Lunch With the CEO

All morning long that quote from the movie Office Space kept replaying in my head, “Uh-oh. Sounds like somebody’s got a case of the Mondays.” I’m almost certain you’ve encountered a “case of the Mondays” regardless of the day of week. You sit down at your desk ready to conquer a plethora of projects only come to find out the data you’ve been working with seems to be a miss. You discover the error, realizing you’ve wasted valuable time. Luckily you can just re-run the data sequence and begin again, only problem is you can’t remember your password to log into the system and no one is answering at the IT Help Desk.

The rest of my day continued that way and by the time 2 o’clock rolled around I was in desperate need of a mental break. I grabbed my lunch and headed to the break room where the television was tuned to CNN. Since no one else was around I began flipping through the channels looking for something a bit more mindless. I soon came across “Everybody Loves Raymond,” a sitcom about a Long Island family that my college roommate and I used to watch. The episode had only just started and as I began to relax and enjoy my lunch in walked the CEO. She set her takeout box down on a table nearby and strolled right up to the TV and began pressing buttons. I thought for sure she was going to change the channel back to the depressing all news station. In that very short instant my whole opinion of her was about to change.

But to my great surprise she increased the volume as she turned to face me saying she was in need of a little entertainment. I quickly explained that we were on the exact same page, “a case of the Mondays” on it was Tuesday. We enjoyed the rest of the show together, mostly in silence except for the occasional comment and the sound of laughter. I felt comforted knowing that someone else at the office was having a tough day. The experience also reminded me that we are not just individual silos, but rather that we are all interconnected in some form or another.

Rosewood Walls and Wallowing in My Own Guilt

I got nervous when I looked down at my cell phone to see that it was my mother calling.  It was Monday afternoon and she rarely ever calls me during the day.  I thought for sure she must have seem my Facebook pictures from the weekend bachelorette party I’d planned for a girlfriend and that she was surely calling to scold me.  I know I’m much too old for any kind of punishment, but I still quickly hit silent, grasping the phone tightly in my right hand.  I waited what seemed like two minutes for my phone to vibrate alerting me to a new voicemail.

And when it did, I prepared myself for the worse.  She was going to be so upset with me thinking her only daughter has turned into some kind of binge drinker though the photos on Facebook did not convey such.  Yet I was sure she would read too much into each picture and say something like, “Dear, please tell me you don’t really behave like that?”

There was no way I could go about my day without immediately listening to her voicemail.  I took a deep breath as a knot began to form in my stomach.  I was certain the rest of my day would be spent forming an apology and trying to explain that the pictures weren’t really as bad as she thought they looked.  Yet a small part of me thought, just don’t listen to the voicemail until later, but my curiosity got the better of me and before I knew it, I was listening to my mother’s voice.  

It sounded sad, even a bit disappointed as she described how she had spent the day painting the kitchen a dark shade of rosewood, quite a contrast to the light-colored wallpaper that had adorned the walls over the past 14 years.  I immediately felt a combination of guilt and relief.  Guilt for having been so selfish to have not thought of anyone elses’ feeling, but my own and relieved that she wasn’t calling to discuss my evening on the town as depicted on Facebook.

In the end her voicemail message left me feeling flattered.  She and I have grown so close that she was calling me in the middle of the day so I could reassure her that no matter what color the kitchen walls were that everything was going to be okay.  And it was and still is. And I can’t help but smile when I think what close friends we’ve become.

The Text Message Train Has Rolled Through Town Again

After nearly 3 months of no text messaging, I’m back on the texting train or perhaps I should say I’ve fallen off the wagon.  I’m using again, text messages that is.  Regardless, I’ve again embraced the convenience of a quick text to get an address of a restaurant or to confirm plans with friends.

I must admit, I still prefer phone calls.  I enjoy hearing the voice of the person on the other end, their inflection and tone, and their laughter.  You certainly can’t get that with a text message.  In fact you’re more likely to misinterpret the message or miss it’s meaning completely. 

Error on the side of making a phone call, it’s a lot less effort, but much more powerful.  Still can’t decide if text messaging is the way to go? Read “To Text or Not to Text” by Hannah.

A Step Ahead of My New Year’s Resolution

In an attempt to make and actually stick to my New Year’s resolution, I thought why not start before the big rhinestone encrusted ball drops in Time Square.  So three days ahead of schedule I did the deed and the minute I hung up the phone with my cell phone provider I felt a wave of panic come over me as I intently stared at my phone knowing it will now only ring with the sound of phone calls. There will be no more text or picture messages. I’m nervous. What if certain, unnamed people stop contacting me all together, but wait isn’t that the point, to get rid of the dead weight in my life?

Plus I can remain proactive and always call those people who are important to me. The other night I updated my Facebook status one last time, informing my friends of the digital divide that I have now erected. I’ve also relinquished control of my Facebook and instant messenger passwords to trusted third party. Safe keeping I like to call it. Honestly, I’m not sure I have the will power to stay away on my own. Now I don’t have a choice.

