I wrote this in the Summer of 2006. I recently saw "Granny" and decided to share this here....
As long as I can remember, we have always had a time for prayer requests at the church where I grew up, and still attend. This is especially true when we gather in small intimate groups like men’s meetings, women’s meetings and Sunday school class. Not only do I believe that prayer changes things, I also believe that sharing one another’s burdens is good for us all.
My wife is in charge of doing the count for worship services. She counts everyone in the sanctuary during the morning worship service on Sunday mornings, and if she is not through when the kids leave for children’s church, she will go out to count them after they settle in for their morning lesson.
A few weeks ago, she went out to count children’s church Sunday morning and she arrived just in time to hear the prayer requests. As you can probably imagine, prayer request time can be rather interesting when there are three and four year olds involved. One precious little boy said, “Pray for my Granny. She can’t dance.”
The teacher asked a clarifying question to be sure she understood. She did, of course. It was a dance problem, to be sure. She assured the little boy that this was important.
No one was sure if “Granny” had some kind of injury, Luke had overheard something from Granny or his parents, or he was making some observation based on his knowledge of dance. It does not really matter. It was important to Luke that they pray for his Granny.
I am often amazed at the faith of little children, not just faith, confidence. At what age do we lose this?
When we were five, we could dance. What kind of music, you ask? It didn’t matter. Just crank it up and we would be there. Now? Sure!
How about singing? Of course, we could do that too. We would provide our own words if we needed to.
Draw? Paint? Of course.
Prayer was just as easy, and our faith was boundless. We learned: "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep…” The next line I learned was “If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord, my soul to take.” My wife thought that that was harsh, so our girls learned: “angels guard me through the night, and keep me safe till morning light.” (I do like that…)
We also learned, “God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food; by his hand, we are fed, thank you Lord for daily bread. Amen.”
When we could pray our own prayer, it sounded more like:
“God, this is Billy. Thanks for the meatloaf and the mashed potatoes.”
“Mama, do I have to thank him for the squash?”
“Yes, Billy thank him for the squash.”
“I thank you for the squash, but not as much as for the fried okra, sliced tomatoes and blackberry cobbler.”
“Mama, that is blackberry cobbler, ain’t it.”
“Don’t say ain’t and yes it is blackberry cobbler.”
“…and the sweet tea. God, Mr. J.B. up the road said that you needed to send some rain or there ain’t gonna be no corn this year on Chicken Road ‘cause it’ll all burn up. If you let it rain, let it rain tomorrow morning so I won’t hafta pick butterbeans. ThankyaJesusamen."
If we didn’t understand something, we’d ask, no problem. In Stuart Hample’s book “Children’s letters to God”, a little person named Jane wrote, “God, in Sunday School, they told us what you do. Who does it when you are on vacation?”
On a recent weekend, I was at a church function; I came face-to-face with Luke’s Granny, and took the opportunity to ask her, “Marilyn, can you dance?”
She replied, “Sure I can. Do you want to dance?”
Thank you Jesus, it’s an answer to prayer, no doubt about it!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
"Biscuit" eggs on my Muffin
After writing about long distance customer service I have had a couple of memorable face-to-face customer service experiences that made me shake my head. This morning, I drove through the “breakfast on the go” spot in my hometown. Since they were advertising a special on their sausage, egg and cheese muffins, I wheeled in to pick up a couple.
The voice in the box says, “Welcome! Would you to try our warm cereal in a cup?”
I spoke directly into the box, “No thank you. I’d like two sausage, egg and cheese muffins, please.”
The voice in the box says, “Um, I’m sorry. But those eggs that we put on the muffins, um, we’re out of those. All we have is the eggs like we put on the biscuits.”
I thanked him and drove away thinking, I had no idea that they were completely different eggs! At my house, we use eggs in the little yellow Styrofoam carton for everything. In fact, on a typical day, the eggs in the morning omelet probably sat RIGHT NEXT to the egg that ended up in the brownies cooked later in the day. Of course, I’d never admit this to Mr. “voice in the box” at the drive-thru. He might have a breakdown.
Just a half hours later, in a different town and a different drive-thru, I heard the lady in the car in front of me speak loudly and incredulously to the box, “Coffee! I just want coffee.”
The voice in the box says, “I can do Pepsi. We just have Pepsi products!”
Exasperated woman, with protruding veins in her neck, “You don’t have coffee? A breakfast place and you don’t have coffee?’
Voice in the box says, “Pepsi, diet Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Orange, you know, any Pepsi products. We just have Pepsi products.”
Miss “protruding veins” drove off in a huff. No coffee; no breakfast; nothing but high blood pressure and a bad attitude. I really hope she got to where she was going without a stroke.
