It’s been a funny old week, went to the TT which was fabulous fun if a tad noisy and popped “across” to bonny Scotland for my brother’s silver wedding party.
The company I work for was a major sponsor for this year’s TT races so we got complimentary tickets to the VIP area, I took M along for the day as we’d neither of us been to any of the events and were kinda curious.
We arrived at about 10 having parked in the VIP car park with our VIP pass and were greeted by a charming young lady from the company handling the event on behalf of the Manx government, she introduced herself and gave us our VIP passes and wrist bands before inviting us to partake of breakfast.
We had a lovely brekkie of Manx sausages and bacon with locally produced eggs and mushrooms, followed by a Muller yoghurt !
We were then escorted around the paddock by a TT representative and saw all the teams getting ready, wow the noise as 20 bikes were warmed up !
At last the race was due to begin and we had a special area on the start line to watch, seeing some lunatic hare off at 130 mph from 10 feet away is pretty impressive, after a bit we were taken onto the roof of the control tower, 8 flights of stairs nearly killed me, for a glass of champagne while we watched from the best view in the place.
It was a tad windy so after I’d taken some shots and we’d drunk our champagne we de-camped to the VIP tent by way of the concessions area, loads of bike stuff as you can imagine and every type of food available.
We wandered about a bit before heading back to the tent to watch the closing stages from the roof of the catering trailer, it was lovely to stand there with a cold beer on a baking day and watch these lunatics go by at ridiculously fast speeds.
The race ended and we headed down for lunch, not so bad Mediterranean chicken with rice and salad followed by loads of different flans to choose from.
The winners made an appearance and we got to chat and get autographs, then back on the course to watch the sidecar race, must be mad I tell ya !
The day ended at 4ish and we made our way home smiling, I can recommend it as a good corporate day out but I wouldn’t pay to go see it myself, not being a biker.
The following day we flew “across” to Scotland to stay with my nephew and his girlfriend in Stirling, we had a pleasant flight and my brother picked us up in his gas powered 4ltr Jag sadly we had to stop for a wee dram on the way and arrived suitably empowered.
We spent a couple of days out and about in Scotland and attended the big party, me in my new Manx Kilt and M in a lovely posh frock we purchased in Douglas for the occaision, we at least were lovely J
It was a fun night and good to catch up with people, some of whom I hadn’t seen since the wedding.
On the Monday we trolled back to Edinburgh airport and caught our flight home, only an hour delay thank you Logan Air.
It was good to get home and waking up to my fabulous bay view on Tuesday was a real pleasure.
Back at work now and busy as ever putting sites together for promotions and events.
Nothing to report on the work front or indeed customer service so I’ll close with this Manx joke.
Why are sea football matches so boring?
Too many goal-kippers.
Take care all,
John
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Black Hats White Hats and Hairy Bikers
Isn't it funny how you perceive your colleagues at work?
As many of you know I started a new job 4 months ago and slowly but surely the black hats and the white hats are emerging, I am beginning to see the people I work with in terms of friends and enemies, I know it's irrational and counter productive but I can't help it and I suspect that it's the same for a great many people.
Sometimes the black hats make a miraculous conversion into the ranks of light and sometimes one of the righteous defects to the dark side but once the ranks are drawn they do seem fairly stable.
The question is, why?
People don't get up in the morning and say to themselves, "today I'm going to act like an arse, be destructive and obstructive and make everyone's life a pain" and yet they then proceed to come into work and do exactly that ?
I'm sure Hitler thought he was a nice guy, Same for Pol Pot and Stalin etc. so are these people deluded or just unaware of the impact they have on others? Is it ignorance or arrogance?
Anyway onto the important stuf, how do we handle these blockers?
Well, after more years than I care to remember, of dealing with Seagull managers I've developed a few strategies for staying sane.
1. When you get one of those stupid/annoying/pathetic/aggravating e-mails from your seagull manager write your reply as soon as possible and when you've got it all down in black and white hit the Delete key.
Yes you heard me, Delete it, all those lovely smart answers chopping the legs out from under him, all those sly digs pointing out how stupid his arguments are etc. get rid of em and breathe a sigh of relief.
Why?
Because they won't do you any good, that carefully worded diatribe will just more deeply entrench his views and add fuel to the fire, it won't do you a bit of good and in fact quite the reverse, do you want to win the argument or win the war?
Ok, now you've consigned your first flush of anger down the cyber drain you can pen a sensible calm and collected reply that achieves what you actually want to achieve rather than just score points.
2. Yes sir, you're absolutely right, I'll get on it right away.
Ok you know he's wrong, you know it's the wrong thing to do and the wrong time to do it but at the end of the day will it kill you? Is it serious enough to actually warrant arguing about?
If it is then by all means engage in a dialog about it if, you think you stand an earthly chance of changing his mind but if you do, then do it later.
Go outside and kick a box to death, you'd be amazed just how therapeutic kicking a cardboard box to death is, next time you feel homicidal grab an old box and try it.
Then come back and work out your arguments before approaching him, explain your thinking and your position and if he's still ademant ask him to drop you a mail so you don't forget, in that way when it goes as you'd expected your arse is covered.
3. Never, never, never put anything disparaging in writing, ever, at all, under any circumstances whatsoever, at all at all ! Do you think I've stressed that enough?
Always assume that whatever you write about someone will fall into their hands, this has happened to me enough to know how embarrassing it can be, I would save you that pain if I could.
4. When you hear something awful from someone else go to the root of it and get the facts, I can't tell you how many times I've lost sleep over a perceived issue that later turned out to be nothing, I'd have saved myself an immense amount of grief if I'd only gone to the root and used one of the most simple of tools best expressed in the following poem.
"I keep six honest working men, they taught me all I know, their names are WHAT, WHY and WHEN, and HOW and WHERE and WHO"
Rudyard Kipling.
In other words, asked.
5. Manage your manager, discover what it is he values and give it to him, if he values facts then speak in figures, this project is 72% complete, if he values feelings go with I feel comfortable with this one, we'll bring it in on time. If he wants forward planning then talk about what you are doing next month, if he wants blue sky, talk concepts, details, talk minutiae, you get the picture.
It will also help if you can get to know their interests and try and share them, I once spent a weekend learning about crown green bowls because my boss played every weekend, I then endured 1/2 hr every Monday about Jacks and Ends and our relationship blossomed.
Ok so I know that's sneaky and underhand, dastardly even but I tell you this, it works !
Try it.
So what else has been happening in the last month I hear you ask?
Well it's TT fortnight here so we've been inundated with hairy bikers on big noisy machines, now before I came here I had a rather jaundiced view of bikers and the prospect of being surrounded by them filled me with dread, I'm here to tell you though that there has been no trouble at all.
I took my Wife M, down to the Bay Hotel on Saturday to see a live band and the place was heaving with them, not a problem, I had to ask one to step aside so I could get to the bar and he cleared my path for me, "man coming through for a drink lads, clear the way".
By the way The Bay Hotel in Port Erin serves the best food I've had on the island so far.
There are hoards of them everywhere speaking every language under the sun, Japanese bikers are interesting, and there's nothing but good natured banter and lots or revving up going on.
The issue with the Japanese and Korean web agencies has developed a little, it transpires that the Japanese company have done a far better job, so interestingly the Koreans were better at customer service but the Japanese were better at the job, more to come no doubt.
Take care all,
John
As many of you know I started a new job 4 months ago and slowly but surely the black hats and the white hats are emerging, I am beginning to see the people I work with in terms of friends and enemies, I know it's irrational and counter productive but I can't help it and I suspect that it's the same for a great many people.
Sometimes the black hats make a miraculous conversion into the ranks of light and sometimes one of the righteous defects to the dark side but once the ranks are drawn they do seem fairly stable.
The question is, why?
People don't get up in the morning and say to themselves, "today I'm going to act like an arse, be destructive and obstructive and make everyone's life a pain" and yet they then proceed to come into work and do exactly that ?
I'm sure Hitler thought he was a nice guy, Same for Pol Pot and Stalin etc. so are these people deluded or just unaware of the impact they have on others? Is it ignorance or arrogance?
Anyway onto the important stuf, how do we handle these blockers?
Well, after more years than I care to remember, of dealing with Seagull managers I've developed a few strategies for staying sane.
1. When you get one of those stupid/annoying/pathetic/aggravating e-mails from your seagull manager write your reply as soon as possible and when you've got it all down in black and white hit the Delete key.
Yes you heard me, Delete it, all those lovely smart answers chopping the legs out from under him, all those sly digs pointing out how stupid his arguments are etc. get rid of em and breathe a sigh of relief.
Why?
Because they won't do you any good, that carefully worded diatribe will just more deeply entrench his views and add fuel to the fire, it won't do you a bit of good and in fact quite the reverse, do you want to win the argument or win the war?
Ok, now you've consigned your first flush of anger down the cyber drain you can pen a sensible calm and collected reply that achieves what you actually want to achieve rather than just score points.
