My First Grey Hair - by my niece

One of my Christmas presents today was this wonderful poem my my niece, Olivia:

My First Grey Hair
------------------

Today I found my first grey hair
At first it gave me quite a scare
What's it doing over there?
I poked and prodded as I stare

What does this say about me now?
I worry, cringe and raise my brow
This imperfection I avow
Makes me feel a little foul

But then I thought a little more
Of those who's hair turned grey before
All of whom I do adore
With hearts of gold and wits galore

So maybe this is not a shame
Perhaps it is my claim to fame
For life would be a little lame
If I just tried to stay the same

Now wisdom calls me to its lair
Challenges me to be aware
Beckoning myself to share
The story of my first grey hair

.......

Loved it!!

Harry’s Birthday

Harry dreaded birthdays. His three, very competitive kids would always try to outdo each other every year first with the card they gave him, then the gift and finally the “special dessert” they had prepared. Thank God they were starting to have grandkids and their focus was now shifting more to them rather than him on special family gatherings.

Linda, his oldest daughter, held a big fancy party with all the trimmings which included two turkeys, a ham for those who don’t like turkey and vegetarian dishes for those who don’t like meat. Even with 15 ravenous people, most of them rapidly growing giants, there were still plenty of leftovers for all the families to take home for a few more meals.

After the meal came the birthday cards. He always started with Linda’s.

Linda’s 14-year old daughter Becky, the spitting image of her mother at that age with the same long red hair and freckles, handled him the first card. “This is a special card, Grandpa,” she said. “We recorded a special message for you on the card.” Harry accepted the unusually thick envelope and tore it open, removing the card. On the cover was a picture of an old man with a cane walking towards a sunset. Harry had only begun using a cane and he hated being reminded that he now needed the confarned aid to get around. He smiled at Becky and opened the card. It read: 

We think about you every day

And love you more than words can say.

But words will have to do to send

Our love to you until the end.

Happy Birthday, Grandad.

Harry smiled politely and turned the page. As he did, a picture of Linda’s family appeared and a tinny recording of “Happy Birthday” began. The voices of Linda, her husband and three children could barely be recognized. At the end, they all added “Happy Birthday Grand—“. The recording ended before the last “pa”. Linda began to fuss about how they had rehearsed for over an hour and tried to get that recording to fit, but they just couldn’t get that last “pa” in. Harry reassured his daughter it was fine and he loved the card, although in reality he meant he loved the family picture.

Next came Lane, his oldest son who constantly boasted he was the number 2 salesperson in Canada, which is why he tried harder. His card was even thicker than Linda’s. He removed the card from its envelope. On the cover was a picture of an older man, dressed as a clown, dancing for a group of children seated around him. Lane was known for his offbeat sense of humor, or at least that’s what his resume said. As Harry opened the card, little paper characters resembling Lane and his five kids popped up displaying a two-dimensional circus scene. Lane’s ex-wife was conspicuously absent. The poem included said:

Now that you are sixty-four

Don’t be afraid to be a bore

The love you feel from all of us

Is more than Barnum’s great circus.

Don’t be afraid to be a clown

When life’s ups turn into downs

Today’s your day, forget the past

Enjoy this one – it might be your last!

Harry’s stiff, forced smile tried to conceal his real feelings. Both cards had reminded him how old he was and about death. What next?

His youngest son, Reginald, was an IT Support something or other. As much as Harry loved his son, his talk often drifted to technical jargon that went right over Harry’s head. Instead of an envelope, Reggie brought over a small box. “This is totally state of the art,” he pronounced after turning all lights off to make the room as dark as possible. Harry was beginning to feel like a judge at the World’s Best Birthday Card Competition. After Reg set the box down and removed the cover, a small swirl of lights appeared above the box creating a 3-D holographic image of Reg and his family. The group sang “Happy Birthday”, while dancing in a circle around a birthday cake. When the song was done, they all turned to where Harry was sitting and said in unison, “Happy Birthday, Grandad”, and the image faded to black.

At that point Harry heard everyone singing “Happy Birthday” and a procession from the kitchen appeared carrying his birthday cake with 64 lit candles. The cake was placed in front of Harry and he waited first for the finish of “Happy Birthday”, followed by “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” and finally “If You’re Happy and You Know it Clap Your Hands”. Finally he was able to blow out the candle stubs and the cake was whisked back into the kitchen to be cut up and served with ice cream. Everyone followed the cake shouting their orders for “a bigger piece” or "don’t make mine too big”, leaving Harry alone with his youngest grandson, Jeremy.

