I married a Maven!

There we were, MaRea, her friend, three or four giddy kids, and me. The line into Lego Land wasn't very long, but my "theme park anxiety" was growing. On occasion I experience an uneasy feeling when we pass through a ticket counter, register or checkout line. This was one of those occasions. At this point MaRea, who never gets that feeling, was shining with pride, because her plan for half price entrance was seconds away from fruition. Then without any warning she approaches couple with two small kids and offers them the remaining spots in our coupons. After a short explanation to the confused teenager behind the glass, all ten of us enter the park for the price of five. Her triumph will live forever in Hess family history.

This story has many versions with MaRea, unfortunately I don't remember them, but she will. Also if you asked her about, her shampoo deal, her washer and dryer, her Iphones, her Progresso soup, her Toaster Strudels . . . (you get the point), she'd have an equally amazing story about the price, location, effort and result of the deal. One time we bought $600 of groceries for less than $30, (I'm sure she'll correct my numbers later). Most of you already know this about MaRea, but what amazed me was last night about 11:30pm I finally put a name to her obsession.

She is a "Marketplace Maven." I read this term in Malcom Gladwell's book "The Tipping Point." He describes a Maven as an "information broker" or someone who is "almost pathologically helpful." There you have it, that's my wife, "pathologically helpful." She can't help it. She can't allow someone to overpay or get less than they should. She will speak up, she will email, call, text or even come to your house if necessary to share her information.

At times I wondered if this ever annoys people, but after reading Gladwell's description I've realized a greater appreciation for MaRea. She never gives her advice or help expecting anything in return. This is not about her feeling good. It is about helping everyone else. If you ask her how much should I pay for this (any arbitrary item) she will either tell you, or spend her first available time on the internet finding out. I have many times sat by as she has helped someone who didn't seem interested in her help. It didn't matter. She always tries to help open other's eyes to the deals she finds, even if that person is extremely wealthy. Even the rich need a deal.

I know everyone of you at one point have benefitted from her efforts. Just take a minute and think, it may have been a while ago or maybe you weren't interested, but if you try hard enough I guarantee that you all can think of at least one thing she has told you, showed you, or done for that has saved you a lot of money, time or effort. I urge you not to take our own "marketplace maven" for granted. If you do not seek her help or knowledge she will hunt you down and give it to you, because it WILL be of benefit. And next time she calls you with a deal, you'd better take it seriously or else she'll find someone that will. If you feel like it, take a moment and share how she has helped you. I would share mine, but it'd be too long.

So to my beloved Maven, thanks for all you do for us. We know it costs you sleepless nights and anxiety, but we are grateful and we will continue to seek your counsel, for surely there is wisdom to be had.

Day 6

I met John today at lunch. He is from Arizona and because of his father's residence in the state, chose to come here. There seemed to be some obvious parental issues that I would have liked to discuss, but felt a little too uncomfortable. Our conversation could have lasted longer, but I didn't quite feel the motivation to continue.

Though I am meeting/making new friends this challenge has a second (maybe more important) goal, which is to help overcome my fear/inability to befriend or converse with anyone. I need to push myself to gain real gratification. I need to talk with people less like myself. I need to involve myself in things I don't really do so I can be around people I normally wouldn't. At this very moment this seems very undesirable, but I think it may help. I also think I need to learn a few basic principle in how to make people like me.

Day 5: Second Wal-Mart associate

Dallas was lounging in the electronic area of Wal-Mart and of course I asked him about a camera and we quickly began discussing his broken arm which he sustained playing ice hockey.  He had just graduated high school and still needing to fill burning desire for competition he is playing with a semi-semi-pro hockey league.  He likes hockey and mentioned about three different prices for tickets and sponsors.  He is a nice kid, young and excited to remove his ignore doctors rules and remove his cast 3 weeks early.  I guess if you really like something there is little that will get in your way.

Day 4: Is anyone sitting here?

As I work up to the ever awkward question, Can I join you, I'm learning that some people are much easier for me to approach.  I saw Billy sitting alone at a row of three tables and asked the question posed in the title.  Without fanfare he responded "no" and I sat.  He was finishing a rice bowl and with no books or computer I could easily provide the distraction.  He is very similar to me, (except for physical size) which made him easy to talk to.    He is in his sophomore year studying electrical engineering.  He works for some technology firm as a repair technician and is completely involved in electronics.  He went to Brazil (the southern, cold part) on a "mission for [his] church" and is now trying to regain his educational footing.  Billy was very easy to talk to and as he left he asked for my name for a second time.  Maybe he was glad to make a new friend too.

I can draw some pretty vague conclusions so far,

1.  The earlier in the day I meet someone, the less stressful the day is.  Procrastinating it only causes anxiety and doubt.

