Tag: life

The Afterglow of the Holidays

Now that we’re well into the new year, having celebrated Christmas and New Year’s, watching “Muppet Christmas Carol”, “Holiday Inn”, and the Tournament of Roses Parade (which was a bit soggy this year – marching bands in rain slickers just isn’t the same), it’s time to regroup, take a deep breath, and return to our normal living patterns.

Yes, we all know the holidays are stressful.  For those of us that are, shall we say, a bit older and therefore may not be as severely caught up in the anxiety, or so we tell ourselves, there is still just a bit.  Where did we put all the sales slips in case something needs to be returned?  They were right in the drawer over . . . . . . I know I saved them. How much wrapping paper is left?  Should we restock, or wait until next year?  What color bows should I buy – I don’t know what colors will be stylish in 2026.  Oh, God. Did we get everything put back in the right place?  Should we get rid of some of the decorations that now fill closets and most of the basement?  No, because they’re all treasures. Inherited, or someone special gave them to us.  Made in Kindergarten by someone now in their forties. All those car commercials – should I replace ours?

As a child, I can remember the tremendous letdown the day after Christmas.  I know, we had all that new stuff to play with or wear.  That was exciting, but opening all the presents was spectacular, and now it’s over until next year.  Can we wait that long without our heads exploding?  There would be a birthday in there somewhere, but that wasn’t quite the same.  My birthday is in early December, and while it was never overlooked – my parents were good about that, it did get lost a little in the energetic runup “whoosh” to Christmas.  Nobody ever went caroling with “It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Tom’s Birthday”.  Let’s face it – for kids, there’s a definite letdown after Christmas. Memories of that feeling on Christmas night lurk in my brain. The presents are opened and used, the surprises are gone, and an emptiness exists that New Year’s Eve can’t hope to fill.  (Plus, we were going back to school the day after, so New Year’s Day is a lot like the last Sunday night of summer.)

As adults and young parents, that letdown is mixed with a certain sense that life can return to some form of normal when the Christmas tree goes to the curb and the decorations back into boxes.  A brief, modest sense of relief.  Whew, we made it again this year. It’s mixed with some anxiety.  Did I get enough stuff for everyone?  Did I spend enough, even though the credit cards won’t be back to zero until June. Some of the “Did I do enough?” recedes into darker regions of our consciousness.  It’s too late, so we have to try to let it go.  Parents too have anxiety about balancing the numbers of presents for each child.  Were they equal, or did we show favoritism?  My parents agonized about it every year – particularly my father, who didn’t do any shopping except for my mother.  My secretary, one hilarious year, had bought one daughter a set of tires for her car.  Did that count as one gift or four?  We have an only child, so balancing wasn’t an issue so much as a deficiency issue as it was (and still is) “holy crap – look at all the stuff she’s getting.”  The Head Shopper does it all online now, so we don’t see the piles collectively until the wrapping starts.  At that point, it’s hard to pull out packages because we’ve gone overboard.  It’s difficult giving as a reason to retailers for returning items, “We’re so sorry – we just had too much this year.  Do you mind taking these things back?”  That and the fact that many of Herself’s purchases end up coming from obscure Asian countries, which seldom have friendly return policies. Children usually focus single-mindedly on the holidays themselves, not understanding that adults have holiday preparation on top of everyday living.  Like meals, jobs, and laundry.

We’re now into the retirement phase of life, when Christmas becomes a pleasant diversion.  We can go to the stores during the day or shop online at reasonable times.  No shopping at 10 PM, when the kids are asleep. Prime shopping for Her Ladyship is just before lunch, unless she’s into “Price Is Right”.  Then, it can be moved up.  We decorate at our leisure.  In fact, each year we tend to scale back the house decorations to special items, special gifts,   It’s all about choices and living in the moment. There are boxes of tree ornaments in the basement that we haven’t used in years because, well, honestly, we have enough to decorate the woods behind the house. I didn’t put up the outside lights either because we had major snow that came early in December and caught me by surprise.  (Secretly, I thank the Weather Gods.) There’s a small window of opportunity for setting up outside lights – too early and they step on Thanksgiving’s toes – too late and the heck with it. Also, I don’t like running electrical cables across piles of snow.  In truth, I don’t fully trust outside electricity.   Another disappointment for the Princess, who, even in her forties, asks if I’m going to put up lights outside.  

