Rant

I am not a conspiracy theorist. I am not a pessimist. I do not dwell on negative thoughts. However, I am being challenged on most of these positions.

I am not a conspiracy theorist. I am not a pessimist. I do not dwell on negative thoughts.

However, I am being challenged on most of these positions by the fact that our fax machine spits out faxes from companies wanting to sell products/processes/loans/systems to us at work. Really? This is effective marketing?

It is waste. Pure and simple waste. I feel sorry for the fool that actually faxes back the form with their pertinent personal data for a chance to win a cruise with other gamblers through the Caribbean. And I would definitely give my social security number to a faceless fax machine for a chance at reduced-cost tax preparation.

STUFF has a fax machine that sits next to me and directly behind Casey in our office. We scrape the bottom of the toner cartridges because toner is expensive. We use it up. We let it tell us 30+ times that the “toner is low,” and even then we do nothing. We do nothing until we can’t print a project we just sent to the printer. (Our machine is a fax/scanner/printer.)

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The great thing about the brains in our machine – or the curse – is that, when ink is getting low, it stops automatically printing incoming documents. It continues to print what we send to it, and then, when it gives us the “toner is empty” screen, we gripe and moan and change the cartridge.

When that happened today sixteen (16!) different faxes ripped out of the machine offering us the cruise listed above, a qualifying business loan for $327,000, and a directory listing verification form for the upcoming edition of the Yellow Pages. As if people look at the printed Yellow Pages.

These little gems had obviously been pent up in our machine waiting for us to get off our cheap butts so those anonymous companies could waste our ink and our paper.

Business is expensive enough without these intrusions. If you want to really get my attention, call me. An actual phone call is truly kickin’ it old style.

A fax just makes me think the ink and paper industry is out to make us buy more and all the bad guys are in cahoots. But I don’t believe in conspiracy….

Rant over.

Sloane

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In Constant Search of Authenticity & A Meal I Will Never Forget

I like my world with a bit of grit. If I spend more than a couple hours in a location that is sterile, homogenized or commercialized I start to get depressed. I begin to pace like a caged animal.

I like my world with a bit of grit. If I spend more than a couple hours in a location that is sterile, homogenized or commercialized I start to get depressed. I begin to pace like a caged animal. I get short and snappy with others. I start to worry that the world is in serious trouble. And, I have to stifle my urge to scream.

I don’t understand the appeal of chain stores, themed restaurants or branded theme parks. I went on a cruise once and seriously considered jumping ship more than once. I just wanted to feel the water. Looking at it from five stories up was pure torture. I was desperate to feel the cold water. To taste the salt. To be pulled by the waves.

I have a burning desire to travel before the cultures of the world are “walmarted” and “targeted” to death.

What will the world look like if all the small authentic businesses and communities disappear? You can’t rebuild, recreate or paint on a patina that will ever replace an original. It falls flat.

When I find authentic locales. I get excited. I don’t want to own something or eat something that is one of the millions manufactured. I want to own a one-in-a-million piece of art or eat a meal that can’t be found anywhere else.

I crave authenticity.

Which is why I will never forget the first time I ate at Le Maire’s in Sedalia, Missouri.

IMG_201Le Maire's Seafood Restaurant & Market40126_180849 It wasn’t the original location, but it was original in every other way.

IMG_20140126_174302 IMG_20140126_174325The fried clams were made as a starter just for us.

IMG_20140126_174444 IMG_20140126_174523The place was spotless. We did share the place with 5 other tables. But, I didn’t take photos of the people because I “outed” myself as a crazy out-of-towner with my photo taking and it seemed rude.

IMG_20140126_180619The catfish dinner is the menu “must have”. My daughter insisted on ordering the adult sized platter and put away all six pieces of fish. Please note there is no oily residue on the plate.

IMG_20140126_180828  The painted walls and murals created a festive Cajun mood.

Le Maire's Seafood Restaurant & MarketThere is a little grotto at the entrance honoring the founders, Joe and Frenchie Le Maire.

IMG_20140126_174215My daughter recommends the Gumball Coaster near the checkout counter for entertainment while you wait for your fresh fried catfish.

My Mother suggested the stop. She had known about it for many years. I threatened to never speak to her again for keeping it a secret this long, but my anger slipped away during the fried clam starter. The happiness I felt at discovering this truly authentic eatery made me giddy.

Casey

 

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Most Important Job

There are work days that are so cut up – with meetings, events, and activities – that at the end of the day I look back in wonder. Wonder at what actually got done and what was left to be tackled later. Yesterday was one of those days for me and my rich, full life. And the most important job I had yesterday was in a rainforest.

There are work days that are so cut up – with meetings, events, and activities – that at the end of the day I look back in wonder. Wonder at what actually got done and what was left to be tackled later.

Yesterday was one of those days for me and my rich, full life.

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Over an hour clearing my e-mail accounts while the sun tried to rise. A meeting with an artist who is fearlessly taking his work to the “big time” at a New York trade show started my day at STUFF. An hour at my desk on details that can overwhelm if left too long in one spot. A trip to a local charity for check signing and a quick meeting. A powwow with another charity about fundraising at their annual luncheon. Another hour at my desk and an hour on the floor with customers. Two hours at a networking and food-tasting event. A ride home on the urban interstate while the sun sets, with a sister who challenges me and is a creative force to be reckoned with.

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However, the most important job I had yesterday was in a rainforest. During the heat of noon time. Deep in the heart of midtown with a tour director that knew so much it was overwhelming, as was the crowd. Traveling up the Amazon with a small voice as your guide is the way to go. A third grader who knew not only about the “animal” she made for the project but who knew about the 40 others. I did not travel alone and was smart enough to know this was a trip the whole family would enjoy.

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Like most nature vacations, this one was suited to your traveling pleasures. If you like to learn more data and see graphs, charts, reports and videos, she had that on hand. If viewing art that replicates the local flora and fauna turns you on, she had that too. If poetry and the spoken word are your thing, she provided that as well.

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My son, who will be 17 next week, attended the same school as my niece, who led me up her Amazon yesterday. Her rainforest adventure immersed her – and her mother! – in the wonders of the piranha, while my family had absorbed all there was to know about leafcutter ants eight years ago. Ants that still hang in our play room at home.

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Yesterday I was a rainforest visitor. I was tagged as a traveler before my trip began, a name tag I didn’t keep but should have worn all day and to every meeting. A personal reminder that the most important job I have is listening carefully and absorbing all the wonders while traveling in the deepest, darkest, and most formidable places…which can be my desk, a conference room, or the interior of my own mind.

Sloane

p.s. The following photos are a reminder that the scariest creatures in the rainforest are the humans….

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… my niece …

 

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… my sister, mom and husband …

 

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… my niece and my friend …

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Copyright Casey Simmons and S. Sloane Simmons. People who steal other people's words & thoughts are asshats. Don't be an asshat.