It's that time again.
Time to take to the streets, hit the stores, crawl the malls, and search high and low for the perfect gift for your significant other, parent, or offspring. Plus some not-so-perfect gifts for the family-adjacents and six-degrees-of-separation relatives who are nonetheless too close to be placated with a generic card from Dollar Tree. Not to mention the great deals that will end up in your gift closet for unexpected guests and birthdays throughout the year (full disclosure: no way am I that organized!).
Oh, and it's also time to buy yet another round of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, yams, pies, and...hey, wait a sec. Didn't we just do this last month? Yep, but there aren't enough leftovers to feed the crowd we're expecting, so...yeah, this is happening again.
Yes, once again, it is time to go Christmas shopping. And as you go, you will encounter many other people who are doing exactly the same thing.
(BTW...if anyone reading this is Jewish...how do you folks manage with Hanukkah? One day out of the year is grueling enough--but eight nights? Sorry, but consider this shikseh's mind completely boggled...)
And as you make your hunter/gatherer way through any given store, you will most likely encounter...a sales clerk. That's the person who tells you where you can find the cordless shavers, points the way to the restrooms, and takes your cash or processes your plastic. Not to mention wrapping that special something so your Little Angel doesn't realize she's getting the Giganto Lincoln Logs Barrel for Christmas (she whispered it to Santa, but you were close enough to hear).
Now, as I said at the beginning of this blog, my job title is menial. But mine is a small outfit, so at busy times of the year, it's Whoop! Whoop! All hands, battle stations! Especially Christmas. And though I am very knowledgeable about our store after (censored) years of working there, there are still things that I may not know. And any temps hired are probably going to be a little iffy about store layout, return policies, gift wrapping, or other procedures. And all of us are being pulled in several directions by different simultaneous customers and tasks. This can be enormously frustrating for shoppers. I--we--understand that.
But you know what doesn't help? Yelling at us. Especially if it's something that isn't our fault, like if we run out of a popular item 25 minutes after we opened the doors on Black Friday. Or if it's something unreasonable, like when we're asked to gift wrap an item you bought from our competition. Or if it's an act of God, like (heaven forbid) a network crash that has us hauling out the old hand-held credit card machines and hoping that somebody remembers where we stored the carbons that go with them.
And if it's something we can do something about, like exchanging a coat for a different size or correcting the price on an item that is supposed to be on sale, a normal voice and your mother's politeness words will get things done much more effectively than your anger.
So sorry, yelling won't accomplish a thing...except to raise everybody's blood pressure and turn nearly every clerk you meet into a Grinch. And if an earlier customer has already tried yelling at the clerk you are now angry at, the Grinchiness only gets worse. I have a lot of clerks as friends and acquaintances, and it's the same every season: they all gird their loins and grit their teeth and do their best to exude sparkles and brightness...and when Christmas is over, they all look like they were run through an industrial taffy-pulling machine. (Yes, me too...it usually takes me until Epiphany to recover.)
This, mind you, is when we make it through without yelling back at a customer. Or making a snarky remark just loud enough for them to hear. Or completely breaking down and screaming like the female lead in a horror movie. Clerks who do any of those things usually disappear--either to the boss's office for a reprimand, or permanently.
Ah, I hear a customer somewhere saying, "Huh. Serves them right."
Fair enough. But...I wonder, do customers ever realize that we, too, are human beings? That being harangued, abused, or yelled at should not be part of our jobs as service personnel? That if they keep calm and have a little patience, they will make it out of the store with their parcels and gift receipts and such? In short: If workers have no right to yell at customers, then they, in turn, have no right to yell at us.
(And speaking of social media...If a worker were ever to disrespect a customer online, he would be fired if he were caught. Yet customers feel perfectly free to name names or describe workers and tell out their sins for the entire Internet to hear. That's miles away from a bad review on Yelp; it's just plain vicious.)
What I'm really saying here is, show some respect. It's our job to help you, and really, we like you and want to help you. So please...help make our holidays merry by smiling at us, even if we don't smile back. (That cashier is sweating bullets because you just handed him 18 hundred-dollar bills to pay for your husband's new high-end power tools, and his authenticator pen just ran out of juice, and where is that floater with a new one from Supplies?!) And by not being offended if we don't use the approved farewell for your religion's holiday. (Should we just name them all and hope one of them creates happiness?) Oh, and remember those politeness words! (We love to hear them, especially from little kids!)
