Last night I went to a cocktail party in New York, hosted by a couple I met at TED this year. Marvelous people, accomplished, worldly, curious. And they have a lovely New York apartment, although I understand they spend more time in other places they enjoy.

They invited others they met at TED so it was a kind of reunion, though most of us did not know each other.  Many looked familiar to me and, now, thanks to this couple's hospitality, the group of people I'll know at TED next year in Vancouver will have expanded.

Best of all, it was the conversation last night that was remarkable. Everyone was fascinating to me, each with a different world of experience that made me eager to learn more. I suspect that one or two may even become friends. It was one of those evenings where the weather was just right, the view of Central Park from the balcony where we all stood was magical, and the wine was especially delicious.

Makes me think of the newest Great Gatsby film which I've not yet seen. Where everyone is beautiful and those with aspiration feel special to be among them. Big difference, though. Gatsby and his friends were dysfunctional, focused on money and power. Many of the people I met last night are powerful in one way or another, for sure. And many have money. But what turns them on are ideas and what drives them is their intention to do something that has impact on the world that will leave it a better place. Whether or not all will succeed is not the point. It's the big thinking that charged the room last night, not glitz.

                                        

So once again, thank you, TED, for introducing me to marvelous people intent on having conversations about ideas worth spreading...

At the invitation of my new friend, marvelous Priya Parker, a gifted entrepreneur, facilitator, conversationalist, and more (she is the Founder of Thrive Labs and a TEDx Cambridge Speaker), I attended a fascinating evening last night at a place in Chelsea store called Story.

Story is a store with a short attention span. And it's all good. Every six weeks or so, the store completely revamps itself and chooses a new theme around which to select the merchandise they will sell for that next season. They take out all the current merchandise (just where do they put it? Or do they give it away?) and they redo the store interior to match the new theme. I'm told, for example, that for their Christmas store, they redid the store to feel like someone's New York apartment and you wandered from room to room, sat on the sofas, drank warm drinks, and bought stuff.

The current theme is "Design" and every item in the store appeared to have been selected because it was just, well, cool design. From a new (at least to me) kind of band-aid that you draw on so you design your own wound-covered (I know plenty of kids who would love that and it comes complete with its own crayons), to cool looking furniture to chocolates from Paris. The place is cool. And it didn't hurt to have generous pourings of Stolichnaya vodka, thanks to that brand who likes the story people a whole lot.

With good reason. Story seems to have the pulse of a target market that is hip, always interested in the new and changing, and spends money.

The evening featured three pairings of people who interviewed each other about what was on their mind, loosely centered on the theme of design. Priya's partner was James Patten who is a TED Fellow and runs a studio where he makes this with his hands for corporate clients who seem to like him a lot. Priya helps people design their lives and she talked of methods she uses to engage people, earn their trust, then help them voice the kind of things that will propel them to do the cool stuff they've always wanted to do.

The other two pairings were fascinating as well, especially the third one in which each of the two people revealed their deep dark fears, rarely shared with others. Apparently they felt safe sharing those fears with strangers, like me, because they did so with flare. I was fascinated to learn, for example, that Jessica Banks, a Roboticist and the Co-founder of RockPaperRobot, is afraid of mattresses. She gets agitated at seeing a mattress so always gets someone else to help her change her bed linens.

Go figure. But trust me, that's a conversation ice breaker if you ever needed one...

A teensy little pizza slice of concrete near my office has been rendered festive with Marimekko umbrellas and surrounded by a selection of good and cheap eats from beloved New York eateries. And it has taken over the Flatiron lunch hour with a flourish.

Folks can't get enough of the place and the food they're serving from the temporary foodstalls. And the beer and wine that goes along with it. They are there starting late morning and spilling out to the sidewalk, crowding out curious pedestrians long after the area offices have closed.

And they're talking. Every table seems to be a hot spot for conversation. It's lively, it's fun, it's as if summer has arrived and everyone wants to be outside. Right now. For as long as possible.

I've been told Mad Sq Eats is only a pop-up and will disappear on May 31. Say it isn't so! These great conversations would not have occurred but for the fact that these people came together in this place, with each other, with this great food to initiate the conversation. Who knows? Maybe someone met his or her life partner over the sushi at Mad Sq Eats.

Keep it going!

I've read numerous reports lately that fewer Americans are driving cars. And fewer young people are getting a driver's license. (Really? That was the singular most important indication of freedom from one's family when I was growing up. It was the key--literally--to getting out in the world.) And those who do drive, are driving fewer miles. A lot fewer.

What's going on? For one thing, in some cities public transportation has gotten better and more accessible.  And bike riding is increasingly seen as a good alternative to driving one's car, especially with city-sponsored bike lanes improving safety for bicycle riders. And the recession has meant fewer people are commuting in their cars. Lots of reasons.

