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Six Weeks

Michael 2 Comments

Happy Groundhog Day!  For over 225 years Phil has been the reigning prognosticator of Punxsutawney Pennsylvania perusing his property for signs of his shadow to predict the waning winter’s weather.

What began as an adaptation of Candlemas for the local farmers not too distantly removed from their German homeland now brings an estimated 30,000 people to the Pennsylvania home of Punxsutawney Phil for 4 days of planned events highlighted by the shadow sighting on national news broadcast across our homeland. 

Now here we could tell you all the different things one can do in Phil’s little hamlet.  Who will be playing, singing, dancing, and crafting.  We could guess how many television cameras will be in use.  We could compare the last 2, 5, 10, 25, 100, 150, or 200 predictions and the actual results.  We could talk about the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club or The Inner Circle.  But really, you don’t need to hear from us if last year’s prediction was on the money or how much money the park vendors made. 

Nope, we’re just going to marvel at all that has become of our little rodent friend and all of his friends living in the sunny or shadowy mountains on the edge of the Allegheny National Forest.  Phil has his own official souvenir web-site.  The Inner Circle (those are the guys who pull him from the stump, we mean help him from his hollow) have an annual formal ball.  There are 60 chapters of the Groundhog Club from California to Florida and chapters in Canada, England, and Iraq.  There’s even an Internet chapter.  (The Bluegrass Chapter of Louisville, Kentucky was chartered on Feb. 2 2002, that’s 02-02-02.  There’s a lottery number waiting to be played!)  Other than the iconic “Groundhog Day” movie there isn’t much in the way of multimedia for our little friend but we did find 5 songs celebrating Groundhog Day including “Groundhog Blues” by John Lee Hooker. 

Unlike Candlemas in the 17th century we really don’t need Groundhog Day to tell us if we’re almost done with winter and can breathe a sigh of relief over our dwindling food and firewood supply or if the cold will stay with us for another 6 weeks and challenge our larder.  Groundhog Day in the 21st century is a time when grown men dress in formal attire and play with field animals, when people gather to figure out just how long Phil Conners (Bill Murray’s character in “Groundhog Day”) was stuck in Punxsutawney, when people get married in Phil’s Wedding Chapel  by the mayor of Punxsutawney (weddings on the half-hour, call ahead to get on the schedule), when it’s ok to be seen in public with a hat on your head that looks like a groundhog emerging from a tree stump.

It’s a time when it’s perfectly acceptable not to take yourself too seriously.  And we could probably use six more weeks of that.

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

 

Your Turn to Keep Score

Michael 3 Comments

This morning there was a story on the morning TV news about a shooting that killed a teenager, put his aunt in the hospital, and superficially wounded his grandmother.  Truly tragic and something that happens far too frequently.   Later in the afternoon She of We called to He of We and asked if he heard the story about the shooting last night.  Who got shot?  In the morning paper the teen had still been killed but now the grandmother was in the hospital and the aunt was treated and released.

One of the first printed reports of Friday’s cruise ship accident off the Italian coast said the ship was “three quarters underwater and sinking fast.”  Four sentences later a statement attributed to Coast Guard officials said “the liner was listing at 20 degrees but was not in danger of sinking.”

Death always surpasses imprecisions on the accuracy meter, and our sympathies to those who lost loved ones in urban violence and vacations gone very badly.  This is not a rant about who spelled what wrong or which homonym was misused today.

But we have to admit our first question to ourselves was, what is more important, getting it right, or getting a headline?  While we were batting that one about we think we may have come across the bigger problem.  It’s not an issue with incorrect reporting.  It’s not an issue with inaccurate editing.  It’s much more pervasive.  It goes back to “everyone’s a hero.”

Let us explain.  How long has it been since the fashion became that little leagues no longer keep score?  That everybody bats every inning?  That every youth gymnastic tournament participant goes home with a trophy? How long has it been since we started instilling in our young people that there are no losers?  Long enough that those children are now young adults writing for our newspapers and web-sites and anchor people.  Long enough that they are also our young firemen, and nurses, and building inspectors.  Long enough that they will soon be our doctors and lawyers.  Long enough that someday they will be running for Congress, President, and your local school board.

Are you young enough, and were you naïve enough to allow your children to believe that there is no winning or losing?  If so, what did you tell your son at his first major league baseball game when the home team lost and the beer soaked fan in the row behind you expressed his displeasure?  What did you tell your daughter when she watched the Olympics for the first time and asked why the gymnasts were crying?  Petty issues?  Perhaps.  But life isn’t all winning.  Once a child is old enough to stand he’s old enough to fall down.  Doesn’t he deserve the courtesy of being told he might?

What do you tell yourself when a group of teens knocks on a door and shoots a child of 16 and a firefighter at the scene is quoted “There’s been a lot of stupid stuff going on?”  How do you reconcile the captain going down with the ship in the movie but going to safe harbor in a life boat in real life?  Once a child is old enough to stand he’s old enough to be pushed over.  Doesn’t he deserve the guidance of being told how to avoid it?

