Ever get the feeling when you’re experiencing service, whether it be at a new restaurant, during your travels, or just part of your everyday normal activities, that it just feels all the same? It’s not new, it’s not fresh, and it certainly doesn’t jump off the table at you.

I have to admit, I have.

That got me thinking (which is a dangerous thing sometimes - like now, at 12:22 in the morning) about something that I saw recently that really caught my eye - a piece by one of my favourite artists, Josh Keyes. It’s name, Treadmill (shown below):

Josh’s mission, which unlike the beginning of every episode of the A-Team, has already been clearly stated:

My intention is to create work that asks questions about the implications of urban sprawl and its impact on the environment. I am interested in creating psychological narratives set in closed systems that express the behavior of—and the interaction between—humans and animals.

This piece was a response to traveling from one place to another. I was thinking of how every town begins to look the same—with the same restaurants and shopping malls—no matter how far you travel. The image of a treadmill seemed like an interesting metaphor to describe this endless sameness.

And there it is…he’s nailed what I’m on about: ‘endless sameness’. That’s precisely what I mean when I say that service, unless differentiated somehow, like:

• the Marriott Delray Beach’s pool attendant;
• the personality and greeting at Flying Tiger in Vancouver;
• the uniqueness and delivery of your stay at le germain in Toronto; or
• the flair and quality at cha cha cha’s in San Francisco
  

(to name but a few), is bland. And bland service, in my mind, is about as appealing as watching endless Price is Right re-runs on those days you used to stay at home sick from school.

Plinko.

darren