Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Three ring circus

Pat M. is a teacher at MATC. She’s off for Christmas break - or whatever they might call it. Downtime. She teaches basic skills to adults that might not have graduated high school or that have to brush up on something for their new job in the new economy. We’d call it remedial reading, writing and arithmetic.

We’re both a little older. We remember news when there was more news on it - and less jocularity. And the weather comes with so much drama attached. Hey, it’s cold. It’s winter in Wisconsin.

She likes to watch the BBC. Me, too. It’s news without the goofing around. 

Mr. B is retired. He spends most of his better weather time on his 36 foot sailboat. Sometimes he has a small crew and sometimes he can ‘single hand’ it. He likes going across Lake Michigan to the other shore. He’s got 15 to 16 hours of solitude like that.

I told him my first experience with a sailboat was not on Geneva Lake where I grew up but on Lake Travis outside Austin, Texas. My new friends, twin brothers Mike and Pat, rebuilt a sixteen foot (?) Mystic Seaport sailboat. They kept the wooden hull and the engine and rebuilt it as a pirate ship.

And I still love the wind chimes of the rigging blowing against the aluminum masts when the boats are asleep in their slips. It’s relaxing - meditative. He did not invite me down to South Shore Yacht Club.

And, Elesio. We talked about Mexico; especially Cuernavaca, the Land of Eternal Spring. He lived so close to the dealer that I don’t know what he does, has, or likes. His brother-in-law preceded him to Fond du Lac and that’s how he wound up in Wisconsin. He did spend some time in LA. Too crazy. Too expensive.

I told him our handyman Ernesto brought tamales the day before Christmas for his pals in the wash bay. Man, that was good eatin’. We talked a little about good eatin’. We talked about Mexico City, security and the fact that most cities have their dark side; like Milwaukee, for instance.

Yes, I guess.

Here was my day. I made a parts run to Wilde on Hwy 100 south of Oklahoma and a bank run.

111 W. Michigan.
62nd and Main St. West Allis
10th and Drexel
13th and Milwaukee in So. Mil.
62nd and Bottsford
15th and Howard
98th and Loomis

It was a nicely paced day and I drove about 85 miles. Some days are lighter days. This was one. It gave me some time to reflect on the three ring circus aspect of this job.

The first ring is the driving people part. That’s the part that shows up in the blog. The second ring is what I talk about when customers ask about me. It’s the addition of my experience to whatever topics is at hand. Some of that shows up.

The third ring is a three-ring circus all by itself. It’s the stories of the ADD nature of the service drive along with the toxic and barely functional treatment of employees by management. In 18 months half the staff has turned over. And the bloodletting before Christmas this year? Think of your last check as your bonus, fellows. We’ll mail it to you.

Finally today, it surprises me to an almost embarrassing degree to discover this and then tell you about it. I used to love to listen to public radio after I dropped my customers off. Whatever the set of reasons ... I am doing that less and I’m missing the wonderful authors and their books. I miss the fresh ideas. The length of time I can listen is shorter than it had been. But wait ... and here’s the embarrassing part ... I do have a smart phone and there is bluetooth in the van. While I cannot put the radio on pause I can pause the feed on a radio app. Heck I could be listening to TEDtalks.
Why has it taken this long to figure that out?

The phone may be smart. The operator requires some remedial training.

Lately I have been looking at my entire driving tenure with a new eyes. I am looking to package the stories into book form. That is news to me.

Thanks, dear readers, for stopping by.
Happy New Year, darlings.

...

“Change your thoughts and you change your world.”
~Norman Vincent Peale












Sunday, December 29, 2013

An arranged marriage

Colectivo on KK - not a quiet coffee house.
Somewhere in the conversation the first time I met Thomas I told him I write up little stories that come from people in the shuttle.

“I’ve got a story for you,” he said. “It’s about an arranged marriage. Mine.”
But he wanted his wife to tell it. Fine. After a couple weeks we set a day and the three of us met.

He said it was a quiet coffee house. Such a place is hard to find. I was excited. This was not it.

Alcita was born, raised and married in Brazil. While she did all she could do to stay married her husband left her and her two small boys. She’d met an American missionary at her church and got a visa to the US.

She’d stayed here with some Mormon’s for awhile but was happier with some new Baptist friends including Pastor David. They built her family a small sleeping area in the basement of their church. It was crude and very cold. The shower was a garden hose and sprinkler.

Things were going well enough but time was running out on her visa and she could not change her status. Immigration came looking for her and rather than stay illegally she went back to Brazil.

She worked several part time jobs, raised the boys and found time to go to church twice a day. All the while Alcita wanted very much to come back to this land of opportunity. She prayed. She was angry with God and proposed a deal. If He was going to help her get back to America he would have to do it soon or he would have to give her some peace.

One of the missionaries she knew proposed that she make a list of the qualities she was looking for in a husband. She did. Age, health, wealth, loving her boys were on that list.

Meanwhile, God gave her some peace. She carried on.

Now, Thomas and Pastor David had known each other for years through the church. They were in a men’s group together. Thomas had had a couple marriages fail and by now had three teen daughters. Thomas was looking for a wife again but did not trust himself to make a decision.

“Why don’t you marry someone I tell you to marry?” David asked Thomas, one morning at their men’s group. (Fascinating question, right?)

Meanwhile, Alcita and the Baptist pastor, David, stayed in touch over the years. Alcita had been on Pastor David’s mind.

After six weeks of mulling that strange question over, Thomas asked for Alcita’s number in Brazil and called her. He proposed then and there.

Well ... what to do? We have to meet and deal. Thomas found an immigration attorney, filed papers, took out a loan and flew to Brazil. They met. She introduced him to the family. They liked him well enough but they all thought she was crazy. They shared their lists and made concessions. He did not want to get the silent treatment. She did want any yelling and no teasing about her age. He wanted someone that shared his love of music and could properly fold a map. Some things we have to let go of.

It was an arranged marriage. They arranged it together. That is what has made it different from what we normally think of when we hear the phrase.

It began with mindfulness and commitment rather than romance. Their blended families grew together and have now grown on as adults. It’s been 21 years last week.

Thomas was an English and Literacy teacher at MPS, has just finished seminary schooling. He is going into the coaching business; primarily for clergy and their parishioners.

Alcita taught English in Brazil and Portuguese here at UW-Milwaukee on campus and for the Continuing Education department.

She has just finished the Portuguese translation of her 2010 Biblical fiction novel Milcah. You can find it on Amazon by searching this: Milca (Portuguese Edition) by Alcita Ferreira Brown.

They are traveling to Brazil soon to visit family and do a book tour.

......

Nice to meet them both.

This is probably the first story that was proposed as a story and that occurred outside the shuttle. Given that we sat for over an hour there are lovely little details that do not add much to a story but that could add some depth to a book. Near the end of our meeting she told me that she's written this story down already. Right? She's a writer. What was I doing there?  Interesting. Different.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Word made flesh



Dean lives about twenty minutes southwest out Loomis Road between Wind Lake and Waubeesee Lake. Take a right and a left at the Old Penny Bar. You’re almost there.

He and I were not having a conversation on the way. He was giving me his entire litany, chapter and verse, of car service mishaps at our competitor. There wasn’t much I could do but nod and acknowledge him.

And that was fine enough for me. It was a foggy morning like I do not ever remember seeing. It was an entire museum of fog. Every facet of fog was on full display. It was an upper-level course in fog-ology. It was phenomenal. Fog.

