Many years ago, Pizza Hut had a series of television commercials featuring famous people talking about the whole pizza experience. Rita Moreno did one, as did Herbie Hancock. Herbie’s was great. He talked about how was to get a pizza and share it. “Sure! Have a slice.” That part that has stayed with me until today, though, was where he talked about the last slice.
You see, he said, that last slice belongs to the one who bought the pizza. “That last slice is mine.” Every so often I have a pizza by myself, and therefore I don’t have to worry about snagging the last piece. But I do think about it and plan for it. You see, there’s almost always one piece of the pie that is better than its mates. One piece that has the best distribution of toppings and cheese.
You scout out that piece first thing, and then you locate the second best piece, which is usually a neighbor of the best. You eat the second best slice first, and then work your way around the pizza eating all the other pieces before arriving at the last one.
And you eat that last one crust first, of course, so that the last bite is arguably the best bite of the whole affair.
Zanshin.net is just a speck of lint under a finger nail on the long arm of the Internet. As a weblog it gets few visitors, and even fewer comments. While the domain has existed for over 11 years now, the site has been formatted as a blog only since December 1999. I have no accurate, end-to-end accounting for the total number of site visits or page views, but I can make some guesses.
In the last two years and four months the site has enjoyed just over 11,000 visitors who have viewed some 20,000 pages. I have several regular readers who visit the site daily. If we say there are 5 regular visitors, who each visit the main page of the site 5 days a week, then in the last two years these regular visitors account for approximately 1300 of the visit and page view counts. The remaining 9700 visits are random visitors, usually from a search for “shotski’s ring” or any alphabetical construct involving the letter “z.” I believe that the number of visitors is slowly increasing, but even assuming 5,000 or so per year, I’ve had no more than 50,000 unique site visits; a statistical insignificance compared to the total number of site visit the Internet must get.
The nearly 1500 entries I’ve posted here have attracted a grand total of 86 comments. Since converting the site’s backend to Wordpress at the beginning of the year, the number of comments have doubled. Most of those were a result of the generosity of another site providing a link to my humble little Internet backwater. So the idea that a comment would suddenly become the nexus of a controversy is astonishing to me.
Last month, I wrote about a topic that was interesting to me. I referenced a couple of articles I had seen online and expressed my opinion about the topic. The posting must have resonated with more than one person as it almost immediately received a couple of comments. The first linked to yet another posting that was relevant to my central theme.
The second comment has become the center of a tempest in a teapot. The comment author linked to a story with a real world example of the central topic of my posting. About 9 days later a third comment was added to the posting, refuting the claims made in the second comment. Yesterday a fourth comment was added, refuting an obscure portion of the second comment.
Yesterday afternoon I received an email with the subject line “defamatory web comment.” The mail appears to be from the subject of the second comment, and author of the third comment. The email objects to the comment, calling it a “knowing or reckless falsity” and ask “whom my lawyer or I can contact about asking that this false and defamatory post [sic] removed as soon as possible.”
NB: The posting I made on my site has nothing to do with the subject of the comments. I believe the author of the letter is actually referring to a comment attached to the posting.
Maybe my little site has been promoted from lint under the finger nail of the long arm of the Internet to a hair follicle on its little finger.
A number of thoughts run through your mind when you are presented with what appears to be the precursor to a cease and desist letter. And a number of emotions go along with these thoughts. The extremes can be summed up as “you’ve got to be kidding me!” and “why didn’t I use a pseudonym when I created this site?”
Some web searching revealed some interesting facts. The same comment, letter for letter, appears on other personal blogs. Followed by the same rebuttal. That the contended comment has a malformed link which doesn’t lead anywhere in all instances I’ve found of it seems to have escaped notice. I have no way of knowing how prominent the handful of other sites infected with this comment are, but I suspect they are not any closer to the head of the Internet than Zanshin.
