Just Do It!

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Years ago, Nike created a memorable marketing campaign with “Just Do It.” The concept was “don’t procrastinate,” “don’t find excuses to fail,” - Just Do It. Of course, Nike had the equipment to help you get it done. People were motivated and sales rocketed. Too bad we can’t take this “just do it” concept and move it into our daily lives. But we no longer stop at procrastinating. Now, many of us go out of our way to say it – but not do it. I’m not talking about losing ten pounds and then gaining three; or, putting off a house repair for a variety of excuses, some valid, others not. Although those certainly qualify. I’m referring to things like a friend who says he’ll call and doesn’t. That’s happened to me more times than I can count, but that’s because I usually stop when I run out of fingers. No sense going to the toes, it only adds salt to the wound.

What really bugs me is when I contact the friend and point out he/she failed to call, they dismiss it as no big deal. Not that my schedule is that busy these days, but still, I gave up something to wait for a call that never came. I might have wanted to start some yard work, or go to a movie. Winston, my Yorkie, likes to take me for walks. So, to me, being “stood up” is a big deal. It’s ok if I waste my time; it’s not okay if someone else does.

I attended a sales seminar last week. The speaker was trying to get me to own my own “business.” My very own Travel Club. It could make me rich. He’s a millionaire so I can be, too. After all the claims were delivered, our motivational speaker saw I wasn’t convinced. I noted his math didn’t add up, that my “business” was the same website as everyone else in the club and that while he said no sales would be involved, my income would be dependent on how many friends I signed up for the program and how much travel everyone bought. As a last resort, he suggested I “just do it.” Take a leap of faith and figure it out on the way down. If he had thrown in a Nike parachute I might have given it more thought, but my mother used to ask, “If someone told you to jump off a bridge, would you?” (FYI, the correct answer is no).

For years, Comcast told us how they were “Comcastic.” At least for me, they didn’t live up to the promise. AT&T Uverse promises a better experience. Today, I learned I can’t dial 311 (city services) on my phone, or 411. I have to get regular AT&T phone service for that. I thought I had the “latest and greatest” in communication only to find out the old land line does something the new digital service can’t. Can I dial 911? The customer service representative assured me that will work. I’m not looking forward to finding out – one way or the other.

Last night, my wife was wondering how we can get some of the secondary digital channels we see promoted on the local stations. I took out my channel guide, went through 400+ “channels” and not one was the secondary broadcast from our local stations. Undaunted, I called customer service and asked where I might find these broadcasts. He referred me to the website. He was too lazy to get my answer, so he thought I should just do it. He did, of course, thank me for calling and told me to have a nice day. By the way, the website has no information on local channels, so I thought I’d call a local station to get the information. The switchboard operator understood my question, but apparently no-one in management had the foresight to prepare her for such a question. With Uverse growing so rapidly, one would think that a TV station, with a vested interest in promoting their product, would make sure their programming is available on Uverse. Perhaps it’s a cost vs. reward conundrum.

But “thinking” isn’t always a management strong suit. My latest example is from our beloved City of Houston. Mayor Anise Parker ran on a platform of fiscal responsibility. Who better than her, she asked, is able to control city expenses? I could.

Apparently, effective in April, the city decided that all yard waste must be placed in city approved biodegradable plastic bags. A great idea. I just wish they had told us. In the last several weeks, I’ve received at least four letters from Waste Management Services informing me of pick-up and recycling schedule changes. In not one of those letters did anyone mention the need for special bags. On Sunday evening, I placed my yard waste at the curb in recyclable-biodegradable paper bags for Monday pickup. The bags even say “ideal for composting.” My bags were left behind, with a green sticker informing me of the change to the rules. Channel 13 ran a story last night telling viewers of the new regulations. By then, it was too late for my neighborhood. I guess Dave Ward didn’t consider the story “breaking news.” So, with deference to State Farm, like a good neighbor, I pulled my yard waste bags back to my storage area only to hear the trucks come and pick them up the next morning. By the way, that’s when I learned I couldn’t make a 311 call on Uverse!

I called City Hall (they have a real phone number) and spoke with a very nice City Services Representative. She explained the new law and said that if they left a sticker on your bag they would come back the next day to pick them up. “How was I to know this,” I asked? That information wasn’t on the sticker. It was an “I gotcha” moment. I also asked where I could find these special bags. The representative gave me a list of places such as grocery stores and hardware/home improvement stores. I’ve been in each of them several times over the last month and I have yet to see any display saying “here they are … you must have these.” Clearly, I wasn’t alone, my street was lined with unrecyclable plastic yard bags; and only a few lazy neighbors were rewarded for their lack of effort when the trucks returned the following day.

