Barbara J. Hamby

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Service Reincarnated

Some years ago I wrote a poem titled, “Service, R.I.P.” which began, “Service is dying all around us” Tonight I was heartened to read an AOL news item listing the top companies in the country for providing customer service. I think a few companies such as Nordstroms and Les Schwab Tires have never lowered their service levels, but many others have become atrocious examples by disregarding customers’ wishes altogether.
I won’t name any; I can’t afford to get sued. But they know who they are and so do we.

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The plans for the Fairfield (my maiden name) sisters’ annual reunion are finally taking shape. We plan to get together in Chico, California, where my mother and I, as well as many other relatives, were born.  A niece, who has been the catalyst of our reunions for several years, will join us there. Much as I dislike flying these days, it seems the best option for a short trip such as this. I thought the train might be fun, but it arrives and leaves Chico in the wee small hours of the morning. I don’t do those hours any more.

I’m looking forward to going back to some childhood memories. Chico is where I overate my grandma’s sour cream cookies, then left them, slightly used, in a roadside ditch. That’s another poem. I had washed them down with milk much fresher and warmer than I was accustomed to.

More later.

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