How Can Gold's Change Your Life Today? Improving Customer Service At A Gym Near You
I've paid my membership fee every month to one gym or another for years - and none of them have ever asked me if I was happy. If asked, I'd offer these improvement ideas...
Don't just email me ads for merchandise. Publish an email newsletter with workout tips, science-based exercise physiology pieces, nutrition ideas, motivation tactics.
Turn members into personal training clients by offering training at reduced prices. Heck, offer longtime members one free personal training session a month. During off hours. My gym's empty at 10am, 3pm, and it may even be empty at 9pm.
Feature member training goals, stories, aspirations on your Web site. Start a blog if you need to. Gold's tried something like this - they asked me to write up a testimonial for their "Wall of Fame." That was over a year ago. It's still not up.
Show personal training clients how much you care by arranging personal appearances by local fitness guru, bodybuilder, athlete or sports figures. Gold's tried this too - they recently ran a nationwide contest for members to win a training session with John Cena. Who won? Search me. I never received an email, and there's nothing on their Web site.
Don't offer me discounts on clothing. Use me as a billboard. Set me up with a couple of t-shirts, or a cool gym bag, or a baseball cap. Something that fits. Gold's gave me a t-shirt when I joined. XL. Although they could see I'm a M.
Greet me at the front desk and say "so long, thanks for working out!" when I leave. Front desk staff are the velvet rope people - and your members are the rock stars. Don't let the front desk staff become the Maginot Line. And resist the urge to conduct staff meetings there.
If staff is "on the floor" (i.e., anywhere they can be seen by members), then they should act accordingly. I've seen too many staff at too many gyms sitting in front of computer screens, doing who knows what. At Bally's once, I took a weight off a bench press bar and leaned it against the bench itself, since the rack was all the way across the room and I was going to use the weight again. "We don't lean weights against the machines," a staff person told me. No, I thought, we just stand around being annoying.
Pay attention to what equipment gets used, and what doesn't. Why do all gyms have racks of 100, 200, and 300 lb dumbells? Do the weight manufacturers sell sets and require you to buy what you really don't need? Have you ever seen anyone use these monster weights? Just think what you could put there instead - more useful dumbells, or another flat bench. It might help this kind of thing from happening.
If you're a chain, make it simple for a member in one city to work out at your gym in another city. We don't care if you're wholly owned and operated, or a name-only franchise with its own membership rules. If you're name's on the door, it's your's. I'm still not happy with the way I was treated in Fort Lauderdale earlier this year.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
I'm Not the Only One Who Hates the Bland Health People
Donor Power Blog has this to add about the wonderful world of stock photos. It's the land where the Bland Health People come from, and I fight the urge to bellow "NO WAY!" every time someone says to me "I think we need pictures of smiling children on our Web site." And I thought I was the only one who has these feelings.
Donor Power Blog has this to add about the wonderful world of stock photos. It's the land where the Bland Health People come from, and I fight the urge to bellow "NO WAY!" every time someone says to me "I think we need pictures of smiling children on our Web site." And I thought I was the only one who has these feelings.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
My High Points of 2006
Receiving an award from a national nonprofit organization.
Getting a great new Executive Director at work.
Personal training with PD, Squatmeister, and D-Man.
Charo!
Tinea corporis departs in time for the cruise.
The beer once I reached my hotel in Little Rock.
The return to size 30 waist jeans.
Finding Classical Online Radio in the USA.
Athens!
Barcelona!
Cannes!
Cozumel!
Grand Cayman!
Hispaniola!
Mykonos!
Rhodes!
Rome!
Santorini!
Reho and Fort Lauderdale!
Receiving an award from a national nonprofit organization.
Getting a great new Executive Director at work.
Personal training with PD, Squatmeister, and D-Man.
Charo!
Tinea corporis departs in time for the cruise.
The beer once I reached my hotel in Little Rock.
The return to size 30 waist jeans.
Finding Classical Online Radio in the USA.
Athens!
Barcelona!
Cannes!
Cozumel!
Grand Cayman!
Hispaniola!
Mykonos!
Rhodes!
Rome!
Santorini!
Reho and Fort Lauderdale!
Friday, December 29, 2006
Living in DC
December 23. Dupont Circle.
After my soap-buying excursion to Pentagon City, I decided to try and fix a Christmas Gift Problem I was having. And it occurred to me that Beadazzled, a store I never enter, might be able to help me out. Back in August, I bought my nephews some cool lanyards with silver axes and bulls from a shop in Santorini. “On the rim of an extinct volcano, near the fabled Lost City of Atlantis” I would tell them when they would inevitably look at me, puzzled, when they opened the gift. But on this day, when I took them out to look at them, I noticed the string portion was way too short – it wouldn’t fit over anyone’s head. There were two strings on each, which held copper beads and the silver axes or bull’s heads. At first I thought I would have to buy some longer cord and re-string them myself. Until I walked into Beadazzled.
The sales associate behind the counter took one look at them and said “Oh, these are easy to make longer. All you have to do is take each of these knots and pull…”
And somehow, the strings expanded. “Now they’ll fit!” he said.
“You don’t know how long I was tormented by this today,” I laughed. “You’ve definitely done your Christmas Good Deed!”
He laughed as handed me the lanyards, and said, “and you didn’t even have to spend any money!”
Note: the nephews actually liked the lanyards. Still, I included $25 with each. You can never be too careful.
December 23. Dupont Circle.
