Friday, December 24, 2010

Somewhat Misleading

This could be a frightening look into the way my mind works sometimes. I saw this while I was out getting some supplies for our family Christmas Eve party, and I have to say this was a bit misleading...


The sign reads "Entertaining", but I stood there and watched intently for about 5 minutes and nothing happened. There are few things less entertaining than a bunch of bread loaves. Oh, and don't point that out to the staff either, they apparently don't think it's funny. I, on the other hand, got a kick out of it. But then again, sometimes I amuse fairly easily... 

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Facebook Ads

I thought I'd put together a quick little post of facebook ads I've found. I've mentioned before, I'm not opposed to ads on facebook, I just wish they could somehow be more relevant. It's not like I haven't filled in enough personal profile information...

Grammar and spelling are among my larger pet peeves. I'm not perfect by any means, but I do know the difference between "whether" and "weather"...

And while we're on the subject of grammar, since when did "Hogwarts" become a verb? How exactly does one "Hogwarts"? If only one person does it, would it be "Hogwart"?

I seriously doubt this psychic has my answers. My questions include, but are not limited to:
-"Why don't we read about psychics winning the lottery?" And don't tell me it's because of some higher moral calling, you can't treat it like a business and say you're not interested in the money. $50 million on LottoMax is pretty tempting...
-"If you're psychic, why didn't you know I think this is a crock?"
-"Why do you need to advertise?" You'd think a psychic would know who to approach and when. You never get phone calls out of the blue saying, "Stop looking for your keys, they're in the drawer by the fridge."
-"Why do we read about psychics getting into car accidents?" Seriously, you'd think they'd see it coming...

I don't sprechen sie French. My language selection on facebook is set to English (only because 'sarcasm' was not an available option). That means other languages aren't going to be effective. With sincere apologies to Mr. Bennett and Mr. Hogg (this is in no way a reflection on the quality of instruction received), my French language ability extends to being able to read cereal boxes. That's it. I couldn't talk my way out of Canadian Sesame Street.

Yah, I don't parle Spanish either.

This one just about sent me over the edge. I can assure you that my pets do not have wishlists. Your pet doesn't have a list either. You are not a pet parent, you are a pet owner. The dog/ cat/ gerbil/ rabbit/ ferret/ whatever is not your child. He/she/it will not be offended if Christmas comes and goes without receiving a present. 

Why would I want to send a cake to Greece? Even if I knew anyone over there, they can get their own cake. I have never felt the urge to send someone a cake. That probably makes me a bad person, but I can live with that. I think I once made a pie for some friends in high school, but (and I hate to destroy anyone's preconceived notions about my culinary capabilities) the crust was probably premade and the filling was lemon pie mix. If you're reading this offended because I haven't sent you cake, rest assured you're not alone.

Vegan shoes? Really!? Are you planning to eat them? Are we going to worry about kosher shoes next? Is there a difference between vegetarian shoes and vegan shoes? I don't know if I'm ready for all the issues surrounding this...

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Et tu, Brute?

Let me tell you of my experience at Best Buy last night (Sunridge in Calgary). I will preface this with my own disclaimer, I know this is not typical of all locations. In fact, pretty much every other location I've visited has been top-notch. This one, not so much.

Since Futureshop is dead to me (short version: don't offer extended warranties if you're not going to honor them), so when I needed to pick up a video camera for work, Best Buy was my first choice. It should have been a quick stop, I knew what I wanted so I should be in and out. If they had been busy I would have been more understanding of how things turned out, but it was the first real snowfall in Calgary and not many people were out on the roads. Let's face it, most people in Southern Alberta take a few days to remember how to drive in the snow, but I digress...

I made my way to the video cameras, checked them out, and found the one I wanted. Then I stood there for about ten minutes watching all the blue shirts/vests walk around the camera department like it was contagious. It's not like I blend into a crowd, so I have to assume they didn't want to see me. I finally decided to try an experiment...

I went and stood in front of the $1500 SLR digital camera and picked it up. Well, I barely had it in my hands before a blue shirt popped up and asked if I needed any help. "Yes I do, over here..." and I took him over to the video cameras, showed him the one I wanted and asked if they had any in stock. He checked the number on the tag and went over to the computer.

On his way, a couple asked him for help, so he spent five minutes assisting them. When he was done, he had to come back for the number again so he could check the stock level. The only thing keeping me in the store at this point is the fact I'd chew off my own arm before I went to Futureshop, and the next closest Best Buy is down by Ikea and I'm not going on the Deerfoot in this weather.

Good news, they have three in stock. The only problem is the computer doesn't say where they are. He went to the back under the pretense of checking for stock. I think he went for a break, because unless he opened every box in storage, there's no way it should've taken that long. When he came back out, I could've sworn he didn't have a 5:00 shadow when he went in, and does his hair look longer to anyone else?

He finally found the three boxes, in the locked glass case UNDER the display (in his defense, they were hiding behind another box). He rang it all up and sent me on my way... without taking the giant security device and cables off the box. Less than helpful. Not only will it set off the alarm as I leave, but there's no way to cut the cables without an acetylene torch.

I took it to the front cashier, who proceeded to ring it up in her till, even though I showed her the receipt.

"It's already paid for..."

She looked confused, like I had just asked her to tell time on a clock with hands or asked her to make change without using a calculator. "Is it an exchange??"

"No. The helpful salesman in cameras didn't take off the security device."

She still looked puzzled, but she removed it and was nice enough not to charge me twice. I guess I should be grateful for that at least...

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Just When You Think You've Seen It All...

After reviewing so many resumes and job applications, you get to a point where you think you've seen just about every blunder there is to make. But it seems as though no matter how low you set the bar of expectation, someone always manages to limbo under it instead of stepping over it.

I wish I could post actual clips from some of these gems here, but I imagine that would violate some sort of privacy act somewhere. So, you're just going to have to trust me on this one.

Someone faxed in their resume this morning... hand-written on sheets of 3-hole loose-leaf paper. Nothing says "I've jumped into the 20th century" like hand-writing your resume. I'll skip over the whole technology proficiency section of the pre-screening and just assume your VCR, microwave, and stove have been flashing 12:00 since some time in the mid-80's.

One of the draw-backs of hand-writing your resume is that if you make a mistake, you can 1) ignore it, 2) cross it out and correct it, or 3) start all over again on a fresh piece of paper. Our environmentally-friendly applicant chose option 2 in this case. She apparently has the "ABILITY TO GET CALONG WITH PEOPLE" (the whole thing was done in capital letters, another personal peeve).

Another drawback is the spell checking function requires a hard-copy dictionary. This applicant listed her "Aducation" achievements, which apparently didn't include spelling. Her work history also mentioned she worked at a "Care Canter".

In short, submitting a resume like this will probably ensure your hope-to-be employer has fresh new fodder for the company party. If you do manage to get an interview you have to wonder just how hard-up for staff they really are, and just how bad were the other resumes??

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Pet Peeve of the Week

"Thanks for your feedback. Over time, this information helps us deliver more relevant ads to you."

This is the message facebook gives after you rate the side-bar ads. Meadow muffins! I'm pretty sure they say this just to give us a false sense of hope. I've been rating those ads for as long as they've given me the option and I still get inundated with the same ads over and over again. To be clear, I don't have a problem with having ads on facebook. I'd rather see them get revenue from the companies placing the ads than from the users. I take issue with the fact that I consistently rate the ads which I feel are irrelevant to me, but they keep on coming.

Let me illustrate with a few examples...

I get real estate ads for wherever I log in to facebook as I travel for business, long after I've returned home. Sure, I'd love to have a house in Victoria, but it's not going to happen. I'm also not going to be looking at Toronto real estate any time soon. I'm getting tired of the political campaign messages too. I can't vote in Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton, Grande Prairie, Toronto, Montreal, Victoria, Courtenay, etc., so please make them stop!

