Category Archives: Commentary

Everyday lessons children learn (a minor rant in D sharp)

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During the summer, neighborhood residents can pay a fee to use the swimming pool at my apartment building. It’s a win-win, at least for those who can afford it. Families get access to an outdoor pool during the hot months. The building owners make a little extra money, or have more to pay for the pool’s upkeep. (Residents don’t pay extra.)

For the most part, the families are well-behaved. The children can be loud and rowdy, but that’s normal. I expect that.

Over the years, though, some families haven’t been so well-behaved. I noticed that when one woman with four boys arrived, they would take over the pool from west shallow end to east deep end, from north side to south side. Some of the other families, crowded out by five people, would collect their children and leave. It’s hard to have fun when you find yourself in the middle of someone else’s game (boys) or laps (woman). The woman, whose personality resembled Lucy van Pelt’s, never seemed to notice the disruption they brought. That obliviousness bothered me most. (To be fair, some families greeted her, so she was known in the neighborhood.)

Other parents bring younger children, then don’t supervise them. The area is full of hazards, including sprinklers that are easy for running kids to trip over, but they’re let loose anyway, come what may. Some run around screaming. A few who spot the local wildlife—often rabbits, sometimes baby rabbits—chase and terrorize it. My favorite was the trio who jumped up to grab the lowest branches of one of the struggling crab apples, then stripped all the leaves off. Bored with that, and with no parents in sight, they broke off the lower branches they could reach. I said something to them, but they stopped only a moment, then ignored me. (Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.) When I came out the next day, the devastation under the tree made it look like a major storm had blown through.

The other thing I notice is how much stuff people leave behind. Pool toys and noodles. Floats. Towels. Action figures. Bottles. Shoes and articles of clothing. Pool users leave something behind almost every day. When I was a kid millennia ago, my brother and I didn’t lose anything or leave it behind. We didn’t have much, and if you lost something you weren’t going to get a replacement or something else to console you.

This brings me to a different topic—the building’s bike room. For a long time it was full of bikes. I noticed many, probably most, of them had flat tires and other signs of neglect, like dust, cobwebs, and cocoons. Some remained untouched for years, presumably abandoned since tenant turnover rate is substantial. Except for the rust and grime of neglect, most appear to be in okay shape. That’s especially true of some of the abandoned children’s bikes. They’ve been there so long that the former owners must be in middle school (or higher) by now.

Every now and then management purges some bikes they can’t account for, but not all. Every time I see these still useful bikes hanging or lying there, getting dirtier and more banged up, I wonder if the former owners realized how many people would appreciate having one of those rusting conveyances. There’s even a bike shop in the area where teenage workers learn how to repair bikes while earning a refurbished bike for themselves. I’m floored by the waste, which was a luxury that only a few could indulge in not so many generations ago.

Bother the bunnies, trash the trees, waste what you have—there’s more where that came from.

Abandoned children’s bikes. Some still had some use left in them. Someone even left training wheels behind.

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Abandoned by the pool. People leave stuff like this behind all the time. This disappeared after a week, probably picked up by the maintenance folks when they realized it wasn’t going to be claimed.

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And, for good measure, three of the dozens of bikes abandoned on the University of Chicago campus. When I was a student, every day I wished for a bike. These folks? Apparently not.

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“A letter to the normals from a person with severe chronic pain”

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I found this posted without attribution on the Patients Like Me site and repeat it without comment.

Having chronic pain means many things change, and a lot of them are invisible. Unlike having cancer or being hurt in an accident, most people do not understand even a little about chronic pain and its effects, and of those that think they know, many are actually misinformed.

In the spirit of informing those who wish to understand: These are the things that I would like you to understand about me before you judge me.

Please understand that being sick doesn’t mean I’m not still a human being. I have to spend most of my day in considerable pain and exhaustion, and if you visit, sometimes I probably don’t seem like much fun to be with, but I’m still me, stuck inside this body. I still worry about work, my family, my friends, and most of the time, I’d still like to hear you talk about yours, too.