After my soap-buying excursion to Pentagon City, I decided to try and fix a Christmas Gift Problem I was having. And it occurred to me that Beadazzled, a store I never enter, might be able to help me out. Back in August, I bought my nephews some cool lanyards with silver axes and bulls from a shop in Santorini. “On the rim of an extinct volcano, near the fabled Lost City of Atlantis” I would tell them when they would inevitably look at me, puzzled, when they opened the gift. But on this day, when I took them out to look at them, I noticed the string portion was way too short – it wouldn’t fit over anyone’s head. There were two strings on each, which held copper beads and the silver axes or bull’s heads. At first I thought I would have to buy some longer cord and re-string them myself. Until I walked into Beadazzled.
The sales associate behind the counter took one look at them and said “Oh, these are easy to make longer. All you have to do is take each of these knots and pull…”
And somehow, the strings expanded. “Now they’ll fit!” he said.
“You don’t know how long I was tormented by this today,” I laughed. “You’ve definitely done your Christmas Good Deed!”
He laughed as handed me the lanyards, and said, “and you didn’t even have to spend any money!”
Note: the nephews actually liked the lanyards. Still, I included $25 with each. You can never be too careful.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Living in DC
Pentagon City, December 23. Purchasing soap at The Body Shop. One customer in front of me, attempting to contribute a gift certificate or a special percentage deal into her purchase. One “sales associate” at the checkout register. From the associate, a number of comments, the full text of which is unimportant. But the first words of each quote are:
“You need to…”
“You can’t use this…”
“You have to…”
“You don’t want to…”
This goes on for 15 seconds or so (which equals 5 minutes in store-waiting time). Then, a second “sales associate” steps in behind the next register, and joins in the explanation:
“What you need to know is…”
“She’s saying you have to go and pick out…”
“You have to buy $25 dollars worth of…”
We’re up to 30 seconds of this now (which equals 5.3 hours in store waiting time). I take control of my situation and hold out my debit card to this second associate. She looks at it, then takes it from me.
“Sorry,” she says.
I’m surprised the customer in front of me lasted as long as she did, with patience no less. I’m not too amazed that the sale went on and was made. As I walked out of the mall (with my soap), I thought of years ago, when I worked for a short time in retail. It was pretty miserable. The public can be so psychotic. You’re on your feet until your toes are numb. If it’s busy the line never ends. If it’s slow you have to straighten things up so that customers can knock them over once again. Definitely not an activity that’s going to play into the top of Maslow’s hierarchy.
Then I considered why companies allow their front lines to behave this way. I came up with:
1. These jobs are usually short-term, minimum wage.
2. The company handbook could be too thick, with too many rules and regulations governing what you wear and how the displays should look.
3. No training (or minimal, or ineffective) on “How To Greet The Customer Without Shutting Them Down Completely” and “How To Get The Customer To Do What You Want While Making It Seem That It’s Their Doing All Along.”
Basically, a mix of the dozen or so habits of highly effective people, the Tao Te Ching, and indicating with an open palm is what’s called for. But it was a couple of days before Christmas, and the mall was packed with people who weren’t shopping so much as needing a place to be with other people – more on that later, perhaps. And I’m sure those employees were turning off their brains, hoping that would make the time go by faster.
Pentagon City, December 23. Purchasing soap at The Body Shop. One customer in front of me, attempting to contribute a gift certificate or a special percentage deal into her purchase. One “sales associate” at the checkout register. From the associate, a number of comments, the full text of which is unimportant. But the first words of each quote are:
“You need to…”
“You can’t use this…”
“You have to…”
“You don’t want to…”
This goes on for 15 seconds or so (which equals 5 minutes in store-waiting time). Then, a second “sales associate” steps in behind the next register, and joins in the explanation:
“What you need to know is…”
“She’s saying you have to go and pick out…”
“You have to buy $25 dollars worth of…”
We’re up to 30 seconds of this now (which equals 5.3 hours in store waiting time). I take control of my situation and hold out my debit card to this second associate. She looks at it, then takes it from me.
“Sorry,” she says.
I’m surprised the customer in front of me lasted as long as she did, with patience no less. I’m not too amazed that the sale went on and was made. As I walked out of the mall (with my soap), I thought of years ago, when I worked for a short time in retail. It was pretty miserable. The public can be so psychotic. You’re on your feet until your toes are numb. If it’s busy the line never ends. If it’s slow you have to straighten things up so that customers can knock them over once again. Definitely not an activity that’s going to play into the top of Maslow’s hierarchy.
Then I considered why companies allow their front lines to behave this way. I came up with:
1. These jobs are usually short-term, minimum wage.
2. The company handbook could be too thick, with too many rules and regulations governing what you wear and how the displays should look.
3. No training (or minimal, or ineffective) on “How To Greet The Customer Without Shutting Them Down Completely” and “How To Get The Customer To Do What You Want While Making It Seem That It’s Their Doing All Along.”
Basically, a mix of the dozen or so habits of highly effective people, the Tao Te Ching, and indicating with an open palm is what’s called for. But it was a couple of days before Christmas, and the mall was packed with people who weren’t shopping so much as needing a place to be with other people – more on that later, perhaps. And I’m sure those employees were turning off their brains, hoping that would make the time go by faster.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
More on Christmas DecayYesterday's post, about the Big Letdown After Christmas (and comparing it to the half-life of an extremely unstable atom) got me to thinking about what it was like for me, as a kid, the days after Christmas. I mainly remember being absolutely, totally bored, since there was no school, it was usually cold out, I was sick of my family and the gifts I received were either already built (car and monster models), read (books), listened to until new grooves were worn (vinyl), or eaten (candy, etc.) The tree in the living room suddenly became the Relative That Wouldn't Depart, its glass ornaments and lights somehow reminiscent of a tacky Vegas side street. My parents, who came of age during WWII (The Big One), were used to a certain level of drudgery, and so when December 26 dawned, all festivities were over. I don't remember doing anything that could have prolonged the celebration of the season, and New Year's Eve usually found me sick from a cold or an ear infection.
