From the Observation Deck

Yes, another customer service story. I can’t help it, I’m a marketer by trade and it’s frustrating to see a company go down the tubes because of poor delivery, service, products, appearance—you name it. I can write about how great a brand is, the benefits of using this product or attending this event—more so than its competitors, but if the front-line people can’t tie their shoes or treat customers like they were a minor annoyance that distracted them from idleness, it makes me sad and my superior promotional efforts go to waste.

I once worked with some colleagues on a project where we trained the staff to understand what a brand is, why it’s important, and how they tie into it. I think they were surprised at how important each and every one of them was to creating the organization’s brand. One of their favorite brands was Target. They liked the cleanliness of the store, the quality of the selection and products, and the fast and easy checkout lines. So the CEO, the VPs, and other higher-ups can create a vision and goals for the company, and develop a certain culture among the staff, but when it comes down to it, the janitor and the checkout clerks were the ones really creating the brand experience for the customer.

Next time you pick up a phone, write an email, stand behind a counter, or have any contact with a customer, remember what you say, how you say it, and how you do your job effects the brand.  

I will never go through Home Depot for a major home-improvement project again. Why? Because I have had two previous not-so-great experiences and now recently bought hardwood floors for my kitchen. The signs on the product information both in the store and online said delivery takes about seven days. After ordering the floors, I was told they wouldn’t be in for about six weeks. When they did come in I got a call to schedule a delivery with a window of nine hours on a Saturday. (Not acceptable.) I got a call the day before informing me that they had “lost” my floors. That’s right people, you read that right. On and on the misinformation and non-forthcoming communication went.  

Yesterday, I decided to call back to see (after three weeks) if they had found my floors. “Yes,” I was told. At this point I was at my last straw and asked to talk to the manager. I asked if they would give me a discount. (Mainly because after all the bad service, I was told they could deliver after 6 pm and now they were saying that wasn’t accurate and it would have to be a Saturday—my next free one being six weeks away.) He was not willing to do that so I told him I was five minutes away from cancelling the order and taking my business to Lowe’s.

Suddenly delivery was available for that evening! It took months of being nice and patient, getting bad service over and over again and having to threaten to cancel my order before any kind of effort was made to rectify the situation. I’m glad he finally found a solution and went outside and beyond their normal process to deliver my goods (which they charged me for two months ago), but not happy that they took NO initiative to satisfy a customer. Their database had inaccurate information, many of their staff could not speak English very well, they were telling me wrong information that I had to clarify and confirm with other staff members, and they did nothing to go the extra mile with a customer they were not servicing well. So they’ve lost my business and I’ll be driving the extra 10 minutes to Lowe’s now.

Don’t let me down Lowe’s, I’m counting on you!

Do you think this will get flagged by someone in some spy-like organization? Maybe I give myself too much credit—or self importance. Anyhow, I was thinking about torture after a little incident I experienced tonight. It’s one of those things I’m going to tell my co-workers about tomorrow because even though it’s embarrassing, it’s also funny and I can’t pass up sharing a laugh.

Over the years I’ve broken my arms four times, sprained my ankles, broken my toes, gotten stitches three times, had physical therapy on my shoulders, bruised my tailbone, tore cartilage in my rib cage, strained my knees, and … I’m sure there’s more but you get the idea. 

How did all that happen? Well here are some of the ways: skateboarding, roller skating, skiing, swimming, walking, driving, falling down the stairs, gardening, and watching a hockey game. What is that you say? I’m a klutz? Yes, I am. Except the hockey puck thing—that was not at all my fault.

The latest way I found to torture myself was a combination of cooking and eye care. Because I currently have an eye infection, I am taking my contacts out periodically. So, tonight after taking them out, I started cooking dinner. Some chili nachos to be precise. I spread some jalapeño peppers on the chips and then went to put my contacts back in. Trust me; I thoroughly washed my hands twice before picking up my contact and placing it on my eye. Here’s some advice for you. Jalapeño juice does not easily wash off. When I put the contact on my eye I felt an intense burning sensation. My already infected eye was now bright red and watering with jalapeño-induced agony.

