LOFT LIFE: Self Talk

  I have to say right out that I am a natural entrepreneur, so I may be a tad impatient with those who may be more insecure about starting a business.  But, let’s think about this.   We are in a bad economy, and people are jobless. That hurts us all, but especially those who somehow believe it is up to the government to make sure they have a job. Really, it isn’t!  

Okay, now I am going to get mail. But anyway....  It is NOT the job of government, or even corporations to make sure you feed your family. In my 33 of doing resumes for people, teaching career workshops, training people for interviews, I can tell you, most people feel very dependent, rather than independent, or even interdependent.

Do you all know that we existed for centuries before "employment" was even a standard? People traded, created, trained, and learned how to offer others something of value in exchange for what they needed. This isn't a new idea.

And, for those who believe having a “job” offers more security than having a business, well, take a look at the last five years. Or ask anyone who got axed after their 24th year at a company, just before they would be able to collect their retirement package, or even the ones who got laid off because they used their health care, or had a workers’ comp claim.  I challenge you to give this some serious thought if you are in the job market. I believe almost everyone is capable of producing some product or service that has some value to others. When my husband was out of work for 27 months, we went door-to-door in our neighborhood with a flyer telling everyone that he could repair any motor.      Well, I want to tell you, I can interview anyone who is willing and find in them some talent or idea that can produce income. So I am not saying everyone knows how to start a business and will succeed. What I am saying is, with some help and guidance, most people can do this.  For instance, I was doing a resume for a gal who wanted an accounting job. After spending two hours interviewing her (my process is very intense and not about typing up job history), I said: “You don’t want to work for someone else, you want to do accounting in your own business.” She replied: “You know, you’re right.”  So I did a brochure for her instead of a resume, and she went out and discovered that many businesses can’t afford a full time employee but needed her services. She landed a job with an owner of five stores, and worked out of her home on his books. She was happy as a...okay, I know...clam. (Why are clams so happy? Is it because they know they have the potential to create a pearl?)  We all have potential to create, because the Creator made us in His image. We all have the potential to produce something of value, because we are here for a purpose.  Please stop whining, moaning, crying, and, for some of you, just getting into the rut of doing not much, and get to work on who you are, why you are here, and what you have to give. Your self talk makes a difference. What you believe is what you tell yourself, and if you believe and tell yourself you are stuck with nothing, or need someone else to “give” you a job, just change your attitude, and give my theory a try. What if I am right?  I am not saying employment is a bad thing. I am saying it isn't your only option: Walk dogs, cook meals, drive old people to appointments, visit the poor, the widows, and the orphans, bake cookies, write resumes, sew children’s clothes, sell things on eBay, write a manual for something you know how to do, teach, dance, sing, help animals, or do whatever it is you love. You can make a living doing any of these things, and many, many people do.  

                 

         I say these words to encourage you, as our priest would say. 

LOFT LIFE: Weekend Capers

I remember reading a Mary Higgins Clark mystery which took place in Cape Cod, and thinking, oh what an elaborate, charming vacation spot that would be. Then, of course, I grew up with the Kennedy’s retreating to their Hyannis Port compound, and admiring the jet set who could join them. It seemed so out of reach in my middle class, suburban Philadelphia life.     

We’ve now been to Cape Cod four times. We live two hours away, so it is an easy weekend destination. I have found out a lot about my fantasies of the area, and also learned things I would never have imagined.

Each time we visit we get more acclimated to the area. We are learning things about the islands. 

Not to get too technical, but I thought I might share just a few tidbits, from the viewpoint of a newbie, an outsider, to arm you for your own visit to The Cape,  and these might make it more enjoyable.

         First, Cape Cod is only referred to as an island because of the Cape Cod Canal, cutting through the peninsula to allow all but the stickler geographers to call it an island. This is why you must enter The Cape by auto over either the Bourne or the Sagamore Bridges.

But, beyond its geography, its dunes, its sandy beaches, its lighthouses, and its national landmarks, we have found it’s important to learn the language of this Boston escape.

