Surprising Secrets (or maybe not)

Just read an article on LinkedIn (I think it was written by someone half my age ... but lately, everyone seems to be half my age). Okay, truth is I was bored and looking for inner meaning in my life. Isn't that why people read this stuff?

This article was called: "Surprising Secrets of Truly Great Bosses". It completely reverses all the things you have ever learned about good management. Get it? Me either ... except that it gets people to read your article, I guess.

Anyway ... I put my own spin at the end of each poignant statement:

1. They put the customer second.

When managers preach and practice the longstanding axiom to put the customer first, they overlook their employees, who are the people actually responsible for creating and nurturing the customer experience.

Customers can immediately sense when the employees of the firms from which they buy are miserable, overworked, or under trained. Truly great bosses concentrate on making certain that their employees are happy, healthy and can do the work required.

( Therefore ... if your employees are overworked and don't particularly want to wait on customers or they haven't been trained on how to be nice to people, give them a little more time off with pay and make their lives less miserable ... it will ultimately make you a better boss and your customers will love it).

2. They don't manage the bottom line.

The "bottom line"--your quarterly or yearly numbers--only represents the history of what's happened, so focusing on it is like trying to drive a car while looking in the rear-view mirror.

Truly great bosses know that the only way to get good numbers in the future is to keep your attention on what's going on right now in your market and industry and the activities that your employees are undertaking to take advantage of the present reality.

(Who really cares whether you were successful last month? As long as your employees are happy. By the way, the truck that is barreling down on you that you can't see in the rear view mirror will only push you further ahead.)

3. They celebrate the tough times.

It's easy to have great morale when a company is successful, but when times are tough, not so much. Worst case, you can get a "chicken or egg" situation where everyone is waiting for things to improve, with decreasing hope that they actually will.

Ironically, it's when things are difficult that you're most likely to have breakthroughs--but only if people keep their spirits up. That's when truly great bosses figure out how to make work fun and keep their people happy.

(If your numbers are down ... it's time to celebrate. What better way to celebrate than have a party ... with the money that you don't have! I think your staff will totally understand when there is nothing left to give them when times are better.)

4. They have more questions than answers.

Many managers think that their job is to know all the answers--and provide them to their employees as frequently as possible. However, when managers provide all the answers, they rob their employees of the opportunity to think and grow.

While experience has value, people can't learn when that wisdom is presented on a platter or forced down their throat. That's why great bosses ask questions that will spark, in the employee's own mind, the thought processes that will make that employee successful.

(Personally I like a manager who has questions ... just not crazy about the ones that have no answers.)

Way Down Yonder ... Finale

Parting shots of New Orleans (My artsy side):

Love these tall balcony window/doorways.

Chartres Street

By the Square

St Louie's

Royal Street

$16 for 30 minutes

Famous doorway

Don't see this every day

Cemetery shot 

Way Down Yonder ... Continued

Question: What is pictured to the left?

Hint: This is one of the major food groups in New Orleans.

Answer: If you said beignets .. you are not a native. My people just call them donuts. Order this at Morning Call in Metairie and say ... "Order of donuts and coffee". That means café au lait and beignets.

By the way, it only costs about $4.

Is there anything in the world more delicious?

Deb and I started there this morning. It was a grey day with scattered showers and  not one you'd want to spend walking the streets of the French Quarter so we drove to my old haunts.

This is my favorite. Morning Call (as I've written about before in my blog: "How you know if someone grew up in New Orleans") is the best place to have coffee and donuts. It used to be down the street from Café Du Monde in the Quarter and all the locals ate there. It moved some years back to Metairie and still has the original furnishings and still is the best!

It was such a dreary day that I thought a tour of the cemeteries in Metairie would be appropriate. As you might know, bodies are buried above ground here. The city is built on a swamp ... bodies "move around a lot" if they are buried in the conventional way. So the cemeteries which look like stone cities are filled with crypts and mausoleums. There are famous ones in the Quarter, but my favorites are the ones that line Metairie Road.

The stark contrast of the flowers placed by families in front of these massive stone structures is striking.

After our brief tour of the dead, we looked at the houses of the living (high living).

