For the past decade I’ve been watching a trend. As a result of my observations, I’ve begun to call this time in America, “The Age of Women.”
In general, the women I see in the workplace and community are better educated and more relevant than the men of their age and background. They are focused on doing good things. They tend to have more gravitas and be harder working than their male peers.
And while there are still plenty of men who resent and mistreat women, and would deny them a chance to prove themselves, it is a time of unprecedented opportunity for women.
If you ask me it is not only well overdue but also just in time.
My daughters and granddaughters live in a time when they can do pretty much anything they want to do with their lives. They can be, as I told my daughters from the crib, the president of just about anything.
For the record: It’s not that I love Lee or Tino any less than I love Lyssha, Nicole, Natalie and Aria, Analiese, Ali, Ame, Viktoria, Rikelle or Angel. (Or Olivia – who will be here soon!) I’ve just always wanted them to have the same prospects for life, liberty and happiness as anyone else.
I’ve used the phrase, “The Age of Women” many times in the past month or so, and the reactions to my phrase have been fascinating. Women tend to agree, but some point out the barriers still to be overcome.
A sense of reality is important, but ladies, an understanding of how many barriers have been broken down already should give you the confidence to remove the roadblocks remaining.
The responses of men seem to be related to their age, education and maturity. Believe it or not, fairly well-educated, middle-aged men are mostly in agreement and very positive.
The peers of the well-educated thirty-something women, however, express skepticism and find excuses. “There are more scholarships for women,” they whine, “more programs, more help, etc.” Non-minority men, according to one, are the only people who have to raise themselves by their bootstraps.
Sorry boys, I’m just not buying it.
As long as there has been an America, men have always had more opportunity – and still do in many places! The women I see just out prepare and out work them. In the past, their preparation, work and skill has meant little.
Finally, there seems to be a sense of justice.
So boys, stop the complaining and go work as hard as your mothers, sisters, aunts and daughters are doing, and get something worthwhile done.
And ladies, you go out there and take hold of every opportunity you want. Continue to knock down every obstacle. Persist in doing what your critics have said you could not do.
I’m hoping that your increased influence and contribution will make this world we live in just a little bit better than it has been.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
My conundrum for the ages
I haven’t had a lot to say of late. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there haven’t been a lot of fully-formed views breaking through the clouds just yet. So I have kept my pondering to myself.
Perhaps the blogosphere would be better off if I continued to keep my thinking to myself, full-formed or otherwise, but I figure you can tune out anytime you want and write here only what I feel driven to record.
It is with that in mind that I share today the impetus for my introspection. If it is in some way helpful to any of you, then know I am delighted to be of help. If not, by all means, feel free to change the channel.
2008 was a tough year, what with the weddings of two beautiful daughters, the global economy, my precious son’s struggles, losing about half my net worth, offending my eldest daughter, business re-organizations, and so, so much uncertainty.
But it was nothing in comparison to 2009!
I find myself right in the midst of what you may immediately dismiss as a mid-life crisis. Well, dismiss it as you may – if you are younger, you have it yet to face. And if you have already faced it, just keep that smug smile of knowing off your face while you read.
Let me set the stage.
I’m 52. I have served my country, my God, my church, and my community. I’ve raised my children, and they are who they are, I’m proud of them and love it when we spend time together (and miss them when we don't.)
I’ve worked for four Fortune 50 companies in a variety of positions high and low. I've also been in a few smaller firms. I’ve been blue-collar and white-collar. I’ve spent time as a leader, The leader, a manager, an analyst, paralegal, a salesman, a consultant, even a gas pump jockey, a carpenter and a forklift driver. I’m even an expert at a couple of things (mostly obscure and unimpressive.)
Come to think of it, there aren't many titles I haven’t held in one company or another (CIO comes to mind, along with CFO – titles I am not only unqualified for, but – really, never wanted to wear.) I’ve been on the boards of three companies, and five non-profits. I've lived in 34 addresses and "owned" the mortgages on three (each a bit better than the last.)
