The American shopping experience!

Having now almost virtually got over the jet lag, which has to be both welcomed and a goddamn relief, I can begin my thoughts on the USA.  Please try to remember that this is an entirely personal view, and where I should happen to mention something positive about the US this is not to be taken as a sign of advanced dementia, or its quickening onset.

I pride myself on being utterly open minded about any country I visit, therefore it naturally follows that the moment I board the plane all previous prejudices, bias and stupid thinking is put away.  Of course, once a previously held perception is proven to be the case, I become overwhelmed with a pompous delight in being proved to be right, which ultimately means I spend a lot of the time in self denial, sucking my thumb and generally refusing to remove my head from where the sun never shines.  Upon that particular note I'll continue, and in doing so I won't give a city by city account, but rather work along the lines of what I found good or bad.

First confession has to be that I'd never had any desire to visit the USA, it wasn't a place of much interest, which declined in my estimation when the UK began following the continually failing policies of an American system, socially, politically and economically.  These particular views reinforced by my own particular political leanings, which are somewhat left of centre in European terms, and most certainly way to the left in American terms.  I make no apologies for this, mostly due to my being a complete dinosaur when it comes to what I consider fair, just and acceptable.  But enough of the politics.

As I wrote in my blog, two entries ago, I was greeted at Boston Logan airport by a rather sympathetic immigration officer, which was my first surprise.  Whether the following view is right or wrong, the perception is that every American officer of the law is suspicious of everyone entering the country, who isn't American.  So the first myth was debunked, certainly every officer carries a gun, most wear a grim countenance and most you wouldn't want to get in an argument with, but my passage through was relatively easy and I was met with nothing but courtesy and a pleasant demeanour.  For the most part, during my stay, I was met with the same kind of attitude and those with nothing to gain, in a financial sense of the word, were friendly and interested in what you had to say personally.  However, that word 'buck' did on one particular occasion did leave a bad taste in my mouth, but more of that later.

To my very English sensibilities, something that's ingrained and hard to get rid of, the passing of pleasantries, when meeting someone, is often taken at face value and can serve to overcome that first encounter, often uncomfortable and due to a natural reserve, slightly apprehensive.  Yet you meet the American shop assistant, or checkout worker, and each and everyone asks how are you.  At the beginning I thought they were being nice, but I was quickly informed that this was normal and none were expecting any kind of answer, and would rather not have an answer.  This led to the impression that Americans are by and large a race of superficial characters, with absolutely no time and inclination towards anything remotely conversational.  I, being me, did no more than challenge this ridiculous attitude and replied, which was often greeted with much surprise and a complete sense of absolute loss of how to respond; particularly so in the middle age female sales assistant, when I replied to her 'how are you?' with 'all the better for seeing you my dear!'  On another occasion, whilst searching for a particular kind of jumper, I was immediately approached by this salesman, who clearly was under the impression that I was both a lost child and complete idiot.  This particular kind of 'customer service' rankles deeply with me and one I find very objectionable.  I replied to his earnest superficiality with a determined, but quietly stated, and I thought resounding 'no' when he asked if he could be of help; I've always been of the opinion that I'm perfectly capable of asking for help should I need it, but clearly there are some idiots born to be salesmen, and have no idea what the word 'no' means.  He reluctantly backed off, but a few moments later he then continued to follow me around the store, acting as though I was something akin to a trophy animal to stalk, hunt down, and finally shoot me dead.  Upon hearing his 'if I can be of any help' the second time, I lost my temper and very forcibly told him that 'should the CUSTOMER need his help I'd ask for it.'  I think he got the message as he sloped off with his tail between his legs.  But the stalking continued, as I left the store, I heard footsteps behind me, eventually with him asking a very impertinent 'excuse me' as he walked past me.  Sadly, such behaviour simply confirmed that the salesman is the worst kind of animal possible, and the American salesman the worst of the species.

In many ways, such behaviour does an enormous disservice to the vast majority of sales people, who are simply trying to do their job.  For those particular individuals, who in the main were courteous and helpful when asked, even if it eventually grated on my ears to hear the same scripted 'song', were simply trying to earn a living.  As a complete outsider, although the same practices exist in any part of the developed world, much could be done to improve customer services, and the start would be to let the 'customer be king'.  The question companies such as Sears, Macy's, J C Penney, should be asking is how to improve customer relations, not how to increase sales.  As a child, stores sold goods because the goods sold themselves, but the sales assistant rarely pushed.  Back then the 'customer was king', sadly that no longer applies, and both the sales assistant and individual is often left with an experience leaving a very bitter taste in the mouth.

This is but a brief account of the American shopping experience, and one that was more favourable was Internet shopping, a new concept to me.  Here the Americans have got it right, delivery takes place within the specified time, if dissatisfied with the goods sent they can be immediately returned and no questions are asked, returns are paid for by the company.  Personally, the ability to choose without pressure was a delight, although the vast array of stores made life difficult when it came to the matter of trust.  The matter of trust often depends on recommendations, and it was noticeable that many Internet stores often included poor reviews in addition to good ones, and final judgment could be based on an informed decision.  I have to thank my friend Stefan here for his recommendations, and what could have been a painful experience for me, a more enjoyable one.

