Seasons of Love*

Most Americans, even if they're not regular musical theater attendees, know the opening chorus from that Puccini-based knockoff, "RENT":

"Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?"

I quote this not because I'm a fan of the show, but because there are times that 1) I do not feel as though my work is valued and 2) There's so much busywork and minutiae in creating records that it's easy to feel overwhelmed. That year that's spoken of in terms of minutes can be interminable.

I'm in the process of archiving spoken word recordings for the library, and finding the poetry and prose anthologies to be the most time-consuming. Besides performer information, there's author information for every author represented on the recording, AND often musical information to consider. Slow going to be sure, but the harder I work at it the faster closing time comes.  Onward...

*--from RENT (1993), book, lyrics, and music by Jonathan Larson.

Handyman*

I'm now at the start of my second year at Lincoln University. I always like the beginning of the semester--students have a heightened level of intensity at this point in the year. New classes, new expectations, students don't change much. 

I'm working from the third floor reference desk, where I was last night due to a power snafu on the main floor that didn't allow that reference desk terminal to be used.  A help ticket was turned in to the maintenance office--it's not an IT issue so who knows when it will be fixed? The glacial pace at which tasks get accomplished at this university is truly astonishing. We're still waiting on the vendor responsible for the sliding glass doors between the second floor computer lab and the reference area to be fixed. Until that happens, we cannot offer 24/7 access to the computer lab. There is no sense of urgency--only resignation and frustration that we're in this for the long haul.

I once wrote on this page about a former employer of mine, Bill Jaeger, who often complained of people's stunning lack of information and/or curiosity about the two things in life they spend the most money on--their homes and their cars.  It often feels like that in higher ed, too.

*Otis Blackwell, Jimmy "Handy Man" Jones, c. 1959.

La Bonne Cuisine*, part 3

So this month's Cookbook Club at the PCI branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia features "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" by Julia Childs and Simone Beck (and that other woman). I've tried some of the recipes and don't find them particularly difficult if you follow the directions--including reading the directions, especially the part where JC tells the reader to go through the motions of preparing said dish--something I've been doing for several years, without knowing it was a good way to learn.  So far I've prepared Haricots Vertes a la Provencale and Boeuf aux Oignons.  Both have been wonderful, but it got me thinking about the 2009 movie "Julie and Julia", starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep in the titular roles. The premise of the story was that Julie set a goal for herself to prepare every recipe (her count was 524) in volume one of Julia's book in the course of 365 days. I've been reading and cooking from (with great pleasure, mind you) that book for the last week, and to say the least, her claim that she completed such a herculean task in the course of one year raises suspicion. Here's why:

1) The movie intimated that, while she had friends over on a regular basis, she cooked most often for her husband and herself.  Following the recipe to the letter would yield enormous amounts of food--according to the cookbook, for 4-6 people.  Did she cut the recipes down accordingly?

2) Given the amount of food, not to mention the exotic ingredients many recipes required, it would require a budget far exceeding their limited means.  Was Julie secretly wealthy?

I also availed myself of reading viewer reviews at IMDB.com and discovered that I am FAR from the only voice expressing skepticism.

All that being said, I'm looking forward to November 6 and the next session of Cookbook Club.

Bon Appetit!!!

--*Leonard Bernstein, composer, 1947. Full title: "La Bonne Cuisine: Four Recipes for Voice and Piano".

I Me Mine*

All through the day, I me mine
I me mine, I me mine
All through the night, I me mine
I me mine, I me mine
Now they're frightened of leaving it
Everyone's weaving it
Coming on strong all the time
All through the day I me mine

I-I-me-me-mine, I-I-me-me-mine
I-I-me-me-mine, I-I-me-me-mine

All I can hear, I me mine
I me mine, I me mine
Even those tears, I me mine
I me mine, I me mine
No-one's frightened of playing it
Everyone's saying it
Flowing more freely than wine
All through the day I me mine

I-I-me-me mine, I-I-me-me mine
I-I-me-me mine, I-I-me-me mine

All I can hear, I me mine
I me mine, I me mine
Even those tears, I me mine
I me mine, I me mine
No-one's frightened of playing it
Everyone's saying it
Flowing more freely than wine
All through your life I me mine

Regular readers of this blog know that I generally title my posts after popular songs.  For the first time, I felt compelled to post George Harrison's brilliant lyrics as well.  The reasons why will become apparent.

From Wikipedia:

...the Bhagavad Gita 2:71-72 can be translated as "They are forever free who renounce all selfish desires and break away from the ego-cage of 'I', 'me' and 'mine' to be united with the Lord. This is the supreme state. Attain to this, and pass from death to immortality." 

I was reading the account of another D-list celebrity who felt it necessary to broadcast their gender confusion to the world, accompanied by quotes of support from other star-bellied sneetches who didn't want to be thought of as not supporting their confusion.

In the old days (and I guess it still happens to some extent), if a Hollywood type wanted attention, they'd talk about their "brave" stint with drug rehab, spouting pretty much the same language as anyone else who had been thru it.

I think a lot of the world's misery is brought on ourselves and by extension, others around us, because we are by nature narcissistic, thinking only of ourselves and how we feel at the moment. I'm no different.

We need to think of prayer not as a last line of defense but as a method of first resort. It's a habit that far too few of us indulge in, and would solve a lot of problems if we did.

You don't like what I have to say, go on to the next blogger (n., person who thinks what they have to say is worthy of inscription in marble).

You too.

*--George Harrison for The Beatles, Let It Be, 1970.

PS: I'm not sure what to think about getting a contact from "Unknown Region". Where could that be? Area 51? The United States Space Force? Sesame Street? Some have suggested it's Russian hackers, but the thought merely amuses me. Onward.