For one thing, no one except the tourist and uninitiated would ever refer to the area as Cape Cod. It is The Cape. Like many Massachusetts names, it is abbreviated, i.e., Northampton is Hamp, avenues are aves, and even the state is called Mass by its natives. The Massachusetts Turnpike becomes the Mass Pike, and Massachusetts Avenue is Mass Ave. If you don’t normally talk this way, they know you’re a stranger, a visitor, a tourist, or at least from someplace else.

The insider track to The Cape is way more complicated. Upper and Lower Cape for instance, are not intuitive. Upper Cape would be, for the logical, the northern part of the island, but it is not. Perhaps that is because The Cape lays mostly east to west, with Provincetown (P-Town to those who know) stretching north. Still the far eastern and northern towns are in Lower Cape, and the islands of Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket lie to the south across the Nantucket Sound. But, since we have not ventured to those yet, let’s stick to The Cape for now.    

We’re finding a kind of elitism when we talk to our friends in Mass about The Cape. When we tell them we are going for the weekend, they don’t say, “Oh we love The Cape.” They say, “Oh, where?” So the first time, when we were going to Falmouth in the Upper Cape, they simply smiled and said, “Oh that’s a nice town.”  When we confessed to Mid-Cape Dennis as our second destination, they indicated that maybe we would want to venture further next time. 

So when a Living Social deal came up, and our time shares in Falmouth and Dennis were not available (really the only reason we selected those towns), we thought, “Hmm, maybe Eastham will impress them more. Okay, I guess we might care just a tad that we have moved from, “Oh we are going to Cape Cod,” to “Oh, we’re going to Eastham on The Cape this weekend.” So rather than a few raised eyebrows, there were some definite nods of approval.

After our first Eastham visit, where we discovered the Atlantic Spice Co. in North Truro, some great coffee places in P-Town, and the PB Boulangerie Bistro in Wellfleet, up the road from Eastham, we were beginning to see why the snobbery about town choices. The people of Falmouth were lovely to us, and Dennis was fine. But, we are getting attached to Eastham, Wellfleet, and North Truro for their beaches, their shops, and their community spirit.   

The Town Crier Motel didn’t sound like a solid choice, but it turned out to be lovely, well-run and very homey. It is also next to Arnold’s, which we were to find out is one of the favorite seafood places. We love their beet salad, with arugula, candied walnuts and goat cheese.     

On our second visit to Town Crier, this time in June instead of October, we found Arnold’s much more crowded, so the two seats at the end of a long table, looked attractive. We begged to share the table with two women who gladly welcomed us to bring our beet salads and salmon to join them. Who says New Englanders are cold?    

After a half hour of friendly conversation, worth way more than a Tourist Center stop, we found ourselves nodding when this mother and daughter bragged that they had already been to Arnold’s three times in this summer getaway. The mom was from Eastham, and it was obvious she wished she had never moved away, and was glad to be back as a resident and town official.

Our Living Social included the buffet breakfast, which on Saturday morning was abbreviated from a full cooked breakfast to Continental fare, which we figured out happened because there was an important town meeting at 10:00 a.m. The owner, Judy, and Margaret, her front desk person, had been working hard to get votes for city water. Evidently there had already been lawsuits from contaminated well water problems. The vote failed by a small margin, much to their dismay. Judy even said she would have been willing to pay more than her share if the poorer residents couldn’t handle the levy to improve the water. This passion for their town allowed us to see how much this resort is also a residential community, with year-round living for locals who deeply care about community, safety, health--the things we from less fantastical places care about.

Since we are only weekend Capers, I am sure without this insight from our Arnold’s dinner and our breakfast at Judy’s place (Town Crier) we would have not appreciated this view.

We loved the perks Judy offered her Living Social guests--breakfast, Ben & Jerry’s up the street, bicycle rental, and a covered swimming pool. The rooms are clean and quiet, and the general maintenance is excellent. We lost our key at a visit to Pump House surf shop in Orleans. I had forgotten my bathing suit, and we were happy to find it open till 7 p.m. with a good selection for me to remedy my loss. The sales person, Jami, had delivered our key back to Town Crier by that evening, which told us, again, that this is a close-knit community. They know each other. Judy’s son said, “Well, we would have done the same thing for her.”

