I’m going to take a wild guess that this has happened to you before. Not only that, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb if I suggest you’ve done this before yourself. Most of us have. Here’s the situation: I gave a speech at a Rotary function. As will happen in local business meetings, I met a guy I knew by sight as the manager of the local supermarket. We had a brief and amiable chat.
After having been introduced to each other, when I saw him in the store we would shake hands and exchange pleasantries. We did that for a few weeks. Then we simply waved when we spotted each other. Gradually we only made eye contact as a way of acknowledging each other. Of course the final step was to ignore each other, acting as if we had never met.
What’s up with that? It wasn’t his fault and it certainly wasn’t mine. We just did it. Or should I say didn’t? Now when I see him I can’t help but wonder if he decided I wasn’t someone he needed to know now or for future reference. In other words maybe he decided I wasn’t important enough or interesting enough to even say hello. Of course that’s a two way street. He might be wondering the same thing about me.
Admit it. You’ve had that experience. After having been known you were gradually relegated to stranger status. Why do human beings behave like that? How could a simple hello become such a burden? Certainly we’ve all met someone that we’ve had to expel from our roster of casual acquaintances because they wanted the peripheral role they were playing in your life to be a lead role. When they wouldn’t take the hint that they were extras in your play, you had to blow them off.
Such a person can indeed be a pain. But the situation I’m describing is one where you haven’t even auditioned for a major part. You’re happy being an extra. But even that’s too much for some people. They ease you out moving from good morning and a warm handshake to pretending they don’t see you, even crossing the street to avoid having to say hello.
I liked knowing the supermarket manager. If there was ever a problem with the fresh peaches or a broken jar of spaghetti sauce, I could tell him, as a friend of course, that he had a cleanup to handle in aisle five. Not that I ever got that far. I wonder if he suspected I might be the presumptuous type. That a gentle complaint about too ripe bananas would morph into a full blown recommendation about how to organize the fresh seafood case.
That never would have happened by the way. I am a firm believer that unless you’re in the same line of work, there is very little you can add to someone else’s work. When someone has invested years to learn their business we should respect their knowledge. Still, maybe I lingered too long near the bakery or squeezed one too many loaves of bread to suit him.
Sometimes when I see this guy I wonder if he thought my speech was lousy. Is that why he put me in the deep freeze? I’m wracking my brain to remember my topic that day. I know for sure it had nothing to do with the grocery business so I am safe on that score.
The other possibility is that having met me he just decided he didn’t like me. Nothing personal you understand. Perhaps, I’m just not his cup of tea. If that’s the case, he is absolutely wrong about me. If I wasn’t a nice guy I would be including his first and last name in this story not to mention the name of his supermarket and its location.
I’m not sure we consciously decide to delete people. I suspect sometimes it just happens. If pressed to explain it we probably couldn’t come up with a good reason in most cases. But I think we wind up feeling just a little bit uncomfortable every time we bump into a former acquaintance. Pretending you don’t know someone is hard work. Maybe the answer is to start over. Walk up to that person and say hello. I think I’ll do just that with the supermarket manager. Probably we’ll both be relieved. And I’ll never ask him why the self service cash registers are programmed to say stupid things like, “don’t forget to take you’re receipt.”
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Using the Drive-thru? Don't Be Rude
A friend of mine was ranting a while back about the way little things can really get under your skin. She began with a rant about people that use the drive through at fast food restaurants and then place huge orders which take 15 minutes to complete. “It’s not okay to do that,” she said, “and people should know better.”
She went on to complain about people who stick their kids in these Hummer sized shopping carts provided by the store and then take up the entire aisle while they shop at a snails pace. Actually that was the second time in a week I heard a complaint about shopping carts. Another friend suggested I devote an entire column to people that don’t know how to drive shopping carts. He is annoyed with people that don’t watch where they are going. They slam (not bump) into you rounding the corner and don’t even say excuse me, he complained.
You might think we have much bigger fish to fry these days. The economy has tanked. There’s global warming, terrorism and out of control healthcare spending to contend with. These are big problems but not many of us are equipped to provide solutions to them. We’re lucky if we can grasp the nature of problems of such magnitude. While these major issues will surely haunt us in the macro, they don’t always have a measurable impact on our day to day lives.
Rudeness however, is another matter. We know it when we see it. No explanation required. No complicated formulas to study. Indeed, careless cart driving and thoughtless hogging of the drive thru lanes shouldn’t be tolerated. If only we could be certain that we’re dealing with rudeness. After all, being rude is a conscious and deliberate act.