I don't need a criminal pardon in order to travel to the US. Unless I'm really oblivious, I don't foresee requiring the services of a divorce lawyer either. I don't drink, so I won't be contesting any DUI's and I'm tired of the countless alcohol ads. I don't want a chance to win passes to the Coors Light mystery mansion, or prizes from Smirnoff, or Molson, or...

I don't need to book a flight from Red Deer to Calgary or Edmonton. If I could get flights from Lethbridge, that would be helpful...

I deleted every application from my facebook profile which didn't involve communicating with those on my friends list, so all the countless ads for shooter games, Cafe Town, Farmville, Frontierville, YoVille, MafiaWars... go beyond annoying.

I had one for "cloud hosting from £5/month". Wow, did we really miss our target market here. Canada hasn't used pounds for a long time now, but thanks for the offer.

Why can't I get ads for things I might actually use? Would it kill someone to have a few Lego ads on the side? Maybe some buffet coupons I can download and print off at home?

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

I Don't Work Here!!!

When I was on my mission, I got used to having people come up to me in stores and ask me questions, thinking I was one of the staff. It's one of the risks you take when you wear a white shirt, tie, and a black nametag. But now, it just drives me nuts. Just because I'm wearing a shirt and tie does not mean I work here. Don't get me wrong, if you are trying to get something off the top shelf and I happen to be near, I'm more than happy to help. As a side note, it's very tempting to stand and ask one of the Walmart staff for "help with items on the top shelf" just because the sign says so. I think it would be fun to watch them haul out the step ladder and climb up, then I would reach up and help them get it down, just to see the look on their face...

The last two times I've stopped in at the Sears near the office in Calgary, people just walk up and start asking me questions. Last time, I was crouched down while looking for something on a shelf and I kept hearing someone's voice. I didn't pay attention to it because they weren't talking to me. Then it started getting closer...

"Excuse me."

I looked up at a man standing in the aisle next to me. My mistake, I shouldn't have made eye contact.

"Can you tell me where [insert obscure item here] is?"

I just looked at him. I find it's better not to say anything than to come out with the first thing that comes to mind, which, for some strange reason, is usually dripping in sarcasm. I don't think he'd appreciate a detailed break-down of how to recognize Sears staff, with their distinctive blue vests and nametags worn prominently around their necks.

"Do you work here?" He's starting to pull a little attitude...

"No." If I say much more than that, I'm not sure I'll be able to reign it in later... I stood up, he looked a little sheepish and walked off.

Yesterday, I went in on my lunch break trying to find a button-down shirt. Apparently XL means huge waist and short T-Rex arms. Unless you're an over-weight Oompaloompa, Sears doesn't seem to carry shirts in your size. As I'm looking, some woman comes up and asks me if I work here. I said, "no" and expected she'd just wander off and look for someone who did. No such luck.

"Could you tell me how to get to the upstairs?"

First, when someone says they don't work here, why would you continue your line of questioning? Do you just assume the answer you seek is part of the collective knowledge every customer (aside from yourself) possesses? Do you figure somehow I may have stumbled upon this well-hidden secret? How about I ask you, "if a train leaves Boston traveling west at 80mph at the same time a bus leaves Seattle traveling east at 60mph, where will they cross and at what time?" Or better yet, "What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?" That seems fair, doesn't it? I'll trade you one of your dumb questions for one of mine.

Second, I don't know how many of you are familiar with the Sears in the Marlborough Mall in Calgary. If you are, you'll know why I nearly lost the end of my tongue trying not to respond. If you aren't, the fact that there is no second level isn't immediately obvious to you. However, anyone who actually drives to the mall can clearly determine from the parking lot that the entire mall is one level. There is no upstairs, unless you're a maintenance worker and you have to service the heating/air conditioning units on the roof.

So from these and many other similar experiences at Walmart, Futureshop (funny story, I once sold a computer to someone at Futureshop before they realized I didn't actually work there), Best Buy, etc., I've come to the conclusion I need to either:
a) stop shopping while I'm dressed for work (I'm not allowed to go out in my pajamas, so that would really put a damper on my available shopping hours), or
b) carry a handy reference chart to show people how to recognize real staff at various stores. Kind of like those "spot the difference" books for kids, a photo of me next to a photo of the store staff...

"Hmmm, he is wearing a shirt and tie, but I don't see the bright blue vest or a nametag. He must be on a break, let's ask him anyway..."

Saturday, September 25, 2010

The Glorious Life of Business Travel

People sometimes comment about how much travel I do for work. People with families sympathize with the time spent away from home. Fathers of young children fantasize about getting a full night's sleep uninterrupted by crying kids. Non-marrieds usually say something along the lines of "You must love getting away from the kids!" Trust me, it's not as glamorous as it may appear on the outside.

Let's take this week as an example:

Wetaskiwin, AB Super8... after checking in, the desk clerk informs me their keycard coder is broken and won't be replaced until tomorrow, which means he has to let me into my room using the hotel master keycard. I felt somewhat like a prison inmate being escorted to his cell. I had to follow him to the second floor and down to the end of the hallway where he let me into my room. I didn't dare leave again because I didn't want to end up locked out of my room. With my luck, I'll go out for dinner and he'll get called away on some hotel emergency and I'll end up sleeping in the lobby. Then in the morning when I went to iron my shirt, I discovered there was no ironing board. This would've been more of an inconvenience if there had actually been an iron in the room. They probably figured I wouldn't need an ironing board without an iron (which makes sense). To add insult to injury, my room was so far down the hall I couldn't get a good wireless internet connection (it was a long-distance phone call to the front desk).

Courtenay, BC Travelodge... home of possibly the hardest mattresses and thinnest blankets I've seen in a long time. I'm used to having blankets you can see through, but not pillows. I have three or four of them piled up in my attempts to get comfortable. Two wonderful nights of car alarms going off in the parking lot, water pipes that squealed like cornered pigs, and a room heater that didn't want to go above 68F no matter how high you crank the dial. Apparently there is a shortage of ironing equipment, or a conspiracy. Maybe they're just afraid I'm going to hurt myself. I knew a guy who once burned his neck ironing his shirt collar... no word of a lie.

Campbell River, BC Travelodge... situated right across the road from the ocean, and I get a view of the rear parking lot. Seems about right. Two double beds huh, that should be fun. Maybe if I slide them together I could lay down across both of them. Oh good, the outlet where my laptop has been plugged in all night apparently doesn't work, nothing like starting out the day with 5% battery capacity. I've given up on expecting irons/boards in the rooms now. On the plus side, this is one of the first rooms I've had where the curtains actually close all the way. That's because it's just one big curtain, which is fine because I didn't really want to look at the parking lot anyway.

Courtenay, BC Best Western... why didn't I stay here the first time? Comfy bed, nice blankets, it had been so long since I had seen an iron or ironing board in a room I almost didn't recognize them. You know you're in a good hotel when you want to steal the pillows. I was really close to stuffing one in my suitcase and blaming its disappearance on the cleaning staff, but it wouldn't fit. What's this?? A real shower head?! And it even had water pressure too, this is almost like Christmas.

Saanichton, BC Super8... I don't think this room had been updated since the 70's. A padded chair and a recliner which don't match (each other, or anything else in the room), both looked like they were obtained at the "Raymond Flea Market" (the last Monday of the month when we can stick pretty much anything on the curb and the town will haul it away for us... sometimes people will pick up items early if they see something they like). I'm not sure what the official term for imitation imitation-leather would be, but the chair was covered in it. This was seriously one step away from the plastic furniture covers. I realized that the dirty laundry bags must come as a package deal with the iron/board because this one didn't have any of them, good thing I picked one up at the Best Western. And I love having to pull the desk away from the wall so I can access the only wall outlet in the room, it's a good workout.

So go ahead, envy me for my carefree life of travel and leisure. Trust me, it's not as glamorous and rosey as it looks. Did I mention the front desk staff at the Calgary hotel recognized when I started using my new Airmiles MasterCard? He also gets worried about me if I don't check in before 10:30pm when I've made a reservation. When I put on my shoes at home, the kids ask me how many days I'll be gone this time. Yah, livin' the dream...

