Best wishes to you all for 2018! If you search for the good this year, you'll find it.
Click here to see more from this series.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Peace by Piece--D&C 88:63
Best wishes to you all for 2018! If you search for the good this year, you'll find it.
Click here to see more from this series.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
A Morning Routine for Normal People
With the new year fast approaching, many people are examining their lives and making resolutions to improve themselves.
If you're like me, your goals likely involve making better use of your mornings. With titles like "5 Things Super Successful People Do Before 8 AM," self-help articles abound in ways to supercharge your day. They generally sound something like this:
But freezing showers? 5:00 AM? Not my thing. I wouldn't be surprised if they're not yours, either.
For those of us who don't find paradigm shifts or thought leadership particularly exciting, I propose a different morning routine--one that doesn't require a certain amount of protein in your breakfast or an eagerness to die.
And it's incredibly simple:
Just get ready for your day . . . but also give yourself time to do at least one thing you love.
Love to read? Make time for a good book before you head to work.
Have a garden? Breathe some fresh air and enjoy your flowers in the morning.
Play an instrument? You may want to check with your roommates, but start your day with a song or two.
And if your ideal morning still involves a treadmill or a frozen bath, those are great ideas, too. The whole idea is to start your day the best way possible--for you.
As for me, I set aside some writing time each morning, and I can tell the difference when I miss it. I love going to work knowing I've already gotten to express myself creatively, and my customers and my company benefit from that positive energy, too.
The bottom line is, take care of yourself. Make your health--physical and mental--a priority. We all define success in different ways. But good things follow happiness.
Here's to a happy and successful new year, friends. I can't wait to see what you do with it!
If you're like me, your goals likely involve making better use of your mornings. With titles like "5 Things Super Successful People Do Before 8 AM," self-help articles abound in ways to supercharge your day. They generally sound something like this:
- Get up at 5:00 AM. Schedule time to sleep when you're dead.
- Listen to an audiobook while doing yoga. On the treadmill.
- Bathe in ice water. Visualize all the unsuccessful peasants you'll step on today.
- Eat a protein-rich breakfast of condor eggs and avocado toast.
- Write in a journal. Use terms like paradigm shift and thought leader.
But freezing showers? 5:00 AM? Not my thing. I wouldn't be surprised if they're not yours, either.
 |
| Image credit: Giphy |
For those of us who don't find paradigm shifts or thought leadership particularly exciting, I propose a different morning routine--one that doesn't require a certain amount of protein in your breakfast or an eagerness to die.
And it's incredibly simple:
Just get ready for your day . . . but also give yourself time to do at least one thing you love.
Love to read? Make time for a good book before you head to work.
Have a garden? Breathe some fresh air and enjoy your flowers in the morning.
Play an instrument? You may want to check with your roommates, but start your day with a song or two.
And if your ideal morning still involves a treadmill or a frozen bath, those are great ideas, too. The whole idea is to start your day the best way possible--for you.
 |
| Image credit: Giphy |
As for me, I set aside some writing time each morning, and I can tell the difference when I miss it. I love going to work knowing I've already gotten to express myself creatively, and my customers and my company benefit from that positive energy, too.
The bottom line is, take care of yourself. Make your health--physical and mental--a priority. We all define success in different ways. But good things follow happiness.
Here's to a happy and successful new year, friends. I can't wait to see what you do with it!
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Peace by Piece--Ether 12:4
Why a lawnmower and someone painting a fence?
It's the reason why I love this verse.
Obviously there's the promise of a better world to come in the next life. But I especially love this verse because it could also be interpreted to promise a better world in this life--here and now.
It's not a magic button that will suddenly make everyone hold hands and sing kumbaya. This world will have its problems all the way to the end.
But faith, as a principle of action, drives us to do what we each can do, in our own small spheres of influence, to make this world a better place.
And so, with faith, we can enjoy a better world--right now, and into the eternities.
Merry Christmas, friends. I'm grateful for the coming of Christ, who gives me the hope and strength I need to do my part in building a better world.
Click here to see more from this series.
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Warped Plastic #14--Merry Christmas!
If there's one pet peeve I have about this time of year, it's the controversy over which holiday greeting to use. Every time I see one of those silly social media posts that say "It's Merry Christmas, not Happy Holidays," I think, why can't it be both?
To all my readers, I hope you're having a wonderful holiday season filled with good times and good company. Merry Christmas!
Click to see Warped Plastic #13 and #15.
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Because Bad Things Happen
Why does God let bad things happen to good people?
Turn on the news and you get a stream of murders, thefts, assaults, and kidnappings; house fires, landslides, storms, and floods; car accidents, injustice, corruption, and disease.
And good luck escaping through entertainment. Open almost any book or go to the movies, and you get the same load piled on, because this is what we know.
I can hardly stomach it anymore.
In my younger days I didn't think too much about the darkness that surrounded me just for being in this world. But now--especially as a parent of young children--I see what happens in the news and popular entertainment and can't help but hurt.
I see the victims of violence and other crimes and think of my own children, so innocent, so sweet and loving and bright and good--too good for the world they will inherit.
I want to protect them. I want to hold them close and tell them it will all be okay. I want to keep all the bad parts of the world away from them.
And because I've learned to see through the tender eyes of a concerned parent, and have practiced seeing through others' eyes studying the humanities in college, my heart breaks every time the bad parts of the world hurt someone else, too.
The victim of that mugging? He was just trying to get home from work, where he toiled all day to make sure his family had something to eat.
The victim of that carjacking? A single mother on her way to school.
The victim of trafficking? Only a child, torn from his family and everything he knows, obsessed with trucks and trains and Sesame Street, now crying and abused and far away from home because his sale could make some money.
The accidental victim of that drive-by shooting? She wasn't in a gang. She didn't know anyone in a gang. And she had plans she'd worked so hard for, friends who cared about her, talents and potential that would go with her into the ground because she walked down the wrong street.
Suicides. Hurricanes. Bullying. War.
Everyone in these stories is a human being, with a life and talents and experiences and relationships as rich and detailed as my own. Somebody loves them. Somebody depends on them.
And it's gotten so, so heavy.
Maybe I've gone soft, but even some of the scripture stories I grew up with trouble me these days. Recently I re-read the account of Alma and Amulek, a pair of ancient missionaries in the Book of Mormon, and their experience as they taught the word of God in a city called Ammonihah.
Few people listened to these missionaries. In fact, things were so bad in this city that the people took all those who believed and burned them to death--forcing Alma and Amulek to watch.
I've never liked that story, but it had never affected me too much. Now, though, I could hardly handle reading it. I related so strongly to Amulek, who, when he "saw the pains of the women and children who were consuming in the fire, he also was pained; and he said unto Alma: How can we witness this awful scene?" (Alma 14:10).
I ask again: why does God let bad things happen to good people?
The question is worth discussing. But even though I believe I have some of the answers, that's not the point I want to make today.
My point is this: Recently I've realized more and more that that question, as valid as it may be, is incomplete. It only considers this life, in this world.
Concerning the victims of the flames, Alma answers Amulek, "the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory" (Alma 14:11).
Another Book of Mormon character, Ether--who saw some terrible things in his own time, including the complete extermination of his people--writes, "whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world" (Ether 12:4).
We can ask why bad things happen all we want. And maybe we'd be right.
But I choose to believe in God, and to trust Him, because bad things happen.
In a world where every day we run the risk of meeting gun-wielding psychopaths at school, work, dinner, the movie theater, the library, the mall, and even at church, one thing keeps me from locking myself into my house and never coming out again:
The promise of a better world.