The house now returns to its fairly peaceful self.  I get my couch back, for example.  We return, as the broadcast networks say, to our “normal programming”.  We tend to watch our television shows on their duly appointed nights.  The occasional DVR, but mostly what’s on at that moment.  The Daughter watches virtually nothing in real time except for award shows.  The Emmys, the Oscars, the Golden Globes, and the Patriots – that’s pretty much it for her, and everything else is in electronic storage.

Last week, we took down the tree and packed up the decorations. Most fit in the containers from whence they came.  Some didn’t.  Did they reproduce while exposed to air and sunlight? Some folks like to keep their things up well into the new year, the more persistent ones until Valentine’s Day. I still see some lights in the neighborhood and we’re almost halfway through January.  For us, the sooner they’re safely away, the sooner the transition to normality is complete.  Here again, is New Year’s Day too soon, and is the following weekend too late?  Then, if New Year’s Day is on a weekend, we’re totally flummoxed.  What happens to uneaten Christmas cookies?  (Yes, you’re right – that never happens.).  Oh, God.  I ate all the Christmas cookies, and the fruitcake, and the plum pudding. Just kidding – I hate fruitcake, and Her Ladyship isn’t a fan of plum pudding. Is the eggnog past its expiration date?  (Throw a little alcohol into it and that will kill the germs.)  The Princess flew back to Atlanta yesterday, but I had to ship two boxes of stuff that wouldn’t fit in her suitcase and backpack.

As we ride off into a new page of the calendar, actually a whole new calendar, making resolutions we probably won’t keep, let’s all remember to “make the New Year bright” and put the anxiety of Christmas behind us.  God rest us, merry Gentle People.  I think I’ll take a nap.

Miscommunications

Most of us have received that phone call from a number we don’t recognize.  My wife and I look at it, asking each other if it’s a name we recognize.  We answer, and a voice says, “Dave?”  No, there’s no Dave here, so I inform the caller.  If he, she, or they happen to have been brought up with some sense of telephone etiquette, they’d apologize that they had the wrong number.  If not, they’d simply disconnect.  

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Am I Bothering You?

There was a curious letter to the advice columnist, Dear Abby, in today’s paper.  People living in a condo, which means in close quarters, use their fireplace as a heat source for their living room area.  A neighbor with severe respiratory problems has asked them to stop burning, which has put a strain on what we presume is their friendship.  They asked for advice, and Abby gave it.  Give up the fireplace and get an electric heater if you need it, because you’re causing a serious health hazard to your neighbor.  She’s quite right, of course.  Condos represent communal living, whether we like it or not.  I’m guessing that the folks with the fireplace like the ambiance that a fire in the fireplace creates, and they’re reluctant to give it up for that reason, because a fireplace is a notoriously inefficient way to heat a room.  We sometimes forget that our wants, likes, and behaviors can have an impact on those around us, unless we’re living on a mountain top in a cabin by ourselves, or in prison in solitary confinement.  

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Rebuilding my “brand”

We hear so much, particularly in the business world about “branding”.  That for which one is known and, presumably respected.  That upon which one’s reputation and standing are built, giving one’s life meaning and definition.  So, as I renewed my website experience for another year so as to dispense invaluable wisdom and insight, this seems to be an appropriate time to see what my “brand” really is. 

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What the heck happened to summer?

