Whether we encourage Bob to jump in a lake or to take his kids on that family hike he promised them ten years ago, walking can remind Bob of his strong childhood connection to nature. It can ease his mind about Mary and her Pinterest obsession. It can even lower his blood pressure.

Where to go: Rice Lake Loop | How to get there: Drive. | Bob: “This isn’t a lake, it’s a pond!”

Enter a moss-covered forest under a glossy green canopy of Douglas Fir, Western Hemlock, Red Cedar and Sitka Spruce. At the edge of Lynn Headwaters Regional Park is an easy one-hour hike around Rice Lake. Wander, fish or sit for awhile on one of many secluded lakeside benches.

This North Vancouver hiking trail doesn’t allow dogs, but that’s OK. Bob doesn’t like dogs.

Where to go: Stanley Park | How to get there: Bus #19. | Bob: “There’s a bum in that tree!”

While this network of hiking trails is a part of the tourist-filled park in the middle of Vancouver, it remains a nature-filled getaway from the office for many lunch hour hikers and weekend cyclists. Bob can hike through the forest to Beaver Lake or follow the Sea Wall for nearly three hours.

Where to go: Pacific Spirit Park | How to get there: Bus #25. | Bob: “My ex wore lululemon!”

Within more than 750 hectars of lush green forest is a 10 kilometre network of hiking trails that’ll keep Bob busy for up to three hours, which just might give Mary enough time to get that online video made without him hovering over her shoulder, going on about paid search.

Bob may be bullish sometimes, but we must look out for him. Together, especially after his hike, we may be able to finally convince him of the amazing power of rich content marketing, especially after Mary’s online video gets 11,834 views and a dozen insightful comments.

Keep walking. Keep talking. That’ll make sure we all stay fiercely committed to the right path.

Early in my life, long before bike lanes and overpriced organic celery, I have this goal: I want to live in a progressive, centralized and open-hearted community. There I would walk to work, catch the bus to the market and, if it’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and the streets are quiet, bike to the library—all without the loud man in camouflage, yelling from his truck: “Hey drunk, did you lose your license?” I haven’t. I don’t drive because I’m visually impaired…in rural North Carolina.

Neither this man nor the family in the engine-revving minivan behind him will know my story. We don’t work together, shop together or read together. I assume they’re rednecks. They see me as a nuisance on their way back to the church parking lot, perhaps, shimmering with trucks and minivans. Inside, single-minded ideology is handed down like heirlooms. They repent their sins. I read Sedaris. They drive. I walk. They yell. I talk. The older I get, the more I don’t fit in.

At 23, I leave the sidewalk memorials and the religious right against left to find that perfect city in my mind. I travel throughout North America. I eventually decide to settle in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, where sidewalks are often wider than streets and farmer’s markets aren’t hidden beyond the bus loop. The weather is surprisingly warm. The people are polite without smirking “Yes ma’am” or “No sir.” I spend the next few years filing paperwork. I attend school. I marry. I find work. I start a family. Finally in 2009, I become a Canadian citizen.

For me the biggest thing to get used to isn’t “Toboggan is a sled, not a hat.” It isn’t Celsius. Plus I don’t mind the rain. It’s the fact that people here have a tendency to treat each other well. We don’t yell at people on the sidewalk (Here, people on the sidewalk often outnumber people in vehicles.). When I interview for contract work, I disclose that I’m visually impaired (I’m different.). Back in NC, I’d get the stink eye. Here, they shrug their shoulders and come right out to ask, “How does that affect your work?” It never does. I often get to prove it without “EOE.”

Vancouver isn’t perfect, but I know that it’s the best city in North America for me. What makes it work? Mindful urban planning. Progressive thinkers, movers and shakers. Diversity. Most importantly, I believe Vancouver works because all people are invited to come together in celebration of cultural diversity. Surrey Vaisakhi Parade. Vancouver Pride Parade and Festival. Thriving community centres. Farmer’s markets in every neighbourhood. Runs. Walks. Street food. Outdoor Movie Night in Yaletown. What brings us together seems to bring us closer.

Back in North Carolina, and in places throughout the U.S., many are encouraged to celebrate common heritage. With flags waving and Bibles all a-thump, they seem to value sameness above diversity. Many become unable to see someone who’s perceived as different as an acceptable part of their world. That ignorant bliss boils over onto ballots as fundamental pews hold fear-mongering voters. Leviticus 19 and other texts are forgotten by sameness minutia.

How does any group, family or individual learn to accept other people in their community? Zach Wahls, the young activist who gave a stirring Iowa House speech and just published My Two Moms, has an excellent idea: “This week marks the soft launch of the Out to Dinner project, an initiative aiming to bridge the gap between LGBT Americans and those still on the fence when it comes to matters of LGBT rights by bringing them together to share a meal.” —Out to Dinner

I married the one I love. We’ll celebrate another anniversary soon. It’s unfortunate LGBT people in most North American communities can’t celebrate their love or gain access to basic partner rights. After Amendment One passed on Tuesday, I’m truly ashamed to be from North Carolina.