There was fog on the road and fog in the trees. There was fog two feet off the ground with trees growing out of it. There was clear, bare snow on the ground with tree trunks supporting the fogged-in sky. There were clearings with wispy, ghost-like bodies of fog floating free. It went from big blue sky to nearly zero visibility in mere moments. And there were plenty of drivers auditioning for the next big crash on the six o’clock news. I slowed down so I could ... see ... it, witness it, be with it.

I was stunned; awestruck. It was so very beautiful. Once, when I noticed he’d fallen silent, I mentioned it to Dean.

“The fog.” I said.
“Uhhh ... yeah ... fog.” He rattled on about being screwed. Funny he keeps getting into those situations because he’s so smart. He knows better. Just ask him.

Two hours later I’m headed back out to pick him up. His car is ready early. The sun has burned off the fog. Now I can appreciate the snow white cornfields and the dark winter trees with the last snow still plastered to their south sides. I am amazed what the snow does to the dark tree limbs. There is a negative differentiation; the normally not-seen is available.

The oaks in particular have a lot of attitude. They remind me of tai chi masters practicing the long-form dance in a line of sad people returning Christmas gifts at a customer service counter.

I call Dean and tell him I am near. I arrive. He gets in. He’s in a different mood altogether. The sky is blue. His car is done. Early. We’re going to get it. Wheee!

It turns out Dean drives school bus out that way. It’s six hours a day with a five hour split in the middle. There’s enough time to have lunch and take a nap actually.

He told me about a set of twins recently -  five years old. The boy is a perfect angel on the bus. Sits up front. Talks like an adult. And the twin sister is the devil on wheels. He recalled her picking a fight with some fourth graders and winning, until ... She had a boy down on the bus floor and another girl trying to pull her off. Apparently one of her five-year old front teeth was loose and it managed to get snagged and torn out during the scuffle. And he’s trying to drive ... keep a schedule, etc. Blood everywhere.

And at some point there was another student that gave him a big hug - just like that. I congratulated him for his courage and patience. I said I’d thought about school bus driving once - briefly. I decided I don’t have the constitution for it. Hugs are good. Blood not so much.

Mind you, the stories on the trip back were not all about driving bus. There were plenty of hunting and fishing tales with his grand kids in Spokane. It was so unbelievable that I had to research STURGEON when I got home. Now there’s a fish story for some other time.

So, yesterday morning between 5 and 6 a.m., before I met Dean, I wrote a piece about the very day before, meeting Wayne; another driver. He and I talked shop and had a good, old time. I called ‘the Wayne meeting’ a busman’s holiday and then reflected that I had yet to meet a bus driver.

By 9:30, less than four hours after I wrote that, Dean, my first bus driver, climbs into the front seat.

Word made flesh.

----

"Love really is the answer to human problems: love of oneself, love of others, love of where one is, love of what one is doing, love of nature, love of life, love of the world, love of spirit in all its wonder and splendor. Love sets our energy free. It opens us and puts us in a flow with spirit and life on many levels.  Love is the true secret behind manifestation."
~ David Spangler

Friday, December 27, 2013

Drivers, geeks, beans and life after death


 Wayne was the third of three on the first trip out today. We took a guy to 555 Airport Way, another guy to 25th and Tripoli and Wayne sat behind me as we went home to 94th and Cleveland.

He drives for Ewald Automotive for the last three years: dealer trades. That is to say he moves cars from lot to lot. It’s mostly intra-corporate around the greater metro area but sometimes he drives to upstate and out-of-state dealers. He’s tried shuttling people a couple times. Too much pressure to get people to wherever they’re going - on time. When you’re alone in a car you might be able to take a bathroom break or stop for lunch.

I’ve met plenty of drivers over time. It’s the people for me. Still, it sure was nice to talk to someone about driving and dealers though - a regular busman’s holiday. Hmmm, I have yet to meet a bus driver now that I think of it.

I came back to the lot, greeted Kevin and loaded him off to his condo on College. He’s between gigs at the moment.

“Gigs?” I asked. “Sounds like musician code.”
“Yeah. No. Contract IT consultant. I just finished up a project with Johnson Controls and I’m off till the 20th.”
He did not say what the next gig would be.
“Do you have a specialty?” I asked.
“I’m kind of a liaison between the, uh, geeks ... and ...”
“Bean counters?” I offered?
“Yeah, that’s it. I speak geek to bean counters.”

We decided that it was a very handy talent. He’s going to catch up on some reading and possibly get a little travel in before the new job starts.

“Down time.” I said. “Sounds lovely. Merry Christmas.”

I headed toward Oak Creek to pick up Miriam and bring her back for her car. I dialed her 787 area code to tell her I was nearly there and the first thing I asked was where that area code was from.

“Everyone asks,” she said. “Puerto Rico. I moved down there to be with my parents. My father had bone cancer and I thought I was going to stay and help my mother. The last six months were very painful for him. The doctor said he probably had it for a couple years before he was diagnosed. He was Stage 4 when they found it. He wouldn’t go to the doctor.”

“Men,” I said, “What can you do with them?” She laughed.

After her father passed her mother sent her home to be closer to her own kids and grand kids.

“Grandmother?” I asked. “ I can hardly believe. Your skin cream is really working for you.” She laughed again.

She was off shopping this day after Christmas and was quite happy about that. She obviously loves it. She told me a bit about the deals she made and I thought it’d be great to have her along; she knows the tricks.

...

Then I met John and his wife. They drove sixteen hours straight across Nebraska from Woodland Park, CO to his boyhood home in Cudahy. His mother died the Friday before Christmas. The wake was the day after. His dad and sister want him to stay the week until the ashes are ready. He can’t. He has to get back to work. It was understandably somber.

He grew up around here. He worked at the power plant until he didn’t anymore. Then he worked at the Heating Unit at UWM. That was crazy. Finally a job opened in Colorado. His wife had spent her teens and twenties there. Loves it and was glad to be going back.

He was happy to talk about the differences in winters between here and his new home in Colorado. They are so much more pleasant there. Maybe he can talk his father in to coming out for a month.

“Sounds nice.” I said. “I hope he takes you up on the offer. It sure beats shuffling around home by yourself.”

Near as I can tell, it is only the living that talk about life after death. On we go. One day at a time.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Christmas at the Casino

John J comes up from Racine to get his car serviced. I’ve taken him to the casino twice now. He is not the only customer I’ve taken either. Anyway, John calls ahead to reserve a spot at the poker table.

His service has taken about three hours both times and it requires an hour total round-trip time to drop and fetch him. It’s quite a service we offer.

However, we are not taking him all the way home. It’s too far. We’d spend the whole time on the road. He doesn’t want to sit in the customer lounge. I don’t blame him.

I’ve mentioned to management that we should look into slot machines in the lounge as another profit center. Folks could pay us to wait for their cars and then pay us again. I’m not getting a lot of traction on that.

I could take John to the mall. Not a shopper. John like to talk sports but we have to move to politics, tribes and casinos for me to get a reasonable word in.

Actually he’s an IT guy. We have talked about Cloud Computing a bit. He has cautionary tales. Your cloud is not in the cloud. It’s on a farm. Sometimes the farm buildings get seized by foreign governments. That is a cloud that rains on your parade.

He also knew of a wind turbine company out of Madison. Their engineering designs we’re hacked and sold. They were losing bids for a while before they realized that they were competing against their own product offered at a lower price. Not willing to spend a decade and hundreds of thousands of dollars with international intellectual property attorneys against the Chinese, they folded up and blew away.

The cloud is the way the wind is blowing at the moment. You should think about your rain gear and your parade. Maybe you could get gear from Land’s End. At least you can return it.

The picture is from the bridge between the casino and the parking structure. John’s phone gets very limited reception in the building. I had to go in and fetch him.

