This time of year, everyone likes to engage in a ritualistic counting of blessings, and many bloggers like me try to write a meaningful piece about being thankful.
Neither of these are necessarily insincere, but both seem to smack of cliche and lack perspective from time to time.
My employer recently began accepting applications for a sales position. (If you have sales experience and could bear the thought of me as a co-worker, by all means let me know.) Filling these kinds of positions usually takes the same pattern of events: An opening announcement is made in various locations, and the resumes begin flowing. Then the screening process begins.
Our company tries to find out as much as possible about applicants seeking employment, a task made easier by this era of online profiles and internet searches. (It did with me.) Last week, our recruiter performed an internet search for one particularly promising applicant - looking for a LinkedIn profile, or the like - and was taken aback by the first story that led the search results.
It was his obituary. This young man applied at my company on Monday, and was killed in a car accident on Tuesday. He was 26 years old.
When we learned of this, a couple of my colleagues and I responded with the usual cliche, "Wow. You just don't know, do you?" It was all we could think to utter. I'm not sure why it affected me the way it did; I never knew the guy, obviously. Perhaps it was a jolt that reminded me there is much we plan in this world and much we strive for that, in the end, doesn't matter all that much compared with what we already have.
This really is not intended to be a pre-holidays guilt trip or buzz kill, but it is worth noting that many people will have trouble giving thanks at all this time of year. It will be perfectly understandable for some, like that young man's family who just eight days ago never dreamed there would be an extra spot at the Thanksgiving table. Others, it seems, may lack perspective on just what gifts they've been afforded.
Hopefully we can all gain a little perspective from the loss of a potential co-worker I never knew. The holidays bring a certain amount of "normal" stress - scheduling, traveling, entertaining, etc. - but it seems many of us have it much better than we'd like to admit. What's the point of wasting so much emotional energy over seeing family and friends, when many do not have the same number of family and friends to see?
This post may not satisfy the cliche-free criterion I was striving for, but we all need a reminder here and there of what's real and what's...real.
You feel me?
AF
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tom Brady goes to Heaven
Allow me to share a slightly embellished version of a story passed along by a business associate:
After a long and successful NFL career, and a relatively disappointing post-football stint as Mach 3 razor spokesmodel, Tom Brady passed on and went to Heaven.
At first, Tom was frightened to appear before the Heavenly Father. Had he been a good steward of his talents? Had he reached his potential?
Sensing Tom's unease, God put His arm around him. "Relax, Tom," God said. "You've done well with what I've given you. Three Super Bowls, a touchdown passing record - well done. Behold what I have for you."
God gestured over to a beautiful 2-story brick home. It had drab navy blue shudders with the trademark Patriots head engraved in them. There was a Patriots flag in a holder attached to a post on the front porch. The home was, in a word, "nice."
Satisfied, Brady walked up the sidewalk and was about to enter his new divine dwelling, when something caught his eye.
A way up the road, there stood a towering mansion of royal blue brick, easily two football fields long and seemingly almost as high. The roof's white shingles glistened, and were enhanced by the blue shingles patterned in the shape of a horseshoe. Giant white columns supported a grand portico, the top of which held several Indianapolis Colts banners, each taller than Brady's home. Out front there was a circular driveway of blue and white cobblestone around which meticulously manicured shrubs gave way to a sparkling pond. In the middle of this pond, there was a fountain in the likeness of Peyton Manning triumphantly raising the Super Bowl XLI trophy. Blue horses ran wild on the estate's ample acreage.
This vexed Brady. "God," he said, "I don't want to sound ungrateful. Peyton Manning and I are friends, after all. But I broke his passing touchdowns record and I have three Super Bowl championships, and he has only one. Shouldn't his home be smaller than mine?"
God smiled. "Tom," He said. "That's not Peyton's home. It's mine."
After a long and successful NFL career, and a relatively disappointing post-football stint as Mach 3 razor spokesmodel, Tom Brady passed on and went to Heaven.
At first, Tom was frightened to appear before the Heavenly Father. Had he been a good steward of his talents? Had he reached his potential?
Sensing Tom's unease, God put His arm around him. "Relax, Tom," God said. "You've done well with what I've given you. Three Super Bowls, a touchdown passing record - well done. Behold what I have for you."
God gestured over to a beautiful 2-story brick home. It had drab navy blue shudders with the trademark Patriots head engraved in them. There was a Patriots flag in a holder attached to a post on the front porch. The home was, in a word, "nice."
Satisfied, Brady walked up the sidewalk and was about to enter his new divine dwelling, when something caught his eye.
