It seems like virtually everybody is taking a strike stance recently. The supposed "CHAOS" strikes Northwest Airlines were supposed to have are on a back burner now, but only for now. In the past 12 months, local newspapers have been littered with strike requests by places like Delphi Automotive. Point is: a group going on strike hardly qualifies as news around these parts.
Now Detroit Public Schools are technically picketing, even though school doesn't start until September 5th. Perhaps these striking teachers have a right to want to strike; they definitely have a right to protest the contract terms handed them: an approximate nine percent pay cut.
Does this ever feed the vicious, dark circle that is surrounding the district.
The negative influence the Detroit Public Schools has is affecting other districts in its southern suburbs, and has been for years. Neighboring Ecorse has been dealing with bankruptcy, and its school system with aging, dangerous buildings & less-than-qualified teachers. River Rouge is the worst: with a former superintendent now in jail for embezzlement, yet his accompolices still sitting on the school board, deciding the district's future.
I've followed with great interest the saga of who exactly represents Detroit schools, and shake my head at the resulting indecisions. The public decreed that the original sitting board was up to no good, and allowed the government to hand-pick their own people to manage the district. Amidst high hopes, they got pulled to earth very quickly as they proved indecisive & dealt a huge blow to an already-reeling public relations scenario. The public basically said, "Oops, we made a mistake!", and re-elected their own board.
Now, they are being accused of some of the same things that had them kicked out of their posts in the first place. But how many times can you afford to go back & forth with the balance of power?
What would any logical-thinking parent, who truly cares about their kids, do? The alternative are charter schools & out-of-district schools. They have glowing reputations, and can more or less guarantee a quality education. Detroit schools are not safe ones, no matter how many times they may say the metal detectors & extra protection are in force. How can one learn with all those distractions?
And now, the paper reports that a lot of these charter schools are turning people away, simply because their buildings cannot handle the extra enrollment. With this brewing strike, can Detroit schools really hope to improve? Student count losses, rotting infrastructure, the decline of teacher quality and unsafeness are creating this circle, which is only more fed by a district who seems willing to give up and let the entire system go to pot.
Why can't they enroll more? They can start by examining the bruised, battered sources - which can be seen with the help of a mirror.
August 29, 2006
August 27, 2006
See the "job journey"
On a long & thankfully boring Sunday, my mind has really been passive, allbeit not too creative. Today, my mind wandered over to the numerous jobs I've had since 1987. That list has been steadied a bit by the five-year stint I've had (and not enjoyed) at the airport. My goal today was to see if any of those former places are on-line, so that viewers can see where I've been.
A few simply don't exist anymore, including my first job at Photocrafts in Lincoln Park in '87. They were a photo developing & refinishing studio which existed before the advent of the digital camera.
Now, whether the boss had too much confidence in a 16-year old or was just plum out of her mind is in question, but she wanted to turn the keys to the business over to me, solo, for two weeks while she took a hastily-arranged vacation up north. I looked at it as a challenge, but was probably too young to remember legalities: I could have been in a world of trouble had I been caught at that age.
Other businesses merged, as in the two cab companies I've worked for. Some don't have the funds to go online, as was the case for Maximilian's Mexican Restaurant. Some advertise only in the print media, like Dialogue Marketing. And at least one job was won, but never taken: kitchen helper at Steak & Shake.
Here are others online, in order of work history:
http://www.heritage.com/ -- local newspaper where I was a copy boy (1989-91)
http://www.detnews.com/ -- where I was a press cleaner during the summer of 1994
http://www.hfcc.edu/ -- where I had my first paid TV job running a cable channel (1996)
http://www.grosseile.com/ -- the plateau of my career so far (1996-98)
http://www.technicolor.com/Cultures/En-Us/Home/ -- an inventory job I enjoyed more than I gave it credit for (1998-2000)
http://www.calderdairy.com/ -- another job I would immensely enjoy now that the airport has corrupted me (2000, 2001)
http://www.romulusgov.com/ -- my last (to date) job in television & the only job I've ever been officially fired from (2001)
http://www.trinitytransportation.com/ -- two separate occasions with different names (2000, 2001)... the last job I had before the airport
A few simply don't exist anymore, including my first job at Photocrafts in Lincoln Park in '87. They were a photo developing & refinishing studio which existed before the advent of the digital camera.
Now, whether the boss had too much confidence in a 16-year old or was just plum out of her mind is in question, but she wanted to turn the keys to the business over to me, solo, for two weeks while she took a hastily-arranged vacation up north. I looked at it as a challenge, but was probably too young to remember legalities: I could have been in a world of trouble had I been caught at that age.
Other businesses merged, as in the two cab companies I've worked for. Some don't have the funds to go online, as was the case for Maximilian's Mexican Restaurant. Some advertise only in the print media, like Dialogue Marketing. And at least one job was won, but never taken: kitchen helper at Steak & Shake.
Here are others online, in order of work history:
http://www.heritage.com/ -- local newspaper where I was a copy boy (1989-91)
http://www.detnews.com/ -- where I was a press cleaner during the summer of 1994
http://www.hfcc.edu/ -- where I had my first paid TV job running a cable channel (1996)
http://www.grosseile.com/ -- the plateau of my career so far (1996-98)
http://www.technicolor.com/Cultures/En-Us/Home/ -- an inventory job I enjoyed more than I gave it credit for (1998-2000)
http://www.calderdairy.com/ -- another job I would immensely enjoy now that the airport has corrupted me (2000, 2001)
http://www.romulusgov.com/ -- my last (to date) job in television & the only job I've ever been officially fired from (2001)
http://www.trinitytransportation.com/ -- two separate occasions with different names (2000, 2001)... the last job I had before the airport
August 24, 2006
Clearing out political garbage
There is bound to be rhetoric, or garbage, no matter where you go to for business or pleasure. Any time you get two people working on the same thing or same place, you are guaranteed conflict, in my opinion. Personal feuds can spark that easily, as can political feuds, which are part of the game.
But when something mothballs into something that can make a newspaper front page, and keep that "record" spotless term after term, you know you have to clean out the political garbage that person stands for, with hopes they will never run again for office.
Former Detroit City Councilman Alonzo Bates is being investigated for the billionth time; this time over knowingly putting his gardener/yardman on the city's payroll for mowing his own personal lawn. Just as knowingly, Bates knew it was wrong & kept telling this hire that "I could get in trouble for this."
The shutdowns that can affect certain brains can be astounding. If Bates knew it was wrong, why did he do it? Why did he balance his "concern level" with satisfaction that the job was being done, without the funds coming out of his own pocket? If Bates points to himself as a self-made man, I would doubt that with no question. And if the yardman was truly Bates' friend, why would he allow this blackmail to take place? Why didn't he stop Bates at about the tenth mention of wrongdoing, and ask him to stop & think it over? Did that person not think that Bates' credibility could be at stake?
If a jury or related body can't figure out the obvious ending to this case without more than a few hours' deliberation, then they are just as clueless as this pair is.
It's all about the soap opera that Detroit politics has been ever since I was in grade school. Now I had the chance to serve some local governments in my old position as video coordinator, and I rang in with the minority opinion of equality. No favors, no special requests, nothing done at all without considering the needs of the others under my employ.
I truly was out there to help, and I'll bet my "story" would have been buried in the back page, behind all these sensationalistic articles we read today. Headlines have been cheapened, and I would not have wanted a part of it. The satisfaction level in my mind & heart surpasses what anyone else can write about me.
Morals in politics do not just apply to those in office, though. It applies to everyone working with their assorted staffs, trying to do their city good.
I've not ruled out a return to my old posts in the future; I loved being professional while providing professional services for a city. It's only too bad that honesty, fairness, and no behind-the-scenes action can't be placed on a resume for their perusal.
I would only end up being their political garbage.
But when something mothballs into something that can make a newspaper front page, and keep that "record" spotless term after term, you know you have to clean out the political garbage that person stands for, with hopes they will never run again for office.
Former Detroit City Councilman Alonzo Bates is being investigated for the billionth time; this time over knowingly putting his gardener/yardman on the city's payroll for mowing his own personal lawn. Just as knowingly, Bates knew it was wrong & kept telling this hire that "I could get in trouble for this."
The shutdowns that can affect certain brains can be astounding. If Bates knew it was wrong, why did he do it? Why did he balance his "concern level" with satisfaction that the job was being done, without the funds coming out of his own pocket? If Bates points to himself as a self-made man, I would doubt that with no question. And if the yardman was truly Bates' friend, why would he allow this blackmail to take place? Why didn't he stop Bates at about the tenth mention of wrongdoing, and ask him to stop & think it over? Did that person not think that Bates' credibility could be at stake?
If a jury or related body can't figure out the obvious ending to this case without more than a few hours' deliberation, then they are just as clueless as this pair is.
It's all about the soap opera that Detroit politics has been ever since I was in grade school. Now I had the chance to serve some local governments in my old position as video coordinator, and I rang in with the minority opinion of equality. No favors, no special requests, nothing done at all without considering the needs of the others under my employ.
I truly was out there to help, and I'll bet my "story" would have been buried in the back page, behind all these sensationalistic articles we read today. Headlines have been cheapened, and I would not have wanted a part of it. The satisfaction level in my mind & heart surpasses what anyone else can write about me.
Morals in politics do not just apply to those in office, though. It applies to everyone working with their assorted staffs, trying to do their city good.
I've not ruled out a return to my old posts in the future; I loved being professional while providing professional services for a city. It's only too bad that honesty, fairness, and no behind-the-scenes action can't be placed on a resume for their perusal.
I would only end up being their political garbage.
August 23, 2006
Whose side are we to believe?