I’m glad I didn’t lend him any money they way he tells it that day.

Change happens

Claudio, the chemist from Carmex, was in the shuttle with me and three other people. John was in the ‘little people’ seat ... way back. Sad, too, as he actually lived the closest. But, everyone else was going south and west and everyone else was getting to work and ... he was not.

Claudio is sometimes like Santa with his samples. He’s always carrying product and he is most happy to give it away. He says he’s a chemist but all we ever talk about is marketing. We all thanked him and put some on our lips. Well, I did. I didn’t see everyone do it. I’m driving.

Jim was getting off east of Bootz. Carmex was next off Ryan Road. Darla was off S. 51st and Hilltop. What a view. And, finally John and I went north of the airport and headed left at Amelia’s.

John used to be a junior editor at a publishing firm that closed shop after 9/11. He had studied library science. He works primarily at the Humanities desk at the Central Library. He’s also the primary buyer of psychology, religion and philosophy books for the Milwaukee system.

How does he choose books? He reads trades, is up on pop culture and does indeed take requests from citizens on what books to buy. I think he said there’s a link to click on CountyCat. I’ll be looking for that.

“Have you ever been up in the rotunda?” he asked.

“My wife has,” I said. “Not a place for me. On Doors Open Milwaukee weekend we spent nearly three hours in the building. She went up the rickety steps and learned how to change the light bulbs. I stood on the solid ground of the fourth floor. We promised to share our adventures.”

I congratulated him on being the first-ever non-retired librarian aboard the shuttle and, in my wish to make him feel special, I think I ... lied. There had been a two or three week amazing spate of retired librarians, but ... one was still actually working in the Marquette university library.

He’s special anyway. We shook hands. “Welcome aboard,” I said.

Later that day I met Lisa. Given her age and attitude I never would have guessed she is a private investigator for the Unemployment Claims division  for the state. Private investigator? Really? Really.

She’s undercover. She takes video of people lifting more than the doctor told them to lift so that she can report back to the court and cut their benefits. She catches people cheating. As soon as her car is fixed she’s headed to a motel in Wausau so she can tail a guy for a few days or as long as it takes.

Mark is a 45 year old, second shift, suburban police officer. We talked about arrogant attitudes, wrong-way drivers, huge intersections and poor signage. He’s glad he works in the suburbs and he hopes there will be a pension plan still intact when he gets there. (Yes, Governor Walker, your name came up in conversation.)

He was the last of three people out. He moved up front when the second person left. We talked about miles per day and I think I was doing a fine job; driving, I mean. I was glad I didn’t know he was a cop until nearly the end of our ride.

Somewhere in these recent days I met an internal change consultant for a local big-name place. She helps roll it out and make it smooth. She bounces around from campus to campus working in small teams or on larger corporate projects. She has a reasonable budget and a high level of autonomy. Just get the work done.

“Change happens while you sleep. Keep up or risk becoming irrelevant.” she cautioned.

“Change agent?” I asked.
“Long story,” she said, and then told it to me. A firm foundation in finance helped her along.

Her kid is a swimmer of note at UW-Whitewater. They have two cars for three people. Sometimes she rides her bike to work to make that happen. She’s happy to have had some mindfulness training. Her aging father is convinced he won’t make it through the holidays.

“One day at a time, dad.”
Another person I’d love to spend some more time with.

Change agent? Fascinating. Sounds like coaching on the radar to me.











A quiet coffee shop

When I met Thomas he had a final paper due for his seminary degree. Rather than serving a congregation he thinks that he’ll be more attuned to his gifts as a Christian coach; most specifically for clergy.

I’ve been thinking about coaching lately and I thought we should have coffee.

On our first trip I did mention that I tell stories I hear in the shuttle. He said he’s got one for me. That’s a first. Usually they flow naturally. He seems to have one all packaged up and ready to go.

Here it is. He is a partner in an arranged marriage; to a Brazilian woman.

“Maybe you could write that up some time.”

Oh, goodness.

I arrived for our coffee date before he did and on his way in to our booth stopped and chatted with a couple at the adjacent table. He knows them from tai chi classes. Small world. He also knows Brian, a long time local tai chi guy I know who also writes poetry. Smaller world.

(Brian and I meet sometimes at Brewed on Brady for a poetry circle. Actually it’s not a circle - it’s a rectangle; the old yellow dining table in the back.)

Oh, goodness.

It turns out that Thomas and I discovered some multi-faceted synergies between us. We may have more work/play to do together.

His wife has just finished the Portuguese translation of her historical religious fiction novel. They will be visiting her family in Brazil and doing a book tour soon. Among other things I will be making a proposal on custom bookmarks for them to take along.

This next Saturday the three of us will meet at what he calls a quiet coffee shop. (As if. There’s a potential miracle story right there.)

“And then,” he says, “we will both tell you the tale of our arranged marriage. She tells a really good version of it.”


I'm thinking about inviting my wife - just to keep it interesting.

Oh, goodness.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

No gloves. Nothing else.

On Lincoln Memorial looking south to downtown Milwaukee.
Gary lost his wife on October 21st. He was a carpenter most of his life. He ran his own business. He’s used to paperwork.

“This end of life stuff ... the system sits on its ass.” he said.
He’s pretty matter-of-fact about it. I think he’s still in shock.

I told him it took a year and a half to go through probate with my dad’s little estate.

“She was 58. On dialysis the last year. Went pretty fast. We planned and saved. We were going to see the world. Now all that money’s sitting there. For what?”

I told him that I met the hospice nurse in the shuttle. She and I both lost a brother a year ago October.

“October sounds like a popular month.” he said.

They were going to see the world. Now he has a hard time doing the laundry and washing the dishes.

“Don’t wait,” he said, “do what you’re going to do.”

“Thanks,” I said, “I’ll remind my wife.”
Timeless advice.

.....

Cold as heck that day, it was Rosemary’s first outing since the surgery two weeks earlier.
“I picked a heck of a day, didn’t I?” Cold. Very cold. Windy.

She had something done on her left leg. Hip, knee, ankle. I didn’t ask. She’s using a cane. We walked arm in arm. Slowly. I carried her purse. I braced her right foot while she hoisted herself into the van. It’s a surprisingly high vehicle sometimes.

She knows her car is staying overnight. She’s got friends and neighbors to fetch her the necessaries. She was going to make a soup later. Beef vegetable.

I told her I made a root vegetable soup and was disappointed with the flat flavor. What meat did I use? None. Oh. That was probably my problem. She doesn’t use any herbs and spices either. She might have called them fancy. Salt and pepper. That’s it.

I’m sure she made a fine soup.

.....

Cloudy, overcast and 16 degrees, I drove Brad to Northwestern Mutual.
He was dressed in a medium-weight jacket. No gloves. Nothing else.

It was startling. Remarkable. So, I remarked.

“No gloves?” I asked.
“They’re in the car.” he said. (Which we just left in the shop.)
I did not mention anything about a hat. Who am I - his mother?

The remarkable part was that he was not carrying anything at all.
No book, bag, briefcase or beverage. He was not fondling his phone.

As much as we Americans might like to think and talk about our freedom so many of us are chronically weighted down with stuff.

No gloves. Nothing else.

He looked free.

Remarkable.












Thursday, December 5, 2013

Clearly a parade

 Mark locked himself out of his car this morning. He said it was a gust of wind that pulled the door from his grip. I’m surprised. Maybe the keys were no longer in the ignition. I don’t know. There are parts of the story missing. His war-bag, laptop, sandwich, and ID were still in the back seat.

He called in his VIN and we cut him a new key. I took it to him. He was going to follow me back because he needs to prove who he is in order to request a key for a car. Right?