Be kind. Be polite. We'll do the same. Deal?
Great. Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and Happy Kwanzaa! Hope I didn't miss anybody... :)
Sunday, December 9, 2018
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Ursula: A Celebration
One of my favorite authors died this year, and I just found out.
And it wasn't even recently--it was all the way back in January that Ursula K. Le Guin passed away. But I'm not fully wired in to the 24-hour news cycle, and since a daily paper now costs roughly the same price that I used to pay for a paperback book...well, is it any wonder I sailed through this year in blissful ignorance?
By any measure, Le Guin was awesome. She wrote well and she lived well, and kept doing both pretty much until she died. Her writing produces (at least in me) a sort of "woke hypnosis"--I finish a story of hers, and find myself hyper-alert to the doings in the world around me, rather than zoned out and daydreaming. Nothing wrong with a trip up into the ozone, but we all need a good, gentle shake-up now and then. Ursula was just the lady to do it.
And her life? Well, she knew several languages, and translated a number of literary works into English, and wrote poetry and non-fiction as well as the fiction she is best-known for. And she was married to the same man--Charles Le Guin--until she died; they had three children. Along with this, she was a feminist--not one of the militant ones who carried signs advising women to go on strike against their husbands, but the sort who thought that if women wanted to go out and do something, they should just get out and do it, no histrionics necessary. She opposed the Vietnam War, the ugliness being wrought by misuse and abuse of the environment, and fascism of any stripe (this often showed up in her stories). Also, she was a Taoist. Maybe that's why she seems so gentle; the Tao is just as much about not doing as it is about doing...perhaps more so.
So yeah, I'll miss Ursula. But rather than mourn or weep, I think I'll just introduce you to a few of my favorite Le Guin stories and novels, and you can see for yourself what I mean....
The Lathe of Heaven
Hands down, my favorite novel. A man, George Orr, has the ability to change the entire universe when he dreams, and the ability terrifies him so badly that he fraudulently acquires prescription drugs to try to keep from dreaming at all. Caught and sent to a dream specialist for therapy, his ability is discovered, both by the doctor, William Haber, and by a female lawyer named Heather Lelache whom Orr hires to make sure Haber isn't monkeying around with his head. Of course, Haber is doing just that--he's convinced that if he guides Orr's special dreams, the world can be made a better place. But there's always a dark side to those "improvements," as George tries to warn Haber--like overpopulation being solved by a pollution-spawned plague, or racial tensions disappearing because everyone in the world is, and always has been, gray-skinned. I can't really say more without spoilers. Read it, and you'll get what I mean. There were two movies made of this book; the best one is the PBS adaptation from 1981.
The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas
This story is based on a very simple premise: a perfect society which is only perfect because a single person is continually made to suffer. If you knew about this single sufferer, and knew that the only reason you get to have such a wonderful life is that this person is suffering--and worse, any attempt by you to alleviate that suffering would destroy the entire society--what would you do? Would you look, and then go on with your life; go ahead and rescue the scapegoat, society be hanged; or...would you walk away? Despite crediting the idea to William James, Le Guin says that the real inspiration came from a half-remembered reading of Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and from reading a road sign backwards (the road sign in question I leave as an exercise for the student).
The Dispossessed
Subtitled "An Ambiguous Utopia," this is one of Le Guin's most famous novels. Its Odonian society on the semi-arid moon called Anarres is modeled on the real-world concept of pacifistic anarchism, in which all cooperate for the good of the entire society. It isn't Communism, for there is no central state; if an Odonian wants to get something new going, he just finds a group of like-minded people and forms a syndicate. But what if what you want is to do physics...a kind of physics that needs data from Anarres' sister world Urras, rejected long ago by the Odonians? On this, the entire plot hangs; there are triumphs, conflicts, culture shock, and eventually homesickness. Odonian society is a sort of anti-Ayniverse, but it's not perfect. Ursula warned us right up front, remember?
Changing Planes
Airports suck.
We all know it. Confusion, long waits, missed connections, security hold-ups, horrible food...and all this was before some crazy thought it was the will of Allah to crash passenger airliners into buildings!
