Today I was in baggage claim at an airport. Usually I am all business, wanting to get my bag and get out. But today I noticed that I was having trouble watching for my luggage because I was continually distracted by the people around me waiting on their stuff. They were so entertaining!
Some people elbow their way up to the initial spots along the conveyor. Some people take a spot further down the route where there is less congestion. Others stand back, watching, and then dart through the line for a just-in-time bag retreival.
Some people are "informers" who announce to the crowd, "there it is!" and then "here it comes" and then "ah........ got it!" They apprarently think everyone else in the area is gathered to watch them get their luggage. Perhaps they are surprised that there is no applause when they triumphantly carry their bags out.
Others are completely preoccupied with their cell phone conversations and only glance toward the bags occasionally, as though picking up the bag is the least important thing they are doing that day. I used to think there must be some billion dollar deal going on -- but then I heard a guy say 'do we also need milk?'
It's fun to guess which bags belong to which people, especially the unusual bags. Can I spot the person who will retreive the golf clubs or the serious backpacking gear? Which one will grab the purple and pink flowered bag? This time there was a suspicious looking irregularly shaped, very large black thing....... seriously, it looked like it might contain a small lounge chair or perhaps some arcane piece of machinery. The very athletic looking man in a black suit shouldered it easily and strode out the door. Maybe it contained his fitness equipment.
I am in Orlando, so this time around there were an unusual number of small travelers in the area. Many of them were watching intently for their own luggage. Unlike the weary adults, they were SO EXCITED when they spied their familiar bags. Inevitably, it was a pink Barbie bag or a blue Mickey Mouse bag or a red bag with dalmatians on it. And the kids claimed them with such glee!
The slightly older kids had graduated to more somber looking bags and had been conditioned to stare impassively at the parade of luggage. They even imitated their parents' casual approach to pulling the bag from the passing line-up.
I think it's sad that we train all that joy and delight and openness out of our kids. I wonder if the world would be a better place if adults were excited about little things a little more often........ little things like finding your own luggage at baggage claim.
I've always enjoyed people-watching. I"m adding baggage claim to my list of great places to enjoy the antics of my fellow humans.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Choosing a table
Have you ever watched people in a fast food restaurant? Specifically, have you ever watched them choosing where they will sit?
Not long ago I stopped in a fast food restaurant for a quick lunch. It was a place I had never visited before. It was a large building, able to provide food for many people at the same time and very busy.
From the moment I entered, it was clear which people were "regulars" and knew the routine, and which (like me) were newcomers unfamiliar with the procedures. I stood in between the fences that indicated where the line should form and tried to decipher the menu on the wall.
Since this was a FAST food restaurant, I knew that I would need to place my order quickly when the clerk said, "Can I help you?" You see, I understand my responsibility as a customer.
With only a few mis-steps, I placed my order for lunch and then picked up my food at an adjacent counter when they called my number. Again, being careful to not slow down any part of the FAST food delivery system.
That's when my search began. Which table would it be? The intricacies of table-picking are many. Would it be far away from the action and secluded, or would it be close to the food service area? Would it be a table or a booth? Would it be indoors or outdoors? Would it be a small two-person table (barely big enough for my coke, let alone my lunch) or would I be brave enough, crass enough to take a four-person table where there would be room to avoid spills? And on and on.
Finally, I settled on a compromise. I chose a two-person table over against an interior wall, not near the food service, but facing that area so that I could people-watch. And then the fun began.
A woman appeared with her lunch, glancing around, obviously looking for something specific. Her face reported when she found what she sought. She walked over and claimed a table for eight by putting her tray down, then she looked up, ready to signal her co-lunchers. Ah, she was a scout!
Next came a teenage boy who walked straight through without glancing to either side. He headed straight to the outdoor seating area, his spot predetermined by the glorious weather.
