One of my favorite places to be is New York – there’s energy there. And one of my favorite things to do is “people watch.” So I went to Bryant Park, which is just behind the New York Public Library. Wow – this is the kind of day you only dream about.

The weather was perfect, around 78 degrees. The sky was robin blue, not a cloud was around and a gentle breeze was the cherry on top of my day. Spring had arrived! This is why I love New York! Green and fresh and clean –not the gray concrete image so many people have of the city.

Walking around the park, I noticed people of all ages – young, middle, old, and even older. They were reading, writing, taking photos of the park, drinking coffee and/or just sitting and watching.

What I really like about spring is that all those bulky back east clothes come off. Hemlines rise (there use to be a theory that the higher the hemline, the better the stock market performs), tee shirts are the norm, and I was just about the only one with socks on.

And I as I looked at people, and I admit to watching mostly women, I noticed a glow that most of them had. The weather had been cold and rainy the past few days, but spring had popped her head out for a few days prior and people had that summer glow already. Okay, it’s not healthy, but it looks so good.

Then I noticed my skin. Dry and almost brittle looking, I was looking old because of my skin! I almost panicked. I saw my reflection in a mirror at that time and felt very out of place and very old. Something I almost never do.

For years my wife has told me to put creams on my hands and feet, face, arms – the whole body. I only do it when she’s watching me. Not anymore. Talking with a doctor friend, he told me that many of the creams protected from the sun and actually helped to heal the skin.

Then my eyes drifted down to my tummy. Oh my goodness – where did that basketball come from? And yes, it looks like a basketball.

Here’s the thing; while I like looking at other people, I also want to be looked at as well. With summer just around the corner, I want to look great! I want to look healthy. Hell – I want to look young and sexy. I know – I can only do so much.

This is what I plan to do: in the next six weeks I will lose 14 pounds. That will put me at only 22 pounds more than I was when I graduated high school. Only 22 pounds more than I was when I was married. I’ve actually gained more pounds than I have been married! I have to do something and do it now!

First thing – I’m cutting out soda. I love the tickle of a cold Coke going down. I always have. But I’m stepping up to the plate and will only drink water – most of the time. And those very bad carbs – like chips and crackers – forget them. I will eat protein and low fat foods. I will go to the gym (I’m leaving in a few minutes) and do cardio for at least 30 minutes.

Here’s the thing. I really need some help. If you have ideas on what I can do to drop those ugly old-making pounds, let me know. Help me out. Help yourself out and join me in getting ready for the summer. I want to look like David Hasselhoff in six weeks (perhaps a little shorter) because for a guy over 50, he still looks great.

Spring 2008 has awakened me to realize that I need to work at looking good. And to look younger.

Of course there is the problem with working out at the gym. This has nothing to do with being old or young. It has to do with being coordinated. I’m not and never have been.

A few years ago a friend of mine – a very coordinated friend fell off her treadmill and broke loads of things – a knee, an arm, a wrist and who knows what. Ever since I have to hold on to anything I’m running on because I don’t want to break anything.

Then there’s the guy thing. This is an ego issue. I don’t know why, but it’s embarrassing when a woman can bench press more than I can. Oh well, I just have to get over myself and get to working out.

As stated – my personal goal is lose 15 pounds by mid July. Let’s make it July 12, my birthday. What kind of fitness promise can you make to yourself to get in shape by this date? Let me know what your goal is and how you will accomplish it.

Growing old sucks – but it doesn’t have to!

P.S. I have to tell you I cheated on this! I frankly wasn’t sure that I could lose weight because I have never tried before. I wrote this at the end of May. It’s now the beginning of August.  I wanted to be sure that I could lose the weight before I posted this article.  I dropped 12 pounds. Wow – 12 pounds! It took me a little longer than I thought it would, but I did it! I’ll post a photo of the new “Mark” soon.

Was I surprised today! So surprised I was actually shocked! Pleasantly shocked and surprised by the action of a single employee.