A way up the road, there stood a towering mansion of royal blue brick, easily two football fields long and seemingly almost as high. The roof's white shingles glistened, and were enhanced by the blue shingles patterned in the shape of a horseshoe. Giant white columns supported a grand portico, the top of which held several Indianapolis Colts banners, each taller than Brady's home. Out front there was a circular driveway of blue and white cobblestone around which meticulously manicured shrubs gave way to a sparkling pond. In the middle of this pond, there was a fountain in the likeness of Peyton Manning triumphantly raising the Super Bowl XLI trophy. Blue horses ran wild on the estate's ample acreage.
This vexed Brady. "God," he said, "I don't want to sound ungrateful. Peyton Manning and I are friends, after all. But I broke his passing touchdowns record and I have three Super Bowl championships, and he has only one. Shouldn't his home be smaller than mine?"
God smiled. "Tom," He said. "That's not Peyton's home. It's mine."
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Journalism: Another nail in the coffin
It may not be a topic with broad appeal, but from time to time I write about the state of journalism in this country. I've written here about the affects of evolving technology on the profession, and here about the bizarre agenda-setting and information-killing hysterics often readily observable from major news outlets.
Consider this your warning that if this topic does not interest you, neither will the rest of this post.
Overall, people should know I take a generally cynical view of much of the news media these days. It's half the result of working in the business for several years, and half the result of working with the business for several more. Pieces like this one should give you a clearer idea where I'm coming from.
Which leads us to this story from a Michigan paper about a man suffering electrical burns. I came across it through my work. It's not a story about a major issue of the day. It's not conspiratorial. It's not tainted with liberal bias. It is, however, almost laughably inept in its reporting. And unfortunately, probably is indicative of why so many distrust major news outlets to begin with.
The headline is clumsy, and acts as a big-time buzz kill: "Worker injured...but not seriously." Well, I'm hooked. Nothing like what sounds like little more than a stubbed toe to compel readers to dive in.
Within the first two sentences, the reporter assures us they are an authority on what happened: "His condition was unknown." Hmm. How do we know it wasn't "serious," exactly? Oh, I see: "the man was conscious and breathing." What a relief. Good thing all it takes to get a clean bill of health is the ability to demonstrate consciousness and respiration. I suppose screaming in unbearable pain would demonstrate these two things as well, but then we'd lose our catchy headline. So we move on...
Our headline gets a little messy when a fire chief explains electrical burns don't always show their extent outwardly. In the next paragraph, things get even more complicated for our optimistic headline writer: "(the incident) sent about 440 volts coursing through his (the victim's) body. He's lucky to be alive," says the fire chief. The story mercifully ends after our dutiful reporter reiterates, "the extent of the victim's injuries were unknown."
So, let's review: A man suffers electrical burns. He had 440 volts of electricity course through his body. I'm not sure how to analogize that, but I'm sure it doesn't tickle. The one expert interviewed for the story says he's lucky to be alive. The reporter admits twice they have no idea how the victim is doing. But, apparently because we know he was "conscious and breathing," we arrive at the conclusion: "Worker injured...but not seriously."
Seriously?
The problem here (well, one of the problems here) is that it's apparent this reporter was rushed to post something online or meet a deadline to print, and did not check his logic. In his defense, he's not the only one to do it, and he won't be the last. How many times have cable news channels breathlessly rushed to tell us about a breaking tragedy (Balloon Boy, anyone?), only to realize upon further inspection it wasn't as it seemed.
Journalists are admittedly in a tough spot these days: The demand for news and information is constant, and pesky things like checking facts or logic can mean losing out to a competitor. How they adapt, especially with new tools such as Twitter, et al, remains to be seen.
But here's hoping we can at least expect a little congruity between headline and body, and paragraph to paragraph.
You feel me?
AF
Consider this your warning that if this topic does not interest you, neither will the rest of this post.
Overall, people should know I take a generally cynical view of much of the news media these days. It's half the result of working in the business for several years, and half the result of working with the business for several more. Pieces like this one should give you a clearer idea where I'm coming from.
Which leads us to this story from a Michigan paper about a man suffering electrical burns. I came across it through my work. It's not a story about a major issue of the day. It's not conspiratorial. It's not tainted with liberal bias. It is, however, almost laughably inept in its reporting. And unfortunately, probably is indicative of why so many distrust major news outlets to begin with.
The headline is clumsy, and acts as a big-time buzz kill: "Worker injured...but not seriously." Well, I'm hooked. Nothing like what sounds like little more than a stubbed toe to compel readers to dive in.
Within the first two sentences, the reporter assures us they are an authority on what happened: "His condition was unknown." Hmm. How do we know it wasn't "serious," exactly? Oh, I see: "the man was conscious and breathing." What a relief. Good thing all it takes to get a clean bill of health is the ability to demonstrate consciousness and respiration. I suppose screaming in unbearable pain would demonstrate these two things as well, but then we'd lose our catchy headline. So we move on...
