Are there any stories that we just shouldn’t bother doing in employee publications?

If you read this blog, you know where I stand on things like service anniversaries, hobby stories, baby announcements, etc. Those should be outlawed forever . . . or at least banished to HR-land.

But what about other stories . . . the stories that we sort of have to do, but that are just so boring to readers?

What about, say, Safety stories? Oh, I know we have to do those . . . but damn, are they boring. Over the years, I’ve seen thousands of safety stories. And only once or twice have they been interesting—and that was when the editor had the guts to use an anecdotal lead that featured an employee losing a limb or otherwise paying the price for ignoring safety regulations.

Usually, safety stories are either a) Boring pats on the back for going so many days without an incident; or b) Preachy stories, written by people who have never been on the factory floor, about how to act when you’re on the factory floor.

But, as boring as they are, I guess we have to do safety stories, right?

But what about ethics stories? These are the only stories out there that are more boring than safety stories. I see hundreds of these stories a year . . . and they all have the same problem: They all state the obvious, (we need to be ethical as people and as a company) and they are all way too vague about what good ethics are.

I mean, can you really tell people how to be ethical? And if someone isn’t ethical, do you think a story in the employee publication is going to turn them around?

Ethics are a tricky business, because everyone has a different idea of what being ethical means.

Here’s a story from my own life to illustrate the point:

As you know, if you read this blog, I have a six-year-old son, Zach, who serves as the vice president of human resources for Crescenzo Communications.

(As a side note, Zach attended an HR conference last week, and ever since he got back he has been on me to automate the HR function at Crescenzo Communications, and go to an all-online strategy.

“Why?” I asked him.

“Because I’m sick of dealing with all the pissing and moaning about benefits,” he said.

“What about the people who don’t have access to computers?” I asked him.

“We’ll put one of those kiosks in the kitchen, and they can use that. If they don’t want to use it, tough shit. They don’t get to enroll in the benefits plan, then.”

I figure it’s only a matter of time until I lose Zach to one of the big HR consulting firms.)

Anyway, I also have a brother, Nicky, who was born with severe cerebral palsy, and is mentally retarded and confined to a wheelchair. And every year at this time, Zach and I pick Nicky up at the facility where he lives, and the three of us and my new wife Cindy all go down to the Christmas tree lot at the end of my street to get a real tree. It’s our tradition.

Well, the guy who runs the lot charges a lot of money for his trees. Way too much money, in fact. So last year, Zach and I started working on a little routine that might help us save some money. Here is how it’s going to work this year, after Zach picks out a tree:

Christmas Tree Jerk: “Oh, that’s a nice one. That’ll be $110.”

Me: “$110? Are you kidding me? We can’t afford that.”

Zach (starting to cry, as instructed): “But Dad, you promised me we could get a tree this year. You promised that if I sold some of my toys to raise some money, we could have an actual tree to decorate, and not a plant like last year.”

Me: “I’m sorry, son. We just can’t afford it. Let's go get us a nice plant.”

At this point in the scene, I’ve instructed Nicky to start screaming and rocking in his wheelchair. Zach takes his next cue from that.

Zach (to the Christmas Tree Jerk): “Mister, can’t you help me get a tree for my crippled Uncle? This is his favorite time of the year. Can’t you please help us?”

Now, if the man can refuse a six-year-old boy and a man in a wheelchair, he deserves to get full price. My bet is that he won’t be able to, and will come down to about $60. If he doesn’t, Zach knows to take Nicky’s hat and start passing it around to random people in the tree lot, in an effort to drum up popular support and embarrass the guy into caving in.

And you know what? If the guy can resist a six-year-old kid walking around his lot, tears streaming down his face as he passes a hat, while his differently abled Uncle screams and practically rocks himself out of his wheelchair . . . then he’s got me. I’ll give him full price. But I don’t think he’ll be able to do it.

