What the world needs is fewer memos and more ice cream

Can’t we all get along?

Probably not. It would seem there’s a lot of division and distrust out there. And not enough ice cream. Let me explain.

Sometime in the late 1980s, someone in upper management at the Democrat and Chronicle and the now defunct Times-Union, encouraged those of us in the newsroom to be more polite.

Now reporters and editors are not necessarily a courteous or obedient lot. You remember the kid who was always goofing off in third grade and thinking up perfect nicknames for the principal. That kid is now a reporter annoying government officials. Which is good.

As part of that courtesy initiative, the newsroom was told to think of readers as external customers who were paying us to ferret out the news.

We were reminded to be polite during conversations with the external customers. We were to answer the phone with “Democrat and Chronicle newsroom, may I help you?” rather than just grunt our names.

Soon after the policy was initiated, I moved over from the Times-Union to become managing editor of the Democrat and Chronicle. Early on, I decided to visit the D&C’s regional offices. It was sort of a get-to-know-you tour.

One stop on my pilgrimage was the paper’s Geneseo office, home of Livingston County reporter Bob Bickel. (I wasn’t living in Geneseo then.)

I found the office. The door was ajar. I heard the sounds of typing. I entered. I realized that, at this moment, I could have been an external customer. This would be a good test of the new politeness policy.

A large man was sitting at a desk in the corner, partially obscured by stacks of papers.

He turned toward me.

“Who are you?” he grunted in clear violation of the politeness policy.

I knew who I was, but his tone threw me off.

Impatient, Bob fired a second question at me.

“What do you want?” It seemed he did not want to be disturbed.

A bit frightened, I tried to pull rank. “I think I’m your boss,” I murmured.

“Oh,” Bob replied. “Let me buy you ice cream.”

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Over ice cream, we had a good talk, perhaps about the Livingston County Board of Supervisors, or airplanes. Bob loved airplanes. I became a satisfied external customer.

Alas, I didn’t go back to the home office and convince upper management to fund an ice-cream initiative.

We could have rewarded external customers with cones, milkshakes, and sundaes. Other companies would follow our lead. People would take an ice-cream-timeout from calling each other names. They would forget why they were enemies.

All of this would have come about because Bob Bickel didn’t get the politeness memo, or, better yet, because he ignored the memo and turned to ice cream, an all-purpose ice breaker.

Bob retired from the paper in 1992, and he died in 2001 at age 78. As it happened, I wrote his obituary.

“A bear of a man,” I wrote, “he walked Main Street in Geneseo, stopping, chatting, picking up news along the way.”

I mentioned Bob’s cluttered office, his nine children, his love of reading, and his devotion to the Detroit Tigers. But I didn’t mention my first terrifying visit to that office and how Bob bought off his boss with an ice cream sundae. Suffice to say, it worked. Give it a try.

Remarkable Rochesterians

bobby johnson in 1981.
bobby johnson in 1981.

The Rochester poet bobby johnson (who preferred the lowercase spelling of his name) died last November at age 93. Let’s add his name  to the list of the list of Remarkable Rochesterians:

bobby johnson (1929-2022): His bebop poetry captured the essence of Clarissa Street in Rochester’s Third Ward, the central avenue of a Black neighborhood before it was destroyed by urban renewal in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Growing up in the neighborhood, which is now known as Corn Hill, he attended School No. 3 and graduated from Madison High School before receiving degrees from Monroe Community College and Empire State College. A research scientist and a substance abuse counselor for many years, he also lectured, and he published five books of poetry, including “Clarissa Street Project, Be Bop edition.”

'He was like a superhero': Renowned Rochester poet Bobby Johnson dies

From his home in Geneseo, Livingston County, retired senior editor Jim Memmott, writes Remarkable Rochester, who we were, who we are. He can be reached at jmemmott@gannett.com or write Box 274, Geneseo, NY 14454

This article originally appeared on Rochester Democrat and Chronicle: What the world needs is fewer memos and more ice cream