I am looking forward to -- hopefully! -- eating my words. I've posted two entries in my blog about the transit initiatives that were on the ballot in San Francisco: one to give more money to public transit, and one that would suck the money out of private transit and give it to private developers to create more parking for cars.
I thought it would win, that San Francisco might repeat the debacle of the long-departed, but very well-loved Key Route system in the Bay Area, which was bought by GM in the 1950s and destroyed.
But so far, so good. Early reports say that the transit system is winning and the parking measure is losing. However, I've also heard that -- for reasons I'm unclear about -- it will take a whole month for San Francisco to count the ballots. That's plenty of time for some ballot boxes to disappear into yesterday's oil spill in the Bay...but I hope not!
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Sunday, November 4, 2007
The disinformation campaign continues
Tuesday is election day. You might recall that I blogged about a pair of confusing ballot initiatives: one which would increase funding for public transportation, the other which would suck money from public transportation and give it to developers to "create more parking spaces." Guess which ballot initiative has more money behind it, and, as a consequence, is mailing 4-color brochures of disinformation to my mailbox every day?
Cloaked under happy-sounding names like "The Coalition for San Francisco Neighborhoods" and "The Mission Group for Neighborhood Rights" (the Mission is a traditionally working-class neighborhood which intentionally makes this name particularly misleading), the anti-public transit people are sending mailings every day with soul-clutching headlines like "San Francisco Neighborhoods Need REAL Muni reform" and "If They Get Their Way, The Only Means of Transit Will Be Your Two Feet." Of course, this coalition is comprised of republican businesspeople and developers who want the money for public transit to go into their private development projects.
Their argument, which strikes at the heart of every self-interested, short-sighted modern citizen, is that we'll get more parking spaces "at no cost to the taxpayer" if we vote against proposition A and FOR proposition H. The reality is first, that if we used public transit more, we'd have less need for the parking spaces, and second, that we're losing neighborhood street parking all the time because private citizens are refinancing their homes and building garages under them....thus eliminating street parking in front of -- and adjacent to -- their buildings.
The spaces between each garage are seldom large enough to park more than a Smart car in them, if that. In fact, my neighborhood is constantly under construction, and even now, another homeowner is digging a hole in front of his otherwise-rickety building to create a garage for himself (see photo).
As an increasing number of people from the suburbs move here, there's been a tremendous increase in the number of super-sized cars on the streets, it's true. I've seen people move to an apartment building next door to a major Muni Metro station with a Cadillac Escalade parked in front....go figure! That's how I know the disinformation campaign will likely succeed.
People tend to be attracted by shiny objects. As proof, the people in my state elected Arnold Schwarzenegger as governor, throwing out the guy they elected the year before, because a group of people in southern California suddenly started a ballot initiative to take him from Hollywood to the state government in a non-gubernatorial election year.
Here's the scoop, San Franciscans:
YES on A (money for public transit)
NO on H (sucking money from public transit and giving it to private developers)
Cloaked under happy-sounding names like "The Coalition for San Francisco Neighborhoods" and "The Mission Group for Neighborhood Rights" (the Mission is a traditionally working-class neighborhood which intentionally makes this name particularly misleading), the anti-public transit people are sending mailings every day with soul-clutching headlines like "San Francisco Neighborhoods Need REAL Muni reform" and "If They Get Their Way, The Only Means of Transit Will Be Your Two Feet." Of course, this coalition is comprised of republican businesspeople and developers who want the money for public transit to go into their private development projects.
Their argument, which strikes at the heart of every self-interested, short-sighted modern citizen, is that we'll get more parking spaces "at no cost to the taxpayer" if we vote against proposition A and FOR proposition H. The reality is first, that if we used public transit more, we'd have less need for the parking spaces, and second, that we're losing neighborhood street parking all the time because private citizens are refinancing their homes and building garages under them....thus eliminating street parking in front of -- and adjacent to -- their buildings.
The spaces between each garage are seldom large enough to park more than a Smart car in them, if that. In fact, my neighborhood is constantly under construction, and even now, another homeowner is digging a hole in front of his otherwise-rickety building to create a garage for himself (see photo).
As an increasing number of people from the suburbs move here, there's been a tremendous increase in the number of super-sized cars on the streets, it's true. I've seen people move to an apartment building next door to a major Muni Metro station with a Cadillac Escalade parked in front....go figure! That's how I know the disinformation campaign will likely succeed.
