Tag People

Parking Wars

Michael 1 Comment

 

Hello again!  Regular followers following our irregular blog that we routinely post twice a week on Monday and Thursday know that last week we discovered a wealth of topics suggested by the week before Christmas that just can’t wait for a half dozen Christmases to post.  And some of those topics can be discussed in shorter sentences.  So, from then until Christmas you can check us out for our take on the real reality that we keep coming across every day.  You can even go back and read the ones we already posted, or re-read them, or mark them to read later.  And again remember, The Real Reality Show Blog makes a great gift.  It’s absolutely priceless.  We don’t charge a dime!

 

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If there is one thing that we absolutely don’t agree on it is parking.  We can travel thousands of miles together over highways, parkways, back roads, and toll roads for hours at a time and never tire of each other’s company.  But once that trip is over and we have to find a parking space it gets a little stressed.  And during the holiday shopping season when parking lots are filled to overflowing we really get a chance to practice tolerance of one another.  We can agree, disagree, or remain neutral on every other aspect of life from politics to religion to fruitcake but parking is – well, read on.

 

You’d not think the simple act of putting a vehicle away for a while would cause strife but we have very specific ideas of where to park, how to park, what to park next to, and what not to park anywhere near.  He of We is particularly fond of spots in a straight line from the door and with one side protected from other vehicles such as at the end of a row or next to a shopping cart corral.  She of We is happiest when she can pull into a space with another open space directly in front of that one, pull through and avoid backing out when it is time to un-park.  She prefers not to park next to a shopping cart corral.  The end of a row can be tricky.  A row’s end spot offers the one-sided protection he prefers but may be bordered by a raised bed of what’s supposed to be grass or flowers but is usually mud or muck.  This is inevitably on she’s side forcing her to leap muddied waters in a single bound.  He of We is quite happy making a trip down one aisle and up the next in search of a spot that meets his requirements.  She of We spots the most advantageous spot upon entry and heads directly for it.  They are probably all good strategies that might even work together.  But parking time is just not together time for us.  We swoop in getting it done quickly and usually in a spot neither one would select if alone.  Fortunately, we know that as we approach our destination’s door we also approach normalcy and once again we’ll be our usual happy selves. 

 

And it’s not only the act of parking one of our own vehicles that raises ire and eyebrows.  We are quite willing to critique others’ parking practices.  There are as many different methods of parking as there are parkers.  There’s the “The Waiter,” seeking someone loading packages into a parked car, willing to sit in the aisle for as long as it takes for the shopper to load up and move out so he can take that spot.  Even when others are pulling out in two’s and three’s further down the lane, this driver isn’t going to budge.  Closely resembling he who lies in wait is “The Stalker.”  This driver spots someone coming out of the store and follows close behind to claim the spot that will soon be vacated.  Hopefully the shopper isn’t walking all the way home.  Then there is “The Jumping Bean” who pulls into a space, sees someone leaving a spot closer to the store entrance, backs out, drives up, and claims that space.  This can be repeated several times up to and past closing time.  And then there is “Who? Me?”  This opportunistic parker doesn’t wait for a space.  He makes his own spot in the fire lane right next to the store entrance.

 

Who would have thought parking could be such a complex act.  Actually, if you don’t think about it, it isn’t.  But a week before Christmas with spaces at a premium we find ourselves with a lot of time to think while circling the lot looking for any spot available, hoping always for Rockstar Parking.  But that’s a whole different post.

 

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Family Ties

Michael Leave a comment

Today is a special day.  She of We is taking a big step helping her son take control of his own business and continue along his “path of life.”  He of We is watching his daughter graduate from college on her first steps on her “path of life.”  And with just a week before Christmas with cards yet to be done, presents yet to be bought, and cookies yet to be baked, everyone else will have to wait their turn and that’s life.  Families first!