2. Yes sir, you're absolutely right, I'll get on it right away.
Ok you know he's wrong, you know it's the wrong thing to do and the wrong time to do it but at the end of the day will it kill you? Is it serious enough to actually warrant arguing about?
If it is then by all means engage in a dialog about it if, you think you stand an earthly chance of changing his mind but if you do, then do it later.
Go outside and kick a box to death, you'd be amazed just how therapeutic kicking a cardboard box to death is, next time you feel homicidal grab an old box and try it.
Then come back and work out your arguments before approaching him, explain your thinking and your position and if he's still ademant ask him to drop you a mail so you don't forget, in that way when it goes as you'd expected your arse is covered.
3. Never, never, never put anything disparaging in writing, ever, at all, under any circumstances whatsoever, at all at all ! Do you think I've stressed that enough?
Always assume that whatever you write about someone will fall into their hands, this has happened to me enough to know how embarrassing it can be, I would save you that pain if I could.
4. When you hear something awful from someone else go to the root of it and get the facts, I can't tell you how many times I've lost sleep over a perceived issue that later turned out to be nothing, I'd have saved myself an immense amount of grief if I'd only gone to the root and used one of the most simple of tools best expressed in the following poem.
"I keep six honest working men, they taught me all I know, their names are WHAT, WHY and WHEN, and HOW and WHERE and WHO"
Rudyard Kipling.
In other words, asked.
5. Manage your manager, discover what it is he values and give it to him, if he values facts then speak in figures, this project is 72% complete, if he values feelings go with I feel comfortable with this one, we'll bring it in on time. If he wants forward planning then talk about what you are doing next month, if he wants blue sky, talk concepts, details, talk minutiae, you get the picture.
It will also help if you can get to know their interests and try and share them, I once spent a weekend learning about crown green bowls because my boss played every weekend, I then endured 1/2 hr every Monday about Jacks and Ends and our relationship blossomed.
Ok so I know that's sneaky and underhand, dastardly even but I tell you this, it works !
Try it.
So what else has been happening in the last month I hear you ask?
Well it's TT fortnight here so we've been inundated with hairy bikers on big noisy machines, now before I came here I had a rather jaundiced view of bikers and the prospect of being surrounded by them filled me with dread, I'm here to tell you though that there has been no trouble at all.
I took my Wife M, down to the Bay Hotel on Saturday to see a live band and the place was heaving with them, not a problem, I had to ask one to step aside so I could get to the bar and he cleared my path for me, "man coming through for a drink lads, clear the way".
By the way The Bay Hotel in Port Erin serves the best food I've had on the island so far.
There are hoards of them everywhere speaking every language under the sun, Japanese bikers are interesting, and there's nothing but good natured banter and lots or revving up going on.
The issue with the Japanese and Korean web agencies has developed a little, it transpires that the Japanese company have done a far better job, so interestingly the Koreans were better at customer service but the Japanese were better at the job, more to come no doubt.
Take care all,
John
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Tough spots and yellow spots and some as big as your head
Since I last wrote a blog my wife M has been in hospital, her long standing kidney problems flared up, now those of you who have been reading my blog for some time will remember the "treatment" she received at Mayday "Hospital" in Croydon and I'm here to tell you that the I've found another reason to move to the Isle of Man and it's called Nobles Hospital.
Nobles Hospital is only three years old and is set in lovely grounds just outside Douglas but it's the staff who make it superb, we turned up at 9:30pm on a Sunday and after a wait of 10 minutes a charming doctor came out to get us.
He took us into an examination room and took a look at the lump that had developed on M's side, I'm not exaggerating when I say it was 2 inches tall and about 5 inches across with patches of yellow where the puss was trying to get out.
Immediately he said he would admit her and I was glad to have brought M's emergency bag with me, she keeps a bag packed for going to hospital and I'd remembered to grab it on the way out. He wrote out a letter for the ward, made a call and then, and this I couldn't believe, went and got a wheelchair and wheeled her down to the ward himself !
This was a taster of the treatment to come.
When we arrived the night nurse introduced herself to us both and took us to M's bed, she asked us all the usual questions and then proceeded to tell us about their dignity policy ! and then wonder of wonders about M's proposed treatment ! Sorry for the multiple exclamation marks but I still can't get over it.
M was in some pain as you can imagine and having ascertained that she had a bad reaction to the proscribed pain killers she got the doctor to write M up for a shot of morphine, I say shot but it was a sachet she had to swallow, she had just enough time to tell me it tasted like lemon juice before she was unconscious, I left her then comfortable in the knowledge that she would be well looked after.
I can tell you now this wasn't a one off, M continued to receive excellent treatment from everybody right up till she was discharged today, the wounds in her side, yes the lump exploded and had to be drained, will have to be dressed once a day and they have already arranged for a district nurse to come in and do it.
I probably shouldn't be telling you this in case you all move here and spoil the place ;)
I've been studying someone at work this week, it's immensely amusing to watch them struggle against nature, this individual thinks the world owes them a living like all young adults and it's so funny watching them try all the stuff I did when I was their age, god I feel old lol.
Been having a fascinating argument with one of our suppliers this week, I asked for a fix they said it would break something, I proved that was rubbish they said it couldn't be done, I proved it could, they said it couldn't be done on the hardware we use and that it was them or me, I said I'd hate for them to go on my account, so they won the battle but it's a long war and this isn't the end of the matter by a long shot lol, you can count on me keeping you informed.
You know it's funny how people paint themselves into a corner for the sake of pride, they make one stupid statement and then they feel they have to defend it, and like quicksand they fall deeper and deeper into their own morass defending one stupid argument with another and another until they look like the fools they are.
So how do we avoid that trap? I hear you ask in that quiet but expectant way of yours.
I make mistakes all the time, shocked?
Didn't hurt a bit that, tell ya something else, it's the cure for the above problem too.
"I'm sorry I made a mistake, what I should have said was...."
Now how hard is that, honestly?
Next time you find yourself in a self created untenable position, try it, you'll be amazed how powerful that one little phrase is, it sets you free from your own mistakes and gains credibility, yes admitting that you were wrong actually increases your credibility.
Ok I'm not saying being wrong all the time is the way to go, look at Tony Blair, but when you are wrong a quick admission will actually improve how you are perceived, see Billy Graham for an excellent example.
Ok enough about admitting mistakes and on with some new ones ;)
Take care all,
John
Nobles Hospital is only three years old and is set in lovely grounds just outside Douglas but it's the staff who make it superb, we turned up at 9:30pm on a Sunday and after a wait of 10 minutes a charming doctor came out to get us.
He took us into an examination room and took a look at the lump that had developed on M's side, I'm not exaggerating when I say it was 2 inches tall and about 5 inches across with patches of yellow where the puss was trying to get out.
Immediately he said he would admit her and I was glad to have brought M's emergency bag with me, she keeps a bag packed for going to hospital and I'd remembered to grab it on the way out. He wrote out a letter for the ward, made a call and then, and this I couldn't believe, went and got a wheelchair and wheeled her down to the ward himself !
This was a taster of the treatment to come.
When we arrived the night nurse introduced herself to us both and took us to M's bed, she asked us all the usual questions and then proceeded to tell us about their dignity policy ! and then wonder of wonders about M's proposed treatment ! Sorry for the multiple exclamation marks but I still can't get over it.
M was in some pain as you can imagine and having ascertained that she had a bad reaction to the proscribed pain killers she got the doctor to write M up for a shot of morphine, I say shot but it was a sachet she had to swallow, she had just enough time to tell me it tasted like lemon juice before she was unconscious, I left her then comfortable in the knowledge that she would be well looked after.
I can tell you now this wasn't a one off, M continued to receive excellent treatment from everybody right up till she was discharged today, the wounds in her side, yes the lump exploded and had to be drained, will have to be dressed once a day and they have already arranged for a district nurse to come in and do it.
I probably shouldn't be telling you this in case you all move here and spoil the place ;)
I've been studying someone at work this week, it's immensely amusing to watch them struggle against nature, this individual thinks the world owes them a living like all young adults and it's so funny watching them try all the stuff I did when I was their age, god I feel old lol.
Been having a fascinating argument with one of our suppliers this week, I asked for a fix they said it would break something, I proved that was rubbish they said it couldn't be done, I proved it could, they said it couldn't be done on the hardware we use and that it was them or me, I said I'd hate for them to go on my account, so they won the battle but it's a long war and this isn't the end of the matter by a long shot lol, you can count on me keeping you informed.
You know it's funny how people paint themselves into a corner for the sake of pride, they make one stupid statement and then they feel they have to defend it, and like quicksand they fall deeper and deeper into their own morass defending one stupid argument with another and another until they look like the fools they are.
So how do we avoid that trap? I hear you ask in that quiet but expectant way of yours.
I make mistakes all the time, shocked?
Didn't hurt a bit that, tell ya something else, it's the cure for the above problem too.
