Kids These Days... (part deux)

In continuation of my last blog about recent college grads and their string of poor interviewing etiquette with me, I must admit I was pleasantly surprised with a one new interviewee. And, equally as disappointed with a separate one.

So, good news or bad news first? ... Alright, I'll go bad news first. So, as you are all aware, we're interviewing for a position on our editing staff. What characteristic do you think an "editor" might have? For example, go ahead and conjure up a few words that might sketch your image of an editor. Like, being a good writer, right? OK. Good. What else? Do you think an editor might, um, read? Surely, right? 

Well, I guess one of our interviewees thought she could slip by and become a great editor without being a good reader. 

What ticked off that my judgement? I asked a seemingly simple question to her: Who's your favorite author? 

After waffling for about 10 seconds (i.e., an eternity during an interview), she said she couldn't name one. 

OK, I thought. She must have a slew of writers she loves and can't just name one. So, I tried to help her out and asked her who her favorite five authors were so that she didn't have to choose just one. Seems I only made it worse.

"Um, well, I, um, I don't really, um, you know, um, read much," she said. "And, I don't remember any of their names if I do read their work."

Yes, red flags, alarms, toll bells, North Korea's nuclear bomb, whistles, etc., all went off in my head. Wow, I thought, can't she just make up a name? Like, just say Salinger, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, King, whatever. Geez, name ME as your favorite author if you can't think of one. 

A blank, sheepish, blush-filled face looked right at me. I don't even want to think about what my facial reaction was staring back at her.

Call me crazy, but I find it difficult for a person to be a good editor or writer without being a good reader. Our words, syntax and style shouldn't be learned via Ryan Seacrest's monologues on "American Idol" or from dialogue from the latest "Twilight" movie. 

But, there was redemption later that day when we interviewed another candidate. Perhaps she was reading my blog from last week (doubtful, but hey, I can dream, right?), but she did the rare deed of asking for my business card before she left for the day. Just as she was about to form the words "May I have your business card?", the conference room where the interview took place became a slow-motion "Matrix" scene where her mouth was moving -5 mph to utter those six magical words. I even thought I saw a rainbow appear behind her.

Hallelujah, I thought. They do exist.

Kids These Days...

What's up with kids these days? I've been interviewing recent college grads for the opening of our associate editor position at the mag, and seriously, have we forgotten how to teach our kids etiquette and manners? Please, if you're out there looking for a job, don't Linday Lohan yourself by creating a self-spectacle and not exuding normal professional manners.

Example #1: Dude, where's my thank-you note and follow up e-mail/letter/phone call?

Dude, isn't it just customary to send a follow-up e-mail to thank your interviewer for the chance to meet?... What? Do you think you can just wait around expecting an e-mail to arrive from me? Or, wait... Maybe it should be ME who should thank the candidates for the opportunity to interview them! Eureka! Maybe I've gotten it all wrong this whole time. 

Only one of my six strongest candidates was keen enough to do so. That's 16.6 frickin' percent. Sixteen percent is a horrible free throw shot percent, an atrocious batting average and barely above the abysmal New Jersey Nets' 14.6 percent win rate. And guess what? It's also an unacceptable rate of e-mail follow-up among these kids. 

[For the record, this season my flag football team's record completely sucked (2-8) and we managed to go better than 16.6 percent. That's pretty sad.]

Example #2: Sending an e-mail solely with attachments and no greeting message

If a person thinks they are actually going to get an interview by applying for a job with an e-mail whose subject line states "Applying for Associate Editor Job" and sending it only with a resume and cover letter attached, then you're just plain dumb. Seriously. Do I even need to explain why this is unacceptable?

Example #3: Not making your Facebook page private

We're all guilty of it. You know, party pics with red solo cups in hand and silly photos with half-naked people (well, everyone's guilty of it except me. You know, since I'm an angel). But hasn't the media and all your friends warned you about the perils of posting those photos? Like, in the event a potential employer has at all come out from behind a rock in the past five years to discover Facebook?

Example #4: Not asking for the potential employer's business card at the conclusion of the interview

Man, this was something that was ingrained in me at the end of college. Everyone I talked to advised me to conclude the interview with a sincere thanks, handshake and request of a business card. It kind of signals interest and a mature level of professionalism, no? NONE of these candidates have asked for my business card. One person even left without shaking my hand. Geez.

Listen, if you think I'm being harsh on these young'ins, then go ahead and think it. But this job's tough, and the job market is even tougher. We've already got to teach this person about the pitfalls of journalism and why it's still relevant in this age of Twitter, and it's disappointing we now have to teach them etiquette and manners, too. 

R.I.P. Cero / Hello Via Luna!

A new guido's in town. And Fort Lauderdale-lites should be prepared for an onslaught. 

The Ritz-Carlton Fort Lauderdale recently replaced its beloved restaurant Cero with a brand-new Italian grill restaurant, Via Luna. Cero coincidentally happened to be one of my favorite restaurants in all of Fort Lauderdale, and when I found out via a press release of its closing, I think I took it as hard as when my goldfish, Tigre, died (I'm still claiming he committed suicide over Thanksgiving break). I remember opening the e-mailed press release and struggled to understand why Cero -- a restaurant with sauces and combinations that were close to genius -- would be replaced.

After dining at Via Luna this week, I kinda sorta understand why. It seems the Ritz needed a change, as PR Director Michelle Payer said. Via Luna offers a beautiful menu of gorgeous seafood items and more that all have genuine flavors. I had a halibut over a pea risotto and jumbo shrimp over linguini with white wine sauce. 