But what if all that misery could be put to use? As in, to help you really get away from it all? According to Sita Dulip of Cincinnati, the proper miserific state, plus a "slipping twist and a bend," will enable you to go somewhere else entirely--a bright, tropical paradise like Djeyo, or the perfect world of the Nna Mmoy, whose language is so complex it's like an evolving life-form, or Hegn, where everybody is royal and the one family of commoners are celebrities.
What a fun idea! Which is why this is my favorite collection of Le Guin's short stories. One of them in particular, "Great Joy," is a Christmas tradition for me--its undertone of satire, plus the hilarious dialect given to Cousin Sulie, plus the ironic ending...it doesn't sound very Christmas-y, but trust me, it is...at least, the way most Americans celebrate it...
Sur
Nine South American women mount an expedition to Antarctica, "to go, to see"...and to reach the South Pole if they can. They don't want fame; they just want to see if they can do it. And in order not to bring unwanted fame or embarrassment to their families (or disappoint any explorers that come after them), they keep their accomplishments a complete secret, except for some documents and maps hidden in a few South American attics! It's not a haphazard undertaking, and all the women are well-off, which, along with the backing of an unnamed benefactor, grants them the freedom to do such a seemingly-crazy thing. Altogether a wonderful story of the triumph of the sisterhood...feminism, Le Guin-style.
It would be cool if the U.N. could agree to give one of the mountains in Antarctica a name from the ladies' maps in this story--you know, as a way to honor Ursula. I would be thrilled to see real maps with an Antarctic mountain called "Bolivar's Big Nose." Or what about "Throne of Our Lady of the Southern Cross"? Is there a U.N. committee that oversees these things? Let's get a letter campaign going!
Catwings
A series for children about a strange mutation that produces a litter of kittens who have wings and can fly! Of course, there are grownups who want to exploit the Catwings, but the bad guys get thwarted by some kids, who take the Catwings out to a farm where the kittens will be safe (although the mice certainly won't be...).
There were four books in the series: Catwings, Catwings Return, Wonderful Alexander And the Catwings, and Jane On Her Own.
And, there you have it...
Just a few of the great writings of Ursula K. Le Guin. Go find a book shop at once...an indie one if you can. You'll have better luck finding her works there. Hey, you might even find a first-edition copy of Rocannon's World.
Enjoy!
And it wasn't even recently--it was all the way back in January that Ursula K. Le Guin passed away. But I'm not fully wired in to the 24-hour news cycle, and since a daily paper now costs roughly the same price that I used to pay for a paperback book...well, is it any wonder I sailed through this year in blissful ignorance?
By any measure, Le Guin was awesome. She wrote well and she lived well, and kept doing both pretty much until she died. Her writing produces (at least in me) a sort of "woke hypnosis"--I finish a story of hers, and find myself hyper-alert to the doings in the world around me, rather than zoned out and daydreaming. Nothing wrong with a trip up into the ozone, but we all need a good, gentle shake-up now and then. Ursula was just the lady to do it.
And her life? Well, she knew several languages, and translated a number of literary works into English, and wrote poetry and non-fiction as well as the fiction she is best-known for. And she was married to the same man--Charles Le Guin--until she died; they had three children. Along with this, she was a feminist--not one of the militant ones who carried signs advising women to go on strike against their husbands, but the sort who thought that if women wanted to go out and do something, they should just get out and do it, no histrionics necessary. She opposed the Vietnam War, the ugliness being wrought by misuse and abuse of the environment, and fascism of any stripe (this often showed up in her stories). Also, she was a Taoist. Maybe that's why she seems so gentle; the Tao is just as much about not doing as it is about doing...perhaps more so.
So yeah, I'll miss Ursula. But rather than mourn or weep, I think I'll just introduce you to a few of my favorite Le Guin stories and novels, and you can see for yourself what I mean....