But here is the one that stuck out for me in reading an article in today's New York Times entitled "Young Americans Lead Trend to Less Driving." Michael Sivak of the Transportation Research Institute at the University of Michigan has been involved in research into driving habits of the young. Sivak opines that online usage has something to do with the trend towards fewer young people being interested in getting a driver's license. In the study they did, he reports that "a higher proportion of Internet users was associated with a lower licensure rate." And he goes on to say "This finding is consistent with the hypothesis that access to virtual contact reduces the need for actual contact among young people."

Say it isn't so. I have to let that sink in: "Access to virtual contact reduces the need for actual contact among young people."

I hate to think that young people would rather sit text their friends that get together with those friends.  Some of the happiest moments of my high school life are associated with memories of the time we would spend deciding who could "have the car" from their household and then who would be included in our evening of "driving around" as we called it. We would literally just drive around town, picking up our friends at their homes to join in the conversation that would go on for hours in the car, with an occasional stop for a Coke or other snack at a drive-in stand.

Those days of "car talk" were part of growing up. I can't imagine it being as much fun to simply text my buddies and read their responses on that dinky screen on my phone. C'mon, people. Get a life. 

I suppose I should be praising this trend because fewer cars and less gas usage means a cleaner environment (although, while we Americans are reducing our hunger for automotive life, people elsewhere in the world are gearing up--quite literally--to become car owners and drivers and polluters in their respective countries). But somehow the nostalgia of car talk and all that means about growing up in an earlier America takes over and I have to say I pity kids of today who think their phone is a substitute for the family car. 

And the freedom of being at the wheel of the car, driving out of the driveway, and into adulthood.

 

Wow!  What a thrill it was to experience this well run, tour de force art fair.  Every detail was considered--and executed--professionally and thoroughly, including the shuttle buses that ran every 10 minutes from the Guggenheim Museum on Fifth Avenue to Randalls Island. You could also take one of the charming yellow water taxis from the 34th Street Pier, all bright yellow and checkerboard, resembling the beloved Checker Cabs of earlier New York days.

Either way, the scene was only minutes away from Manhattan but worlds away from the bustle.  Getting off the bus, you felt transported to a place with a sense of calm and fresh air on your way into the cavernous, airy, inviting pop up "tent" which housed the fair and a variety of restaurants serving everything from fancy 3 course meals to gelato dished out from a pushcart. Even the gelato was the scrumptious upscale variety served by St. Ambroeus, so it wasn't exactly street food. In fact everything about this Art Fair was first class.  I attended the second last day of the show, after the people who spent literally a million or more on a piece of art had already written their checks and gone home.  So I can only imagine what it was like to see it on the earlier evenings when champagne was flowing.

What I especially loved about the fair was its sophisticated sense of globality.  Galleries from forty different countries were there in force, representing a total of over a thousand different artists.  No cheapo bargains among them.  This was not art you'd find at the church fair where every amateur pulls out his rendering of the local schoolhouse.  Or the outdoor art fairs in New York where very amateur pulls out her string drawings.  These things were expensive.  And the excitement and buzz around some of the installations suggested that many of them were indeed going to be sold before the fair is broken down at the end of today.

Of course, this art market is so hot many are predicting it will be another bubble and things will crash down on those who are today spending seven figure sums for what is, truth be told, a piece of canvas covered with paint.  Or a steel structure that if the bubble bursts, could be melted down and worth only a hundred dollars. 

But this is the craziness of today's art work market and it's great fun to at least feel part of the conversation for a few hours.  Here's the link to the Daily Beast piece on Frieze New York 2013 which gives a good view of some of the pieces for sale.  The Frieze was the talk of the town, at least for several days.  Now, New York style, we're on to another conversation-worthy event. 

Take one small space near Madison Square Park and surround it with about twenty food vendors, offering a diversity of delights from French crepes to Scandinavian sandwiches and you create the perfect place to crowd a bunch of folks who want something adventuresome to eat and a chance to talk about it.

This all works well in the pop-up food extravaganza called Madison Square Eats, open only through May 31 after which it disappears. How wonderful, now that the weather is sunny and forces us outdoors, to sit at a table under a Marimekko-fabric umbrella and chat with friends over an enchilada or any other of dozens of food treats now available.

The crowd is noisy, upbeat and apparently delighted with the food offerings because the number of people has grown larger each day since Monday's opening this week.

One more example of New York becoming an open cafe city, encouraging conversation at every corner.

 

I'm in love with the recent series of ads run by Wells Fargo. The series is called "Iconic Conversations" and each piece in the series highlights situations that depict highly inspiration conversations...like Jane Goodall talking to chimps, and a young deaf woman hearing another's voice for the first time.

I believe that conversations fuel great ideas. And they memorialize great events, like the conversation that results in people becoming engaged, or a father teaching his son or daughter how to hit a baseball with a bat.

We know that the amount of conversation people direct to an infant is correlated to that child's ability to learn and develop. So that connective kind of conversation is wired into us as humans (I guess Jane Goodall would argue it is true of other animals as well).

So hats off to Wells Fargo. The lines that flash across the screen are powerful:

"When people talk, it broadens our horizons and creates change.

