TIME Magazine’s Joel Stein has asked me to start approving and dissaproving his social content. This makes me his social boss. He just wrote about our dynamic in his weekly “Awesome Column”. I’m adding this one to my resume.
Here’s an excerpt of the piece written by Joel Stein
We don’t like boring celebrities. Because we know that if we had all that money and approval, we would be fearlessly spouting forth at the Algonquin Round Table of life — telling the truth, quipping gutsily and being totally O.K. with the fact that sometimes we wore the exact same outfit better than another celebrity and sometimes we wore it a little worse.
So when celebrities got on Twitter, it was great.
Time Warner has too much to lose by letting me reveal my true thoughts here. That’s why six editors will read this before it goes to press. But I too have been stupidly posting my offensive thoughts directly on Twitter — thereby shedding more than 300,000 followers over the past two years. So I’m not taking any more chances: I’m running all my public statements by Amy Jo Martin, the owner of Digital Royalty, which creates social-media strategies for companies and celebrities. She’s reviewed tweets for clients such as Shaquille O’Neal, Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson and Ultimate Fighting Championship president Dana White.(LIST: Top 10 Shocking Twitter Scandals)
I e-mailed all my tweets and Facebook updates to Martin on Monday before posting. I pretty much never got to post. She rejected my New Year’s Eve line about Dick Clark’s going from America’s Oldest Teenager to just America’s Oldest. “If you’re going to offend people, make sure your Return on Influence is there,” she e-mailed me. She turned down one about how if the GOP candidates were in gay relationships, Santorum would be more Ernie than Bert. “No. Just no. There are these things called brand boundaries, and you can’t cross them,” she wrote. When a woman said she liked me, Martin wouldn’t let me respond by telling her that I liked her overly revealing outfit. “You sound like a Twitter creeper,” Martin said. The only tweet she let me send out was this boring one: “When people say ‘I wish there were 2 of me’ they mean 1 to work and spend time with their family and 1 to do what they want.” Although one person did respond by writing, “You’re a pig.” That person was my wife.
Still, I didn’t lose any Twitter followers or Facebook friends. Martin’s strategies were so successful that I asked her to review everything I was about to say to my lovely wife Cassandra. Banter, I realized, is for wooers. No one divorces a guy for saying boring stuff.
I knew I was in a situation that would be difficult to navigate when Cassandra approached me as I entered the shower and started running her hands over my body. She was clearly freaking out about bedbugs. Though I had no bites, there were several suspicious bumps on her knees, so we stripped the bed, removed the mattress and brought out the steam cleaner. When she said, “I’m sorry I’m crazy,” I stepped away, closed the door and sent Martin an e-mail asking if I could reply, “You’re not crazy. You’re eccentric.” I got the green light. “Words like that are utility players in punt situations. ‘Interesting’ is another alternative,” she said.
Not only did my response not get me in trouble, but Cassandra tweeted it. We’re going to have long, happy, boring marriage.