Something really terrible happened to me two months ago . . . and it has taken me this long to be able to write about it.

It happened at the IABC Conference in in New Orleans. And when I think of it, I still get sick to my stomach. But, by speaking out, I'm hoping maybe I can prevent it from happening to others.

First, let me say that I had a wonderful time in New Orleans. I always have a great time at the IABC Conference.

I usually share a room with my pal and colleague David Murray . . . and invariably, that leads to pleasant adventures. This time was no different. On the last night, despite the fact that we were in the party capital of North America, neither of us wanted to go out.

David had important interviews the next day, and I had to get home to watch my son play baseball. So, after dinner, while the rest of the Ragan crew headed out to Bourbon Street, David and I went to the hotel bar, bought three beers each, went back to the room, got in our PJs, got under the covers (each in our own bed, I should point out), turned on Sportscenter, and quietly drank our beers and talked for a couple of hours.

We were like the grandparents in Willy Wonka.

But anyway, back to the tragedy. It happened the next day. I was making one more appearance at the conference, to check out a session before heading to the airport.

I was heading down an empty hotel corridor when it happened. I was alone, and vulnerable. And there was a man there. I big man. It was a man I had seen in the hotel bar the night before . . . and we had chatted. He was a communicator, like me, and we had some things in common.

Anyway, I was walking toward this man, whom I barely knew, and he was facing so that I could only see his profile. He appeared to be staring out the window at something, deep in thought.

I wasn't going to disturb him, but his eyes caught mine, and he smiled and waved. So I smiled and waved. Being a friendly sort of guy, I immediately walked over to him, and said, loudly:

"Hey, John, great talking to you last . . .". At this point, this man . . . this animal . . . this beast . . . Bluetoothed me. Yes, that's right, the son of a bitch Bluetoothed me.

We waved me off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and then turned so I could see the other side of his head--where he had one of those flashing little dildos in his ear. And he pointed at the dildo and waved me off again.

After dismissing me, he turned and went on with his conversation.

Why would someone do that? What kind of person actually initiates a greeting, pulls you in so that you think he wants to talk to you, and then cuts you off at the knees because he's on his super-secret spy phone?

A Bluetoother, that's who. A son of a bitch of a Bluetoother who thinks he's so important that he has to have a phone attached to his ear at all times. Bluetoothers, who basically use their little ear dildos as extensions of their penises, to show how cool they are.

I was crushed. I stood there like a jilted lover, like an idiot, as John moved away, jabbering into his dildo like a Secret Service agent.

At first, I blamed myself. I was the classic victim. Maybe I had provoked him? Maybe I had teased him the night before, in the bar, so that he felt obligated to smile and wave, despite the fact that he was on the phone.

But after talking it over with other people, I have come to realize that I am NOT to blame. I did nothing wrong.

I didn't bring this humiliation on myself. I was Bluetoothed by a self-important bastard who has probably Bluetoothed hundreds of people since then.

And as long as we let these serial 'Toothers get away with this behavior, it's only going to get worse.

I know now what I should have done. When he so smugly waved me off and pointed to his dildo, I should have said, loud enough so that whoever was on the other end of the dildo could have heard:

"Oh, I'm sorry JOHN, I thought you wanted to talk to me because you smiled at me and waved and both your hands were free so I HAD NO IDEA YOU WERE ACTUALLY IN THE MIDDLE OF AN IMPORTANT PHONE CALL JOHN. I GUESS I'LL TALK TO YOU LATER OKAY JOHN? WHY DON'T YOU CATCH UP TO ME WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR LITTLE FLASHING DILDO IN YOUR EAR?"

But I didn't do that. I was numb with shock. I was hurt. I was angry. I was Bluetoothed. But at least I know that I'm ready, should it ever happen again.

Is "corporate communication" an oxymoron?

It's easy to believe that when you see as many employee publications and press releases as I do.

They all look the same. Generic headlines, horrific leads, cliched photographs, boilerplate copy, acronyms and buzzwords galore, and terrible quotes.

And I know why. As communicators we fight the same two battles over and over again when we create content. We fight:

1. The battle to make the deadline; and

2. The battle to get it through the approval process.

The constant, crushing deadlines don't leave us any time to do really interesting, creative things; and even if we did have time, there's no way that stuff would make it through the approval process.

So we concentrate on making deadlines and creating content that won't raise any red flags with executives, lawyers, sources, or anyone else who is going to see it before it goes "live."

And you know what? We win those battles. We make our deadlines (usually); stuff eventually gets through the approval process--scarred and changed, perhaps, but it gets through.

So we win those two battles . . . and by doing so we lose the war for readership. We create safe, sterile, generic "corporate" content that employees, reporters, and other audiences immediately dismiss, if they notice it at all.

But it doesn't have to be that way! There are communicators out there who are swimming upstream, fighting the good fight, raging against the corporate machine . . . and replacing the "corporate" in corporate communication with "creative."

