Servin' it up

I read recently a review by a restaurant evaluation company (posted online) concerning some of the worst restaurants to work for. They listed all types and styles of eating holes from McDonalds to some of the higher-end eateries like Ruth's Chris. They seemed to not like much about the industry.

Now, I have never worked in the food service industry but I have been in the retail service industry for many years. Their claim of conditions include low pay and few benefits. Okay, I understand that. My complaint with them is those are the same complaints brought up by virtually every other group that works in what is essentially a "starter" job. Retail could also be called a starter job. What is that? It's the first or second job you get directly out of school or when you are in school. It's not supposed to be the job you rely on to put a roof over your head and retire on.

Too many forget that these jobs are supposed to be stepping stones to learn how to work, interact with the public and business associates. Too many who enter these jobs think they are now guaranteed full wages and benefits and then complain when they don't get them. They are also the ones who at 32 years old haven't figured out how to move out of the "entry level" positions. Entry level is just that. Unless you are a constant complainer and social misfit, these are jobs and positions you are supposed to grow and learn your way out of to move up to higher paying positions with real-life benefits.

There are always places to move up within most companies. Unfortunately there are also in every company those who think they should be granted higher pay and benefits just because they show up to work. The world doesn't work that way. If one doesn't want to be stuck in a low-paying job, learn and apply yourself. Being a buss-boy wasn't meant to be a full time job any more than is being a cashier for Walmart; and it never was.

Toothpast on my shower door

My Beloved and I are in a stretch of four days of watching our grandson, Ragin' Cage. Now, as we are not used to continual twenty-four hour parenting at this time in our lives, especially when it comes to a three-year-old who has more energy than an aurora borealis, it can begin to quickly take its toll on one.

You must also remember I have extremely limited experience with children of this age, unlike My Beloved. She is much more able to cope with pouting and tantrums than am I. I am more likely to pick him up and hold him when things aren't working out the way they are supposed to, at least in my mind. How the mind of a 3 year old works is still a mystery to me.

The other morning as I was getting ready for a doctor's appointment and My Beloved was already at work, I had to take a shower. Well, I can't duct tape him to a chair for ten minutes, although the thought crossed my mind. Not three minutes into the shower I have a blue blob of toothpaste smeared across the shower door as he runs back down the hall half naked with his alien-shaped toothbrush. Sigh...

I get out of the shower and towel off only to find him standing in the sink in the other bathroom brushing his teeth and his hair at the same time. He turns around as he sees me in the mirror and gives me a huge blue toothy smile. How can you not fall in love with that.

Still again, duct tape may just be my best baby-sitting tool. I'm just not as fast as I used to be..

Proud validation

I am a parent. That is one of the things I am and that will never change. Within that title and job description comes all the headache and pride one can imagine. No matter the age of your child, be they a teen to an adult you carry their lives on your shoulders and in your heart. Then at one time or another, you realize you did a good job of getting them ready for life and the choices they make.

Yesterday, my daughter lived up to the values My Beloved and I have tried to instill in her. She is/was a general manager for a small hotel chain. She worked for a private ownership group with a "national sign" hanging on the door.  She was asked to terminate the employment of staff members who the owners decided "did not look good enough or were pretty enough". (Since I wasn't in the room, that is obviously not a direct quote). She was also instructed to hire new staff that more looked the part the owners wanted. Rather than do this as she felt this was an unethical practice, she quit her job.

My daughter has worked hard to become the person she is in life and be able to execute a position in a difficult industry. She doesn't make a lot of money. She could have easily done what the owners wanted and she would still be employed today. To her credit and in a difficult jobs market, she did the right thing. She stood up for her values in a difficult ethical situation. Hire the person who can do the job no matter their physical appearance.

I am a parent that is truly beaming with a father's pride. My daughter is the person today I always knew she would become and she proved that to the world in a challenge to her values and I called her today to tell her that.

I couldn't be prouder of her life.

Burp!

The self-important Mayor of New York City, Michael Bloomberg, has made it his personal crusade to impose upon all people who live in, work in, or visit his fair city what amounts to his own food code.

Mr. Mayor has decided that since folks are not smart enough to stop overindulging in the consumption of sugary drinks, he will do something about it. He has proposed an amendment to the city's health code banning the sale of all sugary soft drinks over 16 ounces at restaurants and other food service outfits.