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Redefining Marriage

I'm not going to get into the marriage debate with anyone because no amount of debate will make any difference to what really matters. What I will do, however, is relentlessly mock some of these extreme examples of people who have taken marriage to levels it was never intended to go.

November 2009. A Japanese man married Nene Anegasaki. Big deal, right? I don't know if any of you have heard of the Nintendo DS game "Love Plus", I hadn't before I read about this. Apparently Nene is one of the characters in the game. This wasn't like some Comic-Con appearance where his girlfriend dresses up like the character (or slave Leia, which apparently is a big thing). No, he brought his DS to the ceremony and was married to the character.

May 2010. Lee Jin-gyu from Korea marries his pillow. To be fair, it wasn't just a regular pillow. It was a large one with the picture of an anime character on it. I know what you're thinking... "Whew! That's okay then. For a moment there, I thought this was going to be weird.

Uwe Mitzscherlich, a German postal worker married Cecilia, his love of ten years. What could possibly be wrong there? She wasn't a game character or a pillow. The doctor told Uwe that Cecilia was ill and may not live for much longer, which seems to have prompted the wedding. Now, when I say "doctor", I really mean veterenarian. I'll let your minds wander around to all the different possibilities for a minute before I mention that Cecilia is a cat. Said Uwe, "Cecilia has such a trusting character. We constantly smooch and she has slept in my bed from the beginning of our relationship, which is unique." I almost feel to apologize about some of the things I may have said about pet parents, because this is a whole new level of stupid. I've heard many statistics in psychology and sociology about how married people tend to live longer, and how people with pets tend to live longer. I can't say I've seen any statistics on the lifespan of people who marry pets. I wonder if there's a government-funded study in there somewhere...

On a similar note in India, Selva Kumar felt guilty about killing two dogs around fifteen years ago and feels he has been cursed with paralyzed legs and hands as well as the loss of hearing in one ear as a result. What's the cure? It's so obvious, I don't know why anyone would even have to ask. Find a stray dog and marry it. No, seriously, he married a dog. It may be too soon to tell if the curse is lifting or not, though.

A 37-yr old Chinese man, Liu Ye, married himself to show his dissatisfaction with reality. He had a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself dressed as a woman to stand in at the ceremony. To be clear, the cutout was not dressed as a woman, it was a photo of him dressed as a woman. I'm not sure how the divorce proceedings would work in a case like that. How would you structure visitation rights? Who would get the house? What about the conditions of the restraining order? It seems a little problematic at best. The scary part was that he found 100 people to actually show up to the ceremony. Personally, I'm not sure how he managed to stay single long enough to marry himself.

I won't even discuss the man who married his Volkswagen Beetle named Vanilla, or the fact that he had relationships with Airwolf (the helicopter from the 80's TV show), or a Ford Ranger he named Ginger. Won't talk about the woman who married the Eiffel Tower (changed her last name to Eiffel too), or the woman who married a piece of the Berlin Wall, or the woman who wants to marry a roller coaster ride.

Forget about trying to define which two (or more) people can get married, apparently we need to start worrying about what people can marry. And what if these people believe in arranged marriages? Heaven forbid any of them should actually have children, but just imagine when mom or dad introduces you to the family pet, or Wii game, or whatever, with that hopeful gleam in their eyes.

Monday, August 16, 2010

iLuv It

This year for my birthday Dawn (and her co-conspirators) got me an iPad.


I've talking about them for months (apparently we stopped to look at them on our way home before the accident), but in the way I talk about maybe someday I'll get a Corvette. This time I was actually looking into it though. I checked out the specs, even surfed the App store periodically to see what I'd do with one if the planets aligned just right. I had about 12 apps added to my wish list, just in case...

So, now I have one (32GB wi-fi, no 3G service) and it is awesome! The iBooks reader is cool, although there isn't much content yet compared with readers like Kindle. That's okay because I also have the Kindle app. The default calendar and contacts programs will sync with Outlook or Google, and email syncs with several different services. I transferred my movies from the iPod so now I can watch them on a large screen (and toggle between full and widescreen modes). The Safari browser is pretty good and works with most of my favorite sites without many issues. It doesn't like the animations on the Lego site, sadly.

Some of the cool apps I've found so far:
-Dropbox, filesharing app which let's you access your files from various computers and devices. I can update a file at home and it will be automatically updated when I access it from work, or now my iPad.
-LCARS clock, a Star Trek themed clock with an alarm. It looks like the computer screens on Next Gen. Dawn was so happy she was speechless when she saw it. I think she may even have had a tear in her eye...
-Chronicle, a password protected journal app which also lets you add photos and export to your computer.
-Google Earth, a stripped-down version of the desktop app. Still fun.
-Planets, shows the position of the sun, moon, and stars relative to your location. I'm lucky to find the big dipper, so this is a great app for me.
-DocumentsToGo, allows viewing and editing of Microsoft Office documents.
-MormonChannel, audio streaming of various radio programs. Also includes audio for the Church magazines, scriptures, and conference sessions.
-GospelLibrary, can read the scriptures, conference talks, curriculum manuals, etc. as well as making your own notes and cross-references.
-The Weather Channel, cool forecasting app where you can get weather updates on your favorite locations.
-iFitness, has a very comprehensive section on various exercises based on equipment, or no equipment at all, and let's you set up your own workouts. It also tracks progress and stats. Hopefully this will help get me off my flabby backside.
-Mythbusters, this is too much fun. A few video clips and three little games based on experiments done on the show. Awesome.
-AirAttack, a fun arcade-style flight game where you can control the plane by tilting the iPad. Somewhat addictive.

I'm still scouring iTunes for more cool apps. I'm even thinking of doing my lesson on Sunday just from my iPad instead of printing off 4-5 pages every time. The screen is easy to read and it has a ridiculously long battery life. This is one of the coolest gadgets ever. And somewhat depressing to think that the first computer we bought after Dawn & I got married didn't even come close to any of the capabilities.

I wasn't a fan of the screen protector, it showed fingerprints and smears more than the regular screen. I would recommend the Apple case though. The cover folds back and makes a handy stand for using on your lap or desk.

As you can see, I'm having a lot of fun with my new toy. To give you an idea of how much fun I'm having, I didn't even put my two new Lego sets together until Saturday because I was playing with the iPad on Thursday night and Friday.

Oh, and I wrote this entry entirely on my iPad...

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

How NOT To Get A Tip

Let me preface my wonderful experience at the Montana's across from the Sunridge Mall in Calgary (32 St and Sunridge Blvd NE, just in case anyone was wondering) with my philosophy on leaving tips. If I'm going to give you more money than what is owed on the bill, it's because you have given me more service than for what you have been paid. I do not tip because there is an unspoken expectation or because there is a space for "Tip" on the bill. I will happily give you a tip for going above and beyond your required duties.

I used to carry Canadian Tire money with me for those times when the staff didn't deserve a tip, but I'm not allowed to do that anymore. So now I don't leave anything at all if the service has been poor (just think what they could've done with all that Canadian Tire money).

You will not get a tip from me if:
1. After I have been waiting thirty minutes for my meal, you come to my table to ask if I have received my food yet. I seriously couldn't give her an answer. Honestly, how do you answer a question that stupid?? My table is bare, there is no plate in front of me, my cutlery is still wrapped in the napkin because I haven't used it yet, and I've started chewing on the table to hold me over. It's not like she hasn't walked past my table repeatedly while serving other customers. "I'll go check the kitchen to see if it's ready yet." That's a good idea, princess. It tells me you haven't been watching for it and has probably been under the heat lamp for twenty minutes. Nothing hits the spot like a warm steak sandwich...

2. You bring my meal without any sort of apology for the delay. At least pretend to be concerned. I'm not asking for tears or an Oscar performance, but a simple "I'm sorry for the wait" would help.