The Lathe of Heaven
Hands down, my favorite novel. A man, George Orr, has the ability to change the entire universe when he dreams, and the ability terrifies him so badly that he fraudulently acquires prescription drugs to try to keep from dreaming at all. Caught and sent to a dream specialist for therapy, his ability is discovered, both by the doctor, William Haber, and by a female lawyer named Heather Lelache whom Orr hires to make sure Haber isn't monkeying around with his head. Of course, Haber is doing just that--he's convinced that if he guides Orr's special dreams, the world can be made a better place. But there's always a dark side to those "improvements," as George tries to warn Haber--like overpopulation being solved by a pollution-spawned plague, or racial tensions disappearing because everyone in the world is, and always has been, gray-skinned. I can't really say more without spoilers. Read it, and you'll get what I mean. There were two movies made of this book; the best one is the PBS adaptation from 1981.
The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas
This story is based on a very simple premise: a perfect society which is only perfect because a single person is continually made to suffer. If you knew about this single sufferer, and knew that the only reason you get to have such a wonderful life is that this person is suffering--and worse, any attempt by you to alleviate that suffering would destroy the entire society--what would you do? Would you look, and then go on with your life; go ahead and rescue the scapegoat, society be hanged; or...would you walk away? Despite crediting the idea to William James, Le Guin says that the real inspiration came from a half-remembered reading of Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and from reading a road sign backwards (the road sign in question I leave as an exercise for the student).
The Dispossessed
Subtitled "An Ambiguous Utopia," this is one of Le Guin's most famous novels. Its Odonian society on the semi-arid moon called Anarres is modeled on the real-world concept of pacifistic anarchism, in which all cooperate for the good of the entire society. It isn't Communism, for there is no central state; if an Odonian wants to get something new going, he just finds a group of like-minded people and forms a syndicate. But what if what you want is to do physics...a kind of physics that needs data from Anarres' sister world Urras, rejected long ago by the Odonians? On this, the entire plot hangs; there are triumphs, conflicts, culture shock, and eventually homesickness. Odonian society is a sort of anti-Ayniverse, but it's not perfect. Ursula warned us right up front, remember?
Changing Planes
Airports suck.
We all know it. Confusion, long waits, missed connections, security hold-ups, horrible food...and all this was before some crazy thought it was the will of Allah to crash passenger airliners into buildings!
But what if all that misery could be put to use? As in, to help you really get away from it all? According to Sita Dulip of Cincinnati, the proper miserific state, plus a "slipping twist and a bend," will enable you to go somewhere else entirely--a bright, tropical paradise like Djeyo, or the perfect world of the Nna Mmoy, whose language is so complex it's like an evolving life-form, or Hegn, where everybody is royal and the one family of commoners are celebrities.
What a fun idea! Which is why this is my favorite collection of Le Guin's short stories. One of them in particular, "Great Joy," is a Christmas tradition for me--its undertone of satire, plus the hilarious dialect given to Cousin Sulie, plus the ironic ending...it doesn't sound very Christmas-y, but trust me, it is...at least, the way most Americans celebrate it...
Sur
Nine South American women mount an expedition to Antarctica, "to go, to see"...and to reach the South Pole if they can. They don't want fame; they just want to see if they can do it. And in order not to bring unwanted fame or embarrassment to their families (or disappoint any explorers that come after them), they keep their accomplishments a complete secret, except for some documents and maps hidden in a few South American attics! It's not a haphazard undertaking, and all the women are well-off, which, along with the backing of an unnamed benefactor, grants them the freedom to do such a seemingly-crazy thing. Altogether a wonderful story of the triumph of the sisterhood...feminism, Le Guin-style.
It would be cool if the U.N. could agree to give one of the mountains in Antarctica a name from the ladies' maps in this story--you know, as a way to honor Ursula. I would be thrilled to see real maps with an Antarctic mountain called "Bolivar's Big Nose." Or what about "Throne of Our Lady of the Southern Cross"? Is there a U.N. committee that oversees these things? Let's get a letter campaign going!
Catwings
A series for children about a strange mutation that produces a litter of kittens who have wings and can fly! Of course, there are grownups who want to exploit the Catwings, but the bad guys get thwarted by some kids, who take the Catwings out to a farm where the kittens will be safe (although the mice certainly won't be...).
There were four books in the series: Catwings, Catwings Return, Wonderful Alexander And the Catwings, and Jane On Her Own.
And, there you have it...
Just a few of the great writings of Ursula K. Le Guin. Go find a book shop at once...an indie one if you can. You'll have better luck finding her works there. Hey, you might even find a first-edition copy of Rocannon's World.
Enjoy!
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