The human side of business

Big Brands

Lego.

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Superfans / employees / customer service hero’s.

Wouldn’t you know it that just days after posting about uninspired environments (see Malls), I had a rather wonderful experience inside of just such a place.

My youngest daughter is healthily obsessed with Lego, especially their collection designed for the younger (seemingly female) set, called Lego Friends. I mean healthy because she wakes up early to do Lego, she goes to bed thinking about Lego, she asks for sets by name for every occasion or holiday – and when she’s in the middle of a build – nothing can get in her way.

On a recent Saturday, we found ourselves sans schedule – and she asked if we could super pretty please go to the Lego store…at the mall. Normally, I might invent any excuse to avoid this excursion, but the day was unusually open – I could make her really happy – and she wanted to buy herself a birthday present with money saved from her allowance. So, game on.

The last thing I expected to encounter on this excursion was a dynamic duo of super fan sales associates who’d landed the ultimate gig in their mind; selling Lego. Unlike the catatonic attitude that plagues many mall-based retail employees, these two grown men were eager to explain scenes, sets, and models, suggesting ideas from other collections for unique “builds.” Not only did they know everything there was to know about the Friends collection (definitely not their demo), they exchanged stories of their own Lego projects at home, even down to which characters loved what and what pattern was on whose bunk bed.

This may come off as slightly odd (I had a thought or two), as most adults see Lego as a children’s activity that is ultimately outgrown. But these gentlemen took great pride in their roles, even in educating us about the lifespan of Lego interest. Apparently, it stops around 12 or 13 but then picks up again approximately 15 years later. (Considering how many of these things we have in our playroom, what I really wanted to know was how long it takes for Lego to accrue enough value to become a vintage collector’s item.)

It is refreshing to see people who, even at an hourly wage, totally and completely love the products they sell. They won me over, so much so, that I will no longer be buying Lego at the much-more-convenient online superstore with a free shipping membership, but instead, will actually seek out ….the mall. Why? Because it’s more fun!

And, in case you were wondering…Lego – even when it’s plural – is always Lego. And if you really consider yourself a fan, it’s LEGO. #themoreyouknow.

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  • A good day to celebrate 48! #hbdtome🎉 #aliveandwell
  • Today, I got down on my knees and did something I’m slightly ashamed to say… I haven’t done in a very long time. I cleaned all the floors in my house. I scrubbed the corners of the bathrooms, the places that no one sees until they look too closely. I scoured the kitchen, edge to edge. It is a privilege (under normal circumstances) to be able to outsource this work. At the same time, it was on my knees that felt right on this day. On one’s knees there is humility. It’s the way we pray; it’s where we play with our babies, and where we come to understand what vulnerability really means. It’s often where we cry. There’s something about being close to the ground, the earth. The act of lowering our bodies also lowers our walls, our egos, our pride. Once, when I was in India, I saw something that I still think of often. I was sitting in the courtyard of a shrine, an open square surrounded by an ancient wall whose center housed a divine Hindi god. There are hundreds like them. Thousands of people, of all socioeconomic groups, were making their way in and out. The very, very poor – shoeless, toothless, penniless – stood alongside the very rich, with expensive watches and waiting drivers. Some were moving slowly, others in a rush. Worship, in India is a daily devotional practice – a stop on the way to work as much as a holy family outing. I watched as throngs of people poured out of every doorway, walking briskly past the others who had prostrated themselves in front of the structure itself – some, kneeling, noses down, others laid out on their bellies, arms outstretched in supplication. This chaotic scene plays out often there – to the curiosity of Westerners who can’t imagine ourselves face down in our own sacred venues – which might be church for some, or a concert for others. A young man, maybe 20-years old, in his rush to leave, inadvertently stepped on the arm of an elder woman still in the process of worship. With her face down buried into the stone, she most certainly felt the injury – it was the full weight of his body on her frail wrist. But she didn’t move. (Cont. in comments)
  • A very happy 10th birthday to this lil stinker. Have a feeling we’ll remember this one. #hbd #noparty #morecake
  • I can’t remember the last time… I had time. When I wasn’t in a hurry. When I wasn’t doing two, three, even four things – at once. This is unprecedented. Perhaps even sacred. Strangely, I’m now beginning to realize how upset I’ve been at never having enough… Hours…..Space…..Width…..Depth. We, as a culture, know so little about staying in one place. About settling in. About being quiet, within the quiet, in the soft corners of our interiors. We talk about it. But how much do we embody it? Our footprints are on everything, even while we talk about stillness. Our minds are everywhere, even as we preach about mindfulness. Yet, there are some of us – many of us I’m learning – who see the gift in this (undoubtedly) finite moment. We are doing things we haven’t had time to do in years. Our schedules are empty, and one thing doesn’t have to be sacrificed for another, because the day just got a lot longer. We aren’t checking the box, we’re climbing out of it – even as we’re confined to it. For the first time in a long while, we can hear ourselves think. Yes, the thoughts are scary, uncertain, confronting and even bleak at times. We see suffering, and fear. But somewhere, deep inside, is that relief I also feel? A regeneration is happening. What can we learn? What can be birthed – in all this space? What closure – within us, around us – has been forced, that needs to take hold? I hope this time can and will mean something. Because unequivocally, we are getting a message, if we’re willing to hear it. Could this be the beginning of everything that needs to be next? I’m going to let it come. And then, let it roar. I want to be ready for something precious and bold. I want this to be the time… we didn’t go back to that. We have some change to make. #covid_19
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About

SMARTY began as a thriving community in Los Angeles and Boston with weekly panel discussions and events designed to better understand the mindset and growth strategies behind successful entrepreneurs. Today, SMARTY is a weekly blog written by Amy Swift Crosby who chronicles her life as a creative, parent, entrepreneur and spiritual seeker. As an urban refugee living in a New England seaside village, she unpacks topics ranging from uncertainty and doubt to the built environment and advertising. More on Amy.

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