I will go to bed dreaming of barbecue and wonder where she went to high school. Wherever it was, I bet they were the Eagles.
Here's to more connecting...
BG
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