Last year I was in New Mexico and I lost my cell phone. Just dropped out of the holster thingy and it was gone. My fault – I was racing around and late for a plane. My responsibility and I admit it. And it won’t happen again if I can help it. When it’s mine; I take the blame.

 Replacing the phone was not as easy as I thought it would be and it took a few days. Going to the Sprint (www.sprint.com) store, the young sales guy recommended I switch from Nextel to Sprint (the two companies had merged some time prior to this mishap). And so I entered the “Cell Hell Zone.”

Today, I found freedom of six months of torture by the work of one tech support rep (Rachel). Thank you a million times Rachel!

Let me explain what “cell hell” is all about. Dialing a number and not connecting is one. Talking with someone and being disconnected during the conversation is number two. This actually can be quiet funny as I have spent minutes talking and talking just to myself with no one on the other end of the line. Then the phone rings and it’s the person you thought you were speaking with. Robot sounding voices, interference, and more dropped calls together make up “cell hell.”

 The bottom line is: Rachel saved me as a Sprint customer: at least for now. I was ready and willing to endure the pain of moving to another carrier, but Rachel’s support and service convinced me to stay. I told her supervisor how great she is.

To be honest, I’m not a hundred percent sure that everything is okay. I need some time to see if I’m in “cell heaven” – a place that I really want to be. I still need to test the phone and, more importantly, the Sprint service. But the fact is Rachel spent time with providing me with the magic word – SERVICE! And Rachel is a kid. At least, she sounds like one to me.

According to my friend George, who runs a bank, the only difference between banks is service. George has got something there. My mother had an account with a bank for more than 48 years. She had other accounts, but her main account stayed at the same branch for all those years. Why? Because of service!

I’ve talked about service from young and old reps before. Bean counters (who run large corporations) have dropped “service” just like calls on a cell phone. It is almost non-existent. Here’s an idea – put Rachel (and others like her) in charge and service will be back – along with more customers!

Technology makes our lives easier. That’s the idea anyway. Those of us over 50 deserve to make life easier. Spending hours with tech support is not my idea of making my life easier. Rachel did make my life easier because she helped get my phone to work!

The real problem is bad service is not just a problem for young reps; even reps that have worked years at a company dish it out too.

Recently we had a problem with our washer. The machine really belongs in the Smithsonian, but my wife really loves the machine. When the washer went out, we had to wait more than two weeks before a service guy showed up to tell us he had to order parts. Two more weeks of going to a Laundromat and the part is wrong.

The washer and dryer are from Sears (www.SEARS.com), who provided the worst service I have ever had in my life. The absolute worst! From the initial call for service until we replace the washer was two plus months! Ridiculous! Guess where I ‘m not shopping anymore? Any comments Mr. Lewis (Aylwin B. Lewis, the President and CEO of Sears)? 

Trying to ask for a manager at Sears’s service was impossible. They either were not available, out, or would call me back in 24 hours. It’s been more than 3 thousand hours of waiting for Sears to call. The new washer has since arrived (it was back ordered so we waited an additional few weeks).

By the way – two days before the new washing machine arrived; so did replacement parts for the old machine. We actually received two sets of parts. We got the new machine because someone at Sears told me they didn’t make parts for the old machine anymore.

While I now have clean clothes, I ‘m not very happy. Not one Sears’ representative apologized for the poor service, the wait we experienced or for management not calling back. As I said at the beginning of this column, I take responsibility for making a mistake. I take responsibility when my staff goofs. Sometimes I feel that all of the world’s problems are my fault. I make changes to insure that mistakes will not happen again. I offer something to my client. Sears doesn’t care. At least it seems that way.

Back to my friend Rachel at Sprint: I’m sending this blog to the new CEO of the company (Hello Dan – you look like such a nice guy on those TV spots). Having people like Rachel around will save the company. Hire more of these young, friendly and great customer service people. And keep some of the more experienced reps around as well to train those young people. 

Here’s a pitch. While speaking with Rachel, I came up with a few marketing ideas for Sprint that will blow the competition away. I’ll let you know if Dan calls me back.