In financial terms I am not what you’d call wealthy, but I’m still well spoiled (even at half my 2007 worth!)
And yet there persists a sense that I haven’t done anything! I think it is because, despite leaving some of my DNA around in four clever and good looking children and eight gorgeous grandchildren, I haven’t BUILT anything enduring.
Nothing but those pieces of my DNA will last beyond the day my remains are dropped into a grave (or more likely, burned to ash and scattered in the surf at one of the Hawaiian Islands… and if so, please, make it Kona!)
The biologists out there are right now attributing that to the drive we all have to be immortal and to leave something of ourselves in the world. Well, I have given that lots of consideration and find that simple explanation is terribly incomplete.
True, I may yearn to write a Homeric tale for the ages, or leave a building on the campus of the University of Maryland with my family name etched in granite. But honestly, none of that lasts all that much longer than my remains. Much as we may all be endowed with some of the motive of Achilles, desiring to be remembered through all the ages, my unrest is more than simply hoping I’ll be remembered.
I’d rather build something lasting and be forgotten than do something famous but inconsequential and be a household name for a millennium or two.
I’d love to build a small but worthwhile endeavor that I could hand off to one of more of my children or grandchildren with a similar vision and watch from the Eternities as they make it something a little bigger and better and pass it on to one of theirs.
That is what has occupied my mind of late. I don’t seek to save the world, stop world hunger, cure cancer, or conquer the world and be the next Caesar. (I would, however, like to help with some of those things.)
I just want to build and leave something that can be built upon by some of mine.
Now if I can just find THAT thing, I’ll be just fine. But I have to hurry, because I realistically have anywhere from one more day to thirty-five or so more years to get something done!
Perhaps the blogosphere would be better off if I continued to keep my thinking to myself, full-formed or otherwise, but I figure you can tune out anytime you want and write here only what I feel driven to record.
It is with that in mind that I share today the impetus for my introspection. If it is in some way helpful to any of you, then know I am delighted to be of help. If not, by all means, feel free to change the channel.
2008 was a tough year, what with the weddings of two beautiful daughters, the global economy, my precious son’s struggles, losing about half my net worth, offending my eldest daughter, business re-organizations, and so, so much uncertainty.
But it was nothing in comparison to 2009!
I find myself right in the midst of what you may immediately dismiss as a mid-life crisis. Well, dismiss it as you may – if you are younger, you have it yet to face. And if you have already faced it, just keep that smug smile of knowing off your face while you read.
Let me set the stage.
I’m 52. I have served my country, my God, my church, and my community. I’ve raised my children, and they are who they are, I’m proud of them and love it when we spend time together (and miss them when we don't.)
I’ve worked for four Fortune 50 companies in a variety of positions high and low. I've also been in a few smaller firms. I’ve been blue-collar and white-collar. I’ve spent time as a leader, The leader, a manager, an analyst, paralegal, a salesman, a consultant, even a gas pump jockey, a carpenter and a forklift driver. I’m even an expert at a couple of things (mostly obscure and unimpressive.)
Come to think of it, there aren't many titles I haven’t held in one company or another (CIO comes to mind, along with CFO – titles I am not only unqualified for, but – really, never wanted to wear.) I’ve been on the boards of three companies, and five non-profits. I've lived in 34 addresses and "owned" the mortgages on three (each a bit better than the last.)
In financial terms I am not what you’d call wealthy, but I’m still well spoiled (even at half my 2007 worth!)
And yet there persists a sense that I haven’t done anything! I think it is because, despite leaving some of my DNA around in four clever and good looking children and eight gorgeous grandchildren, I haven’t BUILT anything enduring.
Nothing but those pieces of my DNA will last beyond the day my remains are dropped into a grave (or more likely, burned to ash and scattered in the surf at one of the Hawaiian Islands… and if so, please, make it Kona!)