Someday, these terrible things won't happen anymore. There will be no more war, no more hate, no more theft, no more death, no more pain--no more of the darkness I feel constantly pressing in. Even minor inconveniences like traffic jams will be a thing of the past.
In the eternal picture, the heartaches and injustices of this world really only last one fleeting moment. And, according to my belief system, pretty much everybody will get to enjoy a better world than this one when we're done here.
We'll all make it there. Someday, we will all be happy, safe, and whole.
The hope that idea gives me is exactly what keeps me from living in constant fear. It's what inspires me to go help customers at work, to go out and make fun memories with my family, to see the good in the world and live joyfully and fully and contribute everything I can to make this world a better place as long as I'm here.
That hope is what I celebrate at Christmas.
Because of the baby born in Bethlehem, a light shines through the darkness. Because that little Jesus grew to take upon himself the pains and sins of everyone, we can all enjoy the hope He brought the world that starry night in the manger.
 |
| Image credit: Simon Dewey |
Every loss, every challenge, every hurt will be made up to us. From the smallest inconveniences to the deepest sorrows and most harrowing nightmares, everything will be made right.
In the meantime, when the world feels like it's caving in around me, I choose to hold on to that promise.
I choose to let God lead me through the dark.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Friday, December 15, 2017
When Blessings Don't Look Like Blessings
It turns out the Murphy of Murphy's Law was a real person. Which is good, because in the next life I'm gonna have some questions for him.
I have one day a week when I can reasonably run errands and do projects. So, on my day off this week, my wife and I made ambitious plans to finish all our Christmas shopping, go to the library, and pick up some milk.
And, lucky us, we just happened to find some cash in our basement. A Christmas miracle!
Enter Murphy.
It was bad enough we still couldn't find any gifts in our price range for the people on our list. But then, on our way out of a parking lot to try the next store . . . our car died.
As in, "call a tow truck" dead.
I didn't say anything for a moment as my blood pressure rose. I may have steamed more than the car did. On my one day off, I thought. I don't have the time or the money for this!
I called my favorite towing company. Because this has happened enough that I have a favorite towing company (but we can't buy a new car yet because we keep spending our money to just be able to drive our current one--a terrible cycle).
Their soonest available truck was at least two hours out. And it was cold, and I was mad, and my mechanic wouldn't be open in two hours.
I took a moment to breathe. Then I used my handy-dandy smartphone to google other towing companies and got a truck out with just enough time for my mother-in-law to take my wife and kids home.
The repairs ended up using all that cash we found in our basement.
And there went my day off, too.
I don't write this to complain. I don't want pity. I don't want money. An extra day off might be nice, but you can't give me that.
I only bring this up to point out that, more often than we realize, blessings don't really look like blessings.
And our family car breaking down when it did truly was a blessing.
The next day, my wife had planned to visit her sister in a town thirty miles away. While I don't doubt she would have been capable of handling the problem, I'm glad it happened close to home and at a time when I could be there.
The tow company that came to our aid ended up being more affordable than the company we normally use.
And that money we just happened to find that morning? That definitely looked like a blessing at the start; we just didn't realize what kind. We were meant to use it for our car repairs so we wouldn't completely break the bank.
Sometimes we think of miracles as these grand, once- or twice-in-a-lifetime moments when the heavens open up and God's voice thunders from the clouds. A cancer patient is miraculously cured. A baby, born blue in the face, miraculously breathes. A boulder miraculously misses a car on a mountain road.
And those are miracles.
But we can easily forget that small miracles surround us every single day. Some may be obvious blessings: arriving to work on time despite heavy traffic; a presentation turning out much better than expected; a friend sending a much-needed text.
Other blessings may come disguised--but they're miracles, too. Like the time I missed my bus to school . . . but discovered the train was not only more comfortable, but also faster. Or the time I failed a class and had to delay my graduation . . . but gained skills and friends I couldn't leave college without.
Or the time my car died on my day off . . . but I had the time and money to take care of it.
When life gets heavy, pause and take a look around. The miracles will surprise you.
I have one day a week when I can reasonably run errands and do projects. So, on my day off this week, my wife and I made ambitious plans to finish all our Christmas shopping, go to the library, and pick up some milk.
And, lucky us, we just happened to find some cash in our basement. A Christmas miracle!
Enter Murphy.
It was bad enough we still couldn't find any gifts in our price range for the people on our list. But then, on our way out of a parking lot to try the next store . . . our car died.
As in, "call a tow truck" dead.
 |
| Don't let the cute toys fool you. This ain't fun. Image credit: Dickie Toys |
I didn't say anything for a moment as my blood pressure rose. I may have steamed more than the car did. On my one day off, I thought. I don't have the time or the money for this!
I called my favorite towing company. Because this has happened enough that I have a favorite towing company (but we can't buy a new car yet because we keep spending our money to just be able to drive our current one--a terrible cycle).
Their soonest available truck was at least two hours out. And it was cold, and I was mad, and my mechanic wouldn't be open in two hours.
I took a moment to breathe. Then I used my handy-dandy smartphone to google other towing companies and got a truck out with just enough time for my mother-in-law to take my wife and kids home.
The repairs ended up using all that cash we found in our basement.
And there went my day off, too.
 |
| Image credit: Giphy |
I don't write this to complain. I don't want pity. I don't want money. An extra day off might be nice, but you can't give me that.
I only bring this up to point out that, more often than we realize, blessings don't really look like blessings.
And our family car breaking down when it did truly was a blessing.
The next day, my wife had planned to visit her sister in a town thirty miles away. While I don't doubt she would have been capable of handling the problem, I'm glad it happened close to home and at a time when I could be there.
The tow company that came to our aid ended up being more affordable than the company we normally use.
And that money we just happened to find that morning? That definitely looked like a blessing at the start; we just didn't realize what kind. We were meant to use it for our car repairs so we wouldn't completely break the bank.
 |
| Image credit: Giphy |
Sometimes we think of miracles as these grand, once- or twice-in-a-lifetime moments when the heavens open up and God's voice thunders from the clouds. A cancer patient is miraculously cured. A baby, born blue in the face, miraculously breathes. A boulder miraculously misses a car on a mountain road.
And those are miracles.
But we can easily forget that small miracles surround us every single day. Some may be obvious blessings: arriving to work on time despite heavy traffic; a presentation turning out much better than expected; a friend sending a much-needed text.
Other blessings may come disguised--but they're miracles, too. Like the time I missed my bus to school . . . but discovered the train was not only more comfortable, but also faster. Or the time I failed a class and had to delay my graduation . . . but gained skills and friends I couldn't leave college without.
Or the time my car died on my day off . . . but I had the time and money to take care of it.
When life gets heavy, pause and take a look around. The miracles will surprise you.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Sunday, December 10, 2017
Peace by Piece--Jeremiah 1:5
Every year at Christmastime I consider what I can give the Christ child. After all, why shouldn't He get presents at His own birthday celebration?
Some years my gifts to Him have included working on my patience, trying to pray more sincerely, and paying more attention during family scripture study.
This year I've chosen to give Baby Jesus my talents.
While this isn't my first foray into illustrating scriptures with Lego, I wanted to take what I've learned from making my webcomic and create simple, shareable images with uplifting messages (as I am LDS, these scripture messages would come not only from the Bible, but also from the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, the Pearl of Great Price, and the teachings of modern-day prophets). I believe pairing these words with Lego can inspire new ways of thinking about them, and as much as I look forward to having an easy and unique way to share something that means so much to me, I hope my pictures can help lift other people up, too.
