Nothing makes you appreciate something more than having it taken away.

I’ve been in D.C. for a year now, but Tennessee is still home. Every morning, I still scan my Google Reader for TN political news, Nashville happenings and what my former clients are up to. Over this past year, I subscribed to just about every major political blog in the state, but I truly relied on SouthComm’s A.C. Kleinheider.

Not only could I spell his name without looking it up, I trusted he’d serve up the odd, timely and important things I actually needed to know–24-7. I’d wake up on Sunday morning to at least ten new posts of political whatnot that had come to light in the middle of the night. It was magical.

But then, SouthComm sACKed him. (Don’t even get me started on what a strategically poor idea that was.) His former site, Nashville’s Post Politics,  is still up and doing fine, but the person I assumed would always be there to keep me up-to-speed is “taking a break” and I’m left desperately trying to fill my TN politics/odd stuff void.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been speed-dating with various blogs. I’m getting by. But am all scared to get attached to these folks again.

What if they go away?

To prevent this informational tragedy, I’ve decided I’m going to start doing my small part to be sure the people I rely on to get my news stay employed. Read More…

Image by K!T via Flickr

Good grief. The mayor of a tiny Tennessee town outside of Memphis is throwing a tantrum about missing the end of the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. I love Charlie Brown as much as the next guy, but seriously? Does this really warrant publishing a Facebook rant about how the President of the United States is a Christ-hating, Charlie Brown-interrupting Muslim?

I’m embarrassed for three reasons:

A) this guy is an elected official, and

B) he is making important decisions on behalf of folks in my home state, and

C) dude clearly doesn’t understand there is no privacy on the Internet. Not that he was seeking privacy when he posted this insanity for 1,600 “friends” to see. Read More…

I was manning the doughnut table and lovin on parents, kiddos and cameramen this morning at the Red River Art Contest event when suddenly, it occurred to me: I’m most proud of my craft and most enjoy my gig when public relations grants me these things:

1. I’m out among people
2. I’m a worker bee
3. I’ve got a cause

When I look back over my short seven year communications career, it’s the room-full-of-strangers, chaotic, didn’t-get-a-chance-to-eat, sunburned, save-the-Preds, drive-across-the-state, tired, don’t-forget-the-duct-tape, my-feet-hurt, did-you-pick-up-the-signage, new-hospital-now, smoke-free-Tennessee, I-just-walked-from-Jackson-to-Martin, have-you-seen-the-Mayor, exhausting, front lines work that stands out most.

I’m starting to think it’s Phil Bredesen’s fault. My first gig out of college was a press aide on his 2002 Gubernatorial campaign. It was insanity. And wonderful. We didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, we met 100 new folks every day and didn’t stop to breathe until we got the man we believed in elected. And inaugurated. And a cabinet.

Then we did the same thing for Tennessee’s Imagination Library. 95 Counties in 24 months! Ain’t too shabby.

I think my Bredesen years set me up to only really feel fulfilled when I’m working hard for a cause I believe in while surrounded by great people (and strangers).

Those are the moments when I’m consciously thinking “Man, I love what I do”

Seems I’ve got to be a front lines worker bee and experience some warm fuzzy. Sorry! I just can’t deny it and I don’t perform as well without it – it’s why I’m a PUBLIC relations gal.

So, that’s my career sweet spot: a social worker bee(liever).

What office trio makes your heart sing?

They say it’s poor form to call and thank a reporter for a good/accurate story, and for the most part I agree.

So while I won’t be calling and saying “hey, thanks” to the folks who crafted thoughtful and well-written stories about the Southern Festival of Books, I will say here how grateful I am for reporters, editors and bloggers who so obviously “get” what a festival of this nature means to the City of Nashville. Not all of them do, of course.

I’ve attended the Southern Festival of Books most of my life and it’s an honor to do their PR, but no amount of pitching can make a reporter say something like,  “I attended this event and it made me proud of Nashville.”

I’m not grateful that the print media covered the event, that’s what people pay me to ensure. I’m grateful for the sincerity of the coverage.

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Sidebar: I will thank a reporter for making the trek out to cover an event because they don’t have to; but they should “have to” file well-written and accurate stories, ya know?