Rob: April 2009 Archives

This morning, a representative of our employment agency passed along the substance of an email from a contractor she did identify reporting a rise in pranks, trash, and other "slack behavior" since the client's supervising staff have not been on-site.

From what I've seen, the pranks have not been at anyone's expense (though the nametag "Jose Cuervo" was disappointingly unclever, and that just hurts all of us). Telling these persons (or unpersons), to stop will probably only make their activities more intriguing and outrageous, like cutting the heads off of parking meters. However, I would caution them to make sure it won't be anything that our client would frown on. Think things through, then doublethink them. Like my big brother used to say, "Don't give them rope to hang ya with." Maybe instead of an outer party, make it an inner party.

The only trash I've seen has been the overflowing boxes of paper to be recycled. I took several of those boxes out yesterday. I know one person wads his waste paper and shoots for the box. Despite his commendable shooting percentage, I'd ask to make sure he picks up his own rebounds. Recycling isn't on our client's priority list, but I think it's something worthwhile for us to do. We'll try to make it prettier.

As for "slack behavior", we've seen no decrease in productivity, which I think in part is due not to "slack" but some relative de-stressing over the past several weeks, some of which, in turn, I attribute to a little levity. I will ask that you use your inside voices when chatting with each other, though. Some of our neighbors are very loud, and we don't want to be like them.

Still, we don't want anyone reporting it again to our agency representative and making her have to deal with it, Or, well, to the client. I will say that I was disappointed to find that it was someone on my team, and disappointed that the person didn't think they could come talk to me about it. If anyone has an issue with the work environment, I encourage them to, old employee or new, speak to me about it.

Thanks for your attention and cooperation.

 

So, here in our Concentrated Worker Production Facility, under the authoritarian glorious heel of our unnamed New York client giant financial information company, a small underground of harmless tricksters have been having some fun at absolutely no one's expense. Names on empty cubes had been changed to things like "Ricky Bobby", "Nancy Grace", "Kimbo Slice", "Tyler Durden", and, sadly, "Jose Cuervo" which I thought showed a truly disappointing lack of imagination that only hurts all of us.

 

When one contractor was mostly not probably wrongly accused of having a hand what could only be called domestic terrorism, the name on his cube mysteriously transmogrified into "Dr. Richard Kimball", and an OJ-like search was launched for the one-armed, two small-glove-wearing man who was truly to blame.

Since the beginning of the project, I'd used one of our unusable cubes as a home for our sign-in sheet, since we are, in fact, children, and time clocks and steam whistles would have actually cost money. After the first round of unexplained, unforeseeable layoffs, a day after team leads were assured that people would have a chance to remedy any shortcomings, the cube became known as the ******** Memorial Sign-In Sheet Cube and Penalty Box, in honor of our team's own fallen comrade.

Recently, following another layoff of 24 people that came a week after an angry assurance that rumors of an impending mass layoff were untrue, the names of our fallen were tacked up in the now-less-specifically-named Memorial Sign-In Sheet Cube and Penalty Box, along with the photo of the unknown fallen soldier seen in Battlestar Galactica (the reimagined series, since no one ever really died in the Lorne Greene version. Well, Starbuck did, but he came back as some sort of temp angel in a white flight suit to join the A-Team or something).

Clearly, this was the work of some probably nerdy fan of that show, which I have neither seen, nor purchased several seasons of on DVD. This morning, the very nice representative from our employment agency, who actually has a sense of humor, passed this along, having received it from one of the attorneys working here:

Since client's staff have been off-site, I have noticed an increase in pranks, trash being left around and other slack behavior. I thought I would bring this to your attention because I would hate to see negative consequences for everyone at this stage in the project.

I mean, really... what the frak? Clearly, this deserves a measured response, which I shall take the time to construct as part of my team lead duties.

I'm listening to friends sing, beautiful words in heart-stopping harmonies. I'm afraid that I'm losing the time to make beauty. I'm afraid that I'll be reduced to a mute spectator, in the catatonia of atrophied ability and hope. That's where my death lies.

Warning: This is long and tedious.

See, I bought a couple of tickets to the U2 show in... Norman, Okrahoma the other day. Yeah, I know. But I'll be in Chicago the weekend they're in Dallas, with frikkin' MUSE. Instead, I see them with the Black Eyed Peas, who I used to like, before they got Fergie and just started making butt dancing music.

But I digress.

So, I messed up, as you'll see. The fix should have been easy, but given it was Ticketbastard I was dealing with, and given that I was probably being punished for going to Norman, Okrahoma... well, you'll see.

 

Customer (Rob Hill)04/17/2009 11:40 AM EDT

Hi,

After my first purchase attempt returned an error message, I got in a rush to get my order entered, and didn't notice it had my old address in my profile.

I am now in #221, NOT #335 (I just changed my profile). My tickets will be delivered US Mail - can you please confirm they'll be sent to the proper address?