One of the reasons we began this blog was the increasingly ridiculous way reality was depicted on television and the increasingly maddening way normal people were accepting TV reality for real reality.  Where un-retouched perfect people surmounted unscripted unreal obstacles to become unbelievably more perfect every week.  Where families of twenty-eight made your family look like the poster children for dysfunction.  Where nobody seemed to work but everybody seemed to have everything they wanted.  Everybody said they knew those unscripted candid moments were rehearsed and the tear caught in the corner of his/her/their eye was tricky make-up but that’s life.  Fame first!  

But didn’t everybody just envy the heck out of them and want to be just like them?  Well, we didn’t.  And we still don’t. 

We know we aren’t perfect and sometimes our families really can be the poster children for dysfunctional.  And work – sheesh!  But we also know that bad things are always going to be there and we don’t have a script to see how it works out so we better be strong enough to deal with it – that’s life.  We also know that the good stuff really can be so good that it brings tears to our eyes and we better be strong enough to deal with it – that’s life!  So this year, during the most impossible week to stay organized, while work piles up at work, and there’s no way we’ll ever get everything done at home, we’re stopping our worlds for just a bit to celebrate our reality.

Since we aren’t on television we better tell what our reality is like.  There’s laundry to be done and bathrooms to be cleaned.  We go to work at least 5 days a week and we have fun when we can fit it in.  The bills come faster than the money. We get headaches.  There’s never enough time but we always make time.  And today is special day.  Just like tomorrow’s today.  And the today after that.  And that one, too.

What a great Christmas gift.  Anybody know where we can get some wrap to fit that?

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Lights, Camera, Action!

Michael Leave a comment

Hello!  Those who have been regularly following our young blog know that we routinely post twice a week on Monday and Thursday.  Like clockwork.  Ok, sometimes the clock needs its battery changed but we manage to get it done.  We are finding there are so many opportunities to comment on the reality around us during the holiday season that we can’t restrict ourselves to just two more posts before the big day.  Since it is better to give than to sleep, we are giving you more posts! (You can stop chortling now.)  So until Christmas check us out for our take on the real reality that we keep coming across every day.  Or until we run out of ideas.  And remember, the Real Reality Show Blog makes a great gift!

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Yesterday’s wake-up newscast included a story from Fairfax Station, Virginia of a home Christmas display having been vandalized.  This was no ordinary front yard display with ordinary Christmas lights across the gutters.  This display had over 200,000 lights that took over a thousand hours to erect.  We say ‘had’ because some of those lights aren’t there anymore after vandals hopped in their car and drove through the front yard over the display.  Home surveillance video also shows two teenagers knocking over figurines with baseball bats.  On the other side of the world, in Warrnambool, Victoria (Australia) more vandalism played out as lights were ripped out, solar panels broken, and display pieces tossed down the street.  This display was in the planning for a full year and had been a local award winner.

It’s doubtful that this was a planned coordinated attack by the International Christmas Lights Vandals syndicate but a quick check of some other news outlets revealed that this really is a worldwide experience.  In Kingsport, Tennessee lights were cut off a tree in a front yard.  In Lampasas, Texas a municipal display has lights removed and broken daily.  In Coburg, Ontario arrests were made for vandalizing a park display that took 20 volunteers 4 weeks to erect.   In Cambridgeshire, U.K. a Christmas display was targeted twice in three days by vandals.  And outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania an inflatable Grinch was taken from a home display.   

It’s getting bad when even the Grinch isn’t immune to such Grinch-like activity.  But help is out there.  When we did a basic on line search for “Christmas Lights Vandalism” the top return wasn’t any of the above news stories or not even an editorial decrying Christmas vandals as the lowest of the low.  Nope, the first return you get is for an organization that supports home based Christmas displays and offers tips to avoid vandalism.    (They also have tips on how many lights you need to create a landing zone, how to computerize your display, and a killer chocolate and potato chip cookie recipes.  But we digress.)

Our experience with wrecked displays is mostly environmental.  We have home “displays” of plain white lights with a couple of deer and penguins frolicking on a slide.   Throw in a refurbished sled and some garland, a wreath on each house and there you have it.  For us, vandalism is when Mother Nature calls on the North Wind to blow bows off the wreaths and topple a deer.  So it’s hard for us to relate to what one goes through when the human vandals strike.  But we do love driving through the neighborhoods around here to see who’s done what this year and marvel at the work so many put into their outdoor decorations. 