He works about 12 minutes away. His work place has secure entry including the parking. I picked him up at the front entrance and we went around back to the parking structure.

We cut him a key for the wrong car. He has a Highlander and a Camry. I called in. Mark and I drive back to the dealer, get the second key cut, drive back to his work, only to find that the second key would not unlock the car either. It was another copy of the first key that did not work.

At this point we did not know we made a second mistake. Baffling.

Our service adviser said, “Tell him to go back to work, we’ll figure something out and you (me) can go back later and, you know, fix it.”

Mark, the customer, said that there is no work with the laptop in the back seat and, oh, “there’s a 9:30 meeting I wouldn’t mind missing.”

“Yes,” I said, “let’s take you back to the dealer and have you stand around there in order to keep their minds focused on YOUR problem.”

Meanwhile he and I have spent so much time together that I now know that he has a 1980 Camaro he’s restoring. His daughter Emily is off to University at Denver with her skateboard, bike and guitar. She interested in microbiology and languages. There was some talk about the school selection process; Madison, Vanderbilt, etc. Already she does not like the dorm life. Too much binge drinking. Not her. Her new friends.

After dropping her off for her first year away from home, he and his wife spent a day antiquing in Walnut, Iowa on the way home. One more trip and I might have found out his dog’s shoe size.

He was amazingly good-humored all this while.
“Stuff happens.” he said.

Speaking of stuff - I bought a new cap today. I had decided to do that before I even punched in. It’s a black and white cap. It’s going to be a day with that much clarity. Something has shifted in my thinking; clearly.

Lo and behold, as I come in and start to make the coffee, I’m told the coffee is already made. There’s a new coffee roster in place, the work load has been dispersed and there is no spot for my name anywhere on the clipboard. Let’s let that sink in: there’s no spot for my name anywhere on the clipboard.

I’ve been talking about this to anyone who would listen - including the boss - several times over months and months. Why should the guy that is hired to be OUT OF THE BUILDING be tasked with overseeing the coffee? That is how we are running labor and training. There is no body to do it. I always said let’s get a simpler system and let more than one body share the load.

My perspective finally becomes very clear to management over the last six weeks because the three coffee vending machines have been out of service more often than not. Customers like their coffee and the dealer was starting to hear directly from them on the post-service surveys.

Now we have a temporary coffee brewing workaround in place. Today two of the three dead machines were removed. The one last machine is limping along ... so we’ll keep it. Right?

It was a day for a parade - clear as black and white - and I was all ready in my bright and shiny new cap.



























Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Drive Time Peru

It never ceases to amaze me who jumps into the shuttle.

Here I am contemplating how to enlarge the practice of ‘drive time’ to ‘quality time’ in a coaching practice.

Thomas is finishing his last class at Central Baptist Theological Seminary in Elm Grove. He’s not imagining placement to a congregation but thinks he might start a Christian-flavored life coaching practice. Really!

He's working on a website and will appreciate an extra set of eyes on his copy. We are going for coffee next week to see how we may benefit and complement each other.

And a little while later Janet jumps in. When I worked for VW I drove by a particular house in Franklin several dozen times at the very least. It's a remarkable mini-mansion and it's Janet's. I almost could have cried.

She's a Peruvian native with a bit of Chinese heritage. People think she's Polynesian. It turns out we both know another person from her homeland. "Say hello," she said. I will be happy to make that report.

And, as it happens, she brings Peru, the 39th country on my shuttle customer list.

She was surprised I keep track. Why not? People are important.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

ShuttleDave: Life Coach

I was recently telling Jill Bakke about my shuttle gig and what a great time I am having.

Jill creates community and healing at the Atrium in Greendale. She's a life coach, trainer and more.

And, after listening to what I do with people during drive time, she said it sounds like I already have the basis for a coaching practice. I am already listening, holding space and encouraging others. Certainly there is much more that goes into it, however ...

I’ve been creating and distributing words of praise mostly to teachers of foreign language via GoodWorkCards.com since 1990. I created the Mini-Thanks cards a few years ago. I have written the first edition of Do Happy Better as a way to describe the benefits of giving thanks by actually GIVING thanks. A second edition is expected by Spring 2014 on Amazon and Kindle.

As much as I have lately thought to work in marketing communications for a car dealer ... maybe there’s a higher calling.

Okay, there’s always a higher calling.

What's calling you?

Fat Tire Rider

“Two hours after new kids arrive they have forgotten everything their mother ever told them about - well - almost everything.” he says. Ken is a custodian in a student housing facility near the river. He’s seen the devastation and fixed it.

He’s ridden his fat tire bike 5 minutes to work and back for over four years.
Riding gets tough at about three inches of snow he says. He’s geared up for it.

He lives in Riverwest with his bride - new since August last. A week into the honeymoon she broke her right ankle. She was off work for a month and a half. And now the car needs brakes. Or, has needed brakes for quite awhile. They are riding on metal and stopping on the squeal. And now he has to take a day off work to bring their one car in to the shop.

So many of us use of off-work time, our real life, to get the chores done. Often I ask how wonderful it would be to have an occasional day off with nothing to do but what you choose. (You know, the way they do in Europe?)

Deciding to own only one car was a bit of a stretch for a number of months especially when his mother was declining on the south side of town.

And although the bills are mounting up he seems to have a balanced attitude. Life in Riverwest is wonderful - almost everything within walking distance and great neighbors.

He has a particular shine to him when he mentions the Fat Tire Birkie and Bar Hop. Ken likes his bike.

What I like about this story is that, even though there’s so little story here ... for you and me ... it’s Ken’s story. That’s the way he tells it. And we all have a story or two especially when someone’s listening.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Drive Time

Someone said I should write a book. I love when people tell me what I should do. This is a person that did not realize I was already writing the stories down even though I’d already told him at least a couple times. Apparently he’s not online nearly as often as he’d like me to think he is.

Maybe the part I needed to hear from him is that the stories might see a larger audience if they were collected.

While I constantly think of the couple hundred notes I have not transcribed from my recorder I now see that I have gotten 84+ stories onto the blog spaces; ShuttleBug and ShuttleDave. There might be some duplicates.

Where else is free time like this available? This is in between time. Maybe the hair salon. Possibly visiting with the bartender.

If you go see your therapist or doctor you have to make your decisions sound plausible or defensible. There’s this barrier.

While we can and do talk about most things in the shuttle we rarely talk about their car service. I tell folks that my approach to car service and knowledge about cars goes like this: when I have a problem I open the hood, say a little prayer and call someone who knows more that I do.

A few people - very few actually - have needed to vent but most realize that I cannot make the process faster or cheaper. I am not trying to sell anything. We relax.

It’s not that I intentionally want to distract them but I am interested in what they are interested in talking about. Mostly we talk about the job. Their job. Sometimes they ask me about mine.

What did I do before I retired? I love that one. I’m in a white shirt and tie, driving them to work in a company vehicle. What part of this looks retired to you? - is what I think. It’s amazing what we do to the definition of words - I might say.

I do ask about exciting or new projects. I am now wondering about other questions. Here are the 10-questions from James Lipton’s “Inside the Actors Studio” program.

1. What is your favorite word?
2. What is your least favorite word?
3. What turns you on?
4. What turns you off?
5. What sound do you love?
6. What sound do you hate?
7. What is your favorite curse word?
8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?
9. What profession would you not like to do?
10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?


Looks like I’m cooking a book.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

36, 37, 38

On Wednesday I met JB. He’s originally from Haiti but considers Boston his home. He did spend six years in Portland and yes, if you haven’t been there, put it on your list. His wife was transferred to Milwaukee and he now works IS for Harley.