Now, if I were Mayor, I would have made sure the TV and Radio stations had the information BEFORE the bags were needed, not the day after. I would have made sure the Sunday Chronicle carried the story on the front page of at least the local section. I certainly would have included the message in any of the countless letters that were mailed to every household in the city. And, I would have picked up the yard waste bags and left a note in the mailbox or front door. Instead, they fired up the trucks a second day, drove them around the neighborhoods they had just visited and created unnecessary salary and fuel expenses. Let’s not forget Waste Management is now running late for the Tuesday neighborhoods, because they had to retrace their Monday routes. No doubt, on Wednesday, they’ll retrace their Tuesday route. I’m sure this is logical to someone, but I don’t know why they are in management.

Here’s an odd notion. If you say you’re going to do something … actually do it. Oh, and if you’re going to do something, let someone know. Maybe that’s the next great add campaign: “Let Someone Know.”

The Name Game

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You may have seen the reports where Lindsey Lohan is suing E*TRADE because the name Lindsey was used in a recent commercial featuring babies. The babies in the commercial referred to a "milkaholic, Lindsey." Apparently, Ms. Lohan feels she is in the league of Madonna, Oprah, Cher, Sting, and Bono who have earned the benefit of instant recognition. Maybe it's me, but I don't think Lindsey has earned the right to drop the Lohan.

But in a sense, I'm rooting for her. If Ms. Lohan wins her $100 million lawsuit, the case will serve as precedence for me. I'll never have to work again. And, I'll have enough money for my children's grandchildren. You see, I own the name Ed. And frankly, people have been illegally using my name to their benefit for decades.
Don't believe me? Here are some examples:

• The TV Show called, "Mr. Ed." That's my name. I didn't make a dime off that show. I should have. For goodness sake, they called me a horse.
• The motion picture, "EDtv" starring Matthew McConaughey and directed by Ron Howard. They have lots of money and they made it off my name. Add in the other stars in the film, like Ellen DeGeneres, Martin Landau, Rob Reiner, Dennis Hopper, and Elizabeth Hurley and I may have just hit the mother-load.
• The TV Show, "Ed." Don't remember that one? It aired from 2000-2004. It was about a lawyer who decided to return to his home town and own a bowling alley. While the star of the show Tom Cavanagh hasn't become a big star, cast members Julie Bowen went on to Boston Legal and now Family Matters. And Justin Long has had roles in a Die Hard 4, Dodgeball and a bunch of commercials for Mac. He's dating Drew Barrymore. And here's the real jackpot, the show was produced by David Letterman's company, "Worldwide Pants." Ka-Ching!
• Let's not forget "Living With Ed," starring Ed Begley, Jr. Not familiar with this one? It's about a nutcase (okay, a very rich nutcase) who spends millions of dollars on energy saving appliances to save 10 cents on his utility bill. This is the same guy the government chose to use in the Census commercials. I wonder if he knows how many trees were killed in the filming of that commercial.

But there's lots more money to be made. Why stop at TV shows and movies? My name has been claimed by a disease. You've heard of ED. This is a double suit waiting to happen. First, the creators of the disease Erectile Dysfunction abbreviated their name to ED. Second, by making a long name into an abbreviation, the makers of Viagra, Cialis, and the other ED drugs are making humor at my personal expense. They shortened the full name of the disease. I'm short. That hurts. I'm a sensitive guy. I'm thinking Class Action for this egregious violation of my name. And don't get me started that the disease is for a body part that should never be shortened (except maybe at a Bris). That should be worth something.

Let's not forget what our learning centers have done at my expense.

• Higher Education has become Higher Ed. A clear drug reference at my expense.
• Special Education is now Special Ed. Is that anything like Advanced Placement? I don't think so.
• Physical Education has become Phys Ed. Another short joke, not to mention my aversion to exercise. I wrestle with my conscience. It's exhausting.
• The Board of Education has become Board Ed. A simple typo and I'm Bored Ed which is injurious to my personal reputation and snappy personality.

Honestly, I'm not going to stand for this. I'll be watching Lindsey's case very carefully. I'm on her side, because if Ms. Lohan can win her suit, I can win mine. And then, I'm going after the little guys.
So, a word to the wise, if you own an Ed's Plumbing, Ed's Diner, Ed's Exxon, Ed's Butcher Shop, Ed's Dry Cleaner, Ed's Electrical Repair, Ed's Appliances, or Ed's Heating & AC ... I'm coming after you!

What Have I Done, Lately?

