The Apprentice Box Clinic at Home Depot
Objective: Attend The Apprentice Box Clinic (the official title is You Can Build A Storage Chest, but I prefer The Apprentice Box Clinic)
When: April 2, 2005, 4:00 PM
Where: Home Depot
Obstacle: I asked an employee about the location of the clinic, after seeing no sign of it other than a small advertisement outside the store. He told me it was at 2:00 PM tomorrow, that all their clinics are on Sundays.
Outcome: Fortunately, I remained at Home Depot on a task long enough to hear a loudspeaker announcement a few minutes later: the clinic would be held in front of the store at 4:00 PM, as scheduled.
I headed outside, and chatted with Meghan, who was there with her two children. Like Craig's teammates, she initially doubted the greatness of the box. "When he first came up with that idea," Meghan said, "my husband I were like, 'that is the lamest idea,' and it worked." Meghan decided to come to the clinic because they're moving and in search of ideas for a playroom. Will they make a box? "Maybe."
As "Emma," a Home Depot employee walked by, I noticed her apron read "I work in all departments." Either that is one versatile apron or one versatile employee. Either way, very impressive. If it's Emma who's that multifaceted, how positively Apprenticesque of her.
Another female employee wandered by. For no apparent reason, she called out to a male employee, "Jason," "I'll break your leg in half." Now, that, Alex, is a threat. Probably still a joking one at that, but a lot closer to a threat than what Alex got from Chris.
Jason ignored her and insisted to no one in particular that he was leaving at 4:30. Then he made a cellphone call to someone, possibly named "dude."
Meanwhile a veritable smattering of eager Apprentice viewers waited. I fretted to a friendly-looking couple, "I'm losing faith in my ability to build a storage chest." The man responded, "You and me both."
Emma meandered by again and in a thoroughly friendly and eager manner, I informed her, "We're hungry to learn." Hey, maybe she didn't know. She smiled and said she knew. Just then, as if brought forth by the overwhelming force of our enthusiasm ... or possibly by coincidence ... the supply trolley approacheth. And it brought our clinic leader! I hesitate to describe him because he's almost a whistleblower, except for the part where he's an innocent who had no idea I would be publishing the less-than-flattering things he said about his employer. He's a man, and I'll call him "Leo" although it is not his name. Picture him however you like.
Emma surveyed Leo's trolley of lumber with dismay. "Oh," she said. "I thought everybody was gonna get their own kit."
A woman who had brought a small boy to the clinic asked Leo whether you can buy everything altogether that you need for the box. He said you have to go buy the supplies and build it. She then left, as did a couple of other people. Why would Home Depot sponsor a task that requires the creation of a "DO-IT-YOURSELF-KIT" (The Apprentice's capitalization) along with a clinic if they had no intention of selling the kits? Weren't they setting up consumers to be disappointed in Home Depot? A box kit could have been problematic. They would be quite large and it would be an expensive, space-consuming proposition if it was a washout. Maybe the profit margin didn't justify the floorspace usage even if it was a hit. Or maybe at the end of the day, Home Depot didn't believe in the box any more than Craig's teammates. They would give it a try with the clinics, but they weren't about to put a really serious investment into it. They didn't have that much faith in it.
Leo set up a table. Attendance varied throughout the clinic, but the peak was probably near the beginning, when I counted 10 adults and 5 children. He then distributed a stapled set of handouts and sent his assistant to make more copies. The cover sheet read "You Can Build A Storage Chest VERSION 2 Clinic Leader Guide." Score! The Clinic Leader's Guide; it was like having the teacher's version! Indeed, this wasn't meant for our eyes. It was probably more interesting than the version intended for us, though, so I didn't mind.
Now I can play Home Depot Clinic Leader At Home
This page instructs the clinic leader to "Make copies of the handout and plans found at the end of the clinic leader guide to be distributed to participants." However, we didn't get that handout or that version of the plans.
Our clinic leader used pine, but recommended birch. Or as he put it, "I used crappy wood. I should have used something better." He added, "If it's thicker you could probably sit on it." However, if you're going to use chalkboard paint, he said, "there's no point in using a more expensive wood."
To put together the box, Leo advised the glue-first-nail-second method. Helpful tip: "Glue fills in spaces if you're off a little bit." He told us the hardest part is cutting out the pieces. "So the store doesn't have the cut-out pieces?" asked a woman. No, but they will cut them for you. This would have sounded like a better deal if Leo hadn't kept pointing out that his pieces were the wrong size. "That saw doesn't cut very well," he complained. Fair enough, only why use it? Disappointed by how far off the box top piece was cut, Leo commented, "That almost says don't bother coming to the store to have it cut 'cause it's gonna end up like this."
