1.17.05

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Mon. Jan 17, 2005

MLK Birthday

Lafayette IN, Barnes & Noble

Rambling at Barnes & Noble

There's something comfortably respectful about sitting in Barnes & Noble. It's like an old t-shirt you've had for years with a cool expression on it. Slater and I sit on the edge of the elevated café, the hardwood floor beneath us and a huge slow-sweeping "S"-shaped soffit above us quietly warns us and reminds us to keep our drinks here.

Places like this do the little, yet important things right, like keeping the music loud enough to create atmosphere (Allyson Krause & Union Station) and low enough to allow one to meditate, reflect or whatever it is one's gray matter feels like doing.

So many people, yet so much quiet, and yet freedom to talk in quiet peaceful tones. People writing, reading; feeding their mind's appetite or trying to fill the soul's holes.

(Slate started out sipping Diet Pepsi and listening to his walkman. He did well for a lad of 9 years, sitting for at least twenty minutes. Now he's out exploring the jacketed and jewel-cased forest.)

A book store is a good place to feel humble--to feel stupid and unread, more accurately. Even from this narrow vantage point I see books by Bryson. His book, "A Walk in the Woods," one of my favorites, yet I haven't managed to crack open any more of his in more than a couple years. So many classics that I haven't read. So many new ideas I've left untouched. I suppose that's the difference between Barnes & Noble and Starbucks: the only guilt I feel at the latter has to do with caloric intake.

Just "the guys" are here in Lafayette to conclude the purchase of our "new" mini-van. Actually we purchased it Saturday, but a brief stop at Super Target revealed a flawed sliding power door. Today the doctor fixes the ailment.

We traded in our 1999 Ford Windstar with 70,000 miles for a Honda Odyssey with 60,000 miles.
"Why?! What the heck?! You traded in a paid-off van for the same age van and a car payment! Why?"

Faith. Faith is the answer. A belief that a Japanese car with 60,000 miles is just broken-in and ready for another 100,000. Ok, so there's also the fact that our tried and true, Ross Perot-like, no nonsense mechanic told us to unload it post haste. He has a crystal ball and foretold of many repairs in our future.

The Windstar has shattered our already fragile belief in American cars. And so in terms of cars, Sandra and I have become expatriates, embracing the same flag that torpedoed Pearl Harbor. It's ok--we're Christ followers--grace and forgiveness are all part of the plan

I swear that lately the most delightful, soul-lifting sound I hear is someone laughing. When I'm out in public my head snaps around at the sound, and a smile slips 'cross my face. I wonder lately why I am so captivated by this strange funny noise. So far I deduce that public laughter is like Indian-head pennies: they're out there, you just don't run across them much. To add to my cynical nature, I also too often encounter the frown and overhear the grunts of the dissatisfied customer.

To combat this epidemic, I've taken to some behavior that doesn't cost me very much, yet relieves my guilt and gives me the illusion that I'm changing the world, one interaction at a time

When someone crosses my path, I try to look them in the eye and smile. My game is to get them to smile back; if they do, I win, if not, I lose. I fantasize that afterward they think, "What was he smiling about? Hey---that didn'tdidn't feel half bad. I'm gonna try that more often. Heck, I may even smile at the next person I see."

This may sound shallow and simplistic, but I think our "frown to smile ratio" is out of whack. I think that Americans are out of touch with reality; we have failed to recognize how good we have it. We buy $25,000-$35,000 cars with DVD players and leather interiors and sell them or trade them in in 3-5 years because they're old. We live in homes that are palatial compared to the rest of the world. You could park an SUV in most of our master bedrooms if we'd just put a garage door in place of the walk-in closet. We have so much food and money to buy it, that our biggest problem is that we eat too much of it. Most of us have jobs that pay so well that it makes minimum wage look like a child's allowance. Our biggest dilemma at our child's 16th birthday? Which car to buy them.

By my account we ought to be the most Cheshire Cat-looking society on the globe. But we're obsessed with minutia. We're annoyed about the reception on our car stereo. We're embarrassed that our kitchen looks so "'90s." We want the nineteen year old fired for serving us cold fries at the drive thru---we want our 99 cents worth for crying out loud!

We frown because we have myopia and lame memories. One smile at a time I'm trying to remind us that life is good. I think I also do it to remind myself of the same things. I'm not smiley by nature---just ask my wife.

When I'm out and about and things go well at a business, I try to tell someone. Imagine how many times a supervisor hears, "They want to speak to a manager." I figure if we're gonna call them out for blowing it, we should throw them for a loop by telling them they're doing it right too.

I try to look people in the eye behind the counter and sincerely ask them how they're doing. I think too often we avoid looking service people in the eyes because it might remind us that they are as human and as fragile as we are. If we look them humanly in the eye, we may lose a little bit of the leverage we have by just thinking of them as part of the business that exits only to make us happy. We might feel for the person and that could lose the edge for us if this transaction goes south. Heck, I figure if the transaction runs amuck and I've treated this employee like the a real honest to goodness person, they may actually want to help me. Sometimes I think I've been duped into thinking all people at all levels of a business are people to wrestle with, not people to work with.

Sometimes I think we believe that treating people like Jesus did doesn't apply to shopping and business transactions. Sometimes I'm embarrassed by us. So here I am in my one man revolution, looking for people to join the cause. The cause of Christ: to love God and love others as I do myself. Some days I suck at this, but I'm trying not to be so lame.