The biologists out there are right now attributing that to the drive we all have to be immortal and to leave something of ourselves in the world. Well, I have given that lots of consideration and find that simple explanation is terribly incomplete.
True, I may yearn to write a Homeric tale for the ages, or leave a building on the campus of the University of Maryland with my family name etched in granite. But honestly, none of that lasts all that much longer than my remains. Much as we may all be endowed with some of the motive of Achilles, desiring to be remembered through all the ages, my unrest is more than simply hoping I’ll be remembered.
I’d rather build something lasting and be forgotten than do something famous but inconsequential and be a household name for a millennium or two.
I’d love to build a small but worthwhile endeavor that I could hand off to one of more of my children or grandchildren with a similar vision and watch from the Eternities as they make it something a little bigger and better and pass it on to one of theirs.
That is what has occupied my mind of late. I don’t seek to save the world, stop world hunger, cure cancer, or conquer the world and be the next Caesar. (I would, however, like to help with some of those things.)
I just want to build and leave something that can be built upon by some of mine.
Now if I can just find THAT thing, I’ll be just fine. But I have to hurry, because I realistically have anywhere from one more day to thirty-five or so more years to get something done!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Give Me Hector
Give me Trojan Hector over the Argive Achilles
any day, I muse, unconsciously out loud.
She chuckles and responds, You are a strange man
preferring one work of fiction above another.
Oh my daughter, on the momentous day brave Hector
met mighty Achilles on the Plains of Troy,
these ancient mortal gods stood not merely as warriors,
but as the foundation of our modern world.
Still strange, quite peculiar! she announces with finality.
But why not Achilles, the famed and mighty victor?
Hector, the obvious lesser of the two in single combat
was felled by mighty Achilles and then debased.
Mystically protected from death by his immortal Mother,
from all but the missile launched ingloriously
by a cowardly, fortunate and unwitting foe, I argue.
Twice armored Achilles was simply better shielded.
As they traded powerful blows, Hector held fast despite
divining his death and dividing his strength.
Bringing supreme might to bear against the rising fear,
he conquered self, though before Achilles he fell.
Mighty Achilles, arrogant, narcissistic son of gods,
arrayed in a near perfect Olympian shield to
remedy any breach of helmet, breastplate or greaves,
faced Hector, and he clad only in his Ilium bronze.
Blind to the bolt that pierced his well-known tendon,
Achilles never bred any courage of mortal fear.
So superior on the field of battle, still Achilles lacked
the virtue of the vanquished Ilium commander.
Keep the beauty of Achilles, the armor fashioned by gods
from favor and the ambition for everlasting legend.
Give me the valiant essence of Hector for any endeavor
requiring a soul most daring, dutiful, and true.
any day, I muse, unconsciously out loud.
She chuckles and responds, You are a strange man
preferring one work of fiction above another.
Oh my daughter, on the momentous day brave Hector
met mighty Achilles on the Plains of Troy,
these ancient mortal gods stood not merely as warriors,
but as the foundation of our modern world.
Still strange, quite peculiar! she announces with finality.
But why not Achilles, the famed and mighty victor?
Hector, the obvious lesser of the two in single combat
was felled by mighty Achilles and then debased.
Mystically protected from death by his immortal Mother,
from all but the missile launched ingloriously
by a cowardly, fortunate and unwitting foe, I argue.
Twice armored Achilles was simply better shielded.
As they traded powerful blows, Hector held fast despite
divining his death and dividing his strength.
Bringing supreme might to bear against the rising fear,
he conquered self, though before Achilles he fell.
Mighty Achilles, arrogant, narcissistic son of gods,
arrayed in a near perfect Olympian shield to
remedy any breach of helmet, breastplate or greaves,
faced Hector, and he clad only in his Ilium bronze.
Blind to the bolt that pierced his well-known tendon,
Achilles never bred any courage of mortal fear.