Two stories with issues on opposite ends of their spectrum:
* The high gas prices throughout the country has either caused: (A) a general panic over makers of gas-guzzling SUVs, who say they may never recover production levels to their 2003-04 highs; or (B) a rolling of the eyes and a no-panic mode.
Whatever happened to good-old off-road vehicles? Back in the day, you could slightly modify a truck body in order to make it off-road compatible. The SUV is more a luxury & oversize option to what was made before. Do I, as a single person with no dependents & only one roommate, need all that extra space?
Absolutely not. In fact, if you armed me with, say, GM's top seller (the Hummer I), I would go against the grain of those who swell with ownership pride. I'd be embarassed. It's just too high-class an SUV for me, too much wasted space, and too damn ugly. Heck, I don't even like regular pick-up trucks, because I consider an exposed truck bed to be wasted space. For a vehicle to be beneficial to me, I need covered storage space or passenger space. If I buy something and it either rots due to outdoor elements or flies out the truck bed onto the road, it doesn't do me any good.
But the high gas prices are the main culprit why sales, especially re-sale values, of these SUVs are way down; twenty percent in some cases. Pundits like to point to this as proof the automakers don't know what they're doing, and that they will fail without some major production adjustment.
It's not that automakers don't know what they're doing; otherwise we'd have CEOs replaced every month. With all the bureaucracies involved, however, it takes more time for changes to be implemented than what they would like. The result is that they're burned with a surging inventory that is fast losing value to its customer base.
Time to panic or no? There's plenty of room for concern, but turnarounds have happened in stranger ways before. At least I know I won't be adding to the combined misery by purchasing one of these, and bankrupting myself trying to keep it on the road.
* Jennifer Granholm or Richard DeVos for Michigan governor?
I laugh when the incumbent Granholm says that her plan is working, and the people need to practice patience. Every day, the newspapers say the economy is sinking & taking us along with it. Unlike the SUV issue, I participate in the local economy every day, and I know when it's taking a hit. There's been three years to address this issue, and it's not been taken care of.
If you consider the running of a state government as a business, why not get a businessman to do it? DeVos headed Amway for a few years, and did pretty well. He goes against my party lines, but isn't it sometimes the best thing to vote for who you think will do the job best?
Why two parties can't even agree on a simple point like that sums up the nature of politics as a whole, and why it hasn't interested me in a career.
I'm just looking for results for the little man - before he turns into a speck of dust.
* The high gas prices throughout the country has either caused: (A) a general panic over makers of gas-guzzling SUVs, who say they may never recover production levels to their 2003-04 highs; or (B) a rolling of the eyes and a no-panic mode.
Whatever happened to good-old off-road vehicles? Back in the day, you could slightly modify a truck body in order to make it off-road compatible. The SUV is more a luxury & oversize option to what was made before. Do I, as a single person with no dependents & only one roommate, need all that extra space?
Absolutely not. In fact, if you armed me with, say, GM's top seller (the Hummer I), I would go against the grain of those who swell with ownership pride. I'd be embarassed. It's just too high-class an SUV for me, too much wasted space, and too damn ugly. Heck, I don't even like regular pick-up trucks, because I consider an exposed truck bed to be wasted space. For a vehicle to be beneficial to me, I need covered storage space or passenger space. If I buy something and it either rots due to outdoor elements or flies out the truck bed onto the road, it doesn't do me any good.
But the high gas prices are the main culprit why sales, especially re-sale values, of these SUVs are way down; twenty percent in some cases. Pundits like to point to this as proof the automakers don't know what they're doing, and that they will fail without some major production adjustment.
It's not that automakers don't know what they're doing; otherwise we'd have CEOs replaced every month. With all the bureaucracies involved, however, it takes more time for changes to be implemented than what they would like. The result is that they're burned with a surging inventory that is fast losing value to its customer base.
Time to panic or no? There's plenty of room for concern, but turnarounds have happened in stranger ways before. At least I know I won't be adding to the combined misery by purchasing one of these, and bankrupting myself trying to keep it on the road.
* Jennifer Granholm or Richard DeVos for Michigan governor?
I laugh when the incumbent Granholm says that her plan is working, and the people need to practice patience. Every day, the newspapers say the economy is sinking & taking us along with it. Unlike the SUV issue, I participate in the local economy every day, and I know when it's taking a hit. There's been three years to address this issue, and it's not been taken care of.
If you consider the running of a state government as a business, why not get a businessman to do it? DeVos headed Amway for a few years, and did pretty well. He goes against my party lines, but isn't it sometimes the best thing to vote for who you think will do the job best?
Why two parties can't even agree on a simple point like that sums up the nature of politics as a whole, and why it hasn't interested me in a career.
I'm just looking for results for the little man - before he turns into a speck of dust.
August 22, 2006
Online dating: Reference tool
The closest thing to a 30-second informercial these days on TV (well, on every channel I seem to switch to) is the one from "eharmony.com". It tells you to "just look at who we've put together through this great internet dating service!"
If you're expecting complete & guaranteed results, who's kidding whom here? One of the first things my computer teacher taught me in 1979: Computers are stupid without human interaction.
How can you start dating without human interaction? Things are best done face-to-face. For instance, I have never liked telephone conversations because I can always get along with the party better if they're right there with me.
A movie I saw in high school taught me about the process of subliminal messaging; where you may say one thing to please another, but think exactly the opposite. Do they love you, or do they just say that because they love an accessory about you, not you yourself?
Even the presence of the new webcam last spring didn't make things any more truthful, when the roommate tried to set me up with a Phillipino girl. I welcomed the move as an opportunity to chat only; but even in that thin guise I could tell she had an agenda I wanted to avoid. How can you really learn about a person based on computers alone? It almost resembles reading a boring fiction novel.
As my love life has been non-existent as my million-dollar bank account, I must admit I did take a free offer to join an online group this past weekend; but note it is for reference only. If I am using it just as a reference tool to gauge what is out there, and determine whether it's legitimate, then no harm done. Confidentiality is assured; you never have to use your actual name. Members can flirt with each other, but no secrets are given away. You choose a candidate only when ready to choose.
Yet, I have the power not to choose... So I will not let a system of gigabytes tell me who my mate will be.
But if it can clue me in to potential pitfalls (as it was with the Phillipino girl), and do its thing as a reference point only, what's the harm in joining the crowd & supposedly going 21st century from a distance?
If you're expecting complete & guaranteed results, who's kidding whom here? One of the first things my computer teacher taught me in 1979: Computers are stupid without human interaction.
How can you start dating without human interaction? Things are best done face-to-face. For instance, I have never liked telephone conversations because I can always get along with the party better if they're right there with me.
A movie I saw in high school taught me about the process of subliminal messaging; where you may say one thing to please another, but think exactly the opposite. Do they love you, or do they just say that because they love an accessory about you, not you yourself?
Even the presence of the new webcam last spring didn't make things any more truthful, when the roommate tried to set me up with a Phillipino girl. I welcomed the move as an opportunity to chat only; but even in that thin guise I could tell she had an agenda I wanted to avoid. How can you really learn about a person based on computers alone? It almost resembles reading a boring fiction novel.
As my love life has been non-existent as my million-dollar bank account, I must admit I did take a free offer to join an online group this past weekend; but note it is for reference only. If I am using it just as a reference tool to gauge what is out there, and determine whether it's legitimate, then no harm done. Confidentiality is assured; you never have to use your actual name. Members can flirt with each other, but no secrets are given away. You choose a candidate only when ready to choose.
Yet, I have the power not to choose... So I will not let a system of gigabytes tell me who my mate will be.
But if it can clue me in to potential pitfalls (as it was with the Phillipino girl), and do its thing as a reference point only, what's the harm in joining the crowd & supposedly going 21st century from a distance?
August 20, 2006
Before spelling them out, learn to spell
I just came home from some running around with the roommate. Steve visited his father in the hospital, and I stuck around Lincoln Park to bowl while I waited for him.
Just before I reach that bowling alley, I usually pass a discount furniture dealer two blocks away. Now I have always been wary of discount dealers & rent-to-own places. It seems they would be the types to tack on unheard-of finance charges & unnecessary taxes to your rental bill, much like the way banks (and Sears) like to charge outrageous interest for having an account with them.
As a result, my respect for those rental places is muted, at best. This specific dealer always has their front windows littered with sign after sign proclaiming "Sale! Everything must go!" Strange, that usually means they're going out of business.
I meant to ho-hum my way through the property, looking at the signs & sighing at their visual pollution. There was even more of that from where that came from.
Who contracts these signs? Definitely not spelling majors, and this is a pain to me. I know not everyone can spell as well as me, but these are very simple oversights.
One sign proclaimed: "Lots of discount's". Since when do you put an apostrophe on that word? It means the discount is possessing something. Discounts do not possess anything; they are of their own worth. Another sign: "Great value's". Is there somebody employed there with the name of "Value"? Again, it's taken as a possessive word; when it's obviously not supposed to be.
There were multiple copies of these signs posted on the entire front facade. Boy, this was an embarassment. I passed by, thinking how they hadn't done their homework on the latest clearance sale.
Or, as the last sign put it, "Clearence Sale." No, no, no! Not every word in the English language is spelled as it's pronounced!
I'm sorry; it just drives me batty. If this is supposed to be a professional & reputable business, why are they communicating the opposite message?
My ex-girlfriend Holly's sister Michelle was a window painter back in the day for her local butcher shop. The only thing she told me about her work was: "You have to know how to spell in order to get the customers' attention." Well, my attention was gained today... but my respect didn't quite come with it.
We have to mind our P's & Q's in everything we do; that's just not happening. And we're left to wonder why Japan & all other developing countries are topping ours in education quality.