“Grandpa?” He looked at Jeremy to see the 5-year old clutching a small envelope. “I made a card for you too.” Harry lifted Jeremy on to his good knee as he took the card. On the envelope in Jeremy’s crude hand-writing was the word “Granbad”. Harry smiled – Jeremy always did have trouble with his “d’s”.

He opened the envelope and withdrew Jeremy’s handmade card. On the cover were two stick figures, one bigger than the other, holding hands and tiny sea shells were glued around them. “This is you and me,” Jeremy explained, “when we go down to the beach and you help me look for shells.” Collecting shells was Jeremy’s obsession, even though his parents were not thrilled at the “garbage that he drags into the house”. “Go ahead and open it up,” Jeremy implored. Harry opened the card. Inside was written, “I love you, Granbad” and a small, wallet size school picture of Jeremy had been pasted inside a hand-drawn heart. “Happy birthday, Grandad,” and with that Jeremy gave Harry a hug. Harry returned his grandson’s hug with the same enthusiasm shown by Jeremy. 

“Do you guys want birthday cake?” It was Linda carrying two plates with cake and ice cream into the living room. “Yes,” Harry replied, “and we’re going to eat it right here.” Jeremy had a big smile. He knew this was special because his dad never allowed him to eat in the living room at home.

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My first Mac - 1984

One of the richest companies today is Apple. Apple's rise all started with the Macintosh in 1984 and the famous Super Bowl "1984" commercial, although some claim the precursor, the Lisa, was the real start. Originally dismissed as a toy (Sound familiar? Wasn’t the iPad described the same way?) the Apple Macintosh, now generally referred to as the Mac, has demonstrated remarkable staying power.

While sorting through some old papers, I found my order for my first Mac. It had 128K (that’s KILObytes) of RAM memory and 1 x floppy drive (no hard drive). It could only be ordered with a dot-matrix printer called the Imagewriter, but it also included every software program that was available at the time of release. I was working for an Apple dealer at the time, so these were the “special” dealer employee prices. If I remember correctly, prices for the general public were more than 2 times  higher.

Here’s the breakdown of the price I paid on January 20, 1984:

Macintosh Personal Computer and Software (M1001)	$ 997.50 CDN	($ 759.00 USD)
Apple Imagewriter & Mac Accessory Kit (M0151)	$ 331.00 CDN	($ 249.00 USD)
Macintosh Carrying Case (M0200)	$ 73.00 CDN	($ 55.00 USD)
SUBTOTAL	$ 1,401.50 CDN	( $1,063.00 USD)
Sales Tax (ON 7% in 1984)	$ 98.11 CDN	($ 74.41 USD)
Shipping and Handling	$ 15.00 CDN	($ 15.00 USD)
GRAND TOTAL	$ 1,514.61 CDN	( $1,152.41 USD)

From memory, I remember the software included floppy disks & manuals for MacWrite and MacPaint and Microsoft Multiplan at no extra cost. I continued to get new versions of the software free, and other software like MacDraw was added later. Microsoft too kept sending free software updates even including a few versions of Microsoft Office, which changed the name Multiplan to Excel, before the free updates stopped.

I’ve owned many Macs since then, but you always remember your first one.

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Multi-Fastic Restaurants International Apple iPad App

Dear Morty;

This will confirm the order after our 3-hour on-line conference call for 2,000 Apple iPad’s to be delivered, with various printers, computers and other supporting equipment, to Multi-Fastic Restaurants International in Montreal next week. In addition, we understand you will complete the Apple iPad App for the following specifications:

• Owner is Chinese, but also a Canadian citizen who is opening a chain of gourmet Japanese Restaurants across Canada and in the USA – all menus, reports displays must all support Mandarin, Cantonese, English and Kanji.
• Orders will be taken at the tables in the language of preference of the patrons either on self-serve terminals (iPads anchored to the table) or by the waiter / waitress on portable iPads.
• Receipts for appetizers must be printed in French at the appetizer stations for the French staff that man that station.
• Receipts for entrees must be printed in Kanji for the chefs who are all Japanese.
• Salads, vegetable and soup orders will be displayed on iPads in three languages, Polish, Hungarian and Korean for the staff employed at those workstations – since this work force has high turnover, other languages must be instantly available when a new employee is hired at this entry-level position.
• Receipts for customers can be printed in the language of their choice with total line printed in that language for the customer, and on the payment stub in English for the cashier.
• Chef reports must also be in Kanji, but also in Mandarin, Cantonese, English and French for comparison to other chains owned by the corporation.
• Commission / tips reports will be in English and French and will be provided to bilingual staff in the language of their choice.
• Order call must be in English and French on an alternating basis to accommodate bilingual staff and comply with local language laws – the first and last calls must always be French.
• Since staff can record their own meals, all selection menus must be available in the language of choice – similar to self-serve selections at the table – but employee meals are complimentary and recorded to the employee number only as a taxable benefit.
• When patrons are seated, menus will appear on the table iPad after the language of choice is selected. Colored borders around the menu will give the wait-staff a clue of what language the patrons speak. For example, a red border around the menu would indicate English had been chosen as the language and a green border would indicate French. This will allow staff to approach customers in the language of their choice based on their menu selection. Other languages will display with a blue border and, if a multi-lingual employee is available who speaks the language, they will be assigned to service that table.
• A control iPad at the Host station will highlight languages for each table in the restaurant and employees fluent in that language can be sent to respective tables.