I like to think of myself as a fairly good conversationalist. My wife likes to say I could carry on a conversation with a tree. Honestly, unlimited minutes were invented for people like me. I took a public speaking course in college, and my assignment was to discuss the qualities of a pocket comb. I found so many things to discuss my instructor just gave me an "A" and told me to sit down. I had utilized most of the 50 minute class.

So, imagine my surprise when I was asked a question at a recent job interview that had me stumped. I was asked, "What have you done to improve yourself while you've been out of work?" Thankfully, I avoided my typical smart-ass remark, "what's to improve?" But seriously, what have I done to improve myself over these past several months?

The best I could come up with, at the spur of the moment, was some inane response that I've been taking daily walks with my dog, reading, and playing on Facebook and Twitter. Maybe Proctor and Gamble would call that "New and Improved," but by my standards I fell short. Really, what have I done to improve myself since I've been out of work? The most obvious answer is I've looked for work. Constantly. That's not really improving myself; it's more of a survival project.

But the more I think about it, the more I realized an opportunity to recognize several things that have been happening while I've been sitting at this keyboard each day. I've learned how persistent and determined I am about finding work. I realized how fortunate I am to have a wife, children, and friends who offer constant and uplifting support (not to mention a free meal every now and then). I have a dog that is content to spend the day in my office while I impersonate Sherlock Holmes and search for openings. I have faith. I don't know if I've improved, but I am certainly more aware of the blessings in my life.

I volunteered to help a wonderful group help rebuild homes in Hurricane Ike ravaged Galveston. And yes, I have been reading more. To the point where I'm feeling guilty about the trees I've destroyed with all my hardcover and paperback books. Perhaps we should consider a Kindle, or a new iPad. I have a friend who sells the new "Nook" from Barnes & Noble. Maybe he could get me a deal, so I could read as much as I want and never kill another tree. Except for the one in my yard which I cut down thinking the winter freeze had killed it. But that's another story.

I've learned I really can stick to a schedule when no-one is saying "the work day starts at 8:30." I've learned I can be positive and upbeat when disappointment happens. I've fallen in love with my wife all over again, because I see how hard she works, without the benefit of a support group, to make sure I stay positive. I've been reminded life is too short to be small. I think those are improvements. And, I've learned there are ways to cook besides grilling. While I've avoided the TV talk show queens, I have fallen for the Food Network and Travel Channel. Thankfully, I have the willpower to only succumb to their charm in the evening. Shows like Man vs. Food, Diners and Drive-Ins, & Dives, inspire me. Not to make a twelve pound burger; but to make something besides grilled chicken. Did you know there are other spices and seasonings besides Cavendar's and Accent? At least once a week, I'll go online, or pull out one of my wife's cookbooks and try something different. I've even clipped recipes from the Chronicle! Not necessarily complicated, but different. I made a mango salsa. Ok, I used canned peaches instead of mango, but I did put in parsley and other green things I wouldn't normally touch. I don't know why, but I also added jalapeno, though it wasn't in the recipe. The heat of the pepper, the cool of the peach … no kidding, gives it a try. My wife liked it so much she went and bought a mango and made her own version of the salsa, complete with jalapenos.

Of course, when I get inspired, throw things into a rub or a marinade, and create something wonderful I have no way to duplicate the recipe, because I really have no idea what I'm doing. I'm reminded of when my mother would say "a pinch of this and a pinch of that" when I asked how she made something. When I watch the Food Network, I see great chefs saying "a little of this-a little of that" and they just dump handfuls of spices into their recipes. I doubt anything they make comes out the same way twice. So if my mom could make it up, my wife can make it up, and these chefs can make it up, I can, too. So, I've learned to cook.

Now, ask me again, "what have you done to improve yourself while you've been out of work?"

Nothing. What's to improve?

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Opposites Attract

Cover of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus

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My wife and I may be proof of the old saying, “opposites attract.” She’s a Texan, I’m a Connecticut Yankee. She’s Christian, I’m Jewish. She’s politically conservative, I lean toward the liberal. We do see eye to eye on some things, but that’s mostly because she’s 5’1” and I’m 5’2”.

Back in 1992, John Gray published his book, “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus.” I never read the book. But I suspect he found some empirical evidence that we really do see things differently. For example, my wife loves soup. I like it, too. I just don’t love it. To me, soup is either an appetizer or something to eat when I’m not feeling well. To my wife, soup is an entire dinner.

In fairness, my wife makes great soup. She makes a chicken soup that would do my Bubby proud. She makes a great split pea soup, a delicious beef & barley soup, a knock-out chili (it’s kind of soup) and really good stews. But it’s soup. Liquid. Something I slurp. Loudly. I’d be better off drinking a glass of water. I can do that quietly and I’m far less likely to drip some on my shirt.

