Ain't Broke

When does a person become too old for the world? When are the old ways better, and when is it time to find a new and better way? Sometimes, if something is working well, it shouldn't be fixed. Sometimes, if something that works well can be made better, the old ways should be discarded. Determining either scenario is the true feat.

In the accurate and moving film In Good Company, Dennis Quaid plays a businessman in his early 50s who faces an all-too common problem in corporate America. When the sports magazine for which he sells ad space for is bought out by another company, there are of course fears and rumors of layoffs. Quaid is confident, assuring his workers that they've had a good year and that he doubts the new owners would change something that works. Soon, the company faces a reorganization and many disruptive changes ensue, including Quaid being demoted and reporting to a much younger boss played by Topher Grace. New, inexplicable changes are made to existing business practices and when some of the risks don't pay off, they lay off more employees. I won't spoil the resolution of the film but I highly recommend it, especially to anyone who's ever worked in an office.

Quaid's character worked for years, developed a rapport with his clients. He knew how to approach them, and didn't use fancy buzzwords like “synergy”. Speaking to people like they were just that, people, proved to be the most productive method of all. Of course, sometimes things do change for the better and, if we're not careful, we can be left behind. I've seen people in supervisory positions suddenly find themselves unemployed after years of looking over those who use design programs to do the actual work. Not only is it hard to find another position at their level, but since software updates so often and they've been out of practice for years, they may no longer be qualified for positions at lower levels without additional training. It's a tough spot to be in when you're suddenly pushed off the ladder and there are rungs missing.

I went with my dad to pick up some paint at The Home Depot today. After searching in vain for the same shade of red that he'd painted our veranda years ago, I noticed something interesting. I suggested that perhaps the reason the colors were all white and shades of gray was because specific colors in the chart hanging in front of the shelf had to be mixed by adding a dye to the canisters before us, which were likely only bases. It seemed like a logical explanation to me, and it made more sense than taking up shelf space with multiple colors. What if most people bought blue and orange went untouched? This way, every can of paint could be customized to every customer with a smaller bottle mixed in at the counter. My dad disagreed, thought the place was “terrible”, and pointed out that he had no trouble buying the same shade of red as-is a few years ago. Nevertheless, I found the nearest worker and asked the question despite suspecting the answer already. He said if we wanted a certain color he'd have to mix it, and took the brochure from my dad. The swatches in the book had hyphenated numbers beneath them. The first number was the base, and the second code corresponded to a smaller can of dye. My dad picked the color he wanted and the guy mixed it for us. He feared telling my mom that we spent over $20 since she'd feel paint should still only cost $5. I carried the paint over to one of those new self-service checkouts rather than getting on one of the lines. “Are you sure you know how to use this thing?” he asked, but by then I'd already scanned, bagged and processed the order. I said “yes”, fed the machine his money, and handed him his change and the receipt.

The older we get, the harder it is to learn new things, and to let go of old, familiar ways. ”If it ain't broke, don't fix it.” This is all-too true most of the time, but sometimes when the world changes around us, we have no choice but to change with it. Following the Home Depot, our next stop was a window store. The windows in the front of our house are rusting and need replacing. We live in a Spanish-style stucco house with metal windows on hinges and single-pane glass. There's only a few rooms in the house where renovations have forced us to replace the original windows entirely, since that kind isn't made anymore. The guy in the window place was stunned to learn what we had, and educated us in the fact technology has thankfully changed and, at least in the Northeastern United States, NO ONE has single-pane glass in metal, especially since metal conducts cold. He showed us some samples, and explained how instead of smaller panes we'd have two large panes, one inner and one outer, between which wood could simulate the grid pattern of our original window. With this type of window we wouldn't have to replace the inner screens with glass during the winter, and could keep this set-up all year round. He also had the windows in a shade of red similar to our other windows. It was all logical and thorough, and the estimate for the window combined with having someone come and install it was close to $2,000. My dad said he'd have to consult his wife and thanked the guy for his time.

The one thing I didn't like about the encounter, besides the guy's initial reaction of almost laughing in our faces, was how he kept addressing me when it was my dad making the inquiry. I'm used to being the kid ignored by adults. When I was younger and we'd go to a hardware store, I might as well not have been standing alongside my dad's knees as he spoke with a salesman. At some point I've apparently become an adult without realizing it, and I'm seeing an ugly side of our society where senior citizens still in full possession of their faculties are treated as children. I felt like telling the guy, “Stop looking at me; my dad's the one buying a window. He's asking the questions; answer him. I'm just the driver here, the muscle carrying anything heavy.”

It seems like just last week I was writing about the wisdom of our elders. There are dozens of things my parents know how to do that will never and should never be improved upon or changed. There are also instances of them not changing when they should, and struggling with unwise changes where they have no choice but to comply with the majority. Watch your parents; they're a window to our own futures. Even now I'm certain there are kids in college who know the newest programs better than I do, and it's only going to get worse. I worry about people listening to me and taking me seriously NOW, since they never did when I was a kid. To think that 45 years from now I could find myself dealing with patronizing salespeople who'd rather explain things to someone younger isn't a pleasant thought. The flipside of this whole situation is, of course, the things I can do. If I can remain flexible with certain things and always try to keep learning, I just might surprise the salespeople of the future....

“Sir, NO ONE uses Schwartzenneggionium fuel cells anymore. You really want a R.I.F.T.™-based catalyzer.”
“Son, I've been flying my hovercar since before you were cloned. According to the article I just downloaded to my Cerebellochip, there are still some risks with that technology and I really don't feel like falling through any interdimensional portals on my ride home. So if the Space Depot values me as a customer, I think you'll be getting what I asked you for in the first place....”

Yeah, that will be sweet. Lousy Space Depot punks, think they always know better than me....