Sometimes it snowed, which meant sledding, which was fun - except with packed snow got past your mittens and lodged on the underside of your wrist, which got really really cold. We never went anywhere warm during the winter, but we did go skiing for a number of years, which was also fun. Mainly, though, the departure of Christmas meant at least three months of frigid temperatures, various illnesses, steady darkness, and a creeping exhaustion from too much December activity and empty calories.
This year, one of my nephews said, in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve, "This is the longest day of the year!" His dad (one of my brothers) and I told him all about Christmas 1965, emphasizing and exaggerating various deprivations we experienced (black and white TV, 4 TV stations, no seating at McDonald's, unsharpened pencils in our stockings, zero X-NintendoBox.) We told him how great he's got it, and said we could celebrate Christmas 1965 next year. But my nephew's heard this all before about other things in our past (which I take as my duty to tell him) and is unimpressed. Although I do think he's somewhat concerned we might actually show him what it was like Way Back When.
Things have definitely improved now. While I get 99% less presents on Christmas morning, I have options to survive the winter: Atlantis cruises, Fort Lauderdale, alcohol, money. Still, I think my nephews experience some of the letdown at this time of the year that I experienced. And I don't know if that's good or bad.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Half-Life of the Christmas Atom
If Christmas were on the Periodic Table of the Elements, I'm sure it would have an atomic weight somewhere past Uranium. The element is so unstable that it decays to a fraction of its weight in 1/2512 of a second. Check out this post from The Ripple Effect to see what I mean.
We need to do something about this holiday, which bombards us with all manner of exhortations to purchase, acquire and buy, and sells us on a vision of family and togetherness which is either unattainable by many households or makes others feel left out in the cold when it doesn't coincide with their belief systems. I don't know what to do exactly with this blend ritual and tradition begun over 2000 years ago. But something has to be done.
This year, three television ads drove the point home. They're probably the worst, most egregiously sentimental and ear-splittingly awful commercials ever to air on television:
1. Neighbors gather across street to see woman receive gift car with big red bow on top. I'm having trouble locating this online. But maybe it's better that way. I don't remember what car company it's for. I do know that every time I see this ad I wonder "why the hell would neighbors set up lawn chairs merely to watch somebody walk out their door to see a new car?"
2. Celene Dion Under Your Christmas Tree. This one is wrong on so many levels. Hear's one: I keep hearing, after the commercial's over, the dad say to the son "she's your Christmas present boy - have at her!"
3. BMW's screaming child. Corporate groupthink's finest hour. Who at BMW approved this? Does he or she still have a job? There's a new version airing now, the voiceover almost completely covering that heinous child's "enthusiasm." But it's too late. The damage has been done.
Oh the pain. The pain.
If Christmas were on the Periodic Table of the Elements, I'm sure it would have an atomic weight somewhere past Uranium. The element is so unstable that it decays to a fraction of its weight in 1/2512 of a second. Check out this post from The Ripple Effect to see what I mean.
We need to do something about this holiday, which bombards us with all manner of exhortations to purchase, acquire and buy, and sells us on a vision of family and togetherness which is either unattainable by many households or makes others feel left out in the cold when it doesn't coincide with their belief systems. I don't know what to do exactly with this blend ritual and tradition begun over 2000 years ago. But something has to be done.
This year, three television ads drove the point home. They're probably the worst, most egregiously sentimental and ear-splittingly awful commercials ever to air on television:
1. Neighbors gather across street to see woman receive gift car with big red bow on top. I'm having trouble locating this online. But maybe it's better that way. I don't remember what car company it's for. I do know that every time I see this ad I wonder "why the hell would neighbors set up lawn chairs merely to watch somebody walk out their door to see a new car?"
2. Celene Dion Under Your Christmas Tree. This one is wrong on so many levels. Hear's one: I keep hearing, after the commercial's over, the dad say to the son "she's your Christmas present boy - have at her!"
3. BMW's screaming child. Corporate groupthink's finest hour. Who at BMW approved this? Does he or she still have a job? There's a new version airing now, the voiceover almost completely covering that heinous child's "enthusiasm." But it's too late. The damage has been done.
Oh the pain. The pain.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I Finally Get That Flu Shot
I get that flu shot - and then I came down with the Mini-Flu. Fever, aches, massive sinus congestion... I thought "at least it didn't get into my chest" and then, it went into my chest. Coughing. The whole thing. I googled "Cold vs. Flu" and found out the main difference between the two: with a cold, you have massive head congestion. So, while I didn't feel like I was going to die, I did feel pretty lousy. I could get out to the store allright. But when I get sick, at any level, my desire to create goes right down the tubes. I'm still fighting congestion at this point, but I am getting better, and I'm sitting here writing this. But for a clue as to how sick I did feel, consider this: on Sunday, I watched all 12 hours of the Lord of the Rings on TNT. From noon to midnight. And it was pretty entertaining. I watched "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" tonight on CBS, and it was, as always, a moving and sublime experience. Up there with the Mahler 2nd Symphony last night on PBS.