So naturally I put the other contact in and went through it all again. Brilliant.

Next week the topic will be how not to kill yourself while typing.

The title of this post is a quote from a famous heckler. If you’ve ever watched the Muppets Show you’ll remember the two gentlemen in the balcony who make fun of everyone. I don’t know why I’m writing about this. Just needed a funny break and I’m procrastinating painting my house.

I found this Muppet personality test online. What Muppet are you? I’m Gonzo. Not sure how I feel about that. Muppet Wiki describes him like so:

“Gonzo is the resident daredevil performance artiste on The Muppet Show. He is an odd looking, unclassifiable alien creature with blue fur, bug eyes, and a long crooked nose. He takes pride in his uniqueness and enjoys everything that he does — no matter how painful or ill-advised it may be. Gonzo performs terrible acts but considers them artistic.”

Hmmm. They are saying he’s dilusional when it comes to his talent. Whatever.

Take this poll and tell us who your favorite character is.

As much as I love Mahna Mahna and the Swedish Chef, I’m going to have to go with the Statler and Waldorf.

Statler: That really offended me. I’m a student of Shakespeare.

Waldorf: Ha! You were a student *with* Shakespeare.

My family and I have always been interested in learning new things. New cultures, history, earth science, computer science (not me on that one), and marketing trends—well you get my meaning. Sometimes I’m sure I’m that geek who hangs out in a bar with her friends talking about inane things and spewing trivia. Kind of like Cliff in Cheers. And sometimes I’m the geek who wants more explanation of a concept, or wants to read details about 16^th century politics and legends.

I should probably just watch Jeopardy like my aunt Sandy who is smart as a whip. And I do watch it sometimes, it’s a great show, but right now I’m catching up on summer reruns and avoiding the three foot jungle growing in my backyard.

So I’m going to throw out a challenge. Hardly anyone comments on this blog and maybe that says something about the content. I’m going to pretend it’s your fault so my ego doesn’t get crushed. I would like to challenge you to reply to this post and give me a good, “Did you know?” Tell me something random, something weird, something interesting—or not—anything. Give me a good conversation starter for those awkward moments when I need to impress someone with my wide breadth of knowledge.

No cheating now. You can look something up but no Balderdash type stuff.

Here’s some stuff to start you off with.

Did you know…?

• That my dog is color-blind and that I dream in color?
• That the Star-Spangled Banner was written by a lawyer and inspired by the sight of the American flag still flying after a massive barrage on Fort McHenry?
• That it’s impossible to go into a Costco and not come out with $100 worth of stuff that wasn’t on your list?
• That in the 18^th century, the French used to wear makeup on their faces (which contained lead and burned holes through their skin) to look as though they did not labor in the sun and were therefore part of the upper class? And today a tan symbolizes a life of leisure. Hmmm.
• The Afghan war is now the longest war in U.S. history?
• That Grendel the dog barks, on average, 12 times per year?

 Well, did you?

Well I’m back in the real world grinding out the work and running errands and getting things fixed. You know, the never ending cycle of take one step forward and add three things to the to-do list. That’s why I love vacations. I love just sitting on the beach. I am very blessed to be able to spend time at my beach house with family and friends like I did last week. And it never fails that my blood pressure goes down about 20 points as soon as I enter the house and look out onto the ocean. God is good!

Unfortunately I can’t live there full time. Yet. That is my goal in life though. One day I want to live either at the beach or in a cottage on a lake. If all you people who visit this blog and read it would tell 5,000 of your friends to come read it, then I could get hired to write my amazingly insightful observations on life and be able to live my dream.

But in the meantime, I’m going to give thanks and praise to the Lord for my job, my home, my pets, my loving family, my awesome friends, and for helping me not completely fall off the diet wagon this week (not all of that was in any kind of priority by the way). I wish I could devote more of my time to God and to basically other pursuits more worthy than couch imprinting but I tend to run out of gas after all the work and chores are done.