Just before I reach that bowling alley, I usually pass a discount furniture dealer two blocks away. Now I have always been wary of discount dealers & rent-to-own places. It seems they would be the types to tack on unheard-of finance charges & unnecessary taxes to your rental bill, much like the way banks (and Sears) like to charge outrageous interest for having an account with them.
As a result, my respect for those rental places is muted, at best. This specific dealer always has their front windows littered with sign after sign proclaiming "Sale! Everything must go!" Strange, that usually means they're going out of business.
I meant to ho-hum my way through the property, looking at the signs & sighing at their visual pollution. There was even more of that from where that came from.
Who contracts these signs? Definitely not spelling majors, and this is a pain to me. I know not everyone can spell as well as me, but these are very simple oversights.
One sign proclaimed: "Lots of discount's". Since when do you put an apostrophe on that word? It means the discount is possessing something. Discounts do not possess anything; they are of their own worth. Another sign: "Great value's". Is there somebody employed there with the name of "Value"? Again, it's taken as a possessive word; when it's obviously not supposed to be.
There were multiple copies of these signs posted on the entire front facade. Boy, this was an embarassment. I passed by, thinking how they hadn't done their homework on the latest clearance sale.
Or, as the last sign put it, "Clearence Sale." No, no, no! Not every word in the English language is spelled as it's pronounced!
I'm sorry; it just drives me batty. If this is supposed to be a professional & reputable business, why are they communicating the opposite message?
My ex-girlfriend Holly's sister Michelle was a window painter back in the day for her local butcher shop. The only thing she told me about her work was: "You have to know how to spell in order to get the customers' attention." Well, my attention was gained today... but my respect didn't quite come with it.
We have to mind our P's & Q's in everything we do; that's just not happening. And we're left to wonder why Japan & all other developing countries are topping ours in education quality.
Thoughts stem from bottle returns
Now, just before I encountered that lovely display mess described above, I headed over to Kroger to drop off three months' worth of empty bottles. While waiting the customary 15 minutes for my turn, my thoughts turned to the friend who was actually responsible for bringing the bottle return option to Michigan, and hence, the country.
Michiganders around my area know the name Pam Frucci well. She is a top environmental activist, proud of using the old New England proverb: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without." One of her most interesting traditions was sending the same recycled Christmas card to a certain friend of hers every year, inscribing a new message for the year wherever there was space. The friend would do the same in kind. I actually attempted to do this a few years ago, but she never caught on to my plan.
Additionally, when her cars finally break down, she takes them to the local "auto smash" and watches them being made into a hot steel liquid that can be recycled for use in a new automobile. I really believe this is a good idea to do to all cars, once the most useful spare parts are removed.
Recycling is first & foremost on her agenda, and she single-handedly speared Michigan's 1976 "bottle bill" that turned bottles into instant cash for the handlers. However, I can still remember when all bottles were labeled "No Deposit, No Return". These excess bottles were actually more fun to get rid of when I was younger, as the Krogers of the day had a huge manual conveyor where you placed the six-pack carton of bottles, and pushed it down the track from the other side. I loved doing this, especially when the carton had a long way to go, and would finally make contact with something, or else fall off & break.
Pam recently commented that although the original bill went a long way, she'd like to see it applied to water & fruit juice bottles. I couldn't agree more. These bottles are made of plastic, just like the pop bottles I recycled today. Why does the liquids inside them determine whether or not they can be recycled?
Additionally, I spent seven years working with her on over 100 different local cable TV shows - her name was a household word. I really enjoyed working with her, and wish she still had her shows on. Ironically, the order for her to stop the shows came from me, but this was due to a job decision I needed to make when I was a TV coordinator.
She is 73 and is still active as ever. Pam always pops into my mind whenever empty bottles get scooped out of my trunk, and that's a good sign for all Michiganders. Measly self-profit aside, it's doing wonders for an environment we've been accused of not protecting enough.
Michiganders around my area know the name Pam Frucci well. She is a top environmental activist, proud of using the old New England proverb: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without." One of her most interesting traditions was sending the same recycled Christmas card to a certain friend of hers every year, inscribing a new message for the year wherever there was space. The friend would do the same in kind. I actually attempted to do this a few years ago, but she never caught on to my plan.
Additionally, when her cars finally break down, she takes them to the local "auto smash" and watches them being made into a hot steel liquid that can be recycled for use in a new automobile. I really believe this is a good idea to do to all cars, once the most useful spare parts are removed.
Recycling is first & foremost on her agenda, and she single-handedly speared Michigan's 1976 "bottle bill" that turned bottles into instant cash for the handlers. However, I can still remember when all bottles were labeled "No Deposit, No Return". These excess bottles were actually more fun to get rid of when I was younger, as the Krogers of the day had a huge manual conveyor where you placed the six-pack carton of bottles, and pushed it down the track from the other side. I loved doing this, especially when the carton had a long way to go, and would finally make contact with something, or else fall off & break.
Pam recently commented that although the original bill went a long way, she'd like to see it applied to water & fruit juice bottles. I couldn't agree more. These bottles are made of plastic, just like the pop bottles I recycled today. Why does the liquids inside them determine whether or not they can be recycled?
Additionally, I spent seven years working with her on over 100 different local cable TV shows - her name was a household word. I really enjoyed working with her, and wish she still had her shows on. Ironically, the order for her to stop the shows came from me, but this was due to a job decision I needed to make when I was a TV coordinator.
She is 73 and is still active as ever. Pam always pops into my mind whenever empty bottles get scooped out of my trunk, and that's a good sign for all Michiganders. Measly self-profit aside, it's doing wonders for an environment we've been accused of not protecting enough.
August 19, 2006
Stars within mile; I stay put
Sometimes, I don't believe what I don't do.
Whether it has something to do with my medical condition can be debated until its debaters are blue in the face, but the fact remains: Representatives from baseball's hottest team, the Tigers, will be converging within a mile of me. And I won't be going.
In twenty-three years of actively following the club through mostly losing years, I have only been to one autograph signing: that of former catcher Lance Parrish during the magical '84 run. I found out about that one through sheer luck, and my parents & I hurriedly changed clothes and headed out to the old Walt Lazar Chevrolet dealer in Taylor, where we stood in line for almost an hour. The experience actually had this budding baseball fan feeling a little flat in the end.
Parrish signed what I provided - a ballcap & club yearbook. But he looked to be the type to focus on the end of the line, hoping that end would come soon. The impression I received was that this was something he "had to do in order to foster good public relations." I shouldn't have been able to spot that on my own at age 13, and I didn't: he helped put the thought in my head.
Fast forward to this year, and the team is the hottest thing going. "Fanatic U" is the sporting goods store down the street from me, and they must have connections, because they've had no fewer than four different autograph signings there this year. If I read the marquee on the window right, four of them are to be there within the next week.
Why don't I go?
Frankly, I've actually had better autograph experiences with PBA bowlers. I've been to four of their events in the twenty-five years I've followed that sport, and you can tell they are gracious to be where they are, eager to sign the autographs & pose for the photos, all with legitimate smiles on their faces. The baseball players, meanwhile, don't seem to hide their disdain for the autograph ritual.
If you recall the aftermath of the 1994-95 baseball strike, you read where players were going to "make more of an effort to please the fan", in order to win them back. I would have to wonder if, now that the fan has been won back, they revert to their old ho-hum ways, and try to rush things through.
Oh, another difference: PBA autographs come complete with your admission price into the event. With baseball, you have to pay out-of-pocket for everything you want signed. And this for the sport that still pays players $20 million a year to do what they do?
First impressions, no matter how dated they may seem, are important, as are positive communication & sincerity.
I simply don't have the trust built up that ballplayers possess these traits. Their money always seems to do the talking for them.
Whether it has something to do with my medical condition can be debated until its debaters are blue in the face, but the fact remains: Representatives from baseball's hottest team, the Tigers, will be converging within a mile of me. And I won't be going.
In twenty-three years of actively following the club through mostly losing years, I have only been to one autograph signing: that of former catcher Lance Parrish during the magical '84 run. I found out about that one through sheer luck, and my parents & I hurriedly changed clothes and headed out to the old Walt Lazar Chevrolet dealer in Taylor, where we stood in line for almost an hour. The experience actually had this budding baseball fan feeling a little flat in the end.
Parrish signed what I provided - a ballcap & club yearbook. But he looked to be the type to focus on the end of the line, hoping that end would come soon. The impression I received was that this was something he "had to do in order to foster good public relations." I shouldn't have been able to spot that on my own at age 13, and I didn't: he helped put the thought in my head.
Fast forward to this year, and the team is the hottest thing going. "Fanatic U" is the sporting goods store down the street from me, and they must have connections, because they've had no fewer than four different autograph signings there this year. If I read the marquee on the window right, four of them are to be there within the next week.
Why don't I go?
Frankly, I've actually had better autograph experiences with PBA bowlers. I've been to four of their events in the twenty-five years I've followed that sport, and you can tell they are gracious to be where they are, eager to sign the autographs & pose for the photos, all with legitimate smiles on their faces. The baseball players, meanwhile, don't seem to hide their disdain for the autograph ritual.
If you recall the aftermath of the 1994-95 baseball strike, you read where players were going to "make more of an effort to please the fan", in order to win them back. I would have to wonder if, now that the fan has been won back, they revert to their old ho-hum ways, and try to rush things through.
Oh, another difference: PBA autographs come complete with your admission price into the event. With baseball, you have to pay out-of-pocket for everything you want signed. And this for the sport that still pays players $20 million a year to do what they do?
First impressions, no matter how dated they may seem, are important, as are positive communication & sincerity.
I simply don't have the trust built up that ballplayers possess these traits. Their money always seems to do the talking for them.
August 18, 2006
"Abandoned" redefined - eerily
One of my links to the right - mallsofamerica.com - is like free pennies from heaven to me, who enjoys viewing places & people from an earlier, though not archaic, age.