Thanks

 

* Subject* After my first purchase attempt returned an error message, I got in a rush to... * Discussion Thread* * (Alejandro_ZYS797)* 04/18/2009
09:43 PM EDT

Dear Rob,

Thank you for contacting us regarding order number 9-24547/DAL. We regret any inconvenience you have experienced. Our goal is to have tickets in the home of our customers within two weeks of an order being placed. However, all delivery times are approximate and sometimes delivery may be delayed. If earlier delivery is desired, we do offer the options of UPS shipping to the credit card billing address, as well as TicketFast delivery to your e-mail address for most events. An additional fee is assessed for both of these
delivery methods.

If you do not receive your tickets within 48 hours of the event, please contact us, and we will make arrangements to have replacement tickets held for you at the box office Will Call window on the day of the event.

You may confirm the status of your order (as well as your seat locations, venue, performance date, fulfillment status, total charges, etc.) by visiting My Ticketmaster on Ticketmaster.com. Simply sign in by clicking the My Ticketmaster link located near the top right side of the page to view your Order History.

Thank you for using Ticketmaster, where we continually strive to provide World Class Service to every customer, every day! We really appreciate your business, and hope we were able to resolve any problems or answer any questions you had. Please reply to this email if we may be of further assistance.

Sincerely,
Alejandro_ZYS797

 

Customer (Rob Hill)04/22/2009 03:25 PM EDT
Incident created due to reply to expired incident 090417-000728.

Thanks, but this didn't really respond to my issue - I simply need to know if these are being sent to the correct address - 2121 Dickson Dr. #221, rather than #335. I know that if I don't get them, I can contact you and have them held, etc., but I'd rather not go through all that, or risk driving from Austin, Texas and having some issue.

Thanks,

Rob Hill

 

(Roxanna_ZYS792)04/22/2009 03:45 PM EDT

Dear Rob,

Thank you for contacting us regarding order number 9-24547/DAL. The mailing address provided at the time of purchase and that paired up with the billing address of the credit card used for purchase is as follows:

ROB HILL
2121 DICKSON DR
APT 335\
AUSTIN, TX
78704-4791

Since the incorrect apartment number is set on the order, your tickets may not arrive in a timely manner or may be sent back to us for non-delivery. If such is the case, we will be able to place your tickets at will call to be picked up the day of the event.

Thank you for using Ticketmaster, where we continually strive to provide World Class Service to every customer, every day! We really appreciate your business, and hope we were able to resolve any problems or answer any questions you had. Please reply to this email if we may be of further assistance.

Sincerely,

Roxanna_ZYS792

 

Rob Hill  4/22  3:15PM

Thanks. Nothing personal to you customer service reps, but I can't help but wonder what a $8.10 "convenience fee" per ticket is for when a small change could have been made when I brought it to your attention shortly after the transaction, which would have avoided all this.
 
I guess when you have control of the shows I want to see, this is just the way it is...

If you can pass this along to someone, I'd appreciate it. I certainly hope there won't be an issue - I'm coming a long way for this show.
 
Thanks,
 
Rob Hill

 

(Isaiah_ZYS686)04/22/2009 04:21 PM EDT

Dear Rob,

Thank you for your e-mail. The convenience charge covers costs that allow Ticketmaster to provide the widest range of available tickets while giving you multiple ways to purchase. Tickets are available in many neighborhoods via local ticket outlet locations, our local charge-by-phone network and online at Ticketmaster.com. Tickets can be purchased through at least one distribution channel virtually 24 hours a day. The convenience charge varies by event and is determined by negotiations with arena operators, promoters and others based on costs for each event.

Also, the convenience charge will vary depending upon where you purchase the tickets. There is typically no convenience charge when you drive to a box office to purchase tickets. A convenience charge is applied when you purchase from the Internet, phone or ticket outlet (e.g., at your local department store) and this charge may vary depending upon Ticketmaster's local agreements with the venues, promoters and outlet partners.

Thank you for using Ticketmaster, where we continually strive to provide World Class Service to every customer, every day! We really appreciate your business, and hope we were able to resolve any problems or answer any questions you had. Please reply to this email if we may be of further assistance.

Sincerely,

Isaiah_ZYS686

 

Rob Hill  4/22  4:22PM

Oh, please spare me the boilerplate. The majority of businesses don't charge for "convenience fees" - they're subsumed into the overhead, which, given ticket prices, Ticketmaster should be substantially covering, particularly given the monopoly they seek to expand with their LiveNation merger.
 
Furthermore, customers don't have the option to avoid the convenience fees as your email suggests - as your own website says, "All Retail Outlet sales are subject to geographic restrictions." Can I buy a ticket to U2 in Norman, Oklahoma at an Austin retail outlet, and what would the fee be?
 
Of course, you offer the ticket auctioning option, just like you did for the Springsteen show.
 
As a musician, a fan of music, and an attorney, I hope for the good of everyone that not only does your proposed merger fail, but that it leads to further action against your company, that we've been pawns to for too long. I won't be purchasing any more tickets from Ticketmaster - if I have to miss the shows I really want to see, it will be worth saving the cost to my pocketbook, and my soul.
 
No thanks,
 
Rob Hill

Since getting a new car right in the middle of hail season, I learned to understand weather radar, and grudgingly began following the local news station's weather department on Twitter. I have occasionally gotten useful information about killer hailstorms moving through remote Texas counties, and more often get constant messages informing me that it's sunny outside, which is useful when I don't want to pop my head up out of my cube like a lonely gopher.