New installments to this "Peace by Piece" series will be published every Sunday. I've chosen one of my favorite scripture verses to start with--Jeremiah 1:5. It has always brought me so much comfort to know that God knows and loves me personally, and I feel closer to Him every time I read this little reminder.
I hope all of you are happy and well, and enjoying this wonderful holiday season!
Click here to see more from this series.
Friday, December 8, 2017
Let's Talk About Nostalgia
Elementary school nearly scared me away from college.
A presenter visited my fifth-grade class one day to teach us how to perform research at a library. She used terms like Dewey Decimal System, demonstrated how to use a card catalog, and promised us that when we got to college--even high school, depending on the class--we would spend endless nights with our noses crammed in books.
I imagined myself then reading through thick volumes to find one quote to use in the lengthy papers I was also promised I would have to write.
It took me probably a month to get through Harry Potter. Library research? Not. For. Me.
Thankfully by middle school, Google had arrived to save the day (and my future education). I never did have to sort through a card catalog like some barbarian, and with every click of the mouse I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn't stuck in the library. The world changed--and it changed in my favor.
(Looking back, I have to appreciate the irony that I became an English major and ended up spending countless nights with my nose crammed in a book anyway. But I digress.)
A lot of things are so much easier now thanks to technology: research, communication, finding directions to that new Indian restaurant. With a tap on a screen, I can read the news, schedule a colonoscopy, and wish a friend a happy birthday.
When you sit back and think about it, the level of sorcery we've attained is truly amazing. In the old days, we would have all been burned as witches. We're truly blessed.
But I also can't help but wonder if we've lost something. And by we, I mostly mean I--but maybe you can relate.
I've always been prone to nostalgia. Sometimes I drive certain roads just because I used to go there with my friends. I consider the Super Nintendo the pinnacle of gaming. I've loaded my Bricklink wishlist with Lego sets from the 80's and 90's.
And if the multitude of 90's nostalgia pages I've followed on Facebook is any indication, I'm not the only one. Even Wendy's got in on the action with a recent ad campaign:
Nostalgia serves a valuable purpose. J.M. Barrie said, "God gave us memories that we might have roses in December."
Whatever age one grew up in, who doesn't, on occasion, look back with a smile on what appears to have been a simpler time?
I miss late-night summer drives, letting the cool air blow in from the open window and feeling no responsibility for anyone but myself.
I miss Saturday mornings playing Donkey Kong Country in my friend's basement, on a boxy television that hummed when you turned it on.
I miss the charming, light-hearted aesthetic of 90's Lego catalogs, whose colorful backgrounds and smiling characters transported me to a happier world.
I can't help but smile when I think of all those things. But to entertain thoughts of the past requires balance--a delicate walk between living in the past and learning from it. And I have to recognize that the past, as beautiful as it was, isn't necessarily better than the life I have now.
The Lego sets from my childhood continue to fill me with wonder, and they feel positively different from what the company produces today. Different--not better. What I wouldn't have given to have a set like the massive Ninjago City when I was a kid!
And while a hallmark of the Super Nintendo is how its games have stood the test of time, I know my seven-year-old eyes would have gone wide with amazement at, say, Mario Kart 8.
And yeah, I have a lot more responsibility now than I did as a teenager. But I'm also married to my best friend, and we have three children who I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. They light up my whole life.
Whenever I start thinking about "the good ol' days," I try to steer those thoughts toward an internal discussion of what lessons I can use from them.
If I long for a simpler time, maybe I should make this time simpler.
If my happy memories are about people, maybe I should leave my phone in a back room while I spend quality time with my family.
Maybe I can use the Internet to access the vast stores of human knowledge instead of arguing with strangers over politics.
Maybe I can go outside a little more, or read more books, or build my own happy Lego town.
Someday I'll look back on this time of my life the same way I look back on my childhood. Right now, I get to choose what that future me will see.
Thomas S. Monson has said, "The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it." By learning from the past and truly appreciating the present, I can make memories the future me will treasure.
These are the moments I will someday get nostalgic for.
A presenter visited my fifth-grade class one day to teach us how to perform research at a library. She used terms like Dewey Decimal System, demonstrated how to use a card catalog, and promised us that when we got to college--even high school, depending on the class--we would spend endless nights with our noses crammed in books.
I imagined myself then reading through thick volumes to find one quote to use in the lengthy papers I was also promised I would have to write.
It took me probably a month to get through Harry Potter. Library research? Not. For. Me.
 |
| There's a reason N and O are next to each other in the alphabet. Image credit: Your Dictionary |
Thankfully by middle school, Google had arrived to save the day (and my future education). I never did have to sort through a card catalog like some barbarian, and with every click of the mouse I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn't stuck in the library. The world changed--and it changed in my favor.
(Looking back, I have to appreciate the irony that I became an English major and ended up spending countless nights with my nose crammed in a book anyway. But I digress.)
A lot of things are so much easier now thanks to technology: research, communication, finding directions to that new Indian restaurant. With a tap on a screen, I can read the news, schedule a colonoscopy, and wish a friend a happy birthday.
When you sit back and think about it, the level of sorcery we've attained is truly amazing. In the old days, we would have all been burned as witches. We're truly blessed.
 |
| "It was only a Snapchat filter!" Image credit: Wikimedia Commons |
But I also can't help but wonder if we've lost something. And by we, I mostly mean I--but maybe you can relate.
I've always been prone to nostalgia. Sometimes I drive certain roads just because I used to go there with my friends. I consider the Super Nintendo the pinnacle of gaming. I've loaded my Bricklink wishlist with Lego sets from the 80's and 90's.
And if the multitude of 90's nostalgia pages I've followed on Facebook is any indication, I'm not the only one. Even Wendy's got in on the action with a recent ad campaign:
Nostalgia serves a valuable purpose. J.M. Barrie said, "God gave us memories that we might have roses in December."
Whatever age one grew up in, who doesn't, on occasion, look back with a smile on what appears to have been a simpler time?
I miss late-night summer drives, letting the cool air blow in from the open window and feeling no responsibility for anyone but myself.
I miss Saturday mornings playing Donkey Kong Country in my friend's basement, on a boxy television that hummed when you turned it on.
I miss the charming, light-hearted aesthetic of 90's Lego catalogs, whose colorful backgrounds and smiling characters transported me to a happier world.
 |
Image credit: The Brothers Brick |
I can't help but smile when I think of all those things. But to entertain thoughts of the past requires balance--a delicate walk between living in the past and learning from it. And I have to recognize that the past, as beautiful as it was, isn't necessarily better than the life I have now.
The Lego sets from my childhood continue to fill me with wonder, and they feel positively different from what the company produces today. Different--not better. What I wouldn't have given to have a set like the massive Ninjago City when I was a kid!
And while a hallmark of the Super Nintendo is how its games have stood the test of time, I know my seven-year-old eyes would have gone wide with amazement at, say, Mario Kart 8.
And yeah, I have a lot more responsibility now than I did as a teenager. But I'm also married to my best friend, and we have three children who I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. They light up my whole life.
Whenever I start thinking about "the good ol' days," I try to steer those thoughts toward an internal discussion of what lessons I can use from them.
If I long for a simpler time, maybe I should make this time simpler.
If my happy memories are about people, maybe I should leave my phone in a back room while I spend quality time with my family.
Maybe I can use the Internet to access the vast stores of human knowledge instead of arguing with strangers over politics.
Maybe I can go outside a little more, or read more books, or build my own happy Lego town.
