PRODUCTIVITY: Meetings without notes are just “campfires”

FROM AN EMAIL I WROTE

Meetings without notes are just “campfires”.

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“Campfire” meetings are just like a potlatch which could involve a feast, with music, dance, theatrically and spiritual ceremonies. In it’s simplest form, the campfire meeting is just a gathering that tell stories. Often, promises are made, deliveries scheduled, oaths given. And all is lost when the meeting ends. Even before the last final Kumbaya has been sung, the agreement begins to erode. There needs to be a “totem pole” erected recording who was to do what.

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I like a very structured meeting. Otherwise nothing seems to be accomplished.

The CHAMPION is the one who calls the meeting, ensures attendance, and justifies the effort. The ORGANIZER is responsible for the venue. The ARCHIVIST (the politically correct name for the Secretary) creates the agenda and minutes. The TIMEKEEPER keeps the meeting on schedule. The FACILITATOR moderates the debate with in the rules of engagement.

At the very least, there is an ANNOUNCEMENT, the AGENDA which may be sent with the announcement, and the MINUTES which may be in the form of informal notes.

Without structure, accomplishments are by luck; not design. I used to have a boss, who would announce at the beginning and end of a meeting, how much that meeting could / did cost the organization in salary dollars. It kept meetings short and focused. He made me crazed about meetings.

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POLITICAL: “I’m buying hope,” he shrugged.

http://www.mises.org/story/2752

Anatomy of the Ron Paul Nation
By Cyd Malone
Posted on 10/18/2007

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So I sobered up and came back down to earth. In the early stages of the party, before the names and conversations blurred with fun, I spoke to a gentleman from New Jersey — Jason was his name — more of my age and far more sober minded. We both agreed that Ron Paul’s chances of becoming president are slim to none, forget what the Vegas odds makers say. Recognizing him as a Four Figure fellow, I asked him why then did he hand over so much money to Mr. Paul’s campaign.

He thought about it and gave me the answer to the same question I’d been asking of myself: “I’m buying hope,” he shrugged.

As Carl Menger would agree, hope has a price, too. Water can be more costly than a diamond under the right circumstances, and so can hope. Yet, despite a wife who deserves diamond earrings but instead gave them away to the longest of long shots, despite the fact that when I mentioned his name at a business dinner a week prior every single person at the table knew who Ron Paul was, and despite the large chunk of cash I handed over to buy it, I will admit I still don’t have a lot of hope.

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ME2! I’m buying hope. If Ron Paul doesn’t win, then the situation is hopeless. The sheep are unsalvageable. The takers have outvoted us producers. We’ll next need a George Washington.

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