Since you already have the basic prototype program working for one hamburger fast food restaurant in English, I’m sure you’ll be ready to demonstrate this enhanced version with completed modifications next week. Bear in mind that it must also be able to handle all sales taxes for all Canadian provinces and US states as well as full currency conversion for any world currency that might be presented at the restaurant with hourly updates of currency rates tied to the World Bank. We’ll review the program Friday morning to make sure everything is working okay and, since the restaurant only opens at 5:30pm, that should give you plenty of time to make any changes and fine-tune your programming.

In final summary, we are delighted at the App price quoted at $0.99 per iPad and trust there will be no surprises when you make the final delivery next week.

Sincerely,

Bob Flobblaw, President

Multi-Fastic Restaurants International

------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Corncob Mike - from 07-JAN-2007

Corncob Mike

Things are usually pretty quite on my late evening shift as I monitor the highly automated system that controls the broadcast of news, music and advertisements that are being broadcast to the local Moncton community. The logo of the large American chain that now owns us in the high-security lobby says it all. The day of human broadcasters is almost done. Machines have taken over.

As I muse how things used to be, the main door to the control room bursts open with Andy, the security guard, entering followed by 12 burly, muscular men in black suits and ties and all wearing sun glasses. Andy is nervous, sweating profusely. And tells me these are White House security agents traveling with President George W Bush, and President Bush has asked for a tour of the new studio.

I'm cool, calm and collected as I state emphatically that it's highly irregular, but I'll have to get permission. "Do it," says the head agent, and I pickup the 911 phone which rings to the CEO's phone no matter where in the world he is. I explain that George W wants to see the studio. He tells me no way, unless he agrees to an interview.

Agent in charge grabs the phone from me saying "The president wants to see the studio." And then "No, only 5 minutes." Then he passes the phone back to me. The CEO tells me there is agreement for a 5-minute interview, and I'd better not blow it. He also tells me to interrupt all broadcasts with the automated emergency interrupt pre-announcement and then go live with the interview.

A push of a few buttons and the lights come on in the small, rarely used broadcast booth as all outgoing broadcasts simultaneously stop and the "important announcement" music starts. The president and his entourage enter and, George, all smiles, walks into the studio and sits . As the recorded announcement booms the message "We interrupt this program to bring you important information..." I settle into the announcers chair and start.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. We are privileged to have President George W Bush visiting our city today, and he has decided to tour this humble radio station. President Bush, thank you for sparing a few minutes to speak with us."

"No problem, " he responds. "I see you all have a pretty modern radio station here."

I respond "We stopped using corncob mikes some time ago."

At that point everything stops. The President looks perplexed while all the agents around me glare with hate. All I do is shine a big toothy smile. Suddenly he starts laughing. His agents whisper something to him, and he says, "That's pretty good, boy. Well I have to go." With that he's whisked away and I'm all alone in the studio again.

I finish the broadcast by saying, "That was an interview with George W Bush, the President of the United States of America", and I punch the buttons to play "We will now return to our regular broadcast...", and the synthesized music and electronic engineers take over again.

The red phone rings - it's the CEO laughing almost uncontrollable. "That was great, Mike." My name is Ron. "Corncob Mike, that was terrific. Did you get that on tape? I want you to make a million copies and make it available to every broadcast in the world."

Andy comes back in saying the switchboard is going crazy. I tell the CEO this. He says he'll take care of it - just get those copies made, and he hangs up. So for once my shift is busy as the multi-duplicator spits out copy after copy of my 2-second interview.

I later find out that CNN Headline News had my broadcast on the air minutes after I broadcast, and every newspaper in the world has front page headlines saying "President Interviewed by Corncob Mike". As I leave at the end of my shift, I'm mobbed by hundreds of reporters who want to know what I meant by the "corncob mike" expression. The radio station makes me change my name legally to Corncob Mike, and everyone calls me "Corncob" for short.

