I made a note to write about the local cable TV office earlier in the year. I had a memorable experience there that required sharing. My blog output shriveled up but I saved my notes.

When I got home from work yesterday, Melanie told me she stopped into that same cable TV office to drop off our old equipment. She had gone back to the old house to get some things we left behind and clean a little.

Melanie found a long line of miserable, complaining people once inside the office. She turned around and left. I have always found that office to have a line. But the last time I was there I waited in that line. Our remote control had suffered a fatal injury at the hands of the children. I had no choice but to wait.

I immediately made several observations. Let's run 'em down.

1. The customers showed signs of agitation. The customers being waited on at the window bristled over their problems. The four people ahead of me in line stood in various poses of anxiety. One man rocked from side to side while gripping his cable bill in his hand. He looked like he was about to run out of a tunnel and into a stadium for an athletic event. He worked himself up for the showdown with the women behind the window.

2. The "customer service" people sat in tall chairs behind a glass window with a small hole cut in the bottom for speaking. They sat side-saddle so they could read a computer screen and talk to customers simultaneously. Whoever designed this setup must have foreshadowed conflict. A tall, insurmountable barrier defended by people who didn't have to look you in the eye.

3. Conflict. Signs of conflict erupted everywhere. Stanchions with ropes lined the office corridor outside the windows. Whenever I see see ropes and stanchions I think of disorder. That's why they're there, right. People are disorderly so to keep them in line let's put up fences to corral them into line. Spartan decor. As drab a room as you'll ever see. Why? so when the irate customer goes off they can't flip a chair or table over or crash the glass with a lamp. Ever wonder why certain offices have glass windows? Some post offices I've been to. Doctor's offices. Banks. Check cashing joints. Gas stations. In the Bronx and Brooklyn I remember seeing chicken restaurants with glass windows and no sitting area.

My mentor, Harry educated me on the chicken restaurant gauge of crime levels in a city. Harry explained that if the neighborhood had a KFC, you were in a good place with little to fear. Popeye's? Not much to worry about. Kennedy Fried Chicken, a knock-oof of the Colonel was a step down. Crown Fried Chicken? Don't stop at red lights or stop signs.

Harry's advice was spot-on. When you see a fast food restaurant with no dining area and a pass-thru window to receive your food, keep moving.

My point here is that by setting up businesses in this way a message is being broadcast. The signals say we don't trust you. There's valuable stuff in here you can't have. We talking about things you shouldn't hear. You're so unimportant I can shut you out with a sliding piece of glass. You want to talk to me? Push that little button and maybe I'll be able to hear you.

I'm no idiot (debatable). I know crime happens and some information has to be protected. I get it. But when you erect a piece of glass and expect humans to communicate through it, especially when one of the two has a problem to fix it's a bad idea.

How about the next time you get pulled over by the police, only roll your window down a fraction. Tell the officer the computers are running slow today and he'll have to come back in an hour.

Maybe carry a piece of clear plexi-glass into an office that doesn't have glass next time you are going to argue over a service or bill. Seems to work at lot's of places. I think it gives you the right to flip out and go apeshit because with the glass in place you really can't do any damage.

I like the way hotels and airport desks are set up. You can get right in someone's grill and talk about what's on your mind. No separation. No barriers. When I see that glass in a business I always wonder "Did someone get shot in here? I hope they got caught. But I guess they didn't or all this glass wouldn't be necessary."

Search for "customer service" in Google images, filter it for photos only and see what you get. Do any of these people look like the service agents ant any business you've ever been to? I can think of a handful. But maybe I couldn't see lots of those other people so well through the glass.

What is thy bidding, my master?

A couple months ago I added six new ring tones to my cell phone. All six were audio of Darth Vader of Star Wars fame. Here are the lines:
"If you only knew the power of the dark side."
"All too easy."
"The force is with you, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet."
"The emperor is not as forgiving as I am."
"I find your lack of faith disturbing."
"What is thy bidding, my master?"

I originally added these with the intention of poking fun at a situation at work. It definitely adds some humor to the workplace to hear the Dark Lord's voice booming off the phone. Depending on the audience when it goes off, reaction ranges from confused to downright giddy! Some of Vader's quotes were better; James Earl Jones' pitch and volume being more dramatic but they were just too long for a ring tone.
"Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those plans. And bring me the passengers, I want them alive!"