Years ago, I attended an anniversary celebration of the local mall, Southland, and they had a photo display of what the mall looked like around 1970, the year of its opening. I was glued to that board for almost an hour, reliving memories. I used to enjoy the jaunts the family would take there: when the fountains were more dramatic, they had displays little kids could climb on, and a birdcage & fish tank to divert attention from the stores.
Southland has evolved; allbeit without all the wonderful little draws once associated with it. However, it still is running at near capacity, and it still draws its customer base. The same can't be said for certain malls, which have been abandoned and are awaiting the next step in their demise.
Exploring abandoned buildings & haunts has always been a hidden desire of mine, though I have the common sense to not actually do it. A link in the aforementioned site drew me to video footage of perhaps the most dillapidated & haunted mall in America: Dixie Square Mall in Harvey, Ill., which still stands 28 years after its last major store closed. Known for its appearance in the movie The Blues Brothers, it is a fascinating tale of a mall gone terribly wrong, and now gripped by ghosts & myths of legend.
A video is due for release into the genre later this year, and the site posts a link to a portion of the video. It contains some of the most haunting images of old buildings I have ever seen; 28 years of building disintegration & disrepair, completely untouched. You get thrilling views of decay, and yet a helpless feeling as well, thinking about its story & the tragedies surrounding that story (of which there are many on its own site, listed below). The underlying music, a piece from supergroup Parliament/Funkadelic only adds to the eerieness. What a great piece of art the mall is, in its own way - even though it's broken art.
For some reason, I am just drawn to this video without question, and I play it often. It can be accessed through its own website below, with additional clips, photos, press, "tragedy timeline" & mall layout provided:
http://dixiesquare.com/
(The video from the mallsofamerica.com site can be found under the July 2006 archives, one-third down the page.)
Years ago, I attended an anniversary celebration of the local mall, Southland, and they had a photo display of what the mall looked like around 1970, the year of its opening. I was glued to that board for almost an hour, reliving memories. I used to enjoy the jaunts the family would take there: when the fountains were more dramatic, they had displays little kids could climb on, and a birdcage & fish tank to divert attention from the stores.
Southland has evolved; allbeit without all the wonderful little draws once associated with it. However, it still is running at near capacity, and it still draws its customer base. The same can't be said for certain malls, which have been abandoned and are awaiting the next step in their demise.
Exploring abandoned buildings & haunts has always been a hidden desire of mine, though I have the common sense to not actually do it. A link in the aforementioned site drew me to video footage of perhaps the most dillapidated & haunted mall in America: Dixie Square Mall in Harvey, Ill., which still stands 28 years after its last major store closed. Known for its appearance in the movie The Blues Brothers, it is a fascinating tale of a mall gone terribly wrong, and now gripped by ghosts & myths of legend.
A video is due for release into the genre later this year, and the site posts a link to a portion of the video. It contains some of the most haunting images of old buildings I have ever seen; 28 years of building disintegration & disrepair, completely untouched. You get thrilling views of decay, and yet a helpless feeling as well, thinking about its story & the tragedies surrounding that story (of which there are many on its own site, listed below). The underlying music, a piece from supergroup Parliament/Funkadelic only adds to the eerieness. What a great piece of art the mall is, in its own way - even though it's broken art.
For some reason, I am just drawn to this video without question, and I play it often. It can be accessed through its own website below, with additional clips, photos, press, "tragedy timeline" & mall layout provided:
http://dixiesquare.com/
(The video from the mallsofamerica.com site can be found under the July 2006 archives, one-third down the page.)
August 17, 2006
Beauty is not to be judged
It looks like we will receive relief from the never-ending tabloid coverage surrounding the assumed murder of Jon-Benet Ramsey; a case nearly ten years old. Authorities have in custody John Mark Karr, residing in Thailand, who says her death was an "accident", that he is not an innocent man, and expressed the expected remorse... Over a ten-year old deed? Obviously, Karr is good at disguising guilt.
The tragedy is not the focus here, although I'm not downplaying its impact. Mystery solved? Perhaps.
But what remains a mystery to me is why a literal infant like Jon-Benet was being forced into beauty contests at such an early age. This has something to do with a theme touched on briefly in other areas here: that kids are not allowed to be kids. Why?
Let's look at the modern-day beauty show. It has been lambasted in all forms of media, parodied in as many forms, and serves to heighten the stereotype of women with no apparent brains. Knowledge is what will keep this country moving forward, people.
How outdated are shows like the Miss America Pagaent? Every year, the contest sets a new low for television ratings. They're burning through hosts like people burn through socks. There's no "talent competition" anymore, so we really don't know who we're getting to fill an "ambassador's" role that we'll never hear about until the next pagaent.
The money spent on the sophistication: the grown-up clothes on a child's form, and the etiquette classes they have to go through, especially for those who were Jon-Benet's age. They're learning proper runway procedure before they can even read a pre-school book? This is alarming - but to be expected in that camp.
So you might have a beautiful baby - the talk of the neighborhood and a source of personal pride. Why not let that represent your family's own beauty show and save a few bucks - and at least one life?
The tragedy is not the focus here, although I'm not downplaying its impact. Mystery solved? Perhaps.
But what remains a mystery to me is why a literal infant like Jon-Benet was being forced into beauty contests at such an early age. This has something to do with a theme touched on briefly in other areas here: that kids are not allowed to be kids. Why?
Let's look at the modern-day beauty show. It has been lambasted in all forms of media, parodied in as many forms, and serves to heighten the stereotype of women with no apparent brains. Knowledge is what will keep this country moving forward, people.
How outdated are shows like the Miss America Pagaent? Every year, the contest sets a new low for television ratings. They're burning through hosts like people burn through socks. There's no "talent competition" anymore, so we really don't know who we're getting to fill an "ambassador's" role that we'll never hear about until the next pagaent.
The money spent on the sophistication: the grown-up clothes on a child's form, and the etiquette classes they have to go through, especially for those who were Jon-Benet's age. They're learning proper runway procedure before they can even read a pre-school book? This is alarming - but to be expected in that camp.
So you might have a beautiful baby - the talk of the neighborhood and a source of personal pride. Why not let that represent your family's own beauty show and save a few bucks - and at least one life?
August 16, 2006
Oops! The old impression was the right one
Unsticking the brains & letting oxygen into them might help me sometimes.
A clarification is needed on the family reunion entry entered on Monday regarding my ex-girlfriend's son, Johnny. It's true that his grades were great this past year. But it took an explanation from my friend as to what ROTC really meant, and my thought of sharing in his achievements can now be struck from the record.
Pardon my ability to be naive, but I actually did think ROTC was a honor. I had no idea ROTC was for troubled youth. In Johnny's case, considering his rough past, this was probably a move that had to be made.
Without burdening with details, Johnny & his brother Richie have not been raised well. They had no real contact with their father, and the times that there was contact were very shady. You never had an idea exactly what he was hoping to do or say.
I lived with Tami for sixteen months in 2001-02. My third week there, his child support checks stopped coming in, and for the remaining 15 months, not one was seen. This girl was a job-hopper. I was only there since I didn't have the basis necessary for independent survival.
These kids were rambunctious to a high degree. They involved us in situations I wouldn't even touch now. This ended up being a savage neighborhood, if not crime-ridden. Kids had come a long away from the supposed fights in my day: these kids were really out to hurt each other & take out what was left on the parents or guardians.
Without a civil attitude to stand on, you can imagine school grades were secondary, and were met with indifference by the mother. I attempted to straighten them out, and my ex gave me leeway, but no support. That kind of attitude can be very hollow. Long story short, at least Johnny gave an effort & brought back better grades. Richie was too far gone, however, and I feel he'll be a blotter headliner for the rest of his life.
Now why my cousin Sharon actually commented on Johnny's ROTC membership as high praise baffles me. Perhaps it was her way of saying that she's glad he finally got the help & structure he needed. Instead of being happy as I thought I was on Monday, I shake my head on Wednesday. It wasn't a move not to be expected, but still I wonder how a situation like that can continue to grow unchecked, day by day, as they get older & move into a higher-risk category.
I'll still take credit for the academic achievements. As for anything else, I'll just quote Maury Povich every other show:
"You are not the father!"
A clarification is needed on the family reunion entry entered on Monday regarding my ex-girlfriend's son, Johnny. It's true that his grades were great this past year. But it took an explanation from my friend as to what ROTC really meant, and my thought of sharing in his achievements can now be struck from the record.
Pardon my ability to be naive, but I actually did think ROTC was a honor. I had no idea ROTC was for troubled youth. In Johnny's case, considering his rough past, this was probably a move that had to be made.
Without burdening with details, Johnny & his brother Richie have not been raised well. They had no real contact with their father, and the times that there was contact were very shady. You never had an idea exactly what he was hoping to do or say.
I lived with Tami for sixteen months in 2001-02. My third week there, his child support checks stopped coming in, and for the remaining 15 months, not one was seen. This girl was a job-hopper. I was only there since I didn't have the basis necessary for independent survival.
These kids were rambunctious to a high degree. They involved us in situations I wouldn't even touch now. This ended up being a savage neighborhood, if not crime-ridden. Kids had come a long away from the supposed fights in my day: these kids were really out to hurt each other & take out what was left on the parents or guardians.
Without a civil attitude to stand on, you can imagine school grades were secondary, and were met with indifference by the mother. I attempted to straighten them out, and my ex gave me leeway, but no support. That kind of attitude can be very hollow. Long story short, at least Johnny gave an effort & brought back better grades. Richie was too far gone, however, and I feel he'll be a blotter headliner for the rest of his life.
