Windshield wipers

In recent weeks it has rained almost every day.  Soggy even for Seattle.  And it’s reminded me of the time years ago that we got a brand-new Ford Fairlane station wagon.

My Dad believed cars were to get people from point A to point B.  They were not comfortably furnished living rooms with wheels in which one might listen to a radio or indulge in frivolous playthings like electric windows or power steering.  Car = transportation.  Even so, I was 13 and excited about a new car in the family.  We’d had the old station wagon for ten years, and several delays in the delivery of the new one only heightened my sense of anticipation.

It finally arrived:  “Silver Smoke Gray,” pretty blue steel dashboard, three-speed manual transmission with shifter on the steering column, no radio, all crank-down windows, including the tailgate window.  It was Exhibit A for my Dad’s functional view of cars.

This was the era when it was practical and affordable to “go for a drive,” and we took the new car out for a spin after church one Sunday.  We ventured much farther than our usual routes, onto back roads and into countryside we’d not seen before.  I’ve always enjoyed exploring new areas and neighborhoods, and what could be better than touring in the new Fairlane?

It started to rain.  Almost immediately after turning on the windshield wipers, the bracket that connects the electric motor to the wiper arms broke.  Rain was coming down in buckets and we didn’t have a way to clear the windshield in the gathering darkness.  But it turned out that there was a way.  I lowered myself under the dashboard with my feet up on the front seat and pulled that broken bracket back and forth by hand.  Hadn’t realized that even the windshield wipers on this car were manual.

Seems like it took us at least an hour to get home, which – is – a – lot – of – pulling – back – and – forth – to – keep – the – windshield – clear.  All the sparkle and appeal of that car evaporated in that hour, and it never returned.  In fact, if someone had stopped us along the way that afternoon and offered us two cents for the car, they probably would have had themselves a deal.

That was 1965, and there hasn’t been another Ford in our family since.

The love of a father

I swam competitively when I was in high school.  We worked out in a crappy pool covered by an inflatable bubble during the winter months.  If the fans quit working or it snowed, the bubble collapsed onto the surface of the pool.  A guy threw up in the water once, but our coach insisted that we keep swimming because “it’ll spread out.”  Another time the fog inside the bubble was so thick that we couldn’t see three feet in any direction.  We positioned ourselves around the edges of the pool and made appropriate splashing sounds while the coach sat in the fog blowing his whistle for most of an hour.

Perhaps swimming is a genetic thing.  My Dad swam on a college swim team, and now Lauren is turning out for her school team.  I respect her discipline and willingness to take on the commitment.  And if anyone can make swimming a more social sport, Lauren’s the one.

I also get some points for my own discipline and willingness to take on her commitment.  I’m driving her tomorrow, when she starts two morning workouts a week that begin at 5:00 AM.  I’ve never been more interested in carpooling, and will make a point of giving her more driving practice.  I should also add a note of appreciation for my Mom, who was one of those faithful early morning drivers of our carpool in days of yore before we could drive ourselves.

Like I told Susan while we were out in the wind and pouring rain watching Zack play soccer last weekend and again today, I think I’ll have a good reply if the kids ever tell us that we don’t love them.

Sometimes change sucks

In May Zack started delivering the West Seattle Herald to about 30 customers around our neighborhood on Wednesday afternoons.  His first time doing the route by himself was in the pouring rain, pulling papers out of his backpack, checking addresses off his list, trying to keep everything dry – what a miserable way to start a job.  Susan got a tearful call from our newly-minted carrier, and was able to help him get the papers delivered and figure out some easier ways to do it next time.

Zack settled right into the routine.  His buddies helped him deliver papers.  He struck up friendly conversations with neighbors.  He acquired new customers, earned tips, and wrote thank you notes.  He deposited checks in his new bank account and had his own money to spend on the school band trip to Idaho.  Zack enjoyed a responsibility that belonged just to him.