3. You have walked past my empty glass eight times without stopping to see if I would like a refill. The menu says "free refills on soft drinks", don't hoard them as though you have to draw them out of a well from atop a treacherous cliff where even the mountain goats fear to tread with a bucket and a long rope.

4. You don't stop to ask if my steak is done right, or how the meal is. Granted, the piece of meat they stuck on the bread may not technically be steak (it may have at one point been in the fridge beside a steak), take a second to see if I need anything (like a Costco-sized jug of BBQ sauce to help soften it up enough to gnaw through).

5. You bring me the bill before you ask me if I want dessert. This, probably more than any other offense, is your tip's kiss of death. If the desserts were big enough, I'd order one instead of my meal. In fact, dessert is my favorite meal of the day. I really like their deep-fried cheesecake and was actually going to order the full-sized option, instead of the individual portion. Heck, I probably would've given her a tip after all that, just for letting me have chocolate and caramel sauce on it, which they do sometimes (I still don't understand why they offer those as either/or choices).

The sad part is how easy it would have been to fix any one of those issues, but she didn't even try. It's too bad there isn't a negative tip option...

Friday, August 6, 2010

Is Nothing Sacred??

I was watching TV in my hotel room the other night when I saw a commercial which pushed a couple of my buttons. To be fair, some of them are bigger than others and are much easier to trigger.

I am a HUGE fan of ice cream. We usually have two 2.5 gallon pails in the freezer at all times. One is vanilla (for mixing, topping, milkshakes, etc.) and the other is flavored. While I have a few definite favorites (hmmmmmmm, tiger), I'm open to most flavors (just keep the raisins and bubblegum away from it). I have learned not to eat ice cream on my way to work because I will invariably spill it on my shirt, so I will intentionally schedule some of my trips around being able to stop for ice cream on my way home.

So you can imagine my horror when I saw the commercial for *gasp* Dairy Queen's new mini blizzards.


By the power of Greyskull, who was the over-paid marketing executive genius who came up with this?!?  A 6oz blizzard?!? It's half the size of the small cup. And it was only a couple of years ago when they scaled back the cup sizes, hoping no one would notice (like I'm not going to realize the large is suddenly in a medium cup). I was trying not to yell, or throw something, at the TV (don't shoot the messenger, right?) while holding back tears.

If they are so bent on ruining something, why not mess around with something that didn't single-handedly save their entire chain from extinction. Experiment with the hot dogs, the iron-grilled sandwiches, the salads, because heaven knows we aren't coming to DQ specifically for those gems. I've never heard anyone say, "Let's make a DQ run, I really want a salad!"

DQ is known for ice cream. Dilly bars, Peanut Buster Parfaits, and most of all, Blizzards. I am of the opinion that the current sizes were already too small. I miss the good ol' days when a large blizzard really was large. If you want to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the blizzard, give us a larger size, not a smaller one. This is the Texas of ice cream treats, don't mess with it!!

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Get Outta the Line!!

I have come to the conclusion that there should be a mandatory skills/competency test for anyone who wants to use the self-serve checkouts at Wal-Mart. I'm not talking vector calculus or organic chemistry, just a simple English comprehension test with possibly some basic reasoning and problem solving thrown in. If you don't pass the test, not only do you not get to use the self-serve lane, but you also have to wear the cool pointed white hat.

Really people, how hard can it be? Take the item, scan it, put it in the bagging area, move to next item. Not rocket science. But apparently this simple process manages to elude the grasp of most of the people who were ahead of me in the line this evening.

I have resigned myself to the fact that I invariably select the longest line. It may look shorter, but something always happens and mine takes longer. Someone has to find a coupon, an item doesn't scan properly, the clerk has to call for a price check because the customer picked the one item in the whole store that doesn't have a price tag or a bar code. Tonight was no exception. There were two check-outs which were actually functioning (the others had lovely hand-written signs indicating they were out of order). The first was being used by two women, the odds should be good that two people could figure out the complex system required to successfully scan their purchases. However, this was not the case. They would scan an item, then put it directly into their cart. Then they tried to scan the next item, but the system wouldn't let them because it didn't sense anything in the bagging area. The poor staff member who drew the short straw and was assigned to monitor the self-serve area had to come over and explain it to them, again.

While that is going on, there was a lady using the second checkout. She would reach into her cart and pull out one vegetable and place it on the scale. Then she'd have to follow the on-screen prompts to select which type of produce etc. I'm not sure exactly what goes on the screen as I don't take produce through the self-checkouts, but judging from the puzzled looks and the amount of times she had to touch the screen for her single tomato, the computer was asking her to find the value of X using the quadratic equation. Once that one was done, she'd reach back into her cart and pull out a single cucumber and go through the process again.

I have learned that since the car accident, my stupidity tolerance has gone way down below my normal levels (and it was so high to begin with). This is not good, especially when I'm standing in line with my two items. I decided to cut my losses and go down to the express checkout. I'd have to say this had mixed results. Sure, the line was shorter and was moving along nicely... until the lady in front of me went to pay for her purchase

with a frikkin cheque!!!

Seriously, who still uses cheques?!? And she was one of those who doesn't move from the register until she has entered the amount in her cheque register and balanced her account. Oh wait, it gets better... she waited until she was done balancing her books and doing her taxes before giving the clerk her requisite two pieces of ID. By this time my eye is twitching, veins are protruding from my forehead, "accidents" are being plotted...

The clerk waved to me to come forward, I'm sure he was trying to pressure Senora Speedy into moving faster. As he scanned in my two items, she stepped back in, nearly pushing me aside, saying she needs to find her wallet. How can you lose your wallet/cheque book in the thirty seconds between getting your receipt and taking two steps?!

"Oh, here it is in my bag."

That loud snap you just heard was the sound of my self-restraint breaking under the strain of rampant stupidity. I pulled out my debit card while she was still standing there, hoping desperately that she'd wonder what the strange thing was and maybe look into getting one for herself.

As I walked out, I passed the self-serve checkouts and for once I had made the right choice in bailing out into the other line. She reached into her cart and placed one lemon on the scale...

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

That's a First

Anyone who has ever been to a fast food restaurant knows that up-selling is just part of the process. "Would you like fries with that?" "Would you like to make that a meal today?" Sometimes it's annoying, but many times it works and the customer ends up spending more money (good for the restaurant) and receives more of what they want (good for the customer).

I was in Chicago last week for the Subway convention. After surviving the taxi ride from the airport (I swear our driver was Satan's personal chauffeur. No depth perception whatsoever, every time he changed lanes someone was honking at him for cutting them off, pedestrians must've offended him somehow because he kept trying to hit them, I was sending texts to Dawn "tell kids I <3 them"...), I wasn't really in the mood to drive anywhere again so I decided to walk around the hotel. There was a Subway restaurant just down the block a little ways, so I went in for supper (they keep advertising things that we can't get up in Canada). The service was very good and friendly, and when I got to the till, I grabbed the large cup to go with my sandwich.

Let me jump in with a little behind the scenes here. As a consultant for Subway, I have become probably one of the worst customers on the planet because I know what the staff should be doing (even when I go into other restaurants, I'm always pointing out things that need to be fixed...). Anyhow, I was mentally making notes as they made my sandwich. Hmm, they didn't ask if I wanted double meat or bacon... When I got closer to the till, I was anticipating "Would you like to add chips or cookies and a drink to make it a meal?" (or something along those lines). So when I grabbed the large cup, I naturally expected a question about chips or cookies. Instead, the girl at the till just asked if I wanted the meal (not the best, but better than nothing I guess). I said yes and grabbed a bag of chips to save her the effort of asking. Then, for the first time ever in my life, she tried to "down-sell" me.

"This is the cup that comes with the meal," she said, pointing to the medium.