Turning to the potential legal aspect of this soap opera I eventually found the Electronic Freedom Foundation’s (EFF) Blogger’s FAQ. Which has an entire page devoted to Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act. While many sections of the CDA have been struck down as unconstitutional (partly as a result of the EFF), Section 230 remains as law. In brief it states:
The second aspect of bullying here is the tone of the email I received. “Whom may my lawyer contact” is a conversational gambit designed to put the recipient on the defensive. What ever happened to simply asking first, with an explanation, to have the offending comment thread removed? Trying to dictate the outcome you want, to an unknown party, using the thinly veiled threat of legal action is bullying. The emotional response I am experiencing is no different than what I would feel were I to be the subject of “defamatory web comments.”
I fear that in her quest to erase all record of what the she feels is “reckless falsity,” the party wanting my web site comment thread altered has reduced herself to the same level as the original author of the alleged falsity.
This weekend was the first truly mild weather we’ve had this year, and Sibylle was determined to get the plants back outside for the season. Saturday morning we started by moving the hibiscus, the geranium, and the fig tree back outside. We then spent some time preparing the flower beds along the south side of the townhouse, and the ones bordering the patio on the east side.
Saturday evening we visited the nearby Wal-Mart to get new flowers, and came home with some lavender, a cherry tomato plant, a rose bush, a flat of stock, another flat of petunias, and 160 pounds of potting soil. We planted most of the new stuff as soon as we arrived home.
Sunday the weather was even nicer than Saturday, and we spent the entire morning moving some sandstone rock to make a border along the south side flower bed. The rest of the new flowers were carefully planted, and by noon the flower bed was looking very good. With the day lilies Sibylle planted a week or so ago, and the pansies in the raised bed we made last summer, the patio and garden is shaping up beautifully this year.
The best part is sharing it each other. I’ve never had a garden of any kind before, so I am enjoying all the new aspects of this activity. Being able to be outside in the warm sunshine and fresh air is wonderful, sharing it with Sibylle make it all the more special.
There are any number of differences between working as a consultant and working as an employee. And there are some similarities. Today I ran across an unexpected similarity. The company I work for now, as an employee, has undergone significant growth in the past couple of years and they are going through all the growing pains you might expect as a result.
The group I joined in January 2007 no longer exists. The project we were slated to drive forward architecturally no longer exists. The manager, and my three peers, have all moved on to other opportunities. Since December I have been in a bit of a holding pattern, waiting for various reorganizations to be announced, so that I can make a decision between two divergent options.
I’ve continued to work in the architecture role on a new project while waiting to learn more about a potential new position, in a new group being formed as a result of the latest reorganization. Now that the group is public knowledge I can talk with its manager to determine if I have a role there and, moreover, if I want that role. The other alternative I’ve been weighing was described to me as “lead developer.” This position would have design responsibilities for a project as well as development responsibilities - picking up the requirements from business analysis and driving them through design, construction, and implementation.
What I didn’t realize until this morning, was that my current role, that of architect, is going away. I don’t have the option of passing on both opportunities. (Well, I suppose I have the option to leave the company entirely.) In the consulting world you spend a fair amount of time worrying about the contract; will it be renewed, what contract will follow this one? Today I rediscovered the anxiety of changing jobs within your employment. Today I’m an architect, tomorrow I’m a senior software engineer; today I’m a project leader, tomorrow I’m chief assistant to the assistant chief.
The emotions are roughly the same - anxiety, fear, uncertainty - for both. Losing ones contract (expectedly or unexpectedly) casts you adrift. Realizing that your career has come to a fork in the road (whether by your design or not) also casts you adrift. As a consultant I was cast adrift several times, often resulting in cross-country moves. As an employee in the 1980s and 1990s, I had various career changes within the same employment, that cast me adrift within the company.
My initial reaction this morning, upon realizing that staying in my current role wasn’t an option, was to feel cut adrift again. However, after reflecting for a while, I realized that in the past when I “had” to change roles within a company it always was good for me, and for my career. I’m adrift, but it is known waters, in sight of the shore. There is still some anxiety about which part of the shoreline to approach, but either will ultimately be good.
