When Not to Give Advice

[photo by kirtaph]

Moments of stress

We were running a little late so I was programming the GPS while Kath was driving.

Downtown Annapolis is full of narrow one-way streets and roundabouts. On a Saturday afternoon in Spring it’s often crowded, yesterday was no exception.

“Go right,” I said.

Kath was British, her voice high pitched, soft and faltering by nature.

“Uh…okay…” she said as she looked at the GPS instead of the road. “Should I…? Wait, no…” her eyes were bouncing rapidly between the left-pointing arrow on the illuminated map and the cars all around us.

She was a bit indecisive and she was driving a tad recklessly.

Given the traffic on Main St., I thought she should take King George St. to SR450 instead of Rowe Blvd. to SR50, but before I said anything I realized it was time for me to be quiet.

I know what you’re thinking: I gave up too easily. I should have continued to offer advice a while longer, maybe been more directive, or used a stern, commanding voice.

You’d be wrong.

I know you’d be wrong even though I don’t know Kath that well. I know you’d be wrong because I’ve been around the block a few times and I knew where this was headed. It was headed to me getting ignored and Kath getting frustrated.

It was time for me to take on a more supportive role and let her do the driving. Even if it took us a little longer to get there. Even if we were late.

Moments of victory

I have learned enough in my life to realize Kath either wasn’t paying attention to me, didn’t trust me, didn’t want to be told what to do, or all of the above. That’s when it’s time to tactfully withdraw; you’ve done all you can.

We were on our way to her husband’s concert and once we got out of Annapolis the trip went smoothly; the feminine but direct voice of the GPS guided us right to the front door of the Dorchester Center for the Arts in Cambridge, Maryland.

My friend, Brett “Rabbit” Williams, was performing with his very talented accompanist Skye Martin. It was the kind of concert that gave you goosebumps. If you enjoy the “singer/songwriter” genre you’ll know what I’m talking about.

(To check out some of Rabbit’s music go to his site OrdinaryRabbit.com.)

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he said as he pumped my fist after the show. “Did everything sound all right? Was it balanced?”

I did notice during a couple numbers his guitar had overpowered Skye’s voice. If you think I told him that, you’d be wrong.

It was his moment to bask in the glory of a great show. He didn’t need to be brought down by thinking of anything he could have done differently. There’d be plenty of time for that later; right then let him enjoy the glow.

Moments of hope

While Rabbit was packing up his equipment I was mingling with some of the other members of the audience.

I wandered over to a young man with disheveled hair and square-framed glasses in a tweed jacket. Not being very good at mingling, I asked my standard ice breaker which led to a conversation about his almost-written book.

“I’ve pretty much got it done, so once that sells—boom! Best-seller, sure thing. Then it’s easy street.”

Now I’m not an author and I’m not in the publishing business, but I’ve done a fair amount of research over the past year and know some pretty straight-talking industry insiders like Julie Roads, Rachelle Gardner, Jane Friedman and Justine Musk so I think I’ve got a pretty realistic view of how likely it is to be successful as a first time author.

This kid had to be smoking crack. But do you think I told him that?

I just smiled and nodded. “That sounds like a great plan.”

Why? Because there’s no reason to stomp on a guy’s dream just because he’s young and dumb. Besides, he’d just met me. Do you think he’s going to take advice from me?

He doesn’t know if I know what I’m talking about and he doesn’t have a personal relationship with me. I’m just some dude he met at an Art Center concert.

In summary then

You shouldn’t give advice to someone:

1. Who’s driving

2. Enjoying a success

3. Who doesn’t know you as an expert

4. Who doesn’t know you care about their success

5. or anyone who hasn’t asked you for it directly