People tend to be attracted by shiny objects. As proof, the people in my state elected Arnold Schwarzenegger as governor, throwing out the guy they elected the year before, because a group of people in southern California suddenly started a ballot initiative to take him from Hollywood to the state government in a non-gubernatorial election year.
Here's the scoop, San Franciscans:
YES on A (money for public transit)
NO on H (sucking money from public transit and giving it to private developers)
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Off the air
Tonight I finally did something I've been wanting to do for a while: I cancelled my satellite TV subscription. That's almost $800 per year I was paying for television that I rarely watched. It felt good. But is it over yet?
The clerk at the other end of the phone line asked me why I was cancelling. Then she offered me a horrible-sounding "family pack" for $19.95 per month, which consisted of children's shows, religious programming, and FOX News! No wonder the USA is in the condition it's in right now. I declined.
Then she told me that they would ship me some boxes in which I had to ship back the DVR and other assorted equipment. She wanted me to retrieve a card from the satellite dish (a three-story climb on a rickety ladder....no thank you!) and she told me that somehow I still owe yet even more money for my final bill. And she asked me if I wanted to end it today. I said "Yes." But I can see the little red recording light on right now, recording The Daily Show...so is it really over?
It felt great, but it will be strange to have these two dead screens in my house. I might plug my iPod into them to watch podcasts of foreign news that I download from iTunes. Doesn't that sound great, actually?
The clerk at the other end of the phone line asked me why I was cancelling. Then she offered me a horrible-sounding "family pack" for $19.95 per month, which consisted of children's shows, religious programming, and FOX News! No wonder the USA is in the condition it's in right now. I declined.
Then she told me that they would ship me some boxes in which I had to ship back the DVR and other assorted equipment. She wanted me to retrieve a card from the satellite dish (a three-story climb on a rickety ladder....no thank you!) and she told me that somehow I still owe yet even more money for my final bill. And she asked me if I wanted to end it today. I said "Yes." But I can see the little red recording light on right now, recording The Daily Show...so is it really over?
It felt great, but it will be strange to have these two dead screens in my house. I might plug my iPod into them to watch podcasts of foreign news that I download from iTunes. Doesn't that sound great, actually?
Thursday, October 25, 2007
The art of deception
After my trip home yesterday, I started thinking about how much effort we put into deceptive messaging in my culture.
Everywhere, we have signs or announcements that inform and disinform us at the same time. For example, on my flight home yesterday out of Washington D.C., the flight attendant cheerily told us that we had a "short flight....just five and a half hours." That's not a short flight at all...it's exactly the opposite!...especially with an additional hour spent en route for takeoff...or the additional two hours we spent queueing up for ticketing and security checks.
After that, as a "courtesy," they provided us with "food" that we could buy in flight. The food was, yet again, an assortment of pre-selected boxes of junk food packages from vending machines, grouped by theme, with absurd names. They also supposedly offered "fresh" food (pre-packaged salads and sandwiches), however, the "fresh food" sold out quickly and wasn't available anymore. Even that message ("we're out") was conveyed to us in an indirect, weirdly positive way.
The messaging at the hotel/resort was the same. There was an alternate, more-expensive food establishment next to the resort's canteen, with similar food in it to the canteen, but slightly better service. "For your convenience, we are open from 4 to 11 p.m." Of course, this actually meant "Sorry, we're closed until 4 p.m. every day."
Another one: "Sorry for our dust! For your enhancement, we are making additions for your future enjoyment" (or something like that) was the sign that meant "Under construction," telling the diners in the canteen to feel good about the construction noise while they ate.
Then I realized how disinformation has gone beyond politics and become a part of our everyday life. In the USA, companies don't just post a sign or make an announcement anymore that states the facts. They tell you how to feel about it. And the feeling they want you to have is completely dissonant with the one that you're actually feeling at that moment.
I think this is a part of US culture that might not exist in other countries. In France, for example, the signs are straightforward, leaving you to have your own feelings of outrage or indifference. "On strike." "Closed on Sundays." "Under construction." They don't try to tell you what it's not. They're not afraid of people having an attitude about it.
Most of us also know we're being lied to...but we shrug it off. We're surrounded by deceptions, where the meaning of the phrase is exactly the opposite of what it sounds: a good example are the "privacy policies," which are statements that tell you how a company (like your bank) is selling your name and the data they collected on you to other companies, for example. The danger comes when we start to believe them.