"I'm sorry I made a mistake, what I should have said was...."
Now how hard is that, honestly?
Next time you find yourself in a self created untenable position, try it, you'll be amazed how powerful that one little phrase is, it sets you free from your own mistakes and gains credibility, yes admitting that you were wrong actually increases your credibility.
Ok I'm not saying being wrong all the time is the way to go, look at Tony Blair, but when you are wrong a quick admission will actually improve how you are perceived, see Billy Graham for an excellent example.
Ok enough about admitting mistakes and on with some new ones ;)
Take care all,
John
Friday, April 20, 2007
The Bad the Good and the Far Far Away.
Been a busy week for me at work and at home and you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve finally found some poor service on the Isle of Man.
The local chip shop in Port Erin, where I’m living now Port Erin not the chip shop, does reasonable fare at only slightly extortionate prices but the service wow !
I went in this week, for the last time, and tried to order 2 Cod and chips, not a hard task in a chippy you’d have thought, sadly in this chippy you would be wrong.
I approached the counter and said with a smile on my face to the girl in the dirty polo shirt behind it, “2 cod and 1 large chips please” nothing.
I tried again “2 cod and 1 large chips please” still nothing, she looked at me with that vacant stare only the teenager can truly master.
I moved along the counter and tried again with the next scruffy looking counter girl, “2 cod and 1 large chips please” at last something happened, she sniffed.
My smile was beginning to slip at this point as you can imagine, had my wife not expressed a particular desire for Fish and Chips I’d have walked out, “2 cod and 1 large chips please !”
“That’llbe£8.95please” she mumbled at me.
I duly handed over the last money they will see from me or anyone I can influence and waited, and waited, and waited.
At last the scruffy looking Fryer finished frying my fish and the counter girl proceeded to wrap it for me, “syouwantsaltnvingeronthchips?” she mumbled.
“Yes please” I boomed with my broadest most annoying smile on my face.
She deigned to hand me the fish and chips in two packages, with no bag, I thanked her grinning aggravatingly and left.
Now despite appearances I don’t eat a lot of fish and chips, I guess once a month or so when my wife fancies it but at nearly £9 a shot that works out at £108 pa, if I stay here till I retire that’s a potential £2592 not accounting for inflation, if you factor in how many people I will tell about it between now and my retirement and who will consequently not buy there you could be talking more than £50,000 in lost revenue and that’s if I don’t start writing for the Manx papers and spread the news even wider.
I do hope they enjoyed their little bit of truculence.
On the plus side this week I encountered a tailor in Douglas (capital of the Isle of Man) who was the essence of excellent customer service.
I’d popped in to buy a new pair of work trousers and was directed downstairs to the gentleman’s fitting area.
The salesman immediately came round from behind his counter to serve me, “Good afternoon sir how may I help?”
I explained what I was looking for and casting his expert eye across me he handed me a pair of black trousers 52” waist short leg, pretty good considering I take a 50” waist.
I asked for the next size down, he told me that he didn’t have any short legs in size 50” but if I’d try on a pair of medium length he would alter them for me.
I tried them on and they fitted around the waist perfectly but were a tad long in the leg, he duly pinned them up for me and told me they would be ready on Wednesday.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked and when I said no he took me to the till to pay, “there’s nothing to pay on the alteration so that’s just £30.00” he said.
I was amazed, free alteration on a pair of trousers worth £30, actually they are worth more than that, the quality of material and workmanship is excellent.
I paid and he escorted me to the door, “See you on Wednesday” he said smiling and I left with that good old warm feeling I’ve come to expect over here.
Work this week has been full of triumph and disaster in equal amounts and I won’t bore you with the details except to tell you about some third party developers I’m working with.
I am producing two sites for the far east, one for Korea and one for Japan, I sent the two web agencies, in the respective countries, exactly the same files, a complete copy of the uk site with instructions to convert it to the appropriate languages.
The Korean agency have finished, the Japanese agency have barely started, I’ve been working with the Korean agency to get it right, the Japanese agency has ignored me and simply keeps requesting the same information over and over again.
I am forced to wonder whether we have a.) selected the wrong Japanese agency or b.) is this a cultural difference?
I’ve always been very impressed with the Japanese people’s work ethic but I find it no surprise that Korea are overtaking them based upon this experience.
I’ll let you know how my little experiment in cultural differences goes.
Well fastyr mie (good afternoon), as they say around here.
Take care,
John
The local chip shop in Port Erin, where I’m living now Port Erin not the chip shop, does reasonable fare at only slightly extortionate prices but the service wow !
I went in this week, for the last time, and tried to order 2 Cod and chips, not a hard task in a chippy you’d have thought, sadly in this chippy you would be wrong.
I approached the counter and said with a smile on my face to the girl in the dirty polo shirt behind it, “2 cod and 1 large chips please” nothing.
I tried again “2 cod and 1 large chips please” still nothing, she looked at me with that vacant stare only the teenager can truly master.
I moved along the counter and tried again with the next scruffy looking counter girl, “2 cod and 1 large chips please” at last something happened, she sniffed.
My smile was beginning to slip at this point as you can imagine, had my wife not expressed a particular desire for Fish and Chips I’d have walked out, “2 cod and 1 large chips please !”
“That’llbe£8.95please” she mumbled at me.
I duly handed over the last money they will see from me or anyone I can influence and waited, and waited, and waited.
At last the scruffy looking Fryer finished frying my fish and the counter girl proceeded to wrap it for me, “syouwantsaltnvingeronthchips?” she mumbled.
“Yes please” I boomed with my broadest most annoying smile on my face.
She deigned to hand me the fish and chips in two packages, with no bag, I thanked her grinning aggravatingly and left.
Now despite appearances I don’t eat a lot of fish and chips, I guess once a month or so when my wife fancies it but at nearly £9 a shot that works out at £108 pa, if I stay here till I retire that’s a potential £2592 not accounting for inflation, if you factor in how many people I will tell about it between now and my retirement and who will consequently not buy there you could be talking more than £50,000 in lost revenue and that’s if I don’t start writing for the Manx papers and spread the news even wider.
I do hope they enjoyed their little bit of truculence.
On the plus side this week I encountered a tailor in Douglas (capital of the Isle of Man) who was the essence of excellent customer service.
I’d popped in to buy a new pair of work trousers and was directed downstairs to the gentleman’s fitting area.
The salesman immediately came round from behind his counter to serve me, “Good afternoon sir how may I help?”
I explained what I was looking for and casting his expert eye across me he handed me a pair of black trousers 52” waist short leg, pretty good considering I take a 50” waist.
I asked for the next size down, he told me that he didn’t have any short legs in size 50” but if I’d try on a pair of medium length he would alter them for me.
I tried them on and they fitted around the waist perfectly but were a tad long in the leg, he duly pinned them up for me and told me they would be ready on Wednesday.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked and when I said no he took me to the till to pay, “there’s nothing to pay on the alteration so that’s just £30.00” he said.
I was amazed, free alteration on a pair of trousers worth £30, actually they are worth more than that, the quality of material and workmanship is excellent.
I paid and he escorted me to the door, “See you on Wednesday” he said smiling and I left with that good old warm feeling I’ve come to expect over here.
Work this week has been full of triumph and disaster in equal amounts and I won’t bore you with the details except to tell you about some third party developers I’m working with.
I am producing two sites for the far east, one for Korea and one for Japan, I sent the two web agencies, in the respective countries, exactly the same files, a complete copy of the uk site with instructions to convert it to the appropriate languages.
The Korean agency have finished, the Japanese agency have barely started, I’ve been working with the Korean agency to get it right, the Japanese agency has ignored me and simply keeps requesting the same information over and over again.
I am forced to wonder whether we have a.) selected the wrong Japanese agency or b.) is this a cultural difference?
I’ve always been very impressed with the Japanese people’s work ethic but I find it no surprise that Korea are overtaking them based upon this experience.
I’ll let you know how my little experiment in cultural differences goes.
Well fastyr mie (good afternoon), as they say around here.
Take care,
John
Saturday, April 14, 2007
The Milkman is in the house
Ok it’s a week after Monte Carlo and I’m just about recovered !
1st thing to say about Monte Carlo is OMG, How much ? !!!!
A beer in MC costs 20 Euro’s about £11 as does a sandwich, well it did in my hotel anyway. Ok it is pretty but not that pretty.
2nd thing to say about MC is it’s full of Tossers, rich ones to be sure but still Tossers of the first water.
Not being a small chap it wasn’t so easy for them to brush me aside as I saw them doing to my smaller friends and they got most upset when I didn’t fall back in awe at their designer suits and sunglasses, one of them got extremely annoyed when I “accidentally” stepped on his designer clad foot as he was trying to push me aside to get to the bar before me.
I did try to explain that being English I wasn’t at all phased by his apparent wealth or lack of manners and that if he thought I was going to move aside for euro-trash he had another think coming but I’m afraid his lack of linguistic skills and my complete indifference to his feelings meant I was forced to resort to pointing at him, pointing at a small space behind me and forcibly placing him back in the queue.
