Human voice has charms to soothe the savage breast

Forget the threats of Communism, the St. Louis encephalitis virus, Saddam Hussein, chlorinated water, nose rings and killer bees. If you want to fret about something, wrap your worry beads around the scourge of voice mail.

If you haven't noticed, no one is at home in American business.

My wife called to set up phone service in her new office complex. She then dialed me (yes, the real me) with the unbelievable tale that you cannot talk to a real person at the phone company. No, there is no option to punch zero so that a living-breathing-sometimes-rude person talks to you. The only choices are voice mailboxes.

I did not believe her, so I called. It hurts me to admit this publicly she was right.

Someone out there is screaming at this ink right now, "Hello, LeMon, voice mail is a gift from the Almighty."

What? I'm supposed to believe that God authorized these just-in-time lives that will not allow us to squeeze out seconds for humans to talk with humans?

Here is the larger issue: Just because we can do it, does it make it right or good to therefore do so?

Fast food is terrific, but if we never have dinner and talk with our children, is that good? E-mail is awesome (I transmit this column through its wonders), but if no one ever hears our voice, is that good? Automatic garage-door openers are fantastic, but if we never meet our neighbors, is that good? And making a million dollars in five years is unbelievable, but if your cell phone interrupts appreciating a sunset, is that good?

You and I are overdosing on change. Every nanosecond our televisions, newspapers and radios bombard us with the latest timesaving devices. But saving us for what? Convenience is the name of the game, but convenience to do what?

These are not the ramblings of a Unabomber prot?g?. I'm just wondering why, when we make a call to do business, we cannot talk with a real person?

I know voice mail is the technological whipping boy here, but look at its implications.

If I don't want to talk with you, deal with your opposition to my ideas or be bothered with your very human ramblings, voice mail is the ticket. And listen to our electronic hypocrisy, "Your message is very important to me."

Horse feathers!

Or consider, "Our competitive edge in the marketplace is our outstanding customer service." That is a pile of Jurassic Park you-know-what.

Voice mail is adults playing hide-and-seek, and getting promoted for it. I sometimes believe this is a spectator sport which the person I am trying to contact is plotting on a Windows 98 game. I have fantasized that a group of nerds has typed my name next to a blinking dot trying to invade someone's telephone.

No one, including me, is going to trash his laptop, garage-door opener, Zip drive, remote television tuner, or cell phone. Just listing those possibilities is making me hyperventilate.

My suggestion is to remain just-in-time without becoming just-a-machine. This will take some hard decisions about what it means to be human and do business with other humans. Let's go back to voice mail.

I agree that giving a caller a menu saves all that yucky stuff of talking with some of us who do not know our bytes from our glitches. In fact, with voice mail we get to eliminate a yucky human being who takes bathroom breaks and often has bad breath and bad moods.

How about a compromise? If you are intent on running your business with voice-mail greetings, try the following.

First, make every staff person record a new message each day giving the day's date and a promise of when the call will be returned. If you hear a voice mail with a sick combination of an electronic female, "We are sorry, but (insert your name) is not here right now," you have no idea if this person went to her eternal reward or even works there any longer.

Second, every staff person should empty voice mail each day. In spite of what we hear at coffee break, a voice mailbox that is so full it cannot take any more messages is not a measure of corporate success. As a matter of fact, it announces personal administrative failure. We are not impressed.

Finally, never ever give the caller another prompt to reach a real person only to find out the real person has also been beamed down into voice-mail hell.

OK, I know what you are doing right now. You are looking up my office number. Go ahead. You will not hear a menu of 14 choices that lead you nowhere. I pay for those yucky human beings who will mispronounce, misplace and make mistakes.

There is someone home in my office.

(Dr. Cal LeMon solves organizational problems with customized training and consulting. His company, The Executive Edge, can be contacted through the Business Journal by calling 831-3238, writing to PO Box 1365 65801, or e-mail at sbj@sbj.net.)