This DSL coil
I got my renewal DSL letter from AT&T the other day, offering me the option of renewing my same package without a contract at $34.99/month, up from $14.99/month, or if I was eligible, twice-as-fast package for $17.99/month. Yeah, I don't get it either. Anyway, I'm not eligible for the twice-as-fast package for $17.99, which leaves me contract-frei come August, though with a $20 bigger chunk of change leaving my wallet every month.
Now the thing is, I can afford the extra $20/month -- that's just one less dinner out a month; no biggie since I've cut way back on eating out anyway. But it's the value of the deal I'm missing and that's what gets me. I mean, there are new subscribers out there who are paying $12.99/month for the same package that I'm currently paying $14.99/month for. There are people out there who will be paying HALF of what I'll be paying come August for a better quality, faster product.
It's easy to justify an extra $3 in price when you know you're getting something that's twice as good as what you have for the price of a coffee and biscotti. However, it's not easy to come to terms with a price increase of more than 230 percent for no discernable value-added benefit? For people to agree to a price increase, you have to be able to put forth a strong case as to why; putting in the same letter that some people may be eligible for a lower price on a swifter product is not the way to win and influence customers into staying. Bad AT&T, no biscuit for you!
Why should I pay more for less? Would you? I mean, SERIOUSLY. Does AT&T think we're all on crack when it comes to this kind of thing? specially when there are other kids in town who may be offering something better. I'm not sure whether AT&T is just really cocky and thinks people love their service SO MUCH that they just won't dream of switching, or that consumers are too lazy to check their options, do the math and realize there are cheaper options out there.
I called Earthlink, the other major provider of DSL in my area. They're offering a DSL package for $12.95/month for the first six months and $29.95/month for the next six months. That's a savings of $160 over staying with Yahoo. And the rep also told me they'd waive the equipment and activation fees if I signed up. What's there to lose?
I do plan to call AT&T and let them know, because the whole deal makes no sense to me. As a consumer, it's irritating because it's kind of like of seats on an airplane. You know the person sitting next to you might have paid twice the price of your ticket or half the price of your ticket, but since you don't know for sure and you don't know how much exactly, and there are so many other variables -- you win some, you lose some -- you can't put much stock into it. But AT&T isn't bothering to even hide the ugly truth.
My ultimate goal is to stay with AT&T -- because on this point, AT&T is probably correct: I *am* lazy and don't want to switch -- and either keep the $14.99 rate or if I'm really lucky, get the $12.99 rate. I'd even take the $17.99 rate. But the $160 a year I'd save with Earthlink is a significant chunk of change. That's 80 kolaches at the Kolache Factory, 40 mocha lattes at Starbucks, 20 dinners out, 10 t-shirts at Ann Tyler or a plane ticket to Florida. If AT&T isn't willing to deal, then my option is clear cut. I go to Earthlink. Of course, I might run into a couple of days of no Internet access come August (wah!), but I can be strong. Indeed I can.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Interesting
Here's an article about 11 cousins who gave up their stomachs after learning they carried a gene that causes stomach cancer.
Here's an article about 11 cousins who gave up their stomachs after learning they carried a gene that causes stomach cancer.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Writing descriptors
Like the word 'said', writers are constantly looking for ways to describe their characters aside from the usual fallback of pronouns and the characters' name. Occupations, hair coloring and relationships are the usual culprits. For instance: "The blond ran down the hall" or "The plumber pulled up his pants" and "His girlfriend pouted." All of these are fine, like everything else, in moderation, and it goes without saying using these kinds of descriptors is the anvil equivalent of 'telling, not showing'.
Descriptions of 'the red head' or the 'blond' are, mho, the worst of the three types of descriptors. Hair color is very rarely an element of plot or character development and is one of the easiest ways to describe a character's appearance; hence, constant mentioning gets annoying because it adds little, if anything, to the actual story.
Repeated use of the descriptors also runs the risk of reducing a character to that one phrase: The blond, the girlfriend, the plumber. These are all characteristics of the characters -- they are not *the* characters -- and indeed, these should not be the only elements of the characters we're told about (or rather, shown).
Like the word 'said', writers are constantly looking for ways to describe their characters aside from the usual fallback of pronouns and the characters' name. Occupations, hair coloring and relationships are the usual culprits. For instance: "The blond ran down the hall" or "The plumber pulled up his pants" and "His girlfriend pouted." All of these are fine, like everything else, in moderation, and it goes without saying using these kinds of descriptors is the anvil equivalent of 'telling, not showing'.