Someday I'll look back on this time of my life the same way I look back on my childhood. Right now, I get to choose what that future me will see.
Thomas S. Monson has said, "The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it." By learning from the past and truly appreciating the present, I can make memories the future me will treasure.
These are the moments I will someday get nostalgic for.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Warped Plastic #11
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Warped Plastic #10
Ah, National Novel Writing Month. The most beautiful and terrible time of the year.
Click to see Warped Plastic #9 and #11.
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
Calling Customer Service? 5 Things to Consider
I love working in customer service. I get to talk to lots of people all around the country every single day, and I've made some great connections. I feel like I'm doing something truly meaningful by serving my customers, and I love to help them.
But not everyone loves calling customer service. And sometimes, the experience leaves much to be desired--for both the customer and the service representative.
You can make it easier, though. For those moments when you have to make that call, here are five tips to help you have a better customer service experience:
I had a customer call in upset because she placed her order on a Friday, paid for 1-3 business day shipping, and didn't receive her package before Monday.
I promised her free shipping on her next order, because losing a customer over shipping is just stupid, and it was the best I could do to smooth things over.
Here's the thing, though: I know we gave her a realistic delivery date when she ordered over the phone, because that's a key element of every sales offer my company makes. And Monday is only the first business day after Friday. If she ordered on a Friday and had listened to the sales representative, she wouldn't have expected her package over the weekend. But she ended up disappointed.
Unfortunately, this kind of thing happens all the time.
If you're calling customer service, please listen to what they tell you. Chances are you'll save yourself a bad experience and another phone call.
In general, the customers I encounter who get the most upset over things like shipping and service times are the ones who procrastinated in the first place.
I get it. Sometimes things break. Sometimes the people you count on--yes, even the companies you pay for services--under-deliver. And you can't really plan on that happening. Legitimate emergencies happen.
But often, planning ahead is entirely possible. Know when you're moving? Don't wait to call the cable company. Don't know how to fix that leaky pipe? Call the plumber as soon as you notice it. Need your contact lenses in order to tell your child apart from a cactus? Order them before you run out.
Save yourself the stress. And save the service associate your stress, too.
I didn't think there were so many of this kind of person out there, but every single day when I quote a price, I have more than one customer say, "Nope, I'm not gonna pay that," "I want free shipping," or "Wow, that's really expensive. Can I get a discount?"
And of course I say, "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me just change the price for you."
Except, wait, I don't.
If it were up to me, everything would be affordable to everyone, and the moment you ordered something it would poof onto your doorstep. Really. I'm on your side, here.
But this is not a perfect world, and I don't make the prices.
And I know you're used to getting free shipping with your Amazon Prime or whatever (which still costs money, by the way). But here in real life, you have to pay the people who bring you your package. Just like how decent people tip their waiter.
Trust me--I've worked for both UPS and a restaurant. If you don't pay those blessed souls, they will cut you.
Sure, discounts happen now and then. Coupons are a thing. My company even price matches. And under some conditions, you might even get free shipping.
But you'll be happier if you understand those are exceptions--not the rule.
I'll be the first to admit I cave in sometimes. Because, again, losing a sale over something like shipping? Stupid. But it just makes you sound like a spoiled child, and I guarantee I'm judging you while we're on the phone.
Remember what I said about things poofing onto your doorstep?
Yeah. Some customers think I can do that.
As nice as it would be, I cannot make the Postal Service get to your house faster.
I cannot change my company's policies because they inconvenience you.
I cannot magically create a better rebate or promotion.
I wish I could, because I want to help you. I wish I could just say the words and whatever you needed would be done.
But customer service isn't God. As much as we dislike to say it, we have limits. If you're nice, though, we'll try to make it up to you.
Imagine your day. Your week. What are your passions? What are you going through? What do you want out of life? What have you done, and who do you love?
Your life is complex. You are more than just a voice on the phone.
So is the customer service representative.
One of my coworkers is expecting her first child. Another is an agented author, waiting for a publisher to buy her book.
We have lives outside the call center. We have sick kids at home, cars that need repairs, big plans for the weekend.
You may be frustrated. You may be in a hurry. But please, remember you're speaking to a person.
So be personable.
Most customers are a pleasure to help. Remember these tips, and you'll undoubtedly be one of them--every single time.
You may even get better service.
I love working in But not everyone loves calling customer service. And sometimes, the experience leaves much to be desired--for both the customer and the service representative.
You can make it easier, though. For those moments when you have to make that call, here are five tips to help you have a better customer service experience:
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| Image credit: yobobie on Imgflip |
1. Listen, Listen, Listen
I had a customer call in upset because she placed her order on a Friday, paid for 1-3 business day shipping, and didn't receive her package before Monday.
I promised her free shipping on her next order, because losing a customer over shipping is just stupid, and it was the best I could do to smooth things over.
Here's the thing, though: I know we gave her a realistic delivery date when she ordered over the phone, because that's a key element of every sales offer my company makes. And Monday is only the first business day after Friday. If she ordered on a Friday and had listened to the sales representative, she wouldn't have expected her package over the weekend. But she ended up disappointed.
Unfortunately, this kind of thing happens all the time.
If you're calling customer service, please listen to what they tell you. Chances are you'll save yourself a bad experience and another phone call.
2. Don't Let Your Issue Become an Emergency
In general, the customers I encounter who get the most upset over things like shipping and service times are the ones who procrastinated in the first place.
I get it. Sometimes things break. Sometimes the people you count on--yes, even the companies you pay for services--under-deliver. And you can't really plan on that happening. Legitimate emergencies happen.
But often, planning ahead is entirely possible. Know when you're moving? Don't wait to call the cable company. Don't know how to fix that leaky pipe? Call the plumber as soon as you notice it. Need your contact lenses in order to tell your child apart from a cactus? Order them before you run out.
Save yourself the stress. And save the service associate your stress, too.
3. We Don't Make the Prices
I didn't think there were so many of this kind of person out there, but every single day when I quote a price, I have more than one customer say, "Nope, I'm not gonna pay that," "I want free shipping," or "Wow, that's really expensive. Can I get a discount?"
And of course I say, "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me just change the price for you."
Except, wait, I don't.
If it were up to me, everything would be affordable to everyone, and the moment you ordered something it would poof onto your doorstep. Really. I'm on your side, here.
But this is not a perfect world, and I don't make the prices.
And I know you're used to getting free shipping with your Amazon Prime or whatever (which still costs money, by the way). But here in real life, you have to pay the people who bring you your package. Just like how decent people tip their waiter.
Trust me--I've worked for both UPS and a restaurant. If you don't pay those blessed souls, they will cut you.
Sure, discounts happen now and then. Coupons are a thing. My company even price matches. And under some conditions, you might even get free shipping.
But you'll be happier if you understand those are exceptions--not the rule.
I'll be the first to admit I cave in sometimes. Because, again, losing a sale over something like shipping? Stupid. But it just makes you sound like a spoiled child, and I guarantee I'm judging you while we're on the phone.
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| Image credit: QuickMeme |
4. We Don't Possess Godlike Powers
Remember what I said about things poofing onto your doorstep?
Yeah. Some customers think I can do that.
As nice as it would be, I cannot make the Postal Service get to your house faster.
I cannot change my company's policies because they inconvenience you.
I cannot magically create a better rebate or promotion.
I wish I could, because I want to help you. I wish I could just say the words and whatever you needed would be done.
But customer service isn't God. As much as we dislike to say it, we have limits. If you're nice, though, we'll try to make it up to you.