Now why my cousin Sharon actually commented on Johnny's ROTC membership as high praise baffles me. Perhaps it was her way of saying that she's glad he finally got the help & structure he needed. Instead of being happy as I thought I was on Monday, I shake my head on Wednesday. It wasn't a move not to be expected, but still I wonder how a situation like that can continue to grow unchecked, day by day, as they get older & move into a higher-risk category.
I'll still take credit for the academic achievements. As for anything else, I'll just quote Maury Povich every other show:
"You are not the father!"
From a supposed quiet man
I still classify myself as somewhat shy in my travels. There is none of that "charisma" that some people naturally possess when they enter a room; no force of gravity that breaks up a group & draws them to that person.
Still, it must be pointed out that progress has been made through the years, due to a maturing manner, as well as the simple thought that being, or just feeling, alone can be a killer to the psyche.
I credit my first girlfriend (1992-96) for that, though it was a trite forced. As much as I didn't initially talk freely before then, she didn't talk at all. Silence can be as horrible as being alone, so I had to force myself to come up with topics and discuss them. It was amazing how that extra effort continues to pay off up to today.
Especially in a bowling environment, free talk comes so naturally, I wonder why it can't apply to me in other situations. You place me in a bowling center with groups around me, and within minutes we're gabbing like old friends. I bowled on Sunday on the spur of the moment, and within five minutes we were discussing bowling heroes of the past, lane conditions, and were teasing the group to our far right, who were so snockered with booze they were escorted out of the center before their first game ended.
So when a friend confided last night that they can't handle themselves in social situations, to the point of being a hermit, I had to provide advice.
First: Don't feel pressure to go to an environment you think these people might enjoy. You're better off being in a place which makes you comfortable. If I was at a hockey arena, I'd be clamoring for the exits, because hockey is not in my blood. There's no chance of me sharing that love with anybody else, so it shuts down most all possibilities of communication. At your place. you're free to scope around and pick a group you may enjoy.
Second: Screen the group from a distance. No one can accuse you of staring or stalking if you just observe without becoming obvious. A person loaded with booze will not let their natural personality shine through due to being impaired. They take things to such an exaggerated level that you'll forget what you are there for. Human beings are preferred to monsters almost every time. At the same time, watch your obnoxiousness level, too.
Third: Start by commenting on the things they're doing. You will be surprised how the majority of people open up just with a compliment hurled their way. I commented appropriately on the adjoining party's first-frame strike, and the conversation immediately started from there.
Fourth: If you do something out of the ordinary (like hit a cue ball off the pool table or land a wayward dart nowhere near the board), laugh about it, rather than cringe. People around you may laugh about your ineptitiude. If you show you can take it as well, chances are they won't avoid you like the plague.
Fifth, and most important: Don't plot or expect things to happen. Don't come in armed with a script, saying "Today's the day I'll meet fifty people!" Go with just the thought of having fun in mind, and that the friendships are a bonus. You'd be surprised to notice just what comes naturally out of those situations.
Nothing is impossible if given the chance, and that's what I told the friend. All it comes down to is a good eye, good conduct, natural attitude, and a willingness to have a free personality.
Still, it must be pointed out that progress has been made through the years, due to a maturing manner, as well as the simple thought that being, or just feeling, alone can be a killer to the psyche.
I credit my first girlfriend (1992-96) for that, though it was a trite forced. As much as I didn't initially talk freely before then, she didn't talk at all. Silence can be as horrible as being alone, so I had to force myself to come up with topics and discuss them. It was amazing how that extra effort continues to pay off up to today.
Especially in a bowling environment, free talk comes so naturally, I wonder why it can't apply to me in other situations. You place me in a bowling center with groups around me, and within minutes we're gabbing like old friends. I bowled on Sunday on the spur of the moment, and within five minutes we were discussing bowling heroes of the past, lane conditions, and were teasing the group to our far right, who were so snockered with booze they were escorted out of the center before their first game ended.
So when a friend confided last night that they can't handle themselves in social situations, to the point of being a hermit, I had to provide advice.
First: Don't feel pressure to go to an environment you think these people might enjoy. You're better off being in a place which makes you comfortable. If I was at a hockey arena, I'd be clamoring for the exits, because hockey is not in my blood. There's no chance of me sharing that love with anybody else, so it shuts down most all possibilities of communication. At your place. you're free to scope around and pick a group you may enjoy.
Second: Screen the group from a distance. No one can accuse you of staring or stalking if you just observe without becoming obvious. A person loaded with booze will not let their natural personality shine through due to being impaired. They take things to such an exaggerated level that you'll forget what you are there for. Human beings are preferred to monsters almost every time. At the same time, watch your obnoxiousness level, too.
Third: Start by commenting on the things they're doing. You will be surprised how the majority of people open up just with a compliment hurled their way. I commented appropriately on the adjoining party's first-frame strike, and the conversation immediately started from there.
Fourth: If you do something out of the ordinary (like hit a cue ball off the pool table or land a wayward dart nowhere near the board), laugh about it, rather than cringe. People around you may laugh about your ineptitiude. If you show you can take it as well, chances are they won't avoid you like the plague.
Fifth, and most important: Don't plot or expect things to happen. Don't come in armed with a script, saying "Today's the day I'll meet fifty people!" Go with just the thought of having fun in mind, and that the friendships are a bonus. You'd be surprised to notice just what comes naturally out of those situations.
Nothing is impossible if given the chance, and that's what I told the friend. All it comes down to is a good eye, good conduct, natural attitude, and a willingness to have a free personality.
August 14, 2006
Big reunion equals big hit
The mention I made about family being too important to lose in the daily grind was even more evident yesterday, as I made that trek to the graduation/family reunion I found out about at the last minute. More and more, it seems that every time I go back to my hometown area, it's worth the price of gas.
Some random musings about Sunday's gathering:
* Susan, the guest of honor, made the equivilent of three guest appearances at the outdoor party today. As the focus of the party, there wasn't much chance for people to congratulate her on her high school graduation.
This only served to remind me of myself at a younger age during family birthday parties for me. This bothers me more as time passes, but I do harbor guilt that twelve people would come by to see me on those days, and I'd wind up hanging around the two older cousins exclusively.
These two were closest to my age, and we shared many things in common. However, I didn't give much credit to the other people there, namely my own parents. I understand maturity plays a part in it. But as well as I say I was raised, not acknowledging everyone more than once probably gave them an empty feeling inside.
I felt empty for Susan, but I couldn't play the lecturer. I understood it all too well from experience.
* Any worries about my cousin Sharon being upset at me over backing out on that Lansing trip two months ago were unfounded; even that honored guest understood my concerns about the car at that time. I simply worry about it breaking down on the freeway in a rural area with no cellphone to contact a wrecker. Fortunately, nobody hates me for it.
* Aunt Pat was actually fun to be around. I normally only see her at family funerals, and she's an emotional type. No emotion was seen this time. She was all lovey-dovey as usual, but she lives on her own in her 80s, and is rather lonely. This time, I do plan to follow through on seeing her before the fall. She's the matriarch of my mother's side now, and I'd like to show her some old photos & get some good family stories before we lose her.
To her credit, she's aged gracefully & still gets around well without the use of an aid.
* Sharon counsels my ex-girlfriend's two boys, who I used to worry about because Tami wasn't the best mother-teacher. Richie seems to have dropped off the earth. But Sharon had nothing but praise for Johnny, who I worked extra hard with to get good grades in school. Johnny is a bright young boy who always was polite & quiet to others. He had nothing but straight D's before I knew him. I taught him the importance of an education, and found out today he is in the local ROTC; a great honor.
I passed a message on to congratulate him. Part of me wishes I could personally celebrate his success, in spite of his mother.
* I can't play basketball anymore. When you can't block shots from a 13-year old who is a foot smaller, you thank God for bowling & mini-putt!
* Lauren, the newest addition to the family, is another well-behaved gem of my cousin Raymond's. This was my first time seeing her, and I was actually a bit jealous. She looked so peaceful, snuggled in her blanket, oblivious to the conversations & actions around her. I remember enjoying those quiet times growing up, and lament the absence of those times now. With my stress level, I'd love to be oblivious for just one day.
Family bonding is so important. If ever I become preachy in this blog, you've got the reason why.
Some random musings about Sunday's gathering:
* Susan, the guest of honor, made the equivilent of three guest appearances at the outdoor party today. As the focus of the party, there wasn't much chance for people to congratulate her on her high school graduation.
This only served to remind me of myself at a younger age during family birthday parties for me. This bothers me more as time passes, but I do harbor guilt that twelve people would come by to see me on those days, and I'd wind up hanging around the two older cousins exclusively.
These two were closest to my age, and we shared many things in common. However, I didn't give much credit to the other people there, namely my own parents. I understand maturity plays a part in it. But as well as I say I was raised, not acknowledging everyone more than once probably gave them an empty feeling inside.
I felt empty for Susan, but I couldn't play the lecturer. I understood it all too well from experience.
* Any worries about my cousin Sharon being upset at me over backing out on that Lansing trip two months ago were unfounded; even that honored guest understood my concerns about the car at that time. I simply worry about it breaking down on the freeway in a rural area with no cellphone to contact a wrecker. Fortunately, nobody hates me for it.
* Aunt Pat was actually fun to be around. I normally only see her at family funerals, and she's an emotional type. No emotion was seen this time. She was all lovey-dovey as usual, but she lives on her own in her 80s, and is rather lonely. This time, I do plan to follow through on seeing her before the fall. She's the matriarch of my mother's side now, and I'd like to show her some old photos & get some good family stories before we lose her.
To her credit, she's aged gracefully & still gets around well without the use of an aid.