 

We were fortunate that our weekend was sunny--October had been rainy, so we decided to see Coast Guard Beach in Eastham first, and then ventured back to North Truro to see the HIghland Lighthouse.    

All of this makes us feel more attached. We were welcomed warmly, but we know it will take more visits to get to know these people better, and we plan to do just that. The Cape is no longer a fantasy. We are so blessed to make it a regular destination.

LOFT LIFE: Coffee, Starbucks and the marketing game

I drink Starbucks coffee at home because I buy the Kirkland version of their breakfast brew. I drink Starbucks coffee at their stores mostly because I have a loyalty card with dollars on it that, for some reason, I advance them money for. What a great marketing game!   

When we had the whole Year 2000 scare that life as we know it would end when the computers and clocks of the world came to a halt, my son said: “You need to stock up on guns and coffee. Coffee, because many people can’t live normally without it, and guns to protect your coffee."

The marketing gimmick at Starbucks is a curious human behavior psychology though. There is other coffee. There is other coffee I like, and even prefer to Starbucks--Panera Bread’s coffee, for instance. 

Panera Bread doesn’t make me jump through hoops to get a free refill. They offer me as many free refills as I can drink on a visit. I don’t need to advance them money, or get stars, or any of that. And their coffee isn’t bitter. But there aren’t many Panera Bread’s at airports, which gets me back to the fact that the Starbucks loyalty card is really convenient.

I do like Starbucks’ new Refreshers, especially the lime one. These are the ones with green coffee, which I think don’t really have any nutritional benefits, as I understand it, because the green beans are roasted. *sigh*

Recently I read that Starbucks is granting a star for any Starbucks product purchase, whether in their stores, or somewhere else--like Costco--where their products are available, and that all you have to do is follow directions to get the credit.

I bought two pounds of coffee at Costco, and then discovered that I was five days too early for the launch of that program. No stars. Then I purchased a case of refreshers at the Costco near my daughter’s home in California, kept the receipt and tried to put in the receipt code on my Starbucks account. Nope. I need the code from some special STAR on the package--which, of course, I didn’t realize then, so it is back in Los Angeles, probably in some trash heap by now.

I tried to purchase another case of Starbuck’s Refreshers here in Connecticut, ‘cause I like ‘em, but guess what. Connecticut people didn’t buy enough for Costco to carry these here. So,  still no stars. That’s three starless Costco purchases so far. And, the other downside of the Starbucks retail store refreshers is that they don’t come in the two flavors offered at the Starbuck’s stores.

So really, why am I so hep to get more stars, to get from the Green to Gold Starbucks level? Ummm. they give you a free cup of coffee if you are gold. At least I think they do. Not totally sure. 

And, oh, and I had 24 stars toward the 30 I needed to get to gold, and somehow they all disappeared recently and I had to start over. Something about an expiration date.

This seems like a lot of work and complication just to get a free cup of coffee that I don’t even prefer. But, still I keep that card on automatic reload. 

Do you think I should just wait until I see a Panera Bread at the airport and chuck the whole Starbucks prepaid card thing?

Oh the power of marketing.

LOFT LIFE: Connections

I should have known complications were on my itinerary when my son-in-law questioned my wisdom in booking three connections from Windsor Locks, CT to Burbank, CA. 

“I’m trying to fly into a closer airport so you don’t have to drive to LAX,” I defended.

On a previous trip he had requested I do this. But, I think he believed I could do it in no more than two airplane connections. And, that was before he had spent three years getting used to California freeways. You do get used to the freeway crawl, believe it or not.

Anyway, the trip out found me delayed in Newark, which added three hours to an already long ten hour day in flight and in airports. That meant I got to Burbank at 8:30pm, instead of 5:30pm. Oh well.

After a lovely five-day visit with my daughters, including a Culver City lunch patio lunch at Tender Greens, with all three, 

 and some wonderful excursions with my youngest,

which included good old California cuisine, Japanese boba tea (or as the newbies would call it, bubble tea), a cheese shop in Topanga Canyon

where celebrity sightings have been known to happen, a macaroon shop in Beverly Hills,

     

we made a trip to the gym to celebrate my youngest’s new membership. We skipped the cold pressed smoothie-juice bars. You know while Southern Californians are deciding on which type of smoothie shop to visit, we in New England are trying to find somewhere that actually makes healthful smoothies. The pickings are slim, as they say.