What do you tell the world when the world extrapolates one with no winners or losers to one with no right or wrong?  Have we created that world of harmony for our now young adults by taking the pressure of winning off them when they were our young children?  Or have we created a world of discord for our now young adults – a world where they are unprepared for conflict, discipline, and getting things right because they never had to as young children?  We can’t be outraged at a teen who takes losing so badly that he has to shoot others when we never taught him how to be a gracious winner.   

If you didn’t keep score then, you can’t be an umpire now.

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

 

With Three You Get Collections

Michael 1 Comment

Where does a collection end and an obsession begin?  For that matter, where does a collection begin?  We believe that with two you have a spare.  With three you have a collection.   Webster prefers not to be so specific, calling a collection a mass or a pile, as in “that’s a pile of money you have there” if someone was to describe your twenty dollar bill collection.  But why do we even care?

In the news this weekend was the report that someone paid $1.38 million (a pile of money, for sure) for a penny.  It bears mentioning that it was a penny minted in 1793 and it was all copper.  Ok, it bears most mentioning that it was minted in 1793 but the news people all seemed a bit obsessed with it being copper, too.  That penny came up in our discussion over brunch and that’s why we care.

Those shows on television that claim to be reality shows (unlike this very blog you are reading that we know is the real reality show), might like to lead viewers to believe that finding a million dollar penny is no harder than breaking into your piggy bank, blowing the dust of the pennies that appear to be all copper, make up a good story to go with one, and drop it off at the local pawn shop.  If that doesn’t work, go bid on a storage shed that has been ignored by its renter for long enough to get on the “sell for rent” list and you will certainly find at least one million dollar penny, probably 3 or 4, taped to the inside of a clarinet case underneath the felt covering.  They’ll also tell you that if you don’t find that million dollar penny and you keep buying up clarinet cases looking for it, and you keep all the empty clarinet cases in the kitchen piled so high that you can’t get to your trash compactor, all it takes is a weekend with some assertive relatives and a professional organizer (household, not union), and you too can avoid eviction, commitment, or both.

But we digress…

She of We asked why somebody would pay so much for something that, at face value, is only worth one cent.  He of We cautioned her that she has art hanging on her wall for which somebody paid much more than face value if face value is calculated by the cost of canvas and paint.  It’s in the beauty of it.  It gives her joy to look at.  And there is the reason.  Beauty and joy trump face value every time.

The collecting game is probably not terribly rational.  There are many this weekend who are questioning the sanity of that unidentified buyer of the 1793 penny and his $1.38 million bid.  Both of We have several collections and in their entirety they don’t cost $1.38 million.  In their entirety they may not cost more than the computer you are using to read these words.  Yet there are still some people who may question the sanity of spending even just a few dollars for one more Mr. Potato Head, one more holiday inspired animated hat, or one more miniature version of a 1960’s era full size toy.  Some may question putting our risk of insanity in the same category of one who spends well over $1 million on a single coin as somewhat ambitious.  Then again, some people may consider putting a pile of hats that sing and move up and down in the same category as a coin collection is in itself pretty ambitious.

What is a collection?  Encarta gets a little more verbose than Webster and is willing to state that a collection is a set of objects held for its interest, value, or beauty.  So what is the value of that 1793 penny?  One cent?  $1.38 million?  It’s been said the value of any object is how much somebody is willing to pay for it, yet its worth is how much somebody wants for it.  Rarely are worth and value equal.  If our collections actually cost what we feel they are worth, they would far exceed our ability to pay for them, thus lowering their value to us.  But it is because we place such worth on these objects that give us so much joy that they are so valuable to us.

Yes, a collection is interesting and beautiful and valuable.  And not at all rational.  And just a little obsessive.  But perfectly sane.  If we didn’t covet those things of beauty that give us such joy, why would we want anything?  Is it crazy to spend $1.38 million for a coin?  Is it crazy to spend $20 for a hat that plays “The Stars and Stripes Forever?”  The answer to both is yes.  But neither is the question.  The question is, what is it worth to look upon what you have and say you wanted it, you looked for it, you found it, you got it, and you like having it for the joy that it brings you?  It’s worth more than all the money in the world.  It truly is priceless.

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

 

Mail Call

Michael Leave a comment

Late last week He of We had a horrible revelation – the Christmas cards!  The writing, the signing, the addressing, the stamping.  So much to do and none of it done!  But, even with the distressing press the United States Postal Service had been putting out, He of We was (yes, was) still a firm believer in the mail system.  They will get the cards through even if they are posted a tad later than usual.

The post office really has been taking it pretty hard lately. And a lot of the criticism has come from inside.  Now, we still believe that even at twice the price of today’s First Class postage, mail is a bargain.  For under a buck, under half-a-buck you can mail a letter on the east coast and have it get all the way to the west coast in a couple of days.  And people look forward to getting cards and letters.  Not everything has to be as immediate as e-mail.  And not everything should be as impersonal as e-mail.  Yep, cards, letters, and even bills belong in the good old-fashion, first class stamped, real mail.  However. . .