Please understand the difference between “happy” and “healthy”. When you’ve got the flu, you probably feel miserable with it, but I’ve been sick for years. I can’t be miserable all the time. In fact, I work hard at not being miserable. So, if you’re talking to me and I sound happy, it means I’m happy. that’s all. It doesn’t mean that I’m not in a lot of pain, or extremely tired, or that I’m getting better, or any of those things. Please don’t say, “Oh, you’re sounding better!” or “But you look so healthy!” I am merely coping. I am sounding happy and trying to look normal. If you want to comment on that, you’re welcome.

Please understand that being able to stand up for ten minutes doesn’t necessarily mean that I can stand up for twenty minutes, or an hour. Just because I managed to stand up for thirty minutes yesterday doesn’t mean that I can do the same today. With a lot of diseases you’re either paralyzed, or you can move. With this one, it gets more confusing everyday. It can be like a yo-yo. I never know from day to day, how I am going to feel when I wake up. In most cases, I never know from minute to minute. That is one of the hardest and most frustrating components of chronic pain.

Please repeat the above paragraph substituting, “sitting”, “walking”, “thinking”, “concentrating”, “being sociable” and so on, it applies to everything. That’s what chronic pain does to you.

Please understand that chronic pain is variable. It’s quite possible (for many, it’s common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I’ll have trouble getting to the next room. Please don’t attack me when I’m ill by saying, “But you did it before!” or “Oh, come on, I know you can do this!” If you want me to do something, then ask if I can. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel a previous commitment at the last minute. If this happens, please do not take it personally. If you are able, please try to always remember how very lucky you are, to be physically able to do all of the things that you can do.

Please understand that “getting out and doing things” does not make me feel better, and can often make me seriously worse. You don’t know what I go through or how I suffer in my own private time. Telling me that I need to exercise, or do some things to “get my mind off of it”, may frustrate me to tears, and is not correct. If I was capable of doing some things any or all of the time, don’t you know that I would? I am working with my doctors and I am doing what I am supposed to do. Another statement that hurts is, “You just need to push yourself more, try harder”. Obviously, chronic pain can deal with the whole body, or be localized to specific areas. Sometimes participating in a single activity for a short or a long period of time can cause more damage and physical pain than you could ever imagine. Not to mention the recovery time, which can be intense. You can’t always read it on my face or in my body language. Also, chronic pain may cause secondary depression (wouldn’t you get depressed and down if you were hurting constantly for months or years?), but it is not created by depression.

Please understand that if I say I have to sit down, lie down, stay in bed, or take these pills now, that probably means that I do have to do it right now, it can’t be put off or forgotten just because I’m somewhere, or I’m right in the middle of doing something. Chronic pain does not forgive, nor does it wait for anyone.

If you want to suggest a cure to me, please don’t. It’s not because I don’t appreciate the thought, and it’s not because I don’t want to get well. Lord knows that isn’t true. In all likelihood, if you’ve heard of it or tried it, so have I. In some cases, I have been made sicker, not better. This can involve side effects or allergic reactions, as is the case with herbal remedies. It also includes failure, which in and of itself can make me feel even lower. If there were something that cured, or even helped people with my form of chronic pain, then we’d know about it. There is worldwide networking (both on and off the Internet) between people with chronic pain. If something worked, we would KNOW. It’s definitely not for lack of trying. If, after reading this, you still feel the need to suggest a cure, then so be it. I may take what you said and discuss it with my doctor.

If I seem touchy, it’s probably because I am. It’s not how I try to be. As a matter of fact, I try very hard to be normal. I hope you will try to understand. I have been, and am still, going through a lot. Chronic pain is hard for you to understand unless you have had it. It wreaks havoc on the body and the mind. It is exhausting and exasperating. Almost all the time, I know that I am doing my best to cope with this, and live my life to the best of my ability. I ask you to bear with me, and accept me as I am. I know that you cannot literally understand my situation unless you have been in my shoes, but as much as is possible, I am asking you to try to be understanding in general.

In many ways I depend on you, people who are not sick. I need you to visit me when I am too sick to go out. Sometimes I need you help me with the shopping, the cooking or the cleaning. I may need you to take me to the doctor, or to the store. You are my link to the “normalcy” of life. You can help me to keep in touch with the parts of life that I miss and fully intend to undertake again, just as soon as I am able.