So superior on the field of battle, still Achilles lacked
the virtue of the vanquished Ilium commander.
Keep the beauty of Achilles, the armor fashioned by gods
from favor and the ambition for everlasting legend.
Give me the valiant essence of Hector for any endeavor
requiring a soul most daring, dutiful, and true.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Mickey
One of the best things I ever did was join Wasatch Lodge No. 1 in Salt Lake City, Utah. As a Mason, I’ve had the opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the best men in the state. One of those men is the current “President” of our Lodge - that is, the senior officer, called the Worshipful Master (it’s old English - it means something more like “Honorable Master” of the Lodge.)
On Tuesday, we initiated three candidates at the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. During one of the breaks in the Initiation Ceremony, I visited with our Worshipful Master. While we spoke, I noticed and admiring his beautiful (and very expensive) Mickey Mouse Watch. I’m such a sucker for a well-built watch, a fine pen or a leather bound book. And I am a huge fan of Mickey.
Mickey is a symbol of one of the most innovative men who ever walked this earth. It is a symbol of the kind of experience every customer ought to have every time. Mickey also reminds me of one of my favorite vacation destinations.
Our Master, Leon, is a well-respected local attorney, having argued several cases before the Utah Supreme Court. While I admired his “everyday” Mickey Watch, and proudly showed him my Limited Edition Citizen Eco-drive, he told me he had an Eco-drive with a Gold Mickey in the Twelve position.
Leon then told me that years ago, he’d represented the prestigious president of a large local corporation before the Utah Tax Commission. In his office and just before the hearing, the president handed Leon a very nice, conservative watch and told him to change his watch because his Mickey Mouse watch looked, well, Mickey Mouse.
Now Leon is a bit of a maverick. He knows who he is and he just doesn’t compromise. It is one of the many endearing qualities that most people like about him. He is authentic. You get it straight from him, but he is also exceptionally kind, so tough things are delivered straight and compassionately.
An angry Leon told the Overblown Ego that he had two choices, head over to the hearing with his pretty watch in hand, and represent himself; or they - and Mickey - could go on over together. The president pushed him - was this his “lucky piece?” “If you have to think it is my lucky piece,” Leon replies,” then it is.”
So Leon wins big! Later he gets one of those nice “thank you” notes that also included a termination of his services to the corporation. Leon is a good and ethical attorney. He shared the story but not no more detail than I just did. I don’t know who the man was, the particulars of the case, dates, or the name of the corporation. But the story was instructive.
Any man that would hire an attorney to handle a sensitive and potentially expensive matter based on his expertise and reputation and offend him trying to change his image isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He was powerful and obviously understands power. And he understands and wields a good bit of influence. But he’s not real bright despite his power, influence, and career success. Why?
Well, if you are worried about the image and potential success of an attorney, you don’t retain him.
If you do hire him, you don’t offend him just before you need him to be at his absolute best for you.
And, if a genuine courtroom brawler beats the opposition “big” then you don’t fire him because he wouldn’t take Mickey off his wrist because you insisted. You keep him around for the next issue.
Lastly, if he couldn’t understand Mickey is a symbol of innovation, excellence, and great experiences, he probably doesn’t understand enough to treat employees well - especially those who deal with his customers. And he isn’t creative enough to solve unusual problems or cases he didn’t study in B-school.
Mickey says something about an attorney, a product manager, film-maker, or customer service representative. That well-dressed, powerful, and influential stuffed shirt didn’t get it. Do you?
On Tuesday, we initiated three candidates at the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. During one of the breaks in the Initiation Ceremony, I visited with our Worshipful Master. While we spoke, I noticed and admiring his beautiful (and very expensive) Mickey Mouse Watch. I’m such a sucker for a well-built watch, a fine pen or a leather bound book. And I am a huge fan of Mickey.
Mickey is a symbol of one of the most innovative men who ever walked this earth. It is a symbol of the kind of experience every customer ought to have every time. Mickey also reminds me of one of my favorite vacation destinations.