Everywhere, we have signs or announcements that inform and disinform us at the same time. For example, on my flight home yesterday out of Washington D.C., the flight attendant cheerily told us that we had a "short flight....just five and a half hours." That's not a short flight at all...it's exactly the opposite!...especially with an additional hour spent en route for takeoff...or the additional two hours we spent queueing up for ticketing and security checks.
After that, as a "courtesy," they provided us with "food" that we could buy in flight. The food was, yet again, an assortment of pre-selected boxes of junk food packages from vending machines, grouped by theme, with absurd names. They also supposedly offered "fresh" food (pre-packaged salads and sandwiches), however, the "fresh food" sold out quickly and wasn't available anymore. Even that message ("we're out") was conveyed to us in an indirect, weirdly positive way.
The messaging at the hotel/resort was the same. There was an alternate, more-expensive food establishment next to the resort's canteen, with similar food in it to the canteen, but slightly better service. "For your convenience, we are open from 4 to 11 p.m." Of course, this actually meant "Sorry, we're closed until 4 p.m. every day."
Another one: "Sorry for our dust! For your enhancement, we are making additions for your future enjoyment" (or something like that) was the sign that meant "Under construction," telling the diners in the canteen to feel good about the construction noise while they ate.
Then I realized how disinformation has gone beyond politics and become a part of our everyday life. In the USA, companies don't just post a sign or make an announcement anymore that states the facts. They tell you how to feel about it. And the feeling they want you to have is completely dissonant with the one that you're actually feeling at that moment.
I think this is a part of US culture that might not exist in other countries. In France, for example, the signs are straightforward, leaving you to have your own feelings of outrage or indifference. "On strike." "Closed on Sundays." "Under construction." They don't try to tell you what it's not. They're not afraid of people having an attitude about it.
Most of us also know we're being lied to...but we shrug it off. We're surrounded by deceptions, where the meaning of the phrase is exactly the opposite of what it sounds: a good example are the "privacy policies," which are statements that tell you how a company (like your bank) is selling your name and the data they collected on you to other companies, for example. The danger comes when we start to believe them.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Prisoner of Fun
I'm still locked in the "fun gulag" (as a friend of mine referred to this resort) here in Florida. With 2,000 conference attendees, the already-limited and controlled resources seem even more spartan. Perhaps this is a dress rehearsal for an emergency in the future, like an evacuation center of some kind.
I have not seen a vegetable for three days now. When I asked for the platter of "grilled tuna, rice, and veggies," I received an astonishing, obscene array of fish, rice, and mashed potatoes with gravy, for example. This was the only food option in the canteen that listed "vegetables," as far as I know. The food prices are quite high and the options are so few that I wonder how the average American family can afford a holiday here.
Meanwhile, the messaging is everywhere. Even my hotel soap has Mickey Mouse stamped into it. The only store in this complex--and there's nothing else for miles and miles--sells only branded merchandise and a small handful of sundries, like Polident.
The conference itself has its good moments and its so-so ones, as do most conferences. I did enjoy the session yesterday led by a woman named Jane McGonigal, a game designer who creates innovative learning and gaming environments such as a simulation on life without oil, where users contributed to building the alternate reality to experience it. But some of the sessions were less stimulating, with the fringes of the room populated by sales reps looking for prospects.
A couple of my colleagues had rental cars, so we were able to drive away from the compound last night. We ended up at a mall a few miles away that was a bit surreal and which contained some of the usual suspects: Hard Rock Cafe, Virgin Megastore, etc...and a large Cuban restaurant, which offered a couple of mild variations to what we'd already been eating, but with plantains added to the mix.
Here's the resort canteen, which is surrounded by bars.
I have not seen a vegetable for three days now. When I asked for the platter of "grilled tuna, rice, and veggies," I received an astonishing, obscene array of fish, rice, and mashed potatoes with gravy, for example. This was the only food option in the canteen that listed "vegetables," as far as I know. The food prices are quite high and the options are so few that I wonder how the average American family can afford a holiday here.
Meanwhile, the messaging is everywhere. Even my hotel soap has Mickey Mouse stamped into it. The only store in this complex--and there's nothing else for miles and miles--sells only branded merchandise and a small handful of sundries, like Polident.
The conference itself has its good moments and its so-so ones, as do most conferences. I did enjoy the session yesterday led by a woman named Jane McGonigal, a game designer who creates innovative learning and gaming environments such as a simulation on life without oil, where users contributed to building the alternate reality to experience it. But some of the sessions were less stimulating, with the fringes of the room populated by sales reps looking for prospects.
