Gravity Wins Again: When My Prosthetic Decided We Were Falling

Yesterday, before my recovery meeting even started, I decided to make an entrance.

Not intentionally.

I had a large Dutch Bros passion fruit soda with me. Had.

I took one step wrong with my prosthetic leg, and the prosthetic interpreted that movement as, “Oh, we're taking another step? Got it.”

Except we weren't.

The knee started to bend.

And when you're wearing an above-the-knee prosthetic, there comes a magical moment when you realize:

I'm going down.

Once the prosthetic starts bending as though I'm passing the leg through for the next step, I can't simply pull it back and say, “Never mind.”

Physics has already accepted the assignment.

So down I went.

And so did the passion fruit soda.

All. Over. The. Carpet.

My arm got a pretty impressive rug burn in the process. It was bleeding, and as you can see from the picture, it's definitely going to leave me with a little reminder of the adventure.

Fortunately, the arm really doesn't hurt that much.

My pride? That's another story.

There's something particularly humbling about falling in front of people while simultaneously launching a giant beverage across the carpet.

At least I provided the pre-meeting entertainment.

Falls with a prosthetic are interesting because sometimes there isn't much time to recover. I knew exactly what was happening as soon as that knee began bending.

My brain: We're falling.

My prosthetic: Correct.

Gravity: I got it from here.

The good news is I'm okay. The arm will heal. My pride will eventually recover.

I'm not sure about the carpet.

Day 76: Maybe I’ve Been Asking the Wrong Question

For 76 days, I've been asking some version of the same question:

Where is the detailed data?

Today, I'm changing the question.

Why advertise something as available if you're not prepared to provide it?

That's a much more interesting question.

Nextdoor published Insights articles that don't simply say, “Here's our research. Hope you enjoyed it.”

They specifically invite readers who want more to reach out.

The language is pretty clear: if you want “detailed data, additional audience segments, and strategic recommendations,” contact the person Nextdoor identifies.

So I did.

And here we are.

Day 76.

Imagine This Anywhere Else

A restaurant puts this on the menu:

“Ask your server about today's desserts.”

You ask.

The server hands you the dinner menu again.

You explain:

“No, I already read this. I'm asking about the desserts you told me to ask about.”

They hand you the dinner menu again.

You clarify exactly what you're requesting.

You point to the sentence telling you to ask.

You eventually send them a picture of the sentence.

And then...

Nothing.

At some point, you're no longer wondering what's for dessert.

You're wondering why the restaurant put the sentence on the menu.

That's essentially where I am with Nextdoor.

This Isn't Really About a Report Anymore

The research is almost secondary now.

What fascinates me is the disconnect between invitation and execution.

If an organization publicly tells people:

Contact us for X

there should probably be a process for what happens when someone actually...

contacts you for X.

Who qualifies?

What gets sent?

Is there a sales requirement?

Is it only available to advertisers?

Is there a minimum advertising spend?

Is it proprietary and unavailable to the general public?

Is there an NDA?

Is it simply not something Nextdoor wants to provide to me?

Any of those answers would at least be an answer.

And if there are conditions attached to receiving the information, why not disclose those conditions when inviting people to request it?

Maybe There's a Bigger Marketing Lesson Here

Calls to action are promises.

Download the guide.

Request a demo.

Contact us for more information.

Reach out for detailed data.

Every one of those statements creates an expectation.

Marketing gets someone through the door.

Operations determines what happens after they walk through it.

And when those two things don't connect, the customer discovers the gap.

This has become much more interesting than my original request.

I didn't have to uncover some hidden Nextdoor process.

I followed Nextdoor's own call to action.

So Day 76 Has a New Question

I'm not asking Nextdoor where the detailed data is today.

I've asked that plenty.

Instead:

Nextdoor, what is supposed to happen when someone does exactly what your marketing tells them to do?

Because I did.

And 76 days later, I'm still trying to figure it out.

Maybe the most important data I've collected during this experiment isn't contained in the reports at all.

Maybe it's the 76 days of customer experience generated while trying to obtain them.

That's becoming quite a dataset in its own right.

Day 76.

The research request continues.

But apparently, so does the research on Nextdoor.

My LinkedIn posts are the condensed version. The full continuing Nextdoor case study is at NielFlamm.com/blog.

And subscribe at NielFlamm.com to follow along.

Same Book, Different Title: From Crucial Confrontations to Crucial Accountability

I recently noticed something interesting: Crucial Confrontations and Crucial Accountability are essentially the same book. The authors changed the title, but the message remained focused on resolving violated expectations, broken commitments, and bad behavior.

The new title makes sense.

The word confrontation has developed a bad reputation. People hear it and immediately picture yelling, aggression, finger-pointing, and someone flipping a table like a reality television reunion.

