October 2011

I grew up in a retail environment. One side of the family owned a hardware store/lumber yard/contracting business and for the most part it was family that worked at the business. I started slinging lumber at 14 and then made my way into the office area along my grandparents, dad and later my aunt. It was this environment that piqued my interest in computers because the lack thereof; it was a good opportunity to learn how things work instead of “just making it work” through computer use.

However, even though this retail environment fostered my geekiness, there was actually something much more important that I learned during this time that has stuck with me all these years. It is the concept of “I”.

When a customer entered the store and approached, they were asked a simple question. “What can we do for you today?” The question was asked with enthusiasm and naturally implied that there was a team of folks hidden in the walls of that old mill that were anxious to help the customer. I remember my grandfather sitting me down one time when I asked, “Can I help you?” instead of “What can we do for you today?” It was one of a handful of times that I can remember that he wasn’t yelling or ranting about something to me; instead he calmly explained the difference between “I” and “we”, especially when it came to teamwork in a retail environment. “You don’t own the store. You don’t own the sale. Many people will have contributed to getting the customer what he wants. You don’t help the customer, WE do.”

That’s what has stuck with me ever since.

I bristle when I hear someone run contrary to this concept. It makes me doubt their sincerity. For example, Earl and I recently asked about a dessert menu at a local restaurant. The reply was, “I have coconut cream pie, apple pie, ice cream”, the list went on but I tuned her out a little bit. I wanted to ask if she had baked the pies herself. Had she picked the apples? Did she buy the coconuts?

As part of a growing team at work, I get irked by the same thing. “I told him that I could get that done for him.” I wanted to reply, “if you can get that done, then why are you coming to me to build the database for you?” I might be a little cantankerous but I believe that if you say that _you_ can do it, then go ahead and do it. Plus, as I mentioned before it flakes out my trust in the situation just a little bit. It’s a personal thing, but I think it’s important. That’s why it’s stuck with me all these years.

Once in a while I find myself thinking along the lines of “I” instead of “we” in various team environments at work. I then remember the talk I had with my grandfather about it and try to get back on track before he starts hollering from the other side. After all, I wouldn’t be worth much at work if I wasn’t part of a bigger team and lord knows I don’t want Gramps yelling from the great beyond.

I want him to snicker instead. Snickering was good.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The alarm clock on the nightstand started playing a classical selection in HD radio high-fidelity. Since the actual clock part of the clock radio is obscured because modern technology demands that clocks use bright displays instead of the older LED displays, I squint to look at the older clock on the other side of the room. It’s 5:30 a.m. Time to get up.

I hop out of bed, do my business in the master bath, put on my bathroom and look out the window. The moon is shining brightly and I can see quite a few stars in the sky. It looks cold. The neighbor’s kitchen window is lighting up the side lawn. There is no sign of any sort of sunrise.

It’s 5:30 a.m. This is a traditional time for farmers to get up and get moving. It’s when the garbage men come by on their truck, it’s when the tractor trailer drivers start moving their goods from point A to point B along the interstate. 5:30 a.m. The start of the day for many. And because of the newish yet obscenely outdated Daylight Saving Time law, the start of the day takes place in the darkness of night.

Yesterday I mentioned in one of my blog entries that I love the magic this time of the year brings. Part of that magic is stepping out into the darkened world after a long workday and a nice supper with the family and listening to the wind rustle the trees. It is a time for peace, for meditation and for reflection on the day’s events.

But we are trying to do everything backwards.

I often hear that we have Daylight Saving Time because the farmers love it. This is a crock of manure. The farmers don’t like getting up in the dark anymore than us office dwellers do. The cows are still sleeping, the chickens are still sleeping and we should still be sleeping. I believe humans are wired to arise with the sunrise, for the most part, and getting out of bed before the sun has made an appearance for the day starts us off on the wrong foot. For many folks, myself included, this includes an unnecessarily early start to the normally-reserved-for-winter Seasonal Affectation Disorder, we start to get depressed.

All so that Americans can think that they’re enjoying a longer day.

We don’t really save energy with Daylight Saving Time anymore. We burn just as much light trying to see where we are going no matter what time of day it is and because we are trying to stay active in the after work hours, we burn more fossil fuels than if we just stayed home and enjoyed an evening with the family.

My existence in Daylight Saving Time is like living in a constant state of jet-lag, especially at this time of year when it has been extended an extra week or two. I know that my mood and disposition will be brighter once our clocks are in relative sync with the sun.

Until then, I’ll just talk about my discomfort a lot.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad