First, please, a moment of silence for Barney Fife, a.k.a. Don Knotts.

If Fife isn’t the greatest sit-com character of all time, he’s certainly on the Mount Rushmore of sit-com characters, along with Archie Bunker, Basil Fawlty, and Rerun from “What’s Happening.”

And speaking of What’s Happening, (God, what a terrific segue), I am excited to announce that there are still seats available for the final Master Class Seminar!

As readers of this blog know, Ragan extended the Master Class to three additional cities—Dallas, Toronto, and Chicago.

Well, there will be no more extensions. Chicago, on March 22 and 23, is it. That’s the bad news. The good news is that, as I mentioned, there are still seats available!

Well . . . of course there are. Don’t you find it funny when conference planners tell you that “there are still seats available!” for an event . . . as if any business conference or seminar would ever “sell out.”

If 800 people were to call Ragan Communications right now and sign up for the Chicago Class, it wouldn’t sell out. Ragan would find a way to fit everyone in. We might have to hold the seminar outside, with bonfires and whisky to stay warm (not a bad idea, actually), but there would still be seats available!

So please join me in Chicago. It’s at the Doubletree Guest Suites Lakefront, which is right in the heart of everything. There are at least four good bars within walking distance of the hotel.

To register, just go to ragan.com, and click on workshops and then find Master Class. I hope to see you there.

And yes, I was kidding about Rerun from “What’s Happening.” Somewhere, I don’t know where, people like Hitler and Stalin are burning their asses off while being forced to watch “What’s Happening” and “Different Strokes” on a constant loop.

The fourth person on my personal sit-com-character Mt. Rushmore? I’d have to go with Ralph Kramden . . . though I would certainly listen to arguments for Frasier Crane, Dick Van Dyke, and the immortal Reverend Jim Ignatowski from Taxi.

But don’t anyone try to put Lucille Ball up there, please. She has to win the prize for most overrated comic of all time.

Sometimes, I’m glad that I’m “only” a communicator, and not a real business person.

Before I explain that comment, you should know that I’m writing this from Orlando, Florida. This is a strange place. People come down here with mouse ears shaved into their heads. People shave mouse ears into the children’s heads. People dream of retiring and then coming to work for peanuts in Disneyland. People are horrible.

Anyway, I’m down here doing an in-house seminar for a big communications company. They flew down all of their internal and external communicators for a big three-day meeting, and asked me to address the employee communicators in one of the breakout session.

It’s one of those gigs that makes you happy to be a consultant. Leaving Chicago’s 18-degree weather for 80 degrees, dealing with very nice people, having the chance to really make a difference . . . everything has been great.

So after the event yesterday, we all meandered out to the bar by the pool, for cocktails and snacks. I ended up talking to Mike, the executive vice president who runs the entire region. Mike is a very big shot at the company, but he was nice enough to come all the way over from Tampa to join the group for dinner, and address them the next day.

Mike is one of those executives who gives you hope for the corporate world. Within five seconds of talking to him, I knew he appreciated the value of employee communications. He does wildly popular Town Hall meetings twice a year, writes a regular column, and does his best to get to as many stores as he can to talk to employees.

He’s funny, irreverent, and not afraid to tell employees the truth.

But people like Mike are not why I’m glad to be a communicator today. No, I’m glad to be a communicator because being a communicator means I don’t have to be Mike.

Let me explain:

In two weeks, Mike told me last night, he has what the company calls his “Opps Review.”

“That’s when I get 20 minutes before the CEO and his team, to basically make a case for why I should keep my job,” he said. (I’m paraphrasing, because I didn’t take notes, was drinking gin and tonics, and there were many distractions swimming around in the pool; but I know this is very close to what he said.)

“You stand up there and you present your quarterly numbers, and then you get grilled,” he continued. “And you better know the background on every number, and you better know the numbers behind the numbers. And if you even try to hide or fudge a number, you’re dead. They will sniff out weakness and grill you on it. I don’t think anyone sleeps very well the night or two before their Opps Review.”

And here’s the really horrible thing: This guy is a superstar at this organization. His region is kicking ass. He’s second in the entire company, and is gunning for the top guy. He should have nothing to worry about . . . and yet he does. Because in business, you’re only as good as your last quarter, and he knows that.

