johnvano.com

The Personal Touch

I feel important and valued when I walk into my local RaceTrac for and 89-cent fountain beverage and today's USA Today. Why? Because every time the door swings open in a RaceTrac, an employee sings, "Good morning!" or "Welcome to RaceTrac!"

Their greetings are always so sincere-sounding and robust, and when I look up to greet this warm voice, I'm often confused. Where did the sound come from? Was it that girl stocking shelves with her back to me? Was it the woman completing a sale at the register? Was it the woman wiping down the splash bar by the drink dispenser? I don't know. Sometimes, I return volley and share a robust, "Thank you!" or "Good morning!" but most of the time, my words stumble out and are stopped at "Than--k" or "Goo--d" because I can see no place to direct my reply.

It is then that I feel cheap and kinda unwelcome. I see other customers walk through the doors and they just ignore the programmed greetings. I want to be like these callous neighbors, but I can't, because I yearn for those things that make us a community: Eye-contact, a "hello," holding the door open for a trailing member of the human race, and yielding to pedestrians.

Thank you RaceTrac, for starting the conversation, but please let your eyes linger on your customer a little more, so that we can wish you a "good morning," too.

The Family Spokesman

You know you've really made it when you have a "family spokesman." Where can I get one of those?

My Orange Crush Christmas

In simpler times--when I didn't maintain a four sodas-a-day habit--pop did not flow freely down my esophagus. The fridge was always stocked with my dad's habit (I'm imagining 2-liter Coke bottles, but we might not have had them in that size yet), but we children had no access to that. We pedaled down the road and spent our allowance on candy and pop at the SuperAmerica convenience store, or got pop with our kid's meal at McDonald's or Burger King.

One Christmas when I was about 12, my sisters and I each received a 12-ounce can of pop in our Christmas stockings. Mine was a can of Orange Crush. I remember having a wooden bottle opener-display shelf that I made in shop (actually, my shop teacher made it as I watched smugly. I could never do anything in shop, so I tried to hand over my projects as "the example" so that "Teach" could make mine and I could pass the class)--on this I proudly displayed my special can of confection.

My sisters quickly downed their drinks, while mine sat dangling four feet off the ground on my little shelf. The days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, until finally--just before the next Christmas--I refrigerated my Orange Crush and gulped it down with bravado in front of my little sisters. Ahh, the pleasure of delayed gratification!

Origin of the Specious

I live in the Atlanta area, and I've come to really appreciate all that the state of Georgia has to offer. Maybe this is because I love to travel so much--or because I have respect for the country life, and a fascination with all things "suth'n". Regardless, I know that we hold many prejudices against places that are just one step removed.

Atlantans don't give much regard to southern Georgians, Georgians poke fun at Alabamians, and Southerns join in full voice to scoff at the West Coast. It happens everywhere--it's just good old-fashioned regional pride, mixed with characterizations of others, and a hearty dose of #1 foam-finger waving.

When I lived in Minnesota, we'd drive through Iowa with our noses plugged. When my aunt lived in Texas, she'd drive around the state of Oklahoma to go north. South Floridians feel that all the northern and panhandle Floridians are a bunch of rednecks. I lived in Upstate New York, and everyone there would have voted to secede from New York City if they could. Likewise, NYC thinks it's a state unto itself.

But our debates and gesticulations are not contained only to where we live, but to the color of our skin, how we act, how much money we make, what political party we belong to, and what we think of God.

Often our opinions are as devoid of substance as whether we were born on the west or the east side of a single state (Massachusetts), and sometimes our opinions have great merit. What's important to debate is not our origins or experience, but our ideas in the light of truth. Then we can cheer with silly abandon for the things that don't matter--like our favorite sports team, or the North vs. the South.

Secrets of the Clap: A Journey of Understanding

Who starts the clap when applause rings through an assembly?

On Sunday at church, one of our members gave a personal testimony of God's strength through his recent hip replacement surgery... he even shared some of the travails surrounding the complications this surgery had on his bladder. In his recap, we all heard a phrase we never thought we'd enjoy together in the house of God--"And now I'm just whizzing like everybody else!" It was his testimony of God's deliverance from a catheter... and we all laughed heartily in response.

There was more to his story, and then it was over. It was a situation where clapping seemed natural, but obligatory--if no one clapped there would only be silence as this man walked back to his seat. We were moved, but not weeping at the beauty of his words. That is when "it" happened--I began to clap. And I was the first... I got the applause started--and it felt so right. It got me thinking about the nature of applause, and how it forms.

It also gave me a power rush--and I may already be addicted--because here's what happened next: On Monday in our staff meeting at work, someone's birthday was announced. This fellah is a quiet and unassuming guy who brings so much to his job everyday, and as soon as his boss made the birthday acknowledgment, I got the sense that no one cared, or at least that no one felt free to care. So I started to clap. And I clapped enthusiastically, and others joined in, but it petered out fast--like the hopeless bunch who try to start "the wave" at baseball games and need to work on it for 3 innings before their wave stretches beyond one section of the stands.

Later, one of my staffers questioned me about the clapping. Her: "What was that about? You were so LOUD." Me: "I thought he should be appreciated, so I got things started." Her: "Yeah, but you started so strong, and then after everyone had stopped you still... CLAP-CLAP-CLAPPED. It was just you." Me: "Really? I didn't notice. I've been interested in the originations of applause since yesterday... Was it that obvious?" Her: "Yeah... it was odd."

So I guess I need to take my minor victory (from Sunday) try not to force it anymore. Here are three of the major categories for applause that I've come up with. Let's be aware of these principles--and try not to get ourselves hurt out there:

Category 1: Spontaneous Clapping Eruption -- This is when something within a person clicks, and they know the only response is a full and hearty pounding on the palms. It is most associated with a universal feeling felt by all observers at the same moment. Generally, the birth of the applause is untraceable, or what I might call: Indeterminate Applause Origination (IAO). No one knows who started it, or if anyone started it at all, we might just be wired to clap when we encounter a moving piece of music or a stirring testimony.

Category 2: Obligatory Applause -- This occurs when clapping is the correct, and proper response, even if you don't personally feel it in the recesses of your being. Certainly there is someone who originates this applause, though most participants determine internally that they will clap whenever the applause reaches their area of the room. My example from church fits category two.

Category 3: The Suggestive Clap (also called Awkward Clapping) -- There are other times when applause is not the natural response, when it really is a hit-or-miss emotional connection. In these cases, some may be moved, while others... not so much. This instance may sometimes result in bullying, where one's applause puts pressure on others to clap, or when a strong leader influences others. Can also result in the One-Man Clapping Scenario as outlined in the story above.

I trust that this tutorial has been of some help to you. Please know, it is only a tutorial, for more on the nature and practice of applause, watch for my book: Secrets of the Clap, coming in October from Warner Books.