There’s no doubt that someone using the drive through to place multiple and large orders could be called rude if you accept the premise that the drive through window is designed for the quick order like a cup of coffee or a hamburger and a shake. The thing is restaurants never make that point. In fact the lighted sign next to the intercom has every menu item including combo options. Is this not a license to order whatever you like? To make matters worse, the lettering is small and poorly organized. And, I’ll bet you’ve never heard a fast food restaurant employee say, “Oh that order is too large to place here. You’ll have to come inside.”
It would certainly be courteous to opt for parking your car and going into the restaurant but people probably feel like they’re saving lots of time by using the drive thru. After all wasn’t that why it was invented?
What about slow shoppers and careless cart drivers? Are they just blatantly rude? Nah. Again, the grocery stores encourage this behavior by making the kiddy ride-along carts huge and heavy. This forces Moms to slow down, giving them more time to peruse the items on the shelves. Other shoppers, namely adults in a hurry, are forced to slow down too. If they’re not jabbering on their cell phones, what choice do they have but to bite their lips and add a box of cookies they know they want but swore they wouldn’t buy?
Careless cart drivers are victims too. Big-box stores offer just one kind of shopping cart. It’s the heavy duty big rig. There’s a reason why drivers of on the road big rig trucks are required to go to school to learn to handle them. Important things like turning radius and breaking distance are core parts of the curriculum in these schools.
Big-box retail stores, where most of these tragic bumper car like incidents occur, are only interested in whether you have a valid membership card. They assume you can handle their carts. They never give a thought to the laws of physics that come into play when you’re pushing a cart laden down with number ten cans of peanut butter. Talk about breaking distance. And, who can control a full shopping cart when one of the wheels is bent, wobbly or even missing? No wonder there are accidents.
Of course my friends will say that I’ve missed the point…again. They just want people to use common sense. Failing that, simple courtesy will do. They might argue that just because businesses encourage bad behavior doesn’t make it all right. A civilized society depends on courteous behavior. Point well taken. Still, I’ll keep my eyes open for the big rigs just in case.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
She went on to complain about people who stick their kids in these Hummer sized shopping carts provided by the store and then take up the entire aisle while they shop at a snails pace. Actually that was the second time in a week I heard a complaint about shopping carts. Another friend suggested I devote an entire column to people that don’t know how to drive shopping carts. He is annoyed with people that don’t watch where they are going. They slam (not bump) into you rounding the corner and don’t even say excuse me, he complained.
You might think we have much bigger fish to fry these days. The economy has tanked. There’s global warming, terrorism and out of control healthcare spending to contend with. These are big problems but not many of us are equipped to provide solutions to them. We’re lucky if we can grasp the nature of problems of such magnitude. While these major issues will surely haunt us in the macro, they don’t always have a measurable impact on our day to day lives.
Rudeness however, is another matter. We know it when we see it. No explanation required. No complicated formulas to study. Indeed, careless cart driving and thoughtless hogging of the drive thru lanes shouldn’t be tolerated. If only we could be certain that we’re dealing with rudeness. After all, being rude is a conscious and deliberate act.
There’s no doubt that someone using the drive through to place multiple and large orders could be called rude if you accept the premise that the drive through window is designed for the quick order like a cup of coffee or a hamburger and a shake. The thing is restaurants never make that point. In fact the lighted sign next to the intercom has every menu item including combo options. Is this not a license to order whatever you like? To make matters worse, the lettering is small and poorly organized. And, I’ll bet you’ve never heard a fast food restaurant employee say, “Oh that order is too large to place here. You’ll have to come inside.”
It would certainly be courteous to opt for parking your car and going into the restaurant but people probably feel like they’re saving lots of time by using the drive thru. After all wasn’t that why it was invented?
What about slow shoppers and careless cart drivers? Are they just blatantly rude? Nah. Again, the grocery stores encourage this behavior by making the kiddy ride-along carts huge and heavy. This forces Moms to slow down, giving them more time to peruse the items on the shelves. Other shoppers, namely adults in a hurry, are forced to slow down too. If they’re not jabbering on their cell phones, what choice do they have but to bite their lips and add a box of cookies they know they want but swore they wouldn’t buy?
Careless cart drivers are victims too. Big-box stores offer just one kind of shopping cart. It’s the heavy duty big rig. There’s a reason why drivers of on the road big rig trucks are required to go to school to learn to handle them. Important things like turning radius and breaking distance are core parts of the curriculum in these schools.
