What Does It Take, Really?

As a corollary to my previous post -- in fact, an addendum, of sorts -- concerning fading humanity in the United States, I would like to add my acknowledgement and sincere appreciation of the following individuals and businesses which, against prevailing current and a nation changing for the worse, still offer dignity and customer service.  Off the top of my head, there are:

- the super motel in the lakefront northern Wisconsin town I grew up in, and come home to to roost every now and then (although not nearly as often as I should, or would like to), and day manager (high school classmate), Lisa.

- US Airways' gate agent, Gaby, working at Fort Lauderdale International Airport (FLL) this spring.  Gaby, you made my night, by smilingly, professionally changing my flight up the east coast to Boston, so it wouldn't need to stop in Chicago (?) first.  THANK YOU.

- the AirTran gate agent in October 2013, working at Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson (ATL).  When I missed my connecting flight to FLL there, you shrugged, said "Why not?" and, again, so rare as to be noteworthy, professionally did your job by allowing me to get on a flight to Orlando.  No raping "change fee", no blather about "city pairs" ... I needed to get to Florida, you allowed it to happen.  Why not, indeed?

(True, I had to take a Greyhound bus to get from Orlando to Miami that trip, and that sorta sucked ... but you know what?  I thought of you on that six hour ride, my love!  Your proud, solution-driven face and vaguely admonishing, motherly smile, stayed with me each tropic mile...).

- the Enterprise car rental agent at Newark Liberty International Airport (EWR), the following month.  You accepted my debit card to rent the vehicle.  You treated it like a credit card -- as really, it should be; because otherwise, what's the point of having the Visa or MasterCard logo there??  These confusions don't exist in other countries, where a bank card is still just a bank card, and may only be used at an ATM ... or for point of sale purchases, but using electronic chip and PIN technology, having nothing to do with Visa or MasterCard.

For these are credit cards.  If their logos are on my bank card, I expect my bank card to be treated appropriately: as a Visa or MasterCard!  Not as a debit card ... so then I'm prevented or disallowed from using the Visa or MasterCard features.

What is the point of that??

Anyway, you, Enterprise car rental agent at EWR in November 2013 ... You accepted my debit card to rent the vehicle.  You "authorized" no amount -- nothing was held on my card in advance -- allowing me to get where I needed to go.  I'm sorry I didn't get your name - but THANK YOU.

To some of you others -- you airlines and car rental agencies and hotels in the U.S., clawing for superfluous "deposits" and charges ("authorizations", sorry!) ... adhering so rigidly to ridiculous "policies", without any kind of case-by-case examining or human level -- you should move back toward respecting your customers.  Not inconveniencing, hassling and, literally in some cases, stranding your customers.

You should rethink, and all be ashamed of yourselves.

Arctic Corollary

Ha!  Told you so!

As I suggested in a post last week, I'm not alone in believing that we've become a nation of sissies when it comes to weather ... specifically, cold weather.

Leaving aside for now the global warming arguments (and any kooky renditions of "Ice Ice, Baby"), let's just say that America, as a nation, is prompted to overreact when it comes to extremes.  And don't get me wrong:  30 degrees below zero (in some cases, plus wind chill) IS extreme ... as is the (*ahem*) 'polar' opposite: 100+ degrees in some nasty, fly / mosquito bake-off ... but for many Americans, neither extreme -- brutal cold nor baking heat -- is beyond what might be expected seasonally, or at least geographically. 

In other words:  SHUT UP already about the cold, and stop throwing words around, like "dangerous", "deadly", "advisory", "warning" ... It's WINTER.  Sometimes it's cold outside.

As I escaped the clutches of the holidays last week ... emerging from torpor and "polar vortex" ... my three hour drive to the airport was clear:  not a hint of snow or even black ice on the freeway (I-35 between Duluth and Minneapolis, MN) and the point of every star sharp and crackling like glass.

Beyond this, my overnight flight back to comparative warmth was delayed a little, maybe two or three hours ... but by 8am, I was back in my home away from Home, and back to my normal (winter) morning routine.