Now, some people might think that using my child this way, to say nothing of my brother, is unethical behavior. But I happen to know that the guy selling the trees owns just about the entire neighborhood. He has more money than God. And he is a pirate. He overcharges in all his stores, he’s a slumlord with his apartments, and he way overcharges for these trees.

So to me, this is war. And it’s anything goes. There are no ethics in war.

But some people would disagree with me, I am sure. And that’s the problem with ethics, and doing stories about ethics. There are no hard and fast rules, other than the obvious ones that people already know about.

And what do we gain by writing about those?

As a person—and especially as a father—I love the Christmas Season. I love everything about it.

But as an employee communications expert, I can’t stand this time of the year.

Why? Because this is the time of the year when normally sane, reasonable employee publication editors lose their minds and start running “Stay Healthy During the Holiday Season” stories.

It seems like every publication I pick up these days—even the good ones—have at least one of these stories. Editors use the “Wellness” concept to justify this junk, but that doesn’t make them any less reprehensible.

You’ve probably seen these stories. Maybe you’ve written these stories. There is a formula that all editors follow. I think there’s actually a piece of software called “Holiday Wellness Story” where you can just plug the name of your company into the software, and it spits out the story for you. (It’s in the same family of products as "The CEO Column" and "The Diversity Story" software.)

All of these stories start out with some kind of stupid lead that says something like:

“Ho ho ho! It’s that time of the year again . . .The Holidays! And while we all want to have fun this Holiday Season, it’s important to remember to take care of ourselves, too.”

Then, after patronizing the readers almost to death, the editors always run a list of “tips for staying healthy during the holiday season.” And this is where the stories always get really, really stupid. Here are some of the “tips” I’ve read over the years. I’ve put them in bold, with my comments following. I swear I am not making any of these up.

• Arrive late at a holiday party, so you won’t eat and drink as much. Or, better yet, don’t show up at all, right? Imagine how much weight you won’t gain if you spend the holiday season under your bed!

• Choose a beverage that you really don’t like that much, because you’ll drink less. Great idea! As my colleague David Murray once said, when he saw that tip: “Yeah, pour yourself a big glass of motor oil . . . you’ll hardly touch it!”

• Wrap leftovers in tinfoil, rather than clear saran wrap, so you won’t be tempted to eat them. Now that’s a genius idea! In other words, rather than eating the leftovers you bothered to carry home from the party, let them rot and fester in the back of your refrigerator!

• Eat off someone else’s plate rather than your own, so you eat less. Yes, please do. Please go around picking food of everyone else’s plate! And while you’re at it, piss into the punch bowl, just to make sure everyone at the party hates your guts!

• Fill up on celery and carrots and other low-fat veggies. Do you think anyone is going to listen to this advice? Do you think a normal person is going to go up to the buffet table at the Holiday Party, see carrots and celery on one side, and chicken wings and bacon-wrapped scallops on the other, and say to himself: “Hmmmmm . . . those wings and scallops look good . . . but that wellness article in Vision last week said I should eat the carrots and celery . . . so I guess it’s the carrots and the celery for me!”

The problem with these stories—other than the rampant stupidity of the tips—is that they serve no purpose. People who manage to stay healthy during the Holidays are going to stay healthy no matter what. They are good at that sort of thing. They don’t need your stupid tips to help them.

And the people who don’t stay healthy during the Holidays aren’t going to change their habits because of an article in the employee publication, are they?

You've got to give this second group of people realistic tips. They're never going to pick carrots over chicken wings, or diet soda over bourbon-laced eggnog, so instead, give them some realistic tips they can work with! If I had my own employee publication, I would offer my fellow slobs tips like this:

* Eat and drink as much as you want at every party you go to . . . but just make sure you make yourself puke before you go to bed.

* If a skinny person tries to take food off your plate, tackle them and slam your fist into their face 25 or 30 times. This is excellent cardiovascular activity, and will help you burn off some of the 87 chicken wings you ate.

