Waiting Your Turn

RECENTLY, Australian Catholics turned out en masse to churches nationwide to celebrate the Vatican's official declaration - or 'canonisation' - of their first saint,  Mary MacKillop. 

In the country's largest city, Sydney, at the 19th century nun's former convent, MacKillop House, the crowds arrived relentlessly to mark the occasion from the early hours of the morning. 

It was a hot day. By noon, one could have very literally described the temperature as sweltering, made worse by hundreds of bodies surging onwards in order to cover every square inch of the property before the official ceremony began its broadcast live from Rome in the late afternoon. 
The same crowd pushed its way through the church, along the perimeter of the white marbled tomb of the imminent saint and then ultimately back outdoors to a selection of other buildings on the site. 

I found myself in this surging human wave. Within minutes it seemed it had taken me into the property's gift and souvenir shop. Suddenly, the 'wave' had become a swirling whirlpool of, ironically, greed and panic. 
Hands, fingers and faces were being pushed out into shelves lining the walls of what was nothing more than a cramped rectangular studio room. 
Languages from around the world were rising up into the stagnant air above... Italian, Korean, Chinese, Hindi...

But then, a truly pitiful scene unfolded - only metres away. While inspecting the souvenirs, a nun - dressed clearly as a nun in full habit - was physically pushed out of the way by a middle-aged woman accompanied by presumably her elderly mother. 
I'd missed witnessing this horrendous incident by a matter of moments, but all the same, in those moments, had been separated from the parties involved by even more souvenir hunters. 

This so-called 'Christian' was clearly unwilling to spend another minute at the shelves in what was effectively a race to spend and spend big on souvenirs. 

I pondered the irony of saving a minute at the price of an eternity in Hell. 

And all for the achingly desperate rush to buy a bit of plastic to commemorate a woman who spent her life helping the desperately poor and spreading the mottos "We must teach more by example than by word" and "We are all but travellers here."

Regardless of faith, this trend of bulldozing fellow 'travellers' in our path - especially on this city's overly congested roads - is something that sometimes stings my mind at odd times of the day.

Where are these people rushing to? 

Usually the shops... supermarkets... Satan's spa house for all I care. They're more than likely only going to find more queues at their destination - Hell included. 

Pushing your way through life to save a few minutes is not only poor manners but also risky business. 

One should decide early if the reward is indeed worth the rush.

Service with a Snarl: The Importance of Being Eye-nest.

How often has this happened to you? Today perhaps? 
Picture this - you've entered a shop and, it soon becomes evident, a lively conversation between its staff.
They stop only to stare at you, before continuing on with their monotonous littany including the inevitable Oh-My-Gods, He-Didn't!s, and of course, the And-Then-She-Saids.

This morning's incident occurred in what some Australians affectionately know as 'fair dinkum bargain stores'. Others sometimes refer to them as 'dollar shops' as the humble dollar can yield much inside their doors.

The staffer in question, to my gratitude,  bucked all stereotypes by being male, loudly bitching about an incident with colleagues to clearly more than those few co-workers in his immediate presence. It was quite a sight to behold.

Bundles of minutes passed. Soon it was a good quarter of an hour and this aisle-bound confessional was by now much more than momentary gossip -  it was annoying!! But before I could move, a woman with a pram approached the staffer in question - with a question. His barrage stopped abruptly.

"Sorry to interrupt you, but excuse me, could I ask you a question?" she quizzed.

I was hoping - no, expecting the next line to be assertive with a twist of sarcasm. However, what followed was merely a fluffy, practically apologetic query about the location of makeup cotton pads on sale.

Our salesman answered hurriedly - with the merest of a glance to his customer - only to turn back to his colleagues and continue with his epic tale. Meanwhile his pram-pushing customer presumably continued on her search for makeup pads.

Once upon a time, we humans were taught that the two greatest things to possess when entering a room were eye contact and a smile.

I still try to carry these little words with me wherever I go -  whether it's the local supermarket or the most formal of functions.

Whether or not you are the customer or staff, it's important that we don't lose these most personal of forms of communications in the world.

Eye contact lets the recipient know that you see and hear them.

Couple it together with a smile and you've got access to one of the most powerful duets in history.

In this ever-growing world of ours, it can only help to let people know that they still exist.

A Drop in an Ocean...

OUR national economy and employment sector is not the only thing I've been noticing an upturn in of late. 

