Be Like BESSIE!

Be Like Bessie!

“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.”―Ralph Waldo Emerson

A few days each week during the winter I work in a giant laboratory studying the behavior of vast numbers of people. My specific areas of interest are the characteristics of patience and kindness while in pursuit of happiness and outdoor adventure. More specifically, I am a greeter at a New England ski area. From this vantage point I have face-to-face contact with hundreds of men, women and children of all ages. The stories my colleagues and I collect could fill a book. (Hey, that’s an idea!)

One of a Greeter’s responsibilities, beyond welcoming guests and answering basic questions, is to be sure each visitor’s wait in the line to purchase lift tickets is as short as possible, hopefully no more that 7-15 minutes on the most crowded days. This is no mean feat in the age of data collection required for the issuance of a re-usable RFID card that can be detected by a scanner in the pocket of even the most high tech parka. We also draw the short straw sometimes and have to facilitate traffic flow in the “drop off” area. If the entire ski area is the laboratory, then this particular area is the active Petri dish. . Maybe we should put up a sign that says, “Remember! Children are watching and listening.”

If I was looking to hire people to build a team for a task that required intense, cooperative effort in a stressful situation, I’d insist on seeing videos of how these job candidates handled their cars, friends, family and Greeters in the “drop off” area. Surely I’d learn more than any resume or interview could reveal.

Since we Greeters spend most of our time managing ticket lines, that’s where the best stories come from. Just the other day a person was in such a hurry to get his ticket that instead of walking through the short, simple, ten-foot, back and forth maze to the ticket window, this “gentleman” ducked under the ropes to take a more direct route, knocking over several stanchions, which he did not fix. He may have saved a full three seconds getting to the ticket window. I just smiled at him sympathetically. You know, one of those smiles that says, “I hope you get better soon.”

We greeters pick up a wonderful assortment of sound bites or snippets from the hundreds of conversations that swirl around us. My all-time favorite came from two brothers, strolling past with their arms on each other’s shoulders. The older brother looked at his younger sibling and said, “Hey, your wife’s happy and your girlfriend’s happy. I think everything is going to be fine.” Then they disappeared into the crowd leaving me with a number of questions that will forever go unanswered.

I’ve been thinking of asking management to position a large video screen in the ticket line waiting area showing highlights of good and bad behavior of guests collected over the course of the winter season. We would obscure the faces to prevent law suits, but the instructional value would be powerful…and highly entertaining.

Most people waiting in line to purchase tickets fall into one of three categories:

Group A. “I am too important to have to wait in line with all of these other people. Can’t you do something?”

Group B. “It’s too bad the wait is so long. Have you considered ways that might make things move more efficiently?”

Group C. “I’m not at work, I’m in a beautiful place and eventually we are going to have a great day on the slopes.”

The hybrid of groups B and C is my personal favorite. By the way, guests can purchase their tickets online at a reduced price and eliminate or greatly shorten their wait in line. It’s a reward for those thoughtful people who plan ahead. Let’s call this Group S for smart.

So how does this all tie in with BESSIE’S STORY? It’s simple. Bessie is the model of patience. She’ll stand with her nose to a door calmly and peacefully if she wants to go outside. When it’s time for breakfast or dinner Bessie sits like an angel without barking, whining or grumbling. In her dark, fragrant world she somehow just knows that we’re going to do the best we can to take care of her needs. When we are going somewhere in the car she’ll hop in and sit calmly as long as necessary. Very few people can follow her example of poise and good manners. The only time Bessie ever acts or behaves as if she is the most important piece of the puzzle is when someone is playing retrieving games with her. She can be a little antsy during these times, but we understand.

I’ve said it before. The best way to make friends and influence people is to BE LIKE BESSIE. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

If You Think That’s Bad…

”Complaining is truly my strongest weakness.” Evinda Lepins

Complaining. We’re all guilty of it. For some people it seems to be an instinct, a compulsion or even an addiction. Listen carefully next time you have access to a group of adults carrying on a conversation. Almost always there will be complaining added mindlessly to the dialogue, like putting salt and pepper on a dish before even tasting it. Here’s a few examples: “Today is lovely…. but this summer has been the wettest and cloudiest I can remember.” “Dinner was delicious…. I just wish there were larger helpings.” “Our flight was on time, thank goodness….I couldn’t have handled another minute in that cramped seat with the screaming child behind us.”

See what I mean? And, a complaint by the initiator seems to fertilize similar thinking in the minds of listeners, who often feel compelled to offer their own tales of woe. Why do we do this? It’s like a weird game of poker where the rule is, “I’ll see your supposed tragedy, and raise it”, like this. “At least your flight was on time. We were stuck on the tarmac for 45 minutes after landing because there were no gates available, and the plane’s air conditioning wasn’t working.” And on it goes, complaints building on top of each other like a Lego tower. When it tips over, the rebuilding resumes enthusiastically, with new complaints.

The next time you are in a conversation, see how long you can carry on without slipping into this habitual pattern of finding something to complain about. Good luck. It takes conscious effort, like an artist painting a landscape being sure to capture the natural beauty, and only the beauty.

One of the most interesting varieties of complaining is what we’ll call the compounder. That’s when we end up complaining about a complainer. Example: “How was the visit with your in laws?” “Oh my goodness, terrible. All they did was complain about their health problems, inflation and Washington D.C. politics. All of that complaining just wore me out. They’re tough to take with their endless griping. And they didn’t pick up the tab when we went out for lunch.”

It's easy to lose interest when smothered in a conversation by an experienced complainer; the listener will sometimes drift off. When the complainer finally finishes naming all the precise reasons why a particular criticism is crucial and relevant, the supposed listener can be heard saying something like, “Okay, great”, before slipping off, leaving the puzzled complainer looking for a new ear to bend.

Consider changing the perspective of the constant complainers by asking more specific question, such as, “What did you enjoy most about your vacation?” or “What’s your favorite thing to do on rainy days?” If either of those, or similar questions prompt a direct complaint, it indicates an incurable, chronic condition and is probably not worth any corrective efforts.

By complaining less, legitimate grumbles get more attention; they are not camouflaged in a bundle. When a non-complainer complains, it gets your attention. Like when blind Bessie tells me through her facial expression or a certain bark that she has a complaint, I pay close attention. Her daily life is filled with endless frustrations and hardships that would inflame a typical human, yet she rarely if ever gripes. Bessie deals with the tough stuff and keeps wagging her tail. That amplifies exponentially what complaints she may have about important things, like a screen door she can’t open with her nose when her bladder is about to burst, or an empty water bowl on a steamy afternoon.

The next time you are complaining about something, listen carefully to yourself. That’s how you sound to others. Would you like to listen to that?

BE LIKE BESSIE!