Big-box retail stores, where most of these tragic bumper car like incidents occur, are only interested in whether you have a valid membership card. They assume you can handle their carts. They never give a thought to the laws of physics that come into play when you’re pushing a cart laden down with number ten cans of peanut butter. Talk about breaking distance. And, who can control a full shopping cart when one of the wheels is bent, wobbly or even missing? No wonder there are accidents.
Of course my friends will say that I’ve missed the point…again. They just want people to use common sense. Failing that, simple courtesy will do. They might argue that just because businesses encourage bad behavior doesn’t make it all right. A civilized society depends on courteous behavior. Point well taken. Still, I’ll keep my eyes open for the big rigs just in case.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Breakfast of Champions
Breakfast is one of my favorite meals. Actually all meals are favorites for me which explains why I’m currently enduring the rigors of the South Beach diet. But I do enjoy a good breakfast. Whether its eggs and grits, pancakes, French toast or Cheerios and bananas, I’m happy. Add a cup of hot coffee and my day is off to an excellent start. Sometimes I’ll drink a glass of water too. And orange juice with lots of pulp is always a welcome treat.
One thing I have never had with breakfast though is an alcoholic beverage. Oops, check that. I did have a sazerac with eggs Benedict at Brennan’s in New Orleans once. Very classy. I felt urbane that entire morning, a feeling that few natives of Newark, New Jersey are acquainted with. Other than that I’ve limited my alcohol consumption to meals served later in the day.
To be honest it never occurred to me that a cocktail or even a beer might enhance my breakfast meal. That is until last week. I was strolling down to my gate at Nashville International Airport when a chalkboard sign caught my eye. One of the taverns in Terminal C had a neatly printed sign that read, “Now serving breakfast along with your favorite beer and cocktails.” I’ll admit it the sign shook me up. A cocktail with breakfast? Who would have thought? My shock quickly gave way to panic. Isn’t it hard enough to select an appropriate wine with dinner? Just when I finally have the courage to open a bottle of Zinfandel to accompany my wife’s meatloaf, I have a whole new set of rules to learn. Now I have to figure out which beer goes with breakfast?
Consider this: Which cocktail would you prefer with your breakfast? I’m getting a hangover just thinking about it. As usual, I’m probably getting carried away. Maybe it’s not that hard. After all, a bottle of Corona should be a natural with a breakfast burrito, right? And an orange blossom might be a good match with cherry pancakes. I wonder if Cracker Barrel will start serving liquor. What about eggs and grits though? Could I get away with a Jack Daniels served neat if the eggs are prepared over easy? But what do I do if I want scrambled eggs? Maybe there’s an urbane reader (with or without a zazerac) out there that can offer a suggestion on that.
Now before you start to think I’ve led a completely sheltered life or that I am close-minded when it comes to alcohol for breakfast, I am vaguely aware that drinks like the Bloody Mary and Mimosa have long been popular breakfast choices. There are some who claim that originally, the cocktail was a breakfast drink, due in part to the belief that alcoholic beverages were perhaps safer than drinking water was centuries ago. Considering how many of us choose to drink bottled water instead of tap, maybe breweries and distillers should be marketing their beverages as healthy breakfast alternatives.
In spite of the time honored history of a morning eye-opener, I doubt that most of us are starting our day with a jigger of something 80 proof though. I do know that Terminal C had a line for coffee. Not so for the bar next door. Yet, that little sign I saw at the airport made it seem so natural, as if what most of us are doing at home every morning is now also available at the airport. Maybe a good stiff drink is a marvelous way to start the day. Is it possible that a morning martini might improve my performance at a staff meeting? Would a drink be a suitable substitute for watching the tube last night instead of reviewing my notes? I don’t know about you but in my experience alcohol tends to slow me down. I have a drink in the evening because I’m done negotiating, selling and writing. My editor kind of insists on that last one.
Times are tough right now. We’ll all have to make sacrifices and we’ll be asked to work harder than ever. Under the circumstances, I am tempted to put some Scotch in my cornflakes. But the airlines don’t serve cereal and I just might want a chaser.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved
One thing I have never had with breakfast though is an alcoholic beverage. Oops, check that. I did have a sazerac with eggs Benedict at Brennan’s in New Orleans once. Very classy. I felt urbane that entire morning, a feeling that few natives of Newark, New Jersey are acquainted with. Other than that I’ve limited my alcohol consumption to meals served later in the day.