So I’m not perfect. Revelation! But whatever. Here’s something I saw on Facebook that was really cool so I’m going to share it with you. This lovely lady, Tamara, says in her one-minute sermon; make your peace with God before it’s too late. I’ve done that already so now I think I’ll go watch Royal Pains. It’s a nice little summer show that I’ve gotten into. God bless!

Continuing on with the Nova Scotia trip was our excursion up through the Glooscap Trail. First stop was the wildlife provincial park. Upon entering the park we spotted a beautiful peacock. He had plenty of friends scattered around the park and they communicated by bellowing loudly to each other. Then we passed the cougars—hyper things these creatures are. They pace back and forth continuously like they have ADD or something. Other impressive animals included the moose—the only ones we saw on the entire trip even though the locals boast of seeing them everywhere—and bears, bobcats, owls, and a horse (not really defined as wild) that had an itch. I found it comical to watch it scratch its behind on the fence we were standing in front of. Maybe he was looking for an assist.

Our trip continued with a drive past the 50-foot Mastodon located at the midway point from the equator to the pole. I thought it was the 49^th parallel until my dad pointed out it was the 45^th parallel. After thinking about the math for a moment I told him to shut it. (Just kidding.) Just up the road was the Glooscap Heritage Center. This was where we learned all about the history and culture of the native Indian tribe—the Mi’kmaqs. Their mythical legendary hero (for want of a better description) was a massive creature who took the form of a man and could pretty much create mountains and rivers and conduct other miraculous feats. There was statue of him you can see for a distance down the highway.

Next stop was the Joggins fossil cliffs—way up the trail near New Brunswick. This was very cool. Due to the nature of the tides and how the land had formed from swamps, glaciers, etc., there were tons and tons of fossils from plants and animals dating back 350 million years. We took a tour and went down to the beach where you can see fossilized trunks from trees right in the side of the cliffs. The cliffs get worn away each day so the scientists there continue to discover new findings all the time. As we walked on the beach, we picked up rock after rock just sitting there that had markings on them. The biology geek in me was fascinated.

After leaving the fossil cliffs we made our way down the Sunrise Trail and stopped off at Jost vineyards. We took a quick tour of the facility and of course shopped for some wonderful local wine. Not much more to say on that.

From there we stopped over night at the slanted house in Pictou and then took off the next day toward the highlands. One last stop before crossing the causeway was at Antigonish for the Highland Games. Unfortunately like so much on this trip, we missed the actually games but got to walk the town during the festival. There were cute girls dancing in costumes, local singers entertaining the crowds, and a few extremely large gentlemen dressed in kilts who demonstrated a few of the contests for us. They had a very heavy metal ball that I could hardly pick up which they told me they toss over their heads as far as it can go. I could only imagine the warriors of the 15^th century and how they must have looked like these guys but only dirtier and with bad teeth.

Well that’s it for now. Our adventure continues with a tour of the Cabot Trail in the highlands of Nova Scotia.

A few of my previous posts have been part of my Canterbury Tails series about interesting people I meet along the pilgrimage of life. There were no shortages of them in Nova Scotia.

Our first character was Wayne. Wayne was our waiter in the café where we stopped for lunch in Truro, Nova Scotia. The seafood chowder was delicious and on this rainy day it really hit the spot. And so did the conversation. Wayne was the kind of guy you just have to love. He loves life, loves people, and is just plain pleasant to be around.

During our short time at the cafe this is what I learned about Wayne. He was once a sailor and traveled the world. Scotland was his favorite place. He knew since he was kid that he wanted to retire and travel. In eight years when his wife retires, he’s going to put his Harley on the back of his RV and they are going to go to Europe and travel around for a few years. Then they’ll pick another place to travel.

He has two German Sheppards and has their pictures framed and sitting on a shelf in the restaurant. He doesn’t own the restaurant but you wouldn’t know that unless you heard him talk. And come to think of it, you’d probably hear him talk if you met him so you’d probably find that out. Okay, anyway. Wayne has been putting money away for his retirement since he was young. He brought up his kids as a single parent and is happy to be at work at 5 a.m.

