You Can't Put a Price on Convenience

My daughter Briana has a personal motto. She likes to say You can’t put a price on convenience. And her college friends can attest to the verity of that previous statement. I would like to think that her motto is a concept conceived as a result of the couple hundred thousand dollars my husband and I invested in her Bucknell University education as a management/finance major; but I fear it is not. Her motto I believe was conceived long ago. It is indicative of the cushy lifestyle that she has gotten accustomed to—it was the way she was raised. It is a lifestyle I supported despite the fact that I did not experience that same lifestyle as a child.

When Briana was little she loved all things soft and shiny. Briana did not play with baby dolls. Briana played with stuffed animals and beanie babies. And Briana loved to dress up. She loved diamonds and fur. So when Briana turned 8 she requested that we bring her to the zoo to see a real panda. Pandas (and seals) were her favorite animal. She also had a fascination for the Hope diamond—which she had learned about in class that year.

Fortuitously for her (and us) the only living panda bear in the continental US at that time was at the Washington Zoo (Ling Ling—a gift from China to the US during the Nixon administration) and the Hope diamond was on view at the Smithsonian. So we indulged our second born child’s wish and took a week long trip with the family to Washington DC.

We stayed in Washington at the ANA hotel. It was a 4 or 5 star property that sat on the edge of Foggy Bottom and Georgetown. It was an exclusive executive suite hotel. Diplomats and VIPs took residence there. And as hotel guests one morning we experienced the following: we were disallowed by the secret service from entering the elevators—the secret servicemen had earphones, walkie-talkies, black suits, and mirrored sunglasses—it was very exciting—particularly since it was pre-9/11 and there was not much to fear yet.

Anyway, our suite at the ANA hotel was on the special executive floor and 24/7 we could use our room key to access the exclusive executive lounge. Use of the lounge was complimentary to our suite. The lounge was stocked with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages as well as an array of snacks. Our favorite time of day was cocktail hour—it began at 5:00pm and was an hour long. Cocktail hour was awesome: sliced cold filet mignon, assorted cheeses, smoked salmon, caviar, cold grilled vegetables as well as an open bar.  And my husband and I would take our 3 little girls  there every day after our sightseeing to snack and have a glass of wine until we proceeded to dinner.  It was a real treat—especially the wine and the smoked salmon.

On one of the last days of our trip we were running a little bit late coming back to the hotel and I did not want to miss cocktail hour. So I was rushing everyone to get upstairs to the lounge. But Briana made us stop cold in the lobby. She needed to tell us something of utmost importance—and this is exactly what she said—it is verbatim—I swear on my father’s grave that I am not making one word up: Mommy. We need to stop and consult the concierge as to where we should eat for dinner. If he doesn’t make our reservation for us how will we know where to go? How will we get a reservation? He leaves at 6—we can’t miss him!

Now let me tell you the thoughts that ran through my head at that moment. First off, what 8 year old child uses the words consult and concierge in the same sentence? Then I thought Am I a bad mother? I didn’t even know what a concierge was until I was 26 and on my honeymoon at the Excelsior Hotel (my first 5 star hotel) in Rome. And when I saw my first concierge in Rome at age 26 at the Excelsior Hotel I was confused as to why hotel guests were talking to this guy sitting behind an ornately carved wooden desk with a gold leaf phone on top. My only frame of reference at that point was the motels I stayed at when I was a kid at the Jersey Shore. And I can assure you the Wave Crest Motel in Long Beach Island in New Jersey did not have a concierge. The closest thing we had to a concierge was the yellow pages left in the desk in the one room we (my mother, my father, my brother and I) all shared. My mother was our concierge.

I believe that it was at that precise moment that Briana surmised that you can’t put a price on convenience. She did not learn it in any business class at Bucknell—she learned it from the concierge at the ANA hotel.

My friends Steve and Joe like to tell everyone how they as kids spent their family vacation: eating pepper and egg sandwiches at Jones Beach. My husband, for his family vacation, took the B-64 bus from Dyker Heights with his sister and parents to Coney Island where he ate his pepper and egg sandwiches. My family vacations were a bit more upscale. We drove to the Jersey Shore for a 3 day respite where there was no concierge, no executive suite with daily cocktail hours, and no VIPs to be protected by the secret service. We went to the beach in the morning and the pool in the afternoon. We didn’t sight-see. The budget allowed for 2 nice dinners where we were allowed to order 1 soft drink/meal. And it was totally fine. But I have to admit, I liked staying at the ANA hotel way better than the Wave Crest motel. Briana may be correct---you can’t put a price on convenience. Maybe I am not a bad mother after all.