They're challenging the "approvers." They're using techniques that work in the real world. They're throwing out the stuff that doesn't work and finding creative ways of reaching their audiences.

And they're doing it in all media--print, online, audio, and video.

I captured some of these folks and their work for my session at this year's IABC Conference. It was titled, "From Corporate to Creative: How to Transform Your Corporate Communication." The session was a hit (it ranked #3 out of 70-some sessions at the conference).

It was a three-hour session, and I ran out of time at the end. Which gave me an idea: If I have that much content, why not go to my buddy Shel Holtz and see if we could turn this thing into a Webinar.

So that's what we did. Starting Monday and running for five weeks, I'm going to be showcasing some of the most creative people in the corporate world. Shel's Webinars are great: you get to talk to all the other participants, share your work, look at great examples . . . all on your own time. Log in whenever you have time!

Sign up for the Webinar, and I'll see you out there.

Oh . . . one more thing. I've got more than enough stuff to fill five weeks (or ten weeks, for that matter) but I'm always looking for great stuff. If you have something you are proud of, I'd love to see it, and put your name up in lights. Shoot me an e-mail, at steve@crescenzocommunications.com.

You can register for the Webinar (or find out more about it) here:

http://www.shelholtzwebinars.com/

See you out there!

Whenever a company gets hit with a racial or sexual discrimination lawsuit, you know what’s going to happen next:

Diversity training! Yes, that’s right. The company is going to bring in a “diversity consultant” to “train” the employees and show them how to “value differences.”

It’s happening right now, as a matter of fact. In order to settle a class action race discrimination lawsuit, Nike recently paid out a $7.6 million fee (even though it denied all allegations!) and agreed to court-ordered diversity training.

The suit was filed in 2003, and among other things it claimed that managers at the store:
• Used racial slurs to refer to black workers and customers;
• Segregated black employees into lower-paying jobs as stockroom workers and cashiers, rather than giving them high-paying sales jobs;
• Made unfounded accusations of theft against black workers, and instructed store security to monitor black employees and customers because of their race.

And according to a stoy in the Associated Press, under the terms of the agreement, “Nike also must make a host of other changes to address diversity, such as appointing a diversity consultant to monitor the Chicago store’s compliance and a compliance officer at Nike’s headquarters in Beaverton. The company must also add an ombudsperson at the store and conduct diversity training for all supervisors and managers there.”

Oh, boy. Here we go. So now a “diversity consultant” is going to come in and “monitor” things, eh? How do you think that’s going to go? I can imagine some of the exchanges that will take place:

Diversity consultant, talking to a security guard: “I notice that you’re looking at that black salesperson rather closely. Why? Do you think he’s going to steal something?”

Security guard: “No. I try to watch everyone.”

Diversity consultant: “Because you know it’s wrong to just watch black people right? You better start watching some white people, too. I’m here to monitor that, you know.”

Security guard: “I know. I got the memo. I spent a good chunk of this morning watching white people. And after lunch I’m gonna look at some Hispanics. I respect differences. I don’t trust anybody.”

Diversity consultant: “Good. Carry on. But remember, I’m watching you the way you’re watching them.”

And as if it’s not bad enough that someone is going to be “monitoring” people, what about the mandatory “diversity training?” How do you think that’s going to go? I can only imagine the conversations in that room:

Diversity Trainer: “Why did you feel the need to tell security to monitor black employees for theft more than white employees?”

White Manager: “Because black people are more likely to steal, aren’t they?

Diversity Trainer: “No! Why do you suppose you think that?”

White Manager: “Well, I watch a lot of cop shows, like NYPD Blue, and all the black people on there are usually criminals. And you know that prison show on HBO, Oz? I don’t know, it seemed like there were a lot of blacks in that prison.”

Diversity Trainer: “Do you see how the media is shaping your views of black people? What other assumptions do you have?”

White Manager: “Well, most black people are in gangs, right? And don’t they all use their welfare checks to buy crack? That’s what my Uncle Leo says, and he’s pretty smart about stuff like that.”

Diversity Trainer: “Wrong again! See . . . that’s why I’m here. That’s what this training is about. You need to understand that just because their skin is a different color than yours doesn’t make them any different.”

White Manager: “Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense. I never thought of it that way before.

Diversity Trainer: “That’s why I’m here, my man. That’s why I’m here.”

Think that conversation would ever happen? As the Brits say, not bloody likely!

I guess the problem I have with this forced diversity “training” is that you can’t change a lifetime of views and prejudices in a two-hour session with a trainer.

The only “diversity training” that matters is what you get at home, growing up. If by the time you grow up and leave home to start your own life, you’re convinced that black people are more likely to steal than white people, do you really think a mandated corporate “training program” is going to convince you otherwise?

Probably not. But at least the company’s ass will be covered for the next lawsuit.