Trigger Questions

Are You Easy To Remember or Easy To Forget?

Trigger Question #154

Why are they all staring at me?

. . .

Way back in the mid-1980s, I swapped my necktie for bow tie. Bow ties were so weird back then… what do you mean they are still weird? Whatever. Back then, bow ties were so uncommon that I never saw another person wearing one in public. At least, not as business attire.

People often asked me why I wore a bow tie. My standard response was, “If I must strangle myself at work, then I prefer to be strangled by something ridiculous.” But that was not the real reason. I switched to wearing bow ties because I often messed food on my neckties. A necktie is difficult to clean. Shirts, however, I can throw in the washer.

Here’s a fact about bow ties. They hide under your chin when you eat.

Here’s another fact. A bow tie is a memory jogger.

Do you realize if you are not remembered for something, then you will be forgotten for everything? Well, maybe not forgotten, just ignored.

Hey, relax! I just made that up. I’m sure someone somewhere won’t forget you even if they can’t remember why.

But think about it. With so many people in your social and business circles, why will they remember you? Or your name?

If you are serious about networking, business development, extending your reach, career prospects, the corporate ladder, dating, marriage, and so on, then you should aim to be worth remembering. And remembered positively, I strongly suggest.

Let’s be realistic for a moment. I’m not worried about being forgotten when I’m no longer a player on any scene, when I’m dead and gone. It’s today that I need to be remembered. Because if I am forgotten today, then I must introduce myself all over again.

When people referred to me as ‘the bow tie guy’, I no longer needed to introduce myself from scratch. I had accidentally created an easy way for people to remember me.

So remember, if you want to be remembered, make it easy for them. Create a memory jogger. Just not with a bow tie. That trick is taken.

Welcome to my side of the nonsense divide.

. . .