Descriptions of 'the red head' or the 'blond' are, mho, the worst of the three types of descriptors. Hair color is very rarely an element of plot or character development and is one of the easiest ways to describe a character's appearance; hence, constant mentioning gets annoying because it adds little, if anything, to the actual story.
Repeated use of the descriptors also runs the risk of reducing a character to that one phrase: The blond, the girlfriend, the plumber. These are all characteristics of the characters -- they are not *the* characters -- and indeed, these should not be the only elements of the characters we're told about (or rather, shown).
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Overheard
While leaving the gym:
Boy: Don't be mad at me.
Girl: I am.
Boy: I saved your life.
Girl: But you said things that hurt my feelings.
I am dying to know a) what he did to save her life and b) what he said that was so bad that the act of saving her life was completely invalidated. Suggestions are welcome.
While leaving the gym:
Boy: Don't be mad at me.
Girl: I am.
Boy: I saved your life.
Girl: But you said things that hurt my feelings.
I am dying to know a) what he did to save her life and b) what he said that was so bad that the act of saving her life was completely invalidated. Suggestions are welcome.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Up above the clouds
Mt. Everest has been in the news a lot lately. This morning the "Today" show interviewed the American who rescued Lincoln Hall, who amazingly survived a night out in the open, just a couple hours from the summit. You can read about it here. Also, another climb disputes that he left David Sharp to die on the mountain. You can read about that story here.
Mt. Everest has been in the news a lot lately. This morning the "Today" show interviewed the American who rescued Lincoln Hall, who amazingly survived a night out in the open, just a couple hours from the summit. You can read about it here. Also, another climb disputes that he left David Sharp to die on the mountain. You can read about that story here.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Orange clouds raining in my head
Reading: The Smartest Guys in the Room by Bethany McLean and Peter Elkind
Watching: Le Divorce
Listening:Little Earthquakes by Tori Amos
Reading: The Smartest Guys in the Room by Bethany McLean and Peter Elkind
Watching: Le Divorce
Listening:Little Earthquakes by Tori Amos
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Easy on the taste buds
My new favorite treat is roasted red peppers and while you can buy them in a jar, I find it pretty easy and cheaper to just roast them myself -- especially when you have a fabulous sale like we did last week where red peppers were 2 for $1, rather than the usual 1 for $1 (green peppers were the usual 3 for $1).
To roast red peppers, I cut them in half, remove the seeds and stems from the inside, and usually wash them again just to make sure there's nothing clinging to them. Removing any stickers is also extremely advisable. I put the red peppers on a cookie sheet, cut side down, and put them in the oven, set on broil. I usually wait until that familiar scorched scent fills my kitchen and dining room before I check on them. The more charred the skin the better, I say, and all of y'all know, if there's one thing I do great in the kitchen, it's burning things.
Once the skins of the peppers are completely blackened, I remove them, and then using tongs, drop them into a plastic bag -- I usually use the same one they came in from the grocery store -- and then I tie off the bag and let the peppers sit for as long as 30 to 40 minutes. Once the peppers are cool to the touch, I peel off the charred skin -- it usually comes off pretty easiy - and then occasionally, I give it one more light rinse to remove any remaining ash. Chop up the peppers, and voila, you have a very tasty treat for sandwiches, pastas, pizzas and salads.
Today's link of the day is provided by Lori: a cooking blog called Chocolate & Zucchini.
My new favorite treat is roasted red peppers and while you can buy them in a jar, I find it pretty easy and cheaper to just roast them myself -- especially when you have a fabulous sale like we did last week where red peppers were 2 for $1, rather than the usual 1 for $1 (green peppers were the usual 3 for $1).
To roast red peppers, I cut them in half, remove the seeds and stems from the inside, and usually wash them again just to make sure there's nothing clinging to them. Removing any stickers is also extremely advisable. I put the red peppers on a cookie sheet, cut side down, and put them in the oven, set on broil. I usually wait until that familiar scorched scent fills my kitchen and dining room before I check on them. The more charred the skin the better, I say, and all of y'all know, if there's one thing I do great in the kitchen, it's burning things.
Once the skins of the peppers are completely blackened, I remove them, and then using tongs, drop them into a plastic bag -- I usually use the same one they came in from the grocery store -- and then I tie off the bag and let the peppers sit for as long as 30 to 40 minutes. Once the peppers are cool to the touch, I peel off the charred skin -- it usually comes off pretty easiy - and then occasionally, I give it one more light rinse to remove any remaining ash. Chop up the peppers, and voila, you have a very tasty treat for sandwiches, pastas, pizzas and salads.