Have you experienced “cell hell” or poor customer service? Let me know all about it. I really want the juicy details.

Years ago I volunteered to set up a computer for my father-in-law. The first time it only lasted about 6 minutes. I opened the box and started to pull it out, when he asked me to stop. He said, “Take it back. I’m too old. I can’t learn this stuff. I don’t want this. I can’t do it.” And so back the computer and accessories went.

The operative words are “I can’t do this.”

A couple of years later I suggested he give a computer a try again. He agreed. The second time it lasted about six months. I set it up. Then I showed him the ins and outs of the computer so he could work it. He called me up and asked me to get rid of it. “Just take it out. Use it. Sell it. I don’t care,” he said.

“I can’t do this. I’m too old. I don’t have the patience.”

During the six months of computer ownship, he never even turned it on. He didn’t try it to use it. It sat there. When I came to collect it, I decided to keep it incase he decided to try it again. Years went by and the computer became obsolete.

Four years ago, Manny was in my office. He was looking at my computer screen. He turned to me and asked if I would help him get a computer.

I asked him. “Again?” He said, ”Yes I really want to try it and do this.” I told him I would do anything I could to make it easy for him.

We bought a state-of-the art Macintosh. From writing letters to sending email, I worked with him to show how to use all this new technology. I hooked him up to the Internet. I showed him how to search and to use the net. I showed him how to print. He kept copious notes. I offer free technical service to the limited abilities I have. And Manny was off to the races!

I didn’t want Manny to fail this time. I wanted him to see the joys of using a computer. And I guess in the back of my mind, I didn’t want to fail him.

On his own, Manny took a class or two on computers. He learned the jargon and the lingo. He learned how to do so many different things using a computer.

“Why didn’t I do this years ago?” he asked me. I just shrugged

They say the third time is the charm. Today my father-in-law could teach computers. He doesn’t know how computers work (and for that matter who does? – to me computers work by magic, with Harry Potter waving his wand), he just knows how to work them.

He has set up his email so can keep in touch with family and friends around the world. He listens to music (he’s well past the prime age for Itunes users, but he uses it all the time), he watches and reads news and manages his portfolio online.

Today Manny is part of the largest segment of new computer and Internet users. The lesson I learned from this is that even though I thought Manny should have a computer, he didn’t want it until he wanted it.

To say the least, I’m very proud of his computer abilities and accomplishments. It proves an old dog can learn new tricks – if the old dog wants to. Putting your mind to a goal can be done at any age.

What is it that you have always wanted to do, but have put off? Isn’t there some deep secret desire to do something that is so unlike you, that you dream about doing it? You tell me your secret wish and I’ll tell you mine. 

Thanks for stopping by. 

Not alone ago I was fired from a job. It ticked me off. But it got me to thinking about advertising and marketing. Hello Agencies: You’re Doing It All Wrong!

 In general, advertising is geared to young people. This is really stupid. Companies are selling all kinds of expensive stuff to 20 somethings. My question is how can a 24 year old afford a six-week world cruise. The answer is: they can’t! So if they can’t afford it, why try to sell it to them?

To be fair there are some 20 and 30 year olds that can afford a Maserati. But for the handful of Olsen twins, Britney’s and Lindsey’s, there are millions of others that can’t afford a new Taurus. 

Marketers target the 18 – 34 year age group as if this was the only group that counts. It’s not. The 40 plus and even the 50 plus year old groups, especially for luxury items, is the better target. There are 93 million Americans in this group. It’s the fastest growing group of any age group (we just added thousands while you were reading this). 

Marketing controls the media worlds. Ipods, computers, cell phones, and Internet applications are all designed for the younger generations. But the age group that adopts new technology in droves is the boomers! Sure we might need a 9 year old to help set up our computer or cell phone, but we are ones who buy the things and use them.

Television shows are a form of marketing. They are vehicles to sell stuff. You have an acne product; you create a rock and roll dance show. You sell hair care; you create a show featuring 20 year olds with hair problems. You sell Buicks; you develop a show for 55 year olds (which is the average age for Buick buyers). But this doesn’t happen. They are aiming for a younger buyer. Agency dudes: Give it up. You have a product that older people like, so go for selling more cars to older people. This just makes sense. Duh?