Bless him he stood where I’d put him desperately trying to look like that was exactly where the in-crowd stood while waiting to be served and I was not forced to dirty his shoes again on the way out.
3rd thing to say about MC is it’s heaven for car fanatics, after a couple of days of walking past Ferraris and Roll Royces by the dozen I was more impressed by a guy who rolled up in front of the Monaco Bay Hotel in a Triumph Herald convertible.
Anyway, what did I learn while I was there I hear you ask, sick to death of MC already, something that happened to me after they started drilling outside my hotel window at 8am on the first morning !
Well I saw 700 odd poker players vying for the top prize of 1.8 million euros, I mean playing cards for that sort of money is obscene isn’t it? Anyway they played for a week and eventually a 25year old won the top prize and we were all most relieved I can tell you.
I was there to stream the event over the web and it went swimmingly, I’m not allowed to reveal the figures but you’d be amazed at how many people tuned in to watch 8 blokes sitting around a table fiddling with bits of card.
I hadn’t known just what a huge business Poker is, the money companies were spending on it not to mention the money people who’d been knocked out were wagering on side games was immense, at one point a guy in his twenties was wondering around trying to find someone to play him head to head for 25,000 euros, which he had with him in a brown paper envelope !
My hotel was crammed full of excellent service, from the bellboys to the manager and everyone in between and as I was booking out I thought that a stint here would do a lot for customer relations at most of the hotels I’ve stayed at in the UK.
While I was there I did play some poker myself in the company sit and go tournament where I acquired a nick name “the Milkman” for my habit of milking players for their chips and cashed out twice in three games.
The next day one of the journo’s that we’d let play paid me a huge compliment, “if you go professional you should definitely keep that name” he said and I nearly fell over !
There’s no danger of me going professional or even playing for real money but it was a lovely compliment and quite made my week.
I’ve now borrowed a company book, “The Dummys book of Poker” and am reading with interest about pot odds etc. which is fascinating and mostly pretty incomprehensible but I’ll persevere and see if I can improve any.
The weather here is wonderful at the moment and people are swimming in the bay as I write, mad of course but a good indication of how lovely it is. I look out of my windows and marvel anew at just how lucky I am and hope all of you are well and prospering.
Take care,
John
1st thing to say about Monte Carlo is OMG, How much ? !!!!
A beer in MC costs 20 Euro’s about £11 as does a sandwich, well it did in my hotel anyway. Ok it is pretty but not that pretty.
2nd thing to say about MC is it’s full of Tossers, rich ones to be sure but still Tossers of the first water.
Not being a small chap it wasn’t so easy for them to brush me aside as I saw them doing to my smaller friends and they got most upset when I didn’t fall back in awe at their designer suits and sunglasses, one of them got extremely annoyed when I “accidentally” stepped on his designer clad foot as he was trying to push me aside to get to the bar before me.
I did try to explain that being English I wasn’t at all phased by his apparent wealth or lack of manners and that if he thought I was going to move aside for euro-trash he had another think coming but I’m afraid his lack of linguistic skills and my complete indifference to his feelings meant I was forced to resort to pointing at him, pointing at a small space behind me and forcibly placing him back in the queue.
Bless him he stood where I’d put him desperately trying to look like that was exactly where the in-crowd stood while waiting to be served and I was not forced to dirty his shoes again on the way out.
3rd thing to say about MC is it’s heaven for car fanatics, after a couple of days of walking past Ferraris and Roll Royces by the dozen I was more impressed by a guy who rolled up in front of the Monaco Bay Hotel in a Triumph Herald convertible.
Anyway, what did I learn while I was there I hear you ask, sick to death of MC already, something that happened to me after they started drilling outside my hotel window at 8am on the first morning !
Well I saw 700 odd poker players vying for the top prize of 1.8 million euros, I mean playing cards for that sort of money is obscene isn’t it? Anyway they played for a week and eventually a 25year old won the top prize and we were all most relieved I can tell you.
I was there to stream the event over the web and it went swimmingly, I’m not allowed to reveal the figures but you’d be amazed at how many people tuned in to watch 8 blokes sitting around a table fiddling with bits of card.
I hadn’t known just what a huge business Poker is, the money companies were spending on it not to mention the money people who’d been knocked out were wagering on side games was immense, at one point a guy in his twenties was wondering around trying to find someone to play him head to head for 25,000 euros, which he had with him in a brown paper envelope !
My hotel was crammed full of excellent service, from the bellboys to the manager and everyone in between and as I was booking out I thought that a stint here would do a lot for customer relations at most of the hotels I’ve stayed at in the UK.
While I was there I did play some poker myself in the company sit and go tournament where I acquired a nick name “the Milkman” for my habit of milking players for their chips and cashed out twice in three games.
The next day one of the journo’s that we’d let play paid me a huge compliment, “if you go professional you should definitely keep that name” he said and I nearly fell over !
There’s no danger of me going professional or even playing for real money but it was a lovely compliment and quite made my week.
I’ve now borrowed a company book, “The Dummys book of Poker” and am reading with interest about pot odds etc. which is fascinating and mostly pretty incomprehensible but I’ll persevere and see if I can improve any.
The weather here is wonderful at the moment and people are swimming in the bay as I write, mad of course but a good indication of how lovely it is. I look out of my windows and marvel anew at just how lucky I am and hope all of you are well and prospering.
Take care,
John
Monte Carlo or Bust
Well I’m sitting outside a bar in Milan at 11:20 am waiting for a train to Monte Carlo which doesn’t leave until 3:05pm so I thought I’d jot down a few things for you dear readers.
As you will recall from my last entry we are happily ensconced on the Isle of Man now and it’s lovely, so why I hear you ask am I in Milan ?
Well this weekend is the final of the Eurpoean Poker Tour and it’s being held in the casino at Monte Carlo, I’m in Milan because the French government are being silly about online Poker companies and may well arrest me if I go into their territory so I’m having to go via Italy, which is a right royal pain I can tell you.
I assume they are being like this because they don’t get any taxes on the money people win or lose online, just like the US.
That aside I’m really looking forward to my first major Poker event, I’ve seen the pictures of the hotel and the salon and it looks lovely and the guys who’ve been there since it started on Tuesday are very upbeat about it.
The tournament runs from Tuesday through to the following Monday and we had over 500 entries at $10,000 a ticket ! I can’t imagine paying that much money just to sit down at a table and play cards but then I’m no poker fanatic.
Undeniably people can win a lot of money playing this game and there are any number of professional poker players who do nothing else so it can’t be all down to luck but it doesn’t appeal to me at all.
When the professionals turned up on Monday there were no cards around so they all got $100 dollar bills out of their pockets and the one with the highest serial number won !!! It’s madness I tell you.
Is there a place for that sort of mania I ask myself and this led me on to think about obsession and its place in my life.
I’m obsessed with very few things in my life, I love what I do for a living and if I wasn’t being paid for it I’d probably still do it for free but am I obsessed, I don’t know, what is the definition of obsession?
Do you have to be obsessed to be successful?
One of my greatest friends has just been made deputy under editor, third on the left at Computer Weekly and he is as happy as a journo in a cess pit, now he works harder than any man I know at whatever he wants to achieve, but is he obsessed?
How can you tell?
I’ve had calls from him at 3am discussing his work so I guess he’s the closest thing to obsessed I know, does it bring him happiness, well fairly obviously it does at the moment but is that caused by the obsession or the results of that obsession?
I must ask him next time we speak.
This last fortnight have been all go for me, the level of work I’m getting through is astounding even to me , as an exercise I’m keeping a note of everything I do and I’m up to 7 A4 pages so far this month, it’s a worthwhile task as it really gives you an idea of what you are doing, if you end up with half a page of A4 at the end of the month you might want to consider if you’re in the right job.
Looking at the truly successful people I know they all get through mountains of work and funnily enough they all seem to smile quite a bit, hmmmm wonder if there’s a connection?
You know sitting here and here is a small square outside Milan Central Station I’m reminded quite forcibly of Croydon, there are office blocks and apartment buildings all around me, trams trundle past full of sad looking people and cars rush around like worker ants in a disturbed nest, no one seems to have time or seems to be particularly happy with their lots.
Yet just now a delivery man came to see what I was writing, he earnestly asked me something in Italian which I took to mean what are you writing squire and I had to smile and explain that I was English and could speak only a little Italian, he smiled and told me that he was a delivery man, pointing unnecessarily at the box on his shoulder and pointing at the post office a little along from me said something else to the effect of I’m delivering this to the post office, Chow he said and wandered off a huge grin on his face.
2 minutes later he was back and though we couldn’t converse made me understand that I was welcome to his city, Chow he said again as he left to drive furiously off in his little red van, obsessed? No I don’t think so but happy yes, so perhaps there’s more than one way to happiness.
