This is what happened after Warren Buffett’s son Peter commented on a story I wrote about Warren Buffett’s son Peter.
So, uh, that happened.
I was bored out of my ever loving mind. “I’d rather claw out my own eyeballs with my fingernails” kind of bored.
Sitting in an afternoon meeting, listening to someone read words off of a Powerpoint slide. Words about production schedules and recovery plans and risk mitigation. I silently wondered about how to mitigate risk of death by slide deck.
Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I snuck a peak at my Medium stats. I’d written an article a couple of days prior, and it had been published in The Mission. It was doing fine, but not great. The article was based on a story I’d read about Warren Buffett’s son Peter, and how he’d given up a fortune in Berkshire Hathaway stock to pursue his first love — music.
Right about slide 57 is when I saw it — the notification that Peter Buffett had left a comment.
Instantly skeptical, my heart started to race anyway. What in the world was happening? I read the comment. It was very genuine, and very humble. It included a reference to Warren Buffett, mentioned as “my dad.” The picture looked like what I imagined Peter Buffett would look like, so I googled him. Yep. The picture was him.
Slide 63 clicked past. I’d been paying exactly zero attention previously. I was paying less now.
I started wondering which prankster buddy had gone to all of this trouble. There were a couple who would go to such lengths. This had taken work. A quick scroll through Google Images, and the exact picture used in this so-called Peter Buffett’s Medium profile was nowhere to be found. I let a small part of my brain start to believe that maybe Peter Buffett, Warren Buffett’s freaking kid for crying out loud, had actually read and commented on a story I’d written about Peter Buffett, Warren Buffett’s freaking kid.
Slide 68.
I frantically re-read the story, terrified. What in the world had I written? What if something I’d written was inaccurate? Or, worse yet, offensive?
Slide 73.
Whew… it was ok. Well, sort of. There was one paragraph that bothered me. Kind of embarrassed me, actually. That is, if the Peter Buffett that read and commented was the actual Peter Buffett I was writing about.
After several years of struggle, Peter found his niche — writing songs for movies and television. He went on to moderate success and a very comfortable living as a musician.
Here I was, middle aged, balding, carrying about 15 extra pounds, 8-to-5 desk job making a reasonably comfortable living in middle America. Getting my kicks posting an occasional article on Medium, and then checking my stats hoping a few hundred people will see it. Maybe I’ll get 100 readers to clap.
And I had the audacity to refer to an Emmy-winning musician as moderately successful. Sure, compared with Taylor Swift, moderately successful. Compared with the bozo who wrote the article, wildly successful beyond reason.
I felt sheepish. And embarrassed. I clicked the “Edit” button in the post and deleted the word “moderate.” I re-read the sentence.
After several years of struggle, Peter found his niche — writing songs for movies and television. He went on to success and a very comfortable living as a musician.
It was ok, but that last sentence was missing a couple of beats. It’d have to do. I felt better.
I also noticed that Peter Buffett had highlighted a passage.
Maybe the point isn’t the final destination. Maybe it’s the journey — the journey inside ourselves to find purpose and meaning. The journey to self worth.
I liked that passage. Apparently Peter Buffett did too. It seemed like a very Peter Buffett kind of highlight.
Slide 77.
I wrote about the situation that night on Facebook. Both friends who I’d thought could be behind the elaborate hoax commented on how cool the whole thing was. If they really were behind it, this was getting to be just plain cruel. And they weren’t those kind of friends — no way they’d let it go on this long.
I was convinced. Peter Buffett — Warren’s kid — really had commented on the story I’d written about him.
I learned some things from this experience. Things that I’m sure a whole lot of writers much craftier, much more eloquent, and much more serious about writing than me have learned.
Words matter. All of them. Every. Single. One.
And the internet has shrunk the world. I knew this already. Theoretically anyway. Now I really knew it.
And anyone might read anything you’ve written. Anyone. Anything. Maybe even the dude you wrote the article about.
I’m more careful now. I think about every word. I think about who might read what I’ve written. I think about whether or not I’d be proud of what I’d written if the people I’d written about were to read it.
I think about whether or not there’s a word I’d want to go back and delete.
I think it’s made me better.
I love to write. Maybe even more than that, I love coaching other writers. For accountability coaching, feedback, or just to connect with another writer for someone to bounce ideas off of, you can find me here: http://bit.ly/2i2R7nv. Use the promo code CHRIS11873WEEK for a free week of online coaching with me or any of the other great coaches you can find at coach.me.
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