A man -- the same one I talked to before the clinic -- asked about chalkboard paint. He was advised to use primer first. This was quite a moment for the box, really. Leo was trying, but the clinic was not going according to plan. His box was uneven; he would need a lot of glue to fill in all the spaces. If Home Depot couldn't help their own employee build a good box, how could they help us build one? Yet this man was still determined to have his box. Maybe it's hard to destroy enthusiasm for a great idea.
As Leo worked, a more sinister version of George watched him. At first he stood among the "clinic participants." Then, oddly, he watched the clinic from behind the table, his arms stiffly folded. At one point, Leo turned the box on its side to work on it. This blocked my view of EvilGeorge and amused me. When he lowered the box a few minutes later, EvilGeorge was no longer there. Magic!
Someone asked about the Elmer's wood carpenter glue Leo was using and he deemed it "the cheapest" and "the best."
Someone else wondered about the box's new top. Our clinic leader said, "They had a hinged top; they changed it to a lift-off top, for, I guess, safety concerns ... mashed fingers. Lawyers gotta eat too." Leo liked the old top better, but said as soon as anything touches it, it will snap down quickly. He gave instructions on how to change the plans we were given to use a hinged top. The man I spoke to was interested in a hinged top for his child's toychest. Great. He asked a flurry of questions toward the end of the clinic, then left with his female companion. I asked whether they were really going to make a box and she said, "Hopefully!" with a tone that seemed to marry optimism and fear.
This list details the changes Home Depot made to Magna's box design
Leo was a really likeable guy, but he didn't have enough time to prepare for this clinic, and it showed sometimes. Some of the things he said didn't inspire a lot of confidence, coming from a clinic leader. I've mentioned some, and there were others. Things like:
Some of went wrong was probably his fault, like giving us the wrong copies. Trump would also not be fond of his lack of company loyalty for speaking so openly about Home Depot's shortcomings. However, sometimes being willing to talk about such things is the only way to make problems known and affect change.
By the end of the clinic, the only other "clinic participants were a couple and their small son (who mostly kept his back turned -- perhaps he prefers other shapes to boxes). The man asked more questions about chalkboard paint.
After the clinic, I hung out with Leo and his very quiet assistant as they continued working on the box. "Once I start working on something, I have to finish it," Leo explained. At this point, it was a box, but the moulding wasn't attached, nor was the lid. He would get to keep the box. I helped him measure his wood, which is not a euphemism, and he told me how he feels about nailing stuff, which is also not a euphemism.
During the clinic, Leo had talked about watching the Pandora's Box episode of The Apprentice with his girlfriend. He was surprised to see Home Depot featured in the episode. Home Depot didn't give him a head's up about the episode, far from it. Although the episode aired on March 24, Leo was told he was teaching the clinic on April 1, the day before the clinic. I didn't ask whether he thought it was an April Fool's joke. "That's not a lot of notice," I said. "Typical Home Depot," he replied. Although the clinic leader guide calls for a box to be made ahead of time for display purposes, Leo made the box for the first time during the clinic. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. It's impressive and lucky that he did as well as he did.
Home Depot seemed so unprepared for the clinic. Leo said the "version 2" modifications to the box design were made very recently. The episode was filmed in October, so it seems a bit late to notice safety problems with the Magna design. An employee told me that the box clinic was the next afternoon. I only saw one small advertisement for the clinic, and otherwise would have had no idea anthing Apprentice/Box/Storage Chest-related was to take place. If Home Depot isn't very interested in their own clinic, why should anyone else care? The clinic leader guide instructs them to "Always 'sell the project'" but the store didn't even try to sell the clinic to their customers. And it's harder for the clinic leader to "sell the project" when they have so little time to prepare. He pretty much had to focus on trying to build the box correctly.
The Apprentice 3 candidates, working on an artificially short timeframe, were also told one day ahead of time to prepare for a clinic (and they had to decide what to make). They did, at least, have a much larger budget ($3,500). They also got to wow the crowd with fancy paints and such. People attending the clinic after watching the episode were bound to expect a similar experience, and be disappointed. Our clinic leader didn't follow the clinic guidelines as to things like getting us involved with the making of the box. He likely didn't need the distraction when he was insufficiently familiar with how to make the box. The guidelines didn't call for anywhere near as interactive a clinic as Magna's, anyway. At the end of the day, it was more like Net Worth's clinic than Magna's.