5. We're People, Just Like You
Imagine your day. Your week. What are your passions? What are you going through? What do you want out of life? What have you done, and who do you love?
Your life is complex. You are more than just a voice on the phone.
So is the customer service representative.
One of my coworkers is expecting her first child. Another is an agented author, waiting for a publisher to buy her book.
We have lives outside the call center. We have sick kids at home, cars that need repairs, big plans for the weekend.
You may be frustrated. You may be in a hurry. But please, remember you're speaking to a person.
So be personable.
 |
| Image credit: Meme Guy |
Most customers are a pleasure to help. Remember these tips, and you'll undoubtedly be one of them--every single time.
You may even get better service.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Saturday, October 14, 2017
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
A Possibly Terrible Life Lesson from Bowling
My wife and I went bowling with some friends last weekend. A lot of people don't know that's something I love to do. Even fewer know it's something I'm good at.
That's because I haven't been good at it in a while.
I got a little spoiled as a missionary in Texas, when a member of my church happened to own a bowling alley and let us play for free every week. By the time I left, I could consistently bowl a 200+ game. I felt like a king on the lanes.
But things happen. Like life. And kids. And bills.
So my wife and I go maybe once a year now. And we always have a great time.
But man, am I bad at bowling.
Here's the thing about bowling, though: the more you strike, the less you actually get to play. If you really want to get your money's worth, you've got to miss the pins.
For the uninitiated (what do you even do with your life?), in bowling you get to throw the ball twice every time it's your turn. But if you bowl a strike--knock down all the pins in one throw--your turn is over. You don't get a second throw.
Sure, you end up with a higher score and everyone thinks you're cool. But dang it, I didn't pay six US dollars to bowl just half my turns.
Such is life.
We all want to do our best--we all want to bowl a strike, so to speak--but if we get too caught up in that perfect score, we miss part of the point of being here. We miss a lot of the game.
I'm not saying to go out and live recklessly. No one likes bowling gutter balls.
What I am saying is to embrace the messiness of life. Learn from your mistakes, and don't be afraid to make them. Enjoy life as a process, not as a showroom.
In short, live.
I've missed plenty of bowling pins in life. I've made poor decisions, gotten hurt, or just plain made things harder on myself more times than I care to admit.
But it's been an interesting journey, full of scenic routes and detours. I've got stories to tell. And I'm more proud of that than if I'd bowled a perfect game.
The pins are up. I hope you'll cheer when only one falls down.
That's because I haven't been good at it in a while.
I got a little spoiled as a missionary in Texas, when a member of my church happened to own a bowling alley and let us play for free every week. By the time I left, I could consistently bowl a 200+ game. I felt like a king on the lanes.
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| Move over, Homer Simpson. Image credit: GoBowling on Pinterest |
But things happen. Like life. And kids. And bills.
So my wife and I go maybe once a year now. And we always have a great time.
But man, am I bad at bowling.
Here's the thing about bowling, though: the more you strike, the less you actually get to play. If you really want to get your money's worth, you've got to miss the pins.
 |
| Image credit: QuickMeme |
For the uninitiated (what do you even do with your life?), in bowling you get to throw the ball twice every time it's your turn. But if you bowl a strike--knock down all the pins in one throw--your turn is over. You don't get a second throw.
Sure, you end up with a higher score and everyone thinks you're cool. But dang it, I didn't pay six US dollars to bowl just half my turns.
Such is life.
We all want to do our best--we all want to bowl a strike, so to speak--but if we get too caught up in that perfect score, we miss part of the point of being here. We miss a lot of the game.
I'm not saying to go out and live recklessly. No one likes bowling gutter balls.
 |
| What are you even doing? Image credit: Wormhole Riders |
What I am saying is to embrace the messiness of life. Learn from your mistakes, and don't be afraid to make them. Enjoy life as a process, not as a showroom.
In short, live.
I've missed plenty of bowling pins in life. I've made poor decisions, gotten hurt, or just plain made things harder on myself more times than I care to admit.
But it's been an interesting journey, full of scenic routes and detours. I've got stories to tell. And I'm more proud of that than if I'd bowled a perfect game.
The pins are up. I hope you'll cheer when only one falls down.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Warped Plastic #7
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Warped Plastic #6
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
Ten Minute Word Vomit: What World Peace Looks Like to Me
Things have been pretty quiet on the blog lately--minus the weekly webcomic updates--so I thought I'd give you all a little update on what I'm doing.
I'm still writing every day, though in small spurts rather than the BIC (Butt In Chair) time I'm used to. It's actually working out better than I thought it would: I get to think about my writing while I'm out and about, then when a line or two of words come to me, I can open Google Docs on my phone and get those thoughts down. The pages add up surprisingly fast.
My main endeavor recently, though, has been a new job in customer service. This month I started with a company that sells contact lenses, and even though that may not sound terribly exciting at first, I've loved it so far. Every morning I wake up with a mission to go help people see, and it's so rewarding getting to talk to people all around the country every day.
One of the best things about my company is that, while we do deliver a product, what we sell is service. I have the power in my position to truly help people, and I don't have to ask a supervisor if it's okay to do A, B, or C to make my customers happy. I'm learning to think more creatively about how to serve people, and I feel like I've already grown a lot as a person from doing that.
But as great as the job is, still nothing beats coming home at the end of the day.
I walked in last night to find my kids digging for dinosaur fossils in a sand table. They made a mess, but they were having so much fun. After dinner, I even joined them.
These are the moments to remember.
And this is what world peace looks like to me.
While the Internet is busy falling to pieces over NFL players and Presidential tweets, each of us have people in our real lives to love. That's not to say the online flavors of the week aren't important--open dialog on serious issues is a vital channel for positive change, too.
But man, imagine a world where, for just one hour, we all came home, put down our phones, turned off the computer, and just loved the people in our lives.
I'm still writing every day, though in small spurts rather than the BIC (Butt In Chair) time I'm used to. It's actually working out better than I thought it would: I get to think about my writing while I'm out and about, then when a line or two of words come to me, I can open Google Docs on my phone and get those thoughts down. The pages add up surprisingly fast.
My main endeavor recently, though, has been a new job in customer service. This month I started with a company that sells contact lenses, and even though that may not sound terribly exciting at first, I've loved it so far. Every morning I wake up with a mission to go help people see, and it's so rewarding getting to talk to people all around the country every day.
 |
| I'm still not as good as this guy, though. Image credit: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints |
One of the best things about my company is that, while we do deliver a product, what we sell is service. I have the power in my position to truly help people, and I don't have to ask a supervisor if it's okay to do A, B, or C to make my customers happy. I'm learning to think more creatively about how to serve people, and I feel like I've already grown a lot as a person from doing that.
But as great as the job is, still nothing beats coming home at the end of the day.
I walked in last night to find my kids digging for dinosaur fossils in a sand table. They made a mess, but they were having so much fun. After dinner, I even joined them.
These are the moments to remember.
And this is what world peace looks like to me.
While the Internet is busy falling to pieces over NFL players and Presidential tweets, each of us have people in our real lives to love. That's not to say the online flavors of the week aren't important--open dialog on serious issues is a vital channel for positive change, too.
But man, imagine a world where, for just one hour, we all came home, put down our phones, turned off the computer, and just loved the people in our lives.
Friday, September 22, 2017
Warped Plastic #5
Friday, September 15, 2017
Warped Plastic #4
Friday, September 8, 2017
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
No, Writing Is NOT My Hobby
A while ago, someone on a Lego fan page presented an interesting challenge: explain your hobby poorly.