To be honest it never occurred to me that a cocktail or even a beer might enhance my breakfast meal. That is until last week. I was strolling down to my gate at Nashville International Airport when a chalkboard sign caught my eye. One of the taverns in Terminal C had a neatly printed sign that read, “Now serving breakfast along with your favorite beer and cocktails.” I’ll admit it the sign shook me up. A cocktail with breakfast? Who would have thought? My shock quickly gave way to panic. Isn’t it hard enough to select an appropriate wine with dinner? Just when I finally have the courage to open a bottle of Zinfandel to accompany my wife’s meatloaf, I have a whole new set of rules to learn. Now I have to figure out which beer goes with breakfast?
Consider this: Which cocktail would you prefer with your breakfast? I’m getting a hangover just thinking about it. As usual, I’m probably getting carried away. Maybe it’s not that hard. After all, a bottle of Corona should be a natural with a breakfast burrito, right? And an orange blossom might be a good match with cherry pancakes. I wonder if Cracker Barrel will start serving liquor. What about eggs and grits though? Could I get away with a Jack Daniels served neat if the eggs are prepared over easy? But what do I do if I want scrambled eggs? Maybe there’s an urbane reader (with or without a zazerac) out there that can offer a suggestion on that.
Now before you start to think I’ve led a completely sheltered life or that I am close-minded when it comes to alcohol for breakfast, I am vaguely aware that drinks like the Bloody Mary and Mimosa have long been popular breakfast choices. There are some who claim that originally, the cocktail was a breakfast drink, due in part to the belief that alcoholic beverages were perhaps safer than drinking water was centuries ago. Considering how many of us choose to drink bottled water instead of tap, maybe breweries and distillers should be marketing their beverages as healthy breakfast alternatives.
In spite of the time honored history of a morning eye-opener, I doubt that most of us are starting our day with a jigger of something 80 proof though. I do know that Terminal C had a line for coffee. Not so for the bar next door. Yet, that little sign I saw at the airport made it seem so natural, as if what most of us are doing at home every morning is now also available at the airport. Maybe a good stiff drink is a marvelous way to start the day. Is it possible that a morning martini might improve my performance at a staff meeting? Would a drink be a suitable substitute for watching the tube last night instead of reviewing my notes? I don’t know about you but in my experience alcohol tends to slow me down. I have a drink in the evening because I’m done negotiating, selling and writing. My editor kind of insists on that last one.
Times are tough right now. We’ll all have to make sacrifices and we’ll be asked to work harder than ever. Under the circumstances, I am tempted to put some Scotch in my cornflakes. But the airlines don’t serve cereal and I just might want a chaser.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved
Friday, October 3, 2008
I Remember That
Yankee Stadium just closed its gates for the last time, ending it’s run as the best sports venue of all time. To honor the House that Ruth built, Yankee Stadium was the site of the Major League All Star Game in July. Mike and Paul, two guys I went to school with back when the Beatles were in their prime, are huge Yankee fans so I decided to tell them a couple of stories about memorable games I attended at the Big Ballpark.
My all time favorite was on June 21, 1959. It was a Father’s Day double header against the Cleveland Indians. The Indians won both games and Rocky Colavito hit a home run in each game. I wasn’t there with my father that day. Along with three other kids in the neighborhood, I took the 118 bus to the New York Port Authority, the A train to 59th and the D train to 161st and River Ave. We each paid $1.50 for a general admission seat.
That wasn’t my first trip to Yankee Stadium though. So I had to tell Mike and Paul about my first game too. That’s when I got into trouble. The year was 1954. I was six years old. My father took me to that game and the Yankees beat the White Sox 9-4 behind rookie sensation, Bob Grim. Only it never happened. Not in 1954 or 1955 for that matter. The Yankees didn’t beat anybody 9-4 in Yankee Stadium that year or the next. How do I know? I went on line and checked the Baseball Almanac. Memory is a funny thing. If you asked me 30 years ago, or even the day before I sent the email to my buddies, about my first trip to the Big Ballpark I would have said with complete confidence it was 1954, the Yankees beat the White Sox 9-4. Bob Grim was the winning pitcher.
You know, I was very fond of that memory. Notwithstanding what the Baseball Almanac says, I called my father see what he remembered. He thought it was the Polo Grounds, New York Giants versus the St Louis Cardinals.
The World Wide Web, so loaded with information on so many topics, is a marvel; maybe the most incredible thing since Gutenberg’s printing press. There’s no question the Web has become indispensible for many of us. As a writer I am very grateful for the Net. Only now I wonder if it’s too easy to dig up things that should be left alone. Precious memories are a case in point. When you discover that something so ingrained in your memory never actually happened, it shakes your foundation you know? What other recollections do I have rolling around in my head that are nothing more than figments of my imagination?