I did not stay indoors, avoid driving or change travel plans ... and yet (amazingly?) I did not freeze to death, become sick or frostbitten, spin out or worse on the side of the freeway, or be forced to sleep on an airport floor.

... I just went about my life in winter.

"Homeward Bound", ©Jeff Glovsky

Overkill (Polar Bromides)

Fast Forward (2015):  It's Only Winter

When winter storm "Hercules" took a dump this past week, I, like millions of Americans, woke up to CNN newspeople yelling and laughing, and climbing snow banks and oddly gesticulating, as they do, toward satellite maps and radar readouts.  They made jokes and threw snowballs, and pointed out snowplows and train crews doing their jobs.

When the MTA cancels full service for something other than a shooting or a sleep-deprived speed demon, you can rest assured the weather is actually bad.  Millions of people in the New York metro area alone are impacted directly ... Not to mention the densely populated Eastern Seaboard, from roughly Richmond, Virginia up to Boston, and inward (Philadelphia, Newark, Albany) ...

Add to this the domino effect of canceled flights, disrupted travel, delays and impatience, shutdowns and slowdowns, severe Arctic cold and a weather-related death or two ... and you've got the makings of a weather "event".

But seasonally speaking, is it really so newsworthy?

Like millions of Americans, I woke up Thursday morning to a snowstorm.  Like hundreds, perhaps even thousands of Americans, I wondered after the fourth or fifth hour of "Breaking News" coverage, what the big deal was.

In other words, like millions of Americans -- and people from various regions across the globe also directly impacted by winter weather -- I woke up to a snowstorm.

“Tundric Technicolor”, ©Jeff Glovsky

What's the big deal?

Visiting family and friends in northern Wisconsin this holiday season, I'd already spent several weeks with frozen finger and nose tips, relentless gray skies and accumulated December snowfall of over three feet (nearly 1 meter).  As an uncout' yout' growing up in the northland, I remember regular "snow days" - when school would be closed not because of snow, but because it was twenty below zero and pipes would freeze ... not only my pipes, but the plumbing in the late 19th century school buildings also.  It would be too cold for school!

When winter happens ... even a powerful winter weather "event", like a "Hercules" (or "Ion" now!) ... I don't need to be seeing reporters bundled up, telling me to keep warm, or how to throw snowballs.  I don't need to learn the phrase, "polar vortex".

It's WINTER.  It's cold out.  It snows.  Sometimes, it snows hard, fast, wet and sloppy ... Sometimes the cold is subzero, and ice forms.  Ice, if you're walking or driving on it, can make you slip and slide, lose control ... Drive safely.

“Rude Conditions”, ©Jeff Glovsky

It's winter outside.  If you prefer to stay inside, set your thermostat to 70-ish.  Don't open the window to let in fresh air - It may feel good for a minute or two, but in the end, you're only inviting the cold in; what you want to be doing is keeping it out.  The human condition of comfort demands warmth.

Stay warm this winter.  Bundle up.  Dress in layers - but don't wear anything too tight, or you might sweat.

Stay indoors if you'd rather, or if you must.  Have plenty of food on hand, a flashlight, blankets, and make sure all your prescriptions are filled.

Then read a book.  Or better yet, talk to your family.  Communicate.  Play games ... some charades, a little Monopoly maybe, some Trivial Pursuit.  Build a house of cards or play poker, or chess ... But unplug, if you'd like things to thrive while "surviving".  If the power goes out, try not to light candles ... It might be romantic, but you might fall asleep and your house might burn down.

Beyond this, don't be afraid to embrace winter:  its beauty, its power, its furious grace ... and celebrate what we 'up north' -- in the Northern Hemisphere -- are lucky to know as our holiday season.

“Celebrate (Life / Work)”, ©Jeff Glovsky

Thanks Giving, Awareness

My dad's good friend passed away this week.  After hearing about / witnessing nearly forty years of camaraderie, Schadenfreude, rivalry, jibing, belittlements, favors performed (sometimes grudgingly, other times without even asking) ... weekly breakfast and lunch rituals (my mom's frustrations at the "bromance") ... general support, bonhomie and the occasional assist with each others' families ... and at the end of the day, companionship and a comfort factor ...