It made me think of the great attitude my great uncle Sylvester had. I don’t really remember him. If I ever met him, it couldn’t have been more than once, and that would have been when I was really young. Uncle Sylvester and Aunt Eunice live in a pretty large town. Their daughter, Alma and her husband worked for years in her husband’s family’s bakery. My brother tells the story of visiting Uncle Sylvester and Aunt Eunice once. Just at mealtime, Alma brought in a pie from the bakery that was slightly overcooked. She was all apologetic.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry that the pie is burnt,” she said.
“Nonsense,” Uncle Sylvester said. “It is just right! If it was any blacker, we couldn’t eat it. But if it was any lighter, we wouldn’t have gotten it. Yes, it is just right.”
So I guess I should have just had the “biscuit eggs” on my muffin this morning and been happy about it….
The voice in the box says, “Welcome! Would you to try our warm cereal in a cup?”
I spoke directly into the box, “No thank you. I’d like two sausage, egg and cheese muffins, please.”
The voice in the box says, “Um, I’m sorry. But those eggs that we put on the muffins, um, we’re out of those. All we have is the eggs like we put on the biscuits.”
I thanked him and drove away thinking, I had no idea that they were completely different eggs! At my house, we use eggs in the little yellow Styrofoam carton for everything. In fact, on a typical day, the eggs in the morning omelet probably sat RIGHT NEXT to the egg that ended up in the brownies cooked later in the day. Of course, I’d never admit this to Mr. “voice in the box” at the drive-thru. He might have a breakdown.
Just a half hours later, in a different town and a different drive-thru, I heard the lady in the car in front of me speak loudly and incredulously to the box, “Coffee! I just want coffee.”
The voice in the box says, “I can do Pepsi. We just have Pepsi products!”
Exasperated woman, with protruding veins in her neck, “You don’t have coffee? A breakfast place and you don’t have coffee?’
Voice in the box says, “Pepsi, diet Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Orange, you know, any Pepsi products. We just have Pepsi products.”
Miss “protruding veins” drove off in a huff. No coffee; no breakfast; nothing but high blood pressure and a bad attitude. I really hope she got to where she was going without a stroke.
It made me think of the great attitude my great uncle Sylvester had. I don’t really remember him. If I ever met him, it couldn’t have been more than once, and that would have been when I was really young. Uncle Sylvester and Aunt Eunice live in a pretty large town. Their daughter, Alma and her husband worked for years in her husband’s family’s bakery. My brother tells the story of visiting Uncle Sylvester and Aunt Eunice once. Just at mealtime, Alma brought in a pie from the bakery that was slightly overcooked. She was all apologetic.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry that the pie is burnt,” she said.
“Nonsense,” Uncle Sylvester said. “It is just right! If it was any blacker, we couldn’t eat it. But if it was any lighter, we wouldn’t have gotten it. Yes, it is just right.”
So I guess I should have just had the “biscuit eggs” on my muffin this morning and been happy about it….
Monday, February 14, 2011
Customer Service
I had to call customer service today to get a replacement credit card. Although I was dreading the call, it went well. I didn't wait a long time to talk to someone. Brad was very helpful. He understood my English and I understood his. I checked the calendar to be sure it was 2011 and not 1968. I had to go back and find something I wrote down several years ago to share. Please note that business names have been changed, where appropriate, to protect the innocent.
If you have a problem or question, please call our friendly customer service at 1-800-376-7333 (800 DROP DED). If you have ever had a problem with a product or service, you know that the adventure is only beginning when the problem is identified.
I have often wondered how companies decide what the hours of operation are going to be for their customer service department. My very first experience in this area was when I bought a new gas grill at Floormart several (many) years ago. Right on the assembly instruction booklet it said, “If you have questions or missing parts, do not contact the retailer where you purchased this item. Please call our customer service department at 1800 NO HELP, (or something like that) Monday thru Friday 8AM-5PM EST.” my immediate question was why aren’t they open evenings and weekends when I am at home, trying to put this thing together? When I finally got them, they were friendly, spoke understandable English, and had to send me my replacement glass piece only twice before I received it all in one piece!
A lot of companies have moved their customer service overseas. This may actually help with the time issue, but my people sometimes have problems understanding people from Atlanta, so India is a completely new paradigm for us. The only time I have ever had a real language barrier with someone in customer service, I finally asked her where she was.
“New Jersey,” she said.
Uh oh!
Living in a small town leads to its own set of customer service experiences. For years my Internet Service Provider (ISP) was a small, privately owned telephone company from a nearby town. A few years ago, they were bought out by a national company. To protect the innocent, and for other legal reasons, I will refer to this national company as Breezecreek.
Soon after they acquired my ISP, I got a nice email from their customer service department explaining some of the enhancements that they were going to roll out in the coming months. I was excited. Three months later, I got a nice email explaining that as of 1 April, they would be discontinuing ISP service to my area. This brought the concept of enhancement to a completely new level. This was one bit of advertising that was exactly as advertised. It died right on schedule.