Changes, opus III*

I'm not entirely certain why I haven't written since April.  We've had three deaths in the family since March (My mother, father-in-law, and my wife's godfather) and so we've been taking care of family business, so I guess that's part of it too.

The girls are headed to college (and back to college) in a matter of days.  We're very excited, although it'll be MUCH quieter with only our son home (still looking for a job).  Is there a parallel of the "honey-do" list for adult kids who are recently graduated but don't have a job yet? (GRRRRR) If not there will be...heh, heh, heh...

Work at LU is about to gear up. Students are back on campus for marching band, a few moving into the dorms, with classes starting on the 22nd.  BUT--the big news is that after four years without a director, we're getting one--Carla Sarratt from Wilmington NC. She was in the public library world in her most recent position.  We'll see how it goes.  We hear that she's big on programming and public engagement, so buckle your seat belts.

*--David Bowie, Hunky Dory, 1971.

Cool*

The longest business relationship that I've had in my life, even longer than my marriage (25 years this year), is with my insurance agent at State Farm (no, his name isn't Jake). He's seen me through good and bad times, high points and low; he's always been there. We even have a "Facebook friendship" that started after he retired. We've never socialized, sat down for a beer or dinner, (and I would if I had the opportunity), but was always dependable and gave top-notch service.   I trusted him, and he never gave me a reason to reconsider that trust.

I know that not every insurance agent or company, nor every business of any kind, is like that.  It can be disappointing, even devastating, to realize that the relationship was not what it seemed.  I'm not naive enough to think that people (and business models) don't or will never change, it's just that when it comes down to really needing the significant other, be it business or personal, to be there for you, to be in your corner, it turns out that the positivity, well wishes, and words are just a facade to get you to go along.

I'm not going to mention the department in or the name of the institution involved (it isn't State Farm) but I have to say that I am indeed VERY disappointed in their lack of transparency, their lack of cooperation, and their seeming lack of effort in matters concerning members of my family. 

We are not blameless. Perhaps we didn't accomplish necessary tasks with the expediency expected of us. However, we have been more than patient with this department--perhaps too patient.  I'd love to be able to say the institution's name, but you know how negativity in social media goes these days.

To Be Continued...

*--from West Side Story, music by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, book by Bernstein, Sondheim, and Arthur Laurents, 1957.

Off the beaten path*

I've been thinking about patron service a lot lately.

We're on spring break this week, here at Lincoln, and between preparing a Music and Dance Libguide and working the LP collection, the lack of decent inexpensive restaurants nearby has me going (too) often to the McDonald's in the next town.  Two recent experiences make me wonder about the level of people providing customer service these days.

1) I was at one Mickey D's last Sunday evening. They had a (presumably) new self-service kiosk, the first one I've seen outside of Wawa and Sonic.  The line at the counter had more than a few customers so I tried it out. Everything was explained on the screen, and I ordered a McChicken and a coke, grabbed a table ID tag, and went to a table and waited for them to bring my food.  I watched a party of five order at the counter, grab their drinks, sit down and get served while my one sandwich (and no drink) sat at the counter...and sat...and sat.  If I hadn't flagged down the counter person while she was delivering to the party of five, I might still be sitting there.  I showed her my receipt (and, I will confess, my annoyance) and she retrieved my sandwich.
"where's my drink?"
"oh, you get your cup at the counter"
"but I didn't go to the counter, I ordered at the kiosk"
"oh--what did you have?"
Sigh.

I finally received both items, but my conclusion is that the counter help was either 1) new and undertrained or 2) severely undertrained. In any event, they were understaffed and undertrained.  I promptly took the survey offered on the receipt. I have yet to hear back from them.

2) Another Mickey D, closer to work, this morning. I got in line behind half a dozen people with--you guessed it--one person at the counter.  After she took the order for a group of five, she left the counter unattended for (in McDonalds time) what seemed like forever.  Her back was to the waiting customers nearly the entire time. Didn't say anything this time. Got my food, sat and ate, went to work. Neglectful? Maybe. Understaffed? Definitely, and this was at 8 am--peak hours for breakfast in my estimation.

A third experience at our local chain grocer (Giant, not to be confused with Giant Eagle) was not the first time I've had trouble with them. Between inaccurate signage, poor quality food (frozen chicken wings with razor-sharp shards of bone), and just plain rude behavior have me going to a competitor.  Yes, I filled out their survey too, and have yet to hear back from them.  Maybe I've used up my lifetime supply of good will.

Yet another:  Stopped at the Red Roof Inn in Cranberry PA for a room for the night with my wife and adult daughter.
Me: I need a room for three adults.
Them: Will that be one bed or two?
+
EWWWWW...

Look--I get that service jobs, especially in the fast food and retail industry, are thankless and low-paying, and that you're subjected to the worst, cruelest, and condescending in human behavior. I've been there, I know.  They're entry level, and ideally should lead to bigger and better things within a given company.  Even if they don't, trainers and training managers--all managers, really--need to take training their people seriously.  Don't wait for your corporate office to mandate how to be nice, how to be considerate, how to take customers issues seriously (or with a grain of salt in many cases).  Too many generations of parents expected that of the public schools and look at how that turned out.  Former Secretary of Education William Bennett was right--K-12 education (and by extension, corporate training programs) aren't a one-stop solution where all of society's problems can be fixed.

Here's some simple rules to follow:

1) don't assume.
2) answer questions as though it's the first time you've been asked that day (thank you Disney).
3) treat people the way you would want to be treated.
4) don't make excuses. just do your job. rattling off a litany of excuses just rubs salt in the wound created by having a negative outcome in your transaction.

Now get off my lawn!
Onward.

*--Justin Moore, Off the Beaten Path,  2013.