“The joke is, you walk out of your Opps Review and if you survive, you tell people: ‘I got another 90 days,’” Mike told me.

Good Lord, can you imagine the pressure? We communicators like to bitch about approval processes, stuffy lawyers, uncooperative IT people, and boring sources. But when was the last time your job was truly on the line? When was the last time you had to get up and defend yourself to the top person at the company? What a life.

The funny thing, though, is that Mike wouldn’t change any of it.

“I love what I do,” he told me. “I thrive on this kind of pressure. I love kicking ass. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

It was kind of weird to get inside the mind of a real Type A Go Getter. This is the mentality and the competitive spirit that spawns the Donald Trumps of the world.

And I have to admit, I felt kind of small next to the man. In fact, I felt like a little girl. I felt like a 220-pound, fat, bald, baby little sissy boy. I just wanted to slink back up to my room, write my cute little girly blog column, and then crawl under the covers and try not to wet the bed.

It’s almost March, which means it’s almost time for Ragan’s annual Corporate Communicator’s Conference. This year, it’s back in Chicago, my hometown.

Because it's back in Chicago after three years in Las Vegas, I am getting a lot of questions from people . . . about the conference, and about the city in general. Rather than respond to them individually, I thought I would do an FAQ here on the blog.

If you have any additional questions, please enter them into the comments section, and I will do my best to answer them. Thank you.

Can you get me Oprah tickets?
No, I can’t get you Oprah Tickets. Nobody I know from Chicago can get you Oprah Tickets. Mayor Daley can’t get you Oprah Tickets. I only know one person from Chicago who has been to see Oprah, and she was actually a participant on the show. It was about menopause.

Are all of Oprah’s shows about menopause?
No, that is a common misconception. She also does one show a year about whatever book she just read, and another where She cons sponsors into giving away all kinds of expensive gifts to the audience, while She soaks up all the credit.

Are the White Sox in town during the conference?
No, the Sox are on the road. If you want to experience the same atmosphere that you would experience at a Sox game, however, you can still do it during the conference. Just buy tickets to the Jerry Springer show.

Why are there never any fans at White Sox games, even when they are winning?
I hate to stick up for White Sox fans, but it truly isn’t there fault that nobody goes to the games. Most White Sox games are at night. And most G.E.D. classes are also at night. You can see the conflict.

What if I hate Jerry Springer but still want to experience what it’s like to go to a Sox game?
Cook County Jail has guided tours on Mondays and Wednesdays, I’m told.

Are the Cubs in town?
Yes, you can see the Cubs while you are in town. They have a three-game set against the Marlins, including night games on Monday and Tuesday, so you won’t even have to miss any sessions. The Cubs are going to win the World Series this year, so it would be neat if you could say you saw them play in Wrigley the year they broke the drought.

Have you been drinking?
Yes.

Are you the bouncer from the Jerry Springer show?
No, I am not. He’s in much better shape than me.

I’ve heard Chicago is very cold. Will it be cold in April?
Probably. Maybe not. How the hell am I supposed to know? One year, the Cubs home opener got snowed out. Another year, it was 70 degrees. As they tell you in all the better conference brochures, dress in layers.

I’m looking for the quintessential Chicago experience, and I have a huge expense account. Can you help?
There are so many to choose from. But if it were me, and I had oil-company or pharmaceutical-company money to spend, I’d do this: First, go to Happy Hour at Andy’s Jazz Club. The live Jazz starts at 5 p.m. It’s a Chicago institution, but not touristy at that hour. Then, for dinner, two options: If you want seafood, right next door to Andy’s is Shaw’s. Probably the best seafood in the city. If you want meat, go to Gibsons. There are better steaks in town, but Gibsons is the Chicago steakhouse. Close the night by either seeing a late show at Second City, or going to the piano bar at Jilly’s, right across the street from Gibsons.