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		Mon. Jan 17, 2005 MLK Birthday Lafayette IN, Barnes & Noble Rambling at Barnes & Noble There's something comfortably respectful about sitting in Barnes & Noble. It's like an old t-shirt you've had for years with a cool expression on it. Slater and I sit on the edge of the elevated café, the hardwood floor beneath us and a huge slow-sweeping "S"-shaped soffit above us quietly warns us and reminds us to keep our drinks here. Places like this do the little, yet important things right, like keeping the music loud enough to create atmosphere (Allyson Krause & Union Station) and low enough to allow one to meditate, reflect or whatever it is one's gray matter feels like doing. So many people, yet so much quiet, and yet freedom to talk in quiet peaceful tones. People writing, reading; feeding their mind's appetite or trying to fill the soul's holes. (Slate started out sipping Diet Pepsi and listening to his walkman. He did well for a lad of 9 years, sitting for at least twenty minutes. Now he's out exploring the jacketed and jewel-cased forest.) A book store is a good place to feel humble--to feel stupid and unread, more accurately. Even from this narrow vantage point I see books by Bryson. His book, "A Walk in the Woods," one of my favorites, yet I haven't managed to crack open any more of his in more than a couple years. So many classics that I haven't read. So many new ideas I've left untouched. I suppose that's the difference between Barnes & Noble and Starbucks: the only guilt I feel at the latter has to do with caloric intake. Just "the guys" are here in Lafayette to conclude the purchase of our "new" mini-van. Actually we purchased it Saturday, but a brief stop at Super Target revealed a flawed sliding power door. Today the doctor fixes the ailment. We traded in our 1999 Ford Windstar with 70,000 miles for a Honda Odyssey with 60,000 miles. "Why?! What the heck?! You traded in a paid-off van for the same age van and a car payment! Why?" Faith. Faith is the answer. A belief that a Japanese car with 60,000 miles is just broken-in and ready for another 100,000. Ok, so there's also the fact that our tried and true, Ross Perot-like, no nonsense mechanic told us to unload it post haste. He has a crystal ball and foretold of many repairs in our future. The Windstar has shattered our already fragile belief in American cars. And so in terms of cars, Sandra and I have become expatriates, embracing the same flag that torpedoed Pearl Harbor. It's ok--we're Christ followers--grace and forgiveness are all part of the plan I swear that lately the most delightful, soul-lifting sound I hear is someone laughing. When I'm out in public my head snaps around at the sound, and a smile slips 'cross my face. I wonder lately why I am so captivated by this strange funny noise. So far I deduce that public laughter is like Indian-head pennies: they're out there, you just don't run across them much. To add to my cynical nature, I also too often encounter the frown and overhear the grunts of the dissatisfied customer. To combat this epidemic, I've taken to some behavior that doesn't cost me very much, yet relieves my guilt and gives me the illusion that I'm changing the world, one interaction at a time When someone crosses my path, I try to look them in the eye and smile. My game is to get them to smile back; if they do, I win, if not, I lose. I fantasize that afterward they think, "What was he smiling about? Hey---that didn'tdidn't feel half bad. I'm gonna try that more often. Heck, I may even smile at the next person I see." This may sound shallow and simplistic, but I think our "frown to smile ratio" is out of whack. I think that Americans are out of touch with reality; we have failed to recognize how good we have it. We buy $25,000-$35,000 cars with DVD players and leather interiors and sell them or trade them in in 3-5 years because they're old. We live in homes that are palatial compared to the rest of the world. You could park an SUV in most of our master bedrooms if we'd just put a garage door in place of the walk-in closet. We have so much food and money to buy it, that our biggest problem is that we eat too much of it. Most of us have jobs that pay so well that it makes minimum wage look like a child's allowance. Our biggest dilemma at our child's 16th birthday? Which car to buy them. By my account we ought to be the most Cheshire Cat-looking society on the globe. But we're obsessed with minutia. We're annoyed about the reception on our car stereo. We're embarrassed that our kitchen looks so "'90s." We want the nineteen year old fired for serving us cold fries at the drive thru---we want our 99 cents worth for crying out loud! We frown because we have myopia and lame memories. One smile at a time I'm trying to remind us that life is good. I think I also do it to remind myself of the same things. I'm not smiley by nature---just ask my wife. When I'm out and about and things go well at a business, I try to tell someone. Imagine how many times a supervisor hears, "They want to speak to a manager." I figure if we're gonna call them out for blowing it, we should throw them for a loop by telling them they're doing it right too. I try to look people in the eye behind the counter and sincerely ask them how they're doing. I think too often we avoid looking service people in the eyes because it might remind us that they are as human and as fragile as we are. If we look them humanly in the eye, we may lose a little bit of the leverage we have by just thinking of them as part of the business that exits only to make us happy. We might feel for the person and that could lose the edge for us if this transaction goes south. Heck, I figure if the transaction runs amuck and I've treated this employee like the a real honest to goodness person, they may actually want to help me. Sometimes I think I've been duped into thinking all people at all levels of a business are people to wrestle with, not people to work with. Sometimes I think we believe that treating people like Jesus did doesn't apply to shopping and business transactions. Sometimes I'm embarrassed by us. So here I am in my one man revolution, looking for people to join the cause. The cause of Christ: to love God and love others as I do myself. Some days I suck at this, but I'm trying not to be so lame. barnes & noble top o'page < back email morgan