With some thought I came up with this:
I play God to a world I keep either in my closet or on a folding table in my basement, where I dismember people if they're wearing the wrong pants, the wrong shirt, or the wrong expression.
I also sniff packets of material imported from Denmark.
Don't judge. That's the Lego experience.
I had so much fun describing that hobby I then turned to butcher others, too.
Like, every week I get together with other weirdos and rub horsehair against strings most people think are made of sheep's intestines while I watch a stick bob up and down in order to channel the spirits of dead Europeans.
I also enjoy pushing peasant foot soldiers across a field full of traps and tell them they can't run. If any make it to the other side alive, I endow them with incredible powers and they get an immediate sex change (assuming they're male, but they all get the same operation).
Then there's writing.
I could give a terrible description to what I do as a writer. There's plenty to work with.
But I don't feel comfortable explaining it as a hobby, because it's not a hobby. Not for me.
Often when I've told people I'm writing a book, they've said something along the lines of, "Oh, I'd love to write a book someday."
And I think, You could do it now if you took your ideas seriously enough!
Other times I almost feel embarrassed to admit I'm a writer when I introduce myself, because I think it sends a more casual image than I intend it to: one of a lonely Friday night where I have nothing better to do than blow dust off an old notebook and scribble down some terrible emo poetry I'll never finish.
Not that there's anything wrong with writing terrible emo poetry on a lonely Friday night. I think we've all done it.
But especially after I introduce myself as a writer who doesn't actually have a writing job, it can be easy for anyone to minimize that aspect of my life and classify it as a hobby.
A nice hobby, sure. But still a hobby.
So what's wrong with that?
Hobbies serve an important purpose. They relieve stress. They provide a creative outlet. They give you something to think about besides work. We all need them.
I've talked about my own hobbies quite a bit here on the blog. I have more than there's time for, unfortunately, but as sad as that makes me sometimes, I can live with that.
I can live without playing chess all the time.
I can live without hiking in the mountains every summer.
I can even live without Lego.
Shoot, I still feel the urge to play any piano I come across, whether it's in someone's house or in a public square. But despite the central role my musical instruments have played in shaping who I am, I could probably live without those, too.
Maybe I'd just be a shadow of my complete self. But I could live.
But writing? I can't live without it. And I've tried.
From the first story my older brother helped me write when I was five--a little fold-up book about a dragon and a knight--through a childhood filled with short stories, attempts at novels, storyboards for Lego movies, and a multitude of blogs, something has always compelled me to write.
When the time came for me to put aside all other pursuits and serve as a missionary for my church, I told myself, I don't need to be a writer. I'm not supposed to be a writer.
Well, that lasted a whole day. My letters home quickly turned into weekly epics that my brother posted to a blog for all my friends to see. When I got home, one reader half joked, "Now all you need to do is print it all out and publish it!"
I couldn't even stay away from writing fiction very long: eventually, I directed some of my journal writing time each night to a novel adaptation of a story from the Book of Mormon.
It's not that I wasn't dedicated to my work as a missionary. I put my whole heart into that, too. But that black badge doesn't change who you fundamentally are.
Looking back, I'm amazed it still took me three years and a host of changed college majors after my mission before I convinced myself to major in English. I tried to silence it--tried to tell myself it wasn't worth it, that it wouldn't pay the bills.
But I'm supposed to be a writer.
That's why writing is more than just a hobby to me. Yeah, it relieves stress, provides a creative outlet, and gives me something to think about besides work. And it definitely doesn't pay the bills (yet)--like any of my other hobbies.
But here's the difference: I can't live without it.
I can't sleep when I know the house will be quiet and I can jot some lines down.
I can't eat when I'm in the middle of crafting a scene.
I can't breathe without making mental notes of things to use in stories later: the musical quality of someone's voice, the flowery pattern of the wallpaper, the dewy way the air smells after rain.
Writing is the way I live. It's who I am, who I've always been, and who I want to be.
Calling it a hobby sells it short. Sells me short.
Because it's so much more than what I do for fun.
Because it takes up more than just free time.
But, if you must know how I would describe it poorly, I might say this:
I stare at walls and talk to myself about people I will never meet who live in places I will never visit but who I'm convinced are real and no one's thrown me in an institution yet.
I view the world through my opinions about the Oxford comma and the definition of literally.
I've looked into different types of poison and how to make a bomb, even though I can't squish a spider without lamenting it.
Etc., etc., etc.
This is the life I chose.
For more strange writer quirks, check out my post Nine Weird Things Writers Do.
Want to describe your hobby poorly? Share it in the comments!
A while ago, someone on a Lego fan page presented an interesting challenge: explain your hobby poorly.With some thought I came up with this:
I play God to a world I keep either in my closet or on a folding table in my basement, where I dismember people if they're wearing the wrong pants, the wrong shirt, or the wrong expression.
I also sniff packets of material imported from Denmark.
Don't judge. That's the Lego experience.
I had so much fun describing that hobby I then turned to butcher others, too.
Like, every week I get together with other weirdos and rub horsehair against strings most people think are made of sheep's intestines while I watch a stick bob up and down in order to channel the spirits of dead Europeans.
I also enjoy pushing peasant foot soldiers across a field full of traps and tell them they can't run. If any make it to the other side alive, I endow them with incredible powers and they get an immediate sex change (assuming they're male, but they all get the same operation).
 |
| Image credit: Mark Pain |
Then there's writing.
I could give a terrible description to what I do as a writer. There's plenty to work with.
But I don't feel comfortable explaining it as a hobby, because it's not a hobby. Not for me.
Often when I've told people I'm writing a book, they've said something along the lines of, "Oh, I'd love to write a book someday."
And I think, You could do it now if you took your ideas seriously enough!
Other times I almost feel embarrassed to admit I'm a writer when I introduce myself, because I think it sends a more casual image than I intend it to: one of a lonely Friday night where I have nothing better to do than blow dust off an old notebook and scribble down some terrible emo poetry I'll never finish.
Not that there's anything wrong with writing terrible emo poetry on a lonely Friday night. I think we've all done it.
But especially after I introduce myself as a writer who doesn't actually have a writing job, it can be easy for anyone to minimize that aspect of my life and classify it as a hobby.
A nice hobby, sure. But still a hobby.
 |
| Image credit: Know Your Meme |
So what's wrong with that?
Hobbies serve an important purpose. They relieve stress. They provide a creative outlet. They give you something to think about besides work. We all need them.
I've talked about my own hobbies quite a bit here on the blog. I have more than there's time for, unfortunately, but as sad as that makes me sometimes, I can live with that.
I can live without playing chess all the time.
I can live without hiking in the mountains every summer.
I can even live without Lego.
Shoot, I still feel the urge to play any piano I come across, whether it's in someone's house or in a public square. But despite the central role my musical instruments have played in shaping who I am, I could probably live without those, too.
Maybe I'd just be a shadow of my complete self. But I could live.
But writing? I can't live without it. And I've tried.
From the first story my older brother helped me write when I was five--a little fold-up book about a dragon and a knight--through a childhood filled with short stories, attempts at novels, storyboards for Lego movies, and a multitude of blogs, something has always compelled me to write.
When the time came for me to put aside all other pursuits and serve as a missionary for my church, I told myself, I don't need to be a writer. I'm not supposed to be a writer.