Take care all,
John
As you will recall from my last entry we are happily ensconced on the Isle of Man now and it’s lovely, so why I hear you ask am I in Milan ?
Well this weekend is the final of the Eurpoean Poker Tour and it’s being held in the casino at Monte Carlo, I’m in Milan because the French government are being silly about online Poker companies and may well arrest me if I go into their territory so I’m having to go via Italy, which is a right royal pain I can tell you.
I assume they are being like this because they don’t get any taxes on the money people win or lose online, just like the US.
That aside I’m really looking forward to my first major Poker event, I’ve seen the pictures of the hotel and the salon and it looks lovely and the guys who’ve been there since it started on Tuesday are very upbeat about it.
The tournament runs from Tuesday through to the following Monday and we had over 500 entries at $10,000 a ticket ! I can’t imagine paying that much money just to sit down at a table and play cards but then I’m no poker fanatic.
Undeniably people can win a lot of money playing this game and there are any number of professional poker players who do nothing else so it can’t be all down to luck but it doesn’t appeal to me at all.
When the professionals turned up on Monday there were no cards around so they all got $100 dollar bills out of their pockets and the one with the highest serial number won !!! It’s madness I tell you.
Is there a place for that sort of mania I ask myself and this led me on to think about obsession and its place in my life.
I’m obsessed with very few things in my life, I love what I do for a living and if I wasn’t being paid for it I’d probably still do it for free but am I obsessed, I don’t know, what is the definition of obsession?
Do you have to be obsessed to be successful?
One of my greatest friends has just been made deputy under editor, third on the left at Computer Weekly and he is as happy as a journo in a cess pit, now he works harder than any man I know at whatever he wants to achieve, but is he obsessed?
How can you tell?
I’ve had calls from him at 3am discussing his work so I guess he’s the closest thing to obsessed I know, does it bring him happiness, well fairly obviously it does at the moment but is that caused by the obsession or the results of that obsession?
I must ask him next time we speak.
This last fortnight have been all go for me, the level of work I’m getting through is astounding even to me , as an exercise I’m keeping a note of everything I do and I’m up to 7 A4 pages so far this month, it’s a worthwhile task as it really gives you an idea of what you are doing, if you end up with half a page of A4 at the end of the month you might want to consider if you’re in the right job.
Looking at the truly successful people I know they all get through mountains of work and funnily enough they all seem to smile quite a bit, hmmmm wonder if there’s a connection?
You know sitting here and here is a small square outside Milan Central Station I’m reminded quite forcibly of Croydon, there are office blocks and apartment buildings all around me, trams trundle past full of sad looking people and cars rush around like worker ants in a disturbed nest, no one seems to have time or seems to be particularly happy with their lots.
Yet just now a delivery man came to see what I was writing, he earnestly asked me something in Italian which I took to mean what are you writing squire and I had to smile and explain that I was English and could speak only a little Italian, he smiled and told me that he was a delivery man, pointing unnecessarily at the box on his shoulder and pointing at the post office a little along from me said something else to the effect of I’m delivering this to the post office, Chow he said and wandered off a huge grin on his face.
2 minutes later he was back and though we couldn’t converse made me understand that I was welcome to his city, Chow he said again as he left to drive furiously off in his little red van, obsessed? No I don’t think so but happy yes, so perhaps there’s more than one way to happiness.
Take care all,
John
Monday, March 19, 2007
There and back again.
Well as you know I was due to move to the Isle of Man on the 28th of February and indeed I did, and so did my three cats and all my furniture but there were a couple of things that didn't, my passport and my wife.
I have absolutely no idea where my passport went but I do know where Margaret went and sadly it was to Mayday Hospital in Croydon.
Margaret had been unwell for a while and the day before we moved she became so unwell we had to go to casualty at 9am, we knew what was wrong as it was a reoccurrence of her kidney stones and we duly informed the doctors who as usual took forever to turn up and then didn't listen, so after a battery of tests they finally decided she had kidney stones and admitted her at about 10pm.
I was sent home with a shopping list of clothes and necessaries to prepare for the big move, I couldn't delay it as we had tenants due to move in at the weekend, the removers booked the ferry booked and the keys to the new flat under a stone waiting.
The next day I had to cope with the removers packing, as well as see Margaret and say goodbye, leaving her to the tender mercies of a hospital we knew from previous experience would show her little to no care or consideration.
My sister Penny, bless her came over and supervised the packing and me and allowed me to pop down to Mayday and see Margaret for a tearful goodbye, I delivered the ordered necessaries and took my leave of my wife for god knows how long.
At last the removers were on their way and at 3:30 I stuffed the cats in their boxes in the car and set off for Heysham to the tune of MEOW MEOW MEOW.
Penny had so kindly offered to come with me but I declined as I was already pretty tearful with all the goodbyes and I couldn't prolong it nor inconvenience her so much.
Driving from Croydon to Heysham is not fun, especially to the tune of MEOW MEOW MEOW !
I finally arrived at about 10:30 only to find that the ferry was 4 hrs late due to the extreme weather conditions, force 8 gales in the Irish Sea !
I sat there in the 4 degree car park slowly freezing my balls off listening to the now thankfully silent cats and the radio, I can seriously not recommend Heysham Docks as a holiday destination.
At last about 2:30am we embarked and the first good news of the day came when a steward kindly helped me to the cabin with the cats, litter, food etc.
I'd sensibly booked a pet cabin so that they could come out and they were mighty pleased to do so as you can imagine, I fed them and littered them and went to bed.
Well the boat left, the Ben Machree btw, as is their wont and it wasn't long before we were out in the force 8 gale, now I don’t know if you've ever been out in a force 8 but I can tell you it's highly amusing to be clinging to a bed for dear life while a cat gets seasick.
Poor old Teddy was most unwell much to the amusement of the other two who were looking at him with that "you pussy" look on their faces that only cats and women have.
At last we arrived after hours of purgatory and no sleep, into the boxes went the cats, I washed up the bowls and the litter tray and another steward helped me back to the car before we drove off the boat and onto the Isle of Man proper.
I drove us slowly to the new flat unloaded the car and the cats and blew up my inflatable mattress, climbing into my sleeping bag I headed for dreamland as fast as I could.
Exactly 1hr 32 mins later the phone started ringing with people from work asking me questions, just as I was dropping off the phone would ring and eventually I gave up and had a shower and headed off to sort out my gas and electric.
God knows how I got through that day and managed to sort out my gas and electric bills as well as visiting the office and doing some shopping but I did.
I spent the next three days searching for my passport as I was due to fly to Dortmund the following Friday for the European Poker Tour German leg, I had to buy 5 self assembly shelving units from B&Q in order to get my stuff out of the boxes which the removers had kindly delivered on Friday but with no luck.
On Monday I went into work at 8am and started the business of catching up with the work I'd missed since Tuesday last week, my phone rang and it was Margaret with some terrible news, the doctor's had just delivered, as well as her kidneys they'd found an enlarged liver and spinal problems.
She was in a terrible state and consequently so was I, I'm not afraid to admit that I had to hie me to the loos for a quick weep.
My boss bless his cotton socks said to me it's more important to the company that I get my wife well than I be here in the Isle of Man and arranged for a flight home.
I rushed around getting the cats into a cattery and made the flight to Gatwick just, flying home took about 8hrs or so it seemed and I arrived at Margaret's bedside 10 mins after visiting time ended, the staff nurse obviously considered stopping me come in but decided against it and I was in Margaret's arms.
I spent three days at her bedside as the news gradually improved as did her infection and she came back to me, by Thursday I was able to leave her to her own devices for the day and went into the London office to try and catch up with some work.
By Friday we'd managed to get the doctors to agree to release Margaret on Monday if she had a good weekend so hopes were high as was her temperature sadly, but this went down over the weekend and finally at 3pm on Monday we hobbled out of the hated Mayday hopefully for the last time.
My company arranged flights home and we arrived in the Isle of Man on Monday the 12th of March, thank god Margaret loves the flat I chose and we're making progress towards the hospital here via the local doctor.
So here we are, alone and together in a bright new future on an island that is beautiful in the middle of the Irish Sea, come one come all it's lovely.
John
I have absolutely no idea where my passport went but I do know where Margaret went and sadly it was to Mayday Hospital in Croydon.
Margaret had been unwell for a while and the day before we moved she became so unwell we had to go to casualty at 9am, we knew what was wrong as it was a reoccurrence of her kidney stones and we duly informed the doctors who as usual took forever to turn up and then didn't listen, so after a battery of tests they finally decided she had kidney stones and admitted her at about 10pm.
I was sent home with a shopping list of clothes and necessaries to prepare for the big move, I couldn't delay it as we had tenants due to move in at the weekend, the removers booked the ferry booked and the keys to the new flat under a stone waiting.
The next day I had to cope with the removers packing, as well as see Margaret and say goodbye, leaving her to the tender mercies of a hospital we knew from previous experience would show her little to no care or consideration.