But confrontation doesn’t have to be aggressive. Sometimes it simply means addressing an uncomfortable issue directly instead of pretending it didn’t happen.

And apparently, I’ve been doing a lot of confronting lately.

I’ve questioned unanswered requests, challenged inconsistent explanations, followed up when people hoped I would forget, and refused to accept silence as a satisfactory response. I’m not looking for an argument. I’m looking for answers.

That isn’t aggression. That is accountability.

That’s why the revised title works better. Accountability describes the real purpose of these conversations: identifying what was promised, explaining what actually happened, and asking what will be done about the difference.

Of course, some people would still prefer the original title—especially when they’re the ones being held accountable. Calling it a “confrontation” makes it easier to portray the person asking questions as the problem.

That can become the easy way out:

“Why are you being so confrontational?”

Translation: “Why won’t you stop asking about the thing I haven’t answered?”

Changing the language doesn’t change my approach. I will continue to ask direct questions and follow up, and I expect people and organizations to stand behind their words and actions.

Call it confrontation if you want.

I call it accountability—and I’m not allowing the easy way out.

Day 2: My Eye Has Seen Better Days 👁️

Day 2 after having the silicone oil removed from my eye, and this is what we’re working with.

As you can see from the picture, my eye is still very red and irritated. It currently looks like I either had eye surgery or seriously underestimated my opponent in a bar fight.

For the record: eye surgery.

The weirdest part remains the vision. I’m still looking through what feels like a glass of cloudy liquid, complete with a visible line that shifts as gravity does its thing.

It’s like someone installed a tiny carpenter’s level inside my eyeball, except this one is considerably less useful at hanging pictures.

Meanwhile, I’m continuing my eye drops four times a day—antibiotic plus the steroid. I have checked several times, and despite the steroids, I have not turned green, ripped my shirt off, or become the Hulk.

Disappointing.

At night, the eye guard goes back on to protect everything while it heals. Then I head back to the retina surgeon next week to see how things are progressing.

For now?

Red eye. Cloudy vision. Eye drops. Eye guard.

And apparently a front-row seat to watching gravity work from inside my own eyeball.

Day 2 of recovery continues.

Another LinkedIn “Recruiter.” Another Scam Pattern.

Apparently, my LinkedIn profile has become a magnet for people who need to work on their scam scripts.

This morning, I received a connection request from someone presenting himself as Abdulrasheed (Tirimisiyu) Adisa, a “Senior Human Resources Recruiter at Confidential.” I accepted it.

Almost immediately, he messaged me about my “career transition” and asked what types of positions I was targeting.

I told him: Director-level Learning & Development roles.

Then he asked what career level I wanted—despite my having just told him Director—and my salary expectations.

I answered: Director, minimum $180K.

Then came the familiar request:

“Kindly share your most recent resume so I can conduct a proper evaluation and present you to the hiring team.”

🚩 And here we go again.

I already suspected this was a scam very early in the conversation because I looked at his profile.

His experience shows several supposedly concurrent positions:

• Senior Human Resources Recruiter at “Confidential”

• Resume Writer and Career Coach through Fiverr and Upwork

• Career Coach at Upwork

• Career Coach at Apex Career Partner

• Headhunting through Fiverr

These positions overlap each other extensively.

Then there's an alleged Bachelor of Arts in Human Resources Management from Harvard Business School, which raised another rather large eyebrow.

So I asked a very simple question:

“Is this for a role or are you selling a service? Send the job description.”

Instead of answering the question directly, I suddenly received a list of five remote positions supposedly matching my background, along with an attached Word document.

And here's another interesting detail: the message said he would “verify current openness with each organization”after I selected the positions I wanted to pursue.

Wait.

You're recruiting me for jobs, but you haven't verified that the jobs are actually open?

🤔

I responded with one word:

“Scam.”

And wouldn't you know it?

Almost immediately, the connection disappeared. His name in my LinkedIn inbox became “LinkedIn Member.”

That was fast.

The lesson isn't that every recruiter who contacts you is a scammer. Plenty of legitimate recruiters reach out to candidates every day.

The lesson is to look before you leap.

Check the person's employment history. Look for overlapping jobs that don't make sense. Look at their education. Ask for the actual job description. Ask which company is hiring. Don't unthinkingly send your resume, personal information, or money simply because someone says they have the perfect opportunity.

And when somebody supposedly recruiting for a Director-level position can't even get your name right—his opening message said, “I hope you're doing well Alexandro”—perhaps that's another clue.

Alexandro, wherever you are, apparently we both have an exciting career opportunity.

😂

Follow along at NielFlamm.com/blog for more adventures from the increasingly bizarre world of online recruiting.