Yesterday ended on a happier note for mega-displayers.  On the local evening newscast there was a story of a young man who has been putting up a computerized lights and music display for several years.  He wasn’t on the news because anyone had taken umbrage with his holiday display.  He was being featured because he keeps a bucket out for donations and every year he targets a charity to reap the generosity of those passing his front yard.  Apparently good can triumph over evil.  By the time we made it to the evening news the disheartening stories of vandalism had been pushed aside by this young man’s altruism. 

A former President might even call him one of a thousand points of lights – Christmas lights, that is.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

You want fries with that?

Michael 2 Comments

Another Saturday night was in full swing.  Even though it was the coldest night since Thanksgiving and one of only two shopping  Saturdays left until Christmas (no, we don’t count Christmas Eve as a shopping day – sheesh!)  the stores were full, the parking lots were full, and . . .  yes, the restaurants were full.  We will wait for almost anything worth that wait – good music, good hockey, good movies, good plays – but food, nope, we just aren’t going to wait for that.  There are too many restaurants with the same offerings to wait 45 minutes at one restaurant when a similar entrée is beckoning you from across the street.  And thus we were led astray by our rumbling tummies and fell into the abyss that was once a stalwart of family dining in our part of the world.

It’s our go-to restaurant when everything else is packed, when we can’t agree on where to go, or when we want that “you’ll never get a bad meal there” and we don’t want “there” to be home.  What it turned out to be was the exception to the rule.  First we got led to a sticky table with a crumb festooned banquette right off the open doorway to the kitchen.  The waitress was quick enough to come for a drinks order but that was the last time we saw her that evening.  No, that’s not true.  We did see her again 20 minutes later when she brought out the drinks.  That was however the last time she brought a correct order to us. It wasn’t a hard order – She of We ordered the meatloaf and He of We was having a pot roast sandwich with fries and gravy over everything.  Fattening, yes.  Difficult, no.  After making the 45 minute wait at the restaurant across the street seem speedy she came out with the correct but quite cold orders.  When she returned for the customary “how is everything?” we told her of our cold food, which by now could have chilled fresh brewed iced tea.  She stormed off in a huff, our former plates balanced precariously on her forearm, declaring “I’m never working a Saturday again!”  After only a moment away she returned again to ask if we wanted our meals re-prepared and simply heated.

To make a long story short, after three more trips to the kitchen, two additional exclamations of “I’m never working on Saturday again!” two visits by the restaurant manager, and an impromptu dance routine just inside the kitchen doorway,  we left with “We’re never going there on a Saturday again.”

But wait, should we strike an otherwise enjoyable rest stop from our list of acceptable establishments because they no longer hire professional waitresses?  Nobody hires professional waiters or waitresses any more.  There seems to be some backlash against professionals in the service industries.  We don’t understand why.  It takes a particular skill to handle a handful of restaurant tables each with a handful of diners even on a not particularly busy night.  The fault isn’t that of the misguided woman who thinks waitressing is a piece of cake.  It’s not even the fault of the manager who hires people who show contempt for their busiest night.  It’s the fault of the people who patronize these restaurants and stores but don’t complain when served up shoddy service.  It’s the fault of those who won’t return on a Saturday night but not tell anyone why.

We think something has to be done.  The only way we are going to get skilled and practiced service is to demand it.  Waiters and waitresses have to understand that if they do a mediocre job they get a mediocre tip.  When asking how everything was at the end of the meal they should expect, and want a critique of their service.  If the service is so bad that the manager is waiving the check, the waitress’s first thought should not be “there goes my tip.”  Managers have to know that the answer to every service complaint is not free dessert.  If a problem means meals will be delayed bring out some appetizers while the delay is happening.  Owners have to know that competent training and honest evaluations go a long way in making an establishment a continued stalwart in the field.   