Yes, each year I write a wistful reflection that I call “Ode to Fall”.  I’m not feeling it this year.  This weekend is Labor Day, the “official” close of summer, and I’m unprepared.  When I was teaching, I was acutely aware that summer lasted a week or two.  A teacher friend once commented, years ago, that summer “was all downhill after Fathers’ Day”.  Another teaching acquaintance referred to the large Rose of Sharon as the “oh, sh. . . plant”, because its blossoms heralded the start of school.  Ok, that was bound to happen.  But now that I’m retired, summer can extend itself for as long as possible.  I’m ok with that. 

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Surveys: Don’t Ask the Questions. . . .

if you don’t want to hear the answers. One of the first blogs I wrote, way back in 2019, was about business’s insatiable desire for feedback.  Whether or not they’ll actually take our ever-helpful suggestions is another matter.  But the point is, they pay many people – sometimes independent consulting firms, a lot of money to gather information about our transactions and our overall perception of them.  A number of them, I should think, would want to keep their dealings with us under wraps.  For example:

Our daughter spent the past year living at home while she completed her doctorate in preparation for a college teaching career.  I’m happy to let you all know that it happened, and she’s now in Atlanta, Georgia, preparing for the new year at Emory University.  Our joy and immense pride aside for a moment, we put her worldly possessions in a storage unit for the year, awaiting dispatch to its new location.  She moved in in August, 2024, with her things in a local place that family members had used before.  We actually moved out of that unit this past week, closing out the account.  Shortly thereafter, the company that owns the buildings, and from what I understand, they newly purchased it, sent me an online survey to complete.  Here’s what they wanted to know.

Would I use their facilities in the future for our storage needs?  I told them honestly that I probably would not.  And here’s why.  

Reason #1:  They have listed on the door that their office will be open from 10 AM to 5 PM each day, Monday to Friday.  The person I managed to find in the office indicated that, in addition, they’re closed from 1 – 2 for a lunch hour.  Sounds reasonable.  Part way through the spring, however, I noticed that the credit card I’d given them to bill expired long about April.  I went to the office no less than five times, during office hours – some mornings, some late afternoons as I was driving by, to update the information.  Every time, the office was closed and the blinds drawn.  When I finally found it open, much to my surprise, the young man on the desk informed me that he was actually covering multiple properties, necessitating sporadic office and usually unannounced closures.  The check-out process too was delayed until I could find him actually on the premises.  

Reason #2:  We experienced two, not one but two rate increases within the year we occupied the unit.  The first was about three months after we’d moved in.  I did receive a notification that it was going up.  The second, however, was this spring, and I wasn’t aware of it until I checked the charges and it was more than it had been.  The young man in the office told me that emails had been sent out to announce the rate change, but I didn’t receive one.  All of their other notices came through.  One asks why this business would need to increase prices mid-year.  It’s a building in which our things sit.  It’s not like they have supply chain issues, or the cost of food or transportation will affect them. 

Reason #3:  We moved out a few days after the storage was charged, early in the month.  I had let them know when we’d be moving, and asked about a rebate or a prorated charge for the month.  I was told, “we don’t do that.”  Really?  Isn’t that fairly common practice among those renting out space?  An apartment is typically prorated, so why not a storage unit?  I ended up paying for the whole month, and to quote our good friend, Lady Peacock, “I’m not happy.”

Will the vital information with which I’ve provided feedback be taken to heart and used to make policy changes?  I’d like to think so, but I seriously doubt it.  And my guess is that someone in some office somewhere will indicate to their colleagues that “we shouldn’t have asked him.”  Once again, as we used to say in dealing with our children, don’t ask the question if you don’t want to hear the answer.