 Take a look at the spokesperson for Buick. It’s Tiger Woods. GM is attempting to lower the age of their buyer using a young guy like Tiger. Come on – Tiger can afford any car he wants and I’ll bet he doesn’t want to drive a Buick (unless they pay big bucks). GM can use Tiger to drive older buyers to showrooms to purchase, rather than waste their time (and money) selling to young people. I told my 20-year son I was giving him a present, a brand new Buick. He would rather take a bus.

The traditional networks keep pushing the new young generating programs at us and they die. Shows that don’t target a segment of the audience do better. “ER” is going strong after more than 10 years. They have good ratings – Great writing – Super TV.

 Recently an Internet based TV (Quarterlife) was given new life as an ABC network show. Designed for young viewers, it’s either dead or dying. Very few people are watching it.

 The fact is that the media is vastly under serving those of us over the age of 40. FM radio almost completely ignores us. Talk radio for boomers is found on the AM dial. And radio itself is loosing listeners because they don’t know what to do (don’t get me started).

 I’m not big on research because it can be skewed to a particular point of view. I base things on results. I did some research for this column. I asked 10 friends (yes, I have friends) to give me a few of their favorite TV shows. 

I Love Lucy was number one. This show went off the air in 1958! That’s 50 years ago. And this is the favorite show that people watch today? The age range of my test group is from 19 to 80 plus. And they all love Lucy. Okay this is a small sample, but people of all ages are looking for “something” that is not being offered. 

What’s your favorite shows from way back? What are your favorite current shows? Let me know!

The other day I got dumped from a job. I was hosting and producing a series of videos for a website. The videos came out better than anyone expected. I felt on top of the world. And then my world fell apart.

The marketing pro at the clients decided – I was too old for the part. In fact, even my voice was too old. I was angry, hurt, ticked off and mad!

 Bottom line: The client is just plain wrong! We’ll talk about this in a future blog.

First, I can’t tell you how hurt I was when my client (who is older than I am) told me. I’ve worked with him for almost 20 years and I know he felt bad when he told me. He still wants me to host and produce material for him, but this client wants a younger demo. I told him they were wrong. And he agreed. But, as he pointed out, they also write the check.

Okay, this is certainly a case of “ageism.” This young woman is discriminating against me – not because of my talent or lack of talent, but because I’m old! Growing old does suck sometimes. 

The client marketing person is a young twenty-something. She’s making decisions on marketing products to the wrong demographic. And she’s not alone. Marketing pros want the 18 – 34 year age group. I frankly don’t understand why. A 30 year old is practically a fetus, with just a few years of life experience. How can they be making decisions that experienced marketing people should be making? To me, experience equals years working.

When I was in my 20’s, I applied for an opening at a radio station. I had been referred to the manager and he was very friendly. He knew my work. He told me how great I was. And then asked, how could he help me? I told him I knew he had an opening and I wanted to be hired. After all his compliments, I felt this was a perfect match.

He almost laughed at me. Why would he hire me with just a few years experience, when he could bring in a guy with 20 years of experience? I was devastated. 

At 28-years old, I signed with a major talent agency in Los Angeles. This was the agency. It was bigger than William Morris. I thought all my dreams had been realized. The agency specialized in representing host talent – for game shows and talk shows. As I left that day of signing, the head of the agency told me they anticipated great things for me. “And when you’re 50, you’ll be a hell of a host!” I was flabbergasted. The agency never got me any work. Today, they represent young guys.

Somehow the rules changed on me. First I was to young and then I was too old? What the hell happened? When did it happen? And what was I doing to let it happen? 

To cap this off, my wife had planned a night on the town. It just happened to coincide with this incident. She dragged me to dinner and then to see Joan Rivers’ new play. This was the day after I was let go and I didn’t want to go. I was in a lousy mood. I certainly didn’t want to laugh. I wanted to stew in my own problems. Did I say, “I didn’t want to go?” But I did.