I get that flu shot - and then I came down with the Mini-Flu. Fever, aches, massive sinus congestion... I thought "at least it didn't get into my chest" and then, it went into my chest. Coughing. The whole thing. I googled "Cold vs. Flu" and found out the main difference between the two: with a cold, you have massive head congestion. So, while I didn't feel like I was going to die, I did feel pretty lousy. I could get out to the store allright. But when I get sick, at any level, my desire to create goes right down the tubes. I'm still fighting congestion at this point, but I am getting better, and I'm sitting here writing this. But for a clue as to how sick I did feel, consider this: on Sunday, I watched all 12 hours of the Lord of the Rings on TNT. From noon to midnight. And it was pretty entertaining. I watched "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" tonight on CBS, and it was, as always, a moving and sublime experience. Up there with the Mahler 2nd Symphony last night on PBS.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Now That's Real Viral Marketing
Royal Caribbean's Freedom of the Seas (the big boat slated to ferry January 2007's Biggest Gay Cruise in History to sun, surf and sand) just experienced an outbreak of Norovirus. I'm guessing Atlantis will be working extra with Royal Caribbean to make sure an outbreak doesn't occur on our cruise. But just in case they aren't, here are some resources to help everyone's upcoming experience a happy one... and it seems that one of the best ways to keep the microbial spiky golfball from spreading and/or not catch it goes way back to our earliest years - see the "Ounce of Prevention" brochure below...
St. Petersburg Times article "Viruses Board with Passengers"
CDC's FAQ on enteroviruses
CDC's "Ounce of Prevention Brochure"
Royal Caribbean's Freedom of the Seas (the big boat slated to ferry January 2007's Biggest Gay Cruise in History to sun, surf and sand) just experienced an outbreak of Norovirus. I'm guessing Atlantis will be working extra with Royal Caribbean to make sure an outbreak doesn't occur on our cruise. But just in case they aren't, here are some resources to help everyone's upcoming experience a happy one... and it seems that one of the best ways to keep the microbial spiky golfball from spreading and/or not catch it goes way back to our earliest years - see the "Ounce of Prevention" brochure below...
St. Petersburg Times article "Viruses Board with Passengers"
CDC's FAQ on enteroviruses
CDC's "Ounce of Prevention Brochure"
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Ahoy
Been reading all about Citizen Marketers, Viral Marketing, Word of Mouth Marketing - and I've been wondering: what brand/product/company am I so passionate about that I go out of my way to promote? I looked over a previous post in which I listed a bunch of brands in my life and see only one that's turned me into a blathering WOMM -bat.
Atlantis.
As in Atlantis Events.
Some background. For years, friends would go to Provincetown and return with suitcases full of good things to say about the destination at the end of Cape Cod, almost likening it to a gay Disneyland. Friendly people, tons of guys, a whole different world, lots of fun. And so, a couple of years ago, I went there. It was quaint. I bought some clothes. The beach was huge. The Boatslip made these awesome Planter's Punches with 151 poured down the straw - you got blitzed just holding the cup. I ran into a board member from work. Somewhat inebriated, I chatted with John Waters. And I had... just an ok time. We had two days of cold rain. All the bars had cover charges. They closed at 2am. The people? Just kind of friendly.
Last year, I went on my first Atlantis cruise. The Eastern Caribbean, in January. Two nights out, I start throwing up. I collapse. My cabin mate somehow gets me to the infirmary. The doctor sticks IVs in my arms. I'm yelling because I'm in so much pain. Drugs drip in, along with saline. It hurts. I spend the night down there, on deck one, drifting in and out of lucidity. Blanketed, shivering, I pass out into very strange dreams. And it didn't stop there - diagnosed with a stomach virus and severe dehydration, I'm quarantined for three days. I wasn't until the day quarantine lifted that I started feeling better.
I flew home afterward and immediately signed up for the same cruise, scheduled to depart a year later. Then I signed up for another Atlantis cruise, to the Mediterranean.
Why?
Part of me was thinking "I'm getting it right this time." But I also responded to what I was able to enjoy on that unfortunate maiden voyage. Incredible weather. Ports sailing past my balcony. Room service - for free. Even if it was soup and crackers for a couple of days. Tons of friendly guys. And two sets of committed staff (Atlantis and Royal Caribbean) determined to make me feel welcome and eager for me to have fun. Oh, and the infirmary staff was awesome too. One of the nurses was so excited when I was able to get off the boat in Labadee.
Now I've been on three, with the second light years beyond the first and the third even better. But I not only signed up for more cruises - I talked friends into going.
I'll admit to feeling a bit ridiculous, marketing Atlantis cruises like an unpaid ambassador. And here I go, doing it again. Of course, the whole experience isn't all THAT perfect. Meeting a ton of people, one is sure to meet some absolute jerks. But I've only really met one, and I can't blame the companies on that. And while there are all ages and kinds of guys on the boat, the high percentage of stunning hunks can make one feel somewhat inadequate. But Atlantis takes care to address some of these issues on their Web site, and sends out a top ten list of ways to get the most out of the experience. My favorite: "Smile. Say hi to everyone. Be friendly. Go ahead, talk to that cutie who you think would never give you the time of day. You may be pleasantly surprised!"
Maybe it's unfair to compare two radically different vacations. On one, the accomodations stay still, on the other, they move. Or maybe not, considering that neither was a monetary bargain. Sure, there was a ton of acceptance in P-Town - how could there not be, with Commercial Street crawling with us? But on the cruise, I felt as if the world were gay. I've talked up the awesome times I've had with just about anyone who would listen, and I'm wondering how the hell am I going to cope with only one sailing in 2007.