We talked about disaster, relief, helplessness and doing what you can with what you have. He has extended family there and visits every couple of years. And once again Harley is a great company to work for.

On Friday I met Edjou. He looked a little surprised when I said his name - right - the first time. I absolutely love doing that. He’s from Cameroon. He came over on the US Diversity Lottery or something like that. You have to have some education, some work experience, some contacts and - it is a lottery - you have to play to win. In the year 2000 he won.

This is my America and it’s pretty much all I know. However things might have seemed to have changed and not necessarily for the better (he agrees) it is still better than where he came from. He brought up justice for instance. There is so much corruption there.

Mostly we talked about people and caring for one another. I’d love to have a coffee with him. There is so much I could learn.

On Thursday and Friday I have a chance to meet Eric B. He’s all homegrown. He works third shift at Miller-Coors on the bottling line. Not the can line.

Between the two of us and the traffic we could not really get all the arithmetic finished but suffice it to say that on a good day/shift he sees 350,000 bottles go by and that’s five semi-trailer loads of bottles. That's a lot of beer.

Better than that he’s off to load and deliver a thousand pounds of donated food to the food pantry he’s been volunteering at for the last ten years.

Ten years? Yahoo! I gave him a thanks and a pat on the back.

“Thanks,” I said, “We need you here.”

It turns out I might be of some service with his promotions.

Finding someone from somewhere else with a few minutes and a willingness to engage is wonderful.

P.S. I add the 36th & 37th countries to my international customer list with Haiti and Cameroon. Hmmm ... I just checked my list again and see that somewhere along the line I forgot to add South Africa. Amazing. 38.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Roots and Strings

Mary S. drives 45 miles into the city from La Grange between Elkhorn and Whitewater. She used to work downtown as a para-legal for a name brand firm. They were trying to turn her into a Republican she told me. Now she works in health care. Less stress; honestly.

Her real work is her homestead and garden. She grows, harvests, dehydrates, cans and freezes. In the non-growing season she studies, plans and prepares. Agri-business will be the death of us.

I try not to argue with my customers. No argument here anyway.

She was born in Lakeland Hospital as was I. She dabbled in Photoshop enough that she was tapped to create the cover art for the 25th anniversary compilation album for Piper Road Spring Band.

Apparently we were sitting together in the Sprague Theater 15 years ago, at one of the stops on the anniversary tour. We did not know that then.

Often I think I’d like to miss the exit, keep going, stop for breakfast, call in sick, or better yet, well.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Not Much Farther

JG was in from Newberry last Friday. I drove him home and back in one morning. His part was not in. The car would have to stay over. He couldn't have that.

We talked about his wife's degenerative neurology, Harvard Medical, an upcoming trip to Mayo and how to retrofit his auto to accommodate his darling dear.

On the way back he mentioned Mac and was not familiar with the local MUG that meets at UWM. His trips to the Genius Bar have been less than ... he had anticipated.

He was in again this morning. He had not found the monthly MUG meeting online - which was actually yesterday - even though I gave him the exact URL: double-click.org - he even wrote it down. I can't really peek over. I'm driving.

He googled something at home and was not able to find it. Hmm ... maybe it's not the Genius Bar after all.

Today, on our way back to his house, we talked about food; specifically vegetarian. He's eaten that way for 30 years. He's worried now about soy and GMO. He thinks he might go Paleo. Agribusiness crept boldly in to our conversation. I mentioned walnuts, Blue Diamond and the FDA.

He looked up Thrive while we crossed the Milwaukee River on North Ave. He has his iPad and a hotspot with him.  Founder Foster Gamble has passion and resources ... a great combination.

We also mentioned Zukav, the Dancing Wu Li Masters, Timothy Leary, what else?

I drop him at home and I am on my way on to the remainder of my 132 miles around town.

I pick him up shortly after my shift is over. On the way back we start in somewhere else in the conversation. He brings up chemtrails. Now it's starting to get a little out there for me.
 www.whyintheworldaretheyspraying.com

Chemtrails; the big brothers club is weaponizing the weather. I don't doubt it.

Anyway, the dashboard calculator says that, over weeks and weeks of time, the average around-town speed I achieve is 24 mph. Today I went 132 in 5.5 hours. That looks like 24 to me.
I have gone farther in a single day but not by much.




Friday, November 15, 2013

Light up. Move forward.

I meet folks in the shuttle that have answers to questions; plumbing, medical, design, nutrition, engineering, DOT road construction, weather radar, it’s actually quite a list. Apparently I have a lot of questions.

A couple months back I met Carrie Lou Who; a children’s book illustrator. Perfect timing.

My wife Pat is assembling a career’s worth of games, puzzles and activities for sale online. She’s got the data smashing and forms layout  down cold. She’s particularly facile with combinations and permutations. What she’s been missing is the graphical elements; clip art. She wants her own stylistically similar sets of pics to go with vocabulary words; clothing, table setting, farm animals, zoo animals, body parts, etc. And she does not want to get into the copyright legal arena. It has been a creative sticking point.

I’m so excited that my dear wife might continue with the most passionate aspect of her teacher career: the creation.

So, one day a couple months ago I met Carrie. A few weeks later the two of them met. Pat said here’s a gal that gets the idea right off the bat. Contract signed, deposit down and sketches in a few days.

...

While Ken’s car is being serviced I’m driving him to Cudahy where he’s been busy cleaning out his mother’s house. There’s been a member of his family in that town since 1908 and soon, whenever his niece moves on, that will be the end of that. Sad times.

He’d taught Social Studies in Waukesha for so long that he’d had my boss in class once upon a time. That has been awhile. “He was kind of different.” he said.

I do not know my boss very well, but I’d have to agree.

Ken’s now retired from public school teaching mostly because of the political fiasco with the governor.

I’ve said this before and I will say it again. The right to bargain means - the right to bargain. It does not mean you get everything you want. For instance, and for teachers, a lunch hour is not an hour. It might be somewhere in the vicinity of 22 minutes in which time you may answer student questions, be a hall monitor or break up a fight. Now try to actually eat, get to the bathroom and make any calls you need to make. By the way, teacher might have phones in their rooms but their personal use of them is obviously restricted to break time. There is - in some years - no break time.

Ken wasn’t ready to retire but he was able to get out before they stripped everything from him. Anyway, he’s now teaching online economics to Chinese students through One World School. And I shared the TeacherPayTeachers site with him.

Where there’s a will there’s a way. And the portal might be found near your best creative self. Shine your light. Move forward.






Thursday, November 14, 2013

Average Speed - 24mph

Only in the past four or five months have I begun to keep track of mileage. The dealer knows that we're going to offer the service anyway so, why bother to collect data?

And, there is so much data kept by the vehicle anyway.

I work the six-hour morning shift and am done at 1 p.m. I start driving at 7:30. That's 5.5 hours of drive time per day.

The dashboard on the van calculates that we are averaging 24 mph. I do some highway miles if I am going across town for parts. Going downtown in morning rush hardly counts as highway driving.

Occasionally I might go to Glendale, Racine, Vernon or Waterford. Even so: 24 mph. Average.

I do have to stop for passengers, of course: in and out.

Today I drove 119.9 miles in 5.5 hours and today was one of the top three days for mileage ever.
That is 21.8 mph up, down and all around town.

I came home and took a nap today.

Hope Springs and Bluegrass Chicken Feed


Along with his briefcase David was carrying an old-school lunch box decked out in Fender guitar decals. That sort of kicked off the conversation.

By day he’s a microbiologist. He's the guy I mentioned in the Microbial Hog Feed story.