I also had a wonderful Mother's Day Sunday starting at Bel Air Presbyterian Church where the memorable guest preacher was Carlo Campo, President of Regent University in Virginia,

and followed later by a fantastic dinner at Fleming's, of lamb chops and a berries and cream dessert.  

Anyhoo, back to airplanes, it was on my plan for a red eye back home where I began to agree with son-in-law. Maybe it was my daughter’s scolding on the way to leg one of three, at Burbank, “Mom, don’t ever do this again. We will drive to L.A.”

I was early for my 6:00 pm flight from Burbank to San Francisco. Finally, we boarded at 5:30 pm, sat on the tarmac, apparently waiting for something or someone. About fifteen minutes after boarding the pilot came on the P.A. “Not good news,” he said.

So there are two “pins” in the cabin door, and one of them was missing. The pilot called to see if we could fly with one, and, I guess, was told that “the airplane has many parts, and we need all of them to fly.” I pictured the cabin door bursting open mid-flight, kind of like when the Muppets made their fly-through-the-air landing, and figured that being delayed would be a better option.

So we all deplaned from the regional jet, and stood in line to be re-booked, just in case, right!, they couldn’t get the part quickly.  They couldn’t. I ended up on the shuttle to LAX to try to get my second connection,the red eye, to Newark.

Amazingly, even with a 10 pm flight from LAX to Newark, instead of a 6 pm one, from Burbank to San Fran, I DID make the connection. So this only made my 10 hours into fourteen hours. This is the house of cards result of my elaborate three connections.

But had this not happened, I would not have met John Fortune, a jazz-blues musician, originally from Haiti. I went to John’s website, www.john4tune.com and was delighted to listen to previews of his albums. I love Blues Jam from his Hand in Hand album. Check it out. 

I was concerned about not making my Newark connection, but the shuttle driver assured me I would. He told me to relax. I asked his name, and he said it was Chris, but I pushed and got his real name, Hacheek. He was an Armenian Christian, and we had a lovely chat about Armenia and the faith there. He continued to tell me to relax, and I did make it on time, as he said I would, even with the extra stop to drop off John at his home.

All in all, I agree with Hacheek. It is best to just relax and enjoy the journey and all its serendipities, which really can be fun if you look at it that way.

LOFT LIFE - A few of my favorite things

Hey, if Oprah can list her favorite things, why not moi? The difference: well, the obvious that I have about 300 in my audience, albeit, I seem to be gaining quite a few in Germany for some reason, and she has millions, and I do not have financial gain from my touting of my favs (unless you count Google ads which haven't resulted in a check yet).

So here is my partial list and my reasons why:

Enterprise. I want to say, I can’t really understand why any other car rental company is still in business. For decades we have used Avis, Budget, National, Alamo and the occasional lower budget ones. These were not usually positive experiences. I am not sure why we had never tried Enterprise, but now we have, and the difference is astounding! Not only do they pick you up and drop you off, their whole attitude is almost in the hard to believe category. Here’s an example:

I rented an Enterprise car in Rockford. They allow a grace period for returns of a generous one hour. I was two hours late. I got lost--yes, amazingly I turned on Harlem instead of Mulford going to State Street and somehow got as far as the Harlem TOLL ROAD before I realized I was not going to see State Street any time soon. I was shaking, looking at the clock, realizing this would add another day’s charge to my bill, and still not sure how to get back to State Street.

When I arrived at Enterprise, I was pretty rattled. My friend Gail was already in the parking lot, waiting for me to return my paperwork and pay up. Then she noticed me standing at the counter making gestures like throwing up my hands, looking like I was very, very upset. What I was actually saying was: “But, you have to charge me more, because I am two hours late.” To which John, the Enterprise fellow said, “No, no, it’s okay.” I continued ranting about how I owed them more and they didn’t need to be so generous. At that point Gail came in to comfort me. She’s a marriage and family therapist. She threw her arms around me and gave me a sustained calming hug, during which I said, “but I owe them for being late and they won’t let me pay.” She dropped her hug hands and said, “Is that why you’re upset?”  She started laughing. I started laughing. John started laughing. I didn’t pay more.

