In February I visited my parents in San Diego, a city that apparently price matches with Disney World. Day one I treated myself to a mocha without looking at the menu…NINE DOLLARS!
For a mocha!
By day two, I wisened up and made the slightly longer walk to Dunkin Donuts.
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Our first Sunday there was Super Bowl weekend. Now that I’m on the West Coast, I no longer have to hustle to bed as the game ends; I have hours and hours to pour over postgame thought pieces, interviews and articles. There I was, doing that, when one headline stopped me in my tracks*
*Figure of speech. I was very much stopped already, on the couch​
Those.
Are.
Fighting.
Words.
You should know this about me:
I stand up for Megan Fox with the loyalty of a knight shielding thine king.
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You might be (you probably are) wondering why.
Is she a relative?
A friend from growing up?
Did I enjoy Jennifer’s Body?
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Nope. Nope. Nope.
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It’s just that we have the same kind of thumbs.
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[They’re really special thumbs]
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Officially called brachydactly type D, these thumbs are also known as murderer’s thumbs.
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That’s right: murderer’s thumbs.
Thumbs of a murderer.
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I guess in the 19th-century, a few famous palm readers declared that the terrible qualities of these thumbs have given people like myself and Megan Fox “passion and determination strong enough to take human life.”​
(Maybe that’s why she’s in all these horror films?)
I’ve met a handful of fellow brachydactlyists in my day. There aren’t many of us. Whenever I meet one, we react with the joy of two people who just learned they’re not so alone in the world.

me with fellow #weirdthumb Caleb Wojcik
It’s funny the little things that can bond us to a person.
Now, the point of this isn’t so much about myself or Megan Fox or how neither of us has ever won a thumb-wrestling match. The point is: when we feel connected to a person, we have their back.
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That’s why one of the items on my Speech Checklist is: through story, anecdote or example, give the audience a glimpse into your personality.
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Said differently: give the audience a reason they could be friends with you. Even if they never actually meet you.
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Tell them about your quirks. Work a favorite movie into your speech. Talk about how frustrating it is to you when ___ happens*.
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​*But for the love of all that’s good, don’t talk about traffic. Choose something semi-unique. Everyone talks about traffic​
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While it’s not the top priority on your Great Speech Checklist, it’s critical your personality – or said differently, your humanity – appears somewhere.
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Every time you do that, it gives your audience the chance to connect with you.
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The great speakers know this.
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• John Mark Comer loves to talk about Star Wars and Chemex coffee in his sermons.
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• Pat Flynn loves Back to the Future enough to make it the theme of a keynote.
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• Amy Porterfield mentions how she unironically loves Don’t Stop Believing
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• In the most popular TED talk ever, Sir Ken Robinson has a story from his son’s Nativity Play. Can’t you see someone running into him at the airport, exchanging stories about naive childhood optimism?
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Last year I worked with Chelsea Peitz on a speech that left her audience – mostly dudes – in tears. When she finished, there was a long line to speak to her.
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What did she talk about that could move an audience of men to tears? Adopting a dog.
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We always focus on the logical elements in a speech – your points, supporting points, anything tactical. Necessary. But don’t shortchange what happens when a presenter shares a small piece of themselves with their audience.
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Do that and you just might have strangers defending your honor in internet fights.
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I got you, Megan.
Grab your free Guide
Metaphorically speaking, a lot of us do the same when we start a speech: we make it all about ourselves. We read our resume to the audience.
Y’all. We don’t need to do that. At best that comes off as braggy; more likely it comes off as insecure.
Don't be that guy.