Meanwhile, I went to the bank yesterday to get some money – more than the ATM could provide.  The teller was very nice and helpful.  I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I actually talked to a bank teller.  Anyway, the bank sent me a survey, asking how it went.  It was fine.  I gave her the account number and my driver’s license, and she gave me my money.  To quote a former president, “Mission Accomplished”.  She didn’t ask me for a birth certificate, passport, or voter registration information.  Just quick, clean, and simple.  So, in comes the survey online from the bank.  “How was your experience with us?”  I checked off that it was fully satisfactory.  No voices raised, no foul language or nasty behavior.  All in all, very good.  However, once I checked that off, foolishly thinking that when I hit “submit”, that was the end of it, nay, nay.  It went on.  Five or six questions about the teller.  More about the facilities.  Well, I had to stand in line, but as I was the only customer in the bank, and its employees outnumbered me, it was fine too.  The walk-through maze was short because, as I said, there wasn’t much foot traffic.  At that point, I clicked off the survey, so I have no idea if letting them know that my visit was satisfactory even went through.  

Customer surveys are becoming the norm in the business community, and there is seemingly no way to cull the ones that really are unnecessary.  We have services too to which customers can reach out.  Yelp, Trip Advisor, and the like.  They all invite us to provide feedback on our experiences.  When I’m buying something online, say from a noted vendor that I won’t name (let’s just say the owner recently had a lavish wedding in Venice), I will typically check the buyer responses to see if there’s anything useful.  Often there is, comments that give me insights into the product, like “the motor is underpowered, so if using for . . . . . “ to “I just wanted to . . . . . ., and this worked very well for me.”  Great.  That’s all very helpful.  The ones that often surprise me are restaurant comments.  Some eateries that we like and use regularly will get some really negative feedback.  Were there real problems with the food or service, or are these people unduly fussy? 

Nobody will, of course, be happy with everyone or every business with whom they’ve had contact, or as we now say, “an experience”.  That’s unreasonable.  Something will go wrong, and human nature being what it is, we tend to overemphasize the negative and ignore the positive.  Surveys will therefore have perhaps a disproportionate number of negatives, and we should understand that when we screen them.  The question remains, though.  Do these folks asking us to survey their goods and / or services really read them and take corrective action, or do they just go through the motions, satisfied that they’ve done what they could?  Because if it’s a half-hearted routine, don’t bother us.  Like an attorney in a courtroom, you shouldn’t ask a question unless you already know the answer.

Things I don’t want to see . . .on TV

Whether it’s shows or commercial advertising, there are some things I just don’t need to see.  Call me old fashioned, or outdated, but I really don’t understand what the folks making some critical decisions about what streams out onto my tv screen are thinking.  And worse, I have to ask myself, “are there people that actually like to see this stuff?”  There must be, because they’re appearing on the screen.  

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More on the Art of Returns

Some years ago, I wrote about returning items that, for one reason or another, just don’t work. Sending back items has become substantially easier, what with so many of us doing our shopping online. Vendors have made it easier to return items by putting them back in their boxes and dropping them off at a pick-up center. No personal interaction, no lengthy explanations.  Sometimes you can indicate what was wrong – it came too late, it was damaged in shipping, whatever.  And you can even check off “other”, and in the box write:  “I changed my mind.” Even your refunds come back quickly – no waiting until they receive the item. Just pass “go” and collect . . . .

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Reflections, again, on Father’s Day

Once again, Father’s Day is here, so I’m reposting some reflections on all fathers, be they biological, grandfathers, father figures, favorite uncles, surrogates, and others that have played or continue to play a role.  I often think of my father, a man left without his own at age three and left him nothing but a name, and who survived two stepfathers, one of whom he connected with for a short time, and one with whom he didn’t, and of consequence didn’t really have a model.  He was an only child, and thus didn’t have any siblings with whom to share the experience.  Considering that, he did remarkably well in the parent department, raising three of us with generosity.  He wasn’t a demonstrably doting parent, but we knew that he loved and cared deeply about all of us.  I had a personality closest to my mother’s, so he and I were perhaps closer than my brother or sister, because I understood him. Oh, yes.  He loved them both, but my brother was a bit of a challenge, and my sister, the youngest, was the princess.  When it came to managing his affairs later on, that became my role.

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