SO … MUCH … JOY!

My wife came home from Trader Joe’s the other day with four individually wrapped rolls of toilet paper.

TP wasn’t on the shopping list. But there it was at TJ’s — a giant stack next to the cleaning supplies aisle.

A worker told her that the collapse of travel due to COVID-19 had left a national hotel chain sitting on a massive inventory of toilet paper rolls. So Trader Joe’s bought it up and sent it out to stores.

We’re well-stocked on TP at Casa Whitmire right now, but Sarah was so delighted by this discovery that she bought four rolls.

Now, you probably don’t need me to tell you that Trader Joe’s is a well-run enterprise with decades of experience in flexibility and adaptation. Only a couple of years ago, Freakonomics author and podcaster Stephen Dubner posed the (not unreasonable) question of whether TJ’s should be running the country.

But it’s a reminder: More than at any point in living memory, we are seeing a real-time demonstration of the value of authentic adaptation.

Tony Mecia is a friend, CXN client, and former colleague from my days as a journalist. A little more than a year ago, he launched a 3-times-weekly email newsletter covering business in the Charlotte area, The Charlotte Ledger.

Tony was just transitioning to a paywall for the newsletter and signing up his inaugural round of paid subscribers when the pandemic hit with full force. He doubled down on his budget for freelance writers, tapped into his network of former Charlotte Observer colleagues, and has been publishing 7 days a week since mid-March.

While other local outlets focus on covering the obvious (like daily counts of cases and deaths), Tony and his writers have dug deeper with stories on how local hospitals are preparing, how seniors at Davidson experienced the abrupt end of their college experience, and the Zoom-ification of social life.

And as journalism outlets across the country make layoffs and anticipate hard times ahead, Tony recently announced his first full-time staff hire for The Ledger, managing editor Cristina Bolling.

These aren’t isolated examples. One of my favorite rock bands, The Hold Steady, saw at least 6 months of live gigs go up in smoke due to COVID-19. Now, they’re releasing recordings from their 2019 gigs every Friday on Bandcamp and donating the proceeds to staff at the idled venues where they played. 

After the initial shock of closings, a number of bars and restaurants within walking distance of my home have reopened with menus built around to-go family dinners. These aren’t the type of places that previously did business through Uber Eats or DoorDash, but they’ve adapted on the fly and are finding a way to keep feeding people in a world where public dining rooms aren’t an option.

To be clear: I’m not talking about naked opportunism here, like shuttering your avocado toast cafe to arbitrage N95 masks on eBay.

Each of these enterprises —from a famous grocery chain to a local e-journalism startup to a relatively obscure rock band — benefits from knowing its core mission and purpose and from possessing a deep connection with the audience it serves. Each is authentically adapting to the moment, finding a way to remain genuine and relevant to its audience amid changing circumstances.

Love is at the heart of this authentic adaptation. 

Love of your mission and purpose; love for the audience that finds value in your mission and purpose. 

If you have any doubt, go to Bandcamp and download this Hold Steady show from last August (throw them a couple bucks while you’re at it, if you don’t mind). Listen to lead singer Craig Finn perform his ritual introduction to “Killer Parties,” the song with which the band closes every show. (And be forewarned: he drops a couple f-bombs.)

I only have one more thing to say. 

You know what it is. We’re not going to be coy about this, man. We all know where this is heading …  

Maybe it would feel at its most honest if we all said it together. If we didn’t drag it out, if we just said it together right now: 

There is SO … MUCH … JOY in what we do up here. I want to thank you all for being here this weekend and tonight, to share that joy with us. 

We’re The Hold Steady, you’re Seattle, and we f—-ing love you! 

I encourage you to dig deep in this time of change.

Don't curl up in a ball, weep, and wait for it to be over.

Don't wring your hands helplessly and pray the old world returns.

Find a way to adapt authentically and serve -- with SO ... MUCH ... JOY! -- in this time and in this world as it is.