Likewise, the number of good writers seems to be dropping. Oil spills, climate change and big fisheries don’t cause the careful among us to disappear. It’s missed typos that force our brains to either adapt or die while ringing up reward points in our ill-fitting Chapters Indigo aprons.

Online writing business owner Kari DePhillips, a good writer, appears on CNN this morning to discuss the typos she receives from writing job seekers. Her business, The Content Factory, is erroneously renamed “The Contact Factory” by CNN’s top-ban ticker editor. But this pales in comparison to one CNN editor’s August 2010 headline: “Fight Over NY Mosque Shits to DC.”

I make typos, too. Whenever I write SEO copy for my New Jersey-based client, I type “Jew Nersey” at some point during the first draft. Thankfully, I catch it. Otherwise, Rabbi Shmuley might be someone else’s client. Whether we’re pro or novice writers, we all make mistakes.

How does this happen? Tweeting unemployed copy editors and surly 6th grade typing teachers agree: we’re not paying attention. My take? The killer is time. How much time do you allow for well-proofed text? Seconds? Minutes? Good writers can spend hours editing for the perfect line.

Pressed for time, how can you halt your extinction? Avoid distractions. Read it aloud. Now backwards. And then find out how a flightless bird swims. Can penguins teach us how to adapt?

Sadly, no. But they’re real cute. Breathe. You’ll be back at it again soon…or at the bookstore.

We both love what we do. It’s often difficult to pull ourselves away from the work. Lunches are skipped. Walks are forgotten. Expos are missed. Then vacation days are lost. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor and Statistics, about 574 million vacation days go unused by American workers each year. Dissuaded by client demands and giving advanced notice, we press on.

Are we a part of the third of Canadians who identify as workaholics? Perhaps. According to a report on Canadian Social Trends from Statistics Canada, workaholics isolate themselves and worry too much. Not a surprise. Only a small number hopes to change. We want to be a part of that subgroup. We want to improve our quality of life and savour unruly breaks from routine.

By 1 p.m. on May 11, we’ll sit, stare at each other and enjoy a text- and toddler-free meal at Cardero’s in Coal Harbour as our kid likely insists on petting the terrified goldfish at daycare. After that, we’ll wander up the seawall, past the grassy rooftops to the eco-friendly centre.

We’ll complete our skip day at EPIC Expo, the sustainability lifestyle event that’ll add green to our grids and offer better solutions for daily living. We want to learn about urban farming.

As a social writer, I engage people. If they’re funny, I re-Tweet them. If they’re insightful, I like their posts. I share. I vlog. In return, I often receive glowing posts from Mom.

This online activity earns a Klout score. Mine is 46. While 46 may be failure on a math test, it’s 26 points less than the King of All Media and 26 points more than Tweets-to-himself.

In its assessment, Klout catches me off guard: “You influence [your mother].” At first, a little embarrassed, I wonder if anyone else can see this. They can/not. Mom digs my writing. The Web is her fridge door. But why is it such a big deal?

MyParentsJoinedFacebook.com shows how awkward it can get. My mom was an entrepreneur. Yes, her feedback is valuable. Except, perhaps, replies to social networking ranking.

“I’ve always believed in you,” she writes in her follow-up comment. “You can do anything you set your mind to do. If clout is what you need, then go out and get some.”

How do you feel about the folks in your network?

I witness a horrific thing. At the corner of Hamilton and Nelson in Vancouver, a woman ignores the orange hand and crosses Hamilton to meet the grill of a car forced to complete a right turn. She falls, jumps up and stumbles away. The driver looks distracted by his low Klout score.

This happens often, I’m sure, especially when both rushed texting pedestrian and right-on-red head nodding driver aren’t with it. What disturbs me—beyond the fact that walker and driver don’t have it out—is that no one around me reacts. I watch thumbs text and cars whisk by me.

I study the irresponsive driver and his white car with purple windows as they quickly dash around the corner. He glances back at the pedestrian, who now re-Tweets with a limp.

What’s wrong with us? We can thwart government oppression around the globe via social networking with hashtags. We like kittens and share laughing babies among friends. But something’s wrong out here. Undoubtedly, we forget how to live in the moment.

As we go on about getting engaged online and ensuring sustainable relevancy in rapidly crowding marketplaces, I fear we lose touch with our innate ability to care for what’s in front of us. Let us raise our heads and lower our ridiculously large shades. What do we feel?

Get in touch with that, and maybe it’ll be easier to relate online and react on the street.