* Sharon counsels my ex-girlfriend's two boys, who I used to worry about because Tami wasn't the best mother-teacher. Richie seems to have dropped off the earth. But Sharon had nothing but praise for Johnny, who I worked extra hard with to get good grades in school. Johnny is a bright young boy who always was polite & quiet to others. He had nothing but straight D's before I knew him. I taught him the importance of an education, and found out today he is in the local ROTC; a great honor.
I passed a message on to congratulate him. Part of me wishes I could personally celebrate his success, in spite of his mother.
* I can't play basketball anymore. When you can't block shots from a 13-year old who is a foot smaller, you thank God for bowling & mini-putt!
* Lauren, the newest addition to the family, is another well-behaved gem of my cousin Raymond's. This was my first time seeing her, and I was actually a bit jealous. She looked so peaceful, snuggled in her blanket, oblivious to the conversations & actions around her. I remember enjoying those quiet times growing up, and lament the absence of those times now. With my stress level, I'd love to be oblivious for just one day.
Family bonding is so important. If ever I become preachy in this blog, you've got the reason why.
Striving for dollars on Sunday
You weren't supposed to get "it" on Sundays.
That seemed so commonplace back when I was growing up in the 1970s and early '80s. Plans had to be made according to the day of the week. Sunday used to be a day of rest.
This was the thought that occurred to me as I was passing through town to get to the graduation party/family reunion detailed above. The business was Tim's Coney Island, which has undergone several metamorphises (new word?) since its original incarnation as Nugget Fine Foods.
Seeing no cars in its parking lot, I wondered whether Tim's was just another business casualty in that building. The answer was a definitive no: the restaurant was actually closed on Sunday; a business theme no longer practiced in general.
I then realized that I have been as brainwashed by the almighty dollar as the next person. You thought of nothing except going to church on Sunday. Business owners thought of religion as something important or precious. Nowadays, it makes news when something is closed on this day. Never mind what may be open 24 hours a day - six days per week used to be the rule in business. Now I may have seen the last vestige of that old rule yesterday.
This would not be a surprise in the politically correct climate of today. Removal of the Ten Commandments or anything citing religion have been all but kicked out of government buildings & places of general public nature. The consumer is always on the go, and has been trained to think as such. Not only is the dollar stretched, but it must be valuable all days of the week. Convenience has replaced observation, reflection & routine as the way society operates.
Note this is not a blog that will get preachy from a religious or secular standpoint. Sunday observances have taken a different meaning today, if not totally abandoned at all.
I don't have the power to declare what's right; but perhaps society has weaned away from start-of-the-week values, which seem to come to the forefront around Christmastime. No "X" about it.
That seemed so commonplace back when I was growing up in the 1970s and early '80s. Plans had to be made according to the day of the week. Sunday used to be a day of rest.
This was the thought that occurred to me as I was passing through town to get to the graduation party/family reunion detailed above. The business was Tim's Coney Island, which has undergone several metamorphises (new word?) since its original incarnation as Nugget Fine Foods.
Seeing no cars in its parking lot, I wondered whether Tim's was just another business casualty in that building. The answer was a definitive no: the restaurant was actually closed on Sunday; a business theme no longer practiced in general.
I then realized that I have been as brainwashed by the almighty dollar as the next person. You thought of nothing except going to church on Sunday. Business owners thought of religion as something important or precious. Nowadays, it makes news when something is closed on this day. Never mind what may be open 24 hours a day - six days per week used to be the rule in business. Now I may have seen the last vestige of that old rule yesterday.
This would not be a surprise in the politically correct climate of today. Removal of the Ten Commandments or anything citing religion have been all but kicked out of government buildings & places of general public nature. The consumer is always on the go, and has been trained to think as such. Not only is the dollar stretched, but it must be valuable all days of the week. Convenience has replaced observation, reflection & routine as the way society operates.
Note this is not a blog that will get preachy from a religious or secular standpoint. Sunday observances have taken a different meaning today, if not totally abandoned at all.
I don't have the power to declare what's right; but perhaps society has weaned away from start-of-the-week values, which seem to come to the forefront around Christmastime. No "X" about it.
August 13, 2006
Sunday snippets - August 13th
* The neighborhood mini-putt wins out... Two weeks ago, I reported on the lack of originality at a mini-putt a few minutes from the house. No challenges, no obstacles, and too much climbing of stairs to get at more boredom. So I decided to go to the one that I thought looked drab from the outside.
Drab no more. This was the most fun I've had at a mini-putt course in years. Not just that I was under par for the first time in eons, but challenges were there in force. One had a sand trap with actual sand! And the crowd I normally like to see at a course was there in full force: families & older couples; not the rowdy, undisciplined teens that frequent other courses. Yesterday's group interacted with others, and they were easy to talk to and root for. This course was built in the 1950s, versus the other which was built about ten years ago.
For the type of atmosphere I like these courses to be, I guess it pays to go to the older ones. It was an evening well-spent.
* Reactions to the terrorist incident Thursday? See the entry below for a literal description of the conditions, and you'll see why it bothers me. But I can't say it was unexpected. The country will always be on alert - it's a growing target among those people who can't tolerate what we stand for.
* Am I an old 35? Or was I an old 30? Each Labor Day (except last year), I have assisted the local church by calling bingo at their Labor Day festival. Old lady bingo, you ask? Well, yes, but you'd be surprised how many younger people attend throughout the day. It's something I've always enjoyed & something I'll be doing again this year. The interaction with the older folk, as I touched on above about the mini-putts, can be downright funny sometimes.
When I was younger, I always interacted better with people either younger or older than me; peers my age escaped notice & kept away from me. Why that happened, I have no clue -- but I consider opportunities like this as a just reward, funny as it may seem.
* Family reunion of sorts today, and yes I will be going with camera in tow. I haven't seen my one aunt in eight years, which should be interesting. In today's hustle bustle world, family can often get lost. You can change situations, jobs & location, but you can't change family, which is the center of your world.
I can't sit here & let that world slip away.
Drab no more. This was the most fun I've had at a mini-putt course in years. Not just that I was under par for the first time in eons, but challenges were there in force. One had a sand trap with actual sand! And the crowd I normally like to see at a course was there in full force: families & older couples; not the rowdy, undisciplined teens that frequent other courses. Yesterday's group interacted with others, and they were easy to talk to and root for. This course was built in the 1950s, versus the other which was built about ten years ago.
For the type of atmosphere I like these courses to be, I guess it pays to go to the older ones. It was an evening well-spent.
* Reactions to the terrorist incident Thursday? See the entry below for a literal description of the conditions, and you'll see why it bothers me. But I can't say it was unexpected. The country will always be on alert - it's a growing target among those people who can't tolerate what we stand for.
* Am I an old 35? Or was I an old 30? Each Labor Day (except last year), I have assisted the local church by calling bingo at their Labor Day festival. Old lady bingo, you ask? Well, yes, but you'd be surprised how many younger people attend throughout the day. It's something I've always enjoyed & something I'll be doing again this year. The interaction with the older folk, as I touched on above about the mini-putts, can be downright funny sometimes.
When I was younger, I always interacted better with people either younger or older than me; peers my age escaped notice & kept away from me. Why that happened, I have no clue -- but I consider opportunities like this as a just reward, funny as it may seem.
* Family reunion of sorts today, and yes I will be going with camera in tow. I haven't seen my one aunt in eight years, which should be interesting. In today's hustle bustle world, family can often get lost. You can change situations, jobs & location, but you can't change family, which is the center of your world.
I can't sit here & let that world slip away.
It was all done legally
Sorry I have not updated lately... more viruses to contain on the computer; plus work has been excruciating torture to me this past week. Allow me to elaborate.
You can take the blog entry I made about afternoon shift being tolerable and can it. Now I realize what a mistake it was for me to allow management to shift me there for a month (and now possibly longer). Thursday's events about the British terrorism turned the airport upside down.
Due to security prohibiting us from using the normal entry door to enter my department, we had to go out of our way - through security checkpoint & down through the concourse - to enter the department, which took five minutes one way. With me running the room, this would become impossible.
My department is also becoming the destination for the walking wounded. People that are not yet cleared to return to full duty are being dumped on us, with their restrictions still intact. Shifted outside on Friday, we were expecting the worst: that only one of the three people remaining in there could handle the grunt work. One can only drive the bags out, the other can only count the number of bags on a cart. This left one person to take care of the "second bank", meaning four flights totalling 800 bags. This abuse should not be accepted or tolerated by anyone.
When I had injured my back in 2002, they would not let me return to work until I was off restriction. Even if I was 90% cleared, with a weight restriction still in effect, management told me to cool it at home until the restriction was gone. Now, due to their needing warm bodies, people with an abdominal injury and alleged knee surgery are in charge, putting additional pressure & injury risk on the people already working hard.
Where's the fairness in that? I know these people need money, but at the risk of revolt & injury by those that are not injured yet? One co-worker just had surgery to rebreak her foot and insert a metal plate near the bone. Does this mean she will be called back before her anticipated October 3rd return? There's risk on both sides if you examine it more closely.
It's putting the same stress on me that caused me to miss five months last year. As a result, I had to renege on a deal that would have me work today (an off day). The rule states 24 hours' notice must be given to cancel a "trade". I gave the supervisor on-duty 36 hours' notice and it was accepted. Now I hear through a third party that it was denied. I have never trusted that third party fully, so I chose not to go in today.
I played by the book and it was all done legally. Why do things have to back-door back at me & cause more stress and strain?
Day shift could not come at a better time.
You can take the blog entry I made about afternoon shift being tolerable and can it. Now I realize what a mistake it was for me to allow management to shift me there for a month (and now possibly longer). Thursday's events about the British terrorism turned the airport upside down.