Today's link of the day is provided by Lori: a cooking blog called Chocolate & Zucchini.
Friday, June 09, 2006
This time with feeling
Best. Bookism. Ever.
Interposed.
"I was just saying," he interposed.
I'm so not making this up. You can find this example and other worthy ones in Richard North Patterson's Balance of Power.
Best. Bookism. Ever.
Interposed.
"I was just saying," he interposed.
I'm so not making this up. You can find this example and other worthy ones in Richard North Patterson's Balance of Power.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Captains blog too, y'know
Jean-Luc Picard has a blog over here. I read the first entry and that was as far as I got before my "Canon Alert! Comma Alert! Character Alert!" klaxons went off. But all of that is understandable when you consider what various 'fleet members have to go through, day by day, while on the job, and with very little outlet for their various pent-up emotions. I'm glad JLP is blogging. Even Starfleet captains need somewhere (Sorry, Deanna) to air their feelings "after another hard day commanding the Enterprise."
Jean-Luc Picard has a blog over here. I read the first entry and that was as far as I got before my "Canon Alert! Comma Alert! Character Alert!" klaxons went off. But all of that is understandable when you consider what various 'fleet members have to go through, day by day, while on the job, and with very little outlet for their various pent-up emotions. I'm glad JLP is blogging. Even Starfleet captains need somewhere (Sorry, Deanna) to air their feelings "after another hard day commanding the Enterprise."
Nostalgia
When I first moved into my dorm more than 10 years ago, I knew three things about my living arrangement: first, and foremost, I knew my roommate because we'd chosen to live together when we met at orientation, second, we were living in the honors dorm, and third, it was a coed dorm. The last was one of those theoretical pieces of knowledge, the thing that kind of buzzes by you when you're in the thrall of picking out new sheets for the extra long beds and discussing who's bringing the television/stereo/refrigerator.
So when we moved in that first day, we (and mostly our parents) were horrified to find out that our room, at the very end of the hall, was surrounding by guys. Guys across the hall, guys diagonally across the hall, guys next door. The guy across the hall was watching the US Open finals, and I was immediately drawn to the match, but my mom said, "No! Don't go in there! Don't ever go in there!"
Out of the ten rooms on our floor, only four -- including ours -- were girls. Over the course of the year, we -- guys and girls both -- got to know each other, overcoming our mutual fears of the opposite gender, and become very good friends. We got along so well that most of us never left that floor and finished all four years of college in the same dorm rooms we moved into as freshmen. I'm still good friends with most of the people I lived with that first year in college.
The guy across the hall, the tennis watching guy, turned out to be one of my closest friends in college, and he's the one who got me into journalism, and has made quite a name for himself in newspapers these days, including an appearance on the Today show a couple months ago. The guy next door, well, starting our sophomore year and to the day we graduated, we ate breakfast together every Saturday and Sunday. It was our thing, mostly because no one else would be up early enough to go with us. Today, he's a successful consultant in the DC area. And finally, the guy diagonally across the hall, I don't know where he is today, but he still makes me smile when I think about him.
We'll call him Doug and Doug was... well, he wasn't the LL Bean or J.Crew wearing type like the rest of us. Doug wore skirts. Regularly. When we asked him why, he just shrugged and said they were comfortable and didn't chafe like pants did. The skirt-wearing wasn't the only thing odd about Doug, but it was the most obvious one that people commented on. The skirt thing wore off pretty quickly because we were more fascinated by another aspect of Doug's appearance that to this day still remains unexplained.
During our first semester junior year, a freshman moved into Doug's room. Two weeks in, he passed out meeting notices for the Young Republicans club -- that we had such an organization at the East Coast's answer to Berkeley was a surprise to all of us -- and said, very politely, "I would love it if you could make it." He was so sweet that none of us -- almost none of us -- had the heart to tell him as a group, we were probably the Young Republicans' worst nightmare: pro-choice, anti-gun Clinton voters. The quality of the food in the dining commons was possibly the only thing that could arouse any kind of passionate political response in us. When it came to taking a stand against watery eggs, acidic melons, and undercooked bacon, we were *so* on-board. Protesting the new GLBT dorm on campus came a very distant last place to any of a million other concerns we had going on.
