Pointless Drivel

Asked & Answered

People often ask me, "PD, why do you like the internet to much?"  To which I respond:

"Because of the flow charts."

Missed Oppotunity

I'm in sales. When I'm not sitting around trying to come up with inane observations or new and creative ways to make fun of people, I sell stuff. The company I work for sells fireplaces and garage doors. Don't ask how those two go together. It actually makes sense...in an obscure, corporate world sort of way, but I won't get into it now.

My preference is selling fireplaces. For several reasons. First, it is what I did prior to coming here, so I'm better versed on them. But also, they are more fun to sell. The vast majority of garage doors are pretty basic, and the only real option is the color. Besides that, with the basic doors, the profit margins are so low, I don't make much selling them. In fact, since we have to measure the things before finalizing the sale, if the customer lives more than a few miles away, it is not uncommon for my commission to be less than the price of the gas to get there and back. I do enjoy selling custom garage doors, which are much fancier, more expensive and have a better profit margin.

Fireplaces, on the other hand, allow me to use some creativity, especially when a customer has nothing and wants to get a fireplace that will be the focal point of a room. In those cases, I get to do a lot of design work. It's time consuming, sure, but worth the time; especially when I see the final result and the reaction of the customers.

Of course, one of the issues with selling fireplaces is that they are pure luxury items. Very few people actually need a fireplace. Oh, sure, there are some who buy wood-burning fireplaces for heat, in order to save on their energy bills. But the fact is, unless you have a few acres of land and can harvest, chop, split, stack and store the wood yourself, it costs less to heat with gas. So when the economy is slow, like it has been this season, not that many people are buying. Times like these, I depend more on the garage doors, because, while I don't make much, I at least make something.

Frank -- which may or may not be his real name -- was a fireplace customer I first met last summer. He stopped in to the store to kill time while his kid was at a place nearby. He was interested in a fireplace, and lived relatively close, so we set up a time, and I went out to his house. I met with him and his wife about their fireplace desires, then designed what I considered a very nice set-up. But, alas, money was tight at the time, so he didn't buy anything. That's okay. I know fireplaces are a luxury item only. I certainly don't want someone buying one before they take care of other things, like food, clothing and shelter.

Frank continues to stop in every once in a while to chat. His kid still goes to that place, and stopping in here beats sitting there and waiting. Every time, he promises he will eventually get the fireplace, but the time just isn't right. And I truly have no problem with that. I am content to wait until he is ready. For that matter, if he eventually decides it just isn't the right move, that's okay, too.

I saw Frank again this morning. I was outside shoveling snow from the walkway before opening the store, and he pulled up outside. Told me they recently had our guys out to their house for their garage door. Apparently, his wife had backing into theirs and, since they wanted all the doors to match, they ended up replacing all of them. "Huh," I said, "why didn't you call me?" He stopped for a second, genuine surprise on his face, and said, "I didn't know you sold those, too."

Yup, that's pretty much how my year's been going.

Santa Claus

The Shmunkin met Santa Claus for the first time this year.  Well, not really the first time, she actually met him last year, as well, but really didn't understand the concept of Santa, and was more scared than anything else at the thought of sitting in his lap, so I had to hold her.  This time, she had a pretty good handle on who Santa is, and was much better prepared.

It was just after Thanksgiving, and we were at Southdale Mall in Edina -- the Ways and Means Committee's Happy Place.  Knowing we wanted to take her eventually, and seeing that the line was pretty short, we decided to go for it.

I had heard about the Southdale Santa before, from children, parents and even others who merely met him.  He has been there for six years, and at other malls long before that.  His image has been featured in national advertising campaigns.  His beard is real.  His bowl full of jelly is real.  His love of the children and the joy he brings them is real.  Anyone who has ever been in his presence raves about him and his effect on children, and on them.  When you meet him, he is gentle, but firm.  There really is a twinkle in his eye that tell you he already loves you, and that you can't put anything past him.  He is Santa.

There are few things that can excite a three-year-old as much as Santa Claus.  The entire time we waited in  line -- short as it was -- The Shmunkin was excitedly chattering about what she wanted for Christmas, and what she would ask Santa to bring her.  When our turn came, she run up to Santa Claus, gave him a big hug, then climbed into his lap.  He asked her what she wanted him to bring her and, in a decibel level that only The Shmunkin can manage, she yelled out, "I want a knife."  WMC and I got The Look, and knew we better explain quickly, or we'd be lucky to get coal.

One of Shmunkie's favorite play activities at home is her kitchen, where she can entertain herself for hours.  A set of "kitchenware" we got her includes a plastic knife, which she had broken the day before.  This is what she wanted, which we quickly explained to Santa who, in a way only Santa can, smiled and nodded, said her would bring one, and asked her what else she wanted.

Not much of a story, I know.  And told much later than it actually happened.  But there is a reason.  Partway through the Christmas season this year, Santa had to turn over his lap this year to one of his assistants.  Just this week, I learned he has pancreatic cancer, and is recovering at home.  He had treatment for it earlier this year, asking that whatever chemotherapy he receives not make his beard fall out.  And by the time he started his annual duties in November he had lost so much weight his belly shook more like a bowl full of peanut butter.  But he still did it, because he is Santa.

I can't seem to find out his prognosis, but I hope it is good and he can return to what he loves.  There are still a lot of people that need to meet him.

Mall Barkers

I've been doing the Christmas shopping, and I have a question: What's the deal with all the kiosks at the malls?

It used to be the concourses of malls were open spaces that acted as nice gathering spots, and actually allowed people to walk. A trip through the main concourses of malls I've seen recently is like trying to navigate the Sargasso Sea of carnival stands along the State Fair Midway, with people yelling from all directions trying to get you to buy their wares. Except the ones at the malls are younger, more attractive and appear to have closer to the requisite number of teeth.

The other day I walked into the closest mall to us, Southdale in Edina, Minnesota (The Mothership, according to the Ways and Means Committee), and was pulled to the side by a young kiosk-worker who grabbed my hand and proceeded to shine my fingernails. Walking further on, I was then approached or spoken to by roughly half the others kiosk-workers, who apparently saw the first one succeed and smelled blood in the water. And I didn't even buy anything!

Most of these places sell stuff you would expect: Calendars, trinkets, novelty gifts and, of course, meat and cheese packages. But why are there so many cell phone places? Southdale alone has at least ten kiosks selling cell phones, as well as four actual stores, plus Radio Shack, which sells for most of them. And that's just in one building! I did a quick search, and learned the four biggest cell phone companies -- Sprint, Verizon, T-Mobile and AT&T -- have no fewer than 42 places where you can purchase their phones and/or service plans within five miles of my house. How much money would they save by consolidating? Or, perhaps a better question: How much less would we have to pay for phone service if they consolidated?

[Interestingly, Southdale -- the first enclosed mall in the country, if not the world, and the archetype of virtually every mall built since -- wasn't supposed to be what it is today. The designer, Victor Gruen, was a socialist -- some say communist -- who designed the mall to have stores, certainly, but more to be a community within itself, with stores, apartments, medical facilities, schools, and even a park with a lake. And yet, today, if you go to the top floor and look down at the main concourse with the stores, Christmas decorations, Santa Claus village and, yes, jungle of kiosks, it is a model of modern capitalism.]

But back to the point, and, really, the main question: What was the state of Victor Gruen's Dental Health?