Next came a young woman who glanced nervously from side to side. She took a few steps one way, then hesitated, then moved a different direction and faltered. About that time her friend joined her and led the way to a table. Co-dependency in table selection.
A man paused at the threshold of the dining room and then marched purposefully to the far side of the room where he occupied a table for four, spreading his lunch and his papers and books over the entire surface. He was quickly absorbed in his work and totally unaware of anyone else in the place.
From my bastion of safety (an already chosen table), I watched a fascinating parade of diners step up and deal with the challenge of table selection. I wonder at the fact that personalities, insecurities, and personal preferences would be so clearly displayed in such an innocuous decision.
Not long ago I stopped in a fast food restaurant for a quick lunch. It was a place I had never visited before. It was a large building, able to provide food for many people at the same time and very busy.
From the moment I entered, it was clear which people were "regulars" and knew the routine, and which (like me) were newcomers unfamiliar with the procedures. I stood in between the fences that indicated where the line should form and tried to decipher the menu on the wall.
Since this was a FAST food restaurant, I knew that I would need to place my order quickly when the clerk said, "Can I help you?" You see, I understand my responsibility as a customer.
With only a few mis-steps, I placed my order for lunch and then picked up my food at an adjacent counter when they called my number. Again, being careful to not slow down any part of the FAST food delivery system.
That's when my search began. Which table would it be? The intricacies of table-picking are many. Would it be far away from the action and secluded, or would it be close to the food service area? Would it be a table or a booth? Would it be indoors or outdoors? Would it be a small two-person table (barely big enough for my coke, let alone my lunch) or would I be brave enough, crass enough to take a four-person table where there would be room to avoid spills? And on and on.
Finally, I settled on a compromise. I chose a two-person table over against an interior wall, not near the food service, but facing that area so that I could people-watch. And then the fun began.
A woman appeared with her lunch, glancing around, obviously looking for something specific. Her face reported when she found what she sought. She walked over and claimed a table for eight by putting her tray down, then she looked up, ready to signal her co-lunchers. Ah, she was a scout!
Next came a teenage boy who walked straight through without glancing to either side. He headed straight to the outdoor seating area, his spot predetermined by the glorious weather.
Next came a young woman who glanced nervously from side to side. She took a few steps one way, then hesitated, then moved a different direction and faltered. About that time her friend joined her and led the way to a table. Co-dependency in table selection.
A man paused at the threshold of the dining room and then marched purposefully to the far side of the room where he occupied a table for four, spreading his lunch and his papers and books over the entire surface. He was quickly absorbed in his work and totally unaware of anyone else in the place.
From my bastion of safety (an already chosen table), I watched a fascinating parade of diners step up and deal with the challenge of table selection. I wonder at the fact that personalities, insecurities, and personal preferences would be so clearly displayed in such an innocuous decision.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Garbles
One of the things I enjoy doing is listening. I mean, really listening. It's amazing what you hear!
The other day I heard a person say that the options available to us "run the gambit." This was a new manglement to me. Usually, I hear confusion of the phrases 'run the gamut' and 'run the gauntlet' -- which are of course two very different things!
Recently a preacher talked about a joyous person in the Bible, and I swear the preacher said that the person let out a "Whale of hallelujah!" On another Sunday morning a speaker talked about despair and the dismal feeling of absolute disparity. Huh?
The other day I heard a person say that the options available to us "run the gambit." This was a new manglement to me. Usually, I hear confusion of the phrases 'run the gamut' and 'run the gauntlet' -- which are of course two very different things!
Recently a preacher talked about a joyous person in the Bible, and I swear the preacher said that the person let out a "Whale of hallelujah!" On another Sunday morning a speaker talked about despair and the dismal feeling of absolute disparity. Huh?
I also find great amusement in the earth-shaking pronouncements by media. A tv reporter recently observed: "The outcome of the election will depend on who votes." Now, I know what he meant, but on the face of it the statement is a big DUH.