My sister Penny, bless her came over and supervised the packing and me and allowed me to pop down to Mayday and see Margaret for a tearful goodbye, I delivered the ordered necessaries and took my leave of my wife for god knows how long.
At last the removers were on their way and at 3:30 I stuffed the cats in their boxes in the car and set off for Heysham to the tune of MEOW MEOW MEOW.
Penny had so kindly offered to come with me but I declined as I was already pretty tearful with all the goodbyes and I couldn't prolong it nor inconvenience her so much.
Driving from Croydon to Heysham is not fun, especially to the tune of MEOW MEOW MEOW !
I finally arrived at about 10:30 only to find that the ferry was 4 hrs late due to the extreme weather conditions, force 8 gales in the Irish Sea !
I sat there in the 4 degree car park slowly freezing my balls off listening to the now thankfully silent cats and the radio, I can seriously not recommend Heysham Docks as a holiday destination.
At last about 2:30am we embarked and the first good news of the day came when a steward kindly helped me to the cabin with the cats, litter, food etc.
I'd sensibly booked a pet cabin so that they could come out and they were mighty pleased to do so as you can imagine, I fed them and littered them and went to bed.
Well the boat left, the Ben Machree btw, as is their wont and it wasn't long before we were out in the force 8 gale, now I don’t know if you've ever been out in a force 8 but I can tell you it's highly amusing to be clinging to a bed for dear life while a cat gets seasick.
Poor old Teddy was most unwell much to the amusement of the other two who were looking at him with that "you pussy" look on their faces that only cats and women have.
At last we arrived after hours of purgatory and no sleep, into the boxes went the cats, I washed up the bowls and the litter tray and another steward helped me back to the car before we drove off the boat and onto the Isle of Man proper.
I drove us slowly to the new flat unloaded the car and the cats and blew up my inflatable mattress, climbing into my sleeping bag I headed for dreamland as fast as I could.
Exactly 1hr 32 mins later the phone started ringing with people from work asking me questions, just as I was dropping off the phone would ring and eventually I gave up and had a shower and headed off to sort out my gas and electric.
God knows how I got through that day and managed to sort out my gas and electric bills as well as visiting the office and doing some shopping but I did.
I spent the next three days searching for my passport as I was due to fly to Dortmund the following Friday for the European Poker Tour German leg, I had to buy 5 self assembly shelving units from B&Q in order to get my stuff out of the boxes which the removers had kindly delivered on Friday but with no luck.
On Monday I went into work at 8am and started the business of catching up with the work I'd missed since Tuesday last week, my phone rang and it was Margaret with some terrible news, the doctor's had just delivered, as well as her kidneys they'd found an enlarged liver and spinal problems.
She was in a terrible state and consequently so was I, I'm not afraid to admit that I had to hie me to the loos for a quick weep.
My boss bless his cotton socks said to me it's more important to the company that I get my wife well than I be here in the Isle of Man and arranged for a flight home.
I rushed around getting the cats into a cattery and made the flight to Gatwick just, flying home took about 8hrs or so it seemed and I arrived at Margaret's bedside 10 mins after visiting time ended, the staff nurse obviously considered stopping me come in but decided against it and I was in Margaret's arms.
I spent three days at her bedside as the news gradually improved as did her infection and she came back to me, by Thursday I was able to leave her to her own devices for the day and went into the London office to try and catch up with some work.
By Friday we'd managed to get the doctors to agree to release Margaret on Monday if she had a good weekend so hopes were high as was her temperature sadly, but this went down over the weekend and finally at 3pm on Monday we hobbled out of the hated Mayday hopefully for the last time.
My company arranged flights home and we arrived in the Isle of Man on Monday the 12th of March, thank god Margaret loves the flat I chose and we're making progress towards the hospital here via the local doctor.
So here we are, alone and together in a bright new future on an island that is beautiful in the middle of the Irish Sea, come one come all it's lovely.
John
Monday, February 26, 2007
Get on your bike !
Well it's three weeks into my new job and I'm amazed at what a difference it has made to my life.
In just three weeks I've been transformed into a whole new man, and hooray for that I hear some of you say.
Ok so what's so different about you then John?
Well I'm glad you asked ;)
Ok it's only when things change that you realise just what a rut you were in, though what I was doing before was of value and excellent work it pales into obscurity against what I'm doing now and I'm loving it.
Nowdays I'm working 10-12 hr days and feel like I'm on holiday, I'm still up at 6am and off to work on the tram but at 4:30 when I leave I'm home and back on my computer working till 8 or so, I feel so liberated I can't tell you.
Ok so what's different that's made such a change to my life, well in a word control.
Happiness is not about working less or being paid more but for me it's about having control of my own destiny, sure I'm still employed and sure I could still be made redundant get the sack or have some sort of life changing accident but now I feel that I have control, I choose when and how I work and that makes such a difference.
Of course I have orders to follow and jobs to do but my new employers have faith in my abilities and leave me to organise my own work, it's always amazed me that companies pay people huge amounts of money to do their jobs and then insist on micro managing them, how unproductive is that?
Worse than making employees unproductive it also starts to eat away at their confidence and self worth, after a while you begin to accept it as the status quo, you begin to accept that you have no mind of your own, that your ideas are of little worth and that how it is is how it should be.
Rebel I say, don't accept the mediocre, don't let the little people control your life take ownership of your own destiny and get yourself something better.
Ok ok I know it's easier said than done, believe me I've been there and done that and sometimes you have little choice but to knuckle under and get through the day but what I would urge you to do is keep your eyes open for that opportunity to change your situation.
Nowadays with the advent of jobsite and jobserve amongst others it's the easiest thing in the world to set up automatic e-mails of likely looking jobs sent direct to your account every day.
Ok that perfect job may not be the first thing that arrives in your inbox, it took 19 months for me but if you aren't looking it'll never turn up.
Let's face it if your current employer needs to shed jobs they won't think twice about getting rid of you if it suits their purpose.
I'm not saying be disloyal to your current employer, you owe them your loyalty all the time you are taking their money but for the love of god keep your eyes open and your head up cos no one cares about your career like you do.
Personally I don't give a damn about your career as much as you don't care about mine but I'm sure as hell interested in mine !
So what's the point then John I hear you say.
To quote the she bitch of all time get on your bike and find yourself something better.
Next bulletin from the Isle of Man !
John Anslow
In just three weeks I've been transformed into a whole new man, and hooray for that I hear some of you say.
Ok so what's so different about you then John?
Well I'm glad you asked ;)
Ok it's only when things change that you realise just what a rut you were in, though what I was doing before was of value and excellent work it pales into obscurity against what I'm doing now and I'm loving it.
Nowdays I'm working 10-12 hr days and feel like I'm on holiday, I'm still up at 6am and off to work on the tram but at 4:30 when I leave I'm home and back on my computer working till 8 or so, I feel so liberated I can't tell you.
Ok so what's different that's made such a change to my life, well in a word control.
Happiness is not about working less or being paid more but for me it's about having control of my own destiny, sure I'm still employed and sure I could still be made redundant get the sack or have some sort of life changing accident but now I feel that I have control, I choose when and how I work and that makes such a difference.
Of course I have orders to follow and jobs to do but my new employers have faith in my abilities and leave me to organise my own work, it's always amazed me that companies pay people huge amounts of money to do their jobs and then insist on micro managing them, how unproductive is that?
Worse than making employees unproductive it also starts to eat away at their confidence and self worth, after a while you begin to accept it as the status quo, you begin to accept that you have no mind of your own, that your ideas are of little worth and that how it is is how it should be.
Rebel I say, don't accept the mediocre, don't let the little people control your life take ownership of your own destiny and get yourself something better.
Ok ok I know it's easier said than done, believe me I've been there and done that and sometimes you have little choice but to knuckle under and get through the day but what I would urge you to do is keep your eyes open for that opportunity to change your situation.
Nowadays with the advent of jobsite and jobserve amongst others it's the easiest thing in the world to set up automatic e-mails of likely looking jobs sent direct to your account every day.
Ok that perfect job may not be the first thing that arrives in your inbox, it took 19 months for me but if you aren't looking it'll never turn up.
Let's face it if your current employer needs to shed jobs they won't think twice about getting rid of you if it suits their purpose.
I'm not saying be disloyal to your current employer, you owe them your loyalty all the time you are taking their money but for the love of god keep your eyes open and your head up cos no one cares about your career like you do.
Personally I don't give a damn about your career as much as you don't care about mine but I'm sure as hell interested in mine !
So what's the point then John I hear you say.
To quote the she bitch of all time get on your bike and find yourself something better.
Next bulletin from the Isle of Man !
John Anslow
Thursday, January 25, 2007
You can Write, why aren't you Shakespeare?
One of the things that plagues web workers is the perception among the general population that web stuff is easy.
I won't bore you with the amount of times I've heard disparaging comments from some colleague about how they could do my job if only they had a spare 5 minutes, typically writing code is probably about 10% of building a web site and most staff given some training could probably manage that.
