Would pay to feel good!
Good feeling from kind words, acts.
What does that cost me?
One thing I always knew I wanted to avoid when I got older was taking pills.
I think of one episode of Gilligan’s Island where Thurston Howell III was left to manage his day without his wife.
He announced he had figured out his ‘pill schedule’ on his own.
He would just take one of each every hour.
Now I got pills for headaches.
Pills for body aches.
Pills for my heart to work better.
Pills to make my stomach fill better.
Pills to help my gut stop hurting.
Pills to help use the restroom.
Pills to avoid needing to use the restroom.
Pills to fill in the gaps of things I need in my diet that I don’t get in my diet.
And pills to help just feel good because I feel so bad when I think about all the pills I take.
I look in the cupboard and I think, “something went wrong here.”
I don’t expect to feel GREAT.
But, well, better, wouldn’t be bad.
Or just good.
And I realized something.
Recently I have received unexpected complimentary comments on, of all things, my haikus.
I almost find it hard to believe it myself.
One, that anyone might enjoy reading this blog makes me feel, for lack of a better word, good.
That anyone would take time out of their day to tell me just blows me away.
Not a pill, but just a few kind words.
It made me stop and think about the times I have made time to compliment someone.
Recently my wife and I had to be out at Hartsfield.
You know, the local airport here.
The world comes to Atlanta through Hartsfield.
The joke is when you die and go to heaven/hell you still have to change planes at Hartsfield.
One of the odd pleasures of living in Atlanta is that when you travel and you are flying back to Atlanta, you can tell your seatmate’s that you are flying into Hartsfield BECAUSE you live in Atlanta.
ANYWAY, I can’t remember why we were there, dropping someone off or picking someone up and we decided to get some coffee.
The Starbucks was jammed so we walked down the concourse to an IHOP and got coffee and sat at a table near the railing and watched the world walk by.
Several times the IHOP manager stopped by for refills.
He was friendly in a truly friendly way.
Asked why we were there.
Commented on the business and such.
Each time he stopped he had another friendly comment or chatted for a minute.
It wasn’t just us.
This young man WORKED that dining area.
Got extra plates or cups or refills for anyone who needed anything.
He got everyone to smile and if you know Hartsfield, that is one hard crowd.
I finally asked if his boss was around or supervisor or whatever because I wanted that person to know how impressive this guy was.
He laughed and said no, no one, not to worry, he was just doing his job.
But as we left, he approached us.
He apologized and didn’t want to bother us but there was a guy, if I was serious, that I could email.
And he handed me a business card.
I told him of course I would, I would be happy to, and I took the card and his pen and asked him for his name which I wrote on the card.
And we left.
Me wife looks at me with what we call the BERG STARE.
It’s a look that could stop an elephant or cause water to freeze.
All her sisters can do it.
My daughters and grand daughters have learned it as well.
“You better do it”, says my wife.
When we got home I got on my computer and opened up my work email
When I need to sound official I use my work email.
In Atlanta, an email from someone at WXIA TV – 11Alive is a little bit different than an email from mikesox at GMAIL.
And I related the story I just told.
I said I wanted this company to be aware of the great work of the young man at the airport.
I told them that from my point of view, working out there at Hartsfied, they had a great AMBASSADOR for both Atlanta and their company.
I hit send and I felt GOOD.
Better than I could feel from all those pills.
My wife asks me later, “Did you email that guy.”
I said, “YUP” and I felt even better.
Couple of days later I get an email back from the guy on the business card.
He was the VP of the chain that managed most of the restaurants at Hartsfield.
He thanked me.
He said it made him fell good that I would take the time to write such a note.
He said they didn’t get too many positive notes like that.
Now I felt good all over again.
Better than I could feel with all those pills.
A few days later I got an email from the young man.
That company had weekly staff meetings out at the airport and my email had been read out loud and then he was identified as the person in the email.
He thanked me.
He thanked me because we noticed he was doing a great job.
He thanked me for taking the time to write an email.
I felt good for a week.
I felt better than good.
I sure felt better than I could have from taking all those pills.
I wrote an email.
What did that cost me?