I still feel anxious about this experiment. I’m a people person and a busy body who is always on the go. I need to be constantly connected, always networking and maintaining relationships. Maybe part of the problem is not everyone is reciprocating. I’m driving down a one-way street and yet I keep expecting to see another car’s headlights coming towards me.

Furthermore, I was spending $15 a month just on text messages. Do the math, that’s 180 bucks a year. That’s a brand new pair of shoes or the price of a one-way ticket to the Windy City, though I’m not sure I’m cut out for that climate. It does, however, put things into perspective. Plus I’d hate to think of the countless hours I’ve racked up on FB reading updates from people I hardly even speak to anymore. What will I do with all this new found free time?

Defriend, Declutter and Don’t Text

I recently read an article in The New York Times about two high school seniors who decided it was time for a Facebook hiatus.  Their main reason for stepping away from the social networking site, they spent too much time obsessing about it. 

While I do agree Facebook can result in much time wasted, my own reasons for quitting cold turkey are quite different.  I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of hangers-on. You know you have those kinds of “friends” too.  Text BFFs if you will.  They’re the type of people you call, leave a VM, and they text you back. Y ou haven’t hung out with the person for ages and more than likely they have no idea what’s really going on in your world.

They’re dead weight, dragging you down, and adding little or no value to your daily existence. You know you need to get rid of them, but for some reason you keep allowing them to stick around, a lot like those last 5 pounds you can’t seem to lose.  These hangers-on do provide some temporary amusement, but you know they’d never have your back if you really needed them.

So in an attempt to rid my life of these “friends,” I’m not just saying farewell to Facebook, I’m also giving text messaging the boot and while I’m at it instant messenger can take the next express train to can’t be bothered town.  I will communicate through emails and phone calls only. Don’t worry I’ve got plenty of minutes to go around and even more time to spend one on one with those who had value to my life. 

With the New Year just around the bend, I’m hoping to begin again, with a brand new start.

Let Sit Before Removing Cork. A Review of Lightning in a Bottle

Originally published in the Philadelphia Arts Writer, Volume 2, Issue5.

 

I’m sitting comfortably in my seat at the Ritz Five and before too long I feel as though I’m a member of the audience at Radio City Music Hall in New York City. Even though I’m not all that familiar with the sound of the blues, I decided that a concert movie might be the best way for me to experience this newly discovered genre of music. And discover it oh I did, so much so, that I nearly began clapping after the very first song. It was an African spiritual performed by Angelique Kidjo, a native of that continent. So whether you’re new to the sound of the blues or an aficionado of sorts, seeing Lightning in a Bottle (Vulcan, 2004) is well worth making a trip to the theater. Don’t bother trying to read up on the music’s history or perform a Google search to find out the most influential artists. Instead, grab a friend who enjoys music and head to the theater

Lightning in a Bottle captures a night of more than fifty blues artists performing at Radio City Music Hall. Each song is presented in a dramatic and historical context. But this isn’t like one of those documentaries produced by NOVA or the History Channel.

Director Antoine Fuqua uses an array of techniques to capture the night’s magic. He incorporates backstage footage, which gives the audience more of a feel for who the artists really are — old friends greeting one another and reminiscing about the past. Backstage Diva Ruth Brown describes the blues as a way for a man to vent his feelings instead of crying. Brown along with Natalie Cole and Mavis Staples sing, Men are Like Street Cars to comical Bill Cosby on stage. Archival clips, interviews and rehearsals weave together the history and passion of the blues. One of the most memorable clips is an interview with a blues artist, Son House. He describes the blues as existing between a male and a female in love. With that definition of two people in love, most of us have probably experienced the blues hands down.

This isn’t just a recorded concert but a story of the suffering and triumph of blues musicians. Jim Crow Laws, a song about the struggles of segregation, is powerful enough to move both theater and music hall audiences. Moviegoers aren’t just passive observers, but they become part of the show. At times, I found myself tapping my feet. The concert features such familiar faces as Macy Gray, Bonnie Raitt and Steven Tyler. And no tribute to the blues would be complete without the legendary B.B. King. Even though King is nearly eighty years old, the man still has the energy to put on a show.

Music producer Steve Jordan has said that blues is a simple beat that can captivate an audience. Captivating is just what this concert movies is. Think of it as a historical and geographical journey, which crosses not only continents but also generations and genres. It’s like going to a live concert, but without the set changes or awful ringing in your ears.

Surviving Single in the City

It’s difficult enough navigating the hardware store alone or attempting to install a window air conditioning unit. But no need to fret ladies. Assembled here you’ll find a list of household items, you likely already own, to help you survive as a single in the big city. Plus, these tips will hopefully save you a bit of time and money, commodities we could all use a little more of.

Don’t have time to get your jewelry clean? Then let Colgate or Crest come to the rescue. Dab a pea size amount of toothpaste in the palm of your hand and rub over jewelry until completely covered. Rinse with warm water and dry with a clean towel or cloth.