For the first time in several years, I am free of my cell phone contract. When I moved to Kansas in 2004, my cell phone was nearing the end of its two-year obligation. Without realizing the consequences (and without being told about them) I called Cingular and changed my phone number to the new area code. Turns out that this change added a full year to the contract.
I kept that phone for the additional year, and then some, before upgrading to a Sony-Ericsson W600i, which I still have today. The contract for the W600i ended yesterday. If my memory is correct, the phone without a contract would have been close to $400 new. The two-year contract cost me roughly $960, so I guess that makes my average monthly cost, for the past two years, approximately $23.30. ((960-400)/24)
The only phone available today that interests me is the Apple iPhone. However, I can’t justify the additional $20 a month the required data plan would cost, not to mention the $400 cost of the phone itself. The per-month cost would be over $76 ($400 for the phone + $60/month for two-years = $1840/24 = $~76.67), an amount nearly double what I am paying today.
So instead of rushing out and buying the latest gadget and committing myself to a higher phone bill, I’ll keep this phone for now, and celebrate not having a contract for a while.
After thirty-one years of getting paper paychecks or pay stubs, tomorrow will mark the first occasion of my receiving an electronic pay statement. My employer, in an effort to avoid paying the increased mass mailing postage rate, has decided to stop mailing associates, who use direct deposit, pay stubs. Over the course of a year they estimate this will save the company in the neighborhood of $80,000.
The online site, provided by ADP, allows me to view and or print my pay checks, and shows a handy list of this year’s activity by default. My employer has been generous in providing ample information about the switch, given us all a full month (two pay cycles) to get used to the idea. However, I still find the idea of not having an official, printed pay stub unnerving. Somewhere in a box I have years and years worth of old pay stubs, carefully clipped together by year. Yes, they are gathering dust, and yes, I probably won’t ever need to look at them again, but I have them. I can touch them. With the switch to electronic pay statements I lose the physicalness of my pay.
Now my pay is truly just a stream of digits electronically transmitted between my employer’s bank and my credit union. My purchases are increasingly all electronic as well, I can go weeks without any cash in my pockets, so I suppose it is fitting that the income is paperless now, too.
Still, I think we’ll be printing off the electronic statements and saving the paper copy in a drawer or a box for a while. Old dogs can (and do) learn new tricks, but just the ones they like.
This is the tale of buying a portable digital piano keyboard. The final decision involved two brick and mortar stores, hours of Internet research, several online retailers, and ultimately came down to customer service.
Bad Customer Service
Sibylle has wanted a good portable, digital piano keyboard for her studio for a while. A good keyboard with fully-weighted keys, and some MIDI software on a computer would give her some additional composition and teaching opportunities. She spent quite a bit of time researching options within her budget before venturing out to the piano store to get some expert advice, and a chance to play some of the models in which she was interested. As the piano store only had digital pianos, and Sibylle was wanting a portable keyboard, her friend there suggested that she visit a nearby Guitar Center location, as they carried a large selection of keyboards within her budget range.
The salesman at Guitar Center was extremely helpful, answering all of her questions thoughtfully and clearly. When her final selection turned out to be the one keyboard not left in their inventory, he offered to take 10% off the price for the demonstration unit. After a careful inspection revealed no blemishes, she agreed to his terms.
Unfortunately the salesman’s manager had a distinctly different idea about the discount available. Had the piano been purchased and then returned it would be an “open box item,” and would be eligible for a 10% discount. As a “floor model” it was only eligible for a 5% discount. The manager was unwilling to negotiate this point or the amount of the discount. In the end he lost the sale over $30. (That a so-called “open box” item would have its box, manual, and accessories and, moreover, only would have been handled by one family, whereas the “floor model” no longer had a box, its accessories, or manual, and had been exposed to anyone and everyone in the store for who knows how long, is the subject of another post.)