"Someone's got to tell him the truth," my friend the journalist said, staring at the flyer in his hand.
"But he's so sweet," Florida Girl said. I frowned at her. Of course she would call him sweet; she didn't have to listen to "I Saw the Sign" and "All That She Wants" 80 gazillion times a day. In the end, we all politely declined, but the invitations didn't stop coming, but somehow, we were always too busy to attend the meeting.
The kid discovered the truth about his doormmates accidentally. It was an unusually warm day for October, and most of us had ditched the turtle-necks for t-shirts. Then out comes Doug wearing his three-tiered paisley skirt in red and orange, complete with a little bell on the drawstring. The kid's eyes bugged, his mouth opened, but no sounds came out. Doug walked down the hall, past all of us. When Doug turned the corner, the kid slinked up to us and said, "Did you see what I saw?" And my friend, now the consultant in DC, said, "You noticed Doug only has one sideburn too?"
At the conclusion of the semester, the kid moved out, never to be seen by any of us again.
When I first moved into my dorm more than 10 years ago, I knew three things about my living arrangement: first, and foremost, I knew my roommate because we'd chosen to live together when we met at orientation, second, we were living in the honors dorm, and third, it was a coed dorm. The last was one of those theoretical pieces of knowledge, the thing that kind of buzzes by you when you're in the thrall of picking out new sheets for the extra long beds and discussing who's bringing the television/stereo/refrigerator.
So when we moved in that first day, we (and mostly our parents) were horrified to find out that our room, at the very end of the hall, was surrounding by guys. Guys across the hall, guys diagonally across the hall, guys next door. The guy across the hall was watching the US Open finals, and I was immediately drawn to the match, but my mom said, "No! Don't go in there! Don't ever go in there!"
Out of the ten rooms on our floor, only four -- including ours -- were girls. Over the course of the year, we -- guys and girls both -- got to know each other, overcoming our mutual fears of the opposite gender, and become very good friends. We got along so well that most of us never left that floor and finished all four years of college in the same dorm rooms we moved into as freshmen. I'm still good friends with most of the people I lived with that first year in college.
The guy across the hall, the tennis watching guy, turned out to be one of my closest friends in college, and he's the one who got me into journalism, and has made quite a name for himself in newspapers these days, including an appearance on the Today show a couple months ago. The guy next door, well, starting our sophomore year and to the day we graduated, we ate breakfast together every Saturday and Sunday. It was our thing, mostly because no one else would be up early enough to go with us. Today, he's a successful consultant in the DC area. And finally, the guy diagonally across the hall, I don't know where he is today, but he still makes me smile when I think about him.
We'll call him Doug and Doug was... well, he wasn't the LL Bean or J.Crew wearing type like the rest of us. Doug wore skirts. Regularly. When we asked him why, he just shrugged and said they were comfortable and didn't chafe like pants did. The skirt-wearing wasn't the only thing odd about Doug, but it was the most obvious one that people commented on. The skirt thing wore off pretty quickly because we were more fascinated by another aspect of Doug's appearance that to this day still remains unexplained.
During our first semester junior year, a freshman moved into Doug's room. Two weeks in, he passed out meeting notices for the Young Republicans club -- that we had such an organization at the East Coast's answer to Berkeley was a surprise to all of us -- and said, very politely, "I would love it if you could make it." He was so sweet that none of us -- almost none of us -- had the heart to tell him as a group, we were probably the Young Republicans' worst nightmare: pro-choice, anti-gun Clinton voters. The quality of the food in the dining commons was possibly the only thing that could arouse any kind of passionate political response in us. When it came to taking a stand against watery eggs, acidic melons, and undercooked bacon, we were *so* on-board. Protesting the new GLBT dorm on campus came a very distant last place to any of a million other concerns we had going on.
"Someone's got to tell him the truth," my friend the journalist said, staring at the flyer in his hand.
"But he's so sweet," Florida Girl said. I frowned at her. Of course she would call him sweet; she didn't have to listen to "I Saw the Sign" and "All That She Wants" 80 gazillion times a day. In the end, we all politely declined, but the invitations didn't stop coming, but somehow, we were always too busy to attend the meeting.
The kid discovered the truth about his doormmates accidentally. It was an unusually warm day for October, and most of us had ditched the turtle-necks for t-shirts. Then out comes Doug wearing his three-tiered paisley skirt in red and orange, complete with a little bell on the drawstring. The kid's eyes bugged, his mouth opened, but no sounds came out. Doug walked down the hall, past all of us. When Doug turned the corner, the kid slinked up to us and said, "Did you see what I saw?" And my friend, now the consultant in DC, said, "You noticed Doug only has one sideburn too?"