I’m looking for the quintessential Chicago experience, but I have no money, and no expense account. Can you help?
Now you’re in my territory. Take a cab to Clark and Diversey. That’s a block from my house. From there, walk north up Broadway. It’s one of the great walking streets in the world. You’ll find the greatest assortment of shops, bars, freaks, weirdos, perverts and street people you can find anywhere. If you can swing it, do it in the late afternoon, and when you get to Addison, hang a left. Two blocks down is Wrigley Field. Since you’re on a budget, wait until the third inning, and then scalp a ticket for about $20, and go in. You won’t regret it. Another, even cheaper alternative: Walk the lakefront, from downtown north to Belmont. Then cut over to Wrigley Field and go to the game. Chicago's Lakefront is one of the true treasures of the modern world.

Speaking of the Cubs, is it true that White Sox fans are more blue collar and tougher than Cubs fans?
Last year, as their theme song, White Sox Nation picked Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” as their song. Maybe the biggest sissy song from the biggest sissy band of all time. You tell me.

I like to dress up. Will I be able to dress up at the conference?
Sure, you can dress up and go to the symphony, or dress up and go to the ballet, or dress up and go to the lyric opera. Or, you could dress up and come to the first-ever Ragan Recognition Awards Gala. That’s right, we’re having a Gala. It’s certainly a stretch from the early days of the Corporate Communicator Conference, when our founder Larry Ragan used to smuggle in bottles of booze and bags of chips in his suitcase, for the “cocktail reception.”

Why are you having a Gala?
It’s to honor the winners and almost-winners of the second annual Ragan Recognition Awards Program. It’s Tuesday night, after the pre-conference sessions are over. I’m told it’s going to be very nice—with great food, great wine, and a program where you can see and learn from the award winners. I’m co-emceeing the event, along with Mark Ragan and Jim Ylisela. We’re all going to be wearing tuxedos. The only catch is, you have to attend the conference if you want to attend the Gala. But it’s shaping up to be a great conference.

Did you say you were going to wear a tuxedo? Isn’t that a little like putting perfume on a pig?
It most certainly is. I’m being forced into it by something called the Gala Committee. The Gala Committee has been churning out memos at a record pace, and I stopped reading them three months ago. So I missed the memo about me having to wear a tuxedo, and now I’m roped into it.

I kind of got hooked on gambling when the conference was in Las Vegas. Can I gamble in Chicago?
Yes you can. The current odds at Ragan right now are running 2:1 that I cut the ass out of my tuxedo before I put it on.

It’s finally here . . . Valentine’s Day! What a crock. But anyway . . .

If you are an employee communicator and you’re looking to do a Valentine’s Day story for the intranet home-page today, why not shake things up a bit?

Instead of running that tired, old “Jane and Bill met on the job five years ago and they’re still together and they both still work here!” story, why not do something different?

What about doing a story on all the “daytime marriages” that exist in offices?

From what I hear, this is a pretty common thing. You’ll hear women say things like, “Oh, Dan is my office husband.” Or you’ll hear men say, “Mary is my daytime wife.”

(Somehow, I get the sense that more women talk about “daytime marriages” than do men. It’s just a hunch, but I think most men think about the women they work with in a more private fashion . . .and on their own time).

The idea behind these daytime marriages is that people who work together spend more time together than regular married couples, so they become “couples” of a sort, too. It makes sense, right? Well, why not do a profile on some of these unofficial relationships?

If nothing else, it would be a hell of a lot fun to do the interviews. I bet you could get some great quotes, like the ones below:

Cheryl in Production (daytime husband: Marty, in marketing):
“It’s so great to have a second ‘husband’ at work . . . I mean, we talk about everything!”

Marty, in Marketing (daytime wife: Cheryl, in Production):
“Yeah . . . uh, sure. We talk about everything. This daytime marriage thing . . . it eventually leads to sex, right?”

Arnie in Accounts Payable (daytime wife: Sue, an administrative assistant):
“I don’t have a wife in real life, so it’s nice to have one at work. Real nice. Reeeeeal nice. I think about her all the time. I mean, all the time. Even when I’m not supposed to. In fact, I'm thinking about her right now. But that's okay, because she's my wife. Sort of."

