We just took the van in for an oil change and rear brakes in preparation for our trip(s). We noticed, standing in the long line which had formed even before the doors opened, that Chris McCarthy's certifications weren't on the wall any more; just three blank spaces where the paint was a lighter color.

When we got to the front we asked if Chris had left, and the chap behind the counter volunteered that Chris would be opening his own place across the street soon, but that they still had all the same technicians they'd had when Chris was there.

And I thought, so what?

I didn't go there for anybody's technical expertise. Most folks who can get and keep a job as a mechanic are competent at the technical stuff. The primary place auto shops fall down is in the ethics department.

We trust Chris McCarthy. I couldn't care less who his technicians are; I know he'll hire the right people, expect good work and honesty, and treat me with respect.

It's not about the technicians, folks. It's not about doing a good job. You can be the best in the world, but people do business with people they know, like, and trust.

I just got a call on my Skype number from Trevor.

"So what?" Yes, I heard you think that. We get phone calls all the time. But let me describe this in a little detail and see if you feel the same wonder I do.

I'm sitting at my computer. No phone rang; instead, a message popped up on my screen, glowing transparent over other work so as to be less intrusive, telling me not only that I had a call, but the name of the caller.

I am in northern California, just outside Sacramento. The caller, Trevor Gay, is in England. He was using a cell phone, and wanted to make a test call to a Skype number. He saw I was online, and decided to give me a quick ring. To test Skype's conferencing feature, I added my wife Sue, sitting across the office from me, to the call; she and Trevor had a quick chat.

All this took 8 minutes. And here's what happened in that 8 minutes.

Someone in England, using a cell phone, called my computer, not a telephone. Both our voices were converted to digital bits, sent over the internet like an email, converted to sound, all that stuff.

We had a conference call. Remember when that was a big deal, requiring special equipment? Nah. Just click a couple buttons and connect people.

I had a free conversation, a quick chat, with someone halfway around the world. I remember a time when long distance was saved for really important stuff, and international calls were virtually unheard of except for the most extreme circumstances.

Are you using technology to cut through the noise, and be more human? Or are you letting technology shape you to its own ends, becoming more 'connected', but less connected?

Just a few weeks ago, I met Caitlyn James in the comments section of Jonathan Fields' blog. It's not quite the same as discovering someone at the malt shop, but it works for me. Today's post is the first time we've had a guest post at Business Heretics; Caitlyn is an educator (I use that word because 'teacher' is easily dismissed as simply a profession, but 'educator' hopefully makes it clear that she is on a mission in which she intends to accomplish more than surviving long enough to collect a pay packet.)

Caitlyn writes today about young people and small business finding each other.

Caitlyn James

The age old cry of the adolescent: "you're not my boss!" Is there a generation gap — or perhaps a failure of respect? Are "kids these days" slackers in ways we weren't? Are expectations — on either side of the "gap" unreasonable?

I thought we, the "olders", figured out that no one was in charge of us. Now, we have taken that to its most logical conclusion and become masters of our own domains (not in the Seinfeld way) and we own businesses that put us in charge of others. Except that those for whom we are, now, boss know that no one is in charge of them. Hmm.

Pesky kids . . . and 30-somethings. (No pesky 40-somethings, though! )

There is information everywhere about business. Kids know early that financial success is often preceded by a financial crisis or two; that working for yourself is the way (at least one way) to riches. For many young employees, they know they have options.

If you've hired well - but it isn't going well, I have some thoughts. Undoubtedly, the ideas will apply regardless of employee age, but the focus is on the young employee.

After meeting our basic survival needs: food, shelter, etc., we all need to have fun, freedom, belonging, and power. Need.

Not so that we have a good life, but so we stay alive.

These needs are basic, and monkey studies have shown that deprivation of something like belonging to a group, which might be considered "icing on the cake" can lead to death. In less extreme research, links to disease, immunity problems, and mental illness are well-documented results of stress and lack of:

• fun, defined as something to engage in, be interested in;
• lack of freedom to make choices for oneself in at least some areas;
• lack of belonging or connection to culture, family, social group, or with a pet, and;
• lack of personal power -  the sense that you are competent at something.

If you create a workplace that helps employees meet those needs, you will have a happy and productive workplace.

For a kid who has aspirations (of grandeur?) freedom and power may be big motivators. Put that person in a situation where they make no decisions, or where competence doesn't matter (button-pushing), or it matters so much that the standard feels impossible to achieve, and the kid will be miserable. And, quite likely, make you miserable, too.

Sometimes, you can structure small, incremental steps to more power, but school systems & parents are empowering children well and early. Small steps may be perceived as condescending more than as rites of passage. So, what to do?

Put your young & ambitious employee in charge of something. A project, a recurring task (like month end something or other), a section of the office. Let them know they are not on their own, but that the responsibility for the final outcome is theirs. If it is not going well, they are to report to you immediately. If they delay & the outcome is unsatisfactory, they should know, in advance, that this project/task/section will no longer be theirs to manage. Should you have to take away that particular job, take the time to debrief. If there is no sense of responsibility, i.e., it is someone else's fault, and no spark of an idea about how to do better next time, discuss this. Document it. It is likely you will be asking this person to leave your employ, but not until they have had 2 more chances in a couple of different capacities to prove that they can either step up to that level of responsibility, or are willing to toil at the more mundane parts of the job, for now.