"I know, but I want a large." We don't have 44oz cups at home, so this was somewhat of a novelty for me. And really, the 21oz just isn't going to cut it. It's so hot outside, the metal chairs are starting to look like something out of the Salvador Dali painting where all the watches are melting. I'm only getting this cup because you don't have anything larger and I'm pretty sure you'd frown on me drinking right from the fountain.

"But this one is cheaper." I'm having flashbacks to the Futurama episode where Fry is ordering Slurm at the movie theater and the guy behind the counter tells him, "for 25 cents less, you can downsize to the extra small..."

"That's okay, I'll pay the difference." I know there's a button on their till for substituting a large drink for a medium, and if there isn't, I could seriously walk her through the steps of making one...

She had a really puzzled look on her face as she rang it through and gave me my change back. It's not like I was asking her to cut off her own finger, I was just trying to spend more money for something I wanted.

I've worked with many staff who are a bit nervous about asking the suggestive selling questions out of the fear they may offend the customer. Let me tell you, I'd rather have someone ask me to add things to my order than try to talk me out of something I've already ordered.

Friday, July 9, 2010

South of the Border

We went down to Kalispell with our friends, the Salmons, for a couple of days this week. On our way down, we stopped at the Alberta museum in West Glacier. I got a kick out of the T-Rex holding the Canada flag...

While in Kalispell, we found an awesome restaurant called HuHot.
This place puts Mongolie Grill to shame. It is the same concept, but instead of charging you by the weight of your meal, you pay a flat rate and get to go back as many times as you want. For $12 ($8.50 at lunch), you take your bowl, fill it with whatever meat, noodles, and vegetables you want, add your own sauces, then watch the cooks grill it. Pretty cool, especially considering one bowl cost me about $20 at Mongolie Grill (and it was a small bowl too). I've seen $30 bowls too. I went back three times in one visit. If you don't live in a state that has a HuHot yet, it could be worth relocating...

I should stop going to pet stores, they rub on me the wrong way. Don't get me wrong, I love animals. The Petco had lots of cool geckos, lizards, snakes, etc. It's the people aspect that drives me nuts. People who treat their pets like children should be spayed or neutered themselves to prevent passing on their genes. Granted, there are people who are doing the world a favor by having pets instead of children, but I digress. There was a display of car magnets by the checkout, most of which I could respect. The usual "I love dogs" or "I love my cat"... but this one?!?
Grandogs?!? By Hades' armpits, who came up with this one?! Congratulations, you've taken pet parenting to a whole new depth of stupidity! So, either your child(ren) have dogs that you count as grandkids, or you have dogs who had puppies and you kept those as well because you could sooner give away your own child than one of the puppies. Either way, it's not looking good for you. The first option is probably the most depressing as you have already passed on the stupidity gene to the next generation...

These?
You've got to know I'll have issues with this... Edible greeting/birthday cards for your dog. You know Lassie can't read, right? Right? What am I saying... If you're dumb enough to have purchased a card for your dog, you probably read it to him. Oh look Mr. Muffins, it says "Just bePaws I love you". Isn't that sweet? Not only do dogs not read, they don't get the subtleties of the English language and a play on words. Also, do you give him birthday cards every year, or are you a diehard who follows the 7:1 dog year ratio and give wondermutt a card every 52 days?

I thought this was good too. This little gem is on the front doors at TJ Maxx. This could be a contributing factor to the decline in the American economy. I don't want to come across as overly negative here, but let's face it, this was not your brightest moment. I wanted to watch for a while to see how many confused customers stood at the door debating on whether they could in fact enter or not, but then I realized those who can read, don't. I'd be curious to know how many people (including staff) actually noticed this...

Monday, July 5, 2010

My New Nemesis

So it turns out my brain isn't bouncing back as quickly as I'd like. My concentration isn't anywhere near what it used to be. For example, the other day I went upstairs to get the flashlight so I could do some work in a poorly lit area of the basement. Got up to the kitchen and couldn't remember what I was looking for. Went back downstairs. Hmm, it's dark over here, I was going to get the flashlight. Back upstairs... crap, what was I looking for again? Back downstairs, oh yeah, the flashlight. Back upstairs (need the flashlight, need the flashlight...), flashlight is in the bedroom. Whew...

Let me introduce you to my new nemesis...
That's right... Simon, and all the variations on the theme. I just picked up the Disney/Pixar Cars game for the DS. One of the mini-games is watching the pattern of blinking lights and then repeating it. it starts with a few 3-light sequences, then 4 lights, and I'm toast at 5 lights. I had to get Trevor to do the level for me so the game would let me continue.

I know I used to be able to do these, because the Clone Wars DS game has a similar mini-game (but with blinking planets), and I was able to do an 8-item sequence. As a side note, how bad is it that my base-line comparison involves various DS mini-games? I do a little better on the real Simon because it uses the same pattern and builds on it (eg. A, AB, ABC, ABCD,...) where the DS games are random sequences (eg. A, CA, ADB, DCBA, etc...). On the 5-item sequence, I can't hold on to the first (or sometimes the second) item long enough to repeat it back.

I keep telling myself that the doc says I shouldn't be alarmed and I need to give myself time to recover fully. If I'm not getting better by about 8 weeks post-accident, then he says we'll talk about the next step. So, I guess I'll try playing the game again in early August to see if there has been any improvement...

Worst-case scenario, what's so bad about not being able to play Simon? Well, if I understand it correctly, it means my working (or short-term) memory isn't running on all thrusters. A normal person can handle seven items. Without improvement, this means I can't hold onto a phone number long enough to use it. And phone numbers typically require a high degree of accuracy. You can't miss one or two numbers and still get the person you intended to call.

This might just be me over-reacting because I have a couple years of university psychology, but it's still very frustrating...

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Crappy Customer Service: Our New Social Norm??

A social norm is one of those unspoken rules which everyone expects everyone else to automatically know and observe. One of the easiest ways to tell what is a social norm is by observing people's reactions when you break one. There is no manual or rule book which tells you not to talk to the person in the restroom stall next to you, or that you shouldn't let your child(ren) run loose and unsupervised in a restaurant, but if you try it you'll notice a change in behavior which tells you there is a norm violation in progress. Try facing the back of a crowded elevator instead of the front, see how people react.

I would like to suggest that crappy customer service, at least in the Quick Service industry, is one of our new social norms. Think about it, when you go into a fast food restaurant, what are your expectations of the quality of service? It seems for the vast majority, as long as we get what we ordered in a reasonable amount of time and the staff aren't actively trying to drive us away, we're usually content with the transaction.

Allow me to demonstrate with an example. Last night, I went out to McDonald's (because it was right next to the hotel where I was staying). The owner was running the till and taking customer orders. I was very surprised to see him actually making conversation (or trying in some cases) with customers as they waited for their orders to be filled. What was even more surprising was how many people reacted as though this was a huge inconvenience. All the classic non-verbal cues were there to indicate this man was violating an established norm. They would back up a bit, increasing their personal "no-fly zone", give looks of annoyance, avert/avoid eye contact... When they did answer, it was with very short responses, many times with quasi-grunted "uh-huh" or "uh-uh".

Has the service level in the fast food industry been so poor for so long that we as customers just expect it to suck? As part of an informal survey, I recently walked around a mall food court to see how many of the staff were smiling. Out of around 12-15 outlets, only one staff member smiled. The body language of the customers was quite revealing as well. They didn't act disappointed or offended, but rather showed signs of accepting the behavior.

As consumers, I fear we are the frogs who were boiled alive without resisting. As long as the water temperature is turned up gradually and we are given time to adjust, we just sit there until it is too late. We don't really realize just how bad the service has become until we find those rare examples of great service. Have we just given up in expecting to be treated as a valued customer, or have we become aclimatized to the point we don't even realize how poorly we're being treated?

