I hated writing thank-you notes as a child, but I had no choice: My mother was adamant   about honoring other people's kindness and generosity. But now after a childhood spent crafting those notes, the music of gratitude flows naturally from me. I hire Brant to build an arbor   around my front door. I drew it exactly as I wanted, and he realized my vision perfectly. Surprised at how the arbor's beauty uplifted me every time I stepped into my house, I called Brant a few weeks after the arbor went up. He answered the phone defensively. "What can I do for you?" he asked, his voice cold and distant. "You can say, 'You're welcome,' " I responded. "I don't understand," Brant shot back. "I am calling to say 'Thank you.' '' Silence. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I love my arbor, and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your work." More silence. "I've been doing this work for 20 years, and no one has ever called to thank me for it," said Brant. "People only call me when they have problems." He was doubtful. I also had a similar experience with L.J. He answered my questions, didn't push, and gave me space to think and decide. I wrote to let him know that he completely exceeded   my expectations of what a beat-them-down car sales experience would be like, and that I was happy with my car choice. L.J. called me a few days later. He said that this was the first thank-you note in the history of the dealership. Are we really living in an age when feedback   only closes with complaint? It seems to me that when we focus on problems, we only have dissatisfaction and complaint. But when we focus on celebrating goodness, we are likely to turn it into something positive. L. J. probably worked as a   _  .
driver guide salesman repairman