Madonna's Hung Up on Crack...
Go on... I bet ya can't resist laughing...
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Grandmother’s Story – The Potential of a Rubber Band.
Zero-point – a very popular rubber band game in my younger days. Excited to start my own ‘team’ of zero pointers, I got hold of a pack of brand new rubber bands and started to weave a rubber band rope. Just then, my grandma passed by my busy hands to watch me loop one rubber band to another to form the rope.“Oh, you shouldn’t use those new bands – you’d be disappointed with their performance. You should’ve asked me for old ones…” She looked at me in a certain manner and I knew there was going to be another lesson to be learnt.
One of the necessary characteristics of a rubber band rope is its stretchability. My grandmother promptly took up one of the new bands I bought and began to pull at two opposing ends. The unseasoned band snapped within five centimeters.
I sat there agape, looking at the woven rubber band rope that was at least already two meters long. I can’t possibly use that rope, it will snap even before I start using it.
My grandmother walked with a steady pace and I saw disappear into the light of the kitchen, framed by the doorway. She reappeared, holding in her hands a bag of rubber bands. They don’t look new. In fact, many of them looked darker and glossy – a collection of coloration from age and use.
“These rubber bands have been around.” She lifted one from out of the pack and continued, “I got this one from the butcher down at the market. He used it to fasten the paper wrapper he used to foil the meat”
I took the band from her hand and looked closely at it, thinking that I could probably observe some marks that might identify it with the Uncle Lim, the butcher whom grandma usually got her fresh meat from.
“He got it from the man who got it from the delivery man who supplies him the paper wrappers, who in turn got it from his supplier of raw materials and the chain goes on.”
I looked at the band even closer – I thought I actually saw some paper-ness and raw-material-ness in it. But I was promptly brought to my senses.
“You can’t see or trace where it came from or where it’s been.” She smiled and patted my head, “But you can tell by the way it feels and how it handles being stretched.”
She stroked and stretched another band in her hand. It was amazing how supple it was. In fact, I saw the rubber band stretch to an amazing length thrice its original!
“All rubber bands are made with the ability to stretch. That’s their nature.” She continued while looping the band in her hands. “But they must be slowly eased into it. If you try to pull it all the way at once, while it is still new, it reacts by snapping – destroying itself and hurting the person holding it. But if you let it yield slowly, looping it into progressively greater objects, it will stretch and manage itself well under the pressure. It will even prove itself to be very useful. You can’t tell all that just by looking at it, but you can see by observing how it behaves when you stretch it. It can do all that simply because it has been seasoned…”
My grandmother smiled lovingly as she handed the rest of the rubber bands on her lap to me. We sat together, side by side, making the rubber band rope until it was time for her to prepare dinner.
I sat there agape, looking at the woven rubber band rope that was at least already two meters long. I can’t possibly use that rope, it will snap even before I start using it.
My grandmother walked with a steady pace and I saw disappear into the light of the kitchen, framed by the doorway. She reappeared, holding in her hands a bag of rubber bands. They don’t look new. In fact, many of them looked darker and glossy – a collection of coloration from age and use.
“These rubber bands have been around.” She lifted one from out of the pack and continued, “I got this one from the butcher down at the market. He used it to fasten the paper wrapper he used to foil the meat”
I took the band from her hand and looked closely at it, thinking that I could probably observe some marks that might identify it with the Uncle Lim, the butcher whom grandma usually got her fresh meat from.
“He got it from the man who got it from the delivery man who supplies him the paper wrappers, who in turn got it from his supplier of raw materials and the chain goes on.”
I looked at the band even closer – I thought I actually saw some paper-ness and raw-material-ness in it. But I was promptly brought to my senses.
“You can’t see or trace where it came from or where it’s been.” She smiled and patted my head, “But you can tell by the way it feels and how it handles being stretched.”
She stroked and stretched another band in her hand. It was amazing how supple it was. In fact, I saw the rubber band stretch to an amazing length thrice its original!
“All rubber bands are made with the ability to stretch. That’s their nature.” She continued while looping the band in her hands. “But they must be slowly eased into it. If you try to pull it all the way at once, while it is still new, it reacts by snapping – destroying itself and hurting the person holding it. But if you let it yield slowly, looping it into progressively greater objects, it will stretch and manage itself well under the pressure. It will even prove itself to be very useful. You can’t tell all that just by looking at it, but you can see by observing how it behaves when you stretch it. It can do all that simply because it has been seasoned…”
My grandmother smiled lovingly as she handed the rest of the rubber bands on her lap to me. We sat together, side by side, making the rubber band rope until it was time for her to prepare dinner.