When people talk, it brings us together, makes us laugh and creates joy.

When people talk, it overcomes obstacles and takes us beyond our wildest dreams. 

So start a conversation today. The possibilities are endless.

When people talk, things happen."

Wells Fargo is right. What are you waiting for? Go start that conversation...

 

My company is a relatively new tenant in our office building here in Manhattan, in the famous Flatiron district.  It's a relatively small building by some standards, 15 floors and about five or six tenants per floor at the most. It's an art deco building with some interesting features, including an iron staircase much like those found in many buildings in SoHo.

Although we see people at the elevator banks when we enter and exit the building, we seldom talk with them and there is not much activity on the office floors themselves.

Well, that was true until yesterday when over the public address system, a voice announced a building-wide fire drill.  We dutifully trooped out, as directed, to the elevator area, which is also where that marvelous staircase is located.

There was a buzz of conversation from floor to floor, since everyone gravitated to the stairwell railing and initiated conversations with others on their floors, even some between floors. It was as if we'd all arrived early at a cocktail party and were eager to know who else was there.

We began to talk with people from other companies on our floor, most of whom I'd never seen before. The mood was festive, light-hearted. That kind of New York moment where people who are otherwise strangers suddenly decide to be friendly and get to know one another.

One thing is for sure: it will be much more interesting to get on the elevator every day. If nothing else, we can talk about the fire drill that fueled conversation.

I was reminded the other day that even though it has been nearly two years since my husband and I moved into our new apartment in Manhattan, we've not had a party for the other neighbors on our floor...or for anyone else in the building, for that matter.

That's not my usual style. Born and bred a Midwesterner, I can't get it out of my blood that being neighborly is a prerequisite for being a resident in a community of any size. As I think about it, every time I've moved to a new home (about ten times!) I've always had a party for the neighbors. And it has never failed to be more than just fun; we've gotten to know people quickly, learned tips that might have taken us a long time to know on our own, and made friends, some of whom are still friends many years and geographic moves later.

So what happened this time? Perhaps it is that my husband spends most of his time in Washington, DC these days in connection with his work at the Pentagon so it is hard to schedule a party enough in advance to give people appropriate notice. And if we're going to meet the neighbors, I want to be sure he's there, too. But that's not a good enough excuse so I'm putting that neighbor party on my to-do list, near the top.

Most of you know I have a son who lives in Hong Kong and I've suggested he do the same to meet his neighbors, especially now that he has moved into a truly international neighborhood of mostly Chinese, but other nationalities, too.

This new interest of mine in all things neighborly is fueled by reading a piece on Daily Beast the other day which talks of a movement called, yes, the Neighboring Movement. The thinking of its founders is that as much as we are all moved to take action, send money, shed tears and wring hands over instances of violence and mayhem in places all over the world, many of us have never gotten to know our neighbors. And, the thinking goes, if everyone knew and engaged meaningfully with the people who live near them, the entire world would be a more peaceful place. The movement was founded by a group of Christians and there is a religious underpinning of the project, but it makes sense, no matter what your religious inclination. It certainly has worked for me and my family up til now, so I plan to get those invites out soon.

 

How about you. Talked to your neighbors lately?

 

My silence for the past two weeks has all to do with my being in Asia. Hong Kong, to be exact. And there were lots of conversations.

I facilitated an Inner Circle while there, co-hosted by John Slosar, Chief Executive of Cathay Pacific Airlines. The title of the discussion was "Nice-to-have or Core Strategy?...Just how important is design to the bottom line?"  The participants were a marvelous group, including Thomas Heatherwick, Founder and Principal of Heatherwick Studio, the revered design guru who is responsible for a multitude of major design projects including the Olympic Cauldron for the 2012 Olympic Games, and even the new London buses. Ernie Greer, who formerly ran all of Asia for Steelcase, and Cecilia Wong, who heads marketing for Coach were there, too. It was quite a group and there was a variety of perspective around the table about just how important--or not--design is to the way businesses make their money.

Everyone likes to refer to Apple as the company that put design front and center in its strategy and we all know just how well they rode that horse. However, now that Apple may have lost some of its aura, the question arises whether it was design that made for its success (else, why does it falter now?) or was it something else.

The group had a variety of opinions about Apple (and all else, for that matter) and I was especially taken with Ernie Greer's approach to the question. He says that Apple did so well not so much because of the design of the products themselves, but the design of their entire business system, which includes their supply chain and their retail stores. Especially their retail stores.

It was a fascinating discussion and in the end, there were many suggestions from people around the table for Cathay Pacific Airlines, from the design of their airport lounges to why luggage has to be stored in overhead lockers, which we all know are devilish places to reach with heavy bags. I loved the idea of placing the luggage storage compartments below the seats, but we were told there is good reason for it to be overhead. Hmmm. That sounds a bit like "been there, done that" by people who have simply always assumed things can't be changed.

Anyway, it started a whole new conversation about just how important design is to airlines and for that matter, to every business around the table.