* Get to the party early, before the good food is put out, pick a beverage that you really like a lot, and start chugging it like you did in college. You should be so shitfaced by the time the good, fatty foods are brought out that you may forget to eat. And even if you do eat, it will be easier to make yourself throw up later.

These are tips that could actually help people, don't you think?

Well, it’s that time of the year again.

Time to make some personal and professional resolutions. Every year about this time, I resolve to lose weight, get in better shape, and finish my one-man show about Chicago.

And every year, right about January 25th, I find myself at El Jardin’s, drinking margaritas and eating the steak burrito platter, instead of working out and writing.

But this year is going to be different! I feel it!

Does anyone out here have any professional resolutions they’d like to share with the group? In my column last week in Ragan Report, I listed six things that every communicator should try to do at least once in the New Year.

Here are three of them:

Suggestion #1: Stand up to your corporate lawyers one time. Just once this year, when the lawyer tells you to kill a story, question him on it. Show him that other companies in similar industries have done similar stories. Press him. Ask him, “Is it really a legal risk . . . or just something you’d rather not do?”

Most communicators I know duck and run as soon as the lawyers open their mouths. Just once, stand your ground and see what happens.

Suggestion #2: Have a three-martini lunch. But here’s the catch: Don’t take a nap afterwards. I have four or five three-martini lunches a year . . . but they always result in a three-hour nap in the afternoon. The suggestion here is to have a three-martini lunch and then go back to work all afternoon. You know, people used to do this all the time . . . and you know who those people became? The Greatest Generation of All Time!

Huge businesses were founded and expanded after three-martini lunches. Wars were won, America became a superpower, and entire industries sprang to life and thrived! Who knows how much we can accomplish after a three-martini lunch unless we try!

Suggestion #3: Spend one day with no communication technology—no computer, no Blackberry, no cell phone, no pager. Turn everything off. Make a pad of paper and a pen your only companion . . . and allow your brain to roam free, looking for ideas. Ideas about how to improve your communication programs, or how to be a better parent, or how to move up in your career.

See how much you can get done in one day, when you don’t have any of the tools that are supposed to help you get more done. Granted, you’ll probably have to take a day off work to do this one . . . but it may be the best sick day you ever take.

Those were three of my own professional resolutions. But here in the blog, since it’s my online diary, I also wanted to share some personal resolutions. In 2006, I plan to:

Fly straight sober. That’s right, just like the regular people do. No Xanax, no gin, no wine, no nothing. I’m going to get on the plane just like a normal grown-up person, have a cup of coffee, pull out my laptop, get some work done, maybe read a book.

If I manage to survive, I am going to then walk calmly off the plane, get into a taxicab, go to the hotel, strip off my urine-drenched pants, take a shower, and then go have a martini to celebrate.

I am only going to do this once . . . but I have to do it.

One day, I’m going to answer the phone every time it rings. Every single time. I’m not going to look at Caller Id. I’m not going to duck my mother, or my editors at Ragan, or bill collectors, or my wife, or anybody else.

I have developed a serious phone phobia in the past two years, and I somehow need to shake myself out of it. So on February 29th, 2006, I am going to answer every single call that comes in.

I am going to stop screwing with telemarketers. Other than my son, the only people I answer the phone for are telemarketers. And as soon as I’m sure it’s a telemarketer and not a potential client, I shift into my severely retarded person’s voice, and start saying things like, “My rubber pants are too tight. Can you help me?” and “May I play with Mr. Willie now?”

It’s a hell of a lot of fun, because telemarketers are trained not to be the one to end the call, ever. I’ve had some of them on the line for 15 minutes. But it’s really not fair or nice to do that to them. They’re just trying to do their jobs. So no more sport at the expense of those people.

Those are my big resolutions. Anyone out here have any they want to share? Either personal or professional? Sometimes, just by saying them in public, it makes you work harder to keep them . . . or so I’m told, anyway. I wouldn’t know, because I’ve never once in my entire life made a resolution and kept it.

But this year will be different!