For the last several months, the Times has rotated the On Language column among several writers. Ben was one of them, and over time, I’ve discovered that whenever I read his columns, I no longer felt as lost.

Ben is an executive producer at Visual Thesaurus, which is far and away my favorite word source. Subscribe if you haven’t already; it’s well worth it. I use it regularly, both at home and at work. It creates word maps, which are endlessly fun to explore (a little too entertaining, actually; either that or I have ADD). The word maps cluster synonyms of the word you’ve searched according to its meanings. This allows you to easily explore variants of precisely the meaning that you want to convey.

For language lovers and writers, Visual Thesaurus also offers several columns worth reading. Ben, for example, writes Word Routes. There’s also the Word of the Day and a feature called Word Lists.

I confess that I read these features and columns irregularly, but that’s only because I have a lack of discipline. Usually, I’m blowing all of my self-imposed VT daily time allotment on those damn addictive word maps. See for yourself what I’m missing.

A few years ago, Ira recorded a four-part YouTube series on how to tell stories (watch the first one here; click on the link to get to the rest). It’s well worth watching.

Ira Glass on storytelling

I love stories. Who doesn’t? Not only do they entertain us, but they help us make sense of ourselves and the world around us. Beyond that, I’m also endlessly fascinated by arranging words into a bright light of understanding.

In Nora and Delia Ephron’s play, Love, Lost and What I Wore, clothes tell the story of a woman’s life – and give it meaning. Based on Ilene Beckerman’s book, the play tells the life stories of several women through their memories of their wardrobes.

The play harnesses the power of the familiar. Shirts, dresses, boots, the color black, rules about length and season, Eileen Fisher – every woman has similar if not identical experiences as the storytellers on stage.

My story is about my wedding dress, bought straight off the rack for $100. Over the years, I’ve come to think of it as the ugliest dress ever. It’s true that it could have outdone Cinderella at the ball:  wide loop skirt, ornate bodice, BIG organza sleeves. It was as elegant as a Tiffany’s diamond bracelet. But…I was more of a silver bracelet girl – costume, that is.

Actually, I was more of a gold girl, and diamonds didn’t hold my fascination. I was too practical. Why spend all that money on a big rock? I wanted a house. So, I chose one-third of a carat, and for years, my husband has been disappointed by this frugal choice. He has promised to replace it with something larger. For reasons that will become clear, I’m holding him to that promise this year.

As proud as I was of that dress at the time, I did take a pair of scissors to it. I snipped off the large bow from the back of the dress. It was a little too much for me, even in my love-struck state. I’d forgotten completely about the bow, until I saw it again.

No, I didn’t find it tucked into a corner of some lost box of wedding memorabilia. I saw it on the big screen. It was worn by the bride in the wedding scene (post-credits) in the comedy, Napoleon Dynamite. Yep, that’s how awful my dress was. It was meant to be a prop in a comedy movie and laughed at.

We laugh a lot in this house; we manage to find the humor in a lot of things. Some of my favorite vacation photos are of the boys, on top of the Dublin Tour bus, laughing and goofing around with each other. These shots were taken right after we’d sat in a Dublin police station. Which was right after we’d searched through bushes around the Dublin Writer’s Museum. Which was right after we’d gotten on the Dublin Tour bus and gotten right off. Which was right after I discovered my wallet was missing. Along with my cash. And my credit cards. And my airport lounge pass. And my wedding rings.

Which was a real bummer.

The truth is that I wasn’t all that upset. My jokes that “Now I’ll get a bigger rock,” have led people to say I planned this. (I didn’t; the rings were in my wallet by mistake. Really.)

This photo of my boys is the heart of it all. We’re together, safe, unharmed, happy. All that stuff – the ugliest wedding dress, the tiny diamond, the missing wedding band – it’s all just stuff. And we’ve survived it all.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

I’m not sure I can summon the words that best capture how I feel. So, please, forgive me if my words are dull, without verve, and minus any clever alliterations. Frankly, I’m not up to it. Not that I ever expected to be up to his standards, but I’m disappointed that I can’t coax something more profound from my lexicon to memorialise him.

But I can share a few simple stories.