Putting together a web site is a lot like putting together a book, it’s only a string of words after all, hell my 7 year old nephew can write words ! and so it is with web sites, seems like everyone knows just enough html to think they know how to do it.
Just knowing the language and being able to get the screen to display "Hello World" doesn't make you a developer in the same way as knowing the alphabet and being able to write "Hello World" doesn't make you William Shakespeare.
I’m not here to crusade for the rights of undervalued web professionals, the fact that I get paid for doing what I love is good enough for me, but it does wind me up.
When I sit here and look around at my colleagues bashing out code to calculate VAT on 3 for 2 offers or working on a new 80 column report about cash-flow I don’t see them smile an awful lot, I don’t see them jumping up and punching the air in joy when they finally get the sub total to line up in column 65.
I wonder if the lack of excitement in what they do is a result of their personalities or their work, they seem like ordinary guys, we have a laugh when we go down to lunch etc. so my guess is that it’s their work that makes them act the way they do.
I guess if they loved what they do as much as I do they’d be as excited by it as I am by mine, perhaps instead of being wound up by these comments I should recognise them for what they are.
I won't bore you with the amount of times I've heard disparaging comments from some colleague about how they could do my job if only they had a spare 5 minutes, typically writing code is probably about 10% of building a web site and most staff given some training could probably manage that.
Putting together a web site is a lot like putting together a book, it’s only a string of words after all, hell my 7 year old nephew can write words ! and so it is with web sites, seems like everyone knows just enough html to think they know how to do it.
Just knowing the language and being able to get the screen to display "Hello World" doesn't make you a developer in the same way as knowing the alphabet and being able to write "Hello World" doesn't make you William Shakespeare.
I’m not here to crusade for the rights of undervalued web professionals, the fact that I get paid for doing what I love is good enough for me, but it does wind me up.
When I sit here and look around at my colleagues bashing out code to calculate VAT on 3 for 2 offers or working on a new 80 column report about cash-flow I don’t see them smile an awful lot, I don’t see them jumping up and punching the air in joy when they finally get the sub total to line up in column 65.
I wonder if the lack of excitement in what they do is a result of their personalities or their work, they seem like ordinary guys, we have a laugh when we go down to lunch etc. so my guess is that it’s their work that makes them act the way they do.
I guess if they loved what they do as much as I do they’d be as excited by it as I am by mine, perhaps instead of being wound up by these comments I should recognise them for what they are.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Uncommon courtesy
I write this looking back at some of the managers I’ve worked for and wonder at how they got and kept their jobs, of course having read the Peter Principle I know how, but it still amazes me.
For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of reading The Peter Principle, its basic tenet states "In a hierarchy every employee tends to rise to his level of incompetence."
i.e. the good production line worker is promoted to be a supervisor where all his production skills are next to useless and he has to learn how to be a supervisor, once he’s learnt enough to be a good supervisor he’s promoted to manager and so on until he finds it impossible to learn enough to become competent and thus ceases to be promoted, he has reached his level of incompetence.
One of the traits that distinguish great managers from human potato sacks is manners.
By manners, I don’t mean people who hold the door open for you, or wish you good morning – that’s politeness, and even evil things can be done in a polite way.
When I think about my best managers I remember their concern for me, their unstinting support and belief, their ability to help me to grow and their mentoring skills. What pervaded everything they did was their good manners: treating me how they themselves would like to be treated by their manager.
I remember meeting the first real manager of my life a now deceased and greatly missed gentleman called Arthur Lomasney, he was Superannuation Manager at St Georges Hospital, Tooting in the 80’s.
On my first day I was introduced to Arthur by the Payroll Manager, he immediately took my hand and gave me a warm welcoming smile. “Welcome to Superannuation,” he said. I felt his sincerity like a brazier on a cold night.
Before he went on to talk about the job he talked to me at some length about me - a fascinating subject for a 20-year-old. By listening patiently to my ramblings he convinced me in pretty short order what a wonderful man he was. As time went on and I came to know him, that initial impression was confirmed but I will never forget the effect he had on me when he first made me feel welcome.
If he was around today, he would say it was just good manners, but like common sense, I know it’s a human trait that’s rare. Arthur based his entire life on good manners, at work, at home, in love and war and though when he died he was not a rich man in the conventional sense his funeral was immense and the gap he left fathomless.
I spent a long time learning how to behave from Arthur, I watched him time and time again turn antagonists into evangelists primarily by using good manners.
Staff members would come to Arthur upset and angry, expecting a fight and ready for it, sometimes they would bring support in the form of union reps or spouses, sometimes they would be resentful, sometimes tearful and only rarely friendly and in all cases Arthur would treat them with care and consideration. He never let people leave feeling angry, and I’ll repeat that because it was fundamental to his method,
he never let people leave feeling angry.
I remember on one occasion a widow and her two teenage children came to visit us to fight about her pension benefits, they turned up bristling with indignation and if knives weren’t actually drawn they were certainly eased in their sheaths.
By use of his impeccable manners and wonderful people skills he soon had the situation turned around to such an extent that before they left he had them out in the lobby playing “Red Arrows”
The lobby in the hospital is a large square area with 4 lifts around the outside, about 30 foot square, Arthur’s game of Red Arrows involved four people starting at each corner of the square and walking towards the opposite corner, Arthur proved time and time again that people would instinctively avoid hitting each other and cross to the opposite corner and because of the coordination required he named this game “Red Arrows” after the famous flying display team.
How do you think they went away and what do you think they said to their friends and acquaintances about Arthur and the superannuation department?
Since Arthur I’ve enjoyed working for the good and the bad, one manager introduced another manager who stuttered, like this,
“You know Mike Noakes, Four M’s three N’s.”
I won’t forget that experience I can tell you.
Nowadays I try and emulate people like Arthur and avoid acting like the second manager, I send thank you notes, how hard is that with e-mail? He did all his by hand.
I greet people with a smile and a warm hand shake, I try and treat everybody like a guest in my own home and I try not to let people leave feeling angry.
There is insufficient space here to list everything required to have good manners in a business sense but I bet you can think of someone who has them, and a little side-bet that they aren’t languishing in the depths of the company.
So does having good manners do me any good?
Well if I tell you that I will shortly be leaving my current employer and joining another for double my current salary I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions.
For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of reading The Peter Principle, its basic tenet states "In a hierarchy every employee tends to rise to his level of incompetence."
i.e. the good production line worker is promoted to be a supervisor where all his production skills are next to useless and he has to learn how to be a supervisor, once he’s learnt enough to be a good supervisor he’s promoted to manager and so on until he finds it impossible to learn enough to become competent and thus ceases to be promoted, he has reached his level of incompetence.
One of the traits that distinguish great managers from human potato sacks is manners.
By manners, I don’t mean people who hold the door open for you, or wish you good morning – that’s politeness, and even evil things can be done in a polite way.
When I think about my best managers I remember their concern for me, their unstinting support and belief, their ability to help me to grow and their mentoring skills. What pervaded everything they did was their good manners: treating me how they themselves would like to be treated by their manager.
I remember meeting the first real manager of my life a now deceased and greatly missed gentleman called Arthur Lomasney, he was Superannuation Manager at St Georges Hospital, Tooting in the 80’s.
On my first day I was introduced to Arthur by the Payroll Manager, he immediately took my hand and gave me a warm welcoming smile. “Welcome to Superannuation,” he said. I felt his sincerity like a brazier on a cold night.
Before he went on to talk about the job he talked to me at some length about me - a fascinating subject for a 20-year-old. By listening patiently to my ramblings he convinced me in pretty short order what a wonderful man he was. As time went on and I came to know him, that initial impression was confirmed but I will never forget the effect he had on me when he first made me feel welcome.
If he was around today, he would say it was just good manners, but like common sense, I know it’s a human trait that’s rare. Arthur based his entire life on good manners, at work, at home, in love and war and though when he died he was not a rich man in the conventional sense his funeral was immense and the gap he left fathomless.
I spent a long time learning how to behave from Arthur, I watched him time and time again turn antagonists into evangelists primarily by using good manners.
Staff members would come to Arthur upset and angry, expecting a fight and ready for it, sometimes they would bring support in the form of union reps or spouses, sometimes they would be resentful, sometimes tearful and only rarely friendly and in all cases Arthur would treat them with care and consideration. He never let people leave feeling angry, and I’ll repeat that because it was fundamental to his method,
he never let people leave feeling angry.
I remember on one occasion a widow and her two teenage children came to visit us to fight about her pension benefits, they turned up bristling with indignation and if knives weren’t actually drawn they were certainly eased in their sheaths.
By use of his impeccable manners and wonderful people skills he soon had the situation turned around to such an extent that before they left he had them out in the lobby playing “Red Arrows”
The lobby in the hospital is a large square area with 4 lifts around the outside, about 30 foot square, Arthur’s game of Red Arrows involved four people starting at each corner of the square and walking towards the opposite corner, Arthur proved time and time again that people would instinctively avoid hitting each other and cross to the opposite corner and because of the coordination required he named this game “Red Arrows” after the famous flying display team.