Well, that lasted a whole day. My letters home quickly turned into weekly epics that my brother posted to a blog for all my friends to see. When I got home, one reader half joked, "Now all you need to do is print it all out and publish it!"
 |
| Like this guy. Image credit: OverDrive |
I couldn't even stay away from writing fiction very long: eventually, I directed some of my journal writing time each night to a novel adaptation of a story from the Book of Mormon.
It's not that I wasn't dedicated to my work as a missionary. I put my whole heart into that, too. But that black badge doesn't change who you fundamentally are.
Looking back, I'm amazed it still took me three years and a host of changed college majors after my mission before I convinced myself to major in English. I tried to silence it--tried to tell myself it wasn't worth it, that it wouldn't pay the bills.
But I'm supposed to be a writer.
That's why writing is more than just a hobby to me. Yeah, it relieves stress, provides a creative outlet, and gives me something to think about besides work. And it definitely doesn't pay the bills (yet)--like any of my other hobbies.
But here's the difference: I can't live without it.
I can't sleep when I know the house will be quiet and I can jot some lines down.
I can't eat when I'm in the middle of crafting a scene.
I can't breathe without making mental notes of things to use in stories later: the musical quality of someone's voice, the flowery pattern of the wallpaper, the dewy way the air smells after rain.
Writing is the way I live. It's who I am, who I've always been, and who I want to be.
Calling it a hobby sells it short. Sells me short.
Because it's so much more than what I do for fun.
Because it takes up more than just free time.
But, if you must know how I would describe it poorly, I might say this:
I stare at walls and talk to myself about people I will never meet who live in places I will never visit but who I'm convinced are real and no one's thrown me in an institution yet.
I view the world through my opinions about the Oxford comma and the definition of literally.
I've looked into different types of poison and how to make a bomb, even though I can't squish a spider without lamenting it.
Etc., etc., etc.
This is the life I chose.
 |
| Image credit: Pinterest |
For more strange writer quirks, check out my post Nine Weird Things Writers Do.
Want to describe your hobby poorly? Share it in the comments!
Friday, September 1, 2017
Warped Plastic #2
Yesterday, after weeks of teasers, Lego announced its biggest, most expensive set to date: an updated version of the Ultimate Collector's Edition Millennium Falcon. Weighing in at 7,541 pieces and with an $800 price tag, it's sure to be a hit with hardcore fans and loan officers.
Click to see Warped Plastic #1 and #3.
Friday, August 25, 2017
Warped Plastic #1
Ladies and gentlemen, Warped Plastic has arrived!
Click to see Warped Plastic #2.
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
10 Reasons the Pokémon World Is Better Than Our Own
Niantic recently announced the arrival of legendary Pokémon in the 2016 hit app Pokémon Go, and all three people who still play it shouted for joy.
It got me thinking, though: that was a fun summer, wasn't it, when the Pokémon Go craze swept the world? I never did download the app, but I still appreciated how it brought people together. I may have even used Pokémon as a conversation starter myself once or twice during that time.
A few months ago I introduced my sons to the original Pokémon anime, and we've had Pokémon fever ever since. In March I got to hear the Utah Symphony perform music from the Pokémon video games, and I was still on an emotional high from that when the boys and I finished the Pokémon XY anime in June (which is even better than the original show, so go watch it on Netflix right now!).
I have often asked myself, why does Pokémon draw me in so completely? What is it about these TV shows and games that I just can't resist? And I finally realized it's not necessarily the variety of cool creatures or the sense of adventure.
It's the world.
Numerous bloggers have already expressed what they find disturbing about the Pokémon world. And let's just clear the air here: yes, the entire society is built on animal fighting. Michael Vick would probably be considered some kind of hero there, and that's just plain messed up.
But I would jump at any opportunity to live in the Pokémon world. Animal fighting aside, that place has a lot going for it--and, in my opinion, is even better than the world we currently live in.
Here are ten reasons the Pokémon world is better than our own:
Almost any article about the disturbing aspects of the Pokémon world will include something about children leaving home on cross-country, often solitary treks in search of wild Pokémon and ever-intensifying battles.
Sure, anything you let your children do sounds dangerous and irresponsible if you put it like that. But think of it this way: shouldn't the fact that so many parents feel comfortable sending their children on Pokémon journeys say something positive about the world they live in? Of course it wouldn't fly in our world. But apparently the Pokémon world is safe enough for children to travel alone in, and I find that worth aspiring to as a civilization.
Even if things do get a little hairy, you're never really alone anyway in the world of Pokémon--at least if you have a Pokémon of your own. No matter how safe the world is, I'm sure any parent would sleep better at night knowing their son or daughter had a Charizard with them.
But it's not just a safety thing. If you have Pokémon, you never even need to feel lonely (unless you have a Snorlax, but they can be fun sometimes, too). Those Pokéballs on your belt are there for you no matter what, whether you're hiking alone through the forest or need someone to go clubbing with. We all wish we had friends like that.
You may see the occasional car or truck in the Pokémon world, but no one really drives anywhere. Cities and towns are connected not by highways, but by foot and bike trails. All that walking means better health--and longer life. No wonder Ash Ketchum still looks so young after all these years.
Bonus: if you really want to get your blood pumping, swarms of Beedrill aren't hard to provoke, either.
People walking and biking everywhere also means dramatically lower vehicle emissions polluting the air. And while pollution and waste management remain challenges for the Pokémon world (as evidenced by Pokémon like Trubbish, for example), I guarantee any place there provides a much more pleasant respiratory experience than, say, Los Angeles or Pittsburgh. Citizens of the Pokémon world actually enjoy breathing--ten out of ten would do it again.
Clean air and an active lifestyle help, but eventually everyone gets hurt or sick. In the Pokémon world, however, you don't have to start a crowdfunding campaign to pay medical bills. (Actually, you don't have to do that lots of places, but that's none of my business.) Just drop into any Pokémon center and the friendly nurse will heal your Pokémon for free, any problem, any time. And if you can get that kind of service for veterinary care, just imagine what they can do for people! The folks in the Pokémon world have got this healthcare thing figured out.
Speaking of friendly nurses, every town has a Nurse Joy and an Officer Jenny. Let's ignore the rabbit hole of explanations for the multitude of identical nurses and police officers and appreciate, instead, that no one makes a big deal out of them being women. They give orders, excel at their jobs, and are respected in their communities. And female gym leaders? No one ever cries about getting beaten by a girl when they win.
Plenty of men hold important positions and do well in the Pokémon world, too. But where they live, it doesn't matter that they're men. And the fact that even I'm making a big deal out of this shows that in our world, we still have a long way to go.
With the exception of an occasional mayor, the Pokémon world lacks any visibly structured government. I'm not endorsing anarchy here; I just want to point out that a lack of structured government also means a lack of dirty politicians.
In general, citizens of the Pokémon world look to the heads of their local Pokémon gyms for leadership. And given that the majority of gym leaders are good, wise, experienced people, I'd say their world is in worthy hands. Know who could really "make America great again"? I've got a list of 'em.
Here's another reason parents might feel okay letting their kids roam the country on their own: the crime rate in the Pokémon world is practically zero percent. Sure, nefarious organizations like Team Rocket like to steal Pokémon, and others like Team Aqua and Team Magma are into eco-terrorism, but it's not the kind of stuff you'd worry about day to day. Things like drug dealing, murder, sexual assault? Unheard of.
Sure, something that shoots a net or tranquilizer darts will show up now and then, and there was that one awkward moment in the anime when Ash ran into a store and had a bunch of guns pulled on him. But other than that, where are the guns in the Pokémon world? No one has them.
I'm not here to debate gun policy. But reasonable people can agree that, assuming the bad guys can't get them, either, a world without guns is a safer, happier place.