What Breezecreek failed to tell me was the fact that they planned on continuing to bill my credit card AFTER 1 April. This is a wonderful business model if your customers don’t look at their bill. I did. As soon as I noticed this, I immediately called the number listed RIGHT ON MY BILL. After hearing several minutes of infomercials on what great products they had to offer, and how my business was SO important to them, I finally talked to Marie. She was courteous as could be and it only took about ten minutes (and several infomercials on hold) to figure out that I needed to talk to an entirely different toll-free number.
Lisa (at the new number) assured me that it was all taken care of. Great! Breezecreek only billed my credit card two more times before I finally got it cleared up.
In the late 60’s I worked at Homer Garrett’s Grocery in Hawkinsville GA. People like Ms Barker would call and tell me exactly what she wanted, (a quart of milk, a half-pound of good lean ground beef, three potatoes, not too big, a can of Green Giant green beans, etc.) and to bring change for a five. She would say when I was to deliver it too.
I would always be sure to include several dimes in her change because I knew she wouldn’t spend them. (She saved dimes for Christmas gifts for her grandchildren.) She’d complain by saying, “Billy, you know I’m on a fixed income, bringing me all these dimes. I declare, I won’t be able to eat the last week of this month.”
No, 40+ years ago you didn’t have to get abused in broken English by customer service via a bad phone connection to Pakistan. It could be delivered right to your kitchen table by a teenager with a bad case of acne.
If you have a problem or question, please call our friendly customer service at 1-800-376-7333 (800 DROP DED). If you have ever had a problem with a product or service, you know that the adventure is only beginning when the problem is identified.
I have often wondered how companies decide what the hours of operation are going to be for their customer service department. My very first experience in this area was when I bought a new gas grill at Floormart several (many) years ago. Right on the assembly instruction booklet it said, “If you have questions or missing parts, do not contact the retailer where you purchased this item. Please call our customer service department at 1800 NO HELP, (or something like that) Monday thru Friday 8AM-5PM EST.” my immediate question was why aren’t they open evenings and weekends when I am at home, trying to put this thing together? When I finally got them, they were friendly, spoke understandable English, and had to send me my replacement glass piece only twice before I received it all in one piece!
A lot of companies have moved their customer service overseas. This may actually help with the time issue, but my people sometimes have problems understanding people from Atlanta, so India is a completely new paradigm for us. The only time I have ever had a real language barrier with someone in customer service, I finally asked her where she was.
“New Jersey,” she said.
Uh oh!
Living in a small town leads to its own set of customer service experiences. For years my Internet Service Provider (ISP) was a small, privately owned telephone company from a nearby town. A few years ago, they were bought out by a national company. To protect the innocent, and for other legal reasons, I will refer to this national company as Breezecreek.
Soon after they acquired my ISP, I got a nice email from their customer service department explaining some of the enhancements that they were going to roll out in the coming months. I was excited. Three months later, I got a nice email explaining that as of 1 April, they would be discontinuing ISP service to my area. This brought the concept of enhancement to a completely new level. This was one bit of advertising that was exactly as advertised. It died right on schedule.
What Breezecreek failed to tell me was the fact that they planned on continuing to bill my credit card AFTER 1 April. This is a wonderful business model if your customers don’t look at their bill. I did. As soon as I noticed this, I immediately called the number listed RIGHT ON MY BILL. After hearing several minutes of infomercials on what great products they had to offer, and how my business was SO important to them, I finally talked to Marie. She was courteous as could be and it only took about ten minutes (and several infomercials on hold) to figure out that I needed to talk to an entirely different toll-free number.
Lisa (at the new number) assured me that it was all taken care of. Great! Breezecreek only billed my credit card two more times before I finally got it cleared up.
In the late 60’s I worked at Homer Garrett’s Grocery in Hawkinsville GA. People like Ms Barker would call and tell me exactly what she wanted, (a quart of milk, a half-pound of good lean ground beef, three potatoes, not too big, a can of Green Giant green beans, etc.) and to bring change for a five. She would say when I was to deliver it too.
I would always be sure to include several dimes in her change because I knew she wouldn’t spend them. (She saved dimes for Christmas gifts for her grandchildren.) She’d complain by saying, “Billy, you know I’m on a fixed income, bringing me all these dimes. I declare, I won’t be able to eat the last week of this month.”