Our Master, Leon, is a well-respected local attorney, having argued several cases before the Utah Supreme Court. While I admired his “everyday” Mickey Watch, and proudly showed him my Limited Edition Citizen Eco-drive, he told me he had an Eco-drive with a Gold Mickey in the Twelve position.
Leon then told me that years ago, he’d represented the prestigious president of a large local corporation before the Utah Tax Commission. In his office and just before the hearing, the president handed Leon a very nice, conservative watch and told him to change his watch because his Mickey Mouse watch looked, well, Mickey Mouse.
Now Leon is a bit of a maverick. He knows who he is and he just doesn’t compromise. It is one of the many endearing qualities that most people like about him. He is authentic. You get it straight from him, but he is also exceptionally kind, so tough things are delivered straight and compassionately.
An angry Leon told the Overblown Ego that he had two choices, head over to the hearing with his pretty watch in hand, and represent himself; or they - and Mickey - could go on over together. The president pushed him - was this his “lucky piece?” “If you have to think it is my lucky piece,” Leon replies,” then it is.”
So Leon wins big! Later he gets one of those nice “thank you” notes that also included a termination of his services to the corporation. Leon is a good and ethical attorney. He shared the story but not no more detail than I just did. I don’t know who the man was, the particulars of the case, dates, or the name of the corporation. But the story was instructive.
Any man that would hire an attorney to handle a sensitive and potentially expensive matter based on his expertise and reputation and offend him trying to change his image isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He was powerful and obviously understands power. And he understands and wields a good bit of influence. But he’s not real bright despite his power, influence, and career success. Why?
Well, if you are worried about the image and potential success of an attorney, you don’t retain him.
If you do hire him, you don’t offend him just before you need him to be at his absolute best for you.
And, if a genuine courtroom brawler beats the opposition “big” then you don’t fire him because he wouldn’t take Mickey off his wrist because you insisted. You keep him around for the next issue.
Lastly, if he couldn’t understand Mickey is a symbol of innovation, excellence, and great experiences, he probably doesn’t understand enough to treat employees well - especially those who deal with his customers. And he isn’t creative enough to solve unusual problems or cases he didn’t study in B-school.
Mickey says something about an attorney, a product manager, film-maker, or customer service representative. That well-dressed, powerful, and influential stuffed shirt didn’t get it. Do you?
Friday, June 12, 2009
Technical Fouls
The three topics guaranteed to build animosity are Religion, Sports and Politics. While I write often about politics, public policy and community affairs, I just won’t write about religion here (though I do so in my own personal notebooks.)
Sports are a different matter. I’m a die-hard USC fan despite not being good enough to earn a scholarship to go there (either for my running or my grades.) I used to support the Rams, until the Devil (her first name was Georgia) took them to St. Louis. And despite a short malaise after Shaq left LA, there just hasn’t been anyone but the Lakers ever since Wilt, Happy Hairston, Jerry West, and Elgin Baylor were stars.
And yes, I AM enjoying the NBA Finals.
But, I am not enjoying them as much as you might think. Why? The Referees, that’s why. As I get older, more experienced, more socially aware, I recognize in them all the traits of petty tyrants.
It is not so much that they don’t call everything on the other team and leave my perfect Lakers alone. It is that they are ruining the game with their inconsistency and unwillingness to reverse even the worst of calls. The League’s efforts to police them are ineffective and impotent.
The quickest way to help them mend their ways is a form of instant replay that becomes an avenue of appeal to their most egregious acts. What I want to say today, however, has nothing to do with Instant Replay.
I’d like to make what will be a largely unheard appeal that the league take away one of the last vestiges of the plantation. Please get rid of those awful and inhuman technical fouls given for arguing a call or for passionate outbursts on the court.
We all agree that the best players bring passion to the game. We also all agree that there are bad calls and there needs to be some way to appeal them.