Diane in Legal (daytime husband: Jim, in copywriting):
"Of course my real husband Wally knows about Jim. But, uh . . . I did tell him that Jim was gay, so I wouldn’t have to deal with the third degree every night. God, did Jim and I howl about that. That whole week, Jim was calling himself Jack Tripper, and doing this funny gay walk all over the place. I’ll tell you, Jim is a scream."

Ned in Accounting (daytime wife: Wanda, in Corporate Giving):
"Yeah, the office marriage thing is great. I get to make small talk with Wanda all day, I get to work my ass off to try and be funny, I get to be there when her asshole boss comes down on her, I get to be there to pick up the pieces when she gets a bad review . . .and then she goes home and has sex with her husband. What’s not to like about it?”

Bob in design (daytime husband: Dean, in design):
“It’s just so nice to have someone at work to just chat with about everyday things. At home it’s always ‘put on the leather chaps, honey, we’re going to the club,’ or, ‘put on the sequined shirt, Bob, we’re going to Eddie’s to watch The Idol.’ It’s like I’m some kind of show dog or something. With my daytime husband, it’s more relaxed.”

Linda in Purchasing (office husband: Brett in Shipping and Receiving):
“My real husband, Bill, just lies around all night and watches sports on TV. With Brett, I can have real conversations.”

Brett in Shipping and Receiving (office wife: Linda in Purchasing):
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I mean, you can’t watch sports at work anyway, so talking to Linda helps kill the time.”

Gretchen in HR (office husband: Archie in the Factory):
“Is it still considered only an office marriage if you have sex in the Janitor’s closet three or four times a week? I mean, I'm just asking hypothetically”

Otis in the Mail Room (office wife: to be determined):
“Damn, I gotta get me one of these office wives. Who do I talk to, HR?”

Can I be the first person to say that the new “broadband Internet” is a huge pain in the ass?

My pal and mentor Shel Holtz likes to say that there are actually three Internets out there:

1. The research Internet, which is what we’re all used to. We use it to book flights, find stuff out, contact a company, etc.

2. The social Internet, which is all about collaboration, communities, discussions, and knowledge sharing. Blogs and wikis are driving the social Internet (which, by the way, is really starting to make its way inside companies now . . . finally).

3. And the high-speed or broadband Internet, which is coming about because so many people now have high-speed access. The broadband Internet is what allows podcasts, vidcasts, and video to be a big part of your surfing experience. I think Shel also calls it the Multimedia Internet.

Why should I call this high-speed Internet a pain in the ass? Here’s why:

For the last couple of years, I’ve enjoyed getting my snippets of daily news—before I go get the newspaper from downstairs—from CNN. I don't read long stories at cnn.com . . . I don’t do that online.

But I enjoyed surfing over to CNN to scan the headlines, and occasionally click through to read a short story about something I cared about. Before I settled in with the daily newspaper.

I can’t do that anymore. Why? Because the damn fools at cnn.com have turned the majority of their content into video.

When I go there now, more often than not if I read a headline and want to know more, I have to watch a freaking video. Granted, CNN is smart enough to put a tag that reads “Watch” on any video content, so you’re not ambushed by it.

But still. Do they know how annoying it is to read a headline that I want to know more about . . . and then not give me a story to read? Instead, I have to sit through a video?

If I wanted to watch video first thing in the morning, I would turn on the damn TV. I would turn on CNN!

I don’t want video on my computer . . . unless it involves naked people. And even then, I don’t want it first thing in the morning!

Here’s another reason I hate the Broadband Web: It just got me in trouble.

As readers of this blog know, my wife and much better half Cindy recently started running Crescenzo Communications. The minute she started, she began disrupting my life with different systems and meetings.

It’s been a living hell.

Yes, the company is operating more efficiently. Yes, we’ve eliminated all our cash flow problems. Yes, the clients are much happier. Yes, we’re getting more business than ever before.

But I haven’t been to El Jardin’s, the Mexican restaurant that serves as my branch office, for almost two weeks. I haven’t had a decent afternoon nap in a month. Happy Hour used to start at 3. Now I’m lucky if it starts by 4:30 or 5.

It’s been awful.

And one of the things Cindy has done is start regular meetings—like “Client Status Meetings” and “Budget Meetings.”

Well, I don’t do meetings very well. That’s why I work for myself in the first place.