Due to security prohibiting us from using the normal entry door to enter my department, we had to go out of our way - through security checkpoint & down through the concourse - to enter the department, which took five minutes one way. With me running the room, this would become impossible.
My department is also becoming the destination for the walking wounded. People that are not yet cleared to return to full duty are being dumped on us, with their restrictions still intact. Shifted outside on Friday, we were expecting the worst: that only one of the three people remaining in there could handle the grunt work. One can only drive the bags out, the other can only count the number of bags on a cart. This left one person to take care of the "second bank", meaning four flights totalling 800 bags. This abuse should not be accepted or tolerated by anyone.
When I had injured my back in 2002, they would not let me return to work until I was off restriction. Even if I was 90% cleared, with a weight restriction still in effect, management told me to cool it at home until the restriction was gone. Now, due to their needing warm bodies, people with an abdominal injury and alleged knee surgery are in charge, putting additional pressure & injury risk on the people already working hard.
Where's the fairness in that? I know these people need money, but at the risk of revolt & injury by those that are not injured yet? One co-worker just had surgery to rebreak her foot and insert a metal plate near the bone. Does this mean she will be called back before her anticipated October 3rd return? There's risk on both sides if you examine it more closely.
It's putting the same stress on me that caused me to miss five months last year. As a result, I had to renege on a deal that would have me work today (an off day). The rule states 24 hours' notice must be given to cancel a "trade". I gave the supervisor on-duty 36 hours' notice and it was accepted. Now I hear through a third party that it was denied. I have never trusted that third party fully, so I chose not to go in today.
I played by the book and it was all done legally. Why do things have to back-door back at me & cause more stress and strain?
Day shift could not come at a better time.
August 7, 2006
Beatles songs, other uses (1)
It's been about a year since my roommate & me wrote a diddy which consisted of nothing except song titles from the Beatles. It was not set to music specifically, but we performed it with the backing of Ray Charles' "America". It definitely made for good theater, even though the ex-roommate wanted to throw fruit at us.
Being a slow news day, I figured I'd reprint it for your enjoyment. It's in two parts.
Hey Jude, it's getting better.
I'm back in the USSR, and I've got a feeling: When I'm 64 and when I get home, you won't see me. That'll be the day you can please, please me and you can drive my car down Penny Lane.
I am free as a bird; for I got a woman, and I love her. In the octopus' garden, it's her majesty, that dear Prudence, and I saw her standing there. And to know her is to love her; here, there and everywhere; even when the rain comes. What goes on in your heart?
I want to tell you: Come together under Mr. Moonlight. Girl, don't let me down: love me do, or something. You know my name; look up the number; I'll keep you satisfied.
So get back and Roll Over, Beethoven. You say you want a revolution? Boy, you gotta carry that weight of Maxwell's Silver Hammer, for you never give me your money, you goo goo ga joob, dig it?
No Lucille, Maggie Mae, Martha, Michele, Julia, Eleanor Rigby, Polythene Pam or my Bonnie; Long Tall Sally, Lovely Rita, Lady Madonna or Sexy Sadie. I wanna be your man, eight days a week. I got to get you into my life, for all you need is love for golden slumbers. So why don't we do it in the road?
Halleluja, I love her so, in a Blue Jay Way. Like a taste of honey. And I feel fine. Thank you girl, we can work it out.
Being a slow news day, I figured I'd reprint it for your enjoyment. It's in two parts.
Hey Jude, it's getting better.
I'm back in the USSR, and I've got a feeling: When I'm 64 and when I get home, you won't see me. That'll be the day you can please, please me and you can drive my car down Penny Lane.
I am free as a bird; for I got a woman, and I love her. In the octopus' garden, it's her majesty, that dear Prudence, and I saw her standing there. And to know her is to love her; here, there and everywhere; even when the rain comes. What goes on in your heart?
I want to tell you: Come together under Mr. Moonlight. Girl, don't let me down: love me do, or something. You know my name; look up the number; I'll keep you satisfied.
So get back and Roll Over, Beethoven. You say you want a revolution? Boy, you gotta carry that weight of Maxwell's Silver Hammer, for you never give me your money, you goo goo ga joob, dig it?
No Lucille, Maggie Mae, Martha, Michele, Julia, Eleanor Rigby, Polythene Pam or my Bonnie; Long Tall Sally, Lovely Rita, Lady Madonna or Sexy Sadie. I wanna be your man, eight days a week. I got to get you into my life, for all you need is love for golden slumbers. So why don't we do it in the road?
Halleluja, I love her so, in a Blue Jay Way. Like a taste of honey. And I feel fine. Thank you girl, we can work it out.
Beatles songs, other uses (2)
A continuation of the Beatles' "letter of songs" from the above entry:
Help! I'm the paperback writer in misery; the fool on the hill; a total day tripper... while baby's in black, getting through a hard day's night. She said, she said she's got a ticket to ride with a little help from my friends, across the universe full of lies. Honey, don't act dizzy, Miss Lizzie.
Well, I should've known better: she's leaving home with the Sun King instead of a nowhere man, your mother should know. So just let it be, from me to you.
And it won't be long until the taxman takes my money. Please, Mr. Postman, I'm a loser, while my guitar gently weeps rock & roll music. Yes, it is.
I just don't understand why it's only yesterday, because tomorrow never knows. I want to tell you... But I'm so tired with helter-skelter, and I don't want to spoil the party; it of course being for the benefit of Mr. Kite!
Think for yourself and act naturally. Just take the long and winding road to the end, and if you've got trouble, I'll be on my way. We're going home.
And those are the things we said today.
Just a sampling of how passive my mind really is!
Help! I'm the paperback writer in misery; the fool on the hill; a total day tripper... while baby's in black, getting through a hard day's night. She said, she said she's got a ticket to ride with a little help from my friends, across the universe full of lies. Honey, don't act dizzy, Miss Lizzie.
Well, I should've known better: she's leaving home with the Sun King instead of a nowhere man, your mother should know. So just let it be, from me to you.
And it won't be long until the taxman takes my money. Please, Mr. Postman, I'm a loser, while my guitar gently weeps rock & roll music. Yes, it is.
I just don't understand why it's only yesterday, because tomorrow never knows. I want to tell you... But I'm so tired with helter-skelter, and I don't want to spoil the party; it of course being for the benefit of Mr. Kite!
Think for yourself and act naturally. Just take the long and winding road to the end, and if you've got trouble, I'll be on my way. We're going home.
And those are the things we said today.
Just a sampling of how passive my mind really is!
August 5, 2006
Saturday snippets - August 4th
* Score one for the environmentalists. A judge has struck down an order that sewer sludge from Toronto continue to be trucked to a southeastern Michigan landfill. As much as I like Canada, they have a responsibility, like any other municipality or country, to tend to their own duties. The place that creates their own sludge should dispose of their own sludge, and not have second-party participation in it. Throngs of people in Michigan have protested regular waste coming in from Canada - this stop of sewer sludge is very encouraging.
Canada can be just as resourceful as we can in America. Why don't they show it?
* "Alleged" Tour de France winner Floyd Landis fails another substance test, and now might get that title stripped. He's already been kicked off his cycling team, and I say he deserves whatever punishment is warranted.
Committees such as the IOC & those who supervise the TDF races ought to really start examining our athletes as a whole. Over the last five years, how many investigations have there been into supposed foul play with illegal additives for the American athlete? Fair play must rule on all sides - there is no room for unfair advantage.
* Gas prices shot up twenty cents overnight for the second time in a month, and today marks the annual Woodward Dream Cruise (of classic cars) in downtown Detroit. Given the prices as they are now, will some of these cars, gas guzzlers as they may be, even be able to complete the whole route?
My favorite owned vehicle was a van from years ago. Now I'm glad I don't have it.
* Lastly, a work update: Afternoons are getting better, and I may be staying there. Something about adding three flights on day shift and spreading them twenty minutes apart - with our low staffing quota - makes me want to "revisit breakfast."
Canada can be just as resourceful as we can in America. Why don't they show it?
* "Alleged" Tour de France winner Floyd Landis fails another substance test, and now might get that title stripped. He's already been kicked off his cycling team, and I say he deserves whatever punishment is warranted.
Committees such as the IOC & those who supervise the TDF races ought to really start examining our athletes as a whole. Over the last five years, how many investigations have there been into supposed foul play with illegal additives for the American athlete? Fair play must rule on all sides - there is no room for unfair advantage.
* Gas prices shot up twenty cents overnight for the second time in a month, and today marks the annual Woodward Dream Cruise (of classic cars) in downtown Detroit. Given the prices as they are now, will some of these cars, gas guzzlers as they may be, even be able to complete the whole route?
My favorite owned vehicle was a van from years ago. Now I'm glad I don't have it.
* Lastly, a work update: Afternoons are getting better, and I may be staying there. Something about adding three flights on day shift and spreading them twenty minutes apart - with our low staffing quota - makes me want to "revisit breakfast."
August 4, 2006
I miss the winter uniforms
It seems weird: I get tired of wearing the same old drab work uniforms nine months out of the year. Then, when the weather warms up consistently and my firm allows me to wear shorts and a t-shirt, I find myself complaining again, with an accompanying blood pressure spike. "Only with Kevin," you might say. Allow me to explain.
A t-shirt at work has helped during this recent heat binge; unfortunately, the shirts we are told to wear lack pockets, which the long-sleeved uniform shirts have plenty of. Storage space on my person is very limited during the summertime, which increases my tendency to misplace important things... the most important of which is my parking pass, which I lost last night.
I had to park in the customers' parking deck today due to my running late. As it is with the free lot I go to, I get assigned a ticket which I have to keep with me & present when I exit the lot or deck. Many times I've seen the posting at the free lot: those who lose tickets could be subject to fines of $75.00 or more.