The inconsistent application of “Tees” for arguing, celebration or taunting always makes it a joke when they are called.
In the Eastern Finals I saw a home team player repeatedly pound his chest after a game changing play without a call, while in another game a visiting team player was “Teed” up for a fist pump over a similar play. Different refs! Different players! Different towns! All wrong.
Some players can argue a foul without a Tee while others simply look disgusted and draw one. And God help you if you are perceived as a “Bad Boy.” You’re getting one every time you open your mouth.
Fans love the passion. And we live with the injustice of silly calls because the game still adds something to our life. But “Teeing” up a player because he had the audacity to question a call you just made is like allowing me to fine everyone – including customers - who disagree with my opinion or decision because I have some authority at work.
We think it is tyranny in a home, business or government, but somehow it is okay in a courtroom or on a basketball court. It is inhuman because it asks players to become robots. And it just reminds us of our basic training sergeant or the plantation overlords who wouldn’t allow any questioning of their authority or expressions of emotion.
And just in case you think that I think or am calling for an allowance of fighting or hurting referees, fans, players or coaches – I AM NOT. But the power to change a game needs to have some checks and balances and in the NBA, there are none.
Power is corrosive. And if it is unchecked, power always turns into tyranny. Just look at any NBA game between any two teams and you will see what I am talking about.
So, Commissioner, let’s get rid of this silly left-over from pre-Civil War times and allow some passion and humanity on the court. Believe me, you'll have a better "product."
Sports are a different matter. I’m a die-hard USC fan despite not being good enough to earn a scholarship to go there (either for my running or my grades.) I used to support the Rams, until the Devil (her first name was Georgia) took them to St. Louis. And despite a short malaise after Shaq left LA, there just hasn’t been anyone but the Lakers ever since Wilt, Happy Hairston, Jerry West, and Elgin Baylor were stars.
And yes, I AM enjoying the NBA Finals.
But, I am not enjoying them as much as you might think. Why? The Referees, that’s why. As I get older, more experienced, more socially aware, I recognize in them all the traits of petty tyrants.
It is not so much that they don’t call everything on the other team and leave my perfect Lakers alone. It is that they are ruining the game with their inconsistency and unwillingness to reverse even the worst of calls. The League’s efforts to police them are ineffective and impotent.
The quickest way to help them mend their ways is a form of instant replay that becomes an avenue of appeal to their most egregious acts. What I want to say today, however, has nothing to do with Instant Replay.
I’d like to make what will be a largely unheard appeal that the league take away one of the last vestiges of the plantation. Please get rid of those awful and inhuman technical fouls given for arguing a call or for passionate outbursts on the court.
We all agree that the best players bring passion to the game. We also all agree that there are bad calls and there needs to be some way to appeal them.
The inconsistent application of “Tees” for arguing, celebration or taunting always makes it a joke when they are called.
In the Eastern Finals I saw a home team player repeatedly pound his chest after a game changing play without a call, while in another game a visiting team player was “Teed” up for a fist pump over a similar play. Different refs! Different players! Different towns! All wrong.
Some players can argue a foul without a Tee while others simply look disgusted and draw one. And God help you if you are perceived as a “Bad Boy.” You’re getting one every time you open your mouth.
Fans love the passion. And we live with the injustice of silly calls because the game still adds something to our life. But “Teeing” up a player because he had the audacity to question a call you just made is like allowing me to fine everyone – including customers - who disagree with my opinion or decision because I have some authority at work.
We think it is tyranny in a home, business or government, but somehow it is okay in a courtroom or on a basketball court. It is inhuman because it asks players to become robots. And it just reminds us of our basic training sergeant or the plantation overlords who wouldn’t allow any questioning of their authority or expressions of emotion.
And just in case you think that I think or am calling for an allowance of fighting or hurting referees, fans, players or coaches – I AM NOT. But the power to change a game needs to have some checks and balances and in the NBA, there are none.