Now, tell me? Is that your typical car rental agency?

Bay State Hospital. As you all know, I don’t do interstates. So, every time I am a passenger riding through Springfield, MA, I try to envision what would happen if we had an emergency that required ME driving to the hospital for someone in trouble. Surface streets could work, but it is a roundabout way and very long, not good for emergencies.

Well, it happened. My dear hubby had an event that by 11:00 pm resulted in the need for a hospital. From all of the stories I have heard, the only hospital nearby I would risk allowing to treat someone I love is Bay State. But, even at 11:00 pm, I don’t do interstates. I paged through the church directory looking for someone somewhat close to Enfield, and landed happily on Joe’s name. He’s a professional driver and lives in West Springfield.

He was awake, happy to help, came to get us, and delivered us to the emergency area. I found out it could be a six hour wait (people tend to use emergency rooms for things they probably should have taken care of before 6:00 pm at an urgent care center--people like US), so I told Joe to go home, go to sleep, and I would call him in the morning.

In general, I hate hospitals, but when you need them, you want a good one.  

After hubby had his forms filled out, his vitals checked and we had waited about two hours, most of his symptoms had corrected--mostly he wasn’t doing the pernicious vomiting anymore, so even though we had gotten sort of checked in, I went to the desk and said, “We seem better. Can we change our minds?” The staff at Bay State ER is amazingly caring, friendly and professional. They said, “Sure, and if the symptoms return, be sure to come back.” I asked what the charges were, and they said, “Well, you haven’t officially been admitted, so nothing.” I called a cab at 2:00 am and we went home. Not one of the most fun dates hubby and I have had, but Bay State made it as pleasant as it could possibly have been. Thank you staff.

Bigelow Commons. We live in an old carpet mill factory that has been converted into loft apartments. The architecture is awesome, with exposed brick, 20 ft. ceilings, huge windows, lots of light, and a really pleasant layout. The office and maintenance staff are amazingly attentive, kind, thoughtful, and really try to respond to our requests as quickly and efficiently as they can. This is a carefree life. We have two swimming pools, an exercise room, a weight room, tennis court, racquetball court, and even exercise classes, if we want them.  

We never have to shovel snow, mow grass or even change a light bulb. They have community barbecues, chili cook-offs, parties and are open to suggestions for other events. They provide the beverages, the paper products, the large screen TV, and do all the planning. What’s not to like? We are very glad we moved here.

Mystic. We travel a lot. We go to Cape Cod, Sturbridge, Stockbridge, West Dover, VT, and many other New England treasures. But, we always come back to Mystic if we really are deciding on a great day trip. We just love it there. We like strolling through the town, having coffee at Bartleby’s Cafe, pizza at Mystic Pizza, and we love the Seaport, B.F. Clyde’s Cider Mill (the only remaining steam-powered cider mill in the U.S.), and we also love our walks around Old Mystic.

 Whether it’s the gorgeous New England fall foliage on the journey from our place to Mystic, or the sea breeze on a warm summer day, or the blossoming trees in the spring, or even the coziness of a B&B, and a wine tasting in the winter months, we love Mystic.

So there you are. Four of my favorite things.

LOFT LIFE - Forming community is easier with help

I have learned something recently. In the three and a half years I have been publishing my blog here, I have probably resorted to begging for people to sign up as followers.

I don’t have a problem getting thousands of “reads” on my blog. I have, or at least I perceive, a problem with getting that little “follower” counter to increase. I ask myself, how do I get 7200 reads and only 72 followers?

Part of the answer is that I am solo in forming this community for my blog.

So a serendipity happened that taught me an important blogging lesson:

I began posting my SAME column on www.allrecipes.com as a premium member of that community, and amazing, my comments almost quadrupled. Lesson? 

They already have community. It’s that simple. I plug into an already formed community and my own community expands. Good news.