No, 40+ years ago you didn’t have to get abused in broken English by customer service via a bad phone connection to Pakistan. It could be delivered right to your kitchen table by a teenager with a bad case of acne.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Winter Funk
For those of you that I haven’t communicated with since last year, I wish a belated Happy New Year to you all! I hope that you had a fine time during the holidays and was able to spend some time with those you love. Now it is time to hang that new calendar and drag out that list of stuff that you were planning to get to “next year.” As I have said recently, I was not built for cold weather. It has been an ugly couple of weeks on Chicken Road. This past weekend was much better, but yesterday and today is more like a beautiful spring day in Moscow than Late January or early February in South Georgia.
The holiday season can be a hard time for some people. With all the emphasis on family togetherness, the holidays can remind many of the loved ones and friends who are no longer with them. Other people make it through the holidays just fine, but have a post holiday letdown. Short days, no big gatherings to look forward to, back to work, and lastly those holiday bills begin pouring in. YUCK! We all develop our personal ways of dealing with these winter blahs. I have found that post-holiday mail can actually HELP. I’m not talking about those nice letters from “Publisher’s Clearinghouse”. I’m talking catalogs! Although the internet has certainly reduced the demand for them, Catalogs, especially seed catalogs, can brighten up a pretty dreary existence. The most memorable one came about ten years ago. Although it was not about seeds, it just brightened my day. Actually, it brightened several days and nights. (I don’t know what happened to these people since this was the only one I ever received from them.) It was so good that I made notes:
It featured a nice lamp with a river birch bark shade. Not just ANY river birch bark, but “bark that has fallen naturally onto the forest floor.” I can’t remember the price, but the description made you think that it just might be a bargain! (and you were removing the birch bark litter from the forest floor too!)
I have a couple of other examples that are quotable:
“Smooth river stones, wrapped by Philippine artisan with tilot vine to create a marvelous contrast of color and texture. (stones are approximately 2-3”) set of 10 wrapped stones $55.” (I’ve looked it up. I still don’t know what “tilot vine” looks like. My computer just thinks it’s a misspelled word. Google couldn’t find it either, but suggested “toilet wine.” I was not brave enough to click on that!)
“ETERNAL BIRDS NEST: Chunks of concrete and rusted wire retrieved from demolition rubble are recreated into an endearing little nest to cradle small smooth egg shaped stones plucked from a river bed...........each will vary slightly. Approximately 6” high. $79.”
And my favorite:
“FLYING FISH PIN: Cleverly assembled from recycled parts of vintage watches, this winged fish dangles a plump heart charm, handmade of brass by a Florida jeweler with a sense of humor; $39” (If they just had it in a tie tack.)
How could anyone read that and not smile just a little, especially knowing the writer is serious and in most cases, show you a picture of the product.
Put another log on the fire and pass me another catalog. I think that I’ll whip this winter funk yet!
The holiday season can be a hard time for some people. With all the emphasis on family togetherness, the holidays can remind many of the loved ones and friends who are no longer with them. Other people make it through the holidays just fine, but have a post holiday letdown. Short days, no big gatherings to look forward to, back to work, and lastly those holiday bills begin pouring in. YUCK! We all develop our personal ways of dealing with these winter blahs. I have found that post-holiday mail can actually HELP. I’m not talking about those nice letters from “Publisher’s Clearinghouse”. I’m talking catalogs! Although the internet has certainly reduced the demand for them, Catalogs, especially seed catalogs, can brighten up a pretty dreary existence. The most memorable one came about ten years ago. Although it was not about seeds, it just brightened my day. Actually, it brightened several days and nights. (I don’t know what happened to these people since this was the only one I ever received from them.) It was so good that I made notes:
It featured a nice lamp with a river birch bark shade. Not just ANY river birch bark, but “bark that has fallen naturally onto the forest floor.” I can’t remember the price, but the description made you think that it just might be a bargain! (and you were removing the birch bark litter from the forest floor too!)
I have a couple of other examples that are quotable:
“Smooth river stones, wrapped by Philippine artisan with tilot vine to create a marvelous contrast of color and texture. (stones are approximately 2-3”) set of 10 wrapped stones $55.” (I’ve looked it up. I still don’t know what “tilot vine” looks like. My computer just thinks it’s a misspelled word. Google couldn’t find it either, but suggested “toilet wine.” I was not brave enough to click on that!)
“ETERNAL BIRDS NEST: Chunks of concrete and rusted wire retrieved from demolition rubble are recreated into an endearing little nest to cradle small smooth egg shaped stones plucked from a river bed...........each will vary slightly. Approximately 6” high. $79.”
And my favorite:
“FLYING FISH PIN: Cleverly assembled from recycled parts of vintage watches, this winged fish dangles a plump heart charm, handmade of brass by a Florida jeweler with a sense of humor; $39” (If they just had it in a tie tack.)
How could anyone read that and not smile just a little, especially knowing the writer is serious and in most cases, show you a picture of the product.
Put another log on the fire and pass me another catalog. I think that I’ll whip this winter funk yet!
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