As a card-carrying member of The Clean Plate Club, I appreciate a good, hearty meal. My hat's off to Via Luna as each plate left my sight with an approval from The Clean Plate Club. I noted to the guests in my party that the prices at Via Luna certainly aren't cheap (they started around $25 and went up from there). Because of that, I could appreciate the restaurant's obligation to serve a beautiful dish that's still filling.

I've known Executive Chef Christian Clair for a couple of years now, mostly via my business relation with the Ritz. I pulled him aside before dinner and asked him an honest question: What do you think of the change?

And, he gave me an honest response: "I'm still getting use to it. It's not my style. But I think it will be good." 

Chef Christian, it should be noted, is classically trained in French cooking. At this level, though, he can do anything. And do it well. So, while this type of cooking might not be his exact cup of tea, I think that's the mark of a brilliant chef -- one who can do unbelievable things to styles he doesn't favor.

Red-Light Special

I remember running a red light when I was 16 years old. Right as I gunned it in my Honda Accord V-6, my friend and passenger, also 16, muttered something I'll never forget. "Man, I try to never run a red," he said. "You can kill someone out there. Or, you can get killed."

As my grip on the steering wheel tightened, I remember thinking how mature my friend's statement was for his age. Truth be told, it's a bit of a no-brainer. But still, I began seeing with clarity how profound that little piece of advice was.

As Gov. Crist signed a recent bill allowing Florida to used red light camera on its state roads, I find it easy to remember my friend's advice and applaud him for his forward-thinking drive. If this bill does anything, perhaps it'll get Florida drivers to realize seeing red can mean life or death.

I used to live in Miami, where there's little to no adherence to traffic laws. As a driver, it was basically a catch-22: right as the light turned from red to green, you were either suppose to gun it within a quarter-second of the light change, or face an onslaught of honks from the drivers behind you as you waited to confirm it was clear to proceed.

Me, I always remembered my friend's voice. There's a fair chance someone would run a red light at an intersection, especially in Miami. Because of that, I always wait a second or two -- face the torrent of honks of drivers who felt a two-second wait was the equivalent of an eternity -- and look left and right before I accelerate forward.

Even though I lost touch with that friend after we graduated high school, I sincerely and subconscious thank him every time I'm behind the wheel. A lot of people don't give any credit to young drivers; In this case, I give him all the credit he deserves.

More Zero Gravity Photos!

A Workout Even I Can Appreciate

The best-kept secret in Broward County happens to be tucked on the 8th floor of a facility I hope I don't ever involuntarily get admitted to. You can find the area's best hidden gem inside Broward General Medical Center, where its little-known Wellness Center is bar none the only thing in about 10 years that actually made me want to start working out.

If you're anything like me, you don't voluntarily go to a hospital. Unless there's a life-threatening moment upon myself or a loved one, you wouldn't catch me dead inside there. But, the Wellness Center has since changed my stance on hospital visits.

I stumbled upon its existence at a recent gala celebration, where I saw a silent auction bid for an annual membership and personal training lessons. I did a little research on it and saw it also offered classes like yoga, pilates, tai chi and spin.

And when my boyfriend recently had surgery at Broward General's outpatient center, I decided to occupy my excruciating 11.5-hour wait at the hospital by visiting its gym and fitness room.

It must be noted that the last time I actually went into a gym not on assignment was back in college. And I vowed never to go back after doing a crazy ab workout that nearly punctured my small intestine. Gym rat, I am not. If you couldn't tell by looking at me, I'm not the most eager gym individual (I'll leave that to my co-worker, Jen, to write about on her blog). Even so, I found the Wellness Center totally un-intimidating. The place has lots to offer, including state-of-the-art facilities, superb trainers and a friendly staff.

So yeah, that's the motto for every gym in the world, right? As the Wellness Center's website states, it's "more than a health club"; it's a "serious approach to fitness." I couldn't agree more. There's professionals at the center who are certified by the American College of Sports Medicine and the National Strength and Conditioning Association. The folks at the center are trained in exercise physiology and nutrition, making the necessary recommendations to treat not just you, but your body and overall health.

Even better, it's just a down-to-earth wellness center with a down-to-earth client base. Leave the makeup and pressure to impress at other hoity-toity gyms.

Also, the membership fee is pretty manageable, too. There's a one-time initiation fee of $49 and monthly fees are only $30. When I showed up on Tuesday, the gentleman at the front even told me that there's a special that includes a two-person sign up for $25 a month each instead of the full $30.

But, shhhh. Keep it a secret, OK?

Ristorante Broward General Hospital

I was at Broward General Hospital's outpatient surgery department for 11.5 long hours yesterday. My boyfriend was having surgery to repair his left ACL, an injury he suffered four weeks ago while simply running toward a soccer ball that was 5 feet away (don't believe him if he tells you he tore it as he successfully attempted a bicycle kick to score the winning goal in the final seconds of his soccer game).

While there, I couldn't help but make the analogy how restaurant-like the service was at the outpatient department. A restaurant with no food to serve.

Here's my bulleted evidence of why:

• Upon arrival, we checked in at what appeared to be the hostess stand, or reception desk.
• After giving them our name, we received a beeper that vibrated and blinked its red lights when they are ready for you -- the same ones they give at restaurants.
• And just like at a restaurant, we waited. And waited.
• The "hostess" kept saying it'll "only be a few more minutes"; it turned out to be SEVERAL more minutes. They lied. Just like restaurants do.

All in all, the experience was pretty exceptional. The staff was great. My boyfriend got through surgery well and hopes the next six months of rehab go as easy as his surgery did. Meanwhile, I've been jumping up and down, doing twists and spins on my legs to show him how awesome it is to have two fully functional ACLs.