A few weeks ago, I was doing exactly what elderly people are supposed to do: reminiscing about the good old days. I was doing it with a friend who happens to own some restaurants, and we were recalling the glory days of the late Charlie’s Café Exceptionale, the best of the best. One of the things that made it so great was the fact that they did virtually everything in house. As I recall, they had their own butcher shop, laundry, bakery, staff training program, and more, so that they were able to maintain the quality controls that ensured reliability and consistency. But in addition to all that, the staff would, often as not, thank you for being there. Once in a while, the server would, after dinner, announce that Mrs. Saunders, the owner, would like you to have dessert or an after-dinner drink with her compliments, and with her thanks for your patronage. And if that didn’t happen, the wonderful maitre d’s, Ken or Jerry, would thank you for being there.
Not a big deal, you say? I disagree. No matter how automated our world becomes, people value and appreciate a word of thanks for their patronage, for something they’ve done, or for just being there in a time for need.
People love to complain about Northwest Airlines, especially because it’s the dominant airline here. While I hate the security regulations that make travel so frustrating, I really appreciate that on virtually every Northwest flight, both the pilot and the lead flight attendant say, “thank you for flying with us today.”
I was asked to emcee a program at the University of St. Thomas a few weeks back. Two days after the event, I received a warm, gracious thank-you note, and I appreciated that. In today’s world, I didn’t expect it, which made it all the more special.
Regretfully, I don’t get to that wonderful restaurant, Vincent, very often, but almost every time I do, I see owner and chef Vincent Francoual somewhere in the dining room, stopping by tables, briefly visiting, and thanking guests for their patronage. It’s a lovely and meaningful gesture that makes people feel a part of the place, and that’s a big deal in today’s highly competitive restaurant world.
Last year, my longtime doctor retired. From friends, I got the names of a few doctors to consider, all of them with good credentials and reputations. But I wanted to make sure our personalities would mesh, so I set out to “interview” a few of them. I ended up choosing Jason Reed. I knew I’d made the right choice when, two days after we’d met, I received a letter from him in which he welcomed me as a patient and said how much he appreciated the confidence I’d placed in him, and how much he looked forward to our relationship in the years ahead. Yes, that made me feel good!
A couple of months ago, an athletic team from North Dakota State University spent a weekend in Minneapolis and St. Paul. I don’t know if they won or lost their games, but they sure won me over when, a few days later, they ran a half-page ad in the newspaper that read, “Thank you Twin Cities. The alumni, students, and friends of North Dakota State University who visited your fine cities last weekend wish to thank you for your generosity and hospitality. Your kindness was much appreciated.” Wow! That’s class!
Thirty years ago, when our company started publishing Mpls.St.Paul Magazine, whenever we received a subscription order, we responded the same day with a postcard that said, “We just received your subscription order, and we really appreciate it. Your service will start with the next issue.” Ah, the penalties of success. We no longer send those cards because, I’m told, it’s not feasible with our new, “improved” automated systems. And it’s a shame, because it was such a meaningful thing to do.
Which reminds me: Thanks for reading this column, and thanks for reading this magazine. All of us here really do appreciate your support.
