Tomorrow, The Harvard Business School is hosting some kind of Business Growth Conference in Anaheim. For some ungodly reason, I've been invited to speak on one of the panels. This is as close as I will ever get to an Ivy League University.
Years ago, I entertained the thought of going to Cornell, that is until a friend who was giving us a tour of the campus pointed out the "Suicide Bridge" where over-burdened students have opted to take a different kind of final.
It's hard to believe my name and the esteemed Harvard name actually do appear on the same web page. Albeit a mangled version of my name:
I suppose I should be nervous with all these CEO's and Harvard MBA's sitting around talking about 'shifting communications paradigms' and 'brand core essence architecture' and 'evolving social media landscape and its effect on messaging channel distribution'. But I'm not. Because frankly, it's all so much mental masturbation.
If somebody asks me a question, I'm going to talk about what I like, what I know and what I find funny. I'm going to talk about the new Old Spice commercial.
I'm on a panel.