I know that I asked a lot from you, and I do thank you for listening. It really does mean a lot.

Thank you.

As election day approaches, the answer is blowing in the wind

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Election Day
Election signs in aging snowpile

In Chicago, the only way to avoid election campaigning is to lock yourself into your home with the blinds down and all electronic devices off, including phones. Even the snow piles created by snow plows after the recent blizzard have been transformed into a campaigning platform (see photo).

The office of alderman has always seemed thankless to me, but that’s because I’m not a native Chicagoan who has witnessed how lucrative it can be. Whether the job is thankless or rewarding, the candidates take the campaign seriously. In my ward, the incumbent sent a newsletter at about the same time a challenger dropped off fliers that tout her as a “wife, attorney, and community activist.” Am I supposed to be impressed? Most adults are or have been a wife, husband, or partner. So she is just like everyone else, which is probably meant to be reassuring. Attorney? I’m one of those who thinks politics is already too dominated by too many lawyers, whose mindset tends toward sometimes narrow interpretation rather than action, inspiration, or leadership. Community activist? Now she’s just trying to ride on President Obama’s coattails. If peered deeply enough at the correct angle into my own background, I too might claim a moment of community activism, maybe, especially if it would promote my career in politics.

She goes on to outline the ward’s woes and what she would do to fix them. There’s nothing insightful in her list — for one, anyone and everyone can see that Stony Island Boulevard should be bustling with traffic and commerce but isn’t. Many of the businesses found along what should be a thriving boulevard are small, with barred windows and gated doors presenting an uninviting front to anyone passing through. What’s she going to do to change that?

Indeed, if listing the litany of issues that plague the ward were enough, this challenger, and others like her, is off to a good start. But even I (not a wife, attorney, or community activist) can chart the issues. What I can’t do, because it’s not something I’ve looked into, is explain how I would address and try to solve them. She doesn’t, either. How can she attract new businesses? What can she do to eliminate the impression of poverty, crime, and blight the barred windows and gated doors create? What would she do that the incumbent hasn’t and how? Through the flyer, she had an opportunity to outline not only a vision for the ward, but a plan. She failed to do either, and also failed to give me a reason to vote for her above all others. At the least, the incumbent can point to accomplishments, but a challenger has to do more. He or she has to show not only what needs to be done, but how they would do it and why. Words aren’t enough.

The office of alderman is not lofty, but it is visible. We expect mainly that our streets will be protected, our children will receive a good (or at least adequate) education, our businesses will be encouraged, and our potholes will be fixed, and that we’ll enjoy basic services. If Candidate B wants to unseat Incumbent A, it’s not too much to ask how she is different and better. Is it too much to answer?

Space vs. Face

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In “Hot Social Networking Site Cools as Facebook Grows” by Tim Arango, Erin Polley captures MySpace’s decline:

“To me, it was kind of a precursor to how Facebook is now, where everyone is on it, and it’s almost a necessity,” said Ms. Polley, who added that she had not logged on to MySpace in years because it became “amateurish” and “boorish” and too focused on celebrities and music.

“Every time I logged on it was just messages from bands I barely heard of,” she said. “Facebook allows you to actually connect with real people, rather than bands or celebrities.”

The corollary is that, because MySpace site is klunky, slow to load, and focused on promoting minor musicians that few young people and fewer older people know, there just aren’t that many people I know on MySpace to “friend.” Many who began on MySpace gravitated to Facebook, where the focus is on a clean interface and shared status updates, photos, videos, and links — the very things people might discuss if they were face to face. Even my favorite musicians moved over to Facebook, which now faces the challenge of staying ahead of its base without mucking up its interface. Facebook does show periodic signs of trying to alienate its users through functionality and design changes and alterations to privacy settings, nearly all of which seem to upset a large number of users who prefer consistency and seamlessness. Those who don’t learn from the competitor’s past are just as doomed.

