The Value of the Dollar (And Other Bourgeois Problems)

"Economy" has become a 4-letter word this past year.  Since December 2008, when it was announced by the National Bureau of Economic Research that the United States was in a recession (and, in actuality, had been since 2007), the media coverage of our nation's reaction to the recession has been that American families have scrimped, fretted, used up savings and run up credit in every effort to stay afloat in the standard of American living to which they've become accustomed.  In some cases, families have scrimped, fretted, used up savings and run up credit only to have the big bad wolf huff and puff and deliver a foreclosure notice - sinking their American dream in pile of debt and offering instead a substandard lifestyle they never thought they'd experience.  As we approach December 2009 with cautiously positive retail forecasts for the holiday season and a rough, life-changing year behind us, I think it's fair to say that the trials and anxiety our nation's citizens have experienced in this Great Recession have been legitimate, often uncontrollable products of national circumstance and the ever-influential economy.

Mostly.

However, what I've seen as a hospitality professional over the past year has been the rise of what I've begun to call the "bourgeois problem".  As a result of the travel industry's ungainly nosedive into the red since 2008, hotels, airlines and all other travel providers have reduced their rates and fares to low levels that never would have been considered prior to the recession in an effort to bring their revenues back into the black.  While some Americans haven't even been able to consider travel because they struggle just to provide for their families, others have capitalized on the opportunity to experience luxury hotels at amazing discounted rates, exotic vacation destinations and inexpensive domestic air travel.  Most of these opportunists with a little bit of disposable income are members of the American bourgeoisie, whose interests are determined by the common materialistic "standard" and whose expectations about the value of their limited and hard-earned money determine how they spend their disposable income.  We in the hospitality industry should all be thanking these savvy opportunists for staying in our hotels and renting our cars and continuing to provide us with our jobs, right?

Well, to all the bourgeoisie:  Thanks.

But truth be told, the "bourgeois problem" is that the public - the bourgeois public - has an alarming amount of power over the businesses of this country at the moment.  Individuals whose self-described standard of excellence in travel prior to the recession included discount fares on Southwest airlines and hotel stays in airport Red Roof Inns are now able to afford first class upgrades and weekend getaways to luxury properties - and they know it.  Organizations' "target" demographic has changed dramatically in the past year, and in many cases the exposure to a whole new type of traveler - the one who previously felt a luxury hotel or family cruise was out of his or her vacation budget - has been a wonderful boon for the industry, as hopefully we're creating relationships that will continue long after the nation begins to feel economic recovery.  No, the bourgeois problem lies in the expectation level of the consumer; the attitude that retailers, hospitality professionals and service providers must work harder, offer more excellence, and in many cases, give things away - because if we don't, the potential guest or customer will simply go elsewhere and find someone who will.  Scary.  The bourgeois motto is not only "What have you done for me lately?" but also "What else will you do?"

As a hotel manager, I am asked every day by guests to give them things.  Champagne, because it's their anniversary.  Further reduced rates, because our 3-star hotel neighbor is offering less.  Free breakfast, because of course it's available at the Embassy Suites.  I understand that it's smart - particularly in this economy - to compare one's options to receive the best value.  But in many cases, I would like to retort with, "Why?"  Our rooms certainly do not have less value simply because we have reduced their nightly rates.  We haven't hired unqualified staff to provide less excellent service just because we're in a recession.  And, "free" amenities such as champagne and breakfast have a cost to the hotel.  But the expectation from the bourgeoisie seems to be that the perceived value of their dollar - to them - should dictate what organizations provide.

Let me be clear that I do not exempt myself from the bourgeois group.  I've found myself breaking die-hard allegiances to Alaska Airlines and Bank of America over the last year in favor of lower fares and sexier interest rates elsewhere - without even a backward glance.  While I make an effort not to capitalize on "the recession" as a way of getting freebies (I think our nation is better served if businesses thrive than if I get free stuff that contributes to a company's slow spiral out of business), I have found myself asking for reduced rates, lower payments or extended deadlines to accommodate my own financial concerns.  But I look around and realize that I'm asking for these things from the comfort of my expensive (albeit small) apartment, where I'm wearing warm (and some designer) clothes, talking on a cell phone that I've chosen to pay upwards of $150 a month for to have all the bells and whistles on and affording it all by going to a job every day where I get paid to do (mostly) tasks I really enjoy in the company of excellent professionals.

All of the above is why I call this phenomenon the "bourgeois problem".  Because the people who can't afford to travel don't.  And the people who have next nothing - who are truly lacking in food, shelter, safety and basic living needs - are struggling enough with those daily challenges that they're not asking for more, but just to be taken care of.  And the rest of us?  Well, we're asking the businesses and organizations of this country to provide us with more when we feel that we have less, so we can continue to carry on in our rightful pre-recession standard of living.  We the bourgeoisie choose the problem of perceived financial instability, and propagate it for ourselves - whether we realize it or not.

