The Customer Service Two-Step

The router/modem thingy that connects our house to DSL and the greater Interwebs was deader than vaudeville, so I had time on my hands. I called Customer Service.

First, I sat through a lot of recorded messages, occasionally pressing “1” to keep things moving along. The helpful recordings suggested I should plug it in and check the cables, but I’d already tried all that, so I just waited.

A live human eventually came on the line. She was very nice, very helpful. Though we had certain communications difficulties -- I kept referring to the router/modem thingy as “that box on my desk” -- we managed to sort it out.

She asked me the same questions about whether it’s plugged in, but I’d already tried all that. When she heard that even the “power” light wouldn’t come on, she ruled that I need a new box, which I thought was the whole point of this conversation.

Then she said, “Your modem is no longer under warranty. So a new one will be $69.”

“I don’t want to pay $69,” I said. “I already pay you people every month. Without a box, I can’t get your expensive service, which I already pay you for.”

“But the modem costs--”

“I didn’t break the box. I shouldn‘t have to pay for it..”

“Let me go talk to my manager.”

“Okey-doke.”

Several helpful recorded messages later, she came back on: “Okay, my manager says we can give you the modem for free, but you’ll need to extend your service contract by one year.”

“No, I’m not allowed to do that. My wife handles all that stuff. She’s not here.”

“Huh. Let me go talk to my manager.”

A couple of minutes of recorded messages followed, but I wasn't listening. I was playing Spider Solitaire. That part of my computer still worked.

“Okay," she said when she returned. " My manager says we can give you the modem for free and with no contract extension.”

“Free? Great. How soon will it get here?”

“Two to three business days.”

“That won’t do. I need it sooner. This is my home office. My whole business runs through that box. My wife’s business, too.”

“Let me go talk to my manager.”

A few Spider Solitaire games later, she returned: “Okay. We’ll send it overnight delivery.”

“Free shipping?”

She sighed. “All for free.”

“Perfect.”

I report this triumph of everyday life not simply to crow about it, but to remind you that you don’t have to settle for the first answer. With a little mulishness, you often can get exactly what you want.

My wife taught me that. Over the years, I’ve watched her wear down a lot of salespeople and helplines. Her favorite expression: “Can you make an exception for me?”

All it takes is patience. Dealing with Customer Service has developed into a little telephone two-step, and you have to let it run its course. I’m sure the “manager” my helpful operator consulted each time was the next line on a page of sales protocol. In between her ever-improving offers, she was probably doing her nails. Or playing Spider Solitaire.

It’s her job to go down her list and drag her feet and maybe squeeze some money or a contract extension out of the hapless, panicky customer. It’s the good consumer’s job to wait her out.

These companies know they have a lot of competition out there, and to keep customers they must let us have our way with them. Eventually.

All they ask is that we dance with them first.

Self-help yourself to a new self

Recently spied on my Internet service provider’s home page: “Best Swimsuit for Your Horoscope.”

That, ladies and gentlemen, may be the ideal headline for our times. If only they could’ve worked in the word “rehab” somewhere, it would’ve been perfect.

What in blue blazes could horoscopes have to do with bikinis? I don’t know. I tried to go to that page, but I got one of those “Error: Page Not Found” messages, which means it was busy because everyone else on the planet was looking at that page right then.

Anyway, the content doesn’t matter (and that’s another lesson for our times). What matters is the beauty of that headline, which manages to stir several of our darkest fears in a mere five words. Genius.

In women, especially, nothing stimulates the “fight or flight” response like the word “swimsuit.” Flashbacks of dressing room disasters are enough send most folks into a whinnying panic. And, oh, the horror of “horoscope,” the thought that our actions are governed by the alignment of distant stars rather than random human stumbling. As if the stars would allow us to be this messed up if they were in charge. As if they’d concern themselves with swimsuits.