There was a deliberate pattern to my Saturday morning. Gym, coffee, New York Times (newsprint edition). Real estate section, the Lives column, the Ethicist, On Language, then random articles throughout the Saturday and Sunday editions. In essence, I saved Safire for last, so that I could savor the anticipation of his column.

Once, we were having breakfast at the diner, and I began exclaiming, “oh my god,” over and over.  I can’t fault my husband for looking alarmed. But it was only Safire, who had mentioned that my company, Factiva, “sometimes outgoogled Google.” I headed up PR for Factiva at the time and really felt that this time, he’d chosen the wrong word. Always would have been more accurate.

Over the last several weeks, I’ve noticed other bylines adorning On Language, but I was busy with the end of vacation, the beginning of a new season of work and a new year of school. I assumed Safire was on vacation (wasn’t he always off for a couple of weeks in August?). I didn’t know he was battling cancer. The news made me feel guilty.  I should’ve known. Friends pay attention, right?

Isn’t it funny that a writer can make you feel this way? I felt as close to him as any friend, a regular in the bar, a colleague at work. I’m convinced I knew him because I read his columns. Of course, I didn’t; but like his friends, I’ll now need to learn how to move on without him. Saturday mornings will be different.

It seems appropriate to let him have the last word, even in this blog post. Here’s the farewell column he wrote when he retired from the NYT Op-Ed pages. Watch out for the traps.

Since then, I’ve been a big advocate of hands free and focused driving habits. That’s why today’s recommended read is an article in the New York Times, Driven to Distraction. I think we’ve all experienced many of the situations described. Just yesterday, for example, as we headed to the beach on the interstate, I cautioned my husband to get ahead of the Lincoln Aviator we were following. The driver was erratic and had swerved several times into the adjacent lane, once very nearly colliding with the car next to it. I pointed out that we were close enough behind to be involved if a crash did occur. As we passed the Aviator, I looked over at the driver. Sure enough, she was on a cell phone.

The Times article points out that although we know that fiddling with our devices while driving is dangerous, we’re still very unlikely to stop doing it. Admittedly, I haven’t completely stopped multitasking while driving, though my cell phone/BlackBerry use has become much rarer. Still, 5 seconds is all it takes to change a life. Which is why I do think laws are needed and it’s disappointing that lawmakers are reluctant to pass limitations.

Apparently the cell phone industry has taken a neutral stance. That’s too bad, because it would be a good public relations move to align itself with public safety. It might provide a good value proposition for new voice-guided GPS smartphone applications too. A couple of weeks ago, I came very close to buying AT&T’s new Navigator app for the iPhone, but it came at a price of $9.99 a month. No way! I thought. Get a grip on your pricing, AT&T! Why would I pay for this? How’s it better than the Garmin?

But after this article, perhaps I might rethink the app for safety reasons. $120 a year seems a small price to pay for not having to look down every few minutes at a silent navigator. Interestingly, if you watch the flash for AT&T’s Navigator, you’ll notice that safety isn’t part of the AT&T pitch (having GPS with you all the time, and finding the lowest priced gas and a wifi spot is).  And, yikes!, it includes a photo of a woman behind the wheel staring at her phone (though it’s not clear if she’s on the road or parked – but why include such an ambiguous photo?!?!).

I’m also thinking that it might be a good idea to get my teen to sign a driving contract. I found a pretty comprehensive one here that can be modified to individual situations.

Bottom line: Driving without distractions is the way to go.

Here’s the problem. I am very social; I like to talk and ask questions. My husband really isn’t anti-social, but he is very proper: polite, but not overly aggressive. I, on the other hand, will walk up to a stranger in a crowd (as I did one night last week and introduced myself to nearby runners at the Corporate Challenge). His decorum extends to the types of questions he’ll ask. Certain things are off limits. (“You asked them what?!” he’ll say, aghast, when I mention how much a neighbor paid for a newly installed patio.) Consequently, it’s usually up to me to get the conversation going. Otherwise, we don’t get much further than first names.

“I was you,” he proudly said to me later. “I asked their names, found out where they lived, where they worked, and how they knew (our sister-in-law).”

And he did more: he shared. He told them where I was, why I was late, all about our children; so that when I sat down, to my surprise (and some disappointment, as I also enjoy storytelling and, ahem, being the center of attention), they already knew me.