Power is corrosive. And if it is unchecked, power always turns into tyranny. Just look at any NBA game between any two teams and you will see what I am talking about.
So, Commissioner, let’s get rid of this silly left-over from pre-Civil War times and allow some passion and humanity on the court. Believe me, you'll have a better "product."
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
With apologies - more on service
At one of my favorite book sellers, I recently heard an employee on the floor saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over again to the same customer. No action was taken to remedy the wrong. The employee was just very sorry.
Suddenly it hit me, I’ve been in several retail outlets recently and heard that phrase from tellers, cashiers, floor personnel, sales people and managers over and over.
I’ve looked on-line to see if I missed some new tip or trick from an overpaid Customer Service Guru, but it appears that it is happening quite spontaneously.
If you have to apologize multiple times to most or every customer, something is very wrong with your retail operation.
What most retailers call Service is nothing more than common courtesy – being a human being. Service has to do with quality in all its forms, and courtesy is only the tail end of that process.
If you don’t do your job right, or the systems make you hard to do business with, or policies are written to stop the crooks and just anger your honest customers all the courtesy in the world won’t save that customer from a good competitor.
It dates me to tell you, but I remember “Love Story” by Erich Segal (the book and the movie!) I thought it was sappy and stupid to think that “Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.” Just show me one perfect person or relationship! But it is plain to the mature Lon that this is an ideal, perhaps impossible for a human to attain, but certainly worth the effort.
Maybe it is too much to say that Service Excellence means you never need apologize to your customer, but it ought to at least be harder to say it. “I’m sorry” ought to accompany some action to fix the problem or some extra to ease the sting.
If you need to apologize to a customer, by all means do so, quickly, sincerely, and then make it right or add something extra. But if you have to apologize too often, or to too many customers, something else is wrong and should be fixed, quickly, and permanently.
Otherwise, “I’m sorry” means absolutely nothing.
Suddenly it hit me, I’ve been in several retail outlets recently and heard that phrase from tellers, cashiers, floor personnel, sales people and managers over and over.
I’ve looked on-line to see if I missed some new tip or trick from an overpaid Customer Service Guru, but it appears that it is happening quite spontaneously.
If you have to apologize multiple times to most or every customer, something is very wrong with your retail operation.
What most retailers call Service is nothing more than common courtesy – being a human being. Service has to do with quality in all its forms, and courtesy is only the tail end of that process.
If you don’t do your job right, or the systems make you hard to do business with, or policies are written to stop the crooks and just anger your honest customers all the courtesy in the world won’t save that customer from a good competitor.
It dates me to tell you, but I remember “Love Story” by Erich Segal (the book and the movie!) I thought it was sappy and stupid to think that “Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.” Just show me one perfect person or relationship! But it is plain to the mature Lon that this is an ideal, perhaps impossible for a human to attain, but certainly worth the effort.
Maybe it is too much to say that Service Excellence means you never need apologize to your customer, but it ought to at least be harder to say it. “I’m sorry” ought to accompany some action to fix the problem or some extra to ease the sting.
If you need to apologize to a customer, by all means do so, quickly, sincerely, and then make it right or add something extra. But if you have to apologize too often, or to too many customers, something else is wrong and should be fixed, quickly, and permanently.
Otherwise, “I’m sorry” means absolutely nothing.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
La Caille and the Secret of Life
La Caille is “contemporary French cuisine in a 17th century chateau on an idyllic 22 acre estate complete with vineyard, fountains, peacocks and swans,” [1] nestled in a beautiful and peaceful setting at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. It is one of those places you go for very special occasions or celebrations.
During a recent meeting the owner, Steve Runolfson described himself as a “gentleman farmer who works at night in the kitchen.” I can assure you he is much more. For starters, he is one of the few people who understand how to consistently deliver “Old World Service.”
The purpose of the meeting with Steve was planning for the upcoming Celebration of Learning with the five of us who compose the Finance Committee of the Scottish Rite Learning Centers. Steve taught us how to make this gala event a huge success.
