#different generation

[im-really-confused121]

My mums are feminists of a different generation.

And generally that makes no difference, as our fundamentals are usually the same or very similar

But unfortunately;;;

It does mean that we’re probably live in different socialist communes. Which is sad :(

[solesurvivorkat]

My ‘Secret Hobby’

Trying to explain a video game (Fallout 76, for example) to someone who you can tell does not regularly play:

[ros-sha16]

This is an old ad. Definitely not an ad for this generation. This ad is for Quaker cereal and its "new" diet frosted cereal. This targets a specific audience, majority women at that time as many where trying to get on diets and lose weight. This peaked women's focus as it has a women on the ad and saying she can't believe it! Meaning she loves it and it has no sugar in it so she will not gain any weight/lose weight.

[tltate]

Going to Visit My Dad

Today, I will be getting on the road to drive to Texas. I have not seen my Dad since 2019. That is too long. My dad is getting up in age. Also, my sister tells me he has some dementia happening. Also, he has seemed somewhat sad the last several times I’ve talked to him on the phone. He says he misses his wife (my mom). She passed in 2013, a little over a month before her 72nd birthday. I miss her…

View On WordPress

[tumblinbean]

Tipping and surveys, a cranky rant

*drags a lawn chair across the porch* *sits down and draws sweater against the light chill* *sips tea*

Well hello young’uns, welcome to my lawn. Today, I’ll be ranting about tipping.

Now I know y’all are aware of tipping. You’ve tipped. Or not. You understand the human receiving the tip is making minimum wage, or in that country south of us, less than minimum. So you tip. But it’s changed. CHANGED, I tell you. Indulge me for a moment and I’ll tell you about tipping in my day.

Back when I was a mere young’un like yourselves, I would tip based on a scale. The same scale my parents taught me. What is that scale? Glad you asked.

When a server took my order, brought me beverages, brought me food, asked if I needed anything, watched my coffee cup to ensure it was never empty or cold, offered a doggy bag, smiled, and was pleasant, this would garner a tip of, oh, let’s say 15%. Why? The server did the job a bit better than expected. I never had to ask for coffee, my food was prompt and hot, the server’s demeanor was pleasant, and we weren’t rushed to eat or leave. So a 15% tip meant ‘above average performance’.

Average performance is all that above, but with a less pleasant attitude. Banging plates down, huffing in irritation at having to fill my coffee cup, and the sharp exhale when someone at the table just can’t make up their mind. I get it. Serving is hard and at the end of a long shift it’s more difficult to be pleasant. Basic service, no frills but no negatives, would garner a tip of 12%.

If the server took my order and I saw my food sitting under a hot lamp for ten minutes while the server flirted with the cook, the tip would be closer to 10%. The server still performed the duties, but poorly. This size tip was also in the event of cold coffee, asking for more water, reminding the server to please bring syrup, and general bad attitude.

If, however, the server absolutely excelled somehow, the tip would be in the 20% range. Excellent service includes the server making my table feel like the only table in the restaurant, or the most important one. Everything appears as if by magic (when in fact it’s the hard working staff remaining unobtrusive) and is refreshed before I could raise a glass. This level of tip also includes when the server has kept a respectful distance while the table argued or discussed something of import and didn’t wish to be interrupted.

Now I know some of you have your hackles up. I get it. Your world is different.

Basic tip, or basic service with no frills, now garners a larger percentage, and I haven’t heard of someone giving less tip because of performance. “The server expects the tip,” I’ve been told, “the server needs to make enough money to live.”

While that last statement is true, it’s not my responsibility as the consumer to ensure the company is paying the employees a proper wage.

Let’s move on. Tips are also shared throughout the restaurant. I have no idea if this was true Back In My Day or not, but I never considered the remainder of the employees when tipping. Why? Because it’s the server’s job to deal with the customer directly, and that includes weathering any complaints from the table. Their job also includes ‘reading’ the table and knowing how to act around the customers. Are they happy? Be happy too! Are they private? Try to be invisible! This is remarkably difficult.

The rest of the restaurant, the buspeople, cooks, and dishwashers, all have a job with reasonably specific duties. They aren’t in the front lines with customers. My assumption was that the company paid these employees in the same manner I was paid as an office clerk: hourly wages. Yes, the server has hourly wages as well, but they are performing a service to the customer, while the other employees are performing a job.

To be clear, ‘service’ is anything your servants would have done in the Way Back Times. Cleaning up after you, bringing your food, driving you places, and even dressing you/doing your hair and makeup. They are serving you. They receive a tip. Hourly wages do not receive a tip, IMO.

But I can adjust, I assure you. I haven’t made it to this crotchety age without some adjustment. I continue to tip, and give a larger percentage so the remainder of the staff get a decent cut. Honestly I’d rather just abolish tipping altogether, but I’m not in a position of power to make that happen.

In line with tipping is surveys. Twice in the last week I’ve gone to a business and was told to please fill out the online survey. “Give me a 10 our of 10,” the person said, “and say you’ll come again.” Oh? Really?

Now, in addition to increasing the baseline of tipping, I’m being told to give someone a perfect score regardless of their performance. Now I know, their performance was quite adequate. Even good or great. But a perfect score means excellence, not adequacy, to my aging brain.

