Posted on June 13, 2015 under Storytelling with one comment

Banding together

 

 

If you`re a Maritimer, there is nothing that is more anticipated than the first feed of lobster as the season opens.

The date and time was set for the feast … a family affair.  The time was a key factor as this family was schooled on several principles; none more important than punctuality.  They were to convene promptly at 6:00 P.M.

Someone is always tasked with the job of procuring the lobsters.  A family member who had just arrived from the West Coast went to one of the local lobster vendors, only to find that it was now a distribution centre and no longer a retail outlet.  Because there was no time to go to one of the many area wharves, he decided to check one of the large grocery chains.  He had been told that the quality of product was every bit as good as if you cooked them yourself down on the beach.  And only a little bit pricier.

At 3 P.M. he arrived at the grocery store and placed the order at the fish counter: 20 market lobsters, hot and juicy.  The staffer assured him that they would be ready at 5:45 sharp.  He was soon to find out that business is conducted a little differently in small town Canada than in a major city.

At precisely 5:40 he was in front of the fish counter.  “I’m here to pick up the 20 lobsters that I ordered earlier this afternoon.” He announced.   “I’m sorry.  We only have the first ten cooked.  There was a staff change at 5:30 and somehow things got a bit mixed up” was the response.   Our trusty purchaser heaved a small sigh at the ineptitude and went out to the parking lot to bide his time.

By 6 PM he was once again in the now familiar spot.  Three plastic bags full of warm crustaceans were handed over and, all of a sudden, the fifteen minute delay didn’t seem all that bad.

Knowing that he would be transporting more than 30 pounds to the cashier, he had secured a shopping cart.  He had scarcely reached the fruit and vegetable section when he noticed that a trail of water was seeping from the bags onto the floor.  He did a quick U-turn and asked the folks tending to the lobsters to double bag them for safe delivery.

Meanwhile, back at the homestead, folks were looking at their watches as they fully expected the lobsters to have arrived promptly at 6:10.  When the clock turned to 6:11, all in the room knew that there was a problem.

He arrived at the lineup for the cashier.  Blessedly there was only one person in front of him.  The bad news was that, despite double bagging, water continued to drain from the bags onto the floor.  It was more than a trickle and suddenly there was a small puddle in the aisle, creating a hazard for any unsuspecting customer coming behind.  Thinking quickly, a trait he had honed as a corporate lawyer, he grabbed an adjacent candy bar rack and used it to block further access to the cashier’s counter.

The one person lineup quickly dispersed and it was then just our buyer, the lobsters and a slightly disinterested clerk.  “There’s a problem with these bags and there’s quite a bit of water on the floor.” His remark was met with indifference as he placed the three bags of lobsters on the counter.  “I think you should call somebody to clean up the water on the floor because someone could slip and fall.”  She picked up the phone and paged a colleague.  He was on break.

By now the water was starting to run over the counter toward the open till.  Alarmed, and growing more frustrated by the minute, he said, “Ma’am, I think you really need to get someone here immediately to deal with this.  Without looking up, she enquired, “Do you collect Air Miles?”   He was tempted to hand her a lobster to scan.

His ordeal finally over, he strode quickly to the vehicle that he had borrowed from his brother and dropped the three bags into the trunk.

It was close to 6:20, exactly 35 minutes later than planned, when he arrived at the family home.  He opened the trunk and, much to his chagrin, discovered that despite the double bagging (and a string of profanities); lobster juice covered the trunk floor.  It was sunny and 20 degrees at the time.  Only a Maritimer can describe the smell of fetid lobster juice.

He trudged up the steps and was met at the door with a healthy dose of ribbing for his tardiness.

He dropped the three bags of lobsters on the veranda, quickly checked his travel itinerary home, and started to hum a few bars of “Farewell to Nova Scotia”.

Posted on June 10, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Give us this day our daily bread

 

 

“Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married …”

Chapel of Love – Phil Spector

June has arrived and hearts are aflutter; it is wedding season in Nova Scotia.

A beautiful love story has unfolded in Antigonish as a middle aged couple prepare for their nuptials.  Marrying later in life is not all that uncommon as we see couples in their 70s and 80s tying the knot with increasing frequency.  A story in our provincial paper some months ago about a couple “walking hand in hand through life” evoked an incredible response.  They are a fixture in our community and can be seen strolling “The Main” just about every day of the year.  It is obvious to even the most casual observer that they are very much in love.

When first interviewed, they mentioned that they hoped to be married in a couple of years once they were able to save up enough money.  This caught the eye of a few people and a tsunami of generosity sprung forth.  Soon Marilyn and Austin will walk down the aisle of St. Ninian’s Cathedral with the support and love of an entire community.