We face a blizzard of self-help tips every day. Everywhere we turn -- TV, Internet, newspaper, so-called friends, every magazine under the sun -- we’re shown ways we should improve. These articles and ads and advisements become a steady drumbeat of criticism, telling us we’re too fat, unhealthy, boring, short, shy, predictable, lowbrow, high-falutin’, clumsy, drunk, fat, shallow, rude, vain, weak, small-breasted, big-boned, curly, shemp, fat, happy, grumpy, dopey, stressed-out, sleepless, fat, crazy, lazy, hazy, prone to making lists, etc.

There’s such a flurry of self-help that disparate bits of advice are bound to collide into unlikely pairings such as “Best Swimsuit for Your Horoscope.”

Here are some more possibilities:

Best Automobile for Your Cottage-Cheese Thighs

Lose Weight the Black & Decker Way

Kicking the Rehab Habit

Your Child and the All-Cabbage Diet

Best Negligee for Halftime

The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Nuns

Grapefruits and Gunpowder: The Diet With Kick

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Thumb Disease

Exercise Your Right to Make Lefts

Nude Gardening for Seniors

Oprah’s Hardware Helpline

Best Wurst for Your Waistline

Celebrity Dating Secrets and Your Front Lawn

Two Syndromes: Irritable Bowel and China

Are Obscure Movie References Right For You?

How to Stalk Paparazzi

Best Underwear for Schoolyard Wedgies

Internet Romance Cures Eczema

Gum-Cracking for Amateur Astronomers and Their Moms

The Rehab Diet: Lose 20 Pounds While Getting Some “Me Time”

Sleepwalking Through Wal-Mart Fights Heart Disease

Do-It-Yourself Plastic Surgery

Worst Pickup Lines by “Poets” Who Wear Sunglasses Indoors and Who Should Really Go to a Tanning Booth or Something. Duh.

The Tarot of Plumbing

Never Show “The Buddy Holly Story” as the In-flight Movie and Other Airline Secrets

Wok This Way: Cooking With Aerosmith

Wardrobe Tips From the Patients of Ward “B”

Bird-Watching for Dollars

Improve the Feng Shui of Your Office Environment With Sod

Lovemaking Secrets of Civil War Re-Enactors

The Summer Quilting Diet

Best Chia Pet for Your Limo

Packing to Leave: Divorce, U-Haul and a Chainsaw

What to Do If Your Date Emits Greenhouse Gases

Driving Tips From Dieting Celebrities Who Survived Ugly Divorces and Adopted Homeless Pets, All While Remodeling Kitchens in the Nude

And, finally, of course: Best Horoscope For Your Swimsuit. In Rehab.

Yuck-a-doo, it's a splut

Do you have spluts at your house?

Bet you do. You might not know it. Or, you might know spluts by another name. But you've got 'em.

Go look in the kitchen. Somewhere on that floor, no matter how recently you've mopped, there'll be a little splash-shaped sticky spot. That's a splut.

A splut begins its life as a simple drop. Juice, maybe. Spaghetti sauce. Some other substance produced by pets and/or teen-agers. Because of that old devil gravity, the substance reaches the floor, where it accumulates passing grime. Eventually, the splut becomes a noticeable smudge, growing ever blacker until somebody scrubs it away.

You won't find "splut" in the dictionary, but that's what we call those sticky spots at our house. Maybe you do, too. Or maybe you have your own word for spluts.

Families tend to accumulate made-up words like "splut" over time. Individual incidents inspire them, as do the peculiar behaviors of friends and relatives. If I said somebody "pulled an Uncle Charlie," many of you would smile and nod. Most of you would be thinking about different Charlies (presumably), but something each Charlie did slipped into the family vernacular, and it's been called an Uncle Charlie ever since.

Some families have secret languages of nonsense words, used to identify everything from favorite toys to favorite body parts. "Booboo" might mean "injury" at your house, but to your neighbors it's a bodily function and to the people across the street, it's their sweet immigrant grandma. Put these families together and say, "I gave their Booboo a booboo while she was taking a booboo," and it could mean most anything.

My family adopted "wobblywad" from a magazine. You know when a table wobbles, and you fold up a napkin or a matchbook cover and you put it under one leg to steady the table? That wadded-up leveling device is a "wobblywad."