Soup is something my wife particularly likes on cold, rainy days. Since I can’t barbeque on those kinds of days, I accept the inevitable potpourri of liquid, vegetables and whatever chicken or beef is in the freezer. But lately, my wife has been working several days a week while I concentrate on finding my next job. She’s the breadwinner. I try to find ways to contribute by running errands, grocery shopping, making dinner, and filing for unemployment.

Yesterday was a particularly wet and cold day and my wife was at work. I thought I’d do something nice and take a stab at making some chicken soup. I found a Jewish cookbook (who knows more about chicken soup) and started the process. I cut up celery, carrots, cabbage, and onions. I found some fresh garlic and ginger. I added some soup stock and bouillon and chicken breast meat. I even found a box of Matzoh Ball mix. Then, I began my witches brew.

I boiled and stirred, I simmered and stirred and to my amazement, the Matzoh Balls came out large and fluffy (my mother would have been jealous); and the soup actually tasted like something my wife would have made. I was very proud of myself. After all, I’d made my wife’s favorite dinner. Soup.

When she came home, my wife’s first words were, “something smells delicious.” I couldn’t have been happier. Until her next sentence. “I hope you’re not making chicken soup.” That’s where “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” comes to play. My wife was upset that I had taken her joy of making soup and that I had made something I had rejected for dinner just the night before when it was cold but not rainy.

And in the words of Claire Boothe Luce, “no good deed goes unpunished.” I thought I was doing something thoughtful. My wife thought differently. And my wife is always right. I learned that early in our courtship. So, I've learned my lesson. I can make dinner for my wife, but not soup. I need to stick to grilling. If anyone can make spaghetti on a Weber grill, please let me know.

Who knew making soup could get me in such hot water?

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What's In A Word?

I was having lunch the other day with an area sales manager who represents some cutting edge technology. For a change, I could actually understand what this company was trying to accomplish rather than have someone with a pocket protector unsuccessfully try to explain the simplicity of an idea in the most complex fashion. My youngest son, a senior at Georgia Tech, has the same communication challenge with me. What he can see in his head, I can't see with big print and a magnifying glass.

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At lunch, my new friend and I were laughing about the complexity of communication. How industries have created new buzzwords to make the tried and true sound fresh and revolutionary. Marcom materials is a descriptor I often see in job descriptions. Apparently, marketing and communication materials takes too many keystrokes, and someone reduced the phrase to "Marcom". It caught on.

My lunch buddy and I agreed that with all the new ways to communicate, most of us still fail to get our message across. Some hide behind voicemail, calling at lunchtime or after hours so we know we won't actually talk to a human being. Some hide behind email, triggering a string of messages that never get the issue resolved. Others, mostly big business, seem to think they won't suffer when they hide behind voicemail. Few ever return calls. We all seem to want the latest iPhone or Android device so we can communicate better, but most just read a message and go back to whatever they were doing. You'll notice Apple never advertises the iPhone as a conversation tool; but rather all the neat things you can do with it. Android talks about different ways of being connected, not about call quality. Having a conversation, apparently, isn't a high priority with a mobile phone.

Years ago, someone came up with the notion of "it's a McDonald's world.” Meaning, essentially, we all want an instant payoff. That's why scratch off lottery tickets sell better than the ones you have to wait for a few days to confirm you threw away your $5. We won't wait in line inside a restaurant, but we will wait in line at the drive through. Ironically, it appears we'd rather take 10 minutes to write a text and wait for a reply than to actually speak to someone. So much for instant payoff.

Another popular word comes from the tried and true concept of "who you know." Most jobs are found by a contact of someone you know. Today, we call that "networking.” I see people spending hours every day building their "network" on Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn. Apparently, if you achieve a certain number of contacts you earn bragging rights. People I've never met ask to be my friend. And honestly, do you really think I'm going to reach out to a third level connection or fellow group member on LinkedIn and ask for an introduction to someone he or she probably doesn't even know? Or that the introduction will actually do some good? I know Kevin Bacon and I have six levels of separation; but I don't think he’ll take my phone call. He might, however, send me to voicemail.

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Still, with the way we've managed to isolate ourselves amidst all of our ways to connect with one another, networking is the only way many know how to connect. And that's a scary thought, because I was recently reminded the difference between "not working" and "networking" is one letter.

Vanna, I'd like to buy a vowel.

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College Regrets?

With all the College Bowl games being played these days, I couldn't help but reflect back to my academic years. In my nostalgia, I actually contacted my college (Ithaca. No, not Cornell) and requested my transcripts. I was stunned. I have absolutely no recollection of ever taking a course called "Cultural Anthropology". Or, for that matter, something called "Introduction to Philosophy of Religion". I must have liked it, because I took two semesters. Maybe the professor was cute.