Mentoring the next generation is our job. It might take them a few months of part-time work, or a couple months of more regular hours to go through an entire process but providing opportunities for young employees to meet some of their basic needs at work is more than an economic exchange. It is a chance to give back to the community a more productive & realistic employee, and in the happiest of circumstances you have created a chance to begin a process of grooming your next manager!

After you've left a comment below, head on over to Caitlyn's blog and see what else she has to teach you. Thanks, Caitlyn.

It's probably just me.

I have in my inbox not just one, not just two, but three emails outlining product launches that have happened recently. In them, they glibly refer to "making five figures in XX number of days or hours"

Five figures. That's, minimum, $10,000 (unless they're counting pennies, in which case it's $100.00 which I sorta doubt.)

Really? Folks I've never heard of are making what I would consider two solid months' income in a couple days? Does anyone else ever feel like maybe, when their ship came in, they were at the airport waiting for a train?

It's probably just me.

For much of my life, I was an introverted cynical loner. No, really. I spent as much time alone as possible. I took entire vacations alone. My favorite activity was reading, alone, in my room.

Fast forward 30 years.

Since the turn of the millennium, I've changed. I'm not sure when it started.

But I know why.

Some things only grow when you believe they will. Faith. Trust. Until you extend them, and see the good, you won't have them. Live as if.

I've trusted some people, and they've given me back the love of people I know I had as a child.

Too many to name, but I'll give it a shot. Folks like Tom, Jerry, Marcos, Anne, Bernadette, Jodi, Jule, Chris, Mary Louise, Megan, Paul, Bolaji, Conor, Greg, Bill, Ed, John, Bonnie, Rex, Brendan, Becky, Bernd, Rick, and, well, y'know, the three I forgot.

It was not easy for me to trust my thoughts and feelings to a group of strangers. I've tried, in the past, and it was too ugly, too often. Not this time.

I love these people. They aren't acquaintances or associates. They're my tribe.

They're friends.

This post is used by permission of its author, T. Scott Gross, author of "Positively Outrageous Service"

(This month's e-ziine is a little...soft. But hang in to the end and you'll be glad you did!)

She’s a girly girl. Pink is her favorite color. She experiments with hairstyles and thinks she has an eye for fashion. She sings in the shower and sometimes skips through the living room. She studies gymnastics as well as ju jitsu.

Did I mention she is only ten?

While I’m at it, let me remind you she is also Pops’ girl.

We’re talking about my granddaughter. I call her “The Princess” and it’s my job to teach her things that too often parents forget. So far we’ve learned how to change the AC filters, a chore that included a lesson on using ladders safely, instruction on writing the date of the change on the edge of the filter, and how to check the direction of the air flow so you get the right side out.

We’ve learned how to put a spit shine on a pair of Pops’ dress shoes. (She like the spit part! We know about fixing a leaky flapper valve on a toilet, when to use gloves and safety glasses, how to dump brush at the city landfill, and why the sky is blue and what makes the setting sun look so big.

She can set a fire in the fireplace, use the wire grinder to prepare the grill for spring painting, and can tell you how to light and frame a photograph.

Granny Buns has added fun lessons on baking sugar cookies, frosting chocolate cinnamon cake, and how to wrap a gift. The Princess has her own apron hanging in Granny Buns’ kitchen. She can tell you where to find the sugar, the vanilla extract, and she’s learning who likes what to drink with dinner and what each family member will want to go with their dessert.

Because my office is in the front of the house I usually spy The Princess and her older brother “Big Guy” before they reach the door. For some odd reason I always alert Buns by yelling, “Incoming!” When the door opens the kid with the ponytail is usually the first in.

“Is that the prettiest girl in the whole wide world?’ That’s always the question and the answer is taken for obvious. Big Guy and The Princess never know when a visit will result in a lesson in addition to a piece of the latest baked masterpiece from Granny Buns’ kitchen.

At ten when you ask the “what do you want to be when you grow up” question the answer changes with each asking. But Pops and Granny Buns know the answer and we are proud to say they are already well on their way to a lifetime career of honesty, solid work ethic, and unlimited curiosity as well as the ability to find the answers they seek.

We want our grandkids to be powerful individuals who are free to do whatever they chose and not be cowed by the opinions of others or the dimwitted spirit that comes with incompetence.

I won’t leave this earth until it has a princess who knows that she need not bend to the controlling wishes of others.

This spring there will be a new tool box lined up on top of the workbench. It will be a pink one.

Big, tall, hairy-legged boys show up at our house to raid the dessert stock and hang out with our grandson, Forrest. Skinny ten year old girls with long shiny hair and too-big front teeth come in on puffs of fresh air and mom’s perfume to dig through the refrigerator with The Princess.

Every one of them zooms in for a hug before leaving. Every one says in puberty-laced bass voices or girly girl falsetto, Thanks Pops! Thanks Granny Buns before disappearing for who knows how long.

Not all, maybe darned few of your employees have someone in their life to teach them how to tune a guitar, sing in harmony, flip an egg, or even that you take your shoes off outside if they are muddy. So when they screw up… and they will screw up… take time to discover if their behavior was negligent or simply the result of not having a Pops and Granny Buns. If that’s the case… step up to the plate, we have work to do!