My girls got RollerCoaster Tycoon 2 this past Christmas. It’s a great little simulation game where they get to create and run their own amusement park, but there’s more to it than just building rides. By playing the game, they are learning the basic tenets of business management and coming to understand the delicate balance that is required to run a successful business.

For instance, they get to set the price of admission to the amusement parks they build. If they charge too much, nobody comes; if they charge too little, they don’t have enough money for maintenance and expansion. They have to hire handymen to empty the trash, maintain the lawns, and keep the paths puke-free (I kid you not). They have to hire mechanics to keep the rides running. And they can even hire a guy in a large panda costume to walk around the park and entertain the people who are standing in line.

But if they don’t hire enough handymen, the park gets gross and people leave. If they don’t hire enough mechanics, the rides break down and people leave. And if they don’t hire the guy in a large panda costume, people get bored standing in long lines and leave.

And in the user manual it really emphasizes the importance of good customer relations:

Caring for Customers

The satisfaction of your park guests is probably your most vital concern. Happy visitors stay in the park, spend more money, and (through reputation and word of mouth) draw other guests to your site. Unhappy guests leave with cash in hand.

How do you know what your visitors are thinking and feeling? As manager, you have access to powerful polling and reporting tools that let you monitor the thoughts and actions of every guest in your park.

The other day, I walked into the office and Emma was engrossed in one of her amusement park creations.

“Hey, Emma, whatcha doing?”

“I’m just making sure everyone in my park is happy.”

That’s my girl. In many ways this type of game was tailor-made for Emma. In any activity, she always makes sure that everyone is feeling included and having a good time. She’s caring, conscientious, attentive to other people’s needs. She is my little Customer Service Representative.

And as I watched, my little Customer Service Representative used the Guest Summary Window to gauge the happiness level of all of the guests in her park. She then used the Mini-Map to zoom in on a particularly disgruntled fellow standing in line for one of the roller coasters.

She clicked on the Grab tool, picked up the unhappy patron up by the scruff of the neck, and carried him over to the small lake that housed the rowboat rentals.

Then, without the slightest pause, she let go. The dissatisfied customer landed in the water with a splash, bobbed on the surface for a few seconds, and then went under.

She then went back to the Guest Summary Window and started scanning the crowds again.

“Wha…what in the world are you doing, Emma?”

“I’m getting rid of all the people who are complaining.”

“But,” I sputtered, “I think the idea behind the game is that you’re supposed to find out why they’re complaining and then solve their problems.”

“Oh, I know why they’re complaining,” she replied.

“Why are they complaining?”

“They’re complaining because there are no bathrooms.”

“Then why don’t you build some bathrooms?”

“Well, I had some bathrooms, but I had to demolish them to make some room for a new ride.”

“Then why don’t you build more bathrooms?”

“I can’t. I used up the last of my money to build the ride.”

And so I watched as my little Customer Service Assassin made her way systematically through the park, looking for anyone else who had the gall to be displeased by the lack of facilities. And after the summary execution of about a half-dozen more urine-engorged malcontents, there wasn’t a single dissatisfied customer in the park.

I had to hand it to her. With a clear mandate to keep her customers happy, but without the budgetary resources necessary to meet their needs, she’d found another way to achieve 100% customer satisfaction.

NORDSTROM Children’s Shoes

Visit Children’s Shoes Friday & Saturday, February 18th and 19th.

Come get your toenails painted. Piggy Polish “Peticures” on Friday, February 18th

Paul Mitchell will be on hand from 12-4 PM doing updos on Saturday, February 19th.

Man, just say the words “Piggy Polish” and “updos” and I am there! So, the girls and I headed down to Nordstrom on Friday for “Peticures” and Saturday for a taste of the hair glamour that is conspicuously absent from their lives when they’re with me.

You see, while I am pretty good at most of the girly stuff associated with…well, girls…I can’t do hair. I not only lack a basic knowledge of hairstyling techniques, I’m completely unfamiliar with the tools. I’ve only used a blow dryer once in my life (during an ill-conceived, junior high, pre-dance grooming session that is still referred to as “The Dandelion Incident”) and the thought of using a curling iron leaves me clammy.

I know women who have used curling irons for decades who still manage to char their flesh on a regular basis, so, as a rank amateur, I’m a little reticent to brandish a wand of white-hot death near my daughters’ faces. Perhaps if my morning grooming ritual growing up had carried with it the ever-present possibility of grotesque, disfiguring burns or self-immolation (like applying my contact lenses with a soldering gun, or trimming my sideburns with an acetylene torch) I wouldn’t be so squeamish. But, as it stands, when they’re with me they usually have to settle for a few spritzes with a squirt bottle, a thorough brushing…and, if I’m feeling especially bold, perhaps a few barrettes.

So I went to this thing hoping to pick up a few “idées de coiffure” that I could use at home, but this probably wasn’t the place to go for practical hairstyling tips.

When it was over, Emma ended up with a remarkable recreation of the fountains of Versaille:

And Zoë’s hair was like an Escher woodcut. It seemed to turn in on itself and circle around and turn in on itself and circle around and turn in on itself and circle around…:

But even though I didn’t learn much in the way practical techniques, I studied the process carefully enough that I’m pretty confident that I could recreate the hairstyles if the girls ever get invited to a cotillion…or the Westminster Dog Show.

This entry is a week late…

We ended up staying at the park until 9:30 on Saturday night to watch the fireworks and by the time we got back to the hotel I was too exhausted to put together two coherent sentences. So I collapsed into bed and thought, “That’s OK, I’ll have plenty of time after we drive home tomorrow night to write about both days.”

Then, at 2:30 in the morning I awoke to find myself on the phone, probably five sentences into a conversation:

“What port are they using?” I asked. “Do we know what IP address they’re trying to get to?”

I honestly had no idea what had taken place before that, but I must have been at least semi-coherent because the gentleman on the other end of the line didn’t appear to be overly alarmed or amused by anything I’d said up to that point.

This is quite a change from when I was an adolescent. Members of my family used to vie for the opportunity to wake me up because I was always good for some bizarre, out-of-context quote while emerging from my early morning dreamfest:

“Grettir, it’s time to wake up.”

“Wha…? I…I…can’t. The watermelon is too expensive.”

…or…

“Grettir, you need to get up. You’re going to be late for school.”

“Could you let Cookie Monster know that his shoes won’t be ready until next Tuesday.”

However, now that I’m an adult, I seem to be capable of emerging from the soundest of slumbers and carrying on lengthy technical discussions without actually knowing what I’m doing. But these middle-of-the-night phone calls are never good news. They don’t come very often, but when they do I know that the next few days will be consumed with work. (Two weeks before we left for Disneyland I went 3 days with only 7 hours of sleep.) I was able to put off the emergency for a while, but I got a follow-up call about a half-hour north of Cedar City on the drive home and here we are seven days later and I’m still incapable of putting together two coherent sentences. (Exhibit A: That last paragraph.)

So, here are some semi-coherent photos of our trip instead:

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls… Disney proudly presents our spectacular festival pageant of nighttime magic and imagination in thousands of sparkling lights and electro-syntho-magnetic musical sounds — Disney’s Electrical Parade!”