There is one problem, though, that the Atlantis Web site doesn't do a great job of addressing: at the end of the cruise, you have to go home.
Been reading all about Citizen Marketers, Viral Marketing, Word of Mouth Marketing - and I've been wondering: what brand/product/company am I so passionate about that I go out of my way to promote? I looked over a previous post in which I listed a bunch of brands in my life and see only one that's turned me into a blathering WOMM -bat.
Atlantis.
As in Atlantis Events.
Some background. For years, friends would go to Provincetown and return with suitcases full of good things to say about the destination at the end of Cape Cod, almost likening it to a gay Disneyland. Friendly people, tons of guys, a whole different world, lots of fun. And so, a couple of years ago, I went there. It was quaint. I bought some clothes. The beach was huge. The Boatslip made these awesome Planter's Punches with 151 poured down the straw - you got blitzed just holding the cup. I ran into a board member from work. Somewhat inebriated, I chatted with John Waters. And I had... just an ok time. We had two days of cold rain. All the bars had cover charges. They closed at 2am. The people? Just kind of friendly.
Last year, I went on my first Atlantis cruise. The Eastern Caribbean, in January. Two nights out, I start throwing up. I collapse. My cabin mate somehow gets me to the infirmary. The doctor sticks IVs in my arms. I'm yelling because I'm in so much pain. Drugs drip in, along with saline. It hurts. I spend the night down there, on deck one, drifting in and out of lucidity. Blanketed, shivering, I pass out into very strange dreams. And it didn't stop there - diagnosed with a stomach virus and severe dehydration, I'm quarantined for three days. I wasn't until the day quarantine lifted that I started feeling better.
I flew home afterward and immediately signed up for the same cruise, scheduled to depart a year later. Then I signed up for another Atlantis cruise, to the Mediterranean.
Why?
Part of me was thinking "I'm getting it right this time." But I also responded to what I was able to enjoy on that unfortunate maiden voyage. Incredible weather. Ports sailing past my balcony. Room service - for free. Even if it was soup and crackers for a couple of days. Tons of friendly guys. And two sets of committed staff (Atlantis and Royal Caribbean) determined to make me feel welcome and eager for me to have fun. Oh, and the infirmary staff was awesome too. One of the nurses was so excited when I was able to get off the boat in Labadee.
Now I've been on three, with the second light years beyond the first and the third even better. But I not only signed up for more cruises - I talked friends into going.
I'll admit to feeling a bit ridiculous, marketing Atlantis cruises like an unpaid ambassador. And here I go, doing it again. Of course, the whole experience isn't all THAT perfect. Meeting a ton of people, one is sure to meet some absolute jerks. But I've only really met one, and I can't blame the companies on that. And while there are all ages and kinds of guys on the boat, the high percentage of stunning hunks can make one feel somewhat inadequate. But Atlantis takes care to address some of these issues on their Web site, and sends out a top ten list of ways to get the most out of the experience. My favorite: "Smile. Say hi to everyone. Be friendly. Go ahead, talk to that cutie who you think would never give you the time of day. You may be pleasantly surprised!"
Maybe it's unfair to compare two radically different vacations. On one, the accomodations stay still, on the other, they move. Or maybe not, considering that neither was a monetary bargain. Sure, there was a ton of acceptance in P-Town - how could there not be, with Commercial Street crawling with us? But on the cruise, I felt as if the world were gay. I've talked up the awesome times I've had with just about anyone who would listen, and I'm wondering how the hell am I going to cope with only one sailing in 2007.
There is one problem, though, that the Atlantis Web site doesn't do a great job of addressing: at the end of the cruise, you have to go home.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Who's the Real Innovator Here?
If you're like me, you've seen that Vehix.com commercial about a hundred too many times. You know the one I'm talking about. The two guys are presenting their ideas on how to improve the Vehix customer experience to their boss. The Geeky Nerdy Unpopular Unattractive (or GNUU) guy comes up with these ridiculous ideas, like supplying a computer screen washing (complete with hunky window cleaning dude rappelling down to squeegee the GNUU's laptop), and replacing the mouse with a steering wheel so the Vehix customers can simulate driving while surfing the site. The co-worker, Mainstream Cute Company Guy Dude (or MCCGD) comes up with online videos showing the cars in action. And to which of them does their boss, Mr. I'm All Muscley Under My Suit, give the approving nod? MCCGD of course. And why shouldn't he?
But there's a big problem here. After seeing these ads a number of times, I'm thinking GNUU is much more creative, willing to go with a new idea even if it isn't immediately applicable or even manageable in the long run. MCCGD just comes up with the same idea, over and over (and over.) He's playing it safe. He wants his bonus, or his raise, or the opportunity to see his boss naked. And it's all too clear that Mr. I'm All Muscley Under My Suit likes MCCGD's one idea because MCCGD is better looking than GNUU. But for my money, I'd pay more attention to GNUU. He's an idea factory. What other ideas does he have jotted down on his yellow legal pad? There's gotta be something that works. And who knows - MCCGD probably stole his one idea from GNUU's thousand.
If you're like me, you've seen that Vehix.com commercial about a hundred too many times. You know the one I'm talking about. The two guys are presenting their ideas on how to improve the Vehix customer experience to their boss. The Geeky Nerdy Unpopular Unattractive (or GNUU) guy comes up with these ridiculous ideas, like supplying a computer screen washing (complete with hunky window cleaning dude rappelling down to squeegee the GNUU's laptop), and replacing the mouse with a steering wheel so the Vehix customers can simulate driving while surfing the site. The co-worker, Mainstream Cute Company Guy Dude (or MCCGD) comes up with online videos showing the cars in action. And to which of them does their boss, Mr. I'm All Muscley Under My Suit, give the approving nod? MCCGD of course. And why shouldn't he?