Now big newspapers are fighting for survival.  Our own well-loved Seattle Post-Intelligencer lost the fight a few months ago, leaving the city with one daily paper that has no soul.  Smaller papers are feeling the squeeze, too.  The West Seattle Herald is consolidating its operations and switching to distribution by mail, and this past Wednesday was the last time neighborhood carriers delivered the paper.

Like millions of boys, having a paper route was Zack’s first regular job.  Like millions of Americans, he recently lost his job.  He’s already had at least one of his customers ask if he’s available for other work, so it’s good that he can see how ‘referrals’ and ‘networking’ and ‘good customer service’ come into play.  It just bugs me a little bit that he had his first taste of ‘unemployment’ at the age of 13.

Caring for your introvert

For those of us who are married to or otherwise closely associated with an introvert, here’s a good article from the March 2003 issue of The Atlantic.  I laughed out loud.

Dell doesn’t get it

Susan and her siblings purchased a new computer for her parents and I volunteered to assemble it for them.  No problem.  In an hour or two I’d be back outside on a spectacularly beautiful Seattle spring Saturday…

About 90 minutes later the new computer was in place, desk dusted, and the hairball of cords and plug strips under the desk untangled and labeled.  Fired it up.

Susan’s folks did not want to learn a new operating system, and the new computer was ordered with Windows XP instead of Vista.  Good choice.  While it booted up I looked over the packing slip from Dell.  Yep, “Microsoft Windows XP SP3 English.”

What an unpleasant surprise to see that POS Vista loading instead of XP.

Where’s the backup media with the downgrade software?  Check the packing slip – there it is.  Check the box – there it isn’t.  Turned out Dell had shipped us four separate FedEx envelopes, and each one contained this letter:

Dear Valued Customer,

You recently placed an order for a Dell system and we inadvertently shipped that system to you without the Windows XP SP3 Backup software media.

Your Windows XP SP3 Backup software media is enclosed in this package.

Your new computer was delivered to you with Microsoft Windows XP operating system already installed, so you do not need to install this software on your new system at this time.  However, please keep this media in a safe place in case you need to reinstall the operating system on your computer in the future.

For any technical questions with your new order, you can visit our support center by going to SupportDell.com.

We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you and sincerely hope you enjoy your purchase.

Best regards,

Dell

Thank you, Dell.  A couple of questions:  If this computer was shipped with XP already installed, why did it load Vista?  And “in case I need to reinstall the operating system,” I’d need backup media with the software, the drivers, service packs, and utilities (four different CDs), and not four identical CDs like Dell shipped.  With no instructions.  Hmmm.  I don’t think I can overwrite Vista just by running this one XP CD, can I?  [Several attempts.]  No, I cannot.

Called Dell Technical Support and eventually reached Abhai in New Delhi, where it was 45 degrees centigrade (113 Farenheit).  He was extremely helpful and courteous, and we spent more than two hours on the phone uninstalling Vista and installing a downloaded version of XP.  Also downloaded a bunch of needed drivers onto a CD on the new machine, but I’d already been at this for six hours, and had to leave for a wedding before installing them.  That should be easy to do later.

It wasn’t.  The new computer wouldn’t read the CD with the drivers.  Thankfully Abhai had ordered a complete set of the backup media sent to me, so got the drivers installed a couple days later.  Seemed like I was making some progress until I tried to move files over from the old computer, and the file transfer utility in Windows crashed repeatedly.

My inexhaustible supply of patience exhausted, I put the new computer in a cantaloupe box and schlepped it back to Costco for a refund.  When I politely mentioned that I already had more than ten aggravating hours into this failed installation, they didn’t ask any questions.

I went back to my in-laws’ place and set up their old computer.  With the exception of a larger monitor they’d purchased (and the dusted desk and untangled cords), we’re back where we started more than two weeks ago with nothing to show for it.  *Sigh*

Since the Costco refund went back on my card, I ordered the identical system again.  I know – that’s the definition of insanity.  I hoped (and tried and tried and tried) to find someone at Dell who could get my order expedited.  So far so bad.  A couple more long phone calls, multiple transfers, disconnects, and the words customers love to hear, “We can’t do that.” After arguing with me on the phone (another thing customers love), a ‘customer care’ representative told me he was transferring my call to his supervisor.  He left me on hold for 20 minutes (I was fixing dinner) before I hung up.  What a lousy way to run a business.