At the conclusion of the semester, the kid moved out, never to be seen by any of us again.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Quote of the Day
From today's Opinion Chat on the Washington Post:
Every time I read that quote, it totally cracks me up. It almost makes up for the bad taste in my mouth left from Ann Coulter's appearance on the Today show this morning.
While I don't want to pay too much attention to the woman (because she's quite frankly scary, and if Today wants a conservative viewpoint, what's wrong with Laura Ingrahm or Mary Matalin? At the very least, they are logical, rational and intelligent women with good solid facts backing up their argument), her comment about 9/11 widows was completely and totally awful. But the scary part is, there are people who will actually agree with her, despite the fact she is completely vapid and cannot seem to offer a coherent, logical or intelligent opinion about anything. Honestly, if I hadn't been so disgusted with her comments, I would have been embarassed for her since she was clearly out of her element.
From today's Opinion Chat on the Washington Post:
Arlington, Va.: Somewhere there's a gay immigrant sneaking across the border while burning the American flag and singing the National Anthem in Spanish who is totally having the worst day of his life. Osama bin who?
Every time I read that quote, it totally cracks me up. It almost makes up for the bad taste in my mouth left from Ann Coulter's appearance on the Today show this morning.
While I don't want to pay too much attention to the woman (because she's quite frankly scary, and if Today wants a conservative viewpoint, what's wrong with Laura Ingrahm or Mary Matalin? At the very least, they are logical, rational and intelligent women with good solid facts backing up their argument), her comment about 9/11 widows was completely and totally awful. But the scary part is, there are people who will actually agree with her, despite the fact she is completely vapid and cannot seem to offer a coherent, logical or intelligent opinion about anything. Honestly, if I hadn't been so disgusted with her comments, I would have been embarassed for her since she was clearly out of her element.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Odds and ends
Last night in chat, we were discussing a long-ago Newsweek article that said single women 40 and over had a better chance of being killed by a terrorist than getting married. Lori (one of last night's chatters) pointed me to this blog entry on the Newsweek article, which is infinitely more intellectual than anything we were discussing last night.
And in light of George W. Bush's sudden, albeit politically motivated, interest in the Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage, I thought I'd point people in the directoinn of Stephanie Coontz's book, Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy, or How Love Conquered Marriage. It's eye-opening in so many ways and before anyone goes on about Donna Reed and "My Three Sons" being the cornerstone of American society, this is a must-read.
Last night in chat, we were discussing a long-ago Newsweek article that said single women 40 and over had a better chance of being killed by a terrorist than getting married. Lori (one of last night's chatters) pointed me to this blog entry on the Newsweek article, which is infinitely more intellectual than anything we were discussing last night.
And in light of George W. Bush's sudden, albeit politically motivated, interest in the Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage, I thought I'd point people in the directoinn of Stephanie Coontz's book, Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy, or How Love Conquered Marriage. It's eye-opening in so many ways and before anyone goes on about Donna Reed and "My Three Sons" being the cornerstone of American society, this is a must-read.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Technophobe
I just signed up for online banking. Completely freaks me out. Like, I know that I'm so 1999 when it comes to this stuff, but there's a certain amount of comfort (and annoyance) that comes out writing checks, stuffing them into envelopes, slapping on a stamp, and dropping them in a mailbox. That's conventional, that's security, AND it's supporting the USPS. But cheapness wins out every time and the bank is offering this for free AND offering a rebate if I pay 3 people through online bill-pay. How about that, money for nothing?* There's nothing I like better than a good and even profitable deal.
*But the bank can keep the chicks, free or otherwise.
I just signed up for online banking. Completely freaks me out. Like, I know that I'm so 1999 when it comes to this stuff, but there's a certain amount of comfort (and annoyance) that comes out writing checks, stuffing them into envelopes, slapping on a stamp, and dropping them in a mailbox. That's conventional, that's security, AND it's supporting the USPS. But cheapness wins out every time and the bank is offering this for free AND offering a rebate if I pay 3 people through online bill-pay. How about that, money for nothing?* There's nothing I like better than a good and even profitable deal.
*But the bank can keep the chicks, free or otherwise.