One of the other projects his firm is working on is chicken feed. Rather than feeding standard and ever-increasing amounts of antibiotics, they are working on pro-biotic chicken feed. Hope springs eternal.

However, as we turned the corner in the van, the sun glinted off the chrome handle of his Fender lunchbox. We talked music, people we might know and where things happen.

Turns out he plays bass in a three piece bluegrass band. They’re on Facebook as Backroads BDR.

Further, there an open bluegrass jam from 6 to 10 p.m. on Wednesday nights at Marty’s in Waterford. I went last night. It’s a lovely facility for this type of event with plenty of room for practice before you get onstage. Even if you’re not performing you can just come, bring your instrument and play along in the audience.

Or just come to listen. The kitchen is open till 8 and the bar till 10 I’d guess. Marty’s Diamond Waterford WI.

I didn’t stay that long. I got a date with an early morning shuttle.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

My latest little joke

Occasionally, as I deem appropriate, I tell people that this shuttle job is the kind of job I'd do for free.

And it is. It is right up there in the top three to five gigs I've ever had.

I get a new car a couple times a year.

I do not have a desk, a phone, or a computer login.

I have reasonable autonomy.

I have no one to manage.

I have no one to report to.

When the day is going reasonably well, I am not actually there at the auto dealership.

The time I tell this part of the story is usually on the heels of someone asking me what I did before I retired.  What I think is this: Are you kidding me? It's seven-thirty a.m., I am wearing a tie and driving you downtown in a brand new van with my boss's name on it. How does this look retired to you?

However, I usually take the conversation in the direction of changing word definitions.
"Isn't it funny what retired used to mean?" And, there we go.

And then, one day I heard myself say ...

"This is the kind of job I'd do for free ... and if you look at my check you'd see how close I already am."

That almost always gets the chuckle I'm looking for.

And, as you well know, chuckling is what it's all about.



Monday, November 4, 2013

Connections: Theology - Philanthropy

Last Thursday, I think, I met Chris, an Adjunct Professor of Theology at Marquette. He’s dismayed at the current crop of undergrads. He blames the iPad. I told him I saw it coming three seconds after Steve Jobs launched the iPod a dozen years ago; the breakdown of community.

He sees very little enthusiasm, curiosity, or interest from his students. He seems sad. Maybe it’s not an elective course. We did not cover that aspect. He thinks they don’t want to be there. Maybe he’s right.

I did toss out a few names just to show him that all is not lost. Borg, Bruggemann, Rohr, Spong and a name he’d not heard; Thomas Hora -  Metapsychiatrist.

And, as far as young student types go, Pam sees a young crop of doctors coming up that want a raise and detailed career path advise after a year.

“You haven’t done anything for me yet.” she says.

Pam works for the Medical College and calls herself a fundraiser. I am sure that is the least of what she does. It must be interesting work meeting and greeting philanthropists. She also has concerns with the upcoming younger professionals and their idea about giving back.

We talked about billable increments for doctors and the new empathy training regimen for hospital staff. She said Malcolm Gladwell brought to light a study that indicate nice doctors are sued less often than less-nice doctors regardless of their medical skills.


I am the morning drive guy. It’s relatively rare for me to be able to bring someone back and continue a conversation that we’d started earlier in the day. It’s often a genuine pleasure.

What do people want? I offered what I’ve discovered. I spell it RARE because we don’t seem to get enough of it.

Recognition. Attention. Respect. Encouragement. You can make that connection with another. You have to let go of yourself for a moment. And a moment is all it takes.




Another Great Gratuity

saddled with
satchel,
purse,
umbrella

her arms wide
in autumn jacket
I got a quick kiss
on the right cheek

That's a
happy camper
and all
I can share

World: Small and Larger

I took John - who apparently calls himself Terry - and his wife Diane, home near Howard and South Lake Drive to a street that is two blocks long.

Terry used to teach reading to fifth graders in MPS. He started talking local history and I told him I'd heard about a guy that wrote a book due out early this December about the Town of Lake. (Check with the Tippecanoe Library for details.)

“Yeah, that's Ron Wilson.” Terry said.  “He was a student of mine.”

Small world.

The next day I meet Kris and recognized the street name on the slip of paper I'm given.

“I can probably drive you right there without any help. I went there yesterday with John and Diane. He was a school teacher for MPS.” I said.

“I didn’t know Terry’s name was John.” Kris said in surprise. “They live across the street for me.”

Kris is graduating from UWM with a degree in urban geography.

“Welcome aboard.” I said. “Never heard of urban geography.”

We talked about Milwaukee park land and green space, socialist mayors in Milwaukee, cemeteries, Doors Open Milwaukee and, what was once known as, the Town of Lake.

I do not collect or even notice all the paradoxes that pop up. The small world / larger world is one that haunts me. It probably does not even rank on the official list.

 

Gussie the Clown

I met Gussie the Clown late last week. My first clown ride ... so to speak. She was dressed in her Housing Authority, day-job clothes, but still, wow, Gussie the Clown, balloon sculpturing, parades, fun and games.

I wonder about the time line overlap between her job and her side-job. Did she become a clown to relieve the pressure of the day job?

Gussie does not do many birthday parties. She says the expectations are just too high. She does work with a group at Family Day Games in Miller Park.

Her group from Waukesha is giving lessons in clowning soon. I asked her to send me the link. She said they have a Facebook page and she’d email it to me. I’ve not seen it yet. I did a little - unsuccessful - search. Busy weekend.

We talked about fun and games and the general lack thereof. Most of us have given that up by the time we’re in third grade. Fun and games is just not worth it for all the whining and moaning by authority figures.

I guess if you want to be a clown you’ll have to try harder than I did. It’s not all fun and games.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Thirty-five Countries Plus


On Friday last, Maria, the nanny from Nicaragua, came into the service drive and remembered my name BEFORE she saw my badge. I was impressed.

Then I checked my list and saw that I had forgotten to enter her country in my count. And then I saw that I had also forgotten to list Brazil. It is the home country of Claudio, the chemist, from Carmex.

Here is the list to date. See if you can find the word that indicates more than one country.

Albania, Bahamas, Bangladesh, Bolivia, Brazil, Canada, China, Egypt, England, Ethiopia, Ghana, Greece, Hmong, India, Iran, Iraq, Laos, Mexico, Morocco, Nepal, Nicaragua, Panama, Philippines, Poland, Puerto Rico, Russia, Senegal, Serbia, South Korea, South Vietnam, Sudan, Thailand, Turkey, Ukraine, USA, Zambia.


Gratefully, I am traveling the world right here in metro Milwaukee.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Another Great Gratuity


Here are a couple of mini-notebooks you can keep in your pocket, so you will never have to risk not being able to record “that brilliant thought” that just came to you. Enjoy, Ron. 
P.S. I enjoyed your blog site.

Among the coolest
gratuities ever.


When Ron got seated in the shuttle I saw he had a sketchbook and pen on his lap. Away we went.

“Are you going to get anything done at home while you’re waiting for your car?” I asked.
“Yep. I’m popping up the tent camper; cleaning it out, getting ready for a little time off.”
“This time of year most folks are putting their campers away for the winter.”
“Well, I just finished up a seven month project and this is the time I have.”

It turns out he’s a software engineer specializing in user interface. He makes programs easier to use. He runs his own firm. And, when he was young, his father was a offset litho printer. He remembers.

We talked about clients, deadlines, expectations and the beautiful, wild fairyland of Peninsula State Forest in Door County Wisconsin. Mmmm ... down time.

Anyway, I asked him about sketching. He uses that book to think with. He did not show me anything. It’s more of a think book. I told him I understood that.