2.  As I can approach some people easily, it might take a few days to meet those people I find intimidating.  I'm sure we find different types of people intimidating.  My goal of this project is to overcome these fears completely, so that means one day I will have to make conversation with anyone from the mean looking arrogant guy in the jacked up truck, the cocky basketball player with low riding pants, or even the "hot chick" (don't get excited there's only one hot chick for me, and we've been married for 5 years) who seems oblivious to anyone without an extensive list of zeros at the end of their paycheck.

Benson

After dropping the garbage on the road I made the 5 min trip in to our new Wal-Mart.  This is highly unusual for me on a Sunday as I try not to shop.  I entered the store feeling like a hunter prowling the mountain hills for the trophy buck.  For me hunting is much easier, except for the random possibility of blowing your foot off.  This type of grocery store trip will be a constant and I'm sure a year from now I will probably be good friends with all the local associates.  The garden center seemed quiet, so I approached for an ambush.  And I did just that when I found Benson rearranging some shelves.

Benson is a 6 foot 2 mildly round college white student who began working at this Wal-Mart when it first opened. And yes he worked as a greeter (which I learned they have a two fold mission, say hi to people and help deter any would be thieves).  He grimaced as he described the 8 hour days spent standing at the entrance, but don't worry he did get an hour lunch and 2 fifteen minute breaks.  He's been promoted to the fly fishing desk, where he doesn't do much all day, but at least he gets to sit (and read).  Benson has spent the last two years as a senior in physics and seems to actually like it.  It turns out he studies in the building where I work at the university.  He's a bit jaded about our community and mentioned some "things" that happened which are driving him to get out.  I almost asked (I know completely none of my business) what they were, but gathered myself before looking like a massive idiot.

I never would have given Benson a second look, but today when I saw him by himself looking unoccupied, he became the most important person in my life.  I absolutely had to get to know him.  I followed him back and forth for a few minutes, asking stupid questions about his responsibilities, until he stopped and offered his full attention.  Three days down and three new friends, this isn't so bad afterall.

Day 2: Nelson and Merci

Yesterday's friend was supposed to come easy, but of course that will probably never be true.  It wasn't until 9 at night that I met Nelson.  He and his wife run a small Mexican/Salvadorian restaurant that we have frequented a couple of times.  When the idea was mentioned to go there I was less than enthusiastic, but knowing that it would provide a good opportunity I gave it a chance.

Nelson (age 45) spent his first 15 years in El Salvador.  At age 13, when his father discovered that he was playing soccer instead of attending school, he was ordered to either go to school, get a job, or move out. He chose to get a job and from that young age he became an adult.  He was marriage at age 15 and moved to the U.S. that same year.  In California he drove truck for 27 years, then after growing tired of the quickly expanding town they lived in they opted for a move to our home town.  There his wife and him have run the restaurant for the last year and half.  Nelson was quick to inform us that he had only spanked one of his boys twice.  Once was after he was caught with weed in junior high school (his wife was quick to inform us that the outburst qualified more as a beating than spanking).  He said weed was not an issue after that.  They have 

6 grandchildren. 

Day 1: Ramon

Remember your first day of school? You walk in the doors and immediately your head begins bouncing and twisting like a bobble head attached to the dash of a cheap taxi. If you got lucky you'd find somebody and with the determination of a bull charging its target you put your head down and move. Nothing else mattered; you had to gather your emotions under the umbrella provided only by a familiar face. Once within verbal range of your shield school wasn't so bad. Until the bell for class rung, and it all began again.

Today I felt like I had just walked into a brand new school in a brand new city where no one knows my name (or at least how I would image that would feel since I never moved as a kid). My outlook on the day had changed. I was no longer apathetic to the strangers around me even though they were to me. I looked for opportunities to say hi, but none arose (i.e. I was too afraid and I knew it). I read my book at lunch in the cafeteria deciding which of the 25 or so lone diners I could talk to, but incapacitated by fear did nothing. It wasn't until a quick soda run I decided to go for it.

I met Ramon at the journal desk in the university library. It was an easy trap; after all it's his job to talk, right. Ramon stands about 6'2" and at first sight I thought he was Arabic, but I quickly found out he's from the Dominican Republic (you know what they say about assumptions; I'll have to work on that). He came here on a scholarship and actually said that he is looking forward to the snow. He has a grandma in Boston, but the rest of his family is still in the Dominican. I found out that his father spent some time in Venezuela, but I never found out why. He is working on his MBA and was actually not disgusted when I told him I was a statistician. I wish I would have spent more time with Ramon, but I became nervous of occupying too much of his time. I'll stop by another day and continue our conversation, because I might want to get some good tips for the next time I travel to his home country.

Craziness: As I was looking for my project guess who's I found? My Mom's Masters thesis from 1970. It was very surreal.