At Home with Tech

Unlock the power of all your technology and learn how to master your photography, computers and smartphone.

Category: Tech Diary

Why Can’t People Remember my Name?

My name is not Lester Barrett. But lots of folks have incorrectly called me Lester across the years. Here’s how I handle this challenge.

I have two first names and two last names. My parents thought Barrett was a cool name, and my mother told me that she liked the poetry of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. So, Barrett is born, and my story begins.

I Like my Name
There are not that many Barrett’s out there. Not as a first name. Not that I’ve found. In fact, I think I can count the number on one hand. I’ve always thought that was great. Not having to share my name with countless others. It complements my identity as an only child. (But that’s another story for another day.)

Hi, my name is Barrett. How do spell that? That’s Barrett with two t’s.

Please Don’t Call me Barry
That’s usually as far as it goes with my first name. People get it. It’s easy to pronounce. Barrett sticks the landing pretty much every time as a functional name. Thank you, Mom and Dad.

Sometimes people ask me if I have a nickname… like Barry. No.

I hate ‘Barry.’ That’s not my name. Please don’t call me that.

My name is Barrett. And with surname?
Barrett Lester

And when they hear my both names, that’s when many folks run into trouble.

Lester is not my First Name
That’s because Lester is a more common first name. And Barrett is a more common last name.

I would say that across my entire life to date, 50-55% of people I meet initially call me Lester, either verbally or via email. And after I correct them, another 20-30% make the mistake again or even repeatedly.

Just so you know, I’m not really that upset about all of this. Yes, it’s a little inconvenient. But I actually find it quite interesting.

Paying Attention to Complexity
Names in general can be a terribly complex category. Even the simplest of names can have any number of different spellings. You’ve really got to pay attention. (I am absolutely not immune to occasionally misspelling a name.)

When it comes to names, everyone should be on their toes. You can’t make any assumptions.

My Jedi Mind Trick
To be fair, yes, I know Lester sounds like a better first name. And that presumption seems to be locked into a number of brains I’ve encountered.

It’s locked in really tight, and I realized many years ago that I needed a solution that would effectively rewrite that flawed code in people’s brains. I had to rewire that Lester-first neuron pathway into a stronger Barrett synapse connection.

How did I do that? Trial and error.

I finally landed on a simple mental trick that works with the majority of my test subjects…

The correct order of my name is alphabetical.

  • The letter ‘B’ comes before the letter ‘L.’
  • It’s Barrett Lester.
  • That’s how you remember.
  • BAM!

After that, people get it right.

Use your Webcam
Anyone can make an innocent mistake when it comes to remembering a name. I think that’s even more likely if you’ve never met the person face to face or had voice contact.

Your connection may be as wafer thin as a cc on an email chain.

In today’s virtual work environments, there are often so many people we’re connected to who are almost total strangers.

That’s a problem. And it’s one that we all bear a responsibility to fix.

If you’re connected to someone as part of a personal or work community, then why not say hello and talk for a few minutes? If that person is half way across the world, then use your webcam.

A visual and audio connection can do wonders.

Really.

And that will help you to remember someone’s name.

What’s in a Name?
One last point on my name: There are a very few people who know me well who occasionally call me Lester with intention. It’s usually during a funny moment. And I like funny. Then that’s okay to call me by my last name. The intention to get it wrong is what makes it feel entirely right.

So let’s review.

Barrett Lester is my name. Please don’t call me Lester. Unless I know that you know that my name is Barrett. Then, you can call me Lester.

Am I clear?

I expect this entire blog post isn’t going to serve as my best Barrett Lester branding exercise, but if you use my Jedi mind trick that the letter ‘B’ comes first, you should be okay.

Thank you.

Diary of a Dad who Sent his Kid to Sleepaway Camp

Our son is away from home for the very first time, and this is how I’ve been coping over the first few days.

My wife and I dropped our son off at sleepaway camp this week after a three hour drive. He’s twelve, and it’s his first time away from our family (beyond sleepovers with friends). This big step would have likely come earlier if not for the pandemic. But this is the summer. And he was ready for it. The big question is… were we?

No Parenting Responsibilities. Yay!
As I drove home, my wife and I used the time to plan a weekend getaway. We also discussed a variety of activities we could do as a couple during our parental pause. It all seemed positively invigorating.

Then, we got home and our new reality set in.

No Parenting Responsibilities. Boo!
It was so quiet. Everything seemed a bit off without him around the corner. We talked about how our son might be doing after his first day. Did he have everything he needed? Would he quickly make friends? How was he adjusting to his new environment?

We had no information. And that was the plan. This camp is a screen and cellphone-free zone. But in our age of immediate and constant flow of digital communication, it felt really strange that there’s effectively a dome of silence over our son.

But not entirely. There are visual breadcrumbs to follow…

Putting on the Digital Detective Dad Hat
The camp posts photos daily on their website where my wife had already created our parent account.

An industrious camp photographer is snapping away all day and then uploads hundreds of pics the next morning for parents to review. It’s effectively a visual data dump, and it takes some time to go through.

As I reviewed the first group of photos, I spotted our son on the dinner line. Then, there was another photo of our boy eating dinner.

Wait! Who was our son sitting next to? Was that the same boy who was on the dinner line with him in the previous photo? It was!