Hence the gift he sent along to me with the afternoon driver. I really wished we’d had more time.

...
The problem is you think you have time. ~ buddha
Be kind now. ~ david

Friday, October 18, 2013

Anti-Stress Swag

We generally have standard teller counter banter. It sometimes includes chat about gear. For instance, she took her 4s to iOS7 with no problems. That’s encouraging. I was waiting for someone to tell me that.

Otherwise, we don’t really have time four five six much else, she’s usually thirty-seven, thirty-eight, counting, ninety-nine, one hundred, money.

One day recently she asked me five simple marketing questions. Apparently I passed the test. For my participation I received a stress ball. I squeezed it once to see if it works. It’s fine. I’m very relaxed. See?

I mentioned my blog. I’m more than just a guy handing over money. I have a life ... et cetera. She thought she’d like to see her name on the internets. Hi Tonya!

That’s all we can say. Banking and privacy. Nothing more to see here, folks. Move on along.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Comfort and Dignity

Yesterday I met a hospice nurse team coordinator. She does not usually sit bedside with the patient and family but she has and would again if she lost her current job. Every death is unique and many can be given comfort and dignity.

She lost a brother a year ago. And it was only the day before I met her that she went and picked up his final belongings. There was nothing there of personal value. It’s all going to Goodwill. It was still very difficult. Making the trip. Going in the house.

And I lost a brother a year ago. So we talked about death, dying, religion and spirituality. We covered the cultural taboo and denial of death. And neither one of us cried.



I recommended Falling Upward by Richard Rohr. She made a note of it and thanked me.

On the upside she has a two week old granddaughter and has taken this week off to be with her daughter. How lovely. Life goes on.

And, so today her car is done in the body shop. I pick her up. We are glad to have met one another. She’s already ordered the book from the library. It’s in Bay View. She’s in Bay View. She hopes to get the call. She says she's ready for a new idea that will help her move on.

“Normally,” she says, “I’m not this chatty. You’re easy to talk to.”

Well, I think to myself, I practice.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Art, Science, Yoga

Art, Science, Yoga

Tuesday I met Matt from Fernwood Montessori. Basically he teaches science, but more about systems and sustainability. He’s working on food systems now. We talked about the program and I offered up what little I know about it. My wife was looking into teaching Spanish there and we read up on it. His sister was in a very good school as a young student and he was not. He noticed the difference and that moved him to teaching.

They have a partner school in Japan and it amazes him how similar our two cultures actually are. We did touch on the reactor at Fukushima particularly as it relates to sustainability.

He does get to bring in experts and take the kids to some fascinating places. I asked him if he thought I could get a pass into his classes. He laughed just the right way. There’s a guy I’d like to talk to again.

Once again I met Mr. Bhatt from India. I asked him what was new and exciting since we met a year ago. He couldn’t think of anything. I asked again in another way. Ah, well, he’s in charge of deploying a new SAP something ERP Software System at Johnson Controls. I wish I could take notes in the van.

And gingerly I wondered, even in all the varied cultures in India, if people learn to meditate at a young age. He did not answer that but did say the Baba Ramdev is a successful and revered man that teaches yoga. He has many schools in India, a new one in the UK and coming soon to America.
Many of us here see yoga as simply moving the body. There is more. Ramdev apparently went to an international cancer hospital in Houston and impressed the socks off the doctors. That’s not exactly what he said but that’s exactly what I’m telling you. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramdev

I also met my first working artist yesterday and I forgot to congratulate him on that. I usually welcome people aboard and shake their hand. He and his wife moved from Chicago. He’d been an art handler for museums and galleries and Milwaukee doesn’t support that level of activity. Happily, his wife makes enough that he can pursue his art full time.

We talked about balancing the creative life with the mundane aspects of running a business. He does have an agent that books showings but he still does his own accounting, website and such.

And, it was his birthday that day. Bob Jones, Artist. BobJonesArtist.com

Finally I am looking for a position whereby I can weave these stories into the marketing department and marry these faces to a dealer and brand. There are wonderful people buying and servicing their cars and I get the pleasure of finding out a little bit about them in a non-sales sort of way.

I was hired for a job and have turned it into so much more, at least for me.
One of my jokes lately goes like this. “This is the kind of job I’d do for free ... and if you saw my pay stub you’d see how close I am.” We all laugh.

Laughing is good.


=====
ShuttleDave.blogspot.com



Monday, September 23, 2013

What's Missing Here

What's missing in this blog is any mention of dealer name or brand of automobile.

I've worked as a shuttle driver for three years - here come the brands - a year and a half each with Volkswagen and Toyota dealerships.

They hired me as a part time shuttle driver and that seems to be all they have imagination for. After several attempts at scheduling a meeting it is plain that they are not interested.

I see that there is more potential here. There are plenty of poor reviews online from customers venting about their bad experience at a given dealership. And, while those cannot be removed they can be buried with good reports and stories if there is a pipeline for that activity.

Not every driver encourages others to talk. Not every shuttle driver is a writer.  Not every shuttle driver has been self-employed and has an understanding of business and customer service.

So, I am now looking for an opportunity to blend my unique offerings with a team that already understands.

I may be looking at the dealer level. I may be looking at the brand level.

I'm looking.

David White
david@dlwhite.net
414-282-7185







Saturday, September 21, 2013

Customer Service, Story Telling and Profits

Customer Service, Story Telling and Profits
________

Who are the better customers?
Sales or service?

Not necessarily either. Repeat customers are the best. And, of the repeat customers - who accounts for the greater value - the LOF’s, (lube, oil, filter),
or the people that buy the high dollar work?

Higher dollar service work requires more time. Longer labor time frequently requires a ride in the customer service shuttle.

Customers come because they trust us. Generally they have built relationships they can count on. And people talk. That’s what people do. We can leverage that talk. When we add the dealer name and brand that goodness accrues to the owner and team.

One week I had two customers in the shuttle that had brought us 20 year old cars they loved. The 274k mile car is in amazing shape. The 225k mile car was showing some wear. It’s been driven to Argentina and back. That’s part of the charm.

In a recent ten-day stretch I drove four librarians; three retired and one still at Marquette. In one day; two microbiologists. Another day I drove two women both recovering from breast cancer.
How does that happen? I encourage them to talk about most people’s favorite subject: themselves.

There are stories we can help tell and in the telling we are rewarded with a little extra humanity - which of course leads to greater trust, more customers and greater profit.

Readers of these stories will hopefully get the idea that our customers are important and respected engines of our success.

Customers are savvy enough to know that if our company face does not include them their value may be greater somewhere else.

Customer shuttle riders ...

... include everybody from accountants to zookeepers and most everything in between. Cops, firemen, teachers, IT professionals. Airline pilots, female tanker pilots, former county executives, guitar players, upholsterers, asphalt pavers, engineers; civil and otherwise. Law clerks, paralegals, and actual practicing attorneys. CFO’s, CEO’s, mortgage foreclosers, priests, pastors, Ph.D Economists, Doctors of Pharmacy, Dentistry, Anthropology, Computational Chemisty and Micro Biology. Tai chi instructors, speech pathologists, physical therapists, chiropractors and nurses of all kinds.
_______

... from here and there

I have enlarged my world and have been honored to meet people from about 30 countries and counting; the Bahamas, Bolivia, Canada, China, Egypt, England, Ethiopia, Ghana, Greece, India, Iran, Iraq, Laos, Mexico, Morocco, Nepal, Panama, Phillipines, Poland, Puerto Rico, Russia, Senegal, Serbia, South Korea, South Vietnam, Sudan, Thailand, Turkey, Ukraine, all over these United States, including a couple people from my tiny home town.