A couple of my colleagues had rental cars, so we were able to drive away from the compound last night. We ended up at a mall a few miles away that was a bit surreal and which contained some of the usual suspects: Hard Rock Cafe, Virgin Megastore, etc...and a large Cuban restaurant, which offered a couple of mild variations to what we'd already been eating, but with plantains added to the mix.
Here's the resort canteen, which is surrounded by bars.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Ditzy World
I am at a resort in Florida for a conference, which starts in a few hours. I flew in yesterday...it took all day. I forgot that US-based flights don't have food anymore, so I was food-deprived. Everything seems skewed towards an airport-stopover lifestyle, with each airport loaded with chain-food restaurants.
However, my first flight was late, and I had only 10 minutes on my stopover to race from my first plane to catch my connecting flight, which had already closed the boarding door (and which they reopened for me, to my amazement, and to the disgust of the passengers already on the plane).
I didn't have breakfast, and there was no food on my first flight. I was hopeful that I could buy something on my second one. And I found out just what I could buy on that second flight: pre-bundled vending- machine packets of chips and salami and fake cheese, arranged in themes that someone deemed clever. I would have cried with happiness if they'd brought me one of those old-fashioned hot meals that you used to get on airplanes, with the soft vegetables and the meat with gravy and potatoes.
My first flight had a fly infestation in the back of the plane, for which the airline attendants apologized profusely and told us that we should call United's customer service and file a complaint, implying that there was nothing they could do unless we went up the chain of command. Meanwhile, I was seated next to a woman who was returning from a vacation trip to Vietnam. I asked her how she enjoyed it.
WOMAN: Vietnam was a beautiful country, but the information is so controlled....the people are very biased.
ME: How so?
WOMAN: Well, they have a really negative attitude about the Vietnam war.
ME: [...pause...] Well, that's understandable. I'm sure that when there's a long war fought in your own country and you see lots of destruction, it's hard to feel good about it.
WOMAN: Well, they have American tourism there. They really shouldn't have such an attitude.
ME: Hmmmmm.
WOMAN: But there are some real-estate bargains there, I'm telling you. It's a good time to invest, but prices are already going up.
ME: Prices are going up everywhere.
Luckily, she took this opportunity to put on her headphones and tune me out, so I did the same.
Flight number 2 was a bit better. The passenger next to me was a Canadian businessman who was also on his way to a conference -- though not the same one. We mixed and matched the "food" packets of our vending-machine bundles, and he explained to me how the value of the Canadian dollar -- higher now than the US dollar -- is hurting Canadian business.
On arrival at the airport in Orlando, I was picked up by an enormous cruise bus that drove me to the hotel. Apparently there are quite a few Disney-owned hotels here, and quite possibly not much else. During the drive, they turned on two television screens and a loud sound system and played a Disney cartoon, followed by VERY LOUD advertising for different Disney vacations. One was the EPCOT center, where apparently you can ride a gondola and look down "...on California like you've never seen it before!" I think I'll pass!
I finally got to my hotel, which is in a massive complex that's totally Disney-controlled. There's a lagoon (fake?), and fake rocks, and sand that was probably trucked in from elsewhere with palm trees and hammocks. And there's a large eating establishment -- apparently just one -- which will control what I eat and when I eat for the next three days. There's also an outdoor cabana/bar and I already saw a guy that looks like Jimmy Buffett sitting there. There doesn't seem to be a town anywhere nearby, and even if I was able to walk out of this place, the next-nearest thing is another Disney-owned complex. So, here I am! Thanks to Jan and John, who loaned me a portable Logitech stereo for my iPod, I'm at least able to listen to my own music instead of the Disney music channel. Now if I could just figure out how to turn the air-conditioning down...
However, my first flight was late, and I had only 10 minutes on my stopover to race from my first plane to catch my connecting flight, which had already closed the boarding door (and which they reopened for me, to my amazement, and to the disgust of the passengers already on the plane).
I didn't have breakfast, and there was no food on my first flight. I was hopeful that I could buy something on my second one. And I found out just what I could buy on that second flight: pre-bundled vending- machine packets of chips and salami and fake cheese, arranged in themes that someone deemed clever. I would have cried with happiness if they'd brought me one of those old-fashioned hot meals that you used to get on airplanes, with the soft vegetables and the meat with gravy and potatoes.