My dad's friend of nearly forty years is no more.

Gordon died of a brain tumor, which overtly manifested its ugly head for the first time on November 1st, just over three weeks ago.  Apparently, he'd complained of headaches every now and then, more and more frequently ... but these were generally (too easily, conveniently) dismissed as what happens to you when you become old(er).  My own squinty vision, my dad's pained feet, my mom's knobbly knees and Gordon's headaches, all written off to inevitability.

Until this past November 1st, when my dad's friend collapsed - an aneurysm being to blame on the surface, while lurking and festering, metastasizing, below was the inoperable brain cancer which ravaged and killed him.

In just over three weeks!  You have to discover it ... Invite cure and treatment.  When "it" finds you, showing up at your doorstep, the game's usually over.

I thought of Gordon the other day, before I learned of his death (though I knew he was unwell).  Just randomly began thinking about how fast things happen ... about my own memories and knowing of him, mainly through his son, who's my age and with whom I went to school (Geoff, if I remember, was left-handed ... just like the spelling of his first name!) ... How at least he'd been released to home care and family for what would be his final days, and of course, the impact on his family.

How my dad, in his own words, doesn't "do sad" but would need to attend his best friend's funeral, before the weight of reality, new sense of mortality and feelings of loneliness set in like a northern Wisconsin winter ...

And if I were googly-eyed, I might try to suggest that it was that very moment, when I randomly and powerfully began thinking of Gordon, that his soul left his body ... and another little piece of my own life left me. 

 “Give (Thanks)”, ©Jeff Glovsky

 * * *

GLIOGENE International Brain Tumor Study

Balance

I recently stopped in to pay a hotel bill from a year ago.  In the lakeside northern Wisconsin town I grew up in, I was able to establish credit with a locally owned and operated franchise, God bless 'em ... and G-bless and huge thanks to property manager, Lisa, AHS Class of '85, who greenlighted the account.

Whenever I'm 'up north' now, traveling solo, to visit family and collect myself (or old belongings and record albums (!) that I wish to keep) ... I have a welcome place to stay that doesn't have to be my old bedroom.  I'm able to stay a spell and pay later, without any kind of restrictions, hassles, room, key or damage "deposits", or even having a zero account (folio) balance.  It's like an honor system, pay as you go thing, and nothing could suit my needs more aptly.

I was 'home' last year at exactly this time, and took advantage of the hospitality ... Then, over the course of 2013, I set up digs overseas, lived and worked in New York, forged a new path and wrestled with SEO ... and did not keep up my end of the tacit arrangement with the local hotel.  I returned to New York at some point during this past summer, to numerous mailed invoices from the hotel, and entreaties from poor Lisa, usually scrawled in red pen, "You NEED to pay this!" ... "Please pay IMMEDIATELY!" ... "This is 340 days past due!!!"

Now despite what you may or may not have heard, read, searched, found, discovered or lazily and ignorantly swallowed about me after typing your search query - not only am I not a "criminal", "thief" or "scammer", but I'm also not a lowlife or a deadbeat.

I'm BUSY, and have been POOR most of my working, adult life!  But this does not mean I'm unwilling or even unable to pay you.

So I paid up the hotel bill from 2012 ... and not once did anyone trash talk, threaten, insult or talk nonsense about "theft (of services)" or any other "charges"; or furiously type in an email, or publicly post anywhere online, that Jeff Glovsky is a "criminal", "scammer", "thief", "schemer" or "scumbag".

Photo(s) by Jglo

Such offensive, false and defamatory language was eschewed in this case, by a person who knew me (or at least knew of me, having actually met me once or twice in high school) - and knew better, professionally, than to carry on like an asshole.

For this, I am grateful, and offer back the greatest respect.  This particular hotel franchise, and its parent, will always have my business.  To those other businesses and services, and people, to whom my business and my person might somehow be unwanted, good riddance and good luck with yourselves.

You're not needed.

("O-kay", I hear you shrugging ... the second syllable going up a couple octaves in your nonchalance.  I don't really give a shit either, just so you know.  Couldn't care less.) 