The play chronicles Joan’s life. And for some reason I resonated with Joan and her life. In fact, it was like a sign from the universe for me to see that play. Joan and I have a lot in common. The play gave me strength!

At one point she lost her TV show, her Las Vegas gigs and her spotlight. Her husband committed suicide. Her daughter wasn’t speaking to her. Her life was in the crapper. What did she do? She got up and started working in small clubs. She did ribbon cuttings at WalMart and Target. She did whatever she could to do, not what she wanted to do. All she wants to do is to make people laugh. This happened to Joan at the same age I’m at now. Wow! 

The end of her story: she won’t let anyone tell her that she can’t do something. No one has the right to tell her what she can and can’t do. Then she told the audience: no one has the right to keep us from doing what we want to do. Thank you, Joan! You made me laugh. And you made me think.

And that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not going to let this little marketing person depress me anymore! I’m going to be happy and do the things I love to do. 

Have you been told you can’t do something because “You’re too old?” Let me hear your story. We can’t let people tell us we can’t do something because we’re too old. We can do whatever we want to do! 

I know this sounds like a joke, but it’s true. Here’s what actually happened to me.

            The other day a light bulb burned out in the house and my wife asked me to replace it. Of course, with all the variety of bulbs on hand, that size was the one I was out of. As I was getting ready to go out of town, she asked multiple times to make sure I replace the light before my trip. That was in the first hour of finding the burned bulb. But I digress.

            When I had a minute, I jumped up on the counter and stood to reach the fixture. I didn’t think about this, as I’ve been jumping on counters, tables, and trees since I was a kid. Apparently I’m no longer a kid. That first jump was lots harder than it used to be.

            That’s when I began an inventory of my body. Do I really feel much different than I did when I was a kid? The answer is no. Then I flexed my legs and asked myself the question again. Again, the answer is no. I twisted my back, my neck, my arms, and whatever else I could move. The answer for everything was no – nothing feels different than when I was a kid.

            Perhaps it’s a memory thing. When I get up in the morning and look at the mirror, I don’t recognize the mug staring back. And that’s without my glasses. There are little bumps and wrinkles and all sorts of different things and I don’t know how they got there. Who invited them in?

            Maybe I don’t remember what I felt like as a kid. That’s got to be it. God has planned a poor memory about one’s body – so we won’t go crazy.

            Back on the countertop, I reached to get the bad light out so I could match it at the store. Whoa – I almost couldn’t make it. The room swayed. My balance was precarious. You would think I was on top of a mountain, instead of three feet off the ground.       

            The light came out easily and off I went to the store. My cell rings and my son reminds me to pick up a light bulb. Mom told him to (of course). When did I fall into “The guy who forgets everything in the world and needs to be reminded 47 times” Zone? I have been gone 20 minutes at this point.

             Taking the old bulb with me into the large box store, I search for lights. I actually remembered where they are housed. A full aisle of every kind of light you can imagine. Big and small, pink and yellow, blue and more – it’s like looking for Christmas lights. But where is the light I want?

            And then there are the eco signs. These signs state that the new lights (the ones with a twisty look to them) use much less energy, cost less to run and last longer than regular (old style) bulbs. So I found a match and back home I go.

             Jumping back on the counter, my wife watches me. “Whoa,” she says. She thought I was going to topple over. I struggle to stand up (it’s a very small space and I used to fit into places like that very easily). I replace the light and she turns it on.

             “It’s not as bright,” she comments. “I won’t be able to do my makeup there with that light. You need to change it to the other kind of light.” I explain this is the same wattage light equivalent and the light is the same. My wife is very green conscience and wants to help, but says this is a bad light.

             I climb down (that really used to be easier – I remember that) with the new bulb in my hand. I call my son and we find a place in the house to take an old style bulb, put in the new one, and then put the old one in the location I have been working at. We can’t tell the difference in the light.

             Once again I clamber up the counter (this is getting more difficult each time) and put in the old light from downstairs. Now my wife is happy and I can get on with my life. The light is bright and not yellow. She’s happy, which makes me happy.

