I made it almost the whole way through. Christmas was in sight and I'd managed to keep my spirits genial and bright throughout the season, no matter how much repetitive Christmas music I heard on the radio, no matter how disgruntled my family became, no matter how much extra work I was doing. I was surprisingly relaxed and of good cheer.
Then I went to The Whole Foods.
Just by itself, that isn't a bad thing. I've been shopping at my local store since it opened and I've been there around the holidays, so I pretty much know what to expect: a crowd of holier-than-thou entitled patrons short on patience and long on sharing their opinions. What I didn't expect was the employees at the bakery counter, and their attitude. They ignored me first, then walked away from me to complain amongst themselves about how my daughter had put her hand on the counter, then came back to the counter and treated me as if I were holding them up from more important things.
I've worked retail Christmases in the wine trade and the book trade and I never, ever, treated a customer the way those two men treated me. I know how bad it can be on the other side of the cash register but I also know that no matter what, you never lose your cool with a customer and the customer is always right. Every other store employee was courteous and helpful. Add to that the fact that the bakers' behavior was nonsensical: if they wanted us gone so badly, then ignoring us wasn't going to make that happen; my need for bread wasn't going to evaporate just because these guys were inconvenienced.
I tried to make sense of this experience on the way home through the cluster-bomb of holiday traffic. What, exactly, was their problem? Had I somehow done something to bring on this reaction? Was there a way to rationalize this all with the holiday season? Where exactly, does it fit, with the message of Christmas?
For me, the over-riding through-line of religion is: don't make someone else's life worse for having met you. So, these guys clearly weren't with my program. Rather, they were of the bitter retail school where they're too good to be doing their job, they're meant for better things, and the customer is always an inconvenience. As I drifted to the checkout line and out into the night, I wondered how out of touch that attitude is in a country with unemployment at the current rates.
The next day, I realized something, though. I had restrained myself at the store. I hadn't stomped off to demand to see the manager and demanded apologies or tried to somehow dump back on the bakery guys. Although they had shown me none of the holiday message, my Christmas spirit was actually intact.
Good luck keeping your balance through the season.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
A Little Thanks
In the few hours before it's officially Thanksgiving here in America, I'm trying to engage my personal attitude adjustment function. You know, that little mental switch you make to allow just a little decompression from work, family, politics, and every other stress factor I seem to carry in the tendons of my neck.
I'm usually only moderately successful at relaxing, so my mental switch is actually the size of that circuit breaker in Jurassic Park. I am making an effort, though, because no mater how trite it sounds, it's good to step back a little from your own life and count the blessings.
Don't get me wrong. Everyone has struggles, some more profound than others. I've got my share, but they'll still be there after the holiday, so I'm making the attempt to focus on the good stuff for the immediate days ahead. I'm as guilty as everyone else of taking some basic things for granted and perhaps I've got to be working harder on being thankful. I've got a family, a job, a place to live. The number of people I've helped in life is larger than the number of people I've harmed. I've got some really good friends.
While it's probably part of human nature to constantly strive for more of everything (probably a throwback to times when basic resources were scarce), it's worthwhile to take a look at just what we have. I have many things. I am blessed. I hope you can feel the same way.
Happy Thanksgiving.
I'm usually only moderately successful at relaxing, so my mental switch is actually the size of that circuit breaker in Jurassic Park. I am making an effort, though, because no mater how trite it sounds, it's good to step back a little from your own life and count the blessings.
Don't get me wrong. Everyone has struggles, some more profound than others. I've got my share, but they'll still be there after the holiday, so I'm making the attempt to focus on the good stuff for the immediate days ahead. I'm as guilty as everyone else of taking some basic things for granted and perhaps I've got to be working harder on being thankful. I've got a family, a job, a place to live. The number of people I've helped in life is larger than the number of people I've harmed. I've got some really good friends.
While it's probably part of human nature to constantly strive for more of everything (probably a throwback to times when basic resources were scarce), it's worthwhile to take a look at just what we have. I have many things. I am blessed. I hope you can feel the same way.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Post Season
Wait, wait, what? There's still post-season baseball going on? But the two best teams in baseball are done, so that doesn't make any sense. What do you mean there's port-season baseball?
What it means is that there were a couple of young, hungry teams, who played as if every single out were an elimination out, and they proved that a lot of heart can overcome staunch professionalism and experience. The Phillies (I'm not going to talk about the Yankees, because they are beneath contempt, and there's no shortage of New Yorkers to do their post-mortem) spent a season doggedly pursuing their only stated goal: the World Series. Despite injuries, a shallow bullpen, and odd managing choices, the Phillies did what they needed to do: win 2 out of 3 games, over the course of 162 games. They did it professionally, which is to say, like any good businessmen, they put on their suits, they clocked in, and did what they were supposed to. But... oh, but for that one big question...
Were their hearts in it?
It sure didn't seem that way for most of the season. When mid-season trade Hunter Pence is the only guy looking like he's having any fun, that should be a signal to the manager that something's wrong. The team has now morphed into a group of paycheck players who have been hired to win a world championship, and every move the "employees" make seems to have that unspoken job performance rating attached: if I don't win will I be playing for the Phillies next year? When you're worried more about what you stand to lose than what you stand to gain, you're never going to beat the teams that play like they have nothing to lose.
Worse yet, you're not going to have any fun.
It's tiring watching a group of overpaid guys play a game -- a sporting game, but a game nonetheless -- and have them wear their grim professionalism ALL THE TIME. Why? What's to be grumpy about? They are the few, the chosen ones for whom genetics and circumstances have allowed a perpetual childhood playing America's greatest game, and they're unhappy? If your heart's not in it, if every game isn't the World Series and a sandlot game combined in your head, then it's time to walk off the field.