I also find friends and friends’ blogs there, like Petey’s Home on the Range blog, about farm life, with fabulous photos and stories about the animals, and some really, really good recipes, and Baking Nana’s rant about the poison in our food. I have found a good friend in her. The site itself is wonderful, filled with good recipes, good friends and good reading. I especially like Chef John's video cooking lessons.

One of the ideas I have used from Pat Flynn, who publishes some of the most helpful articles, blogs and podcasts for us bloggers and online entrepreneurs on www.smartpassiveincome.com  is to work with other bloggers. I love www.daisygirlproductions.blogspot.com 

and have formed an alliance with her for our blogs. We chat, we share, we leave comments, and now we even play Words with Friends on FB. Community. Ain’t it great!

Pat Flynn also has really great information on forming affiliations. I will take his advice very soon. And. he publishes his online income statements monthly just so we can see where his sources are. That alone gives him a solid following. More community.

So rather than re-inventing the wheel in forming my own community, I am now learning to attach to communities who have cross-networked with me, and that is working much, much better.

LOFT LIFE - Life

I probably should wait a few weeks before writing this. During deep emotional response to life’s little losses, isn’t always the best time to express raw feeling. But,then if I wait a few weeks, the raw feeling will get analyzed, objectified, and dried out--so maybe it is better to write during the feeling time.

It’s about a series of losses I have had lately. These aren’t losses of important things, like people. But, the accumulative effect of the losses seems to be almost as though it were more important than just mere things.

I’m the kid that collected Nancy Drew books, dusted them daily, and went out to replace any book that had even a scratch or a torn cover. This may appear to be some OCD reaction, but I don’t really think so. 

I was adopted. I didn’t feel much sense of belonging in my family. Long story. Another time. So there was some sense that in this collection, I was building a heritage. They were mine. They were precious. I took good care of them with a deep respect that they might get passed down to my children and grandchildren.

                                                                             

Now, one of those books is missing. I’m not blaming. I’m just saying. I kept my 36 Nancy  Drew books in pristine condition for decades. Now they are not in good condition. They have been boxed, moved, stored in basements, attacked by moisture, people, movers and age.

Then I was given three antique chairs, two ginger jars, and a carved wooden horse, all really valuable and to be treasured. Two of the three chairs are still in good shape, but the third is missing. Somehow in one of our moves it just got left. Again, not blaming, but I think of it. The ginger jars are cracked--again from misuse by others, not me, and the wooden horse got broken. It’s claim to value was that the carving was from a single block of wood. Now it’s in three pieces.

I lost two boxes in the move from California to Illinois, and in those boxes were kitchen things which included a bread knife, a gift from my dad, who died shortly after he gave me the knife. I am sad every time I slice bread.

But, I think it was the losses from the past few months that has gotten to me the  most. Last winter, I was shopping for groceries and when I got home, I went to put my rings and my gold bracelet on my dresser, where I always put them, every time I return home, but this time, no bracelet. This was a 14K solid gold bangle of gold given to me by my bio mom who wanted to give me a token of her love after we had been separated for the  first 28 years of my life. I have worn it for the last 30 some years every single day. I remember right after she gave it to me, I was asked to remove it at the airport because it “dinged” in the metal detector. Taking it off and placing it in an airport tray, I felt like I was losing my mother all over again. But I was able to put it right back on, right after the metal detector area. Not so this winter. It is gone. It probably got knocked off with the handle of a plastic grocery bag, and since it was winter and under my coat sleeve, I didn’t see it happen. I wore this token for three decades. I miss it. It feels like I’ve lost my mother because it was the symbol of our reunion.

And, now, this past snowstorm, where our cars were under two feet of snow in the apartment complex parking lot, someone used a tool to steal my Jaguar cat ornament from my car. I feel some kind of shock. The car has been in this lot for four years. Why now? Yes, it’s only a car. It’s only an ornament. It means little to me. Except, I am beginning to wonder if the girl who dusted off her books every day just isn’t supposed to have treasures on earth.           