Years ago, after a small electrical fire in the condo we rented, the landlord hired a cleaning service to get the smoke smell out of everything. The cleaning service owner took one look at our smoky home, threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, "Yuck-a-doo!"

We've used "yuck-a-doo" to respond to every gross or disgusting thing that's happened around our home since. It's gotten used a lot; we have boys.

The strangest one goes back to before we had kids, to when my wife and I lived in San Francisco. Our apartment's kitchen was small, but it was lined with more ceramic tile than the space shuttle. My wife was in the kitchen. I was around the corner, in my traditional spot, sprawled on the living room sofa.

My wife shouted something. I didn't hear her clearly, so I said, "What?" She repeated it. I still couldn't make it out. "What?"

This went on a few more times before she stalked into the living room and said, "What do you THINK I said?"

"I don't know, hon," I said, carefully. "From in here, it sounded like 'Eep-a-deep.'"

Situation defused. She fell out, laughing.

Ever since, when people yell at each other from opposite ends of the house, with resulting miscommunications, we call that "Eep-a-deep."

Only one problem: Neither of us can remember now what the original phrase was. What was she yelling from the kitchen? "Time to eat?" "Need a treat?" "Eat a beet?" "Beep a beef?"

Who knows? But "eep-a-deep" lives on.

Next week: How to clean up spluts with a "footrag."

Keep it simple, stupid

Simplicity's all the rage these days, and many lifestyle gurus urge us to simplify our lives.

We’re told we should get more exercise by walking everywhere like our simple ancestors, the hunters and gatherers. We're told we should maintain the diet of simple Mediterranean goatherds. We're told we should embrace the simplistic, old-fashioned values of South Dakotans and other primitive peoples.

Mostly, we're advised to own less stuff. All our swanky possessions and elaborate electronic gizmos drag us down, the gurus say, leading us to want more, more, more of everything, while denying us the spiritual fulfillment that comes from leading a simple life.

The experts pass along this advice in books and articles in which they try to encapsulate simplicity in catchy ways that make it appear desirable. For these efforts, they are rewarded with tons of money, which they then use to buy more stuff.

In an attempt to tear off a piece of that action, I've come up with the perfect motto for the simple life: Live every day as if you're about to go through airport security.

What better way, in our helter-skelter world, to sum up simplicity? Is there any time when we're more embarrassed and inconvenienced by our possessions? When glowering, latex-gloved security guards fondle us all over, don't we regret that Rolex? Don't we wish we'd left our rodeo belt buckle at home?

At airport security, we're stripped down to nothing but clothes and sock-feet. As our inconvenient stuff goes through the X-ray machine, aren't we given the perfect moment to examine modern life and its complexity?

Ask yourself: Why do I go around with my pockets full and my briefcase bulging and my personal digital assistant surgically grafted to my hand? Why can I not live, even for a few hours, without e-mail or a cell phone? Why do I need so danged many keys?

Use the Airport Security Simplicity model to get back to basics. Limit jewelry and the stuff you carry in your pockets to items that will fit in that little plastic cereal bowl they give you at airport security. Briefcases and other life baggage should be limited to two carry-ons -- one that would fit in an overhead bin and a personal item such as a purse or laptop computer.

(You might want to eliminate shoes altogether. Why hassle with them? Flip-flops, baby, flip-flops.)

I reached this epiphany only recently, when I realized that I'd simplified my life to the point where I can prance right through airport metal detectors. Because I work at home, I've eliminated from my repertoire most of the stuff that regular folks carry around. In my pockets, I'm down to two keys, a wallet and a comb. My wristwatch, with its leather band and fake gold case, doesn't set off alarms. Neither do the cheap plastic ballpoints I favor.

You can't get much more simple than I am. Wait, what I mean to say is: Your life can't get much simpler than mine. I've streamlined and jettisoned and simplified to the point where I go out into the world (or at least into airports) all but naked of material things. Guys entering prison carry more stuff than I do.