As a result of his proposal, everyone in NYC will become as thin as a waif, preferably drinking only diet sodas or water.

Except, of course, the ban does not apply to convenience stores, grocery stores, and drug stores because they sell mostly bottles and cans of the sweet, syrupy drinks the mayor does not want anyone to have. The proposed statute also does not limit the number of 16-oz. drinks a person can purchase at one time, in a day, a week, or a year (yet).

And the mayor also does not see anything ironic about his drink ban proposal (for health reasons) coming two days before he helps officially celebrate National Donut Day.

Entenmann's bakers will unveil a 1-foot diameter donut in NYC along with a Proclamation Letter signed by the good mayor himself.

Ahh...politicians; they rarely let their right hand know what their left hand is doing.

A hollow echo of things past

One of the things you learn as the years creep forward is how much you rely on things, things the way they are. You are used to the chair in the corner, the rug beneath the table and the sofa against that particular wall. On occasion these things are changed around a bit but the feeling quickly settles back into a familiar pattern. All of these things constitute a home. But the home is more than just the stuff inside no matter where it is located.

A home is a sense of place and a feeling one gets when it is entered. You can step into another's house and almost immediately know if it's a home, a home of caring and love or a house of tolerance. My Beloved is currently away on a girls trip. As is usually the case when that happens I find myself falling back into patterns of twenty years ago when I was a bachelor. I stay at work a little longer, I eat at the kitchen sink (guys do that but I don't think women do), and generally fill my time with busy-work. I think back on those times when she is away and I reminded how things were back then. I was content but I wouldn't call my life happy. I had a close circle of friends (and still do) and a strong family bond to fall back on. But as I rumble around my house tonight, twenty-plus years removed from being single I can still remember the feelings of a life long-ago, a room with muted silence, a hollow echo and the way my life felt back then.

My Beloved makes my house a home.

Floppin' around the clock tonight

Years ago as a young boy, my brothers and I were nearly always involved in some sort of sport around the neighborhood. Back in those days there weren't too many opportunities to join organized sports if it wasn't through the school. Most games were pickup with the other boys of the neighborhood. Many times they involved contests against those who were older than I. At some point, you pay a price for that.

In those games, mostly football and basketball, I got whipped pretty good some times but often I gave as good as I got. That is how one learns to strive and survive. That is where a young boy learns how to be tough when he needs to be. That is where one learns effort and how not to back down. You learn to stand your ground.

That notion brings me to the topic at hand. What's with all this flippin' floppin' in sports these days? Someone with the ball goes by and the defender falls down like a leaf in a gentle breeze flailing around like he was just shot with a howitzer. In soccer, the only thing you don't see at this time is an ambulance careening onto the field to scrape the chap up.

Unfortunately, this Euro flippin' has made its way into American sports, specifically basketball. You can't watch a game without a defender in the lane falling backwards before the offensive player even steps onto the court. Some claim its to try to gain an advantage. I think theater is no way to cover up for poor skills.

It's time to get back to standing ones ground; surrender and weakness is not an option.

Come on get happy

This is a post my esteemed brother Graybeard may or may not take offense to as he is employed in the wonderful world of the postal carrier's fantasy ensemble. Now, the post office is much maligned (often by me) but they get their fair share of good publicity as well. Nearly every year there is a story about a good Samaritan that helps someone truly in need. Unfortunately, those stories are too often overshadowed by the bad stories leaking out of postal abuse and misuse and general ineptitude, some deserving and some not.

A week or so ago I made a trip to the office near my work. As usual I was saddled with a long line and one person taking care of them with two "registers" closed and no one else around. This person had the look of death upon their face and one could tell they wished to be anywhere but where they were. Being in retail and customer service my entire adult life I can more than understand their feelings.

That being said, I think that is one of the biggest problems that is facing the post office in this country. No one wants to go there and a big reason is the lack of service in this service industry. Rarely do I find a smile or any other turn of the facial muscles from this group. I understand your job may at times be boring but if you actually put some effort into doing your tasks and interacting positively with your customers it might, just might make your job more tolerable. Over the years I think I could likely count on one hand the postal clerks that I would want to stand in front of to mail a letter.

If the postal service really wanted to begin to turn their image around in the public eye, perhaps they should place employees in their stations that enjoy working with people instead of someone who has the interactive capacity of a cardboard box. The paying public may then not dread using your service.

Just a thought......