Posted on October 15, 2013 under Storytelling with 2 comments

The way we conduct business transactions today leaves me speechless by times.  We truly live in a cashless society.  When was the last time that you made a purchase of any significance and hauled out a wad of bills?  Even cheques are becoming obsolete.  Touch screens and barcodes and chips are all the rage and it seems that, almost every day, a new way to pay finds its way into the market place.

I have become acutely aware of this as I recently purchased “square technology.”  This is a system that uses a small device that attaches to your cell phone or iPad, enabling people to buy things from you, wherever you are, using their credit cards.  Look around the Farmer’s Market this weekend and you’ll see what I mean.  The software generates an electronic receipt that arrives in the customer’s inbox within moments of the transaction.  I have been told that this device will work anywhere, even deep in the forest.  I am not so certain that a bear would be all that interested in purchasing one of my books.

But it wasn’t always this way.

It is not all that long ago that the only way to pay for goods and services was cash or barter.  And this marketplace still survives, although sometimes out of sight of the taxman.

If the shape of business is now square, there was an iconic store in Antigonish in years gone by that utilized cylindrical technology.  The old Goodman store on the Main had an elaborate system of handling transactions.  The office was located on the second floor of the building and most of the merchandise was located on the first floor.  When a purchase was made and money tendered, the salesclerk would put an invoice and the cash in a cylindrical tube and place it inside another tubular structure.  Then physics would take over as the device was sucked up by a giant vacuum system and just like magic, the tube would arrive in the office upstairs.  Moments later, any change owing, along with a receipt, would make its way back through the labyrinth of pipes and reach its destination, landing in a receptacle containing a bag of sand to dull the sound.

When the store held its annual “White Elephant Sale” there was a lot of activity within the pipes.

And speaking of shapes, many a teenage girl bought her first bra at Goodman’s.  In most cases she would be escorted by her mother and taken to a discrete section of the store, the “foundation department”, where several experienced saleswomen would assist with the fitting.  This was done out in the open as the bra was fastened over the young girl’s outer clothing.  It is very likely that this traumatic experience spawned the birth of Victoria’s Secret.

The son of one of the employees had a part time job at the store in his teenage years.  Known as a prankster of sorts, he would occasionally buy rubber worms from the local five and dime and put them in the cylinders and beam them upstairs.  The shrieks could be heard resonating throughout the store when the contents emerged in the office above.

And one Friday evening, when the streets were bustling with shoppers, he and a friend went to the third floor, grabbed a mannequin, dressed it, opened a window and tossed it out as blood curdling yells emanated from a recording device.  Terrified pedestrians watched in horror as the life-like figure hurled to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces.

Nowadays, you can do most of your shopping from the comfort of your own home – a different kind of vacuum.

Wherever you are, take a stroll down Main Street and experience some old-fashioned customer service.  Great stores and great staff … priceless.

Posted on October 14, 2013 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

Happy Thanksgiving Day. If you and your family are well, you have much to be thankful for.

My book is in the hands of the printer and I will have copies in my possession within the next week or so. If you live in the area, you can get one directly from me. I am working out the logistics of an e-book for those of you who live abroad. The books will also be available at the 5 to $1.00. If you go to the book tab, it will show the places and dates where I will be doing readings to support the launch of the book.

As promised, my story on the old Goodman store will appear tomorrow. It’s called “The Shape of Business.” While the pneumatic air tube system no longer exists in these parts, I am told by friends in Scotland that the technology is alive and well in some old stores over there. Many of us lament the passing of these wonderful old stores with their uneven floors and even tempered staff. Sorry. But they just don’t make many of them like this any more. Even I liked going to Margolians in Truro.

And speaking about stores, don’t you just love when there’s a sale? Not for me. It means that there will be crowds and wild eyed shoppers. A friend from Newfoundland was at a 30% sale not long ago. God love the young girl at the cash who wouldn’t know a percent from a unicorn. And I quote… ” Everything here is 30% off so you would get this $12.00 hat for, like, $6.00.”

I was thinking about the notion of retirement the other day ( not for me personally… just the notion! ). When I saw that Alice Munroe recently won a Nobel Prize for writing, I thought I would add this to my growing list of retirement strategies along with 649 tickets and Roll up the Rim.

I have a story coming up that just might be my favorite so far. I can’t tell you too much without spoiling it. I saw something on Facebook the other day. It was a word I had never seen before about a certain body part. The moment I saw it, the story crystallized. I can’t even alert you to the title nor will I put a picture with it when I publish it. Hint: it has to do with “sex education.”

Have a relaxing day.

LLL.

Posted on October 11, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

I am an avid walker.  I used to be an avid runner but the ravages of time and the constant pounding on the joints, have put me on the sidelines.  I walk back and forth to work every day, a roundtrip of five kilometers and some days will do the route twice.  Quite honestly, if we had public transportation my wife and I might just forego a vehicle altogether.  But sometimes you just have to have a car, especially when company is coming and you are scurrying around with last minute details.

I recently celebrated the 40^th anniversary of my graduation from university and attended some of the Homecoming 2013 activities.  It was great to see old friends and, thankfully, we all wore name tags as some of us (!) have changed our looks over four decades. There are a few extra pounds here and there and the guys’ hair, when still visible, waffles between grey and white.

We had agreed once again to host a gathering at our house after the class dinner, an opportunity to chat and sing a few old tunes.  Most of us no longer go to the Welcome Home pub on Saturday night for a variety of reasons but the ear-splitting volume of the music is chief among them.  We used to thrive on this but these days it’s just too loud … and they aren’t writing songs like they did in the 70s anyway.

Upon our arrival at the dinner, we parked our car at the cathedral which is the nearest parking lot to where the dinner was being held.  We mixed, we mingled, we dined and we drank.  Some drank more than they mixed and mingled and the resulting din caused a few to turn their hearing aids down.  After all of the speeches and dessert, it was time for the class photo.

Herding cats would have been easier as the photographer, a good natured soul, tried to get the assemblage to take their positions.  Sensing that this may take more than a few minutes, my wife announced her departure so that she could go home and have everything set to go, as company would be arriving shortly.

After what seemed like an eternity, the photo session ended. I decided against asking for a ride as it was a beautiful evening, so I headed out on foot for home.  I sidestepped, like landmines, bands of roving intoxicated students and walked briskly, in an attempt to get home before the first guests appeared.

Our car was not in the driveway when I reached the house. I figured that my wife was out getting the three bags of ice we needed to fill up the beer cooler.  I opened the back door, and stepped into the kitchen to find my wife putting snacks on the kitchen table.

I will spare you the discussion that ensued.  Use your imagination.  She had taken a cab home so that I could make a speedy departure in our car, ahead of our visitors.

There is a famous line from the iconic film, “Cool Hand Luke”.  The warden turns to the prisoner (Paul Newman) and says, “What we got here is a failure to communicate.”

Before we could sort out the mix up, the first wave of classmates was on the doorstep.  It was rather embarrassing handing one of them a $20 bill and asking him to go pick up ice.

The following morning, I walked back to retrieve my car from the church parking lot.  There was a Mass going on.  Our car was completely boxed in by church goers.  I sat in silence waiting for Mass to end and thought about those days in school when miscreants had to go to the blackboard and write lamentations a hundred times.

I could see myself standing there, writing in bold letters, over and over, “I must listen more carefully to my wife.”