This isn't entirely a bad thing. It was a bit bumpy, but it was well-intentioned, enjoyable, and interesting. It could be much more. These clinics are a great opportunity to make money in the short term while earning customer loyalty. Home Depot could learn a lot from Magna about how to run a successful how-to clinic.
When: April 2, 2005, 4:00 PM
Where: Home Depot
Obstacle: I asked an employee about the location of the clinic, after seeing no sign of it other than a small advertisement outside the store. He told me it was at 2:00 PM tomorrow, that all their clinics are on Sundays.
Outcome: Fortunately, I remained at Home Depot on a task long enough to hear a loudspeaker announcement a few minutes later: the clinic would be held in front of the store at 4:00 PM, as scheduled.
I headed outside, and chatted with Meghan, who was there with her two children. Like Craig's teammates, she initially doubted the greatness of the box. "When he first came up with that idea," Meghan said, "my husband I were like, 'that is the lamest idea,' and it worked." Meghan decided to come to the clinic because they're moving and in search of ideas for a playroom. Will they make a box? "Maybe."
As "Emma," a Home Depot employee walked by, I noticed her apron read "I work in all departments." Either that is one versatile apron or one versatile employee. Either way, very impressive. If it's Emma who's that multifaceted, how positively Apprenticesque of her.
Another female employee wandered by. For no apparent reason, she called out to a male employee, "Jason," "I'll break your leg in half." Now, that, Alex, is a threat. Probably still a joking one at that, but a lot closer to a threat than what Alex got from Chris.
Jason ignored her and insisted to no one in particular that he was leaving at 4:30. Then he made a cellphone call to someone, possibly named "dude."
Meanwhile a veritable smattering of eager Apprentice viewers waited. I fretted to a friendly-looking couple, "I'm losing faith in my ability to build a storage chest." The man responded, "You and me both."
Emma meandered by again and in a thoroughly friendly and eager manner, I informed her, "We're hungry to learn." Hey, maybe she didn't know. She smiled and said she knew. Just then, as if brought forth by the overwhelming force of our enthusiasm ... or possibly by coincidence ... the supply trolley approacheth. And it brought our clinic leader! I hesitate to describe him because he's almost a whistleblower, except for the part where he's an innocent who had no idea I would be publishing the less-than-flattering things he said about his employer. He's a man, and I'll call him "Leo" although it is not his name. Picture him however you like.
Emma surveyed Leo's trolley of lumber with dismay. "Oh," she said. "I thought everybody was gonna get their own kit."
A woman who had brought a small boy to the clinic asked Leo whether you can buy everything altogether that you need for the box. He said you have to go buy the supplies and build it. She then left, as did a couple of other people. Why would Home Depot sponsor a task that requires the creation of a "DO-IT-YOURSELF-KIT" (The Apprentice's capitalization) along with a clinic if they had no intention of selling the kits? Weren't they setting up consumers to be disappointed in Home Depot? A box kit could have been problematic. They would be quite large and it would be an expensive, space-consuming proposition if it was a washout. Maybe the profit margin didn't justify the floorspace usage even if it was a hit. Or maybe at the end of the day, Home Depot didn't believe in the box any more than Craig's teammates. They would give it a try with the clinics, but they weren't about to put a really serious investment into it. They didn't have that much faith in it.
Leo set up a table. Attendance varied throughout the clinic, but the peak was probably near the beginning, when I counted 10 adults and 5 children. He then distributed a stapled set of handouts and sent his assistant to make more copies. The cover sheet read "You Can Build A Storage Chest VERSION 2 Clinic Leader Guide." Score! The Clinic Leader's Guide; it was like having the teacher's version! Indeed, this wasn't meant for our eyes. It was probably more interesting than the version intended for us, though, so I didn't mind.
Now I can play Home Depot Clinic Leader At Home
This page instructs the clinic leader to "Make copies of the handout and plans found at the end of the clinic leader guide to be distributed to participants." However, we didn't get that handout or that version of the plans.
Our clinic leader used pine, but recommended birch. Or as he put it, "I used crappy wood. I should have used something better." He added, "If it's thicker you could probably sit on it." However, if you're going to use chalkboard paint, he said, "there's no point in using a more expensive wood."