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

My New Ride

It's been about two and a half weeks since the accident and the insurance company was very quick to get us the payout on the car. I went in to Murray Chev in Lethbridge and talked to Bruce about a new vehicle after doing some research online. The service was outstanding, if you're in Southern Alberta and looking for a vehicle I'd highly recommend paying them a visit

Originally, we had been trying to decide between an Impala and an Equinox. After I got a chance to actually sit in one, I immediately decided in favor of the Equinox. It has all the safety features we were looking for and is very comfortable inside. I will never buy another vehicle without OnStar...

Here it is in our driveway. I thought I should get a picture of it while it was still clean... Yah, it's "only" a 4 cylinder engine, but there's only 80hp difference between this and the V6. Since I'm not going to be towing anything, that's not a big deal. It also gets about 10mpg better fuel economy than does the V6, which had more impact on the decision making process. When you drive between 1550 and 1860 miles each month, that adds up to about 10-12 gallons saved each month (37-45 liters), and with fuel closing in on $1/liter again, that adds up.

Here's a shot of the dash. The telescoping wheel is awesome and reduces a lot of arm strain (for me, anyway). Controls on the steering wheel for cruise and the stereo. There is a USB plug in the center arm rest console where I can plug in my iPod. I can then control the iPod from the steering wheel, which is very handy for all the time I spend on the road. I can skip forward or backward in the playlist without taking my hands off the wheel. It took me a while to figure out that the power door lock buttons were below the environmental control buttons in the center, but I found them eventually. The childlock button for the rear doors is also in the center, which I think is a great idea.

Another great feature is the Bluetooth connection (for phones or GPS). As soon as I start the engine, the car recognizes my phone so when a call comes in, the stereo turns off and the fan goes to low so I can take the call (by pressing the phone button on the steering wheel). The stereo display also shows me the incoming phone number, way cool.

The digital display panel in the center of the drive console can show all kinds of useful information, like a digital speedometer, two trip meters, compass info, even a drive timer.
Plenty of storage space in the back. the seats can slide forward up to 8", so even the passengers can have leg room (I even sat in the back to make sure). In fact, this is the first car I remember driving where I've been able to comfortably slide the seat forward. The seat goes up quite a ways too, as Dawn found out. This is without a doubt the most comfortable car I've driven. The visibility is also very good. One of my complaints about the Aura (may it rest in peace) was the rear-view mirror could (and did) hide a whole car at an intersection because it was so low on the windshield.

Anyhow, I'll be putting on around 1800km's in the next two weeks, so I'll have a good chance to break it in on the road. And sure enough, the day after I pick up my car, the new 2011 models come out. Oh well, doesn't look like they changed a lot...

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Happy Father's Day Babe

It's that time of year again... all the commercials for power tools and barbeque gadgets, trying to convince consumers that somehow they will be a disappointment to their fathers if they don't buy them the best gadget or gizmo out there. A thought hit me while I was watching the bazillionth Fathers' Day commercial: aside from the techy stuff, every single one of these commercials is something that Dawn would love.

Barbeque stuff? Don't let me stand in the way of the professional. There's a reason why no one has EVER asked me to cater anything. The kitchen is my kryptonite. If the ingredients aren't already assembled, I will starve to death in a fully-stocked pantry because I can't find anything to eat. I don't see ingredients as means to an end. I look at a bag of flour and think, "I can't eat that." Dawn can take a cup of flour and an egg and make a three-course meal somehow.

Tools? I'm not as completely useless here as I am in the kitchen, and I even picked up a few skills as we finished off the basement last year. I did all the electrical wiring (once Jesse showed me how) and everything worked. Believe me, I tried very hard to hide my surprise when all the outlets and lights worked on the first try. Dawn's resume is much more impressive. She has replaced toilets and fixed various plumbing problems, she bull-floats concrete, she replaced the chadelier in the dining room, installed the garbage disposal in the sink... and the list goes on. The morning coffee crowd at Subway ask me how I keep up with her.

It doesn't bother me at all that a Fathers' Day flier appeals more to Dawn than it does to me, and I don't hear anyone else complaining either. Ever had her BBQ pork ribs or steak? Have you seen what she can do with a cake? There's no loss in having me step aside here...

Monday, May 24, 2010

I Take it All Back

I've never really been a fan of the elliptical machines in the past, and I'm not even sure why. I can assure you my opinion wasn't formed from my exhaustive study into consumer research or the recommendations from trained fitness professionals. I'm pretty sure it came from my observation and misguided assumptions. It looks so easy, how could it give any sort of workout? So when we had the opportunity to "store" one at our house, I was thinking the padded handle bars would make great coat holders.

Last night I put all my exercise gear together and told myself I'd give it a shot first thing in the morning, which apparently is around 9:30. I was up at 6:30, but it took me a while to really get myself into "the zone". Then all the kids decided to gather and make fun of Dad's shorts, or the bright white legs, not really sure which.

The first three minutes were a breeze. At this rate, it's going to take me an hour on this thing to feel like I've done anything.

Then I started to feel my legs... calves complaining a bit, quads grumbling about being tired. By minute 6 (had to check my watch to make sure), I was sure the kids had been playing with the resistance dial and had it cranked up. Nope, still set to 4 (1 being the lowest). Six minutes of cardio, that should be good for the day, right? Five minutes a day on the Ab Rocker is supposed to magically give you chiseled abs (and huge arms too somehow, judging by the commercials).

I can make it to half an hour.

Ten minute mark... fifteen more should be fine. I'm sweating so much, my vision is getting blurry. Memo to me, make sure I have a small towel handy for tomorrow. At this point, I can actually hear the siren call of Heavenly Hash ice cream in the basement.

Fifteen minutes... five more, and I'm good. There's a strange anorexic man wearing a black robe and holding a scythe waiting patiently in the corner. He keeps checking his watch periodically, then looking up at me as if he's late for an appointment...

Sixteen minutes... gah! I'm never going to make it to twenty. Now the guy in the robe is showing a movie... Ahh, there's me as a baby. I was cute back then. There's me in kindergarten... kind of a boring flashback really. Oh, you had to include the peanut butter incident. Was that really necessary?!

Seventeen minutes... Do I call you Mr. Reaper? Grim? Is that even your first name, or is it more of a title? Probably just hoping the scary outfit and outdated farm implement will distract everyone from the fact his name is Eugene or something. He probably became the angel of death to get back at everyone who made fun of him in elementary school.

Eighteen... I, Gary Hamon, being of reasonably sound mind do hereby bequeath my earthly possessions... Who's bright idea was this, anyway? The good news is that my calves aren't complaining anymore. No, they're talking with their union rep about going on strike.

Nineteen... go towards the light! Aunty Em, is that you?

Twenty... Done! I don't remember the floor being quite this wobbly before. We should really get someone in to make sure it's still level. I feel like Tim Conway in that classic dentist sketch where he accidentally jabs his leg with the freezing needle.

So, the elliptical totally kicked my butt. Maybe this is a sign I need to do more physical activity? I guess if you can look back fondly to a day when going up the stairs didn't involve two rest stops on the way, that could be a sign it's time to be more active...

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Here's your sign...

I was in Whitecourt, AB today on a work trip. The "downtown" Subway had a problem with the women's restroom, and even had an "Out of Order" sign posted on the door. As I sat at a near-by table writing out the evaluation report, I amused myself listening to the customers repeatedly ask the staff if the restroom was working. The "out of order" sign wasn't small or hard to see by any means. It was written in English, so there was no language barrier to deal with. Hats off to the staff, they politely told the customers they could use the men's room until the women's was functional again, as opposed to several of the snappy responses they could’ve used.

Those of us who work in the customer service industry know that people, in general, do not read posted signs. You can put signs on the front door, the point of order, and in front of the till indicating the debit/credit machine is down so we can only accept cash and you will still get people who hand you their card. Not just one or two people. No, 60%-70% of them will try to pay with plastic. Then they get mad because "you should've put up a sign or something", at which point I will call their attention to the all posted signs they had to walk past, and I'll do it with a smile. Then the guy behind him will usually try to casually put his card back in his wallet without looking like an idiot.