Finally, despite my perceptions to the contrary I failed miserably to find items of clothing and shoes that I wanted, despite the vast array of shopping outlets there are.  I couldn't find a soft camera bag for my camcorder, I couldn't find a pair of Chelsea boots, and I couldn't find a fisherman's jumper.  And if Apple wishes to 'conquer' the world, breaking the dominance of windows and the pc market, my suggestion would be to vastly improve its product information, way before it decides to launch the latest technological wonder, the iPad.  Most companies would be in a far better position if they spent more time on getting the basics right, keeping the customer happy, rather than trying to be something where 'style will always matter over substance!'

Swiss gnomes....and a pussy!

I'm now home, and catching up on the chores that need doing after being away for a month.  The washing seems endless, and the thought of ironing the pile of clothes an even more labourious task to come, but I guess that's the price you have to pay for being away for so long.  The only happy thought is watching Mr. Bean as I do the necessary thankless task.

The flight from Boston Logan airport was an uneventful 7 hours, flying through the night, heading towards the morning rising sun of the European continent, finally landing at Zurich airport, around 10.45am.  Switzerland has a reputation for being full of humourless characters, and I can now confirm this to be true; especially the security guard who gave me a body search in a cubicle.  Unknown to me, and German and American security, where I went through without any real trouble, apart from the smuggling incident when I arrived at Boston, it seems that my shoes had a strip, piece, of metal running through the soles, which in turn caused the metal detector you pass through to throw a wobbly.  It's very easy for me to claim total innocence in such matters, but when a machine casts doubt on your security status, and that causes it to emit a piecing shrill, I'm quite clearly a member of the terrorist organisation, the 'R_Sole Renegades'.

The female security guard clearly took a dislike to my ponytail, no doubt due to her lack of hair, and I had to line up at the cubicle for a closer inspection.  The cubicle curtains were drawn back, and a man in his 60s left the cubicle in a somewhat bedraggled state, which didn't do much for the confidence bit.  Behind him was the uniformed security officer, wearing rubber gloves and carrying what can only be described as either an enormous vibrator or a very large truncheon to beat the crap out of me; either way it wasn't something to be desired.  As it turned out the 'thrill' or 'kill' equipment was a handheld metal detector, which eventually went to places I never knew existed on my body.  I did worry a little when the security guard started rubbing his hands up and down my body, followed by undoing my jeans, followed by the thorough examination with the metal detector; George Bush and Tony Blair have much to answer for, the Swiss gnomes even more!

I was finally cleared of any security doubts, which was nice, although I do feel sorry for the female gender when faced with an hormonally driven man on a mission.  After my experience I wouldn't find a 'bit of rough' in the slightest bit appealing.

The past 2 days have seen jet lag rear its ugly head, and I've been subject to life in 2 different time zones.  Whilst I'm often more inclined to be of muddled head leanings, often forgetting things, this past few days must rank as the highlight of my cerebral incompetence.  On my return to Germany I was met by my delightful friend Dino, who having kindly dropped me off at my place, asked me to feed and water a mutual friend's cat yesterday, which I promptly forgot.  He reminded me this morning, so the poor pussy was a bit miffed and refused to greet me when I opened the door.  I suppose the moral is 'don't forget to feed the pussy', otherwise it too throws a wobbly and hates you more than any Swiss security guard ever could!

The end of the holiday!

And so it came to pass that the holiday must end; and very reluctantly so.  Today I'll depart the USA, leaving in the darkness that I arrived in, leaving with a wonderfully warm feeling in the pit of my stomach, a heart in much better shape than when I came.  None of this will be due to the US itself, which still remains a puzzle to my sociopolitical thinking, but due to the warmth and friendship of a dearly beloved German friend, Stefan, who made this particular 'adventure' possible, and the entire month here where he 'looked after me', making the few dreams I had prior to coming possible.  Nor should I forget that all American lady of immense charm and delight, Mary, another individual I'm privileged to call a friend, but time together all too brief.  To both I offer my heartfelt thanks, and to Stefan a much bigger hug for putting up with me and my incoherence on many a amusing moment and day.

Over the next few blogs I'll give a personal insight into my time here, but all that needs saying for the moment is that I'll be returning to Germany in a much better frame of mind than when I left.  As a travel virgin, the 'deflowering' was necessary in the sense that I was able to gain a little better understanding of the moments in history that have been important to me.  Standing by the graveside of JFK, standing on the spot where Martin Luther King made his 'I have a dream' speech and so on, there's a tangible connection between the young me, events that have inspired, and events that have shaped my own thinking, whether for good or ill.

I'll leave in a few hours, some views hardened, some thoughts softened, but although the time here is still incredibly raw and fresh and I've not actually left I have the nagging sense that the USA remains totally immersed in its silverscreen identity.  Maybe a harsh thing to say, and maybe the passing of a few weeks will soften that particular thought, but for the moment it's hard to distinguish between the media driven USA and the 'real' USA.  All I can say with some certainty is that my visit has been a learning process, and if travel does broaden the mind, it also reinforces the prejudices of experience, which is a sad thought it has to be said.

There I'll leave it until the next blog entry.  Again, if I've learned nothing else during this holiday visit, the one thing I've grown to appreciate more is friendship and its acceptance of simply being 'human'.

Thanks Stefan for everything you made possible!