I'm not sure if there's a sociological link or it's only my eagle eye, but I would like to start wagering bets on the probability of finding a special little salivary surprise on your next pedestrian sojourn.

You might be making your way down the quietest of laneways or the busiest of Central Business Districts, and suddenly, there it is - lying silently in wait for an unsuspecting shoe or tyre.

Call it what you will - spit, saliva, sputum, phlegm, loogie. 

I call it revolting.



Every time...every time...I witness the all too familiar Head Turn-&-Tilt (and fellas, you're welcome to disagree, but the pepetrators are usually guys), I feel my stomach seize and spasm, and my gag reflex tickle and I have no choice but to look away. 

Is this truly the only way for the culprits to leave their mark in their world?? 

For, after all, in most cases, what they're really doing is the equivalent of a dog urinating on its territory..isn't it??


I can't believe that the need to rid oneself of one's own saliva is ever so urgent that it must be shared with one and all in the nearest vicinity (and left there like a legacy for those to come.)

At the end of the day, it's a form of littering in an increasingly polluted world. 

No-one...no-one wants to see or step in it.

Use a tissue or find some other, less obnoxious way of marking your turf. 

PS: I humbly apologise for the lack of, well, attention to this blog. I guess you could say I've been on a blog sabbatical...a blogabbatical. Still not sure if it's due to undiagnosed Attention Deficit Disorder, or merely a heavy case of NobodyElseCaresSoWhyShouldI-itis... Yes, folks - forget Swine Flu... The latter is even more frightening, thanks to its highly contagious and more dangerously widespread symptoms. Hopefully now, though I've got it beat.

Uncaging the Rage...

Rage. 
This little word seems to be all the rage nowadays.

No matter where we are or what we're doing, it seems we can simply tack this word along for an instant wave of nodding heads and general understanding by the public.

It all began with road rage. And perhaps our Russ and that hotel phone incident....

But somehow it's progressed to rail rage, bus rage, air rage, 4WD rage, bike rage, power walking rage,  supermarket rage, climate rage, telephone rage, politician rage,  soccer mum rage... and so the list goes on.

Why are we so angry? 

We're living in a Western world with all of life's little liberties and luxuries so seductively dangled in front of us - ironically, kind of like the rosary beads, Buddhist luck charms or miniature Korans that some choose to hang from their cars' rear vision mirrors in Sydney.

The majority of us have a roof over our heads at night, food in our stomachs and neither do we have guns being pointed at us before breakfast by government representatives. 
And yet, we allow ourselves to get up in arms about the most trivial of things that are happening in our own relatively private worlds. 

As I tap this out, I do realise that yes, even I, Miss Manners in the World, must plead guilty to letting the rage outside of its cage on an occasion or two - namely when my neighbours choose to start their piano practice at 10pm on a weeknight. 

But the concept of rage still confounds me on so many levels.

Why do people disrespect each other - particularly in small spaces?? Why can't or don't we consider situations from others' points of view?? Why am I surprised and angered every time I witness 'outrageous' behaviour??


Recently I watched a scene so pitiful unfold upon a busy Sydney street on a busy weekday morn - so pitiful that it spawned this particular rant, erm, blog. 

As a pedestrian, I was waiting patiently to cross at the traffic lights near a local hospital when I noticed a 40-something woman of sizeable proportions rather excitedly leap out of her 4WD  - her  ample cleavage exposed and heaving in a dress that was clearly more than a few sizes too small.
Engine still running, the woman's vehicle was leading a growing queue of traffic, also waiting for the green flash. (Instead, they now all apparently were getting a pink flash!)
I watched in disbelief as the woman waddled on foot into the middle of the lane and over to the elderly ethnic couple driving the large sedan angled behind her own... 
It was then I realised that both drivers were in that Mexican Stand-Off of modern times - the fight for the sole remaining on-street car park.

Fists were a-waving. Jaws were a-snapping. It was a scene that would have made Darwin proud.

Furious but not so fast - the traffic lights changed several times, and meanwhile, the queue of cars blocked behind the 4WD was now indeed stretching all the way back to the next block.  

Interestingly, bystanders began gathering in pockets around the site, each taking turns to offer an opinion on who was in the right. 

"Good on her - she should have it.... Goodonya, larv!!" shouted a middle aged woman from the kerb.  

"Look at what she's done - she's blocked the traffic, all for bloody park! She should be ashamed of herself," tut-tutted another. 

The suspense was palpable. 

A group of local workers on their way for their morning coffee had now become onlookers as were perhaps up to 30 others, probably taking a break from  or on their way to visit the hospital's patients.