Future generations probably won’t have such conundrums to deal with. What hasn’t been captured on the Web as a matter of public information, they will no doubt capture themselves and put it on MySpace. From their moment of birth to school days, birthdays, weddings and anniversaries, much of what our children and grandchildren do will be documented and available to the world. No need to wonder whether Aunt Stella was there for your Christening or whether your cousin Jimmy really punched your best man during the wedding rehearsal dinner. You’ll be able to go to your personal library and find the event. Could memory as we know it cease to exist? I mean if it’s all easily retrieved on your computer, just waiting in cyberspace anytime you want to access it, will we become too lazy or otherwise preoccupied to reflect on our experiences and, over time learn from them?
Nicholas Carr posed that very question in an article he wrote for Atlantic Monthly. In his article, Is Google Making Me Stupid, he says, “…I’ve had an uncomfortable sense that someone, or something, has been tinkering with my brain, remapping the neural circuitry, reprogramming the memory.”
If studies should prove that the Internet does affect the way we think and our ability to remember, maybe future generations won’t have to worry about discovering some long held memory was wrong. Computers, serving as our adjunct brains, will keep memories straight with no worry that time or life experience will jumble several events together to form ersatz but satisfying memories. Memories will always be clinically correct. Isn’t that great?
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
My all time favorite was on June 21, 1959. It was a Father’s Day double header against the Cleveland Indians. The Indians won both games and Rocky Colavito hit a home run in each game. I wasn’t there with my father that day. Along with three other kids in the neighborhood, I took the 118 bus to the New York Port Authority, the A train to 59th and the D train to 161st and River Ave. We each paid $1.50 for a general admission seat.
That wasn’t my first trip to Yankee Stadium though. So I had to tell Mike and Paul about my first game too. That’s when I got into trouble. The year was 1954. I was six years old. My father took me to that game and the Yankees beat the White Sox 9-4 behind rookie sensation, Bob Grim. Only it never happened. Not in 1954 or 1955 for that matter. The Yankees didn’t beat anybody 9-4 in Yankee Stadium that year or the next. How do I know? I went on line and checked the Baseball Almanac. Memory is a funny thing. If you asked me 30 years ago, or even the day before I sent the email to my buddies, about my first trip to the Big Ballpark I would have said with complete confidence it was 1954, the Yankees beat the White Sox 9-4. Bob Grim was the winning pitcher.
You know, I was very fond of that memory. Notwithstanding what the Baseball Almanac says, I called my father see what he remembered. He thought it was the Polo Grounds, New York Giants versus the St Louis Cardinals.
The World Wide Web, so loaded with information on so many topics, is a marvel; maybe the most incredible thing since Gutenberg’s printing press. There’s no question the Web has become indispensible for many of us. As a writer I am very grateful for the Net. Only now I wonder if it’s too easy to dig up things that should be left alone. Precious memories are a case in point. When you discover that something so ingrained in your memory never actually happened, it shakes your foundation you know? What other recollections do I have rolling around in my head that are nothing more than figments of my imagination?
Future generations probably won’t have such conundrums to deal with. What hasn’t been captured on the Web as a matter of public information, they will no doubt capture themselves and put it on MySpace. From their moment of birth to school days, birthdays, weddings and anniversaries, much of what our children and grandchildren do will be documented and available to the world. No need to wonder whether Aunt Stella was there for your Christening or whether your cousin Jimmy really punched your best man during the wedding rehearsal dinner. You’ll be able to go to your personal library and find the event. Could memory as we know it cease to exist? I mean if it’s all easily retrieved on your computer, just waiting in cyberspace anytime you want to access it, will we become too lazy or otherwise preoccupied to reflect on our experiences and, over time learn from them?
Nicholas Carr posed that very question in an article he wrote for Atlantic Monthly. In his article, Is Google Making Me Stupid, he says, “…I’ve had an uncomfortable sense that someone, or something, has been tinkering with my brain, remapping the neural circuitry, reprogramming the memory.”
If studies should prove that the Internet does affect the way we think and our ability to remember, maybe future generations won’t have to worry about discovering some long held memory was wrong. Computers, serving as our adjunct brains, will keep memories straight with no worry that time or life experience will jumble several events together to form ersatz but satisfying memories. Memories will always be clinically correct. Isn’t that great?
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
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