At that point I woke up.

I have no idea what any of this means.

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Earlybird award - from 20-Jan-2010

Being on time at work has always been a matter of pride with me. Every morning my i-Phone alarm wakes me at 7:20 AM. It takes me 11.5 minutes to shower, shave and sh--. After dressing, I can brew my morning coffee, prepare my 3-course lunch and breakfast in 12.5 minutes. 5-10 minutes are allocated for cleaning my car of snow and warming it up before leaving for work which on most days will only take another 5 or 10 minutes. Upon my arrival, I’ll drop my frozen waffles into a toaster and settle down to a leisurely breakfast while I sip my coffee. At 8:30 AM, I head upstairs and settle into my desk starting up the computer and catching up with my co-workers who share the early shift.

Today was different.

I woke up at 8:43 and then panicked that my i-Phone alarm had let me down for the first time. The next few minutes could have been  a replay of the speeded up portion of the Danny Kaye film The Court Jester. There was no time for the 3 S’s (shower, etc.) or even for combing my hair. I threw a frozen dinner in my bag for lunch and two peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast since I knew waffles would take too long. I also grabbed a bottle of water and my empty coffee mug. Instead of home-brew I would have to settle for cafeteria vending machine brew this morning.

By 8:47 I was at my snow covered car. With several quick sweeps of my arm, I was able to clear off the 6 inches of snow accumulated on the windshield and rear windows. Less than 2 minutes later I was in my cold car work bound with the rear window defogger at full power, my front window defroster at full blast and my windshield fluid and wipers madly scraping away at the layer of ice underneath the snow gradually creating bigger and bigger clear patches for me to peer through and see where I was going.

Upon arrival, I noticed the parking lot was not as full as normal. I didn’t think the storm was that bad, but perhaps there was bad drifting on the major highways into town.

By 8:54 I was in the cafeteria brewing my morning coffee when I noticed my water bottle was missing. I quickly bought another bottle of water and headed upstairs, craving the coffee hit to help wake me up.

I managed to startup my computer at 8:55 and then began to relax and look around. None of my co-workers had made it in, I thought smugly to myself, but at least I was on time. I also noticed that many of the overnight workers were still working and thought that a lot of employees must have called in late for these agents to be asked to work overtime.

As I glanced outside, my foggy brain began to wonder why it was so dark out at this time of morning. The days had been getting brighter and it was strange that now at 9 AM in the morning it was dark again. At 9:00 I signed in right on time, but the computer was still booting up. I grabbed a peanut butter sandwich to try to gulp down a few bites before I took any calls and found my missing water bottle inside my lunch bag. Since my computer was taking longer to startup, I looked at the time on my phone handset so I could report to the supervisor that I would be delayed in taking calls for a few minutes. Then I saw it for the first time. 9:01 PM!

Omigod! I was 12 hours EARLY!

Now things started to make more sense. Wednesday was the day I had booked off for dentist and doctor appointments. I also did a lot of running around to fill prescriptions, do shopping and finally meet with my Financial Advisor to discuss my strategies for RRSP and TFSA this year. After the last two hour meeting, I was exhausted and when I came home I climbed into bed for a nap. Well the nap became a full-blown sleep and when I awoke several hours later it felt as if I had had a full night’s sleep. From that point on it was my barely-awake brain that was in control, not my logical “this can’t be 9 AM” brain.

The managers on duty at work thought my mistake was hilarious. One called it the “funniest work story he had ever heard”. I imagine I will be taking quite a bit of teasing for this one!

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Another Day, Another Caller

Another day, another caller

Daddy has to earn a dollar

Taking calls, telling lies

Watching out for quality spies..

One by one the rote of calls

Makes teeth grind, crushes balls

Never, ever will they end?

Never, ever can we bend..

Break / lunch respite, my bladder screams

A dash to Men’s where urine streams

Relief from pain, relief from stress

Is agent's relish – 2 minutes left..

Sign in again, and all is still

Calls are now going downhill..

Laughing, joking fills the halls

As agents talk and throw small balls

Then suddenly calls start again

With wicked fury as they come in

There is no rest, there is no pause

Except when work is done – Applause!

The Penny

Yesterday was my 60th birthday, and I was fortunate enough to spend it with all my family. They held a big fancy party with all the trimmings. Linda made a huge birthday meal with two turkeys, a ham for those who don’t like turkey and vegetarian dishes for those who don’t like meat. Even with 15 ravenous people, most of them rapidly growing giants, there was still plenty of leftovers for all the families to take home for a few more meals. After the meal came the presents.