This should qualify me as a lifestyle guru, one who has fully embraced the simplicity trend. I plan to sit back now and wait for the riches to come my way.

Then I'm going shopping. I need some stuff.

Inconvenient truths

My family was dining at a poolside café during a recent vacation when I noticed this extremely small print on the menu: "For your convenience, an 18 percent gratuity will be added to your check."

This chapped me. It wasn't the amount; I often tip 20 percent without batting an eye. Wasn't even the audacity of it, though it always rankles when restaurants presume that customers are tightwads who won't tip unless forced.

No, what griped me was the phrase "for your convenience." What's "convenient" about having an 18 percent gratuity sneaked onto your bill? Did the restaurant management think we customers would say: "Ah, they've included the tip! How convenient! Now I won't have to judge the service for myself or do any complicated math!"

Maybe, since it was a poolside café, they thought we'd all go mad, spinning around, trying to find tip money in our pocket-free swimsuits. Or, that we'd be too sunstroked to understand the subtle hints (greedy leers, reaching hands, dripping saliva) the waitstaff was throwing our way.

"For your convenience" is just another example of lame marketing spin. Corporate America takes us all for saps, and they think we'll fall for anything if it's labeled "convenient." This is the same reason that every bright-colored product package is splashed with words like "new!" or "improved!" or "easy-to-open!" when none of those things are true.

Any time you encounter the phrase "for your convenience," doesn't it really mean terribly inconvenient? "For your convenience, direct questions about this product to our corporate call center in Albania, between the hours of 4 a.m. and 6 a.m. on alternate Thursdays."

(If you read or hear "for your safety and convenience," look out. That usually means inconvenient and dangerous. For example, they always say on airplanes that your seatbelt should stay securely fastened "for your safety and convenience," when what they mean is: "We'd prefer that you be strapped into your seat, screaming, when the plane goes down in flames.")

When you encounter "for your convenience," it usually means something that's convenient and/or profitable for the corporation in question, not the consumer. "For your convenience, this automated teller machine accepts all debit cards for a charge of only $3 per transaction."

Or, the phrase is connected to a warning mandated by the corporate attorneys: "For your safety and convenience, do not ingest this product while operating heavy machinery near kindergartens."

Occasionally, the phrase is used to convey the message that you, the customer, are an idiot: "For your convenience, these hot dogs contain no actual dog. Enjoy!"

While it appears that companies are misusing the term "convenience," a little research finds mitigating circumstances, right in the roots of the word.

"Convenience," it turns out, comes from the Latin conve or "pay" and nience, which means "through the nose." Strictly speaking, the corporate spin doctors often use the term properly.

This usage explains the term "24-hour convenience store." At these small markets, you can "pay through the nose" anytime of the day or night for the same products available elsewhere for less.

Unless it's a much longer drive to the nearest supermarket, convenience stores don't make any sense. Many supermarkets are open 24 hours now, in case you get the midnight munchies, and most have "express lanes" where you can get checked out as quickly as you would at a convenience store.

Come to think of it, the only difference is that you have to walk farther in the aisles of a regular supermarket to get your midnight gallon of ice cream. If you're buying fattening food at midnight, you probably ought to be doing more walking.

For your safety and convenience.

Make Your Acronyms Simplify Situations (MYASS)

From ASAP to TGIF, acronyms infiltrate every aspect of corporate life, providing a handy shorthand for those who are ITK (In The Know).

Acronym use exploded as computerspeak began to crop up in everyday conversation. When you hear people say LOL (Laughing Out Loud) rather than actually, well, laughing out loud, then you know the Era of Acronyms has reached its peak.

How long before we incorporate acronyms into our speech at home? Lord knows we could use some kind of shorthand when it comes to conversing with our children.

Wouldn't it save a lot of breath if a parent could just yell GOAP (Go Outside And Play) rather than spelling it out 27 times a day? The same goes for CUBY (Clean Up Behind Yourselves) and -- my personal favorite -- DILLYM (Do I Look Like Your Maid?).