Such sharing of experience, background and knowledge is also a critical skill at work. Employees that are willing to open up and socialize in the office tend to gather information that helps them do their jobs better. Organizations that make collaboration easy either through technology or culture can turn the wisdom of crowds into competitive advantage.

At Dow Jones, two of my colleagues – Daniela Barbosa and Greg Merkle - collaborated with social media pioneers, Robert Scoble and Shel Israel on an ebook about social networking and collaboration in the enterprise. The Conversational Corporation looks at the impact of social media and Gen O (the online generation, also known as digital natives) on corporate social networking programs. It also offers some tips for developing a more conversational corporation.

So, how social is your organization? Does it make collaboration easy? Are employees banned from FaceBook and Twitter (this will change; remember when companies banned employees from the Internet? Medieval times, they were). Does your organization encourage conversations via social media tools both inside and outside the organization?

Here’s my favorite anecdote from the ebook:

There is yet another reason that we feel Gen O is the killer app for social media adoption. Companies that do not embrace social media will be hard-pressed to attract the best and brightest new employees. Ethan Bodnar, a Cornell-bound high school junior and an Eagle Scout, was interviewed by Shel for the SAP survey. Shel asked him if he would ever work for an employer who prohibits blogging.

“Why would I work for company that doesn’t trust me enough to let me talk about my job?” Bodnar asked. Shel had no answer.

For those of us in PR, the answer to the last is tricky. Our CEOs are definitely jittery, wondering where in the socialsphere the next reputational disaster will hit. And who wouldn’t be? How many kids are out there with a Flip camera, a wicked sense of humor, and a limited appreciation for the potential consequences of their actions?  Yeah. No wonder the PR profession is holding steady in these economic times.

My PR friends have been telling me that they need to monitor everything – mainstream media, blogs, boards, Twitter, FaceBook, digg, YouTube, and on and on. Listening strategically is what will help us pinpoint the next brand disruption. Engaging regularly in conversation both internally and externally is what will help us avoid the risk. But it’s on us – the PR team – to make sure the external conversation is distilled and delivered inside to key executives as well. That’s how reputational disaster is avoided.

Speaking of internal conversations, I have good news: Earlier this month, the PRSA NJ Chapter recognized my ebook, “Talk to Me: 10 Tips for Translating PR Results into the Language of Business,” with a Pyramid award. Thanks so much to the chapter for this. The ebook is based on my research as a grad student at Syracuse’s Newhouse School. With so many disruptive technologies and behaviors challenging our profession – not to mention the economic crisis and some profound changes in journalism – I think it’s more relevant today than when I completed the study three years ago.

So, now I’m interested to see if my husband’s newly found disruptive behavior will continue. I plan to test him out this weekend at Trenton’s Art All Night.

It’s not the last alternative career considered and destroyed in a moment. I’m fascinated by medical science and would jump at the chance to solve medical mysteries as a doctor. Except for those body parts and fluids. Also, I’m not the nurturing type (just ask my kids!).

Currently, novelist is at the top of my alt career list.  Second is managing my own small business. Coffee shop? Running store? Hmmm.

Everyone has an alternative career list, yet our collective fortune up until now hasn’t really forced us to seriously consider it.  But there are now laid-off investment bankers becoming math teachers, and reporters becoming nurses - people are reinventing themselves.

And I find I’m having conversations a lot more frequently about what people can do in this environment. Not just to keep their current job, but steps they can take to stand out, be different, create their own brand.  And this reminds me of a story I read in Fast Company 12 years ago (don’t ask me why – with my notoriously bad memory – but a few things do just stick with me, including useless movie trivia).

The Brand Called You is still relevant today – maybe more so. The current work environment is more competitive and more cutthroat than ever.  Think management knows what distinctive qualities make you invaluable? Can you articulate the link between what you do and the bottom line? If you can, you’ve got to say so loudly and frequently. Like that frankly frightening eTrade baby.  You need a brand.

Your career isn’t unlike trying to cross a wide, rushing stream. You’ve got to choose the right stepping stones, withstand the force of the water, and keep an eye out for slippery moss.

Here are three ways to develop Brand You and survive the downturn.