I am far from an expert on love but, after thirty three years of wedded bliss (?!), I do have some insights about the delicate balancing act that we call marriage.

Over a long period of time, you learn to read signals and body language.  The rolling of eyes is a dead giveaway that something is not quite 100%.  Besides the non-verbal cues, there are many practical things that can carry a marriage a long way.

Some of these things are blatantly obvious.  Don’t attempt to do drywall together.  Never ask your partner to give you directions while driving through Los Angeles.  Always put the toilet seat down.  Make absolutely certain that there is a fresh cup of coffee waiting first thing in the morning.  These are no-brainers.

But I am here to tell you, in no uncertain terms, that the key to a successful marriage is a four slice toaster.

We all know what mornings look like.  Most of us stagger around just trying to acknowledge the dawning of a new day.  Hair is tousled and breath is probably not of the “minty fresh” variety.  One or more body parts hurt and conversations are typically guttural and monosyllabic.  You get the picture.  Most times, you just try and give each other a wide berth until the caffeine kicks in.

We had a two slice toaster when we were first married.  And, if my memory serves me correctly, that lasted all of one week.  Who gets to use the toaster first as you stumble around the kitchen wiping the sleep from your eyes?  Chivalry has its place but, when it comes to the toaster, I’m an “equal opportunity” kind of guy.  We quickly discovered that a four slicer was imperative and over the years, we have had some of our more meaningful discussions while waiting for the toast to pop.

I know which side my bread is buttered on and I plan to keep it that way.

Posted on May 28, 2015 under Storytelling with one comment

What a great place to work.

 

 

“And now, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain…”

My Way – Frank Sinatra

We all know when it’s time to throw out a packaged of processed meat.  (Hint: It’s turning green around the edges and has a distinct hum.)  Milk products are a dead giveaway when they’ve spent a week too long in the fridge.  It’s even worse if the milk was spilled by one of the kids in the back seat of your car and you didn’t have time to clean it properly.   Because you were trying to herd four of them to the grocery store…. during a heat wave.  And it’s not always food.  Sometimes relationships sour like old milk when they’re past their prime.

So when is your “Best Before” date” when it comes to work?  When is the right time to retire or change direction?  I have been pondering this lately as I near the end of my third career.

For our forefathers the answer was simple; you worked until you died and occasionally worked yourself into the grave.  Physical labour took its toll and there was only one real retirement; it was called death.  Gradually, through mechanization and advances in technology, there was less wear and tear on the body but more on the mind.  Yes.  There are still people who fish, farm and toil underground but even these ways of life have changed forever.

So, if you are one of the lucky ones and have some say in the matter, when should a person call it quits? Does the epiphany come as a bolt from the blue or does it simply grow like fungus?  Is it a matter of finances?  Do I have enough money to keep me in the lifestyle to which I have grown accustomed, until the end of normal life expectancy?  Can I downsize to a simpler way of living?  Am I in good enough health to enjoy my remaining days on this planet?  Do I have hobbies and interests to keep me from dying from boredom?  (Or driving your spouse mad – Editor).  Will I become one of those old farts that sits in the mall coffee shop complaining about pot holes and politicians?

Part of the problem is that most people, especially business owners, think that they’re indispensable.  They wonder who can possibly fill their incredibly enormous shoes.  Who will succeed them?  What is their succession plan?  How can they possibly be replaced?

This is where good planning can make all the difference.  The best places to work are set up so that the business will run smoothly no matter what.  Job descriptions, systems, procedures, emergency plans – everything is documented, kept current and is available to everybody, all of the time.  When a key employee steps down, his or her replacement knows exactly what is expected, and so does the rest of the team.  And the clients are treated to “business as usual”, with a garnish of fresh outlook and enthusiasm.

I hereby challenge everybody to take the “arm in the bucket” challenge if you really want to find out if your place of work will survive when you and your amazing skill set take an “exit stage left”.

Go and grab a large bucket.  Make sure that it is deep enough to match the length of your arm.  Now, fill it nearly to the top with water and plunge your arm into the water.  It might be a good idea to be wearing a t-shirt.  Just as quickly as you put your arm in, remove it.  The hole that remains is how much you’ll be missed.

You see; you and every other person on this earth have one thing in common; you are not, and never were, indispensable.  Your place of work will carry on nicely without you.

And the best part is that the skills and experience that you take with you can be redirected to a new job or business venture, community involvement, or finally having the time to pursue your real passion, whatever that may be.

Life is beautiful.