Acronyms save steps. Instead of racing to referee every spat, parents could simply yell code words: WHIT (What's Happening In There?) and WICAW (Who Is Crying And Why?). KAMU (Kiss And Make Up) works on small children. For teens, you might need DYMMCAP (Don't You Make Me Call A Policeman).

Parents can use acronyms to signal their moods and needs to the children. They can tell the kids to GAB (Gimme A Break) or even GAINT (Go Away; I Need to Think). When it's really tense, parents can warn that they're close to SMOHO (Snatching My Own Hair Out).

When a kid complains there's NOTV (Nothing On Television), parents should respond with RABYD (Read A Book, You Dolt).

At our house, my two sons regularly pray for relief from the GODS (Grumpy Ole Dad Syndrome). They know that when it's been a DADAW (Darned Awful Day At Work), they should RAH (Run And Hide).

When parents desire privacy, they can tell the kids to LTD (Lock The Door) because MADNAM (Mom And Dad Need A Moment).

Every afternoon, housebound parents could make use of ACHOO (All Children Hush; Oprah's On).

Kitchen bulletin boards could use acronyms to communicate housekeeping messages to the whole family. Some examples:

--LUWD (Laundry Undone; Wear Dirty)
--WITMASO (Why Is The Milk Always Sitting Out?)
--TOC/FOYO (Tired Of Cooking/Forage On Your Own)
--OBIP (Oh Boy, It's Payday)
--LEO (Let's Eat Out)

Acronyms are perfect for everyday frustrations.

SACCK (Spilled Another Coffee; Computer Kaput) says it all, doesn't it? When things go really wrong, try ICTOW (Infuriating Computer Thrown Out Window).

NAPPP (Not Another Pesky Plumbing Problem) is naturally followed by PYECHART (Plug Your Ears, Children, or Hear An R-rated Tirade).

BID (Bike In Driveway) serves as a warning. When it's already too late, try ROBS (Ran Over Bike. Sorry).

Greet bill collectors with NOTATA (Not At This Address; Try Argentina). Eviction notices could be shortened to four letters: PROM (Pay Rent Or Move).

Lazy neighbors get this note: FYLOFLA (Fix Your Lawn Or Face Legal Action). And put this one under a windshield wiper -- TOOPSI (Take Only One Parking Space, Idiot).

Acronyms are especially useful when discussing finances. For example, kids apparently think MOM means Made Of Money. And DAD stands for Debts Accruing Daily. But did you know MONEY means More Overtime Necessary Every Year? Financial troubles might make you WOMEN (Worry Over Money Every Night) or even desperate enough to JOB (Jump Off Bridge), but take heart: ICACMO (It's Cheaper After Children Move Out).

Well, I'm OOS (Out Of Space), which means I get to retire to the sofa now for some TV.

ACHOO.

By the numbers

Many of us who work at home feel we must constantly prove our worth, especially to our spouses who have real jobs.

On a rational level, we know our spouses appreciate the work we do around the house and the daily struggle of our home-based careers and the importance of having a parent home with the kids. But there's a deeper emotional need to make them believe we're working really, really hard here at home and not goofing off all day, as some might suspect.

A simple question in the evening -- "How was your day?" -- stirs a regular corporate report from us work-at-home types. We reel off the numbers: clients served, phone calls made, miles driven, hours spent on chores, etc.

Surely, this isn't what the spouse wants to hear, but we feel compelled to recite these dry business statistics, just to prove we didn't spend the day watching reruns of "The Newlywed Game."

Wouldn't it be easier if we had a standard Daily Progress Report? We could fill in a few blanks, then just hand it over when the spouse arrives home. That would get all the numbers out of the way, clearing the evening for in-depth discussions of other matters, such as what to watch on TV.

Here's a sample of such a report. Feel free to make copies for your own use.

DAILY PROGRESS REPORT

It's been yet another productive day here at corporate headquarters. For the benefit of spouses and other shareholders, we've compiled the following executive summary to show where this household's been and where it's going.

Earnings: Actual earnings from the home-based business were ___ today. However, future earnings look good because ___ clients promised "the check is in the mail."

