How far we come

When my office phone rings, it's generally one of six things, in order of preference:
• Laurie, looking to have lunch;
• John (my boss), with a question;
• The control room, with a problem;
• Viewers, convinced we're putting the word "STOP" on their TV screen;
• Vendor wannabes, trying to sell toner cartridges;
• Overseas call centers, renewing my free subscription.
So you see, I answer the phone with some reluctance.

Ten minutes ago I was greeted by the magazine call center, remarkably enough a pleasant woman who speaks clear English and gets right to the point. I answered her several questions and made it to the final query:

"For verification purposes, what is the first letter of the city in which you were born?"

"S," I replied, then adding, "as in Syracuse."

A brief pause, then the quiet observation: "You don't go far, do you?"

After I stopped laughing she apologized, that she had no idea what made her say such a thing. She seemed mightily relieved when I replied that it was easily the best subscription renewal call I've ever gotten.

Good enough to bump them up the scale, edging out vendor wannabes.

Prior planning prevents...

Someone taped an ad from today's newspaper on the hallway leading to the newsroom:

THINKING ABOUT CREMATION?

Consider pre-planning.

And exactly what would the alternative be? Being cremated before you expect it?