A note for the folks at Dell:  Just because you’re a big company doesn’t mean that you can get away with building and shipping inferior merchandise, delivering crappy service, and ignoring your customers.  Ask General Motors.  We have one Dell computer at home, but it’s very, very unlikely that we’ll ever buy another one.  If you’re thinking about buying equipment from Dell, please let me know.

Learning

This evening Lauren (15) was preparing for a Biology test while the rest of us watched “Marley and Me.”  She took a break and came downstairs to give us a preview of what she was studying.

Lauren understands that she is a visual learner and uses flash cards to very good effect.  Somewhere along the way she determined that she doesn’t respond as well to blue or black writing as she does to other colors, so she made her current set of flash cards with purple and yellow pens.  Don’t ask me.

Allow me one little example of her approach to learning:  knowing that “ventre” is the French word for stomach helps her to remember that “ventral” refers to the front surfaces of any structure.  Same thing with “dos” (French word for back) and “dorsal.”  Lauren thought French and Biology were completely unrelated subjects, then she started discovering connections like these.

* * * * * * * * * *

Our thinking about education has always been that we want the kids to love learning, as that’s something they’ll enjoy all their lives.  Lauren showed us this evening an awesome example of how she’s drinking in facts and information and finding new ways in which to connect pieces of her world.  It’s a great encouragement and delight to see her education actually blossoming – like she is – right before our eyes.

Beauty

As the parent of a teenage daughter, I can get bogged down with daily details of school, schedules, footwear, laundry, phone use, clothes on the floor, lunches, and retainers.

But now and again I see the radiant young lady who dazzles me in practically every way, and I can hardly believe that I get to be her Dad:

In the unlikely event of family conflict: The Meeting

When the kids were about 4 or 5 we came up with some simple steps to help them (and us, as it turned out) work through conflict.  We’d convene a Meeting, which is:

• Offered or required when it becomes apparent (yelling, tears, blood) that the kids could not resolve a matter by themselves.
• Intentionally formal and time-consuming, providing some incentive for the kids to work things out on their own:

Do we need to have a Meeting?
No!  We can take care of this by ourselves!

• A good tool to help all of us better internalize ways to resolve conflict. We’ve found these steps useful in the workplace, too.

The moderator (usually the one who convened the Meeting) sits between the parties in conflict, preferably with an arm around each one.  The setup goes something like this:

Welcome to our Meeting.  Here are the reasons that we’re doing this:  1)  we want to make sure everyone has a chance to say what they need to say; 2) we want to make sure we hear what others are saying; and 3) we want to find a way to figure things out.

First, each of you will have a turn to tell your story while the others listen carefully without interrupting you.  Then each of you will have a chance to say something else if you want to.  I will probably offer some comments about what’s been said and ask for your ideas about how things could have been done differently or better.

Then, if apologies are needed, we will make them and receive them, and we will end with a gesture of goodwill.

Any questions?  Who would like to go first?

It’s often tempting for one party to jump in while the other is telling his/her story, so a simple reminder may be needed that only one person at a time gets to talk, and there will be an opportunity for more comments:

Lauren, it’s Zack’s turn to talk and our turn to listen.  We’ll make sure that you can say what you need to after he’s finished.

Apologies at our house require three things:   1) steady eye contact to reduce the risk of eye rolling; 2) using the other person’s name; and 3) specifically naming the action for which the apology is offered:

Lauren, I’m sorry that I ripped that page out of your book.

It does not require that we feel like apologizing.  An apology is a choice and we do it whether we feel like it or not.

Accepting apologies at our house requires two steps:   1) steady eye contact; and 2) receiving the apology:

I accept your apology and I forgive you.

