Category: My Story

Be Nice

Lately, I’ve noticed that when I call customer service—whether about insurance claims, to straighten out a bill, or ask for assistance with my new cell phone—the representative often sounds harried when they pick up the phone. I’ve no doubt that, in this culture of impatience and nastiness, they get a lot of people who are angry or who don’t know how to communicate, so resort to anger. By the time I reach this human being, after going through the company’s phone tree and finding numerous dead-ends, I’m often angry too.

I have to remind myself that it’s not the fault of the service person and that they are probably just as stressed as I am by being the last resort for customers frustrated at having a hard time finding someone to help them. So I try my best to be civil, even nice, thanking them for helping me and exchanging pleasantries (how’s the weather there?). Gradually I can hear the rep’s voice change, become softer and more relaxed. By the time we conclude our transaction, we’re both wishing each other a nice day.

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Fear of Falling

I recently did a steep hike in snow that was deeper than I expected. I should have worn snowshoes instead of the snow cleats that weren’t quite enough to keep me from slipping where the incline was too sharp. I had hiked this trail—in all seasons—dozens of times before, yet I suddenly felt anxious, as if one wrong step and I would fall, possibly hurt myself or tumble down the slope.

I wasn’t in grave danger—the trees below would have stopped me from going too far. My fear, I think, came more from feeling that I could easily lose control. Last summer I took a rough tumble from an e-bike—my first attempt at riding an electric bike. I had some nasty bruising but nothing serious. What was scarier was that I couldn’t control the bike or my fall into a ditch.

Maybe I’m not as strong as I think I am or want to believe I am. It’s difficult to accept, because I’ve spent my whole life being physically active—bicycling, swimming, walking, snowshoeing and both downhill and cross-country skiing. For the most part I was confident in my body, except for those times when I accidentally landed on a black- diamond ski run and had to gingerly make my way down the steep slope.

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Let’s Talk

Apparently, talking on the phone has become a thing of the past. Young people won’t pick up the phone anymore and consider phone callers rude, according to an article I read recently. Much better to text, because you can formulate your thoughts without being put on the spot. One woman said one friendship consisted only of texting, and she was happy with that. I had to wonder what would happen if she and her friend met face to face. Would one say something the other didn’t like? Would they be uncomfortable? Or would they just sit side by side and text?

That’s what I saw two young men doing at a restaurant recently. This is a common phenomenon now, but it still puzzles me. If I meet a friend for coffee or a meal, we’re often the only ones talking; everyone else (that is, younger than us) is staring at their computers or phones. Way back when I was young, it would be akin to people meeting for dinner and each one reading a different book. It would have been considered rude if not strange. Isn’t the point of getting together to share stories, talk about our lives?

I was with a group of friends, all of us in our 70s, and we were complaining to each other about how fast technology changes, how we don’t understand it and how frustrating that can be. Our conversation was lively and humorous, flowing from one topic to another. I can’t imagine how it could have been reduced to texting. I guess we would have been using the LOL phrase a lot (or is that passe? Let me know) or the laugh emoji. But laughing—in person—can be infectious and, from what I read, good for your mental and physical health.

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