My first boss

Wednesday, October 24, 2007 at 11:04 pm (Hack for Hire)
Tags: , , ,

One of the benefits of working for yourself is, of course, being your own boss. But having a boss isn’t always bad — in fact, I’ve been blessed with some great bosses in my career. My most memorable, however, happens to be my first boss. In fact, Henrietta tops my personal “Most Unforgettable Character” list.

Henrietta (known as Bubbles to her husband Herman, whom she called Barney. I don’t know what’s more priceless: Herman & Henrietta or Barney & Bubbles) was my boss when I was a student worker at Pitt over the summers and part-time during the school year. She was in her mid-60s at the time, and there was nothing she didn’t know how to do or couldn’t find out by making a few phone calls — from unbolting and moving a 30-lb. typewriter to unjamming the Xerox machine to finding out the ZIP code of Little Rock. (Remember these were long before the days when the Internet put all the information that exists at your fingertips. You had to be a detective to get answers.)

She was amazing on the phone, never hesitating a second before saying “I’ll just call and find out” whenever anyone asked anything she didn’t know and taking everything in in her one good ear (the right — you’d always have to remember to talk toward her good ear). All this as she dashed around the office in typical mom-style stretch pants and untypical four-inch Candies.

Read the rest of this entry »

2 Comments

Reminiscents

Wednesday, October 24, 2007 at 2:30 am (Writing by Ear)
Tags: , ,

I’ve read that our sense of smell is one of our strongest memory triggers. It’s sure true for me. Revlon Aquamarine lotion = my mother. Grapes on the vine = home, where we had a grape arbor running along the back of the house. Fresh mulch = gardens, spring, fall, everything good. Certain perfumes = certain people, for better or worse.

My family has even dubbed a certain scent “babydolls,” and we all know exactly what that is. I can sit here and remember the smell of my dad’s old records. I can think open that door of the buffet where they’re kept and breathe it in. I love that smell.

Think about what scents are triggers for you. Is it a certain flower, a season, a place? Some smells I can’t even define, yet they take me back. A certain fuel oil smell reminds me of being on the ship at Semester at Sea. Some disinfectant smells like grade school. Incense and church — Catholics know that one. And of course there’s “l’air du PAT bus,” a smelly remnant of all those years of commuting.

Imagine the power in all this. If you could assign a scent to something you wanted or needed to remember. “Why, the future value in 20 years of $1500 invested today at 6%? That’s as easy as cherry pie — $4965.” Or, “It’s the darnedest thing. I think of the smell of cinnamon and I can remember everyone’s birthdays.”

If only it worked that way.

Of course, you have to take the bad with the good. Not all smells trigger pleasant memories. But fortunately for me, nearly all of them are.

Simon & Garfunkel gave us the sounds of silence. I present the scent of memories. Breathe it in.

God gave us memories that we
might have roses in December. 
                                      ~ J. M. Barrie

2 Comments

Putting a face to a voice — or not.

Monday, October 22, 2007 at 8:22 am (Hack for Hire, Smile Lines)
Tags: , ,

noface   My business is highly unusual, even among other free agent writers I know, in that I rarely meet my clients face to face. I’ve worked with people for years and yet know them only by their voice on the phone, their e-mail demeanor, their project savvy (or lack thereof).

I had the rare opportunity last Friday to meet one of my favorite clients for the first time. This is a national company I’ve worked with for 8 years or so, with offices all over the U.S., but I only started working with the Pittsburgh office a couple years ago. Elicia and I met for lunch downtown, and it was great to be able to put a face to the voice on the phone and hear about the company firsthand.

She is every bit as vibrant and intelligent in person as she is on the phone and in e-mail. What struck me most, though, is that I have a good 10-12 years on her. Funny thing about voices — unless someone is quite old or quite young, it’s hard to judge age. But yet, there I was — the older woman. Less hip. More hips.

I distinctly remember being one of the youngest at work — if not a wunderkind then at least a kind. Now I can be characterized as “that nice middle-age woman who writes for us.”

I still work with and have stayed friends with coworkers from 20 years ago. We all stumbled into middle age together, so it was hard to notice. But it happened. In fact, when Mike and I met a couple of dear friends for brunch today, our first five minutes were spent excitedly talking about new bifocals, cholesterol test results, and the merits of flaxseed and fish oil. Until we caught ourselves, had a good laugh about our collective geezerhood, and moved on to fresher topics.

So, is my age a help or a hindrance? Does it scream “experience” or “expiration,” especially considering that I work in marketing, where people create buzzes, gain mindshare, crave sticky Web pages, know what’s hot, and disdain what’s not. I honestly don’t know, and I’m not at that place where I can ask my client, “So, were you shocked at my age?”

What I do know:

  • Hair coloring is my friend (even though my mysteriously thinning hair is not).
  • I’m grateful for the visual anonymity of phone and e-mail (and not only because I can work in my bathrobe).
  • I’ve earned these smile lines, but the wonders of “aesthetic enhancement” are sounding better and better. As the commercial says, “Everyone will notice but no one will know.” Now that’s the work of a brilliant marketing writer, at any age.

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
~ Satchel Paige

Comments Off on Putting a face to a voice — or not.

« Older entries Newer entries »