Debts: New debts accrued today were ___. We had a one-time writeoff against income of ___ because of (circle one or more) medical/dental/plumbing/automotive emergencies. Also, we had the regular business expense of ___ for groceries to feed these damn kids.

Productivity/Corporate: In a very busy day, we here at headquarters made ___ important business calls, signed ___ new contracts, spent ___ hours on developing new projects and ___ hours on ongoing projects. On the down side, ___ hours were wasted playing computer games.

Productivity/Household: The following chores were completed: ___ loads of laundry, ___ meals prepared, ___ rooms cleaned, ___ toilets scrubbed, ___ hours of lawn care, and ___ miles driven. More would've been accomplished in this sector, but the children demanded ___ hours of attention.

Performance of future assets: Today, ___ of our children were expelled or suspended from school, ___ misbehaved and ___ refused to help around the house. It may be time for the shareholders to face down this challenge with a united front, before the children launch a hostile takeover bid. On the plus side, ___ children achieved Honor Roll or similar accomplishment. See addendum.

Growth potential: It's difficult to see into the future, but we believe there's room for growth, both on the corporate and household fronts. For the home-based business, there's nowhere to go but up! As for the household balance sheet, please remember: It is only ___ years until the children move away, taking with them a large drain on our resources. By then, we will have ___ years until age 65, so we'll need to save ___ per year to compile enough assets for a retirement that doesn't center on cat food. Which means we'd better see some growth. In a hurry.

Immediate projections: We here at headquarters feel confident that tomorrow will be a better day, with an increase in earnings and an overall rise in productivity.

And we'll have the numbers to prove it.

Meeting expectations

It's a common notion in the business world that "nothing gets accomplished in meetings," but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Plenty occurs in your typical business meeting. In particular, careers are ruined because participants don't know how to play the game.

No matter what your field, you eventually will be expected to "take a meeting" with your superiors or co-workers or clients. Somewhere, I'm sure, lumberjacks are forced to sit around a long table and analyze performance and profit ratios.

(Even we lowly workers who toil in home offices occasionally are summoned to headquarters or forced to pitch our ideas to customers. We tend to be ineffective in meetings because we're accustomed to working alone, muttering and cursing and wearing coffee-stained sweatpants.)

The key to a successful business meeting is to be prepared. You must know your material and how best to project it. You must know the participants and what they expect. You must make sure you don't have spinach stuck in your front teeth.

All the etiquette lessons your mother tried to teach you apply to business meetings. Since you didn't listen to your mother any more than you currently heed your boss, let's review:

--Mind your manners. Common courtesy is expected at business meetings. Don't talk over other people, no matter how slow and befuddled they seem. Don't shoot rubber bands at co-workers. Don't chew gum while meeting with a client, and never, ever stick the chewed gum to the underside of his desk.

--Know your audience and what connections lie behind the scenes. Do some research, so you know which client is a slack-jawed idiot and which ones simply look like slack-jawed idiots. Dogpile-on-the-boss'-nephew almost never works. And, how many salesmen have been ruined by referring to competitors as "Satan's spawn," only to learn the customer is married to one of those competitors?

--Avoid sweeping generalizations. For instance, don't say "golf is for morons" until you find out your client's handicap.

--Don't hog the conversation. Nobody likes a know-it-all. Give others a chance to dig their own holes of ignominy. (Note: When you witness a colleague sink his career in a meeting, it's considered impolite to snort-laugh.)

--Pay attention. No matter how long-winded your boss or how unproductive a meeting seems, it's always bad form to start leafing through magazines. Just like in school, the teacher always calls on the student who's staring out the window.

--Know the terminology. You won't make a good impression using terms like "gizmo" and "widget" unless you work for Universal Gizmos and Widgets, Inc.

--Dress appropriately. At one time, the traditional business suit was the correct uniform for all meetings. No more. Part of knowing your audience is knowing how they dress. Hollywood types, for instance, tend to dress like carpenters. Computer engineers go for the "surfer/nerd" look. If you wear a business suit to a meeting with software geeks, they will sneer and flick pizza on you.