The manager was also unwilling to negotiate a trade off the $25 stand (which was included in the sale) for a $25 sustain pedal. Throughout the hour or so spent in the store we were constantly bombarded by the store’s overly loud rock guitar “in store radio station,” and had to wait several times while the salesman tried to find a box, or other accessories not with the floor model.
By the time the manager nixed the 10% discount it was all too much, and Sibylle walked away from the sale.
Good Customer Service
After returning home from the abortive attempt at Guitar Center, Sibylle found the same keyboard, for the same price, online at Musicians Buy. The model she was interested in came with a “free stand and set of headphones.” Preferring a good sustain pedal instead, Sibylle discovered the site offered one she like for $0.25 more than the original price of the stand and headphones. Musicians Buy’s online order form provided a field for notes. She was able to add a note saying that she wanted the digital piano but wanted to substitute the sustain pedal for the stand and headphones.
Today, a call to Musicians Buy confirmed that they were happy and willing to make the swap - for no additional charge. The call was immediately answered by a person, no “listen carefully our menu has changed” dance with the touch pad on the phone. The delivery is already in the Fed Ex system and is scheduled for next Wednesday.
The online purchase took but a few minutes, and was for exactly what Sibylle wanted. No obnoxious music, no waiting around for the salesman or manager, no objections to a substitution, and no confusion about the price. The contrast to the in-store experience could not have been more pronounced.
The Moral of the Story
By being unyielding about the differences between a “floor model” and an “open box item,” and by not acknowledging the time Sibylle had already spent in his store, the manager lost the sale. Whether or not a single lost sale will hurt his monthly revenue isn’t the point. His resistance to seeing the customer’s viewpoint and, in effect his refusal to spend $30, cost him the sale, and the good will and future recommendations Sibylle will now be making for Musicians Buy.
Investments aren’t always black and white, sometimes there are intangibles worth far more than the immediately visible dollars spent or saved. In a day and age when a few minutes online can get you outstanding, personal customer service, I am not sure that the brick and mortar stores can safely cling to an outdated “take it or leave it” attitude.
The townhouse where we live is near to a major rail corridor through town. The city newsletter this week informed us of a multi-million dollar project to make improvements to the eleven grade crossings inside the city that will allow them to petition the Federal government for a “quiet zone.” This would mean that the 80, yes eighty, trains a day traversing these tracks would no longer be required to sound their horn for each crossing.
Eleven crossings times three (or more) horn soundings per crossing times eighty trains a day is 2640 trains horns per day. Here’s to hoping the improvements occur quickly and that the exemption is granted.
Kansas City employs digital information signs on the Interstate highways that traverse and circumnavigate the city, which usually display travel times to major intersections or landmarks. Very useful for regular commuters making their daily trek to or from work. In the summertime these signs display information about ozone alerts, and, when necessary, there are Amber alerts or accident reports displayed. For the past two weeks a new message has graced several of the signs I go past on my daily commute. A message which reads
Downtown Kansas City is experiencing a bit of a renaissance culturally and otherwise. The city has poured a lot of money into the new Power and Light district, with the new Sprint Center as the centerpiece. New restaurants are opening, and all the old buildings, seemingly, are being converted into lofts.
Quick, what’s the image that comes to mind when you hear “lofts?” The place where Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze lived in Ghost, right? One large space with no partitions or walls. Me too. The problem is that isn’t what loft appears to mean in KC. Here, loft means “condominium where the walls don’t reach the ceiling and there’s brick, exposed duct work, and massively expensive parking.
Sibylle and I have toured two downtown lofts recently, and while we liked the first somewhat (didn’t care for the second at all), neither of us is ready to give up living in suburbia for a tony downtown address. Today’s example was, in a word, ugly. Except for reasonably close access to the new Power and Light district, it had nothing to make it appealing. When I asked the real estate agent, on the elevator up to the models, if these were lofts or condos, she insisted they were lofts. “The walls don’t go to the ceilings.”
I’m probably splitting hairs about this, but walls that don’t reach the ceiling do not a loft make.