Some years ago, I had an epiphany of sorts on walking out of a bar called Dick's Last Resort in San Antonio. I'd been treated like shit by the staff, was served dinner (pork chops) out of a galvanized bucket, and drinks from a quart bottle, yet I was ecstatically happy; I wanted to go back, because I had just had one of the best times of my life. Yes, it might have had something to do with what was in the quart bottles, but there was something more to it than that. The staff had clearly been coached to be rude, surly, and short- but in an odd, Zen koan, sort of way. They were not hateful, they were fun- it was just clear that they were not going to put up with any superfluous shit from their customers.
More recently, I've become fascinated by E.L. Kersten's Despair, Inc., and all the accoutrements thereof. For those of you that may not know, Despair (www.despair.com) is in the business of printing posters that look very much like the ones plastered with motivational bon mots that hang in the breakrooms of most every company in America, with one little difference: his are DEmotivational. They are crushing, devastating, and depressing- as well as hilarious and oddly refreshing. My favorite shows a picture of a sinking ship with this caption: Mistakes- it could be that the purpose of your life is merely to serve as a warning to others.
Mr. Kersten recently proved to the world that he means what he says by publishing a The Art of Demotivation, which is a darkly funny sendup of the culture of "empowerment" of which many of us in the retail world have grown sick and tired. It's not merely humor, however- there is truth beneath it, and it make us laugh because it makes us uncomfortable. People in their twenties and thirties are either totally repulsed by it or magnetically attracted to it. Old guys like my Dad (about to be 70) see it as a vindication of all the old-school, dictatorial management directives that he has wistfully watched fade away over the years. Americans in general struggle to reconcile his message with the "customer is always right" culture that we've grown accustomed to, because his is a message to employees and customers alike: you get what you deserve and nothing more, so fuck off. Just like at Dick's Last Resort.
Well, this morning, it finally occurred to me that Dick's Last Resort and Despair, Inc., might be onto something larger: they are exposing a growing chink in the armor of the customer-is-always-right philosophy that has become an accepted truth in American consumer culture. The dirty little secret, of course, is that the customer is NOT always right, and there is an enormous pent up desire for the growing ranks of service workers in this country to SAY so, but because these same workers are also consumers, it rarely happens. The golden rule seems to have found a new and valuable incarnation here. But the fact remains: why do these organizations feel like oxygen in otherwise very stale room?
Well, most obviously, they are exposing the Emperor as naked. Consumer culture can induce vertigo after a while, because it denies many basic truths that we all know to be true: like, for example, that the customer that pitched a fit in front of you in line today was not right, he was a psychotic asshole that needed a shrink or a punch in the mouth, not coddling. Seeing people like this get their asses kissed- or worse yet, having to kiss their asses yourself to keep the customer's business or to keep from getting fired- is a surreal and disturbing experience. Clearly part of the appeal of Dick's Last Resort and Despair, Inc. is the feeling of tension released at seeing this myth shattered.
But perhaps the answer also lies in expectations. The fact is that Americans have been on an upward-spiraling climb in expectations for decades now. We not only want, but have come to EXPECT, higher quality and better service tomorrow that what we had yesterday. What's worse, when we get it, we take it entirely for granted. For example, the statistical strides in automotive quality over the last twenty years have been nothing short of remarkable, in every conceivable sense- but do people sit around talking about how great their cars are, how little trouble they give them? Why no, they find something else to bitch about, of course. The same thing applies to the workforce, which why Mr. Kersten's thoughts resonate so well: employees have never had it so good: better pay, better hours, better benefits, less alienation (in Marxist terms), and yet are employees any happier, more loyal, or harder working than they were thirty years ago? No, Kersten says: you have simply emboldened them to indulge the worst, selfish elements of themselves. As an employer, he suggests, you have done them and yourself a disservice, because you have launched them up that escalator of continually higher expectations with no hope of anything but eventual disappointment. So, he would say, beat the rush and disappoint them NOW.
Perhaps the key to happiness, then, for all parties concerned, is to just lower our expectations. Dick and his friend E.L. are simply reminding us of this. The fact is that it's infinitely easier to attain the state of mind that we all putatively desire- happiness- when you think this way than when you get on that escalator of expectations and keep thinking that you'll find it on the next floor.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Life on Concourse D
Reader beware: my hope is that this will be a book someday. At the snail's pace that I write, someone else will almost certainly have written it by then, but perhaps my version will be better. Frankly, I am really just interested in promulgating ideas, which is why I write this blog, and I think I do a pretty good job of picking up the Zeitgeist before the radar of the world at large does, so I hope someone WILL write a book before I get around to it. This topic- for the inhabitants of middle-market America- will certainly hit a nerve.