Old Metairie has incredible estates that rival those you would see on St. Charles Avenue. The massive oak trees frame these beautiful homes nestled in the older neighborhoods that the casual onlooker never really know about. (Wow ... I sound like a travel guide or a realtor or ... pretentious ... huh?)

Anyway, this was Debbie's tour and I knew that she would love the real estate insight. These homes didn't appear to have any lingering damage from Katrina. I always loved this neighborhood ... I knew some kids that lived here and they allowed me to visit if I promised not to make it a habit. Last time I showed you my old neighborhoods. Easy to see why I spent a lot of time visiting OTHER neighborhoods.

So ... for contrast ... we travelled uptown to visit my favorite and one of the last surviving neighborhood bookstores: Maple Street Book Shops. Located near the corner of Maple and Hillary, this place has charm, elegance, old air conditioners, the smell of a well worn bookstore ... even a roach or two. It actually resides in two houses. One has new books and one has old books. Bought the latest book, "Shoot the Moon" from Chris Wiltz (a high school buddy and terrific writer).

Maple and Hillary was also once the destination of our favorite hang outs. The Raven was our bar when I was ... drinking age (that meant I was tall enough to reach the bar in New Orleans). Everybody knew Percy the bartender.

Maple Hill was the restaurant across the street. After a night at the Raven, we'd discuss politics and the arts (translation: football and girls) and eat chicken fried steak sandwiches (or was that College Inn?)


 
Speaking of food, since we hadn't eaten in two hours, Deb and I decided to head over to ACME Oyster House. Still one of the best even though it's now a popular tourist destination and jacked its prices up by 200%. We sat at the oyster bar and ate po boys while the shuckers threw me an errant oyster or two.

 It was heaven.
  

Way Down Yonder (The Prequel)

Finally.

A weekend we can actually get away. And where better to get away? You guessed it ... New Orleans!

This morning we packed our bags, jumped in the car (well not exactly jumped ... more like dragged our butts) and headed to the airport. No stand by flights for us. We had actual tickets on Southwest. It's the only airline with direct flights to New Orleans. We can, of course, pick our own seats (lovely visual huh?) We had numbers A43 and A44 because Debbie got Early Bird Check-in for only $16,000 which allowed us to be in the A line without calling at 2AM ... I guess.

You know, even though I am always excited about going home, I must admit I always start out in a rotten mood before every flight. I can't stand Security. I'm usually the guy getting pulled out of line and patted down. This time I really did everything I was supposed to. I even put my dangerous deodorant and toothpaste in a quart size baggie.

But alas ... I knew it was too good to be true.

I heard TSA agent #1 say,"Step this way sir and talk to ... him." ("Him" was TSA agent #2 who had a gleam in his eye when I exited the naked scan booth).

"Anything in your back pocket sir?" He asked.

"Nothing," I said (I wanted to say "just my ass" but held back.)

"Sir, I'm going to have to pat you down. OKAY?"

Sure ... fine. He grabbed each cheek and checked the rest of my body until he was satisfied and then wiped my hands with a cloth. He told me to wait there while he checked it (for traces of explosive deodorant bottles no doubt). I was clean.

Fortunately, we had plenty of time to spare after security clearance (hah) ... 15 minutes to be exact. So I made a beeline to our terminal and Debbie made a beeline to Starbuck's. Let me just say that this is a routine that makes me nuts. Debbie ... who I love dearly ... will be late to her own funeral. I knew as I stood dutifully in my assigned A43 spot that A44 would be late ... and sure enough ... as we boarded the plane and I saw the people behind me pushed aside by my wife proudly holding her coffee and her 236 pound suitcase.

A cute little lady from Turkey was sitting next to Debbie looking out the window with tears streaming down her cheek. We were both touched by this. Debbie struck up a conversation and found out that she was travelling alone to her son's wedding in New Orleans and was a little scared.

I thought at first that she was sad that the stewardess made her put her tiny handbag under the seat in front of her during takeoff (a common safety measure to protect her and others from being hit by the 2 pound bag in case we crashed and imploded).

Debbie worried about her all day. I guess I shouldn't have asked her to get the 236 pound bag down for me when we left.

Oh well. It gave her something to do and focused her on more important things.

Landed in NEW ORLEANS, finally. Unfortunately it's raining and we will have to stay in Harrah's all night ... gambling (I guess). Shucks.

Tune in tomorrow.