During the meeting, we were very surprised at just how willing Steve was to add extra value to every part of the planning and execution - every touch-point- and not just the event. He was offering so much more than just a beautiful environment, great food and drink. He showed over and over that he is a generous and community-minded man.
Close to the end of the meeting, Bob Shupe, probably the most generous man I know expressed to Steve our surprise and gratitude. It was here that Steve shared with us a very memorable thought. While he held up his right hand, holding his thumb and forefinger roughly an inch apart, Steve told us, “I’ve learned the secret of life. It is to give just this much more than you take.”
I later shared this thought with my son, and he replied, “Karma.” I corrected him. That is not Karma. In popular usage, Karma has come to mean what you give comes back to you, or “what comes around goes around.” Karma is really “the effects of a person's actions that determine his destiny in his next incarnation.” [2]
Steve was not talking about Karma. He was not talking about future incarnations of life. Steve was talking about this life and specifically, he was talking about the secret of a happy and fulfilled life.
This reminded me of a similar thought expressed by Emanuel Swedenborg, the 17th Century Swedish Christian Mystic. Swedenborg taught, “Real joy, which comes from loving to do good things without wanting to be repaid, is the reward that lasts forever.”
Steve’s thinking is very different from the usual negotiation where the parties vie for supremacy, trying to wring every ounce of value for the minimum return, and leave nothing on the table for the other party. It is the complete antithesis of Gordon Gekko’s “Greed is Good,” mantra.
Steve’s a man who has been wildly successful at his business for more than four decades, and he puts a lot more value than he has to on the table! I believe this philosophy has brought Steve his long-term success. And I suspect he has more than his share of joy.
[1] LaCaille.com
[2] Wordnet, Princeton.edu
During a recent meeting the owner, Steve Runolfson described himself as a “gentleman farmer who works at night in the kitchen.” I can assure you he is much more. For starters, he is one of the few people who understand how to consistently deliver “Old World Service.”
The purpose of the meeting with Steve was planning for the upcoming Celebration of Learning with the five of us who compose the Finance Committee of the Scottish Rite Learning Centers. Steve taught us how to make this gala event a huge success.
During the meeting, we were very surprised at just how willing Steve was to add extra value to every part of the planning and execution - every touch-point- and not just the event. He was offering so much more than just a beautiful environment, great food and drink. He showed over and over that he is a generous and community-minded man.
Close to the end of the meeting, Bob Shupe, probably the most generous man I know expressed to Steve our surprise and gratitude. It was here that Steve shared with us a very memorable thought. While he held up his right hand, holding his thumb and forefinger roughly an inch apart, Steve told us, “I’ve learned the secret of life. It is to give just this much more than you take.”
I later shared this thought with my son, and he replied, “Karma.” I corrected him. That is not Karma. In popular usage, Karma has come to mean what you give comes back to you, or “what comes around goes around.” Karma is really “the effects of a person's actions that determine his destiny in his next incarnation.” [2]
Steve was not talking about Karma. He was not talking about future incarnations of life. Steve was talking about this life and specifically, he was talking about the secret of a happy and fulfilled life.
This reminded me of a similar thought expressed by Emanuel Swedenborg, the 17th Century Swedish Christian Mystic. Swedenborg taught, “Real joy, which comes from loving to do good things without wanting to be repaid, is the reward that lasts forever.”
Steve’s thinking is very different from the usual negotiation where the parties vie for supremacy, trying to wring every ounce of value for the minimum return, and leave nothing on the table for the other party. It is the complete antithesis of Gordon Gekko’s “Greed is Good,” mantra.
Steve’s a man who has been wildly successful at his business for more than four decades, and he puts a lot more value than he has to on the table! I believe this philosophy has brought Steve his long-term success. And I suspect he has more than his share of joy.
[1] LaCaille.com
[2] Wordnet, Princeton.edu
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
