Perhaps some middle ground?

Further to my experiences yesterday of professionals providing we punters with a littletoo much detail about the machinations of their responsibilities in theinterests of outstanding customer service, today we have an all-too-different approach on offer.

Now to be clear up front, today’s long haul flight is my first in many years which has not been with an Asian carrier, and this is my first time ever to have flown with Australia’s national carrier on any journey longer than a couple of hours, so the approach to customer service that is being displayed by the flight crew today may simply be a reflection of cultural diversity.

If one were to view the key to herding passengers on and off a plane and through the lengthy flight as being a customer service exercise best executed with a gentle, carrot and stick mentality, then one can clearly see from amongst the Southeast Asian carriers a pleasant, gentle, overly hospitable manner to coax people along, much as you might expect to experience when invited to share a meal in the home of a Thai or Vietnamese host.

This contrasts dramatically with our Australian hosts who are today dispensing with the carrot, grabbing the stick in two, muscular, tattooed sheep-shearer’s arms, and adopting a threatening stance while staring down any potential opposition with aggressively flared nostrils.  Today, we passengers are being subject to a high rotation of disgruntled, waspish directions from the ageing purser in her most condescending, School Marmish sneer;

“I would like to remind all passengers that the Captain has put the fasten seat belt light on and you are all to sit down immediately”, followed a couple of minutes later by an even more snidey,

“Passengers are again reminded to stop getting out of your seats”, and a few minutes later – thoroughly pissed now at the passenger body’s general affront to her authority,

“Right, now … for the safety of all the passengers you need to siddown and keep your seat belt on!”.

And then, in a final, exasperated attempt to address the insolence of the anarchic, seat-belt flaunting passengers throughout the cabin, our irritated purser must have gone to a higher authority.  The Captain’s voice crackled aggressively on the intercom,

“Ah it has been brought to my attention that passengers are not observing the fasten seat belt sign.  May I remind you that I control this vessel and it is not your decision to walk around the cabin … it’s mine!”.

Ha!  If there’s one thing that’s gonna drive this passenger to mile-high lawlessness, it’s a direct order from someone in self-imposed authority!  Two days; two customer service don’ts!  How ironic that Australia’s national carrier is currently in political hot water at home for sending all its maintenance services offshore to Asia; the exact place which would serve it well in terms of learning some improved approaches to customer service.

The purser on today's flight delivered a pretty good rendition of the embittered, angry school marm.  Pic: http://www.flickr.com/photos/leahpraytor/5042543533/

Scott Morrison; MP, racist … bully

Scott Morrison’s interview with the ABC’s chief politicalcorrespondent, Sabra Lane, this morning from Adelaide was an exercise in everything that is rotten about politics in Australia today.  The leaderless cancer eating away at the ranks of the ALP is so malignant that the Opposition knows well it need do absolutely nothing to get into power in September … nothing at all … not even needing to develop workable, articulate or costed policies.

This was certainly clear from a snarling Scott Morrison this morning whose aggression right from the go-get soon descended into paranoiac accusations of the ABC meddling in Coalition affairs, and eventually into outright bullying in his juvenile attempts to disguise the clear fact that the Coalition has not even attempted to cost what they are claiming they will do to ‘stop the boats’.

So it seems that Mr Morrison and his Coalition need not exercise any of the baby-kissing traits of conventional politics in the lead-up to this election.  They simply do not feel they need to be liked, and discernible, well-developed and articulated policies appear to be unnecessary also.

No one’s arguing that our current lot are doing very much for our best interests at present, but at least there is some compassion in the way they talk to and treat the electorate.  Not so Mr Morrison and his ilk.  I mourn the loss of humanity as a trait we value in our leaders.

Introducing the Coalition’s new media advisers.  Pic: http://csu301d.wordpress.com

Cracking the Mousey Browns

So we're just sitting here watching the box the other night and out of the corner of my eye, I see a farking mouse!  Well, I'm hoping it's a mouse and not a rat ... but Fark!  A Farking mouse!

Now I don't wanna say I was born with a silver spoon up my arse, but I have managed to get through the first 36 years of my life without having had to deal with mice!  Sure, I've had possums, snakes, massive cockroaches and ridiculous, steal-your-baby-sized tropical spiders ... but never mice!

Makes me feel like I've failed 'cause my place is now so dirty that vermin wanna live here.  Gross man.  It's always the way; you finally give-in and get a cleaner every 2 weeks 'cause you don't have tome to live and clean, so instead of actually cleaning  a bit here and there every few days, you do absolutely nothing and let the place turn into a cesspit for 2 weeks until the cleaner comes, just so that you get your money's worth ... well, that's what we do, anyway.

So my first step in 'Operation Eliminate Jerry' was to ignore it all and hope it went away.  The next day, I find the end of an open banana gone.  Mr Belfast tells me that traps work, and that yes, they really do go for cheese, so against all my innate, animal rights sensibilities, I went and bought some traps and set 'em up with cheese.

The next day, the bastards had eaten through a plum, another banana-end and a tomato (which they carried half-way across the room in a parody of one of those old-school Disney, ants-at-the-picnic cartoons.  The cheese was untouched.

So I bite the bullet and decide that if they don't like cheese, but they eat bananas and tomatoes, I'll set the traps with that.  I also vacuumed the Begeezus out of the space behind the oven.  Since then, nothing on the traps has been touched, so I'm tipping they're either US Military-prototype Cyborg Mice with enhanced intelligence, or they've farked-off somewhere else.

Not sure which I'd prefer.  But I still feel dirty.

Cute, my arse!  This little, smug bastard was the nastiest piece of work going.  That big, fat, black lady in the stripey socks just couldn't ever see it.  Pic: http://4photos.net

Fines fail to deter cyclists running red lights

From today's Age:
http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/fines-fail-to-deter-cyclists-running-red-lights-20110410-1d9fb.html


Isn't it great to have such a wonderful, informed, slightly left-leaning daily broadsheet to keep the news on the straight and narrow - Geezus, The Age!  Why not just give Andrew Bolt the Editor in Chief possie and be done with it - far better to incite already alarming driver hatred for cyclists, than to offer the balanced view that we two-wheelers face every day, such as being regularly cut off while in designated bike space, rammed from behind on roundabouts, literally knocked sideways from indicator-shy taxis, having to swerve into traffic to avoid pedestrians walking off curbs without looking while on mobile phones, or watching-out for people making a run for the tram despite the last flash of the 'red man' having been well and truly rested.


Why aren't there covert police operations investigating these, daily events?  And while I'm at it, how about tackling all the ridiculously fast, loud, hotted-up, hoon mobiles and motorbikes, all over the roads in the day and night - perhaps that might be a better use of the law enforcement dollar?


But thanks The Age - this is great stuff.  All I need now is a few more angry Commodore, taxi and 4WD drivers giving me the forks while swerving across bike lanes 'for fun', abusing me for assuming my designated place in front of them at the lights, or pulling-up and opening car doors in no-standing, designated bike zones.


How 'bout some reflection of where we'd all be if the the tens of thousands of cyclists traversing the inner city each day decided to add a couple of wheels and a V8 engine?  How 'bout some balanced perspective? - my elbows, knuckles, knees and nerves depend on it.

Never mind the stabbings and arm robberies.  Criminals; every one of 'em.  
Pic: http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/fines-fail-to-deter-cyclists-running-red-lights-20110410-1d9fb.html