The Mysterious Disappearing LinkedIn Messages
Yesterday I mentioned that two "recruiters" contacted me on LinkedIn.
I only shared one conversation because, in this one, I asked a direct question:
"Are you filling a role or selling a resume service?"
The response was direct:
"Filling a role."
I was then asked if I'd like the job description, and I said yes. Unfortunately, I forgot to take a screenshot of that part of the conversation.
Today I went back into LinkedIn Messaging to review both conversations.
Both were gone.
Not archived. Not deleted by me. Just... gone. As if they never existed.
I'm not sure what happened or why. Maybe @LinkedIn removed the accounts. Maybe something else occurred. I don't have enough information to draw that conclusion.
What I do know is that these types of interactions seem to be becoming more common.
I'd love to see LinkedIn continue investing in stronger verification of recruiter profiles and better technology to reduce fake accounts and questionable outreach. It would help job seekers spend more time evaluating real opportunities and less time wondering whether the person on the other end is genuine.
I've been documenting these experiences, along with other observations from my job search, on my blog at NielFlamm.com/blog. I hope sharing what I encounter helps others stay informed.
Have you had recruiter messages mysteriously disappear, or experienced something similar?
Day 48: Leadership Is About People, Not Just Processes
If you're new to this saga, welcome.
I've been documenting this journey day by day at NielFlamm.com/blog.
At this point, it's honestly hard to believe this has continued for 48 days.
The original request was simple: a study from Nextdoor that I was directed to request from Jacob Chavis.
The one thing that has stood out to me recently is something I haven't seen in about a month.
There was another Nextdoor post discussing a study shortly after I made my original request.
Since then?
No mention of any study.
No mention of Jacob Chavis.
No updates.
It seems the role and these studies no longer exist.
Coincidence?
I don't know.
But it does raise questions.
Recently, I've been watching a lot of leadership content—not just best practices, but examples of what happens when someone is managing people versus truly leading them.
This video caught my attention:
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1737323883971465
The situation in the video reminded me of something important:
Leadership is revealed in moments when people are vulnerable.
That brought me back to my own story.
I've shared my journey through my amputation and the decisions I had to make during that time:
https://www.facebook.com/share/v/18MqX3rAbE/
I was trying to figure out some of the biggest decisions of my life:
Was hospice the right path?
Was amputation the right decision?
How would I navigate disability insurance?
What would my future look like?
During that period, the people at the company I worked for showed me what leadership and compassion actually look like.
They supported me.
They treated me like a person.
They didn't just see an employee or a liability.
I would recommend those people for any role, anywhere.
Because at the end of the day:
Companies don't make companies successful. People do.
Organizations may focus on policies, procedures, compliance, and protecting the business.
Those things matter.
But the people inside an organization are the ones who create the culture, serve customers, build products, and drive results.
Companies exist to create value for customers and investors.
Taking care of people is one way they get there.
That's the leadership lesson I keep coming back to.
It's not just about what leaders say.
It's about what they do when people need them.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. Leave some feedback—I’d love to hear from you.
Some People Just Don’t Give a F’!!! Twice in One Day—What Is Going On?
Is it a full moon? Did someone taint the water? Is the zombie apocalypse about to begin?
I went to see Spider— the video vlog review is coming later—and caught the first sign of civilization’s collapse in the parking lot.
I’m parked on the left, neatly between the lines. On the right is a Cadillac CT4 doing…well, you can see for yourself.
Later, I went to my local Harris Teeter to buy 85 Powerball tickets for the fraternity Powerball pool—more on that adventure later—and witnessed something even more baffling.
I drove by twice because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
An older gentleman had parked nowhere near the lines and left the hatch wide open. Look closely: nobody is inside the car. Nobody is standing nearby. Nothing. Eventually, I watched him make his way back to the vehicle on one of those electric shopping carts.
At that point, I knew the universe was trying to tell me something.
I’m buying MREs and driving to the middle of nowhere—right after I vlog about Superman, write about Nextdoor, and check the fraternity pool and my solo Powerball tickets.
Priorities, people. Priorities.
When the Story Is Bigger Than the Platform: Day 46
Today, Nextdoor Communications shared a LinkedIn post highlighting the inspiring story of a young Oakland singer and her family's fight against a rare cancer.
The news story is here:
First and foremost, my thoughts are with this young woman and her family. As someone who has faced significant health challenges myself—and continues to do so—I wouldn't wish that journey on anyone. I sincerely hope she receives the treatment, support, and strength she needs.
What caught my attention, however, was how Nextdoor framed the story.
Reading the article, Nextdoor plays a relatively small role. This is the section where the platform is mentioned:
Last week, days after learning her daughter had cancer, she took to the neighborhood social media site Nextdoor.
She admitted that she's not one to easily share about her personal life on such public platforms, but she told people about her daughter, Suede's bravery, her music, and a beautiful thing called hope.
The second paragraph also stood out because it describes Nextdoor as one of the family's "public platforms."
To me, that's the key point.
The heart of this story isn't Nextdoor.
It's a courageous young woman.
It's a family navigating an unimaginable diagnosis.
It's a community responding with compassion.
Nextdoor was simply one of several public platforms the family used to share their story. It wasn't the story itself.
That distinction matters.
Companies naturally want to highlight positive examples of their products in action. There's nothing wrong with that. But I think it's important to ensure the spotlight remains on the people whose stories are being told rather than on the platform that happened to be part of the journey.
As for Nextdoor itself, my concerns remain unchanged.
It's still Day 46.
I'm still seeking communication from Jacob Chavis regarding the study I requested.
I'm still asking questions about leadership, moderation, communication, and corporate culture.
Those questions haven't changed simply because the company shares inspiring stories.
From an investor's perspective, I also continue to watch the market closely.
Yesterday I mentioned my bearish outlook in my blog. Today, NXDR is down roughly 3.3% (about $0.075) as I'm writing this.
Markets move for many reasons, and one trading day doesn't define a company. But I continue to believe that stronger communication, greater accountability, and meaningful leadership changes would better position the company for long-term success.
Join the discussion at NielFlamm.com/blog. I'd love to hear your perspective.
#Nextdoor #NXDR #Leadership #CorporateCulture #Communication #InvestorRelations #Community #CustomerExperience #Storytelling #Shareholders
Back on Tinder... Pray for Me
Against my better judgment, I downloaded Tinder.
It's free.
My expectations? Somewhere between "maybe I'll meet someone nice" and "I'll probably be talking to a guy named Igor pretending to be Jennifer."
I matched with someone who gave me the standard:
"I'm looking for honesty, loyalty, emotional maturity..."
Sounds promising.
Then came the question:
"What is your profession?"
I decided to run a little quality assurance test.
My answer?
"I sell heroin. Not on a corner... I'm a cartel leader."
It was obviously a joke.
I figured one of three things would happen:
She'd unmatch me immediately.
She'd laugh.
She'd call the DEA.
Instead...
Nothing.
No "Seriously?"
No "That's not funny."
No "You're weird."
Just... nothing.
I'm beginning to think the bots don't have a sense of humor.
At this rate, I'll probably delete Tinder before it figures out whether I'm Pablo Escobar or just a bald guy with a prosthetic leg who likes Coke Zero and movie theaters.
So, serious question...
How do people over 50 actually meet now?
Asking for a friend.
The friend is me.