                                                          

I mean this is not important, is it? I have friends who are losing husbands, mothers, fathers. These are just things. I keep telling myself this. I know everyone has losses. Everyone has these stories. But, it doesn’t really lessen my sadness.

It doesn’t feel like just things. It feels like I just can’t hold onto things I care about. I am trying to see the lesson. I can pontificate with the best of them. I know the lessons about moth and rust and earth and heaven. The closer I get to heaven, the less I even care about most of my things. I want to get rid of most of this stuff.

I just want my bracelet back. 

It’s not gonna happen. So I just want to stop feeling sad about it.

LOFT LIFE: That sounds like Anita

Funny how some things you think are going to be bad experiences can turn out to be life lessons that improve you.Our great T-Mobile saga, which I have to tell you became a source of great irritation and another big corp, impersonal bureaucracy disappointment, turned out better than expected for a couple of reasons. But, first the saga:We had been T-Mobile customers for more than five years. Thought that might mean something. Wrong.  
When their reps repeatedly made our upcoming upgrade date sound more like bad news, more fees, and not the devices we really wanted, we made a decision. But, we first confirmed, in the store, and over the phone, that our contract expiration date was September, 2012. 

We waited until October, 2012, and spent the extra month researching phones, and companies. We did this in our usual super analytical style. We visited both AT&T and Verizon stores, cornered a knowledgeable salesperson, and asked away at our many questions.

When we found out that Verizon would soon be switching their platform to the one AT&T uses, that made our final decision for us. We didn’t need to go through that transition with them, so opted for the company that had already established that platform.  

Then we had to choose phones. We were excited. We seriously considered the Androids, but after much prayer, thought and comparison, we decided to jump into the new world full bore and get the iPhone 5’s. We were elated, we were giddy. This was a big step for old folks. Now we had better phones than our children--for once. We could now sync with our Macs, our iPads, and we could Face Time, and access the iCloud (once we figured out how to to that), and many other amazing feats of modern America, modern Globe.

We merrily used our new devices, and even whittled down our monthly bill to only double what our T-Mobile one had been. (See changing my reality post).
Then we got the bill from T-Mobile--in November, informing us that we had broken our contract and owed them almost $800. Our elation burst like the proverbial hot air balloon snapping in mid-air and falling to the ground.
We did NOT AGREE that 2013 was the end of our contract. That was big news, and so we went to war. I immediately went in to my heretofore really friendly T-Mobile store and found them less than friendly--almost hostile. They couldn’t access my account, so they said. They suggested I call customer service. I did it right there. It ended badly. They couldn’t help either. They insisted our contract had been extended two years from August, 2011. I insisted I had no knowledge of that. They insisted I had to now work with their contracts department.
My son-in-law suggested eHow’s recommendation of certified letters to the company explaining my dilemma. I certified all my mail to them after that.
                               How to Win a Complaint Dispute With T-Mobile
                                   By Alexander Cequea, eHow Contributor

I also went online to read about T-Mobile contracts department. Amazing how many published letters of complaint were posted that sounded exactly like what I was planning to write.
In my utter frustration, on one of my trips to Costco, I stopped at the customer service desk for an unrelated question and found myself talking to Anita, who was kind, listened, even though she had nothing to do with this, and said, “Why don’t you work with the Attorney General’s office.”

I would have never thought of that. I went home, drafted my letter to the AG, and copied it into my email to T-Mobile’s contracts department.

To shorten the story, I eventually, after another email and two certified letters, received confirmation that, amazingly, yes, I was right, and now if I would please pay the final bill of $211, we could part ways. They credited the other $576.

So I returned to thank Anita, but couldn’t remember her name, and she wasn’t in that day. I told the customer service person there that I wanted to thank the kind person who cared about my problem, even though I did not get my phone at Costco. I said I didn’t remember who it was. After explaining how much she listened and helped, the rep said, “Oh, that sounds like Anita."

You know, that stopped me short. Imagine being the kind of person people can identify just by the description that you listen and are kind and helpful. Not only did she save me almost $600 with her wise suggestion, but she taught me an important life lesson.

I want to be like her. I want to listen better, be kind, be helpful, even when it isn’t my problem.
Thank you again, Anita. Bless you.