It’s easy to forget early starter classmates.com, which still charges an annual fee just so you can see who signed your guest book and have access to other weakly implemented features that Facebook offers freely. How that model survives and how long it will continue to do so is a mystery to me — more of my classmates are on Facebook than ever signed onto Classmates, paid or unpaid. Not that Classmates has been bad for me — I’ve reconnected with a few people through it. But that’s the key — only a few, and we quickly took the conversation off Classmates and its awful interface.

As for the unknown person (possibly not a classmate) who recently signed my guestbook — find me on Facebook.

Cherry picking communications (and tweets)

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In this Gizmodo article, the author takes the TSA Twitter team to task for flippancIy. While Americans are debating the extent of fourth amendment rights and videos of travelers having to tolerate gropings from TSA agents of a nature generally reserved for spouses, partners, and friends with benefits, Gizmodo quotes the TSA Twitter team’s tweets:

#TSA Travel Advice for Pilgrims: Clothing with large buckles and blunderbusses at checkpoints could cause delays. #holiday #travel #security

And:

#TSA Travel Advice: Be on the lookout for turkeys with “fowl” intent. #holiday #travel #security

followed by a few bizarre responses to other tweeters, shown on the Gizmodo post.

In the comments, “Blogger Bob,” purportedly a TSA tweeter, responds:

Hey Gizmodo – nice way to cherry pick the tweets. Seeing yesterday was the busiest travel day of the year, I tweeted far more than I usually do. I tweeted mostly travel tips and peppered them with some really intentionally corny Thanksgiving jokes. And yes, there was some two way communication. Is it a bad thing for a government agency to sound human?

If “Blogger Bob” is the genuine article, then his response throws the TSA’s standards of professionalism into even greater shadow. A public relations or communications pro knows that the media and the public do cherry pick any organization’s messages, like heat-seeking missiles intent on finding those that are incendiary, wrong-headed, or, in this case, juvenile and inappropriate to the situation and the nation’s mood. People focus on and remember poorly chosen messages as well as moments of poor leadership. For example, how many have not forgotten George W. Bush’s “heckuva job” comment as FEMA floundered in the wake of Hurricane Katrina under Michael D. Brown? Solid communications are the common norm, while gaffes are rare and noteworthy. It’s not hard to figure out why people do take note; out-of-tune messages stand out, especially in circumstances that are themselves a test of our collective temper and temperament.

We expect a toy maker to be clever, cute, creative, and charming in its communications — until there’s a recall because of faulty or even dangerous design. Then we expect them to speak to us in a way that conveys a blend of corporate professionalism, empathy, and humanity. Flippant comments and adolescent humor don’t cut it.

The TSA is charged with striving to keep us safe during our business and leisure travels. They require our full cooperation as they scan, grope, and search us in their mission to protect us from the acts of terror that we fear and dread. The least we should require of the TSA is that their communications, which are part of their public face, and their communicators like “Blogger Bob,” convey the gravitas that demonstrates their appreciation of and commitment to that public trust. The TSA needs professional communicators, not standup comics.

The nightmare that never ends

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The BP oil leak in the Gulf of Mexico is sickening, beyond the fact that 11 men died needlessly, leaving bewildered and bereaved families behind. I’ve avoided most of the news and photos about it because it makes me ill. Not simply upset or disturbed, which are natural reactions, but physically ill. Ill for the Gulf people whose hardships seem never to end, for the wildlife whose mute suffering speaks volumes, and for the environment that won’t recover in my lifetime, or those of generations of descendants.

My protective shell is imperfect. There’s so much news, most of it bad, that some gets through. Today I saw a Yahoo News headline about sea creatures congregating near the shore, while birds soaked in oil crawl off into the marshes, never to be seen again. That image alone breaks my heart. But my heart is a small thing in a sea of loss and despair.

In the early hours of the morning, I dreamed as though from a future vantage point that the well was never contained, that in time the oceans turned to oil, then the earth. It wasn’t just me who was helpless to stop it. It was all of us.

