FullBleed

Photo by Pat Padua

I should tell you up-front that this is not a Snowmageddon story or a tale of Washington’s winter woes of 2010. No, it’s nothing like that. In fact, the story starts about five years ago when DC winters produced a few dustings of snow each year, and the stretch of non-federal holidays from President’s Day to Memorial Day was what we feared most in the mid-winter months before the approaching Spring. And, come to think of it, it hasn’t got much to do with the weather at all.

It’s about connections. And, of course, I am referring to the Butterfly Effect; a metaphor encapsulating the concept of sensitive dependence on initial conditions in chaos theory; namely, that small differences in the initial condition of a dynamical system may produce— Wait a second. There’s an easier way…

Just as the story in the film “Juno” “all started with a chair,” this one quite literally started with a pair of earmuffs. No, nobody got pregnant. But I did get a job — for a while.

DC is a small city. The longer you live here, the smaller it gets. I guess that’s true no matter we live. We meet and interact with people every day and sometimes those interactions and connections trigger an odd series of events. I started taking the bus to work on a regular basis after moving to Bethesda in 2003. I picked it up directly behind my apartment building, and it dropped me off on K St. just a block from my office. It couldn’t have been easier. And the route down MacArthur Boulevard through the Palisades neighbor of DC was just off the beaten path enough that I actually enjoyed the commute.

And when you take the same route at pretty much the same time five days a week, eventually you might even become friendly with a few of the regular passengers.

I enjoyed that part of it, too. Just ask any of my “bus friends.”

But Washingtonians know that striking up a random conversation with a fellow commuter is not always welcome. You need a reason.

This is what happened when one fellow D5 rider (Mr. A.) dropped his earmuffs as he exited one night, and I happened to pick them up.

The earmuff exchange became my reason and eventually led to the fully established bus-friendship with Mr. A. Then, a short time later, he was looking for someone to fill a vacant position in his firm and asked if I knew of anyone — which I did. I gave his card to my friend and co-worker, Ms. B., whom I knew was looking. And, not surprisingly, she got the job!

Once comfortable in the position, she recruited Mr. C. from the association from whence she came. (OK, sure, my meddling was creating a minor exodus from the association but, hey, when you need to move on you move on. But I digress.)

Fast forward a couple years when Ms. B. left the firm; Mr. C. then called upon his friend and former colleague Mr. D. to take her place. Mr. D. also happened to be a friend and former colleague of mine. (Foreshadowing!)

During this time, I was laid off from the association. I spent most of 2008 consulting and getting some short-term freelance contracts and, luckily, stayed very busy. Then, just as a current contract of mine was ending back in January 2009, I got an email from Mr. D., who was looking for a freelancer. I started working with him two weeks later.

And, after a few months and a little reorganizing, I was hired full-time. Connection complete!

Now, as 2010 begins, I’m cherishing the connections that will help me grow in new directions while, at the same time, allowing me to help others find new opportunities, too.

And, yes, I recognize that the Earmuff Effect has changed dramatically. In 2003, the only example of “social media” was when you let your friend borrow your iPod. Now we are Linked and we Follow and we Friend. Nouns have become verbs — that alone is enough to make my head spin.

But as much as the Internet is really helping to expand communities and help people find jobs, I say let’s never lose sight of the tremendous potential that personal connections can bring.

This winter is certainly trying the patience of each and everyone in Washington, so I’m not going to recommend striking up that random conversation just yet. But the snow will melt, and the commutes will get easier — and that will make us all feel a little friendlier.

Until then, we could just blame the butterfly.