I continued on my way and left them all, gaping and sipping lattes - somehow simultaneously - entranced by this very public spat of rage.

Only moments later, it hit me - this was yet another Seinfeld moment! 

For a television series 'about nothing', it sure had managed to capture a something about modern life so sharply that, now - more than a decade after its demise - there is potentially an episode in everyone's everyday - today!

I believe the 4WD woman could and should have handled this situation so differently....just as I freely confess that I believe I could and should manage my own personal day-to-day rages better.

In my opinion, this woman let the situation explode out of and beyond all borders of reason, and for what end?? To end her search for a car park.

It's at this stage that we must step back, pull our eyelids open and see the bigger picture - by weighing carefully the consequences of uncontrolled anger.

Ask and answer the questions yourself: 

• Am I prepared for the consequences of this anger?? 
• Where could this possibly lead?? Am I prepared for an audience - one that possibly  could include the police and lawyers??
• What example am I setting to others, especially children who may be witnessing this behaviour?? Do I want them to live in a world where everyone, and I mean every one, is free to express their anger physically and verbally??

And last but by no means least -  IS IT WORTH IT?? Is it REALLY WORTH IT??

Gandhi preached of the practice of Satyagraha - the search for truth through non-violence or passive resistance to confrontation. I wonder if this is still considered achievable in an overcrowded, increasingly selfish and compassion-fatigued world. Food for thought. 


For now though, the best I can hope for is this: as long as we all choose to live in our own private universes - together in the same universe - that we can take two minutes each to breathe and consider the above questions. Who knows - maybe even by the first breath, the rage too will have passed.

Cage your rage. Your reputation will thank you for it. 

Hello, Hello... Hello...??

In this age of mobiles, emails and whatever the latest thingamagig is to postpone humans actually interfacing - have we, as a race,  forgotten how to answer the humble landline telephone??
 

I know this is going to seem like I'm stuck on my own personal 'repeat play' setting with this telecommunications topic once again - but it strikes me that perhaps the answer is affirmative.


Recently, I dialled a business in Sydney's Central Business District (nonetheless!),  and was greeted with a barely audible 'hello'. 

While the phone was answered in a matter of three rings -  is there a nominee awards program somewhere for this astonishing feat?? - the recipient's flat one-worder prompted me to ask if it was indeed the business I was after. 

For the sake of privacy, it shall be named "Tracey's Terrific Trampolines".
So the script went a little like this:

"Hello..."
"Er, is this Tracey's Terrific Trampolines??"
"Yes."

 

But what perhaps was more frustrating than being forced to confirm the business name, in fact, was the icy tones surrounding the final 'yes' and following silence. 


Particularly in the world of business, it should be more important than ever to encourage, well, business.


Some of you may be wondering why make such a big deal about this - she may have simply forgotten to say the name of her workplace (or maybe she'd forgotten she was actually in the workplace!) 

But I'd like to counter with this - in this scenario, I, the customer, was being forced to work to obtain the service of the business, and not the other way around.


Correct me if I'm wrong - but businesses, and more importantly, their owners, should be working and working hard to draw in new customers, particularly on the flotsam of what became too affectionately known as the Global Financial Crisis. 

 If this means simply teaching your frontline personnel how to meet and greet a customer - be it on the phone or in person - then do it. 


What have you got to lose?


TIPS FOR ANSWERING A PHONE

*When you answer a phone, smile. Simple, sweet and believe it or not, the recipient can hear it.



* Answer with a greeting, followed by the name of the business and if you really want to earn that gold star, add your name with a "speaking" after it.  For example, "Good morning, Chester's Cheeses. Clarry speaking."

*It sparked this particular blog and cannot be stated too often  - state the name of the business! Don't leave it to your customers to confirm their call.



*Answer calls promptly - that means within three rings, no ifs or buts. If you're too busy, ask someone else to answer or use the available technology.


*Don't let the Awkward Silence happen. Try asking the caller how you can help them. 

*Speak clearly and audibly. This means your sole focus MUST be on the call - not on your things to do list, a nearby office conversation - or worse, plans for the weekend. 



And finally, some handy, tried, true and tested phrases from generations past:

"May I ask who's calling?"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."

"How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry but I'm having trouble hearing you. Could you speak a little louder please?"

"Mr Phillin The-Blank is away from the office for about one hour. Can I ask him to call you back?"
 

"Thanks for your call."