             The answer to the question (How many 50 plus year olds does it take to replace a light bulb?) is one. If you’re willing to relive your life (watching it flash before you as you almost slip on the counter), put up with all kinds of insulting calls and change what you had planned to do before this 2-hour ordeal started, the answer is only one.

             Do you feel any different either mentally or physically then you did as a kid? Let me know what’s different and what’s the same.

An elderly couple had dinner at another couple’s house, and after eating, the wives left the table and went into the kitchen.
The two gentlemen were talking, and one said, ‘Last night we went out to a new restaurant and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly.’
The other man said, ‘What is the name of the restaurant?’
The first man thought and thought and finally said, ‘What is the name of that flower you give to someone you love?
You know… The one that’s red and has thorns.’
‘Do you mean a rose?’
‘Yes, that’s the one,’ replied the man. He then turned towards the kitchen and yelled, ‘Rose, what’s the name of that restaurant we went to last night?’

Hospital regulations require a wheel chair for patients being discharged. However, while working as a student nurse, I found one elderly gentleman already dressed and sitting on the bed with a suitcase at his feet, who insisted he didn’t need my help to leave the hospital.
After a chat about rules being rules, he reluctantly let me wheel him to the elevator.
On the way down I asked him if his wife was meeting him.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘She’s still upstairs in the bathroom changing out of her hospital gown.’

A senior citizen said to his eighty-year old buddy:
‘So I hear you’re getting married?’
‘Yep!’
‘Do I know her?’
‘Nope!’
‘This woman, is she good looking?’
‘Not really.’
‘Is she a good cook?’
‘Naw, she can’t cook too well.’
‘Does she have lots of money?’
‘Nope! Poor as a church mouse.’
‘Well, then, is she good in bed?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why in the world do you want to marry her then ?’
‘Because she can still drive!’

Have a good story or joke — send it in because we love to laugh!

A few weeks ago leaving a local drugstore – I felt trapped. I was alone with the cashier! Or so it seemed. I was in a hurry to go the gym (that’s what I’m telling you so you’ll think I’m a health nut). The problem: the cashier was on her cell phone.

            Wait? Did I say the cashier was on her phone – while at work? Ignoring me the customer?  I don’t get it. How could her boss let her do that? Okay, so the store was slow, but she should have been on the alert for customers.

            Several minutes went by. I’m standing and getting later and later (and a little bit older). In desperation I cleared my throat. Without responding to me the girl (she must have been about 17 – at this time in my life anyone under 40 is either a “girl” or a “boy”) told her friend “I have to go. There’s a guy at the check stand.”

            Without a word she scanned my items; my stuff placed in a bag quickly so I could escape. Before I could leave the store, the girl was back on her cell phone. She never said hi to me, acknowledged me in any way, or made a comment.

            I think this is strange and wrong! Whatever happened to service with a smile? Whatever happened to service in general? More and more as I go to retail establishments, with young workers, the term service is nonexistent. I’m the customer and I want help!

            There’s a story circulating about Mick Jagger and “The Rolling Stones.” It seems the hit tune “Ain’t Got No Satisfaction” is not about a woman: it’s about Mick attempting to get service from the phone company. Who would have thought? I think lack of service is pandemic!

            Recently at a national chain hardware store I asked the location of a part. The guy with the orange vest seemed angry that I interrupted his stacking of something. “That’s not my department. I think it’s on an isle over there.” Mind you, “over there” was nebulous. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but his demeanor left me cold. I didn’t want to talk to him. Eventually I left the store and went to a competitor.

            Ordering lunch recently from a fast-food place (well, that blows the pretense of being healthy) I was actually amazed at the warm service I received. She spoke to me! She asked how my day was going. Then she took my order, repeating it to make sure it was right.

            First, the server was not a kid. I estimate she was in her mid to late 30s. By the way she acted, I could tell she wanted this job and she was going to give it her best. The kids at the drugstore and hardware store really need to meet this woman.