There’s something about an “out of order” sign that makes people want to test it for themselves to see if the condition has somehow resolved itself since the sign was put up. Put the sign on a fountain pop machine, and sure enough someone will walk away with pop on their hands because they just had to try it. It's a fun game really...

Oh, I forgot to mention a few minor details about this afternoon's experience. The whole time these customers couldn't figure out the operational state of the restroom, the plumber was walking in and out while carrying various tools. When he wasn't going to and from his truck, he was in the restroom using a power snake (sounded like he was drilling through the tiles). The floor in the hallway was covered in water, which was coming from the restroom and there was a nice yellow wet floor stand near the hallway entrance. All that, and people still were asking if the restroom was working. What does it take for people to clue in?

Only in an industrialized society can people get away with this level of inattention. Think about it, if our agrarian ancestors had missed the blatantly obvious clues that the bridge was damaged or there was a predator in the area, natural selection would've quickly taken its course and the stupidity gene would be gradually worked out of the pool. Instead, our society thinks it's somehow rude to tell people they don't have the intelligence of a twenty pound sack of potatoes.

Monday, April 5, 2010

The Votes Are In...

It's official, I'm retarded. Literally, as in to slow, hinder, or impede progress. I seem to have difficulties grasping basic cause and effect relationships in some areas. This is basic conditioning we're working with here, introductary psychology stuff. Dogs and monkeys can do it. Press button A, get food. Press button B, get a shock. Stop pressing button B.

Well, that seems to be too advanced for me to put into practice. I have a pretty good grasp of the theory behind it, but personal practical application seems to still elude me. I keep going through a cycle where I have to stop drinking Barq's Rootbeer (sweet, sweet nectar) because, let's just say it does a number on my digestive system. I stop, pains (etc.) go away. I start again, and in a few days I'm back praying for death. For some reason, I only seem to manage a month or so before I fall off the wagon and am refilling my super insulated 7-11 jug again.

I think the problem is in the reward schedule. If I were to feel like an alien was trying to rip its way out of my chest as soon as I had a drink, I'm sure I would stop very quickly and permanently. But when I have a few days to enjoy my beverage of choice before the pain kicks in, somehow the lesson seems to get lost somewhere along the way.

So, once again I am cutting myself off from Barq's. The really stupid part (oh yeah, it gets worse) is that when I'm "off the bottle", I actually feel better. I drink more water and juice, and I'm not as tired throughout the day. To normal people, a built-in reward system like that would be enough to sustain the new desired behavior. I'll see how long I can make it this time, right after I finish this jug...

Friday, March 12, 2010

Small-town Customer Service

On my way home from Cardston this afternoon, I stopped in at the Extra Foods to pick up some cola for a Mentos demonstration with Trevor. Just in 'n' out, right? Sadly, no...

Why for the love of puppies everywhere did they decide to put the soft drinks on the very back wall?? Seriously, you have to go through all the food, the frozen section, the clothing, the cell phone end-cap, the discount DVDs', the seasonal aisle, the toys, the pet food, pharmacy, paper towels and cleaning products before you get to the pop and snacks. Every other grocery store in the civilized world puts them where people can find them. The holy grail was easier to find than the soft drinks.

I picked up a couple of other things because it's really embarassing putting $3 on my debit card. I walked back to the checkout line and the lady's cart ahead of me was overflowing (things were literally falling out onto the floor). The girl at the checkout obviously enjoyed her job, you could really tell as she looked up with disdain periodically at the rapidly growing line behind me. I don't think working the checkout was her forte (she would lose to a glacier in a footrace). Seriously, if the UPC code is facing you instead of the scanner, it's not going to ring in any time soon. After she had unloaded roughly half the cart, she used the intercomm to call someone else to cash. I should point out that at about 1:30PM, there were more staff in the store than customers. And I would know, having just walked the whole length of the store looking for the soda aisle.

So the express lane opened up, and as I head over some other lady makes a mad dash from the very end of the line with her package of meat and shoots in ahead of me. And why not, it's not like she's been standing in line for five minutes already. The guy at this till wasn't any ray of sunshine either, but he did give me more interaction than any of the other staff had done.

"Do you collect PC points?" he asked, more monotone than the old TV test patterns. Then he pointed to the interac terminal, "Swipe here, stripe towards me." This guy made Keanu Reeves look expressive.

Anyhow, my quick two minute stop turned into just over fifteen minutes, but the wonderful pleasant service made it seem more like an hour...

Sunday, February 28, 2010

It's Over, Finally!!

At least for two years until the summer Olympics and it starts all over again. I don't know why the Olympics rub me the wrong way, but they sure do. Somewhere in the deepest heart of Africa is a big termite mound which holds more interest to me than do the entire Olympic proceedings.

I'm sick of all the hype preceding and during the games. I'm tired of the "get to know your athletes" commercials. I'm disgusted by the amount of money that gets dropped into the whole thing. But, what frosts my hide most is probably the sudden surge of "patriotism" when Canada wins. Case in point, today's men's hockey game between the US and Canada. Whoopty-frikkin-doo. I've heard and read so many comments from people who say they are so proud to be Canadian. Really?? Just because some professional athletes (only two of which actually play in Canada) - who get paid obscene amounts to skate around and hit each other - get together and win a game, and now you're a proud Canadian.

You want to know why I'm proud to be Canadian? You weren't going to ask, but I'll tell you anyway.

1. Fredrick Banting and Charles Best discovered insulin for the treatment of diabetes. Something that actually has an impact on real life.

2. David Hubel and the mapping of the visual cortex in the brain.

3. Willard Boyle developed CCD's (Charged Coupling Device). Huh? These are the little babies which convert light into digital information. Most commonly used in digital cameras, camcorders, and are also used in telescopes.

4. Aug 20, 2009. The world's first simulation-based brain surgery performed in Halifax. Doctor's took an MRI of a patient's brain and were able to rehearse the removal of a tumor before actually operating. Now, complex neurosurgical procedures can be practiced and tailored to specific patients.

Accomplishments like that make me proud to be Canadian, not a bunch of winter sports. Who cares how fast someone can skate, or ski, or ride head-first on a sled down a huge ice track? Want to make an impact with the olympics? Cancel them and put all the money which would've been spent into something useful like cancer research, housing projects for the homeless, solutions to help end hunger, disaster relief efforts...

At least then there'd be something good to watch on TV.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Restoring My Faith in Stupidity

On Saturday, Trevor and I had the great opportunity to see Tory and Grant from Mythbusters (awesome experience, see Dawn's page for more photos). They came to the University of Lethbridge as part of the "Science Happens Here" event hosted by the Science Alberta Foundation. Apparently, the Mythbusters have had a partnership with the Foundation for a few years now. Who knew?

Anyhow, that's not the stupid part. We showed up to the University just after 5:00 because rush seating started at 6:00 for the show at 7:00 and Trevor wasn't about to take any chances (we were 3rd in line). After an hour of Trevor checking my watch every five minutes, they opened the doors and he was off like a greased pig to get seats at the very front. This is a picture of the seating after about thirty minutes:

Now for the stupid part. There were about eight to ten seats in each of the first two rows which were reserved for University staff who were helping with the event (the Chem department put on a really cool opening act). We were on the second row right beside the reserved section, as close to center as we could get. No word of a lie, with the bleachers and floor seating packed (see photo), four or five groups (not just individuals, but groups of 2-3 people) came all the way to the front wanting to sit in the reserved section. Did they honestly think that the best seats in the house were still vacant when nearly every other available seat was taken?!? Did they stand at the very back and think, "Oh look, awesome seats at the front! No one has spotted them yet, I'd better grab them right away!" And since they were groups of 2-3 people, obviously it didn't occur to anyone else in their party that maybe there's a reason the best seats in the building are still available. Trust me, I'm not sitting off to the side out of the kindness of my heart. After the second or third time, I had to remind myself that pointing out the fallacies in their decision-making paradigms would not be setting a good example for my son.