Now on the other hand, if you're a business owner -- like me, a professional, breadwinner, family  man --  and your earning power, livelihood and reputation have been attacked and/or destroyed by ... well, someone like me:  feeling aggrieved, slighted, inconvenienced, insulted and raring to poke a fat finger back, and/or spit, in your eye ... and you've been so maligned ... why not tell me about it?  Why don't we join forces?

I want to know what you've been through.  I want to hear the way "AlanP"'s anonymous "yelping" has all but ground your business to a halt; how "quixotic"'s frustration with her life and day has wound up on your hotel doorstep, so that you've had to end up dealing with her and reading all about your alleged 'negligence', 'dishonesty' and 'crap service' for the next however many years you remain in business after the internet is told to "BEWARE!!!" of you.

I invite you to share your story, and name the real names of your most rude, overbearing, obnoxious and entitled-feeling guests and customers.  In the interest of fair play, and of course, "freedom of speech", this time has come.

"Tipping Point", ©Jeff Glovsky

Fight or Flight (or Up a Tree)?

We forget the lessons of our youth.

So when I read that Abby Wetherell, the 12 year-old girl unpleasantly surprised then badly hurt by a black bear in northern Michigan "played dead" in staving off further attack, it occurred to me, "What would I have done?"

Thinking it over, I realized with some surprise that laying down and actually playing dead is not something that would have even crossed my mind.  Instead, faced with the choice between fight or flight, the nuance of feigning capitulation (sleep, death) as a means of escape would have escaped me ... leaving my only option to be literal escape from the animal's paws and jaws.

I would've run like hell!  And probably not gotten very far - or gotten myself stuck in a tree, which is a lesson of my youth I do seem to remember, when and if ever being chased by an animal.  First, there is "don't run" (which I guess could be interpreted or translated to "play dead", come to think of it) ... but failing that, the advice I remember is:  run up a tree.  Someone told me that once, I'm pretty sure of it.  But bears climb trees (don't they?), or at least shake them ...

 

(fuzzy) Photo(s) by Jglo

My run-in with wildlife would've ended badly.

The girl, though, did well, and is doing well (already making the interview rounds).  It could've been me! I scream in silence to myself ... on any one of countless late night walks through the northern Wisconsin small town I grew up in.

Another recent incident to 'shake my tree' involves the late night (early morning) abduction of Alex Band, lead singer of The Calling - a group that has not been on my radar since I snapped off the car radio in disgust about 10 years ago, when that song came on for the zillionth time ... But what made the whole thing particularly jarring to me -- apart from this snark-fail attempt at trivializing the incident:

"Bad news for fans of the early 2000s: it looks like that promise the guy from The Calling made to go  wherever you will go will have to wait for a while, because he's not going much of anywhere for a while."

...Good writing, man!  And I feel your empathy as a "reporter" (and human being).

But apart from that, what gave me pause was that this slice of life also happened in Michigan - this time in the lower ("mitten") part of the state, not too far out of Flint, but in relative darkness, en route to the Canadian border.  In other words, peace of night, middle of nowhere - a climate / environment I know well, and a circumstance with which I'm also familiar:  specifically, a late night walk from hotel to convenience store while on tour or traveling; and in general, walking alone through peace of night and middle of nowhere.

It could've been me! I scream again ... on any number of occasions when, while walking "safely" outside of New York City, it would occur to me that if vans pulled up, bears showed up, axe-wielding creatures leapt out of dark woods ... there'd be no deli to run into, no taxi to hail ...

No one to hear me scream when I'm bleeding.

There's an "element of danger outside of Manhattan" a childhood friend said to me once when visiting from the Midwest - a remark he made in passing while I was conducting a tour of my ex-girlfriends' houses, driving him around through these late night, bridge-shadow neighborhoods in Queens, the Bronx and northern New Jersey ... pointing out to him my own personal landmarks and milestones since leaving the hometown we'd shared.

... That particular night, I guess I kidnapped my friend.  A fellow Wisconsinite, like

Walter Bradford Cannon, M.D. 1871-1945