When confronted with poor service we often ask ourselves what workers at these places expect.  It’s work.  But it’s work that’s been done for years by competent, yet still pleasant professionals.  We say bring them back.  And put them in charge.  And if it means we have to pay a little bit more for the service it will be worth it.

Even just for the meatloaf and a pot roast sandwich with fries and gravy over everything.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Fire Them All

Michael 2 Comments

Those who have spent any amount of time around He of We have heard his plan for workplace efficiency, effectiveness, and cooperation.  Fire them all and start over.  When you spend most of your time at work you want to spend it with people who are efficient, effective, and cooperative.  You wouldn’t think so but sometimes that’s a tall order.

The problem nowadays with many co-workers is that they want to be friends.  That’s not meant to be sounding harsh.  Indeed we should be friendly to our co-workers but not necessarily with them.  They make great acquaintances but when you stop and think about it, pretty lousy friends.

On any given workday we’re probably at work or getting to and from work for over 75% of our waking hours.  That’s a lot of time.  That’s probably why someone had to come up with the phrase “quality time” when you try to explain the type of time you want to be spending with those you love.  Quality, certainly not quantity.  So we want that part of our life to be as stress-free as possible.  No problem, with only a couple hours for close friends and family, where could stress hide?  Oh yeah, that other 75%.

It’s bad enough that sometimes work itself can be stressful.  We’ve managed to work our work lives in work places that we know how to work.  We’ve both been at our respective professions for lots of years and we’ve gotten used to the vagaries of what it is that we do.  There is stress, but it’s not overwhelming.  It expands, deflates, multiplies, settles, mushrooms, and eventually resolves sometimes several times a day, sometimes several times an hour.  But it’s work.  It happens.  And we deal with it.

But the wild card our day, in any workers workday is the dreaded co-worker.  We’re certain they come in a variety pack!  Some really aren’t a bad distraction while you’re trying to start the engines.  There’s the proud parent who starts the day with last night’s game winning free-throw or potty time success (age depending) but then moves on.  There’s the secret shopper who found the greatest buy at the most unusual store on the way home.  A little exasperating but after the first 15 minutes it’s business as usual. 

But then we start encountering the stress builders.  There’s the “Can you help?” worker.  We know he or she wants anything but help.  The help wanted is volunteering to do the whatever.  How easy it is when we’re busy to fall into “it’s easier if I do it myself.”   Mr. (or Ms.) Let-Me-Run-This-Past-You needs our review before it goes out to the boss, customer, or next level review.   Here we encounter two versions. Model #1 is a dolt but knows we’ll get him refocused and he’ll do such a great job (now that he knows what his job is) that he’ll get a bonus, raise, and prime parking space.   Model #2 is actually the model employee but paranoid as all get out and needs our reassurance that everything will be ok.

The most stressful, the dreaded-est of the dreadful is the Work Friend.  This person really takes on the persona of a friend.  Hanging out in the doorway, tales of last night’s life gone wrong, we might have felt honored when it began that this person trusts our opinion.  Then we start remembering the encounters.  There was the quarrels at home, the “did you see how early she left yesterday” comments, the rundown of every meeting the boss had that will result in more work but never more money, the itemization of every penny spent (translated to wasted) by everybody in the office but us two, and the leaky plumbing, noxious fireplace, cracked steps and useless cable company at home.  Each day there’s a new (or not so new) concern, a new worry in his or her life that we’re now going to solve and move on.  This person isn’t looking for a friend.  This person is looking for free therapy!

Do you want to be a good co-worker?  Come in, smile, say good day, bring a surprise once in a while (donuts are good), keep your conversations bright and have them in the lunch room, and do your job.  Learn your job.  When you want help, ask with the intention of actually learning a new how to.  Remember, it’s a job, it’s not supposed to be the happiest time of your day.  Learn a little workplace etiquette and when you get home your quality time will have meaning and you won’t need our help getting through life.  And then our quality time will be better and maybe we won’t mind so much the occasional detour to the therapist’s office.  Just not every day!

