You MF'ers are the Gangsters of Teeth
Mail that Screams: Great Job!
Good Evening! I am in the process of preparing for a downtown Lansing Art Pop Up this month. It’s got me a little upside down. At least too off-kilter to write anything coherent for you.
I’ve decided to publish an older paid post from last year about praising folks for being awesome for free!
Stay Tuned…I’ll have a lot of info coming at you in the next couple weeks. A location, a short film about me, new paintings and well, that’s enough for now.
I’d love to hear what you have to say about the following story/letter.
"You motherfuckers are the straight gangsters of teeth."
This is an exact quote from a letter I recently sent to my periodontist. Sometimes, when you really need it, someone hits you with expert service so good that it makes you consider your worldview…truly stand up and notice.
I like to write letters of praise to people who make me happy. Especially those who simply perform their duties, but have an effect upon me that I cannot not shake. Snail mail. Old school shit.
You know what thrills me? Old-school service and kindness. People who do what they say they are going to do. People who smile at you before they know what you need. People who say Hi before you do. Experts who counsel you into the proper choices based upon your variables and guide you to the most favorable outcome. Folks that make you feel appreciated.
It seems everywhere you go you find frustration, today. Nobody seems to know a damn thing for certain. Most employees are too understaffed to give you the time you need. People who seem to never have spoken with a stranger, face to face. Crippled by technology...limited by legalese...anti-social...crushed by policies and computer systems that can't quite remove the human element...but try anyway.
I'm not picking on anyone specific. The world is going to shit in my perspective, and it’s not the young generation’s fault. There are no bullshit kids, only bullshit parents. When I leave the house to purchase an item or procure a service, I want to be valued by the person taking my money. I don't blame the workers...I blame the world...I blame management. Hell-there's a lot of blame to toss around. I’m not innocent either.
Illustration: The object of this transmission, a letter I wrote to my Periodontist, has to travel 70 miles from Lansing to Grand Rapids, get sorted for delivery by USPS, before traversing back to its recipient, five miles away from my home.
I'll never write a bad review...life is too short to spend any more time on the negative experiences that you already have to endure. If somebody knocks me off of my feet, though, if they smack me with some real service or knowledge...I want to smack them back twice as hard with my gratitude.
This is what I care about: Catch people doing good work.
A text message or an email won’t get the job done. Website review and Yelp? Chasing corporate metrics. When Verizon asks customers to fill out a survey about their service, you know that the world is upside down. You would have never called them if they didn't suck already.
No. I want the person or organization to hold my gratitude in their hand. I want my target, when opening the envelope, to find my commendation unfolding like a mini-wrestling ring pop-up book, Hulk-a-maniacs and all. And I am coming off the top rope near the turnbuckle with a smashing elbow of THANK YOU.
Here is the letter in question.
DocRod:
Forgive me in advance if this letter lacks the decorum usually presented transmissions of gratitude and kudos. I simply cannot, will not, allow you to miss my meaning by watering down my thought about my experience with you and your operation. Offensive, maybe? Honest, 100%.
It seems, everywhere we go in this world we find disappointment in service and acumen…people cannot do what they are trying to do, nor do they care too much about whom they are doing it for. Personally, I can’t take it. In this vein, I endeavor to communicate the relief and self confidence you have restored to my self-esteem. More importantly, you may have restored my faith in humanity, if just for a moment.
I had not been to a dentist since I was seventeen years old. I had summer teeth and butter teeth. Yes, could butter a whole loaf of bread with my bottoms alone. And well, some of the teeth are there and some aren’t. You probably know more than I do how that affects a person. My poor personal appearance was paradoxically tortured by the fear of getting it fixed or finding out how much it would hurt or how much it would cost or finding out that it could not be fixed. I finally made the decision though. Fiftieth birthdays will do that to a person. Here’s what I found out:
**You motherfuckers are the straight gangstas of teeth.**
When I entered your office, I walked into Sunshine. Is there a more aptly named personality? She is a warm hug on the worst day when you need it most. She speaks with so much joy that I question if she was born with a central nervous system. Verily, Christ speaks through her in a manner that says: you are in the right place, you’re going to be so happy when you’re done. Somehow, she removed the shame I felt in having to be in your office due to my own lazy and fearful inaction. She replaced it with smiling eyes that gave me confidence in the abilities of the whole organization. If you ever lose her, I will personally find you and fight you.
And then, Liz. I have no idea how much calcium and bone and blood and saliva that accumulate on her face every day- she probably has earfuls, but I’m sure it is way too much for her to be as professional as she is. What would you expect from the Grayling-girl-next-door, the Maryann of HR Island? She is the woman in your neighborhood that you can trust to let your dogs out when you’re on vacation and she wont judge you that your house is a shambles. Her mouth-side manner is amazing, her hand signal reading better than a Navy Seal and her demeanor picked up where Sunshine left off. Confidence giving, skillful professionally and overall bad-ass capo-regime. Gangsta.
And you, Doc. I am familiar with being an owner, manager and the talent of a business. You are already all of those things, but you already know- leaders are judged not by their person, but by their organization. If all the motherfuckers that work and act like the pros that I encountered; if all the physical areas of control in your building are as thoughtful and clean as your bathroom and your entry that I used; and if all your customers are given the joy, warmth, confidence and truly top-notch dentistry that I received; you don’t need my blessings whatsoever, you already know what matters most in this world. Don Corleone, Salut!
It is with great joy that I send this letter to you and I cannot thank you enough for the little piece of confidence you put back into my appearance and self image. Thank you Sunshine. Thank you LIz. Thank you Doc. And thanks to all the people who made it possible that I did not meet.
Ya’ll some bad, bad motherfuckers.
Jason Keusch
What does this have to do with you? How is it pertinent to Million Dollar Garage? Why should you care?
Well, I want to send letters and artsy little things to you, too.
I have 267 subscribers to MDG. So far, twelve of you are paying to support Million Dollar Garage. It only took 12 apostles to spread The Good News to the whole world. What can we do? We can do much, but we cannot do anything unless we both understand the following statement:
You beautiful bastards are the Andre the Giants of my personal wrestling ring.
I love you.
GARAGE MAINTENANCE
If you're so inclined, please provide me with your contact information and/or your mailing address here (I promise to keep it to myself):
Please share my work with your friends or folks that may be interested. No pressure!
I am trying to teach myself to ask for what I need from others.
“You miss every shot you don’t take”. - Kobe
This weekend, I’ll be posting about the plan to transform my dumpy garage into a Million Dollar Garage. Thanks to Mike for the suggestion!
BE NOT CONFORMED…
-Jason