I was recently pulled, kicking and screaming, into the world of Facebook. “I have more than 200 contacts on LinkedIn!” I cried, “Why do I need to be on Facebook! It’s a waste of time.”
But a friend convinced me that I would have fun on Facebook, so since I’m always out to have a little fun, I set up a page. Rudimentary information only: Name, schools, jobs, etc. Nothing that I wouldn’t mind sharing with a couple million people.
Within 24 hours, I had 60 friend requests. Not business contacts, but friends from elementary school, from previous jobs, and from college. I decided Facebook would be my “let off some steam and let my hair down” world. No business contacts, only friends from days gone by.
I like to think that I’m pretty good at keeping in contact with friends. About once a month I go out for drinks and revelry with people I went to school with starting when I was just five years old. I go hiking with high school classmates at least twice a month, and I communicate on a pretty regular basis with college roommates and floor mates.
But Facebook is fun and addicting and keeps me in touch with friends in a much more relaxed and “let it all hang out” kind of way. So I poke, I send smiles, I update my status and comment on others’ status, too.
And then one day a light bulb flashed bright neon.
I updated my status about a work project with which I was struggling. I got a number of comments and messages from people across the globe (yes, I even reconnected with friends who are no longer in the United States). Some offered to take my mind off the project, while others asked, “What exactly do you do for a living?”
Several of those inquiring about my professional exploits were people I have known for more than 40 years. One is part of my bi-monthly hiking group.
Picture that light bulb getting brighter and brighter.
I realized that, if my friends have no clue what I do, then I do a really bad job of networking with the people I have known the longest. And the people who, presumably, know me the best.
I explained what I do to those who asked. Not in a 60-second elevator speech kind of way, but a less polished, more friendly manner. I told them about the kinds of clients I have and what kind of work I like to do best.
And my efforts turned into referrals. Two so far, amounting in about $20,000 worth of business.
So the lesson of the story is this:
- Nothing is ever strictly for fun. There are always business ramifications involved.
- Make sure your closest and oldest friends know what you do. You may think they do, but there is a good chance they have a vague idea and nothing more.
- No matter how good you think you are at keeping in contact, you can always do better.