After much deliberating, contemplation, and rigorous, painstakingly detailed analysis, I am ready to offer an opinion which may well shake you, dear reader, to your core.

Boston is just the coolest.

No, really, it is.  With respect to any other city I have ever been to in these United States, Boston is in a class of its own.  There's an energy, a vibe, to this city that is immediately apparent from the minute you start your descent into Logan.  You can feel it as you cross under the Harbor, through the North End, past the Commons and into Back Bay.  You can see it in the recklessly aggressive pedestrians strolling across six lanes of traffic as casually as if they were walking to the fridge to grab another Sam Adams.  It is lent testimony to by the embarrassment of historical riches kept alive by a fervent dedication to connect past and present.  Every corner of every street, every person who walks, jogs, or bikes down the sidewalk, every carefully planted tree or tended flower or placed work of art (aht?); all of it contributes to a sense of place, a culture that is uniquely Boston.

Months ago, when I first heard the news of the marathon bombings, I was shocked.  On the very street that I walked down months before as part of the Conference Planning Committee, a tragedy of unfathomable pain and suffering was playing out.  But, even through that tragedy, the very best of Boston (and the very best of humanity) came through.  In the seconds and minutes after the blast, ordinary people and first responders alike flooded the scene, offering whatever help they could.  In the ensuing hours, the greater Boston area went on lockdown, and citizens everywhere willingly complied.  Not out of a sense of fear, but to do whatever they could to serve and protect their community.  This is the culture of Boston.  And, as it turned out, no one would dictate their freedom.

Some months back, there was a piece written in the Harvard Business Review that concluded that the culture of an organization is so important, it even trumps strategy.  Take a second and read that sentence again.  Really... do it.  Or, in case you're not inclined, here it is again: Culture is so important, it even trumps strategy.  Unlike strategy or planning, culture cannot be made to occur through force of will or careful application of discipline.  At best, will or discipline create an environment for culture to take root.  But you can't force it to grow anymore than I could will my facial hair into a Dustin Pedroia-esque masterpiece.

So it is fitting that, as managers, we come together this year, in this city, to explore how we might grow our own cultures.  Over the next few days, we have an opportunity to take seeds of ideas home to plant in our own organizations.  These seeds might come from a great educational session, or a keynote speaker, or a bus tour or dinner reception.  They might come from a quiet conversation with an old friend or from something that almost escapes your notice as you're walking to the convention center.

A local to these parts once dreamt of putting a man on the surface of the moon.  Not because it was easy, he said, but, rather, because it was hard.  Because that goal, that crazy, out there goal, would "organize and measure the best of our energies and skills."

Friends, lay your burdens down for a few days and dream.  Think about what could be, what might be.  Remember why you got into this profession and what drives you to come back to work each morning.    Look around you, feel the weight of history and realize that anything is possible if you pursue it with passion.

And vigah.

Travel safe, have fun, and I'll see you all in New England.

-mm