You can only wonder what was going through my mind when I reached into my wallet - which offered the only space to store a ticket - and it wasn't there. By wearing the winter uniform, the ticket just slides into the shirt pocket. As disorganized as my wallet can sometimes get, I've learned it's not a good alternative storage space in summer. I was racing back to the airport in a panic, thinking that the parking authority could now take permanent possession of my car, and I would not be allowed to take it out; while incurring $10 per day for each day it was left there.
Long story short, I was able to get the car out of there, but at the cost of nine people behind me in line, flashing their lights, gunning their engines, and thinking horrible thoughts. I had to show them my license and registration, which I thought I had lost as well. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, I was able to exit, immediately tempted to call a cab for work later today.
This means I will have to turn into a rulebreaker for my own comfort & peace of mind. Both lots tell you to keep your ticket with you. Not anymore with me; it will be left in the car in a safe place where I keep all my pens & such. As active as the job requires me to be, things can fall out of my pockets without any notice. The car can sit, inactive, for eight hours in the parking lot with the ticket safely in place.
How I only wish we had a normal employee parking arrangement like 99% of the other jobs in this country. But as I so well know, with airport jobs, "normal" goes out the window fast.
It makes me want to look at those who push bicycling as an alternative transportation & say they've probably got something there.
A t-shirt at work has helped during this recent heat binge; unfortunately, the shirts we are told to wear lack pockets, which the long-sleeved uniform shirts have plenty of. Storage space on my person is very limited during the summertime, which increases my tendency to misplace important things... the most important of which is my parking pass, which I lost last night.
I had to park in the customers' parking deck today due to my running late. As it is with the free lot I go to, I get assigned a ticket which I have to keep with me & present when I exit the lot or deck. Many times I've seen the posting at the free lot: those who lose tickets could be subject to fines of $75.00 or more.
You can only wonder what was going through my mind when I reached into my wallet - which offered the only space to store a ticket - and it wasn't there. By wearing the winter uniform, the ticket just slides into the shirt pocket. As disorganized as my wallet can sometimes get, I've learned it's not a good alternative storage space in summer. I was racing back to the airport in a panic, thinking that the parking authority could now take permanent possession of my car, and I would not be allowed to take it out; while incurring $10 per day for each day it was left there.
Long story short, I was able to get the car out of there, but at the cost of nine people behind me in line, flashing their lights, gunning their engines, and thinking horrible thoughts. I had to show them my license and registration, which I thought I had lost as well. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, I was able to exit, immediately tempted to call a cab for work later today.
This means I will have to turn into a rulebreaker for my own comfort & peace of mind. Both lots tell you to keep your ticket with you. Not anymore with me; it will be left in the car in a safe place where I keep all my pens & such. As active as the job requires me to be, things can fall out of my pockets without any notice. The car can sit, inactive, for eight hours in the parking lot with the ticket safely in place.
How I only wish we had a normal employee parking arrangement like 99% of the other jobs in this country. But as I so well know, with airport jobs, "normal" goes out the window fast.
It makes me want to look at those who push bicycling as an alternative transportation & say they've probably got something there.
August 3, 2006
Presidential vacation at this time?
Before a new round of severe thunderstorms hits the area & finally cools off this week-long heat wave, I'll provide this entry about a subject that makes me simply shake my head.
I am not normally politically motivated by any stretch. However, anyone who has watched TV knows about the Middle East and the recent 3-week stretch of fighting, which some commentators have linked to being the end of the world as we know it. Now, I don't think it stretches to that extreme, but certain sections of the world are really going through a rough stretch, and need guidance from world leaders to keep it from escalating.
And now our President has decided to retreat to his Texas ranch for a breather? The timing could not possibly be worse.
I once held a job where I was in charge. Being a full-time employee, I was granted an annual 2-week vacation which I always looked forward to. At that time, however, my department was undergoing the first of three location changeovers in the span of a year. The sitting members of the board had no technical clue about how or where to move things, and were helpless in day-to-day operations without me there.
As I had no alternate, I sacrificed the vacation time until I knew things could run normally. That meant a delay of three months, but the vacation time was still there, and I was able to enjoy the time off, even though it was later than what was hoped for.
I knew the job priorities; that's why I was being paid top dollar for it. This also should apply to the Chief Executive of the Country. When there's problems and guidance is needed from the top office, the world should not expect a leader to just retreat & do his own thing. It just doesn't sound right.
A record was set for vacation time spent at the ranch last year: almost six weeks. In six years in office, he's spent more time on retreat than Ronald Reagan did in eight years. It just makes me wonder if the president wants to even face the realities, let alone deal with them.
This is a man who needs no further blemishes on what has been a controversial presidency. The country has been criticized for not taking swift action in recent matters.
There is nothing swift about a poorly-timed decision at a time where we can ill-afford them.
I am not normally politically motivated by any stretch. However, anyone who has watched TV knows about the Middle East and the recent 3-week stretch of fighting, which some commentators have linked to being the end of the world as we know it. Now, I don't think it stretches to that extreme, but certain sections of the world are really going through a rough stretch, and need guidance from world leaders to keep it from escalating.
And now our President has decided to retreat to his Texas ranch for a breather? The timing could not possibly be worse.
I once held a job where I was in charge. Being a full-time employee, I was granted an annual 2-week vacation which I always looked forward to. At that time, however, my department was undergoing the first of three location changeovers in the span of a year. The sitting members of the board had no technical clue about how or where to move things, and were helpless in day-to-day operations without me there.
As I had no alternate, I sacrificed the vacation time until I knew things could run normally. That meant a delay of three months, but the vacation time was still there, and I was able to enjoy the time off, even though it was later than what was hoped for.
I knew the job priorities; that's why I was being paid top dollar for it. This also should apply to the Chief Executive of the Country. When there's problems and guidance is needed from the top office, the world should not expect a leader to just retreat & do his own thing. It just doesn't sound right.
A record was set for vacation time spent at the ranch last year: almost six weeks. In six years in office, he's spent more time on retreat than Ronald Reagan did in eight years. It just makes me wonder if the president wants to even face the realities, let alone deal with them.
This is a man who needs no further blemishes on what has been a controversial presidency. The country has been criticized for not taking swift action in recent matters.
There is nothing swift about a poorly-timed decision at a time where we can ill-afford them.
August 1, 2006
Only one set of rules needed
Now that I've been on afternoon shift at work for two weeks, people have asked me how well it's going. You may remember that I wasn't really crazy about going to this shift, and even implied it was forced on me. However, some benefits do show up with the later start time.
I'll never like the fact that once I'm at work on a given day, the rest of the day is "shot". But I've been able to say good-bye to those early mornings; as a result, I'm less groggy. More than physical, though, has to do with the environment on that shift.
On day shift, we would all make jokes about how incompetent the afternoon shift was. We'd try to sneak out the door before we were forced to do overtime & work with that crew; claiming they don't know the right way to do the job. My initial response to this move was just that. Now the tide has seemed to turn, and the day shift seems to be the lazier one.
Work productivity is not my concern, though -- the fact that the rules seem totally different for both shifts is the issue.
Observe both shifts in action throughout the day, and you'd swear that two different companies man the facilities during the day. Unwritten, yet spoken, rules classify the afternoon shift, which is more into paperwork, proper communication, and specific separation of luggage. Day shift, meanwhile, puts everything into a hodge-podge in the spur of the moment, invents rules, disdains the ones told to them, and are set in their ways otherwise.
This is not to bad-mouth those I once worked with. I still think the people on day shift are easier to get along with, especially with some hyper sorts manning important posts on the afternoons. But it took my moving to the afternoons to find out that at one time, I was freely subscribing to the "easy way out", without even knowing it. And it always takes a move like the one I made in order to see that clearly.
But what can be done to unify the shifts under one set of work procedures? The job itself is the same on both shifts; the routine is the same, the flow is the same. Truth is, people are nervous to speak out about it for fear of their jobs. If nothing is told, management will think everything is fine the way it is. With some of the differences being appallingly obvious, things could definitely run a lot smoother.
So where does that put me on shift preference? Unsure right now, but it definitely won't be the easiest choice to make, regardless.
I'll never like the fact that once I'm at work on a given day, the rest of the day is "shot". But I've been able to say good-bye to those early mornings; as a result, I'm less groggy. More than physical, though, has to do with the environment on that shift.
On day shift, we would all make jokes about how incompetent the afternoon shift was. We'd try to sneak out the door before we were forced to do overtime & work with that crew; claiming they don't know the right way to do the job. My initial response to this move was just that. Now the tide has seemed to turn, and the day shift seems to be the lazier one.
Work productivity is not my concern, though -- the fact that the rules seem totally different for both shifts is the issue.
Observe both shifts in action throughout the day, and you'd swear that two different companies man the facilities during the day. Unwritten, yet spoken, rules classify the afternoon shift, which is more into paperwork, proper communication, and specific separation of luggage. Day shift, meanwhile, puts everything into a hodge-podge in the spur of the moment, invents rules, disdains the ones told to them, and are set in their ways otherwise.
This is not to bad-mouth those I once worked with. I still think the people on day shift are easier to get along with, especially with some hyper sorts manning important posts on the afternoons. But it took my moving to the afternoons to find out that at one time, I was freely subscribing to the "easy way out", without even knowing it. And it always takes a move like the one I made in order to see that clearly.
But what can be done to unify the shifts under one set of work procedures? The job itself is the same on both shifts; the routine is the same, the flow is the same. Truth is, people are nervous to speak out about it for fear of their jobs. If nothing is told, management will think everything is fine the way it is. With some of the differences being appallingly obvious, things could definitely run a lot smoother.
So where does that put me on shift preference? Unsure right now, but it definitely won't be the easiest choice to make, regardless.
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