It beats the heck out of starting over every couple years.  And you know how HR hates it when you fire them all at once.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

You Get What You Pay For

Michael Leave a comment

Around here every summer there is a one day outdoor jazz festival and a weekend long blues festival.  Quite often there are on consecutive weekends.  This year they were on the same weekend.  We hate to miss either since jazz and blues are two of our three favorite genre, the third being almost everything else.  We also hate to miss either because they are free.  Sort of.  The jazz festival is free if you bring a donation for the local food bank.  The blues festival’s first night is also free with a donation to the same food bank.

Around here a lot is “free.”  Just in the past year we’ve gotten free discount coupon books (for a blood donation), had two free glasses of wine (for a donation to the local cancer society), had a free buffet (for a donation to a local hospital), saw a free movie (another blood donation), and sat through a free evening of songs by two of the best vocalists between the Atlantic and the Pacific (another donation to fight cancer).

Here’s the funny thing about these “free” events.  Somewhere between the giving and the getting, we found a great blues band, some excellent wine, a couple dynamite appetizer recipes, an up and coming jazz trumpeter,  a new passion for Saturday matinees, and two of the best vocalists between the Atlantic and the Pacific. 

There were even some truly “free” events we stumbled across.  Summer evening movie nights in the local park, big band concerts at the county park, free skate at an outdoor ice rink to celebrate the season, access to that 400+ mile bike path that rolls through 3 states and the District of Columbia, a drive along the back roads through the dappled sunshine in an open convertible.   Oh, one way or another we paid for these – from taxes to gasoline, nothing is really free.  Is it?  No matter how you look at it, if it didn’t involve the transfer of folding money from a pocket to an outstretched hand to us it’s free and free is a pretty good price.

Another thing free is, free is an opportunity to see more of the person you’re sharing free with.  You know that sometime during the event one of you will turn to the other and say, not too shabby … considering what we paid.  And from there a whole conversation ensues about the event, the venue, the surroundings, the other participants, the planners, the doers.  You soon find yourself quite engrossed in each other’s observations and each other’s opinions, and each other’s memories, and each other.  So engrossed you don’t really care why you are there, just that you are there.  And that “you” is plural.

Whether the beneficiaries were those who rely on the food bank to make it from meal to meal or us recharging our batteries joy riding from there to here, there’s a different word that describes all this free stuff. 

It’s not free.  It’s priceless.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Clean Up on Aisle Ten

Michael 3 Comments

She called last weekend.  It was the first weekend in November and She was out shopping in one of our favorite stores.  Yes, it was a remainder store.  Hey, we love ‘em.  Remainder stores, dollar stores, restock stores.  The place that goods that won’t die go to be bargains.

But I digress…She called Him and said it was close to an international incident.  While shopping in one of our favorite stores she encountered others that one would have thought were shopping.  And they may have been shopping but what was very evident was that they were also shouting.  Yes, shouting from one side of the store to the other in some foreign tongue, something not easily identifiable but foreign for sure.  Did the fact that they knew that probably nobody in the store knew their language give these shouters license to intrude on the other shoppers’ shopping Zen?

At first it was somewhat alarming.  When you don’t know the language you don’t know if a shout is an expression of shopping joy over finding Anne Klein at 95% off or a scream of alarm about a raging inferno in women’s outerwear.  But it kept going on so it seemed more conversational.  Just your basic conversation between two parties who had lost their cell phones.  At a loud volume.  Very loud.

And that’s when the potential international incident raised its head.  After 5 or 6 volleys between the screamers She couldn’t take it.  “Geez!  A little store etiquette!”  She was annoyed, and not too quiet about it.

