alumni profiles

Jay Magee passes down advice:
‘Keep it Simple, Stupid!’

by Jay Magee, PR 1997

Jay Magee at work

Editor’s Note: We invited “unemployed” Jay Magee to write this story back in November—anticipating a happy ending. He lives in Jacksonville.

A month after Sept. 11th went down, so did my job. Some call it “rightsizing.” And I completely agree.

You say nonsense? And why wouldn’t you? A job is prestige, food on the table, a shirt on your back and a good pair of designer somethings. It makes you feel valuable, like you fit neatly into the machinery of society. And it fills your day with stability, and don’t we all crave that?

I craved that, too – a corporate marketing and PR role with one of the world’s software leaders – until Oct. 11.

That next day, Columbus Day, I, too, shoved off into unknown waters – of unemployment – for the first time since leaving Gainesville. My position eliminated, I began a three-month journey, not as a laptop-toting, extended-day-staying indentured servant, but as a free man. Or a statistic.

For the first time, my next career/life move wasn’t some prescribed dogma offered by parents, educators, mentors or little-old-lady Publix cashiers. It was all up to me now. After four-and-a-half years of honing my corporate face, the mask came off (confiscated by Facilities, actually).

Who was the real Jay? Sadly, I’d forgotten.

While scrambling up the corporate marketing mountain, I’d somehow forsaken the first principle I picked up … after the syllabus … in my Intro to PR class with Professor Hon back in 1995. And that is KISS – Keep It Simple, Stupid!

Do you remember it? Vaguely? It applies not only to writing, as I believe was the original intent, but in appreciating the simple things in life that slide between the cracks in the home-office credenza (aka: couch).

Released from my three-hour conference calls and late-night data sheet edits, I learned to read again. And not just Fast Company or Newsweek (although very important parts of the collection). Harry Potter and Chicken Soup soon occupied my All-Hallowed Reading Pile. Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki was another.

I learned to reach out to my real friends – late-night phone calls, impromptu lunches and emails longer than my thumbnail. And no, reach-out reminders weren’t scrawled out on a post-it note and affixed to the tip of my nose, as was my custom. Spontaneity ruled the day, and reaching out to people was a new sensation. For once, I had the time to think about them.

This philosophy carried over into my new job with Community Hospice of Northeast Florida, which I took up Jan. 28. Hospice stresses a celebration of life and relationships over death … and balance sheets.

Out of tragedy comes reflection, rebuilding and rejoice. Sept. 11th brought all three to my life. But tragedy doesn’t have to be the trigger. Be proactive and schedule time (in your Palm Pilot, of course) to be spontaneous – those suits hate that. Dump that mission statement – listen to your own values, if only for a long weekend.

Keep it simple, and you may be right-sized, too.