Said bookisms
In recent days, I've come to realize not all said bookisms (or, alternatively, saidisms) are made equal and some are worse offenders than others. Saidisms like 'request' or 'asked' or 'observed' are so much more easy to slip by the reader than $10 words like 'extrapolated', 'expositioned', 'caterwauled', and 'ejaculated' (the last one is particularly tiresome and unfortunate). I'm not particularly fond of 'rejoined' either. That being said, it's still not a good idea to use them; even once a page can be jarring. Plus, most of the time, using a word other than said is redundant when combined with the actual line of dialogue. To wit:
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
"I would like five tickets to the play," he requested.
"The grass is green and the sky is blue," she observed.
"How about we get married?" he proposed.
"I'll be home for dinner," she promised.
"I'm so sad," he wept.
"Don't take my diary!" she caterwauled.
You get the point. It's clunky writing, can often sound silly, and in the above examples, can fall victim to the 'tell not show' pothole. The characters' dialogue, for the most part, should state exactly what's going on in their heads at that moment and what their next action will be. There's no need to back it up almost immediately with a 'saidism'.
Here's a more in-depth article on the evils of 'said bookisms'.
In recent days, I've come to realize not all said bookisms (or, alternatively, saidisms) are made equal and some are worse offenders than others. Saidisms like 'request' or 'asked' or 'observed' are so much more easy to slip by the reader than $10 words like 'extrapolated', 'expositioned', 'caterwauled', and 'ejaculated' (the last one is particularly tiresome and unfortunate). I'm not particularly fond of 'rejoined' either. That being said, it's still not a good idea to use them; even once a page can be jarring. Plus, most of the time, using a word other than said is redundant when combined with the actual line of dialogue. To wit:
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
"I would like five tickets to the play," he requested.
"The grass is green and the sky is blue," she observed.
"How about we get married?" he proposed.
"I'll be home for dinner," she promised.
"I'm so sad," he wept.
"Don't take my diary!" she caterwauled.
You get the point. It's clunky writing, can often sound silly, and in the above examples, can fall victim to the 'tell not show' pothole. The characters' dialogue, for the most part, should state exactly what's going on in their heads at that moment and what their next action will be. There's no need to back it up almost immediately with a 'saidism'.
Here's a more in-depth article on the evils of 'said bookisms'.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Boss lady
In my short career, I've had six bosses. The one I remember (other than the infamous Ossbay) and admire the most was boss #2. What I liked about her was no matter what, she had a sense of urgency when it came to dealing with her employees. If you walked into her office, no matter how simple the request, she immediately put everything aside and gave you 100 percent. And then she took action right then and there. You needed something from executive? She picked up the phone and called. You wanted authorization for a significant capital expenditure, done. The phones could ring, email could come in, but at that moment, she made you feel like you were the most important issue she had to deal with.
I try to do the same thing in my work life. It's not always easy because you're being pulled in 80 gazillion different directions with conflicting priorities. But I do want people to think when they're standing/sitting in my office that my attention is completely focused on them, that I'm not thinking about anything or anyone else except for them. I'll even shut the door -- despite the open door policy -- if I need to (or rather, if they need it shut). I also like immediacy of getting things done when the person is right in front of me; that way I can be assured that I've done what they need me to do so they can get on with their job. Boss number 2 often told us that she never wanted to be in the way of progress and I like to think that I work the same way. Some days, the most important thing I do is getting out of someone else's way.
In my short career, I've had six bosses. The one I remember (other than the infamous Ossbay) and admire the most was boss #2. What I liked about her was no matter what, she had a sense of urgency when it came to dealing with her employees. If you walked into her office, no matter how simple the request, she immediately put everything aside and gave you 100 percent. And then she took action right then and there. You needed something from executive? She picked up the phone and called. You wanted authorization for a significant capital expenditure, done. The phones could ring, email could come in, but at that moment, she made you feel like you were the most important issue she had to deal with.
I try to do the same thing in my work life. It's not always easy because you're being pulled in 80 gazillion different directions with conflicting priorities. But I do want people to think when they're standing/sitting in my office that my attention is completely focused on them, that I'm not thinking about anything or anyone else except for them. I'll even shut the door -- despite the open door policy -- if I need to (or rather, if they need it shut). I also like immediacy of getting things done when the person is right in front of me; that way I can be assured that I've done what they need me to do so they can get on with their job. Boss number 2 often told us that she never wanted to be in the way of progress and I like to think that I work the same way. Some days, the most important thing I do is getting out of someone else's way.
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