Sports announcers are always good for "really listening." After a long discussion of the various strengths of the two teams and the intricate strategies they would employ, one announcer closed the segment with, "It will all come down to who can score the most points." Well ............ yeah.
In today's world of information overload and constant communication, it has become a hobby of mine to listen closely. So if you see me chuckle when no one told a joke, or if you see me smile inexplicably, now you will know why.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Voting dance
Today I voted.
I left the house early and drove to a nearby middle school. Because I had decided to vote on my way to work, I found myself caught in the morning school traffic. I competed with parents of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders for access to the area near the gym. They wanted to drop off their kids; I wanted to park and vote.
A line had formed inside the door. When I entered, I couldn't tell which person was the end of the line so I asked, not wanting to make a wrong assumption. All Americans know the importance of lines and not violating the queue.
Our family has traveled just enough to know that other cultures do not have the "line" tradition. It's not that the other cultures are rude -- they simply haven't adopted that particular idea of ordering themselves one behind the other.
I mused on the intricacies of lining up as I waited in the gym. Each person must stand just the right distance from the person ahead -- not too close (we like our space!) but not too far because that would damage the integrity of the line.
As new people entered the door, most asked -- as I had -- for clarification on the end of the line. Because the line wasn't moving very fast and the number of prospective voters was increasing rapidly, the line-standers had to move in such a way to curl the line away from the door and back into the interior of the area. This was important because it was very cold outside, and the line-standers were being considerate of new arrivals. Thoughtfulness. Group cooperativeness. An interesting unspoken "dance" among strangers.
Periodically, people who had completed voting returned from the interior, approaching the door area. Without a word, people parted the line to allow the voters to exit. Again, it was a procedure of silent assent. Everyone seemed to know just how to move to allow passage without damaging the line in any way. Simultaneously, three people stepped forward and three other people stepped back, creating a gap for the leaver. In some ways it resembled a waltz.
It was actually a beautiful collaborative effort. And the voting was cool too. All of us coming together, with our different perspectives, with our varying opinions -- but all of us participating in this shared dance to select our leaders. Leaving space for each other. Helping each other find the right spot in the line. Respecting each other's position. Taking turns.
I left the house early and drove to a nearby middle school. Because I had decided to vote on my way to work, I found myself caught in the morning school traffic. I competed with parents of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders for access to the area near the gym. They wanted to drop off their kids; I wanted to park and vote.
A line had formed inside the door. When I entered, I couldn't tell which person was the end of the line so I asked, not wanting to make a wrong assumption. All Americans know the importance of lines and not violating the queue.
Our family has traveled just enough to know that other cultures do not have the "line" tradition. It's not that the other cultures are rude -- they simply haven't adopted that particular idea of ordering themselves one behind the other.
I mused on the intricacies of lining up as I waited in the gym. Each person must stand just the right distance from the person ahead -- not too close (we like our space!) but not too far because that would damage the integrity of the line.
As new people entered the door, most asked -- as I had -- for clarification on the end of the line. Because the line wasn't moving very fast and the number of prospective voters was increasing rapidly, the line-standers had to move in such a way to curl the line away from the door and back into the interior of the area. This was important because it was very cold outside, and the line-standers were being considerate of new arrivals. Thoughtfulness. Group cooperativeness. An interesting unspoken "dance" among strangers.
Periodically, people who had completed voting returned from the interior, approaching the door area. Without a word, people parted the line to allow the voters to exit. Again, it was a procedure of silent assent. Everyone seemed to know just how to move to allow passage without damaging the line in any way. Simultaneously, three people stepped forward and three other people stepped back, creating a gap for the leaver. In some ways it resembled a waltz.
It was actually a beautiful collaborative effort. And the voting was cool too. All of us coming together, with our different perspectives, with our varying opinions -- but all of us participating in this shared dance to select our leaders. Leaving space for each other. Helping each other find the right spot in the line. Respecting each other's position. Taking turns.
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