Right now I don’t care whose fault it is or who is accusing who of what. I want it plugged so that not one drop of oil ever escapes from it again. I wanted it plugged or diverted now, not in a few months when possibly — possibly! — relief wells may — may! — alleviate the volume. I want all the best engineering minds to focus their theoretical thoughts and practical experience on this singular calamity. I want it fixed, and then I want those entrusted with power to make sure this, and anything like this, can’t and won’t happen again.

I want the suffering to end, for life to go back to normal, for birds to go back to raising their young, not crawling off in anguish to perish miserably.

I want us to break our cycle of addiction to oil and other dirty energy.

I want the clean world we’ve never had.

How not to do customer service

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Received today in response to a form I submitted. Read to after the “Original Message Follows” line and correlate that to the response.

Dear Customer,

Thank you for contacting the Philips Consumer Store.

Please reply back to this email on whta your concern is about, so we may
further assist you.

Sincerely,

[Name]
Philips Consumer Store
Customer Service
philips.us.cs@digitalriver.com

Original Message Follows:
————————
A shopper has emailed customer service with a request. The following
reasons were selected for the contact, and the specified email address
was given for contact.

Selected Reasons: Other
Shopper Email: dschirf(at)gmail.com
Shopper Comments: This was featured in an e-mail I just received: http://store.philips.com/servlet/ControllerServlet?Action=DisplayProductDetailsPage&Locale=en_US&SiteID=rpeusb2c&productID=107732500,
but it’s out of stock and there’s no way to add it to the cart.

If an associated requisition exists, the following fields were
completed.
Order ID:
Order Date:
Site ID:
Site Name:
Shopper Name:

Order Summary:

Sincerely,
Digital River

Visa debit card: Signature vs. PIN

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I’ve been curious as to why I have to sign a receipt when I use my VISA debit card to earn points in the Chase Extras program, versus keying in the PIN. This article explains it. The bank benefits.

When you sign a debit card receipt at a large retailer, the store pays your bank an average of 75 cents for every $100 spent, more than twice as much as when you punch in a four-digit code.

This also explains why many stores offer PIN only. I can’t say I blame them.

Parting shots

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During a mid-afternoon CNN program, one of the pundits being interviewed said emphatically, almost indignantly, “The Tiger Woods story is now a story for People magazine, not a story for the news magazines.” He’ll get no argument from me. So why is it the topic of a panel on CNN? A panel that admits this?

Of all the important issues that could and should be engaging our minds, capturing our emotions, and challenging our imaginations, we are reduced to gawking at a golfer and his infidelities.

Accenture, the consulting firm, dropped Woods, prompting the question, “What does golf have to do with business consulting?” The answer is, of course, nothing — unless the idea is that some c-suite executive somewhere is supposed to see Woods and think, “Tiger’s a winner. Accenture must be a winner.” If the c-suite learns about and chooses a consultant based on its sports celebrity spokesperson, why are we surprised so much of American business is a mess?

Years ago, in a previous work life, we the people (employees) received a memo from the partnership that would have been breathless if e-mail and paper could respirate. The gist was that we’re excited (as excited as dry consultants, accountants, and actuaries can be) to announce that we’ve bought some of that exorbitantly priced commercial air time during the Super Bowl to promote brand awareness of the firm.

We the people weren’t quite on board with the excitement. Like virtually every employee in the country, we felt overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated, and here we are, encouraged to be enthused about millions of dollars spent on a Super Bowl commercial — not for the beer, junk food, or consumer products traditionally beloved of football fans, but for business consulting services that only a handful of viewers would have the power to authorize, even if they were interested. A handful who, if they weren’t at the game or watching it at some exclusive gathering, were, like everyone else, at home with clicker/remote/changer in hand, ready to take a booze or biology break. True, many watch the commercials in hopes of seeing something mildly creative, clever, or amusing. I’m not convinced that this is where or how your better executives start to form or solidify their opinions of potential consulting partners — except perhaps as nonstrategic spendthrifts.

I could be very wrong, of course. From my perspective, the c-suite may as well be an alternative universe inhabited by bearded Spocks and be-daggered Uhurus.

With that in mind, I’m off to a place that, if not home, is more comfortable — and more habitable.

Merry Christmas and happy new year.