But there's a big problem here. After seeing these ads a number of times, I'm thinking GNUU is much more creative, willing to go with a new idea even if it isn't immediately applicable or even manageable in the long run. MCCGD just comes up with the same idea, over and over (and over.) He's playing it safe. He wants his bonus, or his raise, or the opportunity to see his boss naked. And it's all too clear that Mr. I'm All Muscley Under My Suit likes MCCGD's one idea because MCCGD is better looking than GNUU. But for my money, I'd pay more attention to GNUU. He's an idea factory. What other ideas does he have jotted down on his yellow legal pad? There's gotta be something that works. And who knows - MCCGD probably stole his one idea from GNUU's thousand.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Living In DC: You Have To
How many times a day, a week, or a month do I hear "you have to..." from store employees and other customer-service front line people as they're about to guide me to what I'm asking for? Much too frequently, I'm finding. Today's incident happened at Kaiser Permanente, where I went for my flu shot.
The guard at the front desk did start promisingly by asking "may I help you?"
"Which floor are the flu shots on?"
"Oh no, they're not doing that anymore. It stopped on the 20th. You have to call your doctor for an appointment."
I'll attempt to be somewhat positive about this, and consider some other responses he could have given me, responses not placing everything on my shoulders, which I feel "You Have To" does.
How about:
"I'm sorry to say the walk-in flu shot clinics are no longer given on the weekends. However, your primary care physician will be glad to make sure you get one. Just call for an appointment. I can give you the phone number if you'd like."
Or:
"Unfortunately, the last weekend clinic was on the 20th. But if you'd like to wait, I can call upstairs and see if there's anyone who can help you."
Or even:
"The last walk-in clinic was on the 20th. But if you go to after-hours care on the third floor, they may be able to help you schedule one for the near future."
Heck, I'd even settle for a "sorry you had to come all this way for nothing" after the original "you have to blah blah blah."
"You have to" says to me "Whatever it is you want, you can't get it here, and even if you can, I'm not going to give more than a bare minimum of help for it, because it's just not my job to help you more than that."
Last week, I got "you have to" at the post office, where I was told "you have to stand over there and put these stamps on the envelopes." I heard it in an office building lobby, when a security guard said "you can't sign in all those people under your name. They have to sign in themselves." And I get it when I'm swiping my debit card at the doctor's office, and the receptionist says "you have to wait until I pull up the program. Try it again."
I'd be glad to. Could you also try again?
How many times a day, a week, or a month do I hear "you have to..." from store employees and other customer-service front line people as they're about to guide me to what I'm asking for? Much too frequently, I'm finding. Today's incident happened at Kaiser Permanente, where I went for my flu shot.
The guard at the front desk did start promisingly by asking "may I help you?"
"Which floor are the flu shots on?"
"Oh no, they're not doing that anymore. It stopped on the 20th. You have to call your doctor for an appointment."
I'll attempt to be somewhat positive about this, and consider some other responses he could have given me, responses not placing everything on my shoulders, which I feel "You Have To" does.
How about:
"I'm sorry to say the walk-in flu shot clinics are no longer given on the weekends. However, your primary care physician will be glad to make sure you get one. Just call for an appointment. I can give you the phone number if you'd like."
Or:
"Unfortunately, the last weekend clinic was on the 20th. But if you'd like to wait, I can call upstairs and see if there's anyone who can help you."
Or even:
"The last walk-in clinic was on the 20th. But if you go to after-hours care on the third floor, they may be able to help you schedule one for the near future."
Heck, I'd even settle for a "sorry you had to come all this way for nothing" after the original "you have to blah blah blah."
"You have to" says to me "Whatever it is you want, you can't get it here, and even if you can, I'm not going to give more than a bare minimum of help for it, because it's just not my job to help you more than that."
Last week, I got "you have to" at the post office, where I was told "you have to stand over there and put these stamps on the envelopes." I heard it in an office building lobby, when a security guard said "you can't sign in all those people under your name. They have to sign in themselves." And I get it when I'm swiping my debit card at the doctor's office, and the receptionist says "you have to wait until I pull up the program. Try it again."
I'd be glad to. Could you also try again?
Thursday, November 30, 2006
The Official Krooz Holiday Wish List
In the spirit of angering a barrista, here is my Official Krooz Holiday Wish List...
This Christmas, I wish:
the earth would receive a message from outer space confirming there's intelligent life elsewhere in the universe...
DC stores, bars, and other services would extend me the same stratospheric level of customer service that I receive from the front desk guys in my office building...
gym memberships and personal training were tax deductible...
for no more Ben Stiller movies...
The HO-HO-HOliday didn't have the stranglehold on the media and the economy it enjoys right now...
classical music would return to WETA-FM...
Kickass Zombie Movie's fourth draft were finished...
Chris Meloni, John Cena, Jason Cameron, or their lookalikes, would chase me down, grab me by the shoulders, and ask me out to dinner (or Starbucks)...
for 27-inch biceps...
there were more cavemen in DC.
In the spirit of angering a barrista, here is my Official Krooz Holiday Wish List...
This Christmas, I wish:
the earth would receive a message from outer space confirming there's intelligent life elsewhere in the universe...