That was last week.  This week is a different story.  On Monday there was no mail.  No real mail.  Lots of junk mail.  And delivered very early.  So early one might wonder if there had been any sorting going on for that day.  Probably just a coincidence that even between Thanksgiving and Christmas a mail delivery day would go by with no personal mail being delivered.  But on Tuesday it was a banner day.  Ten pieces of real mail delivered.  Real mail, mail someone had to put into an envelope and affix postage.  Ten pieces.  Unfortunately only 6 pieces belonged at He of We’s address.  Of the other four, one belonged on the same street several houses down, two belonged in the same neighborhood 2 and 4 streets away respectively, and one was for a different ZIP code.  (Trivia time – what does the ZIP in ZIP code stand for?)  And then Wednesday came and again, not a single piece of personal mail.  Hmm.

Is this the way the USPS wants to be remembered while nightly news shows broadcast stories of cutting services, then not cutting services, then delaying first class mail, then no changes until Congress has a chance to turn down their request for additional funding.  Is someone trying to make a point? 

Christmas still is the biggest mail delivery period.  Mother’s Day gets more cards and probably weighs down more letter carriers for a single day, but for a 3 to 4 week period you can’t beat Christmas for being the tops in mail holidays.  You’d think this is when the service would want to shine.  This is when you’d expect to sit down to the evening news and hear how the USPS has set another record in mail tonnage moved over the shortest time for the most reasonable rates.  This is when you expect to walk into a post office and find at least one counter rep wearing a Santa hat – willingly. 

This is the most wonderful time of the year – and we have songs that say so!  It shouldn’t be the time you sort your mail with “one for me, one for the guy next door, one for me, one for little boy who lives down the lane, one for me, one for the guy who lives in the next town.”

We’re certain that the one day the mail was 40% wrong was just a fluke.  But just in case, we’re delivering our letter carriers’ gifts personally.

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?

For Your Protection

Michael Leave a comment

Not long ago, She of We remodeled the bathroom in her house.  The bathtub was still in good shape but dingy.  Rather than replace a good strong cast iron tub with a new and improved cheap imitation she had the tub refinished.  When the work was done the refinisher presented her with the warranty and list of “don’ts.”  High on the list was not to use a specific array of cleaning products.  If she failed to heed this warning, her actions would (ominous music, please) void the warranty.  It made sense.  It’s a process to refinish a bathtub.  Acrylics, bonders, polymers and other magic stuff went into making a 60 year old cast iron tub look new and improved.  And it’s an expensive process.  If one of those bonders or polymers or other-ers came loose and the finish became unfinished it would be just as expensive to refinish it all over again.  That is good advice, there for her protection, and a good warranty. 

As the project moved on, new mirrors and floor and fixtures found their way to the remodeled space.  When all the rest of the pieces were in place the plumber presented her with, among other things, instructions for the toilet.  Don’t use any cleaning solutions in it or you will (once again please, some ominous music) void the warranty.  Good advice for the — for the what?  Toilet?  We aren’t speaking of the valve that lets water in or the flush mechanism that lets water out.  Toilets don’t even come with those necessities.  You buy them separately.  We’re speaking of the white thing upon which you sit.  After you buy a seat.  They don’t come with those either. 

That big white thing that takes up a whole corner of the room – the throne, the chair, the real man’s recliner – has a warranty.  And in order to preserve it you cannot use toilet cleaners in the toilet.  We have to ask, with what does one clean a toilet if not with toilet cleaners.  You would certainly want to clean a toilet every now and then.  Wouldn’t you?  We do.  But wait yet another minute.  A warranty?  From what?  One would think if a toilet did not hold up its end of the bargain and hold up he or she while he or she is…well, if the toilet broke and that person crashed to the floor, the warranty would be the last thing that the state attorney general or consumer affairs commissioner or whomever would handle the complaint would request to act upon the complaint.

There once was a day when warranties weren‘t commonplace for everything from toilets to shampoo.   There once was a day when workmanship was so good nobody thought of a warranty.  It just worked.  Even toilets.  No, that toilet warranty isn’t there for her protection.  That warranty is there for the protection of the company that realized it has created a new and improved cheap imitation of what once was genuine and solid needing neither newness nor improvement.  If it was any good the manufacturer would have hung a tag on it that reads, “Good luck with your new toilet.  It will give you years of enjoyment.  If you have any problems, give us a call.”  Instead the manufacturer tries to impress the purchaser with promises that it will repair or replace any defective part that one can prove was a defect in manufacturing and not subsequent handling including transportation and installation and that no mishandling after installation up to and including cleaning with cleaning solutions has occurred.  Words we never thought would accompany a toilet purchase.

Our advice to you if you find yourself in a similar situation is to clean the toilet.  It’s for your protection.

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