My daughter and her children gave me a flat screen TV for the bedroom. They said that Linda and I could watch the late-night movies we love so much in bed instead of me sprawled out in the family room in my underwear and bathrobe. I personally think a 2nd TV is about as useless as an extension phone. I mean our home phone on the kitchen wall more than meets our needs, and I don’t have one of them in the bedroom either. Since everyone knows not to call after 9:30 PM unless it’s an emergency, why would I need a bedroom telephone? I’d prefer to get up, walk down the hall and then be awake by the time I said “Hello”.

My son’s family gave me an iPhone. Now I’ve never had a cell phone, but he showed me how I could watch movies on the small screen and listen to music privately with the earpiece. That might not be such a bad idea during Pastor Longword’s lengthier sermons on how the World is going to Hell in a hand basket. I guess it is a good idea to carry a phone around with me so I can dial 911 in an emergency, but I’m not sure I would ever use it for anything else. After all, can’t you just as easily call from any convenient payphone and only pay 10 cents? All these roaming charges, data rates, daytime minutes – who can figure all that stuff out? When he started talking to me about kilobytes, megabytes, gigabytes and terabytes, I felt like I was having another conversation with Linda’s denturist about the overbite problems with her latest set of dentures.

When I thought the gift giving was over, my youngest grandson, 5-year old Timmy, whispered to me “I have a present for you too, Grandpa” and he pressed a penny into my hand. I have been giving him pennies since he was 3. “This is my favorite penny, Grandpa because it’s the first one you gave me and it has the same year on it as my birthday.” I looked at the coin and sure enough it was minted in 2006. I told Tim I would treasure it always and keep it in my wallet with his picture to remind me of him.

It was only a penny, but it was the most valuable gift I received that day – that and the hug I got right after I told him he deserved another bowl of ice cream for his thoughtful gift. Tim was a premature baby and ever since I had held his perfect tiny body in the palms of my two hands, we have always had a special connection.

Later that night as we all gathered to watch The Family Man on my new TV, Tim climbed on to my lap, snuggled up against my chest and fell asleep. I too fell asleep and woke up just as the movie ended. As Tim’s father gathered his sleeping son, I told John the story about the penny. John, without saying a word, reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed me a penny he had stored there. The year it was minted was my birth year, 1951. I had forgotten that the tradition of my giving pennies had started with John.

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Call Centerata

Listen tolerantly amid the endless calls and the average handle times,

and remember what boredom there may be in silence with no phones ringing.

As far as possible, without exception,

be patient and empathetic with all persons.

Speak your truth calmly and clearly;

and be cheerful and pay attention to each customer,

even the belligerent, the frustrated and the angry;

they too have their story to tell.

Avoid giving loud and aggressive explanations;

they are troublesome to the caller and fellow workers close by.

If you judge yourself as better than others,

you may become arrogant, unproductive or hostile,

for there will always be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Cherish your achievements as well as your goals.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble or ambitious;

it is a real possession in the changing attitudes of business and subject to the fortunes of the time.

Exercise caution in your personal life,

for the world is full of deception and danger.

But let this not blind you to the benefits there are in true friendships;

many people strive for high standards,

and everywhere the world is full of heroes and people with dedication.

Be yourself - specifically do not fake pleasantness or affection.

Don’t be cynical about loyalty, friendship or love,

for in the face of all misfortune and disenchantment,

they are as recurrent and inspirational as a glowing sunset or sunrise.

Take kindly the counsel of your elders and gracefully surrender the toys of youth.

Others have walked the same path before you and can lead the way.

Nurture your own character strengths and build your friendships and family relationships

to defend from sudden misfortune and provide support in perilous times.

But do not worry yourself with dark imagination of pending disaster.

Many fears are born of ignorance, fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a discipline of punctuality and a daily goal of always doing better,

be gentle with yourself. Mistakes are lessons to be learned, not tools of torture.

You are a child of the universe, a personal with human failings and limitations

no less than the managers who supervise you, or the senior executives that command you;

you have a right to be here; the business has a right to expect you here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

your remuneration is rewarded as it should in full measure against your participation.

Therefore be at peace with your job, whatever that may be..

And with the company and fellow employees you work with, whoever they may be.

And whatever your efforts and objectives are,

in the constant noisy chatter of work life that surrounds your pod,

keep peace in your heart and stay clam in your soul.

With all its routine, drudgery, and broken dreams,

Your life is still a beautiful world, and having this job is better than having none.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. Smile and say “Thank you for calling..” to everyone you meet.

Then go home and release your pent-up frustrations by kicking the stuffing out of your teddy bear.

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