Again, feelings are not required – this is a choice.  That said, we do pay attention to tone of voice.  An apology that sounds mocking or insincere must be repeated until the moderator is satisfied that it meets or exceeds minimal standards for sincerity.

The question, “Zack, is there anything else you need to say to Lauren or need to hear from her?” (and the same question to Lauren) can ensure that all known issues are addressed.

We always end our Meetings with a “gesture of goodwill” between the parties.  This can be a high five, a handshake, or a hug.

Repeat as often as necessary!

* * * * * * * * * *

One of the things we like most about a Meeting is that it takes us through all the steps needed to get an issue resolved.  Air grievances, listen, take responsibility for our contributions, receive counsel, offer and accept apologies, make a good faith effort to restore the relationship.  Variations on these themes?  Sure – but the essential ingredients are there.

* * * * * * * * * *

There have been occasions when Susan or I have needed some help to untangle our own conflict with one of the kids.  The other adult has had to sit us down and walk us through a Meeting.  It takes only a small dose of humility to fall back on the familiar steps to work things out.  More importantly, it is a powerful statement to the kids that we hold ourselves to the same standards we are trying to teach them.  There hasn’t [yet] been a situation in which either Lauren or Zack convened a Meeting when Susan and I were in conflict with each other, but I believe they could do it.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Susan and I presented The Meeting at a parenting workshop at our church,  we asked a couple of parents to take the part of their kids and role play a Meeting with me.  They really got into it.  The two moms interrupted and accused each other out of turn, reached across me to hit each other, and one ran away and hid under a table!  I had to concentrate less on what I was presenting in order to get firm with them, suggesting we cancel our ‘trip to the zoo’ unless they showed a little more cooperation.  Seemed to us that they had no difficulty imagining themselves in their own Meetings with family members!

Space between the ears

Zack (13) and I were in the kitchen when I noticed him reaching into the bottle of vitamins – again.

“Didn’t you just have some of those a few minutes ago?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” Zack replied, replacing the top on the bottle.  He flashed me a slightly sheepish grin.

“Won’t it be nice when your brain starts working again?”

“Yep.”

“Do you miss it?” I wondered.

“Nope.”

Behold, my son the foodie

The kids’ youth group is doing a 30-hour ‘famine’ this weekend as an opportunity to experience a little bit of what it’s like to go without food, and to raise money to help feed some hungry kids.  Both Lauren and Zack have been very interested in being a part of this event.  When Zack was hit by the flu that ravaged our household this week, his first response was disappointment that he might have to miss ‘the fast.’  I love that in a 13 year-old.

* * * * * * * * * *

While he was sick (and I was recuperating), Zack spent a fair amount of the day tucked into bed upstairs and I was working on stuff downstairs.  We were keeping in touch via text messaging.  Here’s one of the threads:

Z:  Hot Cheetos sound good to you right now?

(I went up to his room and he asked if I would make him a grilled cheese sandwich.  I said I would.)

Z:  Thanketh thou.

Me:  Thou art welcome!

Me:  Behold, I perceive that thy health improveth somewhat.  But be not deceived into thinking that thou art well enough to attend The Fast, even though thy heart yearns mightily to do so.  Thy grilled cheese sandwich shall be with thee presently.

Z:  Thanketh thou…  I do not feel well enough to attend the fast.

Me:  Verily, thou hast spoken wisely, my son.

Z:  I accept thy praise, father.

Z:  When is Easter?

Me:  April 12.

Z:  OK – so like in 2 weeks?

Z:  Honey-glazed prawns.  Hong Kong crispy noodles and roasted duck from Lee’s Asian Restaurant.  My friend recommended them to me.

Me:  Mr Chow Hound!

Z:  I always end  up talking about food… it’s funny.

Z:  They also recommended that place Cactus on Alki.

Z:  Excellent sandwich!

Me:  OK Bubba – I have to get some work done.  You are too much!