I've been stopping at a different Dunkin Donuts lately and my first impression was that the store manager must be Darth Vader. The employees greeted you at the speaker and again at the pick-up window with all the unbridled enthusiasm of an Imperial Storm Trooper. Seriously, the faces were as grim as the expressionless stormtrooper helmet and the lack of friendliness made me feel like I was inconveniencing them when I ordered a medium coffee (I don't know what the Starbucks equivalent of a medium coffee is for you SB loyalists. Is it tall, grande, venti? Why don't you stop reading and go do something that requires the metric system?)

Anyway, I finally cracked their Imperial armor yesterday. I made them laugh by doing something unexpected. It wasn't by design. I was having a Monday moment on a Tuesday following a long holiday weekend. I got in the drive thru lane and when it was my turn to shout into the speaker, I drove a half car-length too far past. Behind me was a diesel pick-up and there was no way they could hear me if I shouted back towards the mic.

The young woman with the headset on looked out the window helplessly at me. She looked confused. Her expression reflected her thoughts, "You can't do that! You can't drive past the speaker without ordering! What do we do now? This wasn't in the training!"

When I got to the window, we had a good laugh. My order was simple and easy to fill. I was out in about the same time as if I followed the rules. But what made it worth it were the smiles I saw on the two employees as I drove off. They actually lightened up for a minute. Their Imperial training forgotten because of a blundering customer. Probably part of a rebellion resistance of some kind.

There's a great video on the TED conference site by a Bulgarian guy Steve Keil who thinks the problem with their country is the lack of PLAY. It's a fascinating watch. Check it out at http://www.ted.com/talks/steve_keil_a_manifesto_for_play_for_bulgaria_and_beyond.html
Now get out there and smile!

Routine Change

There's nothing more disturbing to your peace of mind than moving. Crating and boxing up your life and shipping it off to another locale is less than tranquil. From watching the movers ding your walls of the old house with a dresser to the unwrapping of the moving blankets of said dresser to check for damage, it's all unsettling.

I know they're only things being shuttled from A to B but they're our things. The only things we own. And while some of those things don't look quite right in the new house or I'm secretly sick of looking at that thing and wish it broke in the truck, things cost money. We can't wantonly discard things as if they had no value because things can't be replaced with the snap of your fingers. There's also a cost associated with turning something useful into garbage.

A friend put us onto a website called freecycle.org
It's a very cool way to give your stuff to others for free. One of our last days in the old CT house we successfully gave away needed baby stuff to an expecting dad whose wife was in labor at the hospital. Pretty cool. My old Smith machine that's been sitting unused in the basement had become an expensive coat rack. An hour of disassembly and carting all the parts to the curb and a couple freecycle e-mails and poof, it was gone. No haggling about money or petty details. You want it? Come take it or someone else will.

So we're in the new digs in Massachusetts and I'm feeling right at home. Met new neighbors that enjoy scotch and cigars. Small world, eh? The rest of the family? Oh yes. They're adjusting just fine.

The big challenge right now is finding stuff. There's over 100 boxes of stuff. Each one is labeled with cryptic messages like "shelf items" or "upstairs closet". I know they couldn't inventory everything in the carton but locating things as simple but necessary as coffee filters or flip flops isn't easy.

One of our movers remains beyond memorable. He shook my hand at the door on the first day and gave a slight bow of his head. "Hello, sir," he said. "I am Turk." Turk turned out to be his nickname because he hails from Turkey, though he pointed out later that he was only 50% Turkish. He had some Russian and Greek blood in his veins as well.

Turk packed boxes with admirable efficiency. While packing my home office, he asked me about American football after seeing some of my stuff. Turk said, "I do not understand your football. I mean, I understand it but I prefer more strategy in competition. The athletes, what they do to their bodies."

I explained the idea of football, especially on the professional level is more like gladiatorial combat. People pay to see the violence. There's little difference between the Roman audience in the Colosseum and today's modern pro football fan. He agreed on the reference but we agreed to disagree on the strategy.

Turk and some of the other movers made an impression on my kids. Turk slowly took on an educational role with Jake, my 4 year old. At one point he said to him, "Jake, one day you will meet a big man with blond hair and blue eyes. His name will also be Turk. Shake his hand and call him friend because..." At this point the other three movers all joined in a chorus, finishing the line, "because he will one day rule the world!" They all broke up in laughter. Turk must have big plans for his 5 month old son.

Torrington Football Letterman's Club

Well, with just a week left time is running out to join the outing. Make sure to visit the web site or contact me if you want to get a foursome, a single golfer, any combination really into the lineup. We've got some killer raffle prizes including footballs signed by Rex Ryan! Sweet, I mean, feet, no, sweet!