After Wednesday's newsroom announcement -- that advertising revenues continue to hemorrhage and, so, we need to prepare for another round of buyouts -- I didn't greet the following morning in the best frame of mind.There I was, around 9 a.m., waiting for the No. 9 bus at Northeast 24th and Broadway and thinking ahead to a list of things I had to get done.
Bus comes around the corner and stops. Doors swing open. I defer to a young, dreadlocked guy with a book bag (no doubt on his way to summer classes at Portland State) and then step onto the bus. Put my prepaid ticket in the slot and put my hand out for a transfer. The driver, a large black woman, pauses and looks me directly in the eye.
"That blue shirt look good on you," she says.
"Thanks," I reply with a smile. "And yours does, too."
After all, her TriMet uniform shirt was exactly the same shade of blue as mine. The color of a blue jay.
It took all of five seconds, but that simple exchange demonstrated the power of a compliment. With seven words, that driver changed my whole outlook for the day. Made me think of when I've done that with strangers -- surprising someone in the elevator with a compliment about her shoes or hair, thanking a short-order cook for a great meal, etc.
It's nice to be on the receiving end but, invariably, it feels better to be the giver of the compliment. Especially when you help someone get over a case of the blues.
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