So I avoid them. And I avoid them by lying to Cindy all the time. And, the other day, because of the damn Broadband Internet, I got caught.

Cindy wanted to have the “Budget Meeting.” Now, I had just been to Toronto, where I spent $240 of our money, not the client’s, on one of the best dinners I’ve ever had. (I sat by myself at the “Chef’s Rail” at Canoe, at the top of the tallest building in downtown Toronto, for the Chef’s tasting menue. Nine courses, each with its own glass of wine. I’m not sure, because I had an awful lot of wine, but I think I was named an Honorary Chef; I do remember that there was a lot of hugging going on at the end of the night).

I hadn’t exactly told Cindy about the big dinner, so I was not looking forward to the Budget Meeting. So I did what I always do when I am not looking forward to something: I avoided it. But Cindy doesn’t make avoiding it easy . . . which is why she’s on double-secret probation, and about to get fired.

I managed to put her off for two days, but things were coming to a head.

So, at 10 a.m., she came storming into the living room, where I work, with one of her stupid binders.

“We need to meet on the Budget,” she said.

“I can’t, I’m on deadline,” I said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, really!” I said, with an irritating tone, glaring at her. “I’ve got to get this done for a client.”

Now, from where she was standing, Cindy couldn’t see my computer screen. So she couldn’t tell that I had surfed to the Chicago Cubs Web site just before she entered the room.

So I’m looking at Cindy with an irritated look on my face, telling her I’m on an important deadline and can’t meet with her . . . and guess what happens?

The God DAMN Chicago Cubs have started a brand-new thing with their Web site, where they launch a video automatically about ten seconds after you hit their home page.

Yes, that’s right. Automatically. There is a little button that says, “Click here to stop the video from playing” or something like that. But I didn’t see that button, because I was fake glaring at Cindy. So the video started.

Imagine the scene:

I’ve avoided the Budget Meeting for two days with various lies and excuses. She’s getting fed up. She is standing there looking at me. I’m glaring at her, and telling her I’m on deadline.

And all of a sudden, sound comes booming from my computer—a bunch of players talking about the World Baseball Classic.

Busted. Cindy, being basically a good sport if a bit of a Fascist, was nice enough to let me save face by not even mentioning what happened.

“Can you meet on the budget now?” she simply said.

“Yes,” I whimpered, and off we went.

Busted . . . by the God damned Broadband Internet. May it rot in hell.

I just came up with a great name for an employee newsletter.

But first, some background:

Last Friday, I was doing focus groups at a big company in the automotive industry. If you want to get a little dose of reality, do some focus groups with blue-collar workers in the automotive industry. I have visible bruises.

In fact, I think it should be required that any person who wants to communicate with a workforce that includes plant, factory, or other blue-collar workers, should have to do at least three focus groups with these people a year.

Believe me when I tell you that you’ll get a whole new perspective on all those fancy communication strategies we like to talk about at industry conferences.

So I’m sitting there, leading the focus groups, and we’re talking about this weekly print newsletter the company does.

One woman spoke up to tell me that she had never even seen it.

“I’m in the XYZ Building, and we don’t get that,” she said.

Would you read it if you did get it? I asked.

“The only way I’d read that was if they put it in the Butt Hut,” she said. “They need to put more materials in the Butt Hut.”

The Butt Hut! No, it’s not the bathroom. It’s the little building where all the smokers huddle to stay out of the elements.

Thus, my new name for an employee publication:

The Butt Hut Report.

Think about it: Aren’t those little informal gatherings of employees where 90 percent of the communication takes place? Isn’t that where real, uncensored information is exchanged? Isn’t that where real people talk in real terms—with no buzzwords, platitudes, or other corporate jargon?

And shouldn’t we try to imitate that kind of communication in our more “official” vehicles? If you were an employee, wouldn't you read something called The Butt Hut Report?

Of course, I'm not married to the full title. You could go with Butt Hut Weekly, or Butt Hut News. The important thing is to get Butt Hut in there somewhere.

The Butt Hut Report. I love it. But if you want to go ahead and steal it, go ahead. It’s yours, free of charge for reading this blog.