As the Phillies endure the long, cold winter, and shuffle the chips around in search of the dynasty that almost was, they need to consider that fun is what it's really supposed to be about. The fans don't want to see emotionless robots on the field, we want to see a team. And when it costs over $100 for a family to go see a game, even in the cheap seats, you owe us not just a team that's playing the odds over the 162-game spread, but a team that plays as if every game is the last, with the joy and fierceness of champions.
It is, after all, baseball.
What it means is that there were a couple of young, hungry teams, who played as if every single out were an elimination out, and they proved that a lot of heart can overcome staunch professionalism and experience. The Phillies (I'm not going to talk about the Yankees, because they are beneath contempt, and there's no shortage of New Yorkers to do their post-mortem) spent a season doggedly pursuing their only stated goal: the World Series. Despite injuries, a shallow bullpen, and odd managing choices, the Phillies did what they needed to do: win 2 out of 3 games, over the course of 162 games. They did it professionally, which is to say, like any good businessmen, they put on their suits, they clocked in, and did what they were supposed to. But... oh, but for that one big question...
Were their hearts in it?
It sure didn't seem that way for most of the season. When mid-season trade Hunter Pence is the only guy looking like he's having any fun, that should be a signal to the manager that something's wrong. The team has now morphed into a group of paycheck players who have been hired to win a world championship, and every move the "employees" make seems to have that unspoken job performance rating attached: if I don't win will I be playing for the Phillies next year? When you're worried more about what you stand to lose than what you stand to gain, you're never going to beat the teams that play like they have nothing to lose.
Worse yet, you're not going to have any fun.
It's tiring watching a group of overpaid guys play a game -- a sporting game, but a game nonetheless -- and have them wear their grim professionalism ALL THE TIME. Why? What's to be grumpy about? They are the few, the chosen ones for whom genetics and circumstances have allowed a perpetual childhood playing America's greatest game, and they're unhappy? If your heart's not in it, if every game isn't the World Series and a sandlot game combined in your head, then it's time to walk off the field.
As the Phillies endure the long, cold winter, and shuffle the chips around in search of the dynasty that almost was, they need to consider that fun is what it's really supposed to be about. The fans don't want to see emotionless robots on the field, we want to see a team. And when it costs over $100 for a family to go see a game, even in the cheap seats, you owe us not just a team that's playing the odds over the 162-game spread, but a team that plays as if every game is the last, with the joy and fierceness of champions.
It is, after all, baseball.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Hunkering Down
As hurricane Irene lumbers its way towards landfall on the US Eastern seaboard, it seems the news media has created its own perfect storm event. The media, in all their glory, likes nothing better than an impending disaster. At this point, they can indulge in all the "worst case scenario" hypothetical animations they want, with none of the actual damage having taken place. All the shrill fear-mongering, with none of the price of actual damage and bodies. These major storm events are a bonanza for the news/entertainment industry, because, if everything goes as they predict, they get to double-dip: they have material to report now, in the run-up, but they can also report on the disaster -- should it happen -- for a good long time.
All the screenwriters out there should also take note of the coverage, because one of the keys to making all thins non-stop storm coverage work is the ability to track the storm in real time and give you "landfall" estimates. That's what we call a ticking clock, and every media outlet makes use of them in this type of event, despite the notorious inaccuracy of meteorologic forecasting. That ticking clock gives you a built-in window, a race against time to get prepared for the storm. That creates tension and makes for good viewing.
I know this sounds cynical, but...
I caught a rumor on the net this morning that the township adjacent to mine is recommending residents re-locate during the storm. That seems more like panic to me than prudent storm preparedness. In our Philadelphia Western Suburbs, we're a good 40-50 miles from the coast, it's unlikely that the storm will be hurricane strength by the time it gets here, and it's 36 hours away (at least). This kind of hysteria is generated by a 24/7 media looking to fill the endless hours of broadcasting, and a public with unlimited access to information feeds that do little more than churn the same statistics for hours on end. As imminent as the threat is, there's been plenty of warning, and the storm is only moving at 14 MPH. We know it's coming and events aren't developing that quickly.
Now, pay attention here: I AM NOT advocating you don't evacuate when you're told to, nor am I saying you shouldn't take the storm threat seriously. You may, however, want to take the media a little less seriously.
All the screenwriters out there should also take note of the coverage, because one of the keys to making all thins non-stop storm coverage work is the ability to track the storm in real time and give you "landfall" estimates. That's what we call a ticking clock, and every media outlet makes use of them in this type of event, despite the notorious inaccuracy of meteorologic forecasting. That ticking clock gives you a built-in window, a race against time to get prepared for the storm. That creates tension and makes for good viewing.
I know this sounds cynical, but...
I caught a rumor on the net this morning that the township adjacent to mine is recommending residents re-locate during the storm. That seems more like panic to me than prudent storm preparedness. In our Philadelphia Western Suburbs, we're a good 40-50 miles from the coast, it's unlikely that the storm will be hurricane strength by the time it gets here, and it's 36 hours away (at least). This kind of hysteria is generated by a 24/7 media looking to fill the endless hours of broadcasting, and a public with unlimited access to information feeds that do little more than churn the same statistics for hours on end. As imminent as the threat is, there's been plenty of warning, and the storm is only moving at 14 MPH. We know it's coming and events aren't developing that quickly.
Now, pay attention here: I AM NOT advocating you don't evacuate when you're told to, nor am I saying you shouldn't take the storm threat seriously. You may, however, want to take the media a little less seriously.
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