Another piggy back ride on the enthusiasm of others

There's a bit in the film Awakenings where an otherwise comatose lady reaches out her hand to catch a tennis ball being thrown to her by Robin Williams.  When he describes this phenomenon to the people around him, Robin (or Dr Oliver Sacks as it was in real life) explained it by saying that she was 'borrowing the will of the ball'.

Well, a lot of the time, I myself am in an apathetic stupor and I would miss things, if it wasn't for the fact that I get swept up in the enthusiasm of others.  This is my own version of borrowing the will of the ball.  Two of the main protagonists in this are Ruth and Graeme.  They've been responsible for a lot of the cycling I've done, just by infecting me with their enthusiasm, and last night they were at it again, but this time taking me in a totally different direction.

Come and see a documentary about vinyl records they said.  It will be great.  Yeah right, I thought.  I can do without that I thought, going out in the bloody cold after work.  Anyway, egged on by the prospect of pizza and coffee beforehand, they got me there.  And I'm so glad they did.

The film was called Sound it Out.  And it's about Sound it Out.  An old-fashioned record shop in Stockton, run by a man called Tom.  Although I love music, I've never really been a big fan of vinyl and it would certainly never occur to me to collect vinyl records.  In our family it was my brother who got the vinyl bug.  Up until a few years ago he had hundreds, if not thousands of vinyl records (he's got a family now, so he's sold most of them, but he does buy and sell records online as he's still pretty knowledgeable about it).

But for me, the film wasn't about the vinyl.  It was about people.  And it challenged my narrow view of the world.  My initial impression of a lot of the people featured in the film were that they were a bit weird, and not at all like me.  They were proud to make a statement about their love of music through the way they look and behave, whereas I don't do that, and I never did.  I never had posters of bands on the walls, and I never dressed like my favourite pop stars. 

As we got to know each of the people in the film, my first impressions fell away and they became fully rounded characters who all had a story to tell, and who were all ultimately likeable.  

And this impression was in no small part created by Tom himself, who treats everyone the same, whoever they are.  During the film, he had some fairly strange requests put to him by some odd looking people, but he spoke kindly to everyone and listened to what they had to say.  And knowing he was being filmed, it would have been easy for him to make some smart arse comment to camera after they'd gone out, but he didn't.  He had time for everyone  And I really liked that about him.

I've recently gone back to working in a shop myself, and I always try to speak kindly to everyone and to listen to them, however odd they might seem.  In this regard, Tom is an ideal role model, as is David, who works in there with him, and does exactly the same.  

I'm always saying that things were better in the olden days, but I don't really believe that.  What I really mean is that there are some aspects of how things used to be that I remember fondly and that I miss, and one of those things is good old-fashioned customer service.  Knowing your customers and treating them as valued individuals.  A lot of modern organisations try to train this into you.  Well, if they really want to know how it's done, they should go see Tom.  Or go see the film.  Or both.