Mobile marketing is on the rise. Copywriters, editors and search engine experts must learn to adapt. I’ve discovered and used three key elements to produce effective mobile content.

1. Mobile writing must relate. I help mobile marketing agencies, advertising campaigns and interactive teams understand and value the importance of content in context. This has always been the case, of course, but now it is more critical that I connect interface design or mobile app development with short, precise copy that speaks solely to the targeted smartphone user.

Young & Rubicam’s copy man, George Gribbin, drives this point home: “A copywriter should have an understanding of people, an insight into them, a sympathy toward them.”

2. After I find out what’s important to the people I engage, I discover how they use their smartphones to access mobile apps, location-based marketing or multimedia messages. This can be determined through account planning or by regularly communicating with interface designers. I use this to write mobile copy that targets the most predictable actions.

“Obsess over customers: when given the choice between obsessing over competitors or customers, always obsess over customers.”  –Jeff Bezos, CEO, Amazon.com

3. As I drill down to small words and short phrases—even smaller and shorter than what I use for website writing—I follow a mobile search strategy that specifically target queries made from handheld devices. Why? What we text with our thumbs is often less verbose than what we type with our keyboards. I research top mobile-only keyword search queries accordingly.

To recap, mobile writing is relevant to consumers, mindful of their preferences and reflective of mobile searches. AT&T expects mobile marketing spend to increase in 2012. Are you ready?

I work with an interactive team that plans for more mobile marketing in 2012. We’re stoked.

Headlines and heels can be sexy. They can be pointed or rounded. They can spark conversation or alienate the wrong audience. If your story has legs—or if your legs have a story—the headline one writes or heels one wears must lead the eye to it.

Did this headline grab you? Then here are three things headlines and heels share…

1. Headlines and stilettos make anyone appear taller. Ask any business exec, drag queen or web maven, and s/he’ll tell you, especially if s/he’s drunk at a Vancouver meetup: “They help me tower over my self-esteem issues…or poorly written LinkedIn bio.”
2. High heels and headlines both pop in red. Christian Louboutin, Santa Claus and even Yves Saint Laurent feel they’re the sole proprietors of red. Direct response writers employ red every time they want to wake us up. The Sun (UK) sports a red masthead.
3. No matter how much headlines or high heels may hurt, they work. The Independent (UK) once headlined with: “Africans are less intelligent than Westerners, says DNA pioneer.” J. Edgar Hoover likely had a lot of blisters, but I’ll bet he didn’t mind at all.

Beyond these characteristics, headlines and heels also serve a common purpose.

These attention-getting things must make a statement that compels their respective audience—either readers or fetishists—to continue, whether that’s up the legs to find beautiful haute couture or down the lines of a beautifully written story.

Do your headlines turn heads? If not, fire your writer.

I open a web application form, which contains fields for input, not a model for software. Fields? Kate Moss? I know, right? The form’s creators embrace cultural diversity. They critically examine social exclusion, but this text appears at the First Name field: “Please, no foreign characters.”

It takes one long second before I get it: Please use English only. I’m blonde, OK? But still…

The key to eradicating ambiguity is to pair precise copy with foolproof setting. An open-door policy provides just enough shtick for Bob’s fun-filled locksmithing biz, but it might suck out the pilot of the space station or rudely interrupt the marriage counsellor in a one-on-one session.

If you don’t match content with context, you may have a PPC ad, a blog post or a web page that reads ridiculously funny to some and awfully confusing to the rest of us.

• I posted more pictures of my adorable toddler to Facebook in the hopes of finally convincing the few high school friends I had that I’m still, indeed, a really awesome guy.
• Google Analytics and Webmaster Tools now track the impact of social media activities. Mashable’s Ben Parr strings together keywords on Google Analytics Social Plugin.
• @KupofExcellence Tweets something in French about “Facebook,” “cafés” and “photos.” 694 Anglo followers stick around to celebrate Canadian coffee culture, anyways.
• As Vancouver takes to social media to identify Stanley Cup rioters, one UBC undergraduate student goes on about “a culture of mass surveillance” in her 827-word essay.
• Both @Steaz and @WhitefishGroup still politely ask us to drink “the best tasting organic and fair trade beverages on the planet.” It’s hot outside, so please drink it…
• MySpace.com has been sold to an ad network for a mere $35 million. Justin Timberlake will manage its creative direction. WSJ.com writer Tom Loftus carries on about it.
• It’s my mother’s birthday. While she forgot both her laptop and her iPad, 13 Facebook friends (and counting) have already posted best wishes on her sunny day. Go Mom!
• Google+ pre-launch invites were halted after just a few hours, but that didn’t stop Alfredo Perez from giving the new social networking platform the finger in his video debut.

Want to celebrate? Find a Mashable Meetup near you.