Got household pests, like ants, that are unwilling to pay their share of the rent? Just grab a bottle of oven cleaner and spray the affected area. Allow foam to settle for 5 minutes and wipe away with a paper towel. Be careful not to spray near food prep areas or on delicate surfaces like linoleum flooring and aluminum.

Hairspray is not just for locking in those curls on a windy day. It also works wonders on ink stained clothes. Spray stained area and allow to sit for a half hour before washing.

Just because you’re no longer sneaking home late at night anymore doesn’t mean you should have to live with a squeaky door. Instead head to the kitchen and fill an eye dropper with olive oil. Gently dispense olive oil over the door hinges on both the inside and outside of the door. Wipe away any excess olive oil. Repeat the process again until door is squeak free.

It’s 8:30 am and you’re running late for an important client meeting when you snag you’re nylons. Simply fetch a bottle of clear nail polish and paint over each end of the runner. Allow to dry and voilà the snag is stopped in its tracks. As for impressing your new client, that’s up to you.

As for surviving the dating world, we recommend a healthy dose of skepticism and an optimistic outlook.

A Second Date?

I over heard a stranger on the bus chatting away to whom I assumed was one of her close girlfriends. She’d apparently been on three dates with the same guy now and was contemplating what they should do on the next one. “One, two, three dates and now this will be the fourth and maybe a fifth, but what are we doing, where is this going,” she blurted into the phone.

I found it somewhat ironic that of all the seats on the bus I had sat down next to her as I feverishly texted my best girlfriend wondering why my latest beau hadn’t phoned for a second date. It’d been nearly a week. When I insisted my phone must be broken, she called me to ask a few simple questions. First, did I have a good time on the date? Of course, he was nice enough, super funny and quite handsome. Two, did I enjoy the meal we shared? Again my reply was an affirmative.  And lastly she asked me, how much at this point had I really invested? Very little was my reply.

She concluded the conversation by saying then it didn’t really matter if he ever called again. I had, had a nice time, hadn’t lost much since I didn’t really invest anything and overall had little to worry about.  I reluctantly agreed with her and hung up the phone.

As for the girl beside me on the bus…I’m not too sure the outcome of her conversation since I had become too wrapped up in my own to notice. She soon got off the bus as I rode on for several more stops pondering the upcoming dateless weekend.

Invisible to the Outside World

I’m accident prone, this much is true.  I mean there was the time I went skiing and broke my nose when a misguided T-bar collided with my face or how about when I was thirteen years old and throw a rotten corn cob at my younger brother causing a bone chip in my right elbow.

And this morning…was no exception. I stepped off the bus at 23rd and Chestnut, my usual stop, only to find myself sprawled out on the curb. I’m not sure what was more shocking the fact that I fell or that no one seemed to notice.

Somehow the heel of my brown suede boot got caught in the hem of my wool jacket causing me to lose my balance as I stepped off the bus. Before I knew it, I was laying half on the sidewalk, half in the street.

Luckily, I managed to avoid being run over by the bus as I attempted to yank my boot free. I heard the tear of fabric as I stood up, dusted myself off and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. I was mortified and though no one came to my rescue I’m sure people noticed

No Customer Service Number

It’s the utility company again and they insist that I have an unpaid gas bill. I find that hard to believe since I’m the analycital type. In fact I still balance my check book each month when the statement arrives in the mail. You may laugh, but I blame it on the fact that my mother is a former bank employee and that she still keeps the books for my father’s business. But I digress.

So I’m quite sure I’ve paid this bill. In fact I’ve been using MyCheckFree.com mainly because the utility company’s website is abysmal. The CheckFree website is a one stop online billing payment website. It neatly keeps track of all you bills

Well for the last few months now I’ve had and outstanding gas bill totaling $94.41. Don’t get me wrong I’ve been late on payments before, but I’ve never out right missed one, well at least that I can remember.

“It’s come to this, has it?” I say aloud to myself. Frankly, I’m not really sure where to begin. Should I call the utility company’s customer service line and try to square away the disputed bill or call the CheckFree vendor? Either option sounds painful, anticipating that I’ll be on hold for at least 15 minutes before I’m able to speak to a warm body.

I’m like Pavlov’s dog, conditioned by years of poor customer service, impatient cashiers with no manners and over bearing salesmen. I search the Checkfree website for a 1-800 phone number with no luck. Now I’m suddenly suspicious of the website and the sensitive information I’ve given them. But I come across a text box that says. “Questions? Chat with us live.”

Looks like this is my only option. I’m hesitant and would rather be on hold knowing there are only 79 other callers a head of me.  As I click on the icon, a small instant message window opens and almost immediately a customer service representative, by the name of Edith, has introduced herself and asks how she can help me. We “chat” about the outstanding bill and she resolves the issue in seconds. Her grammar and punctuation are flawless and the tone seems so polite. I’m pleasantly surprised by the exchange and quite enjoy the customer service experience.

At the end of our webchat I am more than happy to complete the customer service satisfaction survey. I’m secretly hoping I need to contact them again. Just think if all our human contact could be this pleasant. Now if I can only get one of the cashiers at my local supermarket to flash me a smile then I too will feel like I’ve done my part.