For those who know me, I suppose you'd find it somewhat ironic that I took classes in Speech Fundamentals, Introduction to Music, Argument & Debate, Public Opinion, and General Semantics. Apparently, I had little appreciation for music. I only earned a "C" in that class. I took a class called "Discussion". Even then, I liked to talk (not so much listen). I "aced "that class. I only got a "B" in Argument and Debate. I was probably good at arguing and lousy at debate.

I also joined a fraternity. Something called Alpha Epsilon Rho, a National Honorary Radio- Television Fraternity. If I was a TV Major, I'd have called it National Honorary Television-Radio Fraternity. I really don't know why they called it an Honorary Fraternity. I had to pledge, carry a pledge book, make a paddle, eat goldfish; just like if I had joined some "jock frat". Grades certainly weren't a requirement. Although I'm proud to say I made the Dean's List for the right reasons my final three semesters.

I only have a few regrets from my college days. A girlfriend broke up with me in my Junior year and the last time I saw her was at graduation. I think I waved with my middle finger. I'd like to take that back. In my Senior year I had a crush on a redhead from New York. After graduation, we made plans to get away for a weekend. She stood me up. I never got to wave goodbye.

But my biggest regret, was not getting into college sports. Now, I understand the Ithaca College Bombers weren't in the league of Texas, Florida, or Alabama, but they were our team. I think I attended two games. One on campus, and once at Cortland (yes, where the apples are grown). I think the Cortland game was to impress that previously mentioned redhead. Obviously, it didn't work.

So tomorrow, as Texas plays for the national championship; I'll pretend the Ithaca College Bombers are on the field. No. Not a good idea. Alabama would destroy the Bombers. But Ithaca has a great music school; so I'll pretend it's the Ithaca College Marching Band on the field at half-time.

But then, what do I know? I only got a "C" in music appreciation.

Customer Service

Customer Service. The term has become somewhat of an oxymoron, like "Military Intelligence" or "boneless ribs".

Some businesses just don't get it, or more likely, figure there's little you will do after you voice your displeasure. We've all gone through "voicemail" hell just to speak with an actual human being. I don't bother listening to the menu any longer, I just pound on the "O" key until I get someone to answer. This way, I feel like I'm venting while exercising my index finger. My middle finger seems to be overworked these days.

Typically, after waiting 30 minutes before trying to explain the problem to customer service, the agent will put me on hold for another 15 minutes and then wrap up the conversation with a "thank you for calling" and ask "is there's anything else I can do"? I'll usually respond with a simple "thanks for your help". I'm told "no problem and have a nice day". I don't let them get away with that. I've spent 45 minutes on the phone because their company screwed something up; it IS a problem.

My wife goes nuts when a waiter says "no problem" when we ask for water, or an extra napkin. I don't blame her. I would hope it isn't a problem, I think it's their job. Last night, we joined our good friends and neighbors for dinner at a local Mexican Restaurant. Our friends ordered frozen margaritas. They got a melted down slushy. My friend showed the waitress the watery concoction and she offered to bring another. "Sure, if they're frozen", replied my friend. The waitress dutifully trudged to the bar and returned empty handed. "I'm sorry, they just started a new batch and they aren't very frozen". Then, she asked if he wanted a margarita on the rocks. "No," said my friend, "I'd like it frozen". The waitress replied with a "sorry 'bout that" and went on with her duties. She couldn't have been too sorry, she charged him for both watered down drinks. I'm willing to bet the manager of the restaurant would have removed the drinks from the bill; but the waitress who comes into the most contact with clients either didn't have the authority or the wits to figure out the proper solution. Think my friend will return to the restaurant soon? They lost a customer over a a $4.95 house margarita. Silly. No, stupid.

On the other side of the story, my wife gave me a gift last March for our anniversary. A beautiful desk clock set in a wooden box with a compass. Why, I don't know, but when I reset the clock back an hour for standard time, the clock died. A new battery didn't solve the situation. So, I went to the store where she bought the clock, Ann's Fine Gifts in Houston, and asked if I could order a replacement for the clock insert. They wouldn't think of it. Nope, they came out and replaced the entire mechanism and sent me on my way. How much goodwill did that gesture create? While I can't yet put a dollar figure to that thought, I will tell you Ann's is where I'll be doing the majority of my Christmas shopping this year.

Customer Service. Ann's has proven it' s not an oxymoron. Apparently, at this store, it's a policy. And the restaurant? Well, let's just say it's something to "Chuy" on for a while.