I've given a larger portion than usual of my disposable income this month to philanthropy, which means I'm choosing not to travel to San Francisco next weekend for a family gathering.  But, who knows?  Maybe fares will go down at the last minute, and Virgin America will offer a complimentary beverage and a first class upgrade.  If so, I'll probably jump on the flight, with a bunch of other savvy travelers - just me and the bourgeoisie.

Here Are a Few of My (Least) Favorite Things...

Even on the lowest of days, Julie Andrews never fails to inspire an uplifting song and inevitably a lighter heart. "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music is the penultimate remedy for a blue day, followed closely by a chick flick and a bowl of popcorn. This week, I need a little Julie Andrews in my life, because I'm feeling particularly sensitive about some of the side effects of our current economic climate. I've had this constant, nagging guilt about my own abundance, like a fly stuck in the living room...I've heard the buzzing, but haven't quite been able to find the source.

A few of my (least) favorite things have been contributing to this:

My Local Real Change Agent
No longer known as My Local Real Change Agent, because last week I introduced myself to the ruddy-faced, jovial homeless man who faithfully stands outside RiteAid each day peddling his $1 leftist local papers, whose name is Frenchi. Each time I stop in the store (an alarming 3 - 4 times a week) he's there, and because I'm obviously not going to buy the paper each time, I wanted to make our greetings more comfortable. However, I've begun to wonder what I could do with the money I'm spending at RiteAid to better serve the less fortunate than I. I give when I can, and contribute monthly to the Market Foundation (supporting local service programs for underprivileged individuals) but when I retire to my warm apartment with my loving pets at the end of one of these trips, I look outside my 2nd story window and see Frenchi standing there in the cold until the store closes for the night, and I have to close my blinds to block the guilt that sweeps in like a strong wind.

Spa Hop
A beautifully built and designed nail salon that opened up 2 weeks after their proudly displayed 08-08-08 grand opening and just before the economy hit the skids, this shop makes me sad each time I pass. Located on the same corner as the transient Belltown Inn and across from the scummy Irish bar (where I'm pretty sure a large homeless contingency spend its meager alms on cheap booze) on 3rd Ave & Blanchard St, this place didn't stand a chance to begin with , and continues to limp along in this distressed time. I noticed they didn't advertise a discount coupon in my ValPak last week, and I'm now concerned about their survival. Every time I walk by to the dog park I see the faithful owners just sitting in an immaculate empty shop, and I vow that my next pedicure will be at this place that so bravely continues with only a few customers to keep them going. And yet...I still haven't been, because I've been giving myself rather lovely pedicures at home, and can't justify the expense.

Telemarketers
I don't even own a home phone anymore; however, that doesn't mean I can't expostulate about this, because the situation goes deeper than the feeling of annoyance from the recipient of a 9PM solicitation phone call. When I do pick up a solicitation call, I am always nice to telemarketers. Always. Why? Because here's the thing: those annoying telemarketers are doing jobs NO ONE WANTS TO DO. Those people are paying bills and providing for families with measly paychecks and a work environment that allows no room for deviation from the script, no room to connect with the customer (even if the customer wanted the services offered) and little personal reward at the end of the day. I don't agree with solicitation calls...that said, I don't think individuals should be blamed for the faults of the system. Because, really? While other Americans who "can't find a job" are collecting unemployment, these individuals go to work as denizens of one of the least respected jobs in this country, and bring groceries home. Perhaps not proudly, but with their own paychecks all the same. The next time you're about to speak rudely to a telemarketer, ask yourself if you would deign to be on the other end of the line...and politely hang up.

I know there's always another side to the story. I know that maybe Frenchi drank himself homeless, and maybe the Spa Hop owners have a large fund somewhere from early investments in a thriving startup and this shop is really a side project, and perhaps telemarketers are lazy, fat low-lifes who hold these pathetic jobs because they've never aspired to more. But I can't help but feel that in our economy, we're all feeling a growing sense of dread about how we're going to fill our basic needs - food, shelter, protection - and my heart goes out to everyone who's trying to do so.

At the end of the day, this is the source of that buzzing guilt: the people who are struggling more than I, and the fact that I can sit here blathering about it online when others can't even afford a cable connection. I don't feel "entitled" to my abundance - I feel fucking lucky. Which makes me wonder when the other shoe is going to drop.

Julie Andrews' silly song continues to lift my spirits on a blue day, only I've taken the liberty to replace "raindrops on roses" and "whiskers on kittens" with "the love of my family" and "abundance in strength". I know, those phrases don't rhyme...but there's truth and strength in those words, and those are some of my favorite things.