DC stores, bars, and other services would extend me the same stratospheric level of customer service that I receive from the front desk guys in my office building...
gym memberships and personal training were tax deductible...
for no more Ben Stiller movies...
The HO-HO-HOliday didn't have the stranglehold on the media and the economy it enjoys right now...
classical music would return to WETA-FM...
Kickass Zombie Movie's fourth draft were finished...
Chris Meloni, John Cena, Jason Cameron, or their lookalikes, would chase me down, grab me by the shoulders, and ask me out to dinner (or Starbucks)...
for 27-inch biceps...
there were more cavemen in DC.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Not with a boom, but with a fizzle...
Lately I've had this feeling I'm aging out of the system, and today I read that I'm not the only one. As reported on Five Blogs Before Lunch, a Harris poll found:
...nearly two-thirds of Americans say they believe that most TV programming and advertising is targeted toward people under 40. The study, whose results have been summarized in an AP article, say that more than 80 percent of adults over 40 say they have a hard time finding TV shows that reflect their lives. Thirty-seven percent of baby boomers who responded to the study say they aren't happy with what's on television.
Which probably explains why I keep Turner Classic Movies on all the time.
But this has even deeper ramifications when it comes to the subject of the Aging Gay Man. We're all used to finding the universal (i.e., "somewhat gay") in most television and movies. And we flock approvingly to the few crumbs Hollywood throws our way. But try to find something that speaks to those of us balanced on the pinnacle between 40 and 50, and you come up way way short. Not even our own media helps us, as it's plastered with the young, smooth and nonfat. Where's the big budget movie or weekly TV show featuring GMEA (gay men eating alone), the difficulties with dating after 45, or the pursuit of bodily perfection in the middle age years? It's not that advertisers don't think there's a market for it... it's just that we don't fit into their long-range plans for selling soda.
(I'd even settle, at this point, for a gay character on Jericho, someone who would have to defend being gay in a town that's still doesn't know if there's any civilization left...)
Lately I've had this feeling I'm aging out of the system, and today I read that I'm not the only one. As reported on Five Blogs Before Lunch, a Harris poll found:
...nearly two-thirds of Americans say they believe that most TV programming and advertising is targeted toward people under 40. The study, whose results have been summarized in an AP article, say that more than 80 percent of adults over 40 say they have a hard time finding TV shows that reflect their lives. Thirty-seven percent of baby boomers who responded to the study say they aren't happy with what's on television.
Which probably explains why I keep Turner Classic Movies on all the time.
But this has even deeper ramifications when it comes to the subject of the Aging Gay Man. We're all used to finding the universal (i.e., "somewhat gay") in most television and movies. And we flock approvingly to the few crumbs Hollywood throws our way. But try to find something that speaks to those of us balanced on the pinnacle between 40 and 50, and you come up way way short. Not even our own media helps us, as it's plastered with the young, smooth and nonfat. Where's the big budget movie or weekly TV show featuring GMEA (gay men eating alone), the difficulties with dating after 45, or the pursuit of bodily perfection in the middle age years? It's not that advertisers don't think there's a market for it... it's just that we don't fit into their long-range plans for selling soda.
(I'd even settle, at this point, for a gay character on Jericho, someone who would have to defend being gay in a town that's still doesn't know if there's any civilization left...)
Monday, November 27, 2006
What Story Am I Telling?
Back in 1997, Tom Peters wrote: To be in business today, our most important job is to be head marketer for the brand called You. Well, that's stuck in my head now for 9 years... and only today did I get a full understanding of what he meant (ok, so I'm kind of dumb.) I had an awakening after reading this post by Seth Godin on, of all things, JetBlue and the TSA. In a nutshell, I started asking myself "what story am I telling about myself through my words and actions?" It's the story that enters the room before I do (but doesn't order drinks for both of us.) And whatever story it is, well, that may very well be Brand Mike. Now, after a full day of work (following a full four days off), my brain isn't up to ferreting out all the meanings and examples contained in the statements above. But this combination of ideas is bringing an interesting focus to my thinking, especially about guys. And I'm considering "what kind of image am I projecting" instead of "how can I make myself more attractive?" The second question has lead me to an answer having to do with spending thousands on personal training and hundreds on clothes, protein, and cocktails (alcohol, as we all know, being very beneficial in any thinking process.) I'm not sure what this all means in the long run. I'll have to give it more thought.
Back in 1997, Tom Peters wrote: To be in business today, our most important job is to be head marketer for the brand called You. Well, that's stuck in my head now for 9 years... and only today did I get a full understanding of what he meant (ok, so I'm kind of dumb.) I had an awakening after reading this post by Seth Godin on, of all things, JetBlue and the TSA. In a nutshell, I started asking myself "what story am I telling about myself through my words and actions?" It's the story that enters the room before I do (but doesn't order drinks for both of us.) And whatever story it is, well, that may very well be Brand Mike. Now, after a full day of work (following a full four days off), my brain isn't up to ferreting out all the meanings and examples contained in the statements above. But this combination of ideas is bringing an interesting focus to my thinking, especially about guys. And I'm considering "what kind of image am I projecting" instead of "how can I make myself more attractive?" The second question has lead me to an answer having to do with spending thousands on personal training and hundreds on clothes, protein, and cocktails (alcohol, as we all know, being very beneficial in any thinking process.) I'm not sure what this all means in the long run. I'll have to give it more thought.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
The Best Was Yet Last Night
In reviewing Tuesday night's NBC special "Tony Bennett: An American Classic," The Hollywood Reporter quipped: "Bottom Line: The best thing of its sort that you will ever see." And I have to agree. The birthday salute to the 80-year-old "grand old man of pop" was an hour of breeze, on-the-spot and dead-right orchestrations, cool dancing... and an hour too short. My favorite parts: the sixties television studio variety show re-creation (for the song "The Best Is Yet To Come"), and the duet "Just In Time." It was all perfect - and totally devoid of pretension. Just how perfect it was became immensely clear during the Target commercials, which were exceedingly ugly - black and white plus glaring red, featuring all of the singers in the special as if they were photographed by bad pararazzi. Hopefully, NBC will show this again, soon.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Living in DC
I was in Cosi recently, around 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon. I don't frequent the place much, since I take my lunch to work, but I do know they get the customers in and out quickly...if you happen to get there at noon. I had just gotten my Turkey Light with Carrots instead of Chips and went to pay for it. I stood there, in front of the cash register, while four employees behind the counter not only ignored me, they looked at me a couple of times AND THEN went on to ignore me some more. It was like I was traveling at light speed, and the employees were standing still.