"You're going to need to talk slower, I don't speak Stupid." I don't know why people get offended when they find out they're stupid, but they sure don't seem to appreciate it. Not like it's my fault...

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Not Cut Out for the High Life

I got back from my trip to Miami yesterday (don't get too excited, it was just a business trip). The meetings were good, the hotel was better than average, and for the most part the catered food was pretty good. It occurred to me while I was down there that I would never really do well in fancy social circles if for no other reason than I would starve to death. I'm sure there are other reasons, but this is the only one I need.

The lunch for day one was pretty straight forward. Some steamed veggies, salad, meat, even little fruit tarts for dessert... stuff I could pronounce and actually recognized. The cocktail reception that night was pretty good too. They had mini-hamburgers, ham, turkey with gravy and dressing. This is stuff I could live on quite easily. I stayed clear of the cheese platter because I didn't see anything that even remotely resembled marble or mozzarella, and that's about as adventurous as I get with cheese.

Enter day two lunch. This one was more formal (food came to us instead of us going through the buffet line). Imagine sitting down at a table and being greeted by this:

I wasn't sure what this was, but there wasn't anything on the plate I was about to eat. Apparently, the brown slimy speckled thingy being pinned to the fancy bread (with crunchies in it) by the olive-garnished wooden stake was a mushroom. Mmmm... fungus, my favorite. It reminded me of an alien life form from Star Trek. And the green stuff smeared on the plate, what's with that?? It looked like something pooped on my plate. I could crawl across a barren desert, be within inches of death and that still don't think I could find the desire to eat it. Why do they call it an appetizer if it makes you want to hurl breakfast? Seems counter-productive to me...

The main course was two little pieces of dry chicken and some veggies on the side and a swirl of mashed something-or-other. It's a good thing they had mini garlic bread on the table...

The cocktail reception that night had some good stuff, but you had to look hard for it.

This stuff was labeled and I still didn't have a clue what it was. Turns out I don't need to know what it is to know I don't want to touch it. "Spoon Bloody Mary Ceviche with Baby Rock Shrimp". I can figure out the spoon and shrimp part, but not too sure what makes it a Bloody Mary. And what the heck is Ceviche anyway?

"Rare Sesame Seared Tuna with Wasabi Mayonnaise". I don't like cooked tuna, so advertising it as rare does absolutely nothing for me. I don't even do my steaks rare. As Grandpa Wynder used to say, "I've seen cows hurt worse that lived." And isn't 'wasabi' the Japanese word for "kill me now because it's burning a hole through my cheek"? I have a freakishly low tolerance for hot spices, so this is definitely off the menu for me. I think that's nature's way of compensating for my immunity to "freezer brain" when eating ice cream. And honestly, if I had to choose between being able to eat hot spices or ice cream, you'll find me curled up with my 2.5 gallon tub of Tiger and a spoon.

I also noticed there is an inverse correlation between the "fancy level" of a restaurant and the portion size of the food. For clarification, fast-food restaurants are excempt from this observation, I'm talking about places which bring the food to you. A good restaurant will give you healthy portions, but an up-scale restaurant brings out servings that could starve a hamster. I can't figure out why people pay so much for so little food.

I guess I just wasn't built for "high society", which is just fine with me. I'm of the opinion that culinary evolution reached its pinacle with steak and potatoes. That's fine dining in my book.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Should I Call You?

Ever since the airline bomb scare a few weeks ago, everyone has been talking about all the increased airport security. I went to the Calgary airport yesterday at 6:00AM so I could be there in time for my 8:00 flight. I stood in line to check in my baggage at the front counter, and when it was finally my turn I found out I'd been standing in the wrong line. This was the line for direct-to-USA flights. That counter over there was the one for connecting flights, such as mine. Yah, that one with absolutely no line whatsoever. That would be the one.

I have to say Canadian security was business as usual, and I inadvertently discovered that my Bluetooth earpiece can go through the scanner with me without setting off the alarm. 6:35 AM, great... now I only have an hour to kill before boarding. Weehee.

Fast-forward a few hours and I'm in Toronto picking up my luggage at the US-connections gate. Went through customs and then off to the security screening. I was a little nervous when I saw the full-body imaging machine, but it wasn't being used so I relaxed (they may have still been installing it, judging by the way it was all blocked off). Took off my shoes and took the laptop out of the bag, and US security wasn't any worse than Canadian security. They did run the little swab-thingy on my laptop, but they've done that on the Canadian side too. All the hype must've been for nothing.

I still have about 20 minutes before boarding, so I make my way down to the wing where my departure gate is. Then I saw this:


Two words which bring joy and laughter to air travelers everywhere...



Oh good, this should be fun... and look, my turn already. I made my way over to the table and had to take my laptop out and turn it on again while a security agent went through the contents of my laptop bag. I think she was impressed by the Star Wars cover on my DS and the blue lightsaber stylus. That's cool no matter where you live...

Meanwhile, her partner was putting on a fresh pair of rubber gloves. The blue ones, that's nice. I hear they don't rub as bad as the white ones do. Fortunately for me it's just a pat-down. As he spends a little too much time at second base, two thoughts go through my mind. First, I REALLY need to do more push-ups because I seem to be getting a little soft in the upper chest. And second, the reason they're not using the imaging scanner back there is because go-go Gadget Hands here enjoys his job far too much. I don't know much about dating in the East Indian culture, but here in the west there's usually a dinner involved before moving on to this much fondling. I understand the need for security, but could you at least not smile so much while you're frisking me?

When he was done and she gave me the go-ahead to put my laptop away, I really wanted to say something smart, but decided against it. I complain sometimes about my social filter getting in the way, but this time I'm pretty sure it saved me from the "private screening" room. Besides, he probably hasn't seen Fletch and would've missed references about Dr. Jellyfingers or Moon River. I, on the other hand, found it a little humorous.

I really wanted to ask if I should bring anything when I come through again on Monday... Maybe a Barry White CD? Flowers?

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

You Have GOT to be Kidding Me!

I saw something today on my lunch break that reaffirmed my dislike of small dogs (not that it really needed any more support). I had to pick up some supplies at WalMart and they had this little gem on the end caps near the check-outs...


Seriously?!? A Snuggie for pets?!? I'm going to let all you "pet parents" in on a little secret. Gather 'round, because this could change your life. Are you ready? Pen and paper in hand? Your little precious...

...IS COVERED WITH HAIR!!!

And do you know why Toto looks like a hairball with feet? No, it's not to bring out the color in his eyes. It's to keep the little waste of space warm.

I like how the box mentions that the snuggie "keeps you warm and your paws free!" Isn't that sweet... Here's a little gem for the folks in marketing. Sure, Lassie might be a genius at telling someone little Timmy got caught in the wood chipper, but that doesn't mean he's going to be reading the box any time soon. And why is it so important to have his paws free anyway? "If only I could get my paws out of this blanket, then I could use the remote and change the channel." For anyone who walked past and thought this would be something nice for your dog, I'm going out on a limb to say you also give presents to your dog for Christmas and birthdays, don't you. Come on, admit it... you even wrapped them.

I'm sorry, but if the little hairball needs a snuggie to keep it warm, you should probably take it to the vet and have it put down now. Trust me, you'll be doing it a favor. Imagine dressing up your little boy and sending him to school wearing a pink tutu. I'm pretty sure this is the equivalent for dogs. All the other dogs are making fun of your little mutt in the snuggie. Notice the dog in the corner inset with the "shoot me now" look... I don't know if you've seen those "I'd rather go naked than wear fur" ads, but they make me wonder what these dogs would rather be doing than wearing "the blanket coat with sleeves".

For hundreds of years, dogs have somehow managed to keep themselves warm without human intervention. Now people have pets instead of children and figure the little pooch needs a sweater or a blanket with sleeves in order to stay cozy. At the risk of sounding cold, let natural selection take its course. If your little puddle maker can't survive without wearing a snuggie, maybe that's nature's way of improving the gene pool.