Well, in the Pokémon world, the bad guys don't have guns. And considering the low crime rate and undesirability of Pokémon for game meat, no one needs guns. Fire-breathing flying lizards, on the other hand. . . .
I consider this one of the most endearing things about the Pokémon world: people living in peace with Pokémon. They work together, play together, grow old together. People see Pokémon as their friends. Businesses welcome Pokémon in their doors. Major elements of the infrastructure exist to make Pokémon comfortable.
I believe the way we treat animals says a lot about us. And yeah, the Pokémon world has the whole animal fighting problem--but look at what happens outside the arena, too. Their animals are the heart of everything they do. They're not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. But between our two worlds, I believe the people of the Pokémon world are ahead of the game.
We have a lot to learn.
Know any other reasons the Pokémon world rocks? Share them in the comments!
It got me thinking, though: that was a fun summer, wasn't it, when the Pokémon Go craze swept the world? I never did download the app, but I still appreciated how it brought people together. I may have even used Pokémon as a conversation starter myself once or twice during that time.
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| Works every time. Image credit: Yuuki_Radosian on Anime Forums |
A few months ago I introduced my sons to the original Pokémon anime, and we've had Pokémon fever ever since. In March I got to hear the Utah Symphony perform music from the Pokémon video games, and I was still on an emotional high from that when the boys and I finished the Pokémon XY anime in June (which is even better than the original show, so go watch it on Netflix right now!).
I have often asked myself, why does Pokémon draw me in so completely? What is it about these TV shows and games that I just can't resist? And I finally realized it's not necessarily the variety of cool creatures or the sense of adventure.
It's the world.
Numerous bloggers have already expressed what they find disturbing about the Pokémon world. And let's just clear the air here: yes, the entire society is built on animal fighting. Michael Vick would probably be considered some kind of hero there, and that's just plain messed up.
But I would jump at any opportunity to live in the Pokémon world. Animal fighting aside, that place has a lot going for it--and, in my opinion, is even better than the world we currently live in.
Here are ten reasons the Pokémon world is better than our own:
1. Children Can Travel Alone
Almost any article about the disturbing aspects of the Pokémon world will include something about children leaving home on cross-country, often solitary treks in search of wild Pokémon and ever-intensifying battles.
Sure, anything you let your children do sounds dangerous and irresponsible if you put it like that. But think of it this way: shouldn't the fact that so many parents feel comfortable sending their children on Pokémon journeys say something positive about the world they live in? Of course it wouldn't fly in our world. But apparently the Pokémon world is safe enough for children to travel alone in, and I find that worth aspiring to as a civilization.
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| Image credit: Imgur |
2. You Always Have Friends
Even if things do get a little hairy, you're never really alone anyway in the world of Pokémon--at least if you have a Pokémon of your own. No matter how safe the world is, I'm sure any parent would sleep better at night knowing their son or daughter had a Charizard with them.
But it's not just a safety thing. If you have Pokémon, you never even need to feel lonely (unless you have a Snorlax, but they can be fun sometimes, too). Those Pokéballs on your belt are there for you no matter what, whether you're hiking alone through the forest or need someone to go clubbing with. We all wish we had friends like that.
3. All That Walking Is Good for Your Health
You may see the occasional car or truck in the Pokémon world, but no one really drives anywhere. Cities and towns are connected not by highways, but by foot and bike trails. All that walking means better health--and longer life. No wonder Ash Ketchum still looks so young after all these years.
Bonus: if you really want to get your blood pumping, swarms of Beedrill aren't hard to provoke, either.
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| Spoiler: he threw a rock at a Spearow and has been running ever since. Image credit: Know Your Meme |
4. Clean Air Makes Breathing Fun
People walking and biking everywhere also means dramatically lower vehicle emissions polluting the air. And while pollution and waste management remain challenges for the Pokémon world (as evidenced by Pokémon like Trubbish, for example), I guarantee any place there provides a much more pleasant respiratory experience than, say, Los Angeles or Pittsburgh. Citizens of the Pokémon world actually enjoy breathing--ten out of ten would do it again.
5. You Can Afford Healthcare
Clean air and an active lifestyle help, but eventually everyone gets hurt or sick. In the Pokémon world, however, you don't have to start a crowdfunding campaign to pay medical bills. (Actually, you don't have to do that lots of places, but that's none of my business.) Just drop into any Pokémon center and the friendly nurse will heal your Pokémon for free, any problem, any time. And if you can get that kind of service for veterinary care, just imagine what they can do for people! The folks in the Pokémon world have got this healthcare thing figured out.
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| Image credit: Reddit |
6. Gender Equality Is a Thing--Or at Least It's Pretty Darn Close
Speaking of friendly nurses, every town has a Nurse Joy and an Officer Jenny. Let's ignore the rabbit hole of explanations for the multitude of identical nurses and police officers and appreciate, instead, that no one makes a big deal out of them being women. They give orders, excel at their jobs, and are respected in their communities. And female gym leaders? No one ever cries about getting beaten by a girl when they win.
Plenty of men hold important positions and do well in the Pokémon world, too. But where they live, it doesn't matter that they're men. And the fact that even I'm making a big deal out of this shows that in our world, we still have a long way to go.
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| "Talk about a family resemblance." Image credit: TV Tropes |
7. Dirty Politicians Aren't a Thing
With the exception of an occasional mayor, the Pokémon world lacks any visibly structured government. I'm not endorsing anarchy here; I just want to point out that a lack of structured government also means a lack of dirty politicians.
In general, citizens of the Pokémon world look to the heads of their local Pokémon gyms for leadership. And given that the majority of gym leaders are good, wise, experienced people, I'd say their world is in worthy hands. Know who could really "make America great again"? I've got a list of 'em.
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| Starting with Olympia, of course. Because the whole future sight thing. Image credit: Giphy |
8. Crime Almost Doesn't Even Exist
Here's another reason parents might feel okay letting their kids roam the country on their own: the crime rate in the Pokémon world is practically zero percent. Sure, nefarious organizations like Team Rocket like to steal Pokémon, and others like Team Aqua and Team Magma are into eco-terrorism, but it's not the kind of stuff you'd worry about day to day. Things like drug dealing, murder, sexual assault? Unheard of.
9. Guns Almost Don't Exist, Either
Sure, something that shoots a net or tranquilizer darts will show up now and then, and there was that one awkward moment in the anime when Ash ran into a store and had a bunch of guns pulled on him. But other than that, where are the guns in the Pokémon world? No one has them.
I'm not here to debate gun policy. But reasonable people can agree that, assuming the bad guys can't get them, either, a world without guns is a safer, happier place.
Well, in the Pokémon world, the bad guys don't have guns. And considering the low crime rate and undesirability of Pokémon for game meat, no one needs guns. Fire-breathing flying lizards, on the other hand. . . .
10. People Live in Peace with Animals
I consider this one of the most endearing things about the Pokémon world: people living in peace with Pokémon. They work together, play together, grow old together. People see Pokémon as their friends. Businesses welcome Pokémon in their doors. Major elements of the infrastructure exist to make Pokémon comfortable.
I believe the way we treat animals says a lot about us. And yeah, the Pokémon world has the whole animal fighting problem--but look at what happens outside the arena, too. Their animals are the heart of everything they do. They're not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. But between our two worlds, I believe the people of the Pokémon world are ahead of the game.
We have a lot to learn.
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| Image credit: TV Tropes |
Know any other reasons the Pokémon world rocks? Share them in the comments!
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