Seriously, we were only there for less than an hour and I haven’t told you everything. What a great guy—good luck and bon voyage, Wayne.

Another character who I didn’t get to meet for that long was our innkeeper in Pictou. When I called to make reservations and asked about a confirmation she said, “Well, I’m the innkeeper and this is your confirmation.” Maureen took us down to the house we rented and made some recommendations for dinner. She checked to see if the place was clean but I was much more concerned about the 20 degree angle of the house. Seriously. My mom and I slid halfway off the bed during the night. The leaning tower of Pisa has nothing on Maureen’s inn overlooking the harbour. But she was nice and hard working. Got to love the attitude.

Another one of our innkeepers was Barbara who ran a B&B in her townhouse. Driving up through a neighborhood that could have been mine, I was a bit concerned. But she was very helpful and kind. After she suggested we leave for the airport at an ungodly hour, I was sure that she and my dad had been hatched together. She was a bit cat crazy, which of course I loved because they were so cute and I was missing my furry babies. When not teaching her cats how to do a “high five” she was sleuthing on the computer—looking me up and checking out where I lived. All in all, it was a nice place to lay your head.

Our final character was Ben our waiter at the Mic and Mac restaurant. Awesome place outside Halifax by the way. He had this strong voice and a very friendly manner. At one point he came out with a cupcake and sang happy birthday with a beautiful, operatic, loud voice. This is the kind of guy who is comfortable in his skin and can really make you smile.

Many more lovely people were met on our pilgrimage through Nova Scotia and we enjoyed our time with all of these very friendly people.

Slán agus beannacht leat. (Goodbye and blessings with you.)

I don’t have photos of our new pilgrims so here are some funnies from the trip.

Me in the scarecrowe village

Mom and me in Pictou

A stuffed Pilgrim

Let the good times roll. A perfect theme for the city of New Orleans. The people of N’Ahlins are as spicy as their food and have a character that is unique in America. As I was visiting their fair city this week, I got to speak to a few cab and bus drivers as well as hotel staff. All were polite and friendly and upbeat. That must be hard to do when the temperature is 98 degrees and as John Stewart says, “The people of Louisiana’s gulf coast are cleaning the tar off their beaches to get ready for the next disaster.”

I only went down for one night on business, but of course it’s New Orleans, so there is plenty to talk about. When I got off the plane I climbed into a taxi and within a few minutes realized that my driver was probably the guy who back in 2005 during the height of Katrina was probably standing in the middle of Canal street screaming, “Is that all you got?” Seriously, it was a death ride to the hotel. But the driver kept calling me bébé (baby) in that cute Louisiana accent so I forgave him. At one point he asked me, “You aright bébé?” I’m not sure why he asked. Maybe the color had drained from my face, who knows.

During the day I got to hear President George W. Bush speak. I know many people don’t like him and that he’s not the great orator, but I like him and his speech was wonderful. He was humorous, down-to-earth, and spoke from the heart. During his time as President, he led us the best he knew how and stuck to his principles—not bowing to mob mentality or popularity contests. Anyway, it was enjoyable and a great experience.

In the evening I went to Mardi Gras World (yes, this was all “work”). Walking through the warehouse was fun as I got to see some of the floats—big and over the top for sure. After listening to a few songs from the awesome swing band Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, I called it a night. My only regret was that I didn’t have time to get a Po Boy from Mother’s.

That was my third trip to the Cajun city and I chose to skip the whole Bourbon Street experience—been there and am done with that. But the music was great—and I even got to wake up to a CD of New Orleans-inspired music. The cab ride back to the airport was uneventful—thank God. And my little neighbor Cayden was thrilled with the Mardi Gras beads I brought home for him. Let’s just hope that the oil doesn’t ruin the charm of N’Ahlins. They’ve had enough trauma—even for the most laissez-faire among them.