--Be careful with jokes. "Two drunks walk into a bar…" may not seem funny to a client who's active in Alcoholics Anonymous.

--Make suggestions. If you sit silent as a stump through every meeting, co-workers will start treating you like a stump. Or, worse, the way dogs treat a stump.

--Be prepared to back down. Don't insist that your idea is the only workable one or that the boss is stupid to ignore you. Wait until you're out of the meeting, then say those things in the "safety zone" behind your manager's back.

--Stay awake. No matter what.

If you follow these simple rules, you, too, can be effective in business meetings and go on to have a successful career. Particularly if you're the boss' nephew.

Keeping one's balls in the air

Sometimes, the business community embraces a new concept and promotes it so fiercely that it becomes accepted practice nationwide.

Take, for example, the cellular phone. Before everyone had phones in their pockets, there were times when employees actually "couldn't be reached." Bosses, who like to keep tabs on you at all times, loved the cell phone. Employees went along. Suddenly, you're nobody if you're not yakking on the danged thing all the ding-dong day.

These days, the darling of the business community is "multi-tasking." A boss hears the term "multi-tasking" and he clutches his bosom and big, happy tears well up in his eyes. He loves "multi-tasking" because he thinks it means more work is getting done.

Before "multi-tasking" came along, bosses expected you to do every job they dumped on your desk. Now, they expect to you to do all those jobs at the same time.

Every employee now is supposed to be like a street entertainer, a One-Man Band, the guy with the bass drum on his back and the cymbals between his knees. Employees manage all the projects and production and publicity all at once, playing the music, keeping time to a beat in their heads: "Hurry, hurry, hurry."

Employees -- with their Palm Pilots and their miniature phones and their go-go attitudes -- adopted "multi-tasking" as a way to get ahead. It soon became a competition, everybody rushing headlong into doing everything at once. Phoning and PowerPointing and prognosticating and whanging away at those cymbals with their knees. Before long, you'd become a second-rate employee if you couldn't dial a phone with your toes.

But is this the best way to get high-quality work? Aren't employees all scattered and confused? Shouldn't they concentrate on one thing at a time? Shouldn't there be some time during the week when they "couldn't be reached?"

For answers, bosses should look to those who are the ultimate "multi-taskers," people who work at home offices. Not only do we do our work and manage our careers here at home, we also do the housework and the yardwork and tend to children, all at the same time.

We're the pioneers in "multi-tasking," the white lab rats in a great business experiment. And we're never "off the clock." A kid throws up in the middle of the night, he doesn't need a cell phone to contact Daddy.

The other day, I had a light workday scheduled. My only big job was to print a 350-word manuscript and mail it off. The rest was just housework, hanging out with my two sons, and a few errands in the car.

Before my sons were awake, I started printing the manuscript. My printer needs to be fed more paper about every ten minutes, so I'm forced to hang around, waiting for it to make that groaning noise that means it's hungry. I could've used those hours for some quiet meditation, some navel-gazing about my career, but I chose instead to "multi-task." Here's how it went:

Feed the printer. Wander around the house gathering up laundry. Get the washer started. Feed the printer. Get more coffee. Take out the trash. Feed the printer. Check freezer, see whether there's anything that can be disguised as a nutritious dinner. Start grocery list. Feed the printer. Straighten kitchen and hurriedly wipe off countertops. Feed the printer. Move laundry from washer to dryer and start a new load. Feed the printer. Make two work-related telephone calls. Feed the printer. Wake children. Issue breakfast instructions. Feed the printer. Feed the dog. Feed the printer. Collapse into chair to catch breath. Feed the printer.

By the time the manuscript was done, I'd accomplished much, but I was scattered and confused and required a nap in early afternoon.

So, bosses everywhere, take it from us busy housespouses: "multi-tasking" may not be the best solution. It wears people out, and an exhausted, frazzled worker is an accident waiting to happen. You might be better off treating each employee less like a One-Man Band and more like a member of an orchestra. Let each play the lead sometimes, but let them rest sometimes, too.