The title comes from the Atlanta Airport, and refers to the Concourse to which all the flights to all the smaller cities are relegated. Here you can relax- in ungainly squalor- with all the other hapless bastards from Peoria, Lubbock, Harrisburg, Chattanooga, and Syracuse. Unlike the concourses just up the alphabet, Concourse D does not contain a bookstore, a decent restaurant, or amenities citizens of the First World (who generally use the first three concourses) would consider desirable or respectable. It is assumed that US magazine and USA Today are perfectly sufficient to entertain the inhabitants of concourse D. Needless to say, it is always miserable bastard hour at the one shitty little bar on concourse D. It is a perfect microcosm of life in the cities to which the airplanes serving concourse D flies: you are on the outside, a second-class citizen.
The denizens of Concourse D are sitting in the oldest chairs in the airport and standing on the dirtiest carpet. They are flying on the oldest airplanes, with the youngest pilots. Did they pay less for their tickets? No, in fact, they probably paid more. When they get home they will not be going to any professional sporting contests, unless perhaps it's a minor league baseball or hockey game. They spend most of their lives with their noses pressed against the glass of larger markets and all the entertainment they contain. Our children root for teams that they may never actually see play in person. We endure the haughty attitudes of visitors from other concourses with grudging deference. What sin have these poor souls committed to suffer this fate? They have effectively ceased to exist in the eyes of America's business and marketing world: they do not live in a Major Market.
For those of you that DO live in a major market, this may come as a complete surprise. You are like the good-looking, popular kid in high school that never did anything to make us hate you, yet still, we do hate you: the kind of grudging hatred born of resentment. We hate you because we envy you. You did nothing to deserve your privledge, and we hate you for it. Sort of like the way the Islamic world hates the Western world.
We envy you because you have restaurants we don't have. Stores we don't have. Movies we don't have. Concerts we don't have. Car dealerships we don't have. We have never filled out a Nielsen survey. We never get calls for the Zogby poll. Our newspaper (if we have one anymore) is terrible. In short, we just don't matter in America today. In many ways, we can understand very well why America is resented so much around the world; hell, WE resent it most of the time, because the world understands "'America" by our media, and we are generally no more connected to it than a Candian or a Mexican with a television is.
The warped logic of American business has deemed that since most of the country's population is in the larger cities served by the first three concourses, they can much more cost-effectively understand America by simply focusing on you- and trusting the messages will filter out to us like crumbs from your table. And for the most part, sadly, it works. The problem is that they have effectively segregated America into two worlds: one inside the pale, and one outside it.
When this happens, those inside the pale- most of which happen to be in "blue"states for reasons I won't explore here- are amazed when things like our 2000 presidential election happen. Why? Because we are the barbarians beyond the gate; we are so far off their radar screen that they quite literally have forgotten that we exist. The reader may recall that old New Yorker poster showing a great deal of detail in and around Manhattan and the rest of the country stretching into oblivion just beyond. This is no longer a cartoon, but a cruel reality for those of us in the "second world."
On the other hand, we do manage to elect most of our Presidents.
The title comes from the Atlanta Airport, and refers to the Concourse to which all the flights to all the smaller cities are relegated. Here you can relax- in ungainly squalor- with all the other hapless bastards from Peoria, Lubbock, Harrisburg, Chattanooga, and Syracuse. Unlike the concourses just up the alphabet, Concourse D does not contain a bookstore, a decent restaurant, or amenities citizens of the First World (who generally use the first three concourses) would consider desirable or respectable. It is assumed that US magazine and USA Today are perfectly sufficient to entertain the inhabitants of concourse D. Needless to say, it is always miserable bastard hour at the one shitty little bar on concourse D. It is a perfect microcosm of life in the cities to which the airplanes serving concourse D flies: you are on the outside, a second-class citizen.
The denizens of Concourse D are sitting in the oldest chairs in the airport and standing on the dirtiest carpet. They are flying on the oldest airplanes, with the youngest pilots. Did they pay less for their tickets? No, in fact, they probably paid more. When they get home they will not be going to any professional sporting contests, unless perhaps it's a minor league baseball or hockey game. They spend most of their lives with their noses pressed against the glass of larger markets and all the entertainment they contain. Our children root for teams that they may never actually see play in person. We endure the haughty attitudes of visitors from other concourses with grudging deference. What sin have these poor souls committed to suffer this fate? They have effectively ceased to exist in the eyes of America's business and marketing world: they do not live in a Major Market.
