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Should anyone care: Sid's prejudices, in no particular order:
 | I'll never forget the attendee at one of my conferences several years back who stood up to ask "I wish you'd stop using such big words in your newsletter!" I believe I bit my tongue, unusual for the tell-it-like-it-is annual report guru. But I recall thinking to myself, "This woman's in the wrong business." A love for words I'd say is a key requisite for an annual report producer. |
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| I'd give anything to find more producers who didn't have tunnel vision, weren't myopic. So many, unable to control themselves any longer, finally email, or phone, to inquire: "Well, how'd I do?" Assuming, I suspect, that Sid's just sitting around picking and choosing which to reveal as winners or losers, which to hold back. My response: "I have no idea. Wait until I have a chance to analyze your report, and then do it over several more sittings." Inevitably, that's followed by more dialogue—until I have to advise the nudge: "Surely you don't want me to rush to judgment, do you? Why would you want to annoy me when I'm trying to fairly, calmly evaluate your report?" It usually takes two or three such repartees to becalm the restless. Duh. (Some phone, leaving their number, asking that I call them back—to tell them how did they. Again, duh.) |
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| Inevitably, when fast out of the starting gate I'm asked, "Well, how'd I do, Sid?" I say, usually to a veteran producer: "Well, you tell me. Surely you know my criteria. It's unfair of you to put the onus on me when you ought to know how you did." Years back, Mosinee Paper's Don Janis took issue with my preliminary assessment, but then wisely left me alone. Months later, as the competition was drawing to a close, I phoned to ask "How many points did you say you thought your report deserved?" He responded—precisely what, upon several subsequent reviews, I had arrived at. He was right all along, was willing to wait for resolution. |
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| Another irritant is the producer who wonders how I've rated his or her report. "Are you sure you sent it to me?" I ask. "Golly, I believe so; let me check." That's guaranteed to build confidence in the caller. |
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| My biggest prejudice of all, referenced in my August 2001 newsletter, is the person pleading for a pass—"if you criticize my report one more time, I'm going to lose my job," one said several years back. My advice: "Then don't send me your report." Flash forward three or four years: Said producer, her work now adequate at best, offered herself up as a speaker at my annual conference. As one who could share her vast experience with leaders from around the world. I didn't bother responding. (My thought, frankly, was "Surely you jest!") |
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| Another, and last, pet peeve is the producer who swears "I never got a renewal notice; I just noticed I've not been getting your newsletter" for the last three or four months. I inform them they received three or more renewal notices. When they protest, I remind them the lateness over the years with which they've renewed—all records maintained on my computers. Like, "You've been six months or so late the three of five times your subscription expired," I informed one, based in Cleveland, another in New York City. |
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