Otherwise, you'll find your employees dialing phones in their sleep. With their toes.

More acronyms? WTF?

We who work at home can become distanced from the rhetoric of business, the everyday shorthand that infects most offices.

At-home workers who fail to recognize the hot terms or sprinkle them into office communications will be marked as incompetent outsiders, employees who are OOTL, or "Out Of The Loop."

I use that real-life business expression to demonstrate the most important part of speech in the corporate world -- the acronym.

Yes, acronyms are all the rage. From NIMBY to BYOB, and all points in between, acronyms adorn the conversations of those who are ITK, or "In The Know." Newspaper financial pages are more elaborate and detailed than ever before, and they're chock-full of acronyms. Everybody's paying attention to the economy because we all invested our retirement funds in IPOs, or "Idiots Purchasing Obsolescence."

CEOs ("Can't Explain Overruns") want employees and freelancers who know the lingo. If you want to stay current in your field or, more importantly, want to keep working at home, you must prove you know your ASAP from a hole in the ground.

But, you whine, how can I find time to learn all my acronyms? I'm too busy doing actual work to waste hours cramming my head full of alphabet soup.

Fear not. The Home Front is here to serve. What follows is a dictionary of acronyms, carefully gleaned from e-mail, business correspondence, financial magazines, newspapers and various other documents found here on my desk. You may have seen such lists before, but we can all use a refresher. Current jargon is always changing, and sometimes acronyms have come to mean something new. You want to be up to date.

ASAP: Act Stupid And Procrastinate.

SASE: Scan and Snub Expeditiously.

FAX: Fetch And Xerox.

TELEX: Troglodytes Employing Lost Era's Xerox.

HWHAP: Houston, We Have A Problem.

NASA: No Assigned Space for Amateurs.

NYSE: New York. Suckers Enticed.

S&P: Staggered & Poorer.

NASDAQ: Need A Second DAiQuiri.

DOW: Death Out Window.

WTC: Whew, Trouble Coming.

SBA: Sorry, Bub. Attrition.

GNP: Gosh, No Payroll.

MBO: Mumbling 'Bout Opportunity.

INC: Investors Need Cash.

LTD: Limo To Debt. A luxury car manufactured by FORD (Fix Or Recall Daily).

GM: Gradual Misery.

PG&E: Pure Greed & Exit.

IBM: I've Been Moody.

ATT: Atomized To Telebabies.

MS: See ATT.

NYUK: Not Your Usual Kackle. (Said three times in a row.)

ALAN (Greenspan): Ambivalence Lends Anxiety Nationwide.

UN: Unlikely Notions.

CFO: Can't Find Overruns.

DOT-COM: Dang, Orphan Time. Career Opportunist on Market.

RSVP: Reassigned. Send Vintage Pinot.

BYOB: Bad Year. Out of Booze.

NIMBY: No, I Mean Bleep You.

TV: Terrible Violence.

T&A: Titilliate & Assail.

CSPAN: Congress Snoozes Peacefully At Naptime.

CNN: Controlled News Narcotic.

ESPN: Exceedingly Stupid Playoff Nattering.

AM: Airheads Muttering.

FM: Foghat Mucho.

MSG: Might Sneeze Gallons.

FDIC: Funds? Duck Into Casinos.

OSHA: Ouch, Sure Hurts. Actionable.

USDA: Unsick Steers. Deny Anxiety.

USFS: Un-Safe Fire-Starters.

IRS: Intentionally Relaxed Stance.

INS: Inciting Neighbors to Sneak.

FAA: Forget About Arrival.

CTS: Can't Type. Suing.

DOS: Dummies' Option -- Suicide.

SPAM: Sex Pitches And Misrepresentations.

BTW: Bored To Writhing.

IMHO: I May Have to Orate.

LOL: Losing Our Lunches.

ALT: Alas, Locked Terminal.

DEL: Despair, Entry Lost.

ESC: End Silly Column.