How do you think they went away and what do you think they said to their friends and acquaintances about Arthur and the superannuation department?
Since Arthur I’ve enjoyed working for the good and the bad, one manager introduced another manager who stuttered, like this,
“You know Mike Noakes, Four M’s three N’s.”
I won’t forget that experience I can tell you.
Nowadays I try and emulate people like Arthur and avoid acting like the second manager, I send thank you notes, how hard is that with e-mail? He did all his by hand.
I greet people with a smile and a warm hand shake, I try and treat everybody like a guest in my own home and I try not to let people leave feeling angry.
There is insufficient space here to list everything required to have good manners in a business sense but I bet you can think of someone who has them, and a little side-bet that they aren’t languishing in the depths of the company.
So does having good manners do me any good?
Well if I tell you that I will shortly be leaving my current employer and joining another for double my current salary I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
How to resign
“Take your job and stick it where the sun don’t shine” might be tempting but “so long and thanks for all the fish” makes much better sense.
I'm pleased to announce that I recently got a new job and I’m looking forward to starting it in February.
The good news, however, did raise the awkward issue of how to resign from my current position without succumbing to the above temptation.
I have resigned in many ways throughout my interesting career.
A particularly memorable resignation came when I knocked the company owner’s son into a pool of his own piss – he took the ‘wet floor’ sign literally by passing water on a floor I’d mopped to prove his power over me.
In my latest job though, it was just a straightforward resignation.
That’s not to say I haven’t had issues with my current job. Let’s face it, if I’d been entirely happy I wouldn’t have been looking, so the opportunity to put them down in writing knocked twice and rang the doorbell.
I could have detailed the reasons for my resignation at some length with dates and timings where appropriate. I could have explained where I was failed, put upon, abused etc. but looking at it with the benefit of experience I decided not to.
The temptation to get it all off your chest is immense; all those petty insults and real or imagined sleights, the passed over promotions or unreasonable behaviours are just demanding that you give them an airing now that you haven’t got anything to lose.
So why then did I choose to hand in a resignation letter thanking my boss for her kind attentions and the company for its care when what I really wanted to say was something far more accurate?
There’s an old saw that bears repeating:
“Don't burn your bridges behind you”
It is indeed a small world, I have lost count of the number of ex-colleagues I have encountered over the years, some who have gone on to be more successful than me and some who have not but all with a tongue in their mouths and some influence in their work places.
I have got and not got, jobs based on recommendations from these ex-colleagues.
I highlighted that because it’s the primary reason not to let fly with your reasons, no matter how good or well supported they may be.
The second reason is that your employer has invested time and money in its staff. The higher the position of that member of staff the greater the investment. Who then do you think they are going to back when a dispute arises, even more so, when one part of that dispute is disappearing and the other part will remain?
Use that most valuable tool in your survival pack and put yourself in your employer’s position: would you stir up trouble with a supervisor/manager/director/whatever when the problem is removing itself anyway?
I can see the light of realisation in your eyes and the slump of acceptance in your shoulders – don’t be too downhearted however, you are moving onwards and upwards and the people you are leaving are not your problem any more.
I’m afraid I’ve some bad news for you.
When you get to where you are going there will be more (insert collective derogatory term here) there and you will have to deal with them. The trick of the game is to develop yourself to such an extent that the little people can’t hurt you.
Try re-framing the problem: be grateful for every (insert singular derogatory term here) you meet, It’s one less person to compete with.
John Anslow
www.ffriar.com
I'm pleased to announce that I recently got a new job and I’m looking forward to starting it in February.
The good news, however, did raise the awkward issue of how to resign from my current position without succumbing to the above temptation.
I have resigned in many ways throughout my interesting career.
A particularly memorable resignation came when I knocked the company owner’s son into a pool of his own piss – he took the ‘wet floor’ sign literally by passing water on a floor I’d mopped to prove his power over me.
In my latest job though, it was just a straightforward resignation.
That’s not to say I haven’t had issues with my current job. Let’s face it, if I’d been entirely happy I wouldn’t have been looking, so the opportunity to put them down in writing knocked twice and rang the doorbell.
I could have detailed the reasons for my resignation at some length with dates and timings where appropriate. I could have explained where I was failed, put upon, abused etc. but looking at it with the benefit of experience I decided not to.
The temptation to get it all off your chest is immense; all those petty insults and real or imagined sleights, the passed over promotions or unreasonable behaviours are just demanding that you give them an airing now that you haven’t got anything to lose.
So why then did I choose to hand in a resignation letter thanking my boss for her kind attentions and the company for its care when what I really wanted to say was something far more accurate?
There’s an old saw that bears repeating:
“Don't burn your bridges behind you”
It is indeed a small world, I have lost count of the number of ex-colleagues I have encountered over the years, some who have gone on to be more successful than me and some who have not but all with a tongue in their mouths and some influence in their work places.
I have got and not got, jobs based on recommendations from these ex-colleagues.
I highlighted that because it’s the primary reason not to let fly with your reasons, no matter how good or well supported they may be.
The second reason is that your employer has invested time and money in its staff. The higher the position of that member of staff the greater the investment. Who then do you think they are going to back when a dispute arises, even more so, when one part of that dispute is disappearing and the other part will remain?
Use that most valuable tool in your survival pack and put yourself in your employer’s position: would you stir up trouble with a supervisor/manager/director/whatever when the problem is removing itself anyway?
I can see the light of realisation in your eyes and the slump of acceptance in your shoulders – don’t be too downhearted however, you are moving onwards and upwards and the people you are leaving are not your problem any more.
I’m afraid I’ve some bad news for you.
When you get to where you are going there will be more (insert collective derogatory term here) there and you will have to deal with them. The trick of the game is to develop yourself to such an extent that the little people can’t hurt you.
Try re-framing the problem: be grateful for every (insert singular derogatory term here) you meet, It’s one less person to compete with.
John Anslow
www.ffriar.com
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Get the Bear Facts
Happy new year all, may this year bring you all you would wish and nothing that you would not.
Ok Christmas has come and gone, My wife's birthday being the 27th has also come and gone and much has happened in the Anslow household.
During the Christmas holiday I experienced many incidents of customer service and leadership in action, some of them good and some of them not so good as you will imagine.
I'm sure that you all will have similar stories to tell, the assistant and I use the term lightly, in Woolies who chewed gum and looked down her nose at you when she eventually deigned to serve, the schoolgirl cashier in Next who didn't know what a tank top was, the guy in Dixons who went out of his way to get you that camera you wanted etc.
My own experience was affected somewhat by my habit of Christmas shopping all year so for me it was a case of wrapping more than buying but I did have one pleasurable experience that I thought I'd share with you.
For my wife's birthday I purchased a gift card for the Teddy Bear Workshop in Croydon, it's in the Centrale Centre in case you want to go, She is wild about cuddly toys and I knew that she'd just love going along and making her own.
We toddled along all excited on a rather wet Wednesday and were greeted at the door by a bear wielding staff member, I explained that it was a birthday treat for M and the lady and her bear explained the process to us and offered help should we need it.
I don't know if you've been to one of these shops so I'll list what happens.
- Select empty skin
- Choose sound machine
- Get a heart
- Get it Stuffed
- Fluff it
- Choose Outfit
- Produce Birth Certificate
- Pay and leave
Well as you can imagine M was in raptures about it all, she spent ages choosing which bear she wanted, as usual she wanted them all, then I recorded a short message for the bear to play when you squeeze its paw, she chose a heart and we took it to the stuffer.
Imagine liposuction in reverse and you've got a good idea of how that worked, she was squirming around and muttering about how it must be hurting the poor thing, the poor assistant who was doing it was mightily uncomfortable.
We took it over to fluff and preen it with bear paw shaped brushes and an air shower thing before trying to choose an outfit.
You should see the range of outfits these people stock and at about the same price as kiddy clothes I'm not surprised ! We ended up with a fisherman's outfit, complete with fishing rod, fish and wellington boots, M naturally decided to call him Fisher !
We generated his birth certificate on one of a row of PC's and went to pay, I was watching the customers and staff while we waited for our turn and it was fascinating to watch people so obviously enjoying themselves, not just the customers but the staff.
Let's face it 8 hrs a day stuffing bears can't be all that great so there must be something else going on to account for all the smiling faces, and then it struck me it was the smiling faces, and that led me to another obvious revelation, happiness breeds happiness.
Happiness breeds happiness.
Now whether it was the customers infecting the staff or the staff infecting the customers who can say but it certainly made for a pleasant environment for both, I believe it is the managers responsibility to foster happiness as much as fostering good customer service skills or financial management because the happiness factor does make a difference.
Look back over your Christmas at the examples of excellent customer service that you had, were they given by people with a smile on their face by any chance?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)