And that got us on our digression –annoying shopping things.  It was the first week of November.  Halloween had just passed.  Veterans’ Day was not yet here.  Thanksgiving wasn’t even on the shopping list.  But as early as it is the store – a leftovers shop! – was in full Christmas regalia complete with Silver Bells, White Christmas, and Rudolph’s red nose playing on the intercom.  At that high volume that gets you right in the comfort zone screaming Christmas is coming!  Shop now because the bargains you see today won’t be here tomorrow!!  Buy early!!! Buy often!!!! Buy, buy, buy!!!!!  It had that hidden message behind music just a little too loud and a little too fast that says get shopping, get spending, now go home and make room for others!  And if the subliminal message isn’t enough they have to punctuate it every 12 minutes with their in-store announcements.  “Attention shoppers, buy now because the bargains you see today might not be here tomorrow!  See the specials in aisle one through 14.  Stop at our service desk for a flyer of everything that’s on sale!  Today only, everything is on sale!”

And is it only us that when we work our way up to the cashier we’re greeted in 21st century cashier monotone, “hellohowareyoudidyoufindeverythingyouwerelookingfor” while he/she/to be determined scans the first 8 items.  When we hand over our cash how do we get our change?  Bills first, coins sliding off the top, and a very heartfelt “There you go.”  When did “There you go” become synonymous with “Thank you!”  Listen up cashiers, the phrase you’re looking for is “Thank you!” (Emphasis added.)

Some annoyances we expect, some are new every year, but know that we’re entering the annoying zone, and we’ll all be stuck here for the next eight weeks. 

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Trick, Treat, Really

Michael Leave a comment

A funny thing happened this year on Halloween.  It rained.  We still sat out in the driveway handing out treats to the little ones (and some bigger ones) that braved the elements for a free peanut butter cup.  But that rain kept some of the smarter ones indoors, knowing there’d be a Halloween next year.

The cool thing about sitting out in the driveway on Halloween is that you get up close and personal with the treaters.  You get to see them in their natural element – the costumed herd …pack? …covey?  They spread out in front of you.  You aren’t forced to see them in that single file parade as they squeeze into your open doorway.  You see the parents who are brave enough to walk up the driveway with the young ones.  You get to wave to the parents who are brave enough to let their young ones walk up to you alone.  You get to hear the kids talk and sometimes say more than “Trick or Treat…Hot Tamales! Cool…Love your costumes.”  Did we mention we get dressed up to sit on the driveway?  (Actually at least one of us gets dressed up and goes to work like that all day.  It’s a thing, what can I say.  But not the funny thing.

The funny thing that happened on Halloween was that it rained.  Yes it rained and the treaters weren’t in their usual droves.  They more or less sputtered.  There would be a small herd(?) of them, then a pause.  Then there would be mini pack(?) of them, then a pause. There would be… you get the idea.  Lots of time to sit in the rain at the top of the driveway, under the tent (we might be a little nuts but we aren’t crazy), watching the world go by.  And what did we notice as the world went by?  Where are all the cool costumes?

We don’t mean the portable blow up with its own battery operated fan sumo wrestler costume.  We don’t mean the matching Bam Bam and Pebbles costumes.  We don’t mean the hot dog or the M&M or the Darth Vader.  We mean the really cool ones.  The ones you and your parents made yourselves when you were 10 and you didn’t have all the imagination sucked out of you by the most recent computer game.  You remember them – the bunch of grapes made out of purple balloons and a hunk of green fabric for the stem.  Maybe a radio made out of a cardboard box the size of a small refrigerator that you couldn’t hold a treat bag when you had it on but you wore it anyway.  You just made your best friend who you couldn’t go trick or treating without carry your bag.  Or how about the year you spread ashes over your face, called it a beard, found your dad’s oldest lawn mowing shirt, got some jeans, and went as a hobo.  Today you’d be chased down the street by a TV crew doing a future award winning special on the cruelty of children making fun of our homeless brethren.  Back then that was just cool.

No imagination any more.  But the kids come by it honestly.  After a couple hours sitting in the rain (under our tent) we hauled everything into the garage, freshened up our costumes, and headed out to the corner tavern for a round of appetizers and an adult beverage.  What did we find?  Three other couples.  None in costume.  Fourth year running.  On the only day of the year that we are encouraged to be somebody else nobody wanted to.  Bet there were a lot of people at work the next day wishing they were anybody else.  Take a couple minutes once a year to be somebody else.  You’ll be better at who you are for it.

That’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?