Last night, as I got home and closed the roof on the car, I got a Tweet asking viewers to send in their photos of the meteor shower.

I pictured people around Austin, living in the glare of their condo's colored lights or a big box store, rushing outside with tiny cellphones held up above them, ready to catch fleeting, momentary trails of fire, in skies where they could barely see the stars. So many of the things we want have taken the stars from us.

As a child, I spent most of my years with the well-defined and carefully-planned goal of being an astronaut. From an early age, I read outdated books by Gamov on the lives and deaths of stars. We lived in the country, with just our barbed-wire fence and tall grass between us and the city limits. Even with the lights of the highway, and the football stadium visible in the distance, over a mile away, the stars were out there to see.

I would look at star charts in Boy Scout books, and the little wheels showing the constellations and their positions in the sky at different times of the year and the night, but I couldn't make out the lines between them. I didn't see hunters and scorpions and mythical beasts. I couldn't even really see the big dipper. I saw a vast sea of potential and adventure pulling my eyes and heart upward, but not the patterns.

The other night, I drove back from a wedding two hours away, on a ranch deep in the country. My friend and I moved away from the house and tents and the lights of the dance floor, and despite the need to negotiate the rocky path beneath us, we gasped at the suddeness of the sky above, the stars bright enough to know they were other suns, burning with their own lives.

Despite the chill, we put the top down, drove fast and free on country roads. My friend was filled with simple joy, her hair buffeting around a smile constant even as she sang at the top of her lungs.

At this point in my life, I see the patterns, understand the familiarity and comfort humans have always felt in seeing familiar shapes up there. Some part of me is sad to know that the promise of the sky has been reduced to distant symbols. But on some nights, with a friend and music and the top down, I don't see a ceiling of darkness and points of light, but light years and lights years of heaven.

it was a good night. i need those, especially these days, where i can only seem to stay happy in those actual moments. so, the more i can have, and the longer i can stretch them out, the better.

a run with Neko. i went out too fast, and she got tired.

a shower, and a bath for Neko, then dinner with a friend.

then, down to Tiniest Bar, where Paul was playing covers and letting people sing with him. my voice has been hoarse and deep for weeks, but my low expectations were a good thing. "Faith", "Sweet Caroline" by request, accompanying Susie on "Major Tom", an attempt to coordinate four people singing "Sledgehammer", inspired by the giant sledgehammer sitting on the stage, and "Desire". i hadn't sang in a while, and needed that, too.

i started to turn in towards home, but the night was so cool and clear, and the top was down, so i headed to the highway, Dido, bursting up from the car to the full moon.

but i promise you you'll see the sun again

quick down the access road, tight through the turnaround. i feel the computer stability control question my choices, temper the wheelspin and sliding with subtle braking and throttle control. i turn the computer off.

hard, hard, hard, down the straight, the right turn behind Barton Creek Mall ahead, pull it down to third, not in a rush, plenty of time, but i think about swinging too wide through the turn, throwing an expeinsive alloy wheel into a curb. easy, easy, swing smoothly into the turn, power through, manage the tail coming out, and then i'm into it, the right turn sweeping smoothly through into a dip, the bottom just drops out beneath me, the chassis reaffirming itself with the road and gravity's certainty a split second before the road bends hard left.

the car settles, point it left, and it presses into the road, roars up the hill, third to fourth, and i'm aimed like a rocket into the sky up ahead. over the crest of the hill, pour the power on, maybe the tires won't stay with the road, and I'll be up there with the stars.

no. over the crest, the median narrows, the turnaround ahead. i see a man trudging along in a heavy jacket to my right, on the sidewalk, he hasn't turned yet in response to the banshees screaming up behind him, but as the full aural assault comes over the top of the hill, he does.

i don't have time to see his face - look at the turn, down, hard, into second, calipers pressing on giant drilled brakes, and i get it right, just right, just enough to circle the turnaround, the rear tires at the limit, then back on the power, so quickly back to 40, 50, 70, 80, on this narrow bit of road.

see the sun again

my throat, my voice are open to the sky, my eyes on the road, my heart somewhere in the stars, and I'm singing, and feeling the road rushing up through the car into my hands, the soles of my feet, through the seat into my legs. push, pull, as easily as if i were dancing, leading the car here through my right palm, as i'm following the momentum through with my left arm around her waist.

and now i'm crying a little, at the wonder of the music, at the freedom, at my body charged with the feel of speed and force, that sacred mix of control and abandon.

is this too much to ask? is this too much to want? it's too little, for either cause. everyone that knows their heart deserves these moments, these tiny moments of breaking free from the envelope, feeling the tenuousness of our grip on this road, feeling the power ready to be called forth, knowing how little we can truly apply without forcing our lives to break free of the surfaces we live on.

home again. the top comes up. marvin singing the national anthem, all that pain and joy. i step up and out of the car, kneel beside it, heat and the scent of rubber rising up from beneath it like some great beast returned to the stable. it settles, it's heart still hot like mine, cooling, dissipating its passion into the night that's become another day.