The dictionary defines arrogant thusly:

ar·ro·gant/ Adjective:
Having or revealing an exaggerated sense of one’s own importance or abilities.

The word derives from the Latin ‘ab’ meaning away, and ‘rogare’ meaning to question. Turning away from questioning, believing you have all the answers.

Blogs have a few vital signs, the number of visits they attract being one of them. And you can track other stuff too. Top posts, referrers, search terms, blah blah blah.

And then there’s comments. For me – this is often where the best learning is to be found. A writer sparks different thoughts and ideas in other folks’ heads and a debate occurs. In the best examples, we all learn new stuff, we all get another point of view. At the worst we might learn some new swears, and perhaps that’s not so bad?

So why do some folks (yeah OK a cheap shot but an example nonetheless) keep the contribute/share/reply/learn door closed? Closing a blog to comments kinda defeats the point of writing them, for me at least. I see a closed blog as more of a newsletter, a pronouncement or broadcast. ‘I’ve got something to tell you – take it or leave it cos I don’t give a toss what you think’.

Courtesy of @speccywoo I found this by @lruettimann. I agree with Laurie on the value of conversation, though for balance I should say that guinea pigs could take cats any day.

So I have two questions for ya.

1) Should a blog stay open for nourishment/discussion/points of view/wackos?

2) Who would win in a guinea pig v cat fight?

photo c/o greenpeanut

photo c/o Zaqarbal

Following Dad’s death, I’m starting to tidy up some loose ends. I’m not used to dealing with the vagaries of quite so many companies at once, and I’m having some interesting customer experiences. Here are just a few:

I contacted EDF Energy because I wanted to take over the electricity supply payments at Dad’s place. After long waits on the phone I told EDF their existing bank mandate from Dad’s account would stop and I’d like to start to pick up the tab. And I gave them a meter reading. Two days later – they sent me a final bill into which they’d inserted a piece of marketing titled ‘How Will You Celebrate?’ Now I’m all for celebrating the life of dead friends and family, but come on EDF, that’s a marketing #fail. And they also sent me a sniffy letter saying I was now moved onto a crap (my word), higher priced (their words) tariff because I cancelled the bank mandate. #fail

I wrote a note to Credit Suisse advising them Dad has died and that in due course, I’ll be closing his deposit account. I sent them a certified copy of the death certificate and asked for it back as I need to show it to plenty of other companies too. Today I got a letter from Credit Suisse acknowledging receipt of the certificate and enclosing a bunch of claim forms. No certificate though. I called them up and was told ‘we don’t normally return those’. OK smarty pants, so how the hell else am I supposed to prove the fact of death to all the other companies then? I’m placed on hold for a while before being told ‘we’ll return it to you’. I should coco! #fail

BT has cancelled the phone line and broadband at Dad’s place promptly, I appreciate that. Then they send me a refund cheque made payable to a mystery character, neither me nor my father. So I called them up and after a ten minute wait I get told ‘sorry we made the cheque payable to the wrong person, please return it’. ‘How about I just shred it and you send me another one?’ I ask. But no. BT doesn’t trust me to destroy a cheque for £24 and furthermore because I want it to be made payable to me they now want to see a copy of Dad’s death certificate. BT are now wasting my time, and my money thanks to their mistake. #fail

It’s not all bad. British Gas have been fabulous. They have a dedicated bereavement team and every thing was switched over to me with no fuss and they have kindly offered to hold all the bills and keep the supply going while I sort probate of Dad’s estate. How thoughtful of you, Thanks! And Sutton and East Surrey Water have been simply fab. Easy to deal with, correct about everything. Spot on.

I don’t believe that any of these companies set out to deliver such a poor experience, and at the same time, in order to have front line service people doing such a poor job, something is wrong. It’s not just me taking hassle on board to manage this crap service, all these companies are incurring costs and wasted time too.

I’m not interested in blaming anyone, I have no interest in a departmental finger wagging contest. What I’d really like to see is closer links between HR and customer service and the customer so that we can have better conversations about how to make these things easier. For all of us, in all circumstances. Is that too much to ask do you think?

I sometimes use the word stupid in conversation. Keira tells me off about it. A lot.  Keira thinks it’s rude and prefers me to say Saint Cupid instead. I’m OK with that.

Saint Cupid = Stupid.

I think the equation balances even better like this: Cupid = Stupid.

Don’t get me wrong, I love love, I just love it because it happens naturally. Not because the greeting card/restaurant/flower business tells me I should. And I hope and hope with all my heart (see what I did there) that no lovely HR people are planning on loading Cupid’s bow next Tuesday? ‘Oooh it’s Valentine’s Day next week – let’s have some dumbass meaningless feelgood initiative.’ Please – don’t do it. It’s Saint Cupid.

Love your family. Love your work. Love your people. Love your customers. Because you want to, when you want to, when you’ve earned it.

Note: this curmudgeonly moan does not extend to chocolate. I’m happy to accept chocolate 24/7, heart shaped or otherwise. 

Update – check out these two posts from Mike Vandervort and Laurie Ruettimann