For the record, surveys worked differently in my day. In a ten star system, five stars was average. Perfectly average. No problems, no exceptional service. Anything less than five stars meant there was something lacking in the experience. Anything more and that meant there was something exceptional about everything. But now I’m told I need to start at a perfect score and deduct if necessary. In my head, this means there’s no room for excellence, no room to say, “this was remarkable and wonderful, far above expectations”.

Maybe I’ve misunderstood things. Perhaps I’ve misread how all this works with a different generation. But dammit young people, you don’t get a perfect score or fat tip for average performance.

Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got other things to shake my fist at. Good day y’all.

[ennes]

The Abundant Life of Hatie McCoy

Going through old drafts and found this. I heard it randomly flipping stations on the radio forever ago. I was so impressed at the time, I looked up a transcript of it online. Even if I tried, I could never match all the things this lady did in her lifetime, and, yet, it would barely be appreciated by most today…

“Hatie’s story is a departure from those you see here. She entered heaven decades ago. Grandma Hatie was an intriguing lady. She and Grandpa lived with us during his illness, and she lived with us much of her widowed life, which was probably 30 years. During the years I knew her, I listened to stories about her life in rural Kentucky, her thoughts on the Hatfields, her suiters, as she called them, and how she taught herself Algebra and Geometry. We never really talked of her widowhood. I was a young mother when she died, and probably consumed with parenting my little brood rather than considering how her life changed when she lost Grandpa.

Her greatest gift for me (and the rest of us) was not discovered until after her death at age 97. She left a sturdy suitcase packed with a few cotton dresses and talcum powder. These words were crowded efficiently onto three small sheets of paper.

‘The Abundant Life of Hatie McCoy

Some things I have done and helped to do All kinds of farm work, including plowing, hoeing, ditching, grubbing, mowing, binding, and cutting grain by hand; stacking wheat, oats, and hay; threshing by hand with a flail made of hickory bushes, breaking and training young horses and mules, feeding and taking care of farm animals, blacksmithing and shoeing horses and mules’ clearing new ground and burning off same, sawing down trees and helping split them into rails, posts, boards, and shingles, making spokes and ax handles, hauling rails and building miles of rail, and other kinds of fences including stone fence; digging post holes, making gates, bars, doors, swing, splitting, and hauling wood; making barrels, wagons and wagon beds; building dry kilns of stone, and drying pears, apples, and peaches on same; laying foundations, erecting and moving buildings; painting, digging cellars, carpentering, making maple sugar and syrup, also sorghum, stripping, cutting, and hauling the cane to the mill. Taking wool to the carder and spinning the rolls into yarn, weaving, filling quills and shuttles, winding and reeling the yarn into hanks and skeins; cutting carpet rags and helping to warp and put the carpet chain through the sleys’ braiding and knitting rugs, stockings, socks, and mittens; crocheting, embroidering, tailoring, knitting lace, and doing all kinds of sewing including millinery; mending shoes. Taking wheat and corn to mill on horseback, making soap and lye hominy, butchering, rendering lard, curing and canning meat and making sausage, smoking the mat after curing, with hickory chips and corncobs, Grafting and setting out trees, general orchard work, making cider and vinegar, apple and peach butter, jams, preserves canning, making jellies, all kinds of pickles, relishes, sauces;gathered wild fruits, berries, ginseng, wintergreen, yellow root, and herbs. Raising poultry;beekeeping, assistant P.M. clerk in a department store, housework, nursing the sick and washing and dressing the dead. Hunted and trapped wild animals and game birds. Gathered nuts, walnuts, hazelnuts, butternuts, chestnuts, chinquapins, hickory nuts, and beechnuts. Market gardened and taken many ribbons and prizes at “fairs” and “farmer’s institutes’ on fresh and canned fruits and vegetables, pickles, jams, butters, and relishes. Made comforts, pieced and quilted quilts, picked ducks and geese and made a featherbed and eight pillows. I have cooked with hot coals on the hearthstone with skillet and lid, on woodstove, coals stove, gas and electricity. Made and studied by the light of tallow candles, oil lamps, and electric lights. Rode on horses, mules, and steers;in sleds, wagons, buggies, carts, sleights, carriages, buses, street cars, trackless trolleys, autos, areo trolley cars and railroad trains (locals, freights, and passenger) drawn by coal, oil, and diesel engines; in rowboats, a ship on Lake Michigan and an ocean liner on the Atlantic.’”

[tiredofitall-23]

Story time!!!!

So on Sunday I went to church and I have red orange hair now and this old lady was just glaring out me and no one had talked to me for like the whole time so I took out my phone and started playing on it and I had one earphone out and 5 minutes later I look up and she's still glaring at me so I give a polite smile and look back down at my phone because she clearly isn't bothering me and she turns to her husband and says "these kids and there colored hair and cellphones. They are going to go bald by 25 and all they ever do is click click with their fingers i swear they need technology to survive ." I'm not sure she thought I could hear her but she was saying it loud enough and I lift my head up and she kind of looks at me like "0.0......" and I smile and do a hair flip stand up and walk away. Smh I don't think old people understand that I wasn't born in the same generation as them and I really wish they could get that through their thick stubborn sculls cause without that little heart monitor her husband was wearing I don't think he'd be here to hear her rude remarks on a harmless teenager.