The Perfect Song Blog

This is a step-by-step account of trying to order wood pellets (which you burn in a wood pellet stove) from our local Lowe’s.

It’s important to note that I’m not making up any of this.

STEP 1

My wife, Leigh, goes over to Lowe’s and talks with the sales guy in the department. She wants to know what the best brand is. He recommends two — Nature’s Own and xxxxx.

She buys a bag of each and we burn them. We decide on Nature’s Own.

STEP 2

I drive over on Saturday and order six tons of Nature’s Own wood pellets. The sales lady has been there for years and is very efficient. I hand her the paper on which I’ve written “Nature’s Own.”

She copies it down on the order. I tell her we want them delivered on Thursday. I’ve re-arranged my office schedule to take the day off to load the 300 bags into the cellar.

STEP 3

The next morning, the delivery truck arrives. I go out and meet the driver. “They were supposed to be delivered Thursday,” I tell him. He apologizes and says he was told to deliver them today. Since he has a little fork lift I ask him (which Leigh wisely suggested) if he can carry them around back, thus saving us having to load them into our trailer, drive them around and unload them. He walks around the house and surveys things. Sure, he says. Each pallet is wrapped in black plastic to protect the bags.

The driver unloads them all around the back of the house. Leigh and I are ecstatic.

Nathan and his girlfriend, Danielle, come up to help and we start carrying the 40 pound bags into the cellar and stacking them.

Leigh comes out. “Oh no!” We all stop. It is not good when Leigh yells “Oh No!”

People tend to freeze in position.

“That’s the wrong brand! That’s not Nature’s Own. We had this brand before and the pellets didn’t burn. I won’t accept those.” She goes into the house to call Lowe’s. We silently put the bags back on the pallet.

Step 4

She calls the manager who apologizes and says they’ll come and get the bags and replace them with the correct ones. “Thursday,” she says. “It has to be Thursday.” He says that’s fine.

A few hours later the delivery guy returns with a new load of six tons of bags.

“They’re supposed to be delivered Thursday,” Leigh says.

The delivery man shrugs helplessly. Leigh looks at bags. “They’re still not the right ones! It’s not Nature’s Own!”

The delivery man apologizes. “I’ll take them back. I don’t understand what’s going on but our policy is that the customer has to be satisfied.”

Step 5

That afternoon the manager calls. I answered the phone. “I’m just checking to make sure that you got your delivery.”

“No. You delivered the wrong brand, again.” We went through it. “It’s Nature’s Own,” I say for the 20th time.

“And you wanted four tons.”

“No. Six tons.”

Oh. Six tons. Okay. We’ll have that delivered Tuesday.”

“Thursday!”

“Yes, okay. Thursday. My apologies for the confusion.”

Step 6

On Monday morning Leigh and I leave for Meadville, PA where I am to give a presentation at Allegheny College.

On Tuesday, Nathan calls while we we’re getting gas and a hot dog at a convenient mart before heading back home. “The manager called me and said they don’t have Nature’s Own,” he says. “I told him you went over and talked with the sales guy and saw them and brought a bag of them home to test them. Fifteen minutes later he called and said, yes they do carry them and apologized for the confusion.
Half hour later the same deliver man brings the pellets.
Nature’s Own. It was Tuesday, not Thursday, but after four tries, they have gotten it right.
Lowe’s slogan is “Let’s Build Something Together.”
That’s cool. Just don’t deliver the materials.

I mentioned in my last blog that I spent an hour with my son, Nathan in the Barnes & Noble cafe.  He pointed out that I hadn’t written anything on my blog in a long time.  The observation stayed with me and shook me out of my self-imposed writer’s block.  He said something else that made me think.  “I don’t know how you keep up the energy to do two blogs plus all the other stuff you do.”

I thought about that all day in relation to little writing I’ve done lately.

First, I don’t often get writer’s block. I don’t believe in it.  But I do run out of energy and when that happens I’m not as in tune with things around me.  I’m not observant and therefore wind up with little to say.

I do think that on a regular basis the creative well runs dry and when it does, I don’t waste time fretting about it. I think if you force yourself to do one thing too much, you drive it into the ground.  You get as stale as old coffee grinds, and creatively just as useless.

So, when the writing isn’t coming I do other things — read, play with the dogs, take pictures, study sound recording.   All the while, the “writer” is on a fishing trip, half asleep, listening to the chickadees in the trees above and the lapping creek water below.

Sometimes I just study the clouds and marvel at the huge work of art above me that changes every second and is always perfect.

I clip my Dwarf Japanese Juniper and study the shape of its trunk and the branches and visualize how I want them to grow.

Creative energy quietly flows in and when the time is right, when the right feeling is felt, or something is said in a conversation, the energy, words and thoughts start flowing again.

I’m sitting in Barnes & Noble Cafe with my son, Nathan, sipping Chinese Flower tea which has a delicate aroma and flavor. He’s drinking a latte which is too sweet and strong for me. We talk about the pros and cons of Facebook and Myspace. He likes Myspace. I like Facebook, though I don’t use it much.

“I went to your blog site and you haven’t posted anything in a long time,” he says.

I nod.

When September hits at Mansfield University where I’m the PR director, my life isn’t my own. Watching school open is like staring at an oncoming train rushing forward at 80 mph. I reach out, grab it and hang on for dear life and get dropped off the following May. One of the most time consuming things for me is the Fabulous 1890s Weekend, which I cochair. The first night football game in the world was played at Mansfield by Mansfield University in downtown on September 28, 1892.

The event was lit by General Electric which was then six months old. When I found this out in 1990, I contacted GE officials and told them they lit the first night football game. They didn’t believe me. Later they called me back and said I was right. We worked together for the next two years. GE produced a very lavish and expensive commercial about their role in night football. Mansfield University nearly disappeared in all the edits, but we did get a mention at the beginning of the spot.

We’re also celebrating the 150th anniversary of the university and the borough. I’m one of the cochairs. Coordinating all the events, the website, and publishing two books has also taken a lot of time.

And I’m creating a five-year strategic marketing plan.

So,for the first time in a long time other things got in the way of my blog.

Nathan brought me back to blog reality.

Thanks, son.