            There’s an old story about Nordstrom’s. This is an upscale chain of department stores based in Washington. Just before closing the women’s shoe clerk receives a call from a distraught customer. She needed new shoes for an event that evening, couldn’t make it to the store, and didn’t know what to do.

            The clerk asked her shoe size, the color and style of shoes she wanted and her address. The clerk saved the day for this woman because he gave her service above and beyond the call of duty. He brought her an assortment of shoes to select from and made her day. And today, who does that woman buy shoes from? You can bet that it’s the same clerk that saved her butt.

            Frankly, I’m not sure how true this story is. But it illustrates a point –service with a smile- and then some!

            What I find interesting is that young, inexperienced workers don’t provide smiley service. They don’t seem to provide any service. Okay, I’m picking on young people. I’m sure that some young people do understand providing service, but at least in my neck of the woods it doesn’t seem to be available.

            Yet I will bet in their own lives they demand service. From their parents!

            Needing something at a hardware store, I returned to the scene of the crime mentioned earlier. While looking for my new thingy, a woman wearing an orange apron offered assistance. I was shocked! She has since helped me locate stuff all over the store. I should mention she’s in her 70s. And following her around is a young 20 something – learning from the master.

            Service should not be age dependent. I’ve talked with people of all age ranges and they have noticed this too. I’m don’t know why young people don’t provide friendly service? Maybe they’re shy? Maybe they’re afraid of what they are looking at (me in this case). Or maybe they don’t like to interact with others?

            What do you think? Let us know!

A few weeks ago I was in a suburb of Philadelphia. I was doing some TV production work and needed to get my gear back to Southern California. So I went to FedEx. I was astonished at the superior, super-wonderful help the woman in front of me received. In fact, I was flabbergasted!           

             The woman in line had rushed into the office and explained in broken English that she had run out of gas in her rented car. She didn’t know what to do, who to call or where to turn. She chanced into FedEx. Boy – was she lucky. 

            I need to point out that there was no package, no letter, no bundle, no pack, no “anything” to be delivered – FedEx was not going to make a dime. Here was just someone in trouble needing help. 

            The FedEx staff, without missing a beat, told the woman not to worry. One of them picked up her cell phone and started guiding the woman out the door. She told the others she’d be right back. 

            This customer was so obviously grateful she happily ran out of the building with her new FedEx friend. A few minutes later, while I was finishing my paperwork, I noticed some Enterprise car keys on the desk. Yep, in her haste, the woman left to get gas without her car keys! 

            As if in a performance by a Broadway choreographer, FedEx rep number two stepped up to the plate. She called her compatriot and told her about the keys. They decided to meet in the back of the building to help this woman on her way. 

            I wanted to hang around to see the end of this drama, but I left knowing that there are people who care. The three FedEx employees were beautiful women in their middle years. 

            Here’s why I was so surprised at the amazing service. Recently, my local FedEx changed staff. Instead of the people I’ve worked with for years, there’s a gaggle of young people (under 30) running the place. I miss the old familiar faces, the smiles, the “hi” and the friendliness of the place. It’s gone now.

             And service is sticky. It’s not as smooth as it was. There’s always a glitch and no solution offered. Frankly the problem is almost always my fault. Filling out forms – even on the computer – trying to make a shipping deadline – seems to be beyond my abilities. The old staff would chuckle, make some marks on the forms and I’d be on my way.

             The new crew makes me feel like I did something stupid in school. Okay, I did do something dumb (like putting in the wrong zip code for New York), but I’m the customer. Try not to make me feel dumber than I already feel. 

            Here’s the point: Growing older doesn’t make someone a better service provider. Growing older does give a person the experience to know that service is really the only thing separating them from the competition. Time and time again I get poorer service from younger customer service reps than I do with older ones. In fact, I find that older reps are more likely to go out of their way to do more than what’s expected. After all is said and done, all I really expect is a smile.   

           Service is an area that I talk about a lot. Have you had a good or a bad experience with a young or old rep? Let me know how you feel about the people who serve you.