My first flight had a fly infestation in the back of the plane, for which the airline attendants apologized profusely and told us that we should call United's customer service and file a complaint, implying that there was nothing they could do unless we went up the chain of command. Meanwhile, I was seated next to a woman who was returning from a vacation trip to Vietnam. I asked her how she enjoyed it.
WOMAN: Vietnam was a beautiful country, but the information is so controlled....the people are very biased.
ME: How so?
WOMAN: Well, they have a really negative attitude about the Vietnam war.
ME: [...pause...] Well, that's understandable. I'm sure that when there's a long war fought in your own country and you see lots of destruction, it's hard to feel good about it.
WOMAN: Well, they have American tourism there. They really shouldn't have such an attitude.
ME: Hmmmmm.
WOMAN: But there are some real-estate bargains there, I'm telling you. It's a good time to invest, but prices are already going up.
ME: Prices are going up everywhere.
Luckily, she took this opportunity to put on her headphones and tune me out, so I did the same.
Flight number 2 was a bit better. The passenger next to me was a Canadian businessman who was also on his way to a conference -- though not the same one. We mixed and matched the "food" packets of our vending-machine bundles, and he explained to me how the value of the Canadian dollar -- higher now than the US dollar -- is hurting Canadian business.
On arrival at the airport in Orlando, I was picked up by an enormous cruise bus that drove me to the hotel. Apparently there are quite a few Disney-owned hotels here, and quite possibly not much else. During the drive, they turned on two television screens and a loud sound system and played a Disney cartoon, followed by VERY LOUD advertising for different Disney vacations. One was the EPCOT center, where apparently you can ride a gondola and look down "...on California like you've never seen it before!" I think I'll pass!
I finally got to my hotel, which is in a massive complex that's totally Disney-controlled. There's a lagoon (fake?), and fake rocks, and sand that was probably trucked in from elsewhere with palm trees and hammocks. And there's a large eating establishment -- apparently just one -- which will control what I eat and when I eat for the next three days. There's also an outdoor cabana/bar and I already saw a guy that looks like Jimmy Buffett sitting there. There doesn't seem to be a town anywhere nearby, and even if I was able to walk out of this place, the next-nearest thing is another Disney-owned complex. So, here I am! Thanks to Jan and John, who loaned me a portable Logitech stereo for my iPod, I'm at least able to listen to my own music instead of the Disney music channel. Now if I could just figure out how to turn the air-conditioning down...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
saving the world, one sale at a time
Lately I've been reading books and articles about selling. They're written for salespeople and speak the language of their profession: a world unknown to me until the past few months or so.
From what I've read lately, selling is a service. Better still, don't even call it selling...you're actually "uncovering" your customer's needs, you're solving a problem, you're healing a customer's pain. From this perspective, if you're in sales, you're a therapist. A troubleshooter. A rescuer. A healer.
And under the best of circumstances, this sometimes actually happens. A good salesperson is someone who listens first, then recommends. And better still, also discourages me from making the wrong choice, like a friend. However, this only happens, and rarely so, when I'm in the driver's seat: when I make the call or go to the store with the intention of buying something or at least researching it. Or when something breaks and I need to replace it right away.
But what about telemarketers? Like the subprime mortgage lenders who call me without my permission -- even now, with the housing crash in the news everyday? Are they trained to believe they're performing a public service, as well?
Does the "you're doing good deeds" philosophy show up in every profession? If so, then everyone must believe that they're making the world a better, safer, cleaner, happier place. One sale at a time.
From what I've read lately, selling is a service. Better still, don't even call it selling...you're actually "uncovering" your customer's needs, you're solving a problem, you're healing a customer's pain. From this perspective, if you're in sales, you're a therapist. A troubleshooter. A rescuer. A healer.
And under the best of circumstances, this sometimes actually happens. A good salesperson is someone who listens first, then recommends. And better still, also discourages me from making the wrong choice, like a friend. However, this only happens, and rarely so, when I'm in the driver's seat: when I make the call or go to the store with the intention of buying something or at least researching it. Or when something breaks and I need to replace it right away.
But what about telemarketers? Like the subprime mortgage lenders who call me without my permission -- even now, with the housing crash in the news everyday? Are they trained to believe they're performing a public service, as well?
Does the "you're doing good deeds" philosophy show up in every profession? If so, then everyone must believe that they're making the world a better, safer, cleaner, happier place. One sale at a time.
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