Okay… That’s good. Maybe that’s a new friend he just made. Hard to really know based on two photos.

The following day, I pulled up the new crop of photos and started searching for our little Lester. (He’s actually not so little anymore.)

No. No. No. Nothing.

Wait… there he is again! He’s walking somewhere. And…
…And he’s walking with that same boy.

I’d definitely say that’s a new friend.

After two days and three photos, I’ve derived the following:

  • Our son is not starving.
  • He’s made at least one new friend.
  • He seems happy enough.

I feel like a digital detective, putting together an entire storyline based on a few visual fragments. But it’s something. And these few clues definitely sooth my parental craving for information.

Do You have an Extra Stamp?
Of course, we’ve also supplied our boy with a stack of pre-stamped envelopes and stationary. The old-school practice of letter writing is still alive and well at summer camps.

But snail mail in 2022? Come on! There must be a faster way!

And there is.

Our camp uses an eLetter system where both parents and campers can effectively email each other. For the kids, it’s actually more of a scan-a-physical letter system where the camper first writes a letter with pen and paper. Then, the letter gets scanned and uploaded.

We received our first eLetter on day three, and it was a fairly lengthy report! He wrote that he missed us (as well as our cat). He was also enjoying himself and gave us some detail on his early experiences.

In short, our lad was doing just fine.

Time to Disconnect?
There’s a certain irony that though we’ve sent our boy to a summer experience that is technology free, I am now glued to the camp’s website each morning.

Perhaps I could also benefit from a few weeks away from glowing screens, keyboards and the constant drip of digital info. A total blackout and disconnection. A cleansing of sorts.

Wait, let me think about that for another moment…

ARE YOU KIDDING?!

It’s Not Party Time Yet
Our son is away from home for the very first time! I need that digital tether, thin as it may be. Every morsel of information is welcome.

I hear that parents who send their kids to summer camp over multiple years quickly move into a ‘party mode’ mentality during their kid-less weeks.

For me, maybe next week.

For now, I’ve got to review a few hundred camp photos to try to figure out what our son was up to yesterday. And then, I want to write another eLetter to him.

Thank goodness for technology.

Where to Buy a Belt before 9am near Grand Central Terminal

If you forget your belt after leaving for your commute to New York City, all is not lost. Here’s the solution I found within steps of Grand Central.

The fundamentals of dressing oneself properly isn’t a topic that should require much attention. We all know the rules. Sure, we can discuss fashion, but the basics of covering up your birthday suit doesn’t usually require much thought. And that’s sometimes the problem.

It’s when you’re rushing off to work on autopilot and not paying attention that little mistakes can crop up.

  • Mismatched socks
  • A forgotten tie (when jacket and tie were standard wear)
  • Shirt sleeve cuff buttons misaligned into the wrong holes

These little errors can happen to anyone. (I’m certainly guilty of the occasional ‘I dressed myself too quickly’ faux pas.) None of this is catastrophic. But what do you do if you forget a more structurally important item… such as your belt?

I’ve got a friend who recently experienced this problem. Here’s his story.
(Okay… it was me.)

Help! I Forgot my Belt!
No, it wasn’t such a big deal, and yes, I could have gotten through the day with slightly looser pants on my waist without risking a wardrobe malfunction. But I didn’t feel right, and it was bothering me while I sat on my Metro North commuter train.

I figured as I headed to Grand Central Terminal that there must be thousands of ways to solve the problem and still be at my desk by 9am.
Hey, this is New York City!

I thought back to pre-pandemic days when men’s clothing stores in Midtown Manhattan were open early to handle commuter traffic. (My go-to store is usually Charles Tyrwhitt. Their shirts with ‘proper’ collars can’t be beat.)

But on the train ride, as I held my iPhone and Googled the hours of men’s clothing stores near Grand Central Terminal, I was awakened to another painful example of our new normal.

At 8:30am, stores are still closed.

All except for one.

A Lone Outpost in the Center of Everything
It’s the Men’s Wearhouse at 360 Madison Avenue (45th and Madison).

That store opens at 8:30am. (All of their other branches in New York City open at 10am.)

As I walked by at 8:40am, this Men’s Wearhouse actually looked closed. The darkened windows obscured any activity. But as I peered in, I spotted blurry movement. I walked up to the door and pulled.

And the portal opened!

As I entered, I still wasn’t entirely certain the store was actually ready for business. It was empty, save for one salesman at the register.

I walked up and cautiously asked… “belts?”

He pointed to the back without looking up. I continued on.

I’ve Joined the Club
So I quickly found a black belt and brought it back to the salesman.

As he started to ring it up, I suddenly felt this intense need to confess. So I told him my story.

He finally looked directly at me and gently explained that belts are actually their hottest-selling item in the early morning. My story was not so unique after all.

He handed me the receipt and asked if I wanted him to cut off the tags so I could wear the belt out of the store.

I smiled.

Tame your Inner Vecna
I walked out of the Men’s Wearhouse with my new belt around my waist and a feeling of great accomplishment.

Sure, you’ve got to roll with the punches, and if you forget your belt, it’s not the end of the world. Stranger things can happen.

But with the past two and a half years feeling a bit like the upside down, it’s especially sweet when you have the opportunity to take back a little control.