1) Cross train. It doesn’t matter if you’re just out of college or have 30 years on the job. Look for ways to improve your current game with continuous learning. But also shake things up. Every now and then, try another sport. If you’ve always been in product development, take a chance to learn another part of the business. Move to sales.

2) Get a crystal ball. You should always have a six-month line of sight into your organization’s future. And yes, it is possible to develop highly plausible scenarios based on information available today. Review sales, OI and economic trend data. Know your organization’s goals and strategy for achieving them. Find the insiders and ask questions.  Then, put yourself in management’s shoes and be honest: will they need your group six months from now if revenues continue to decline? Which areas are they investing in? Do you have skills that would be valuable to these areas?

5) Then…Reinvent yourself. My favorite piece of advice. You – Brand You – stands for a distinctive combination of core qualities, skills and personality. Knowing your essential value prop and your strengths will also help you recognize when they can be rescrambled into something new.

I’ve always joked that I’m only good at one thing: writing. But I’ve cross-trained over the years, picking up business development, research, crisis management, public relations, and marketing skills along the way.  And, I’ve been pretty adept at sizing up the stepping stones and recognizing that the seemingly logical path might leave me stranded in the middle of the stream – or worse, knock me downstream.

Reinvention doesn’t mean swapping one set of responsibilities for an entirely new set.  It means recognizing that you have multiple strengths that can open up a range of vastly different career choices.  When I came out of college, I thought writing was the only way I would ever make a living.  But, today, I know that I can easily package up my math, critical thinking, and leadership skills and trade my PR job for a marketing one. Or as owner of my new coffee shop.

Latte, anyone?

It wasn’t until I hit the 6 mile marker of the Broad Street Run this morning that I began to consider what it takes to organize a race of 26,500 runners.  As the web site says: hundreds of volunteers.

I know that we don’t say it as we run past, but we runners really appreciate the people who spend a day – or months – doing the tasks that make the run possible.

It may seem a simple thing, to fill cups with water and offer them to passing runners.  I know from my own experience that I never really see the outstretched arm or the smiling face. I’m just focused on the cup. Get. Cup. Drink. Run.

So, I’m sure that while volunteers may sense that their work is appreciated, they may not know how much. Let me tell you: I may not look beyond the cup, but I do see you, and I’m extremely glad you’re there.

This was my first time at the Broad Street Run, and I really enjoyed it. It’s one of the best organized races I’ve been to. Everything was simple, despite the rain and a field of more than 23K.  It was a breeze to register and pick up our packets on the day before the race. I thought parking and getting to the start line would be a nightmare with so many people. It wasn’t. Frequent, free express SEPTA trains made it easier. The corral system worked because runners were started in waves, which avoided the bunching up of the field at the start. There were plenty of water stops. And everyone working along the route supported the runners with great enthusiasm.

This is what makes the race fun – but it’s also what makes it possible. Thank you, Broad Street Run volunteers, for sharing your city with us and helping to make this a successful run.

Per my OED, Gobbledegook (we spell differently in America), is “official, professional, or pretentious verbiage or jargon.” David Meerman Scott agrees and what’s more, he hates to see it in press releases (or marketing, for that matter).  I completely agree. That’s why we at Dow Jones enthusiastically helped David analyze 711,123 press releases for frequently used (actually, overused) jargon. We produced this analysis with one of our coolest services: Dow Jones Insight, which is used by PR pros to measure media coverage and identify the hot spots in social media conversations about their organizations.

ROI usually stands for Return on Investment, but lately when we use the acronym, it’s about Return on Intelligence. This is a knowledge economy, and we can’t underestimate the value of the stuff that fuels our ideas: information.  Brigitte Ricou-Bellan just published an ebook that offers some ideas on how to justify the investment in knowledge and information management solutions. My colleague, Ken Sickles, extends the conversation on this topic in his blog, Let’s Talk Knowledge.

Finally, ESI stands for the Dow Jones Economic Sentiment Indicator, but I really think it’s best described as an optimism indicator. You’ll want to check this out. We’ve paired the proprietary algorithm of Dow Jones Insight with the economic expertise of Dow Jones editors to produce a new leading indicator of the state of the economy. We’ve tested the optimism indicator against other well-regarded indicators – and it has been a better predictor than all of them. It will be the one to watch over the coming months.