A woman walked up beside me, holding a salad, ready to pay. Now there were two of us in the holding pattern.
"This must mean our food is free," said the woman to me.
"I was just thinking the same thing," I said.
Since I had just come from the gym and was hungry and cranky, I took it upon myself to get some service.
I said, in my loudest, reach-to-the-back-of-the-theater voice (trained through singing, radio announcing, and being generally obnoxious):
"HEY, IS THE FOOD HERE FREE THIS AFTERNOON OR DO WE HAVE TO PAY FOR IT?"
My words echoed off the hard tile surfaces.
An employee looked at me.
"I'm sorry sir, but she's counting out the register and leaving and I'm just now coming on."
"So does that mean," I asked, "we have to pay for the food?"
"I said I'm sorry sir, but she's counting out and I'm coming on."
"But does that mean we have to pay?"
Finally, another employee advanced to the cash register.
"May I help you?" he asked.
The woman with the salad looked at me.
"Thank you for doing that," she said.
I was in Cosi recently, around 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon. I don't frequent the place much, since I take my lunch to work, but I do know they get the customers in and out quickly...if you happen to get there at noon. I had just gotten my Turkey Light with Carrots instead of Chips and went to pay for it. I stood there, in front of the cash register, while four employees behind the counter not only ignored me, they looked at me a couple of times AND THEN went on to ignore me some more. It was like I was traveling at light speed, and the employees were standing still.
A woman walked up beside me, holding a salad, ready to pay. Now there were two of us in the holding pattern.
"This must mean our food is free," said the woman to me.
"I was just thinking the same thing," I said.
Since I had just come from the gym and was hungry and cranky, I took it upon myself to get some service.
I said, in my loudest, reach-to-the-back-of-the-theater voice (trained through singing, radio announcing, and being generally obnoxious):
"HEY, IS THE FOOD HERE FREE THIS AFTERNOON OR DO WE HAVE TO PAY FOR IT?"
My words echoed off the hard tile surfaces.
An employee looked at me.
"I'm sorry sir, but she's counting out the register and leaving and I'm just now coming on."
"So does that mean," I asked, "we have to pay for the food?"
"I said I'm sorry sir, but she's counting out and I'm coming on."
"But does that mean we have to pay?"
Finally, another employee advanced to the cash register.
"May I help you?" he asked.
The woman with the salad looked at me.
"Thank you for doing that," she said.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Whoville
About his high school days, a DC-based blogger wrote:
I remember sitting at a lunch table with the "cool" people one day. One of the "cool" guys leans over to me and says, "Why are you here? No one wants you here." I didn't say anything back. No one else said a word.
I think that concisely describes what many of us in DC still feel, although now we term it "attitude" and somewhat proudly proclaim that DC is filled with it. But how to combat this fear that continues on from our earliest days?
"The Nametag Guy" has an interesting method, and a whole web site on "how maximize personal and professional approachability." Now, I don't intend to start wearing a name tag everywhere. But after last Saturday night's experience at Blowoff, I feel I need to get back on the horse, and I've been online for ideas on bolstering confidence. I've started listing "101 Goals" for 2007, a strategy on The Nametag Guy's site. I've only got 26 so far, and they all seem to be about spending money and... spending money.
Another blogger wrote something about "often, the most interesting person in the room is not the one with the big name," in a post that summarized that we should treat a person as a "who" and not a "what." I wanted to include the actual quote here, but I can't find the page it's on.
More on all of this later, maybe after dinner...
About his high school days, a DC-based blogger wrote:
I remember sitting at a lunch table with the "cool" people one day. One of the "cool" guys leans over to me and says, "Why are you here? No one wants you here." I didn't say anything back. No one else said a word.
I think that concisely describes what many of us in DC still feel, although now we term it "attitude" and somewhat proudly proclaim that DC is filled with it. But how to combat this fear that continues on from our earliest days?
"The Nametag Guy" has an interesting method, and a whole web site on "how maximize personal and professional approachability." Now, I don't intend to start wearing a name tag everywhere. But after last Saturday night's experience at Blowoff, I feel I need to get back on the horse, and I've been online for ideas on bolstering confidence. I've started listing "101 Goals" for 2007, a strategy on The Nametag Guy's site. I've only got 26 so far, and they all seem to be about spending money and... spending money.
Another blogger wrote something about "often, the most interesting person in the room is not the one with the big name," in a post that summarized that we should treat a person as a "who" and not a "what." I wanted to include the actual quote here, but I can't find the page it's on.
More on all of this later, maybe after dinner...
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