I guess I can use this lesson as I observe how organizations handle people management and how effective they are at manpower deployment. No matter how much potential you see in a person, you still need to ease one into the task.
Try to put the person straight to hold a task of great girth and one may snap. Like the rubber band, it thus destroys itself by burning out or something similar or worse, hurting oneself and all around. On the other hand, stretch one to the task, to one’s abilities, not only will the person be able to perform better, you can also prevent serious repercussions because with experience, through seasoning, one can handle oneself far better and with greater panache and flair.
Try to put the person straight to hold a task of great girth and one may snap. Like the rubber band, it thus destroys itself by burning out or something similar or worse, hurting oneself and all around. On the other hand, stretch one to the task, to one’s abilities, not only will the person be able to perform better, you can also prevent serious repercussions because with experience, through seasoning, one can handle oneself far better and with greater panache and flair.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
An unglorious Gloria Jeans
It is critical for the any establishment in the service industry to have a good ‘word-of-mouth’ record. I understand that and I always try my best to compliment. However, my coffee drinking experience at Gloria Jeans (VivoCity) left not only a bad taste in my mouth, but also a couple of emotional baggage.The rain on Saturday was incorrigible. But I must grab the opportunity that a weekend offers and go out. After a short stint at IKEA, I ventured off to VivoCity with the intention to laze at Starbucks® with a cuppa and my copy of Paul Coehlo.
Upon arrival, I passed by a candy store. Most of us would have heard of Candy Empire by now especially with their controversial and un-PC like denial of entry by wheelchair bound individuals. But then again, it’s not exactly surprising coming from a store whose namesake makes reference to what has been analogized with licensed cultural genocide and statutory national rape (A. Roy). Unable to resist, I went in to grab some goodies pre-laden with empty calories.
Judging from the crowd bustling in the shop, what Richard Branson said is true – there is no such thing as ‘bad publicity’. The queue snaked from the counter at one side of the shop right to the other. Here’s where I am totally miffed – the queue system is so bad, there were people who would just cut through the line, right under the cashiers’ noses (who are strangely oblivious to all that).
I tried to express my displeasure to the cashier who attended to me, but all I got was a wry grin of exasperation and an obligatory “ok”. Well, so much for the ‘empire’.
I thought a cup of my favourite brew at my favourite café would cheer me up. Alas, the Starbucks® at VivoCity was more crowded than a beehive in the summer. Being me, I thought I’d give the brand new Gloria Jeans outlet a try. After all, I have not tasted their coffee before.
In all truth, the coffee I was served tasted great. It was full-bodied and robust. That’s how I like my cuppa – bold and resting firmly on my tongue. I paired it with their Chocolate Obscenity – a chocolate banana cake topped with a thick layer (about two inches) of chocolate cream. It was a match made in Arabica Heaven.
Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for their service. I had been walking for miles before I decided to settle down on a seat in their café for a breather and leg rest. Before I headed for the counter to place my order, I left my bags of shopping, in their carriers on one of their banquettes. While waiting for my coffee to be served, I saw one of the staff cleaning my table of its previous occupants’ crockery.
However, when I return to my seat, to my horror, I noticed that water was splashed all over the table, onto the seat and inadvertently onto my shopping bags as well. A considerable amount of water also found its way into the bag and onto the contents. All these happened and the staff did not even bother to dry the seat or the bags.
I was appalled. The rudeness and the irresponsibility of the staff involved was just inconceivable at this day and age. Not only can I not sit on my chosen seat, even my shopping were all wet. Nevertheless I decided to give them a chance. I waited to se if any of the staff would approach me to apologize or explain.
Five minutes into my coffee and cake, I decided I had given them grace enough; besides, I need fresh carriers to transfer my shopping into. I approached the counter and told the staff on duty what happened.
“Oh, I am so sorry. You would need a new carrier wouldn’t you?” He promptly offered one to me and I asked for another. He obliged without hesitation and apologized again.
“It’s alright.” was my reply.
I was relieved that I was able to transfer my shopping into dry bags of course. However, under those circumstances, since it was through no fault of mine that my bags got wet, but rather the (ir)responsibility of the establishment that cause the distress, I was expecting more than just a couple of paper bags as compensation.
In the end I had to settle for an uncomfortable hard seat and I didn’t even get a chance to pull out my Paul Coehlo.
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