For those of you that DO live in a major market, this may come as a complete surprise. You are like the good-looking, popular kid in high school that never did anything to make us hate you, yet still, we do hate you: the kind of grudging hatred born of resentment. We hate you because we envy you. You did nothing to deserve your privledge, and we hate you for it. Sort of like the way the Islamic world hates the Western world.
We envy you because you have restaurants we don't have. Stores we don't have. Movies we don't have. Concerts we don't have. Car dealerships we don't have. We have never filled out a Nielsen survey. We never get calls for the Zogby poll. Our newspaper (if we have one anymore) is terrible. In short, we just don't matter in America today. In many ways, we can understand very well why America is resented so much around the world; hell, WE resent it most of the time, because the world understands "'America" by our media, and we are generally no more connected to it than a Candian or a Mexican with a television is.
The warped logic of American business has deemed that since most of the country's population is in the larger cities served by the first three concourses, they can much more cost-effectively understand America by simply focusing on you- and trusting the messages will filter out to us like crumbs from your table. And for the most part, sadly, it works. The problem is that they have effectively segregated America into two worlds: one inside the pale, and one outside it.
When this happens, those inside the pale- most of which happen to be in "blue"states for reasons I won't explore here- are amazed when things like our 2000 presidential election happen. Why? Because we are the barbarians beyond the gate; we are so far off their radar screen that they quite literally have forgotten that we exist. The reader may recall that old New Yorker poster showing a great deal of detail in and around Manhattan and the rest of the country stretching into oblivion just beyond. This is no longer a cartoon, but a cruel reality for those of us in the "second world."
On the other hand, we do manage to elect most of our Presidents.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Nintendo v. the world
Alright, this is a weird one, but I spend a lot of time around Nintendo products as both my kids are fanatical video gamers, and seriously partial to Nintendo stuff at that. I was just reading an article about the new Sony PS3 preparing to do bloody battle with Microsoft's new entry (name escapes me), and poor old Nintendo is just dismissed as the feeble also-ran. This bothers me.
From a technological standpoint, this may be the case- let's assume it is. What Nintendo has, however, which neither Sony nor Microsoft can say, is something far more valuable: the hearts and imaginations of the industrial world's children, via its compelling and interesting characters. In this respect, Nintendo is a perfect candidate for a takeover by a company like Disney. Nintendo's character's (Mario and Luigi being to most recognizable to the childless) are noticably absent from the "stages" of the world's amusement parks, while Disney flogs on with the mouse and duck and other characters in which American kids (if not the world's) have long since lost interest. I was constantly reminded of this on a recent visit to Universal Studios; while I was blown away by the quality of the park and the experience, I could not help but notice the conspicuous absence of my childrens' favorite characters: the Nintendo crew. Clearly, this is a classic "walk down Wall St." opportunity. Someone should wake up and smell this coffee.
Meanwhile, I'll be adding to my position in Nintendo.
From a technological standpoint, this may be the case- let's assume it is. What Nintendo has, however, which neither Sony nor Microsoft can say, is something far more valuable: the hearts and imaginations of the industrial world's children, via its compelling and interesting characters. In this respect, Nintendo is a perfect candidate for a takeover by a company like Disney. Nintendo's character's (Mario and Luigi being to most recognizable to the childless) are noticably absent from the "stages" of the world's amusement parks, while Disney flogs on with the mouse and duck and other characters in which American kids (if not the world's) have long since lost interest. I was constantly reminded of this on a recent visit to Universal Studios; while I was blown away by the quality of the park and the experience, I could not help but notice the conspicuous absence of my childrens' favorite characters: the Nintendo crew. Clearly, this is a classic "walk down Wall St." opportunity. Someone should wake up and smell this coffee.
Meanwhile, I'll be adding to my position in Nintendo.
Neither Fish nor Fowl
Like a lot of my contemporaries, I am difficult to pidgeonhole. I first noticed this a couple of elections ago in an argument with a buddy who was voting for "the other guy." After we got past the bullshit and the rhetoric, it turns out we looked at things very much the same way. It's just that he thought the other fella would do a better job at it than mine. I know this sounds too simple, but I really believe the US body politic is locked in a false dichotomy of the worst Orwellian kind: it's red or blue, Republican or Democrat, black or white, and never the 'twain shall meet. Well, that's pretty obviously bullshit, but on we march, as if that's the way the world works. It doesn't.