Our headline gets a little messy when a fire chief explains electrical burns don't always show their extent outwardly. In the next paragraph, things get even more complicated for our optimistic headline writer: "(the incident) sent about 440 volts coursing through his (the victim's) body. He's lucky to be alive," says the fire chief. The story mercifully ends after our dutiful reporter reiterates, "the extent of the victim's injuries were unknown."
So, let's review: A man suffers electrical burns. He had 440 volts of electricity course through his body. I'm not sure how to analogize that, but I'm sure it doesn't tickle. The one expert interviewed for the story says he's lucky to be alive. The reporter admits twice they have no idea how the victim is doing. But, apparently because we know he was "conscious and breathing," we arrive at the conclusion: "Worker injured...but not seriously."
Seriously?
The problem here (well, one of the problems here) is that it's apparent this reporter was rushed to post something online or meet a deadline to print, and did not check his logic. In his defense, he's not the only one to do it, and he won't be the last. How many times have cable news channels breathlessly rushed to tell us about a breaking tragedy (Balloon Boy, anyone?), only to realize upon further inspection it wasn't as it seemed.
Journalists are admittedly in a tough spot these days: The demand for news and information is constant, and pesky things like checking facts or logic can mean losing out to a competitor. How they adapt, especially with new tools such as Twitter, et al, remains to be seen.
But here's hoping we can at least expect a little congruity between headline and body, and paragraph to paragraph.
You feel me?
AF
Monday, November 2, 2009
Moving from exceptional to expected
In the past several months, I've been subject to the customer service processes of the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles, HP, and today, through my work, an Internet marketing vendor. Of the three, only the BMV provided quality customer service. In fact, it was outstanding.
With HP, you'll recall, we were asked to ignore the fact they had taken our computer in for repairs once (as per our warranty) and had failed. Then they asked us to roll the dice they could get it right with another crack at it. Today, the aforementioned marketing group tried to convince me they had fulfilled their obligations of our contract, despite the fact the clearly spelled-out 14-day timeline for completion ballooned to 53 days, and is still not completed. Obviously, I'm demanding a full refund on behalf of my company.
That only the BMV treated me with respect and dignity is important for two reasons: First, you just plain don't expect that from a BMV. Second, you just plain don't expect that anywhere, anymore. At some point, quality customer service became the exception, not the rule.
I've alluded before to the fact there is a crisis of respect in our world. That certainly enters in here, but I wonder if there's not something else in play: a crisis of entitlement.
A pervasive entitlement mentality yields pervasive bad service. The degree to which people feel they are owed their paycheck - without the due diligence to earn it - is the degree to which they will shirk their responsibilities. This is especially a problem in our nation, as we increasingly become a service-based economy. The intensity of a poor customer relations experience is magnified when the only tangible item for a problem that can be blamed is a person, not a defective inanimate object.
For what it's worth, I'm not sure the constant drumbeat from Washington about the "right" of people to obtain for free things most of us pay for is the best way to solve the problem.
What will? For starters, an increased emphasis on personal accountability and community responsibility, and a de-emphasis on the individual. Parents and teachers play a role here.
Then maybe one day we won't have to look to the BMV for a positive customer relations experience.
You feel me?
AF
No, really. You feel me? Then don't forget to vote for Feeling Fuller in the Top 50 Blogs of Indiana contest here!
With HP, you'll recall, we were asked to ignore the fact they had taken our computer in for repairs once (as per our warranty) and had failed. Then they asked us to roll the dice they could get it right with another crack at it. Today, the aforementioned marketing group tried to convince me they had fulfilled their obligations of our contract, despite the fact the clearly spelled-out 14-day timeline for completion ballooned to 53 days, and is still not completed. Obviously, I'm demanding a full refund on behalf of my company.
That only the BMV treated me with respect and dignity is important for two reasons: First, you just plain don't expect that from a BMV. Second, you just plain don't expect that anywhere, anymore. At some point, quality customer service became the exception, not the rule.
I've alluded before to the fact there is a crisis of respect in our world. That certainly enters in here, but I wonder if there's not something else in play: a crisis of entitlement.
A pervasive entitlement mentality yields pervasive bad service. The degree to which people feel they are owed their paycheck - without the due diligence to earn it - is the degree to which they will shirk their responsibilities. This is especially a problem in our nation, as we increasingly become a service-based economy. The intensity of a poor customer relations experience is magnified when the only tangible item for a problem that can be blamed is a person, not a defective inanimate object.
For what it's worth, I'm not sure the constant drumbeat from Washington about the "right" of people to obtain for free things most of us pay for is the best way to solve the problem.
What will? For starters, an increased emphasis on personal accountability and community responsibility, and a de-emphasis on the individual. Parents and teachers play a role here.
Then maybe one day we won't have to look to the BMV for a positive customer relations experience.
You feel me?
AF
No, really. You feel me? Then don't forget to vote for Feeling Fuller in the Top 50 Blogs of Indiana contest here!
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