Bangladesh was 31. We add 32 and 33 - Albania and Zambia - both in the same day - which happens to be my 18th month anniversary. 9/19/13

________

The traditional and social media that brings readers, ratings, and happy chatter - all of which positively affect the bottom line and CSI’s - seems like a unique investment for visionary management.

Customer service is almost all we have to give.
Let’s do that better.

David L. White

ShuttleDave - shuttledave.blogspot.com
414-282-7185 • david@dlwhite.net

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Hoan Bridge to Somewhere

Finally - FINALLY - today I met a civil engineer that specializes in foundation design. The company he works for contracts with the DOT. And I imagine the Feds get in on it, too.

Yes, they do use a version of AutoCAD for some presentation functions but they also use a much more complex project management application as well. I think he said something that sounds almost like Maxwell Systems ProContractorMX. It was a little difficult to tell. I could do a better job understanding his English - with a little practice.

He’s a young fellow from Bangladesh and has been in Milwaukee for five years after a couple years at Univ. of New Mexico. He attended prep college at home on a scholarship.

“Welcome aboard,” I said, “First of all, you’re the first person I’ve ever met from Bangladesh, and secondly, I’ve been waiting to ask you some questions.” (I am counting customer countries of origin. This person represents my 31st country.)

And, so he told me a bit about the care and concern he puts into designing interstate highway foundations. Lives are at stake, maintenance is critical and politics over funding is the tough part of the game.

His company is now working on the Hoan Bridge project. I almost invited myself into his office to take a look at the modeling software.

I want to see how to add another inch of gravel for 10 miles or how much more concrete does it take to add a lane. How many tons of steel are involved? What if we did add a bike lane? I hope I wasn’t drooling.

==

http://greenfield.patch.com/groups/david-whites-blog/p/hoan-bridge-to-somewhere

Friday, August 23, 2013

Microbial Hog Feed

Another shuttle customer story.

David is a micro-biologist at a local company and he told me that a third of their business is in bacterial supplements for hog feed. Otherwise they service brownfield reclamation and petroleum spill cleanups.

I asked him if he wakes up at night sometimes thinking he has a way to feed bugs off the Fukishima disaster. There's a lot of work to be had there.

"I wish." he said.

Later that week I met CB from Patrick Cudahy again and asked him about the pending sale of their parent company Smithfield to a Chinese company. China consumes the most meat protein of any country in the world and Smithfield raises the most hogs.

CB said that the rising Chinese middle class has discovered pizza and they need to know how to make pepperoni. I don't think he was exactly joking. As far as he has been told Chinese farmers generally have twenty or a hundred hogs.

What they are really after is the total process - farm to fork. They want to get into the CAFO business - Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations.

After a little study I see that China has very little arable land and a large amount of it has been rendered unusable. They have done an amazing job with what they have but it's time to branch out in order to feed their people.

What I did not get to ask him is how the Chinese government feels about GMO's and pesticide use. That was about the same time the EPA increased the allowable limit of glyphosate by 3000% - yes, three thousand percent more pesticide can now be used on some of our food crops because we have to have a way to kill off the super-bugs created by lesser amounts of chemicals.

Currently Smithfield is shipping about 15% of production to China. CB hopes that our government puts a cap on exports prior to the sale or we could see the price of bacon go through the roof.

A week later David, the micro-biologist is back for another trip through service and I mention this hog feed story to him. He listens and does not have much to say.

I do not exactly wish that his car will require service again soon, but I do wonder what study he's done in the interim.

There has been a young woman riding in to work with him these last two times. She's headed to Peru for an archeological dig.

"Cool," I said, "Bring me some bones."
I'll be happy to hear a bit about that story.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

People talk ... right?

This blog was originally launched - as a set of examples - to tell some of the stories I hear and encourage in the auto-dealer customer service shuttle.

I was hoping that my employer would find these stories valuable to his dealership and brand if I added his name and a few other pertinent factoids regarding the service relationships we have developed over time. I need to add greater value to my package.

I have not added his dealer name or brand of automobile on purpose. We haven't had the talk yet. He's seen the posts or so I was told. Frankly I don't think he can imagine any benefit to him and his culture or profit. So ... no meeting. Period. Too bad for me.

I would like to work in customer service communications and social media as a CST;  Chief StoryTeller. I hear stories about our service department that need to be heard. Not all of them are good necessarily but there needs to be channels to route the stories. That's my story.

And, as with every business, there are scathing comments on the internet. These cannot be erased but they can indeed be buried with all the good that happens every day in every way.

I don't know much about cars. I do know people. Many of them think I am a great conversationalist - only because they get to be heard. That in itself is a rare opportunity these days and great service as well.


Anyway, this is sort of a 'goodbye' on this blog space. I have opportunities for greater readership on Patch.com.

So ..

http://greenfield.patch.com/blogs/david-whites-blog

and, from time to time, I post items here:

http://goodworkcards.wordpress.com/category/shuttlebug 


By the way, if you dear reader, think you need a story-teller,
you can find me at GoodWorkCards.com

Best. Compliment. Ever.

Best. Compliment. Ever.

There were three of us to start. Me, Bob and a young gal we dropped off first.  Bob was in the back and wanted to ride up front after she got out. He and I hit it off pretty well. I thought. Chit chat. You know.

He was stationed on the RAF base at Oxford, England the year I was born. He was one of the last USAF guys to do that. We (the US of A) built an airbase right across the street soon after he left.

He said he was glad I was driving. His kids are starting to worry about him. He admitted to getting lost two blocks from home anymore.

We joked. We laughed. Ha ha. And then he said, “I bet you’ve never heard this before.”

“You’ll have to tell it to me first,” I said.

“If BS was music - you’d be a brass band.” he said, laughing heartily. He spelled it out. B... S...

“Thanks,” I said.

Best. Compliment. Ever.

“Nope,” I said, “never heard that one before. Actually I think someone said that of you and you liked it so much you’ve held on to it all these years. I bet you’ve been saving it for me.”

Except I do think there’s a bit of a negative connotation regarding BS-ers. I really don’t think I do that. I’m, um, genuinely enthusiastic.

I dropped Joe off at United today. He works in some capacity for the Brewers as their MLB affiliate. He’s off to Houston for an annual MLB vendor meet-and-greet.

I also met Wendy today on a lovely ride to Franksville. She operates a glue machine at a local factory. Business is good. Turns out she knows a guy I know. Tom. We talked about Tom, her truck, her dogs, the 'up north' place - with acreage. It was a lovely ride in the country this morning.

The highlight of this day was picking Roz up at City Hall. She got in and started talking like I had called a meeting to be briefed on the Milwaukee Water Works situation.  She told me almost everything and I could have kept driving just to hear more. As we pulled in to the dealer she started filling me in on fluoride and we did not get to finish.

“Well,” she said, “if you or anyone you know has any questions about Milwaukee Water, have them call. We like to answer questions."

I might call just to finish up on the fluoride question!

Then she handed me her card, the current quarterly newsletter and this cute red foam fire hydrant. Yep, she is in the marketing department for Milwaukee Water Works and writing a history of the subject as well.

Maybe Old Bob and I could recruit her for our new brass band.

....

I do like driving the auto dealer customer shuttle. Every single day I get to drive on a street I've never been on before and I meet some fascinating people from here and almost everywhere else.

And it occurs to me that these, the people that leave their cars for service, are the most valuable customers that a dealer has.

....


I have not posted on this blog-space in a while, but have moved over to Greenfield Patch.
http://greenfield.patch.com/blogs/david-whites-blog
and ...
http://goodworkcards.wordpress.com/category/shuttlebug