We need a viable third party. We have to have one in order to keep this democracy working like it should. Two parties lead invariably to stagnation, where three introduces a dynamism, a cycling of ideas, that helps keep things honest. I've been saying this for years- about 20 years, actually, to anybody that will listen, but I think the two big parties have become such powerful "brands" that there's no sunlight filtering through to allow another party to grow. I used to be more of a conspiracy theorist (particularly as regards the media), but I don't think that's it anymore. It is just the result of all these parties acting in their own best interests, which is all you can ever expect from anyone anyway.
My idea for fixing all this- borne of that political argument with a friend with whom I had more in common that I ever suspected- is www.votematch.com. I own the domain but have never managed to get the energy or momentum to get it rolling. The concept is simple, the best analogy being that of a dating service. In a representative, constitutional democracy, you are basically looking to vote for someone who thinks as much like you as possible (your "best" you, that is) and thus votes as you would vote. The votematch concept would have a candidate fill out a fairly exhaustive survey- not neccessarily on the issues themselves, but perhaps on broader philosophical concepts (like "on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you agree with the following statement: history is unfair"), and submit it to the website. Then YOU, the voter, fill out the exact same survey, and the website returns an "affinity score."
It's foolishly simple, and it's been done since we came up with the idea, but it does not seem to have caught on in a monolithic way. It needs to, in order to engender real change, in the same way that people will almost reflexively "google" an interesting new person they've met. If people got in the ironclad habit of "votematching" they would quickly see that their own ideas and opinions rarely fit in the dogmatic buckets of the major parties. Perhaps, then, a real, healthy, viable third party can finally emerge the old fashioned way: from the ground up.
We need a viable third party. We have to have one in order to keep this democracy working like it should. Two parties lead invariably to stagnation, where three introduces a dynamism, a cycling of ideas, that helps keep things honest. I've been saying this for years- about 20 years, actually, to anybody that will listen, but I think the two big parties have become such powerful "brands" that there's no sunlight filtering through to allow another party to grow. I used to be more of a conspiracy theorist (particularly as regards the media), but I don't think that's it anymore. It is just the result of all these parties acting in their own best interests, which is all you can ever expect from anyone anyway.
My idea for fixing all this- borne of that political argument with a friend with whom I had more in common that I ever suspected- is www.votematch.com. I own the domain but have never managed to get the energy or momentum to get it rolling. The concept is simple, the best analogy being that of a dating service. In a representative, constitutional democracy, you are basically looking to vote for someone who thinks as much like you as possible (your "best" you, that is) and thus votes as you would vote. The votematch concept would have a candidate fill out a fairly exhaustive survey- not neccessarily on the issues themselves, but perhaps on broader philosophical concepts (like "on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you agree with the following statement: history is unfair"), and submit it to the website. Then YOU, the voter, fill out the exact same survey, and the website returns an "affinity score."
It's foolishly simple, and it's been done since we came up with the idea, but it does not seem to have caught on in a monolithic way. It needs to, in order to engender real change, in the same way that people will almost reflexively "google" an interesting new person they've met. If people got in the ironclad habit of "votematching" they would quickly see that their own ideas and opinions rarely fit in the dogmatic buckets of the major parties. Perhaps, then, a real, healthy, viable third party can finally emerge the old fashioned way: from the ground up.
The moniker, by way of explanation
I got this name as a college freshman at Columbia because of my penchant for rambling monologues and for my inability to conceal my accent- especially after a couple of beers- which my mainly-Califorinian buddies mistakenly pegged as Texan. In fact, the populations of east Tennessee and east Texas have remarkably similar accents (an incredibly well-preserved linguistic relic of Tennessee's contribution to the independence of Texas, also the reason TN is called the Volunteer State, of course), but it's a mistake nonetheless. I was born in Tennessee, live in Tennessee now, and will probably die in Tennessee. Despite this, I am known to many of my old compadres as "Tex." The Professor bit should be obvious by now. There is very little about which I don't have an opinion, which is why (I've been told) the advent of the blog is a magical development for me.
I prefer the anonymity of this name- though my close friends and family know it well- as my opinions are not always popular or "nice" and my role as a business owner prevents me from being too controversial lest I piss off a significant segment of my customer base. I don't like the sort of bravado it connotes- it's more than a little riduculous- but it's the only nickname I ever had, so there. Now you know.
I prefer the anonymity of this name- though my close friends and family know it well- as my opinions are not always popular or "nice" and my role as a business owner prevents me from being too controversial lest I piss off a significant segment of my customer base. I don't like the sort of bravado it connotes- it's more than a little riduculous- but it's the only nickname I ever had, so there. Now you know.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)