To put together the box, Leo advised the glue-first-nail-second method. Helpful tip: "Glue fills in spaces if you're off a little bit." He told us the hardest part is cutting out the pieces. "So the store doesn't have the cut-out pieces?" asked a woman. No, but they will cut them for you. This would have sounded like a better deal if Leo hadn't kept pointing out that his pieces were the wrong size. "That saw doesn't cut very well," he complained. Fair enough, only why use it? Disappointed by how far off the box top piece was cut, Leo commented, "That almost says don't bother coming to the store to have it cut 'cause it's gonna end up like this."
A man -- the same one I talked to before the clinic -- asked about chalkboard paint. He was advised to use primer first. This was quite a moment for the box, really. Leo was trying, but the clinic was not going according to plan. His box was uneven; he would need a lot of glue to fill in all the spaces. If Home Depot couldn't help their own employee build a good box, how could they help us build one? Yet this man was still determined to have his box. Maybe it's hard to destroy enthusiasm for a great idea.
As Leo worked, a more sinister version of George watched him. At first he stood among the "clinic participants." Then, oddly, he watched the clinic from behind the table, his arms stiffly folded. At one point, Leo turned the box on its side to work on it. This blocked my view of EvilGeorge and amused me. When he lowered the box a few minutes later, EvilGeorge was no longer there. Magic!
Someone asked about the Elmer's wood carpenter glue Leo was using and he deemed it "the cheapest" and "the best."
Someone else wondered about the box's new top. Our clinic leader said, "They had a hinged top; they changed it to a lift-off top, for, I guess, safety concerns ... mashed fingers. Lawyers gotta eat too." Leo liked the old top better, but said as soon as anything touches it, it will snap down quickly. He gave instructions on how to change the plans we were given to use a hinged top. The man I spoke to was interested in a hinged top for his child's toychest. Great. He asked a flurry of questions toward the end of the clinic, then left with his female companion. I asked whether they were really going to make a box and she said, "Hopefully!" with a tone that seemed to marry optimism and fear.
This list details the changes Home Depot made to Magna's box design
Leo was a really likeable guy, but he didn't have enough time to prepare for this clinic, and it showed sometimes. Some of the things he said didn't inspire a lot of confidence, coming from a clinic leader. I've mentioned some, and there were others. Things like:
"You can tell it's a little off if you feel the bottom but other than that ..."
"You see how prepared I am." (said a mite sarcastically)
"Oh ... d'oh." (while trying to figure out where the moulding should go, and noticing that something wasn't right)
"Did I put it together right?"
Some of went wrong was probably his fault, like giving us the wrong copies. Trump would also not be fond of his lack of company loyalty for speaking so openly about Home Depot's shortcomings. However, sometimes being willing to talk about such things is the only way to make problems known and affect change.
By the end of the clinic, the only other "clinic participants were a couple and their small son (who mostly kept his back turned -- perhaps he prefers other shapes to boxes). The man asked more questions about chalkboard paint.
After the clinic, I hung out with Leo and his very quiet assistant as they continued working on the box. "Once I start working on something, I have to finish it," Leo explained. At this point, it was a box, but the moulding wasn't attached, nor was the lid. He would get to keep the box. I helped him measure his wood, which is not a euphemism, and he told me how he feels about nailing stuff, which is also not a euphemism.
During the clinic, Leo had talked about watching the Pandora's Box episode of The Apprentice with his girlfriend. He was surprised to see Home Depot featured in the episode. Home Depot didn't give him a head's up about the episode, far from it. Although the episode aired on March 24, Leo was told he was teaching the clinic on April 1, the day before the clinic. I didn't ask whether he thought it was an April Fool's joke. "That's not a lot of notice," I said. "Typical Home Depot," he replied. Although the clinic leader guide calls for a box to be made ahead of time for display purposes, Leo made the box for the first time during the clinic. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. It's impressive and lucky that he did as well as he did.
Home Depot seemed so unprepared for the clinic. Leo said the "version 2" modifications to the box design were made very recently. The episode was filmed in October, so it seems a bit late to notice safety problems with the Magna design. An employee told me that the box clinic was the next afternoon. I only saw one small advertisement for the clinic, and otherwise would have had no idea anthing Apprentice/Box/Storage Chest-related was to take place. If Home Depot isn't very interested in their own clinic, why should anyone else care? The clinic leader guide instructs them to "Always 'sell the project'" but the store didn't even try to sell the clinic to their customers. And it's harder for the clinic leader to "sell the project" when they have so little time to prepare. He pretty much had to focus on trying to build the box correctly.
The Apprentice 3 candidates, working on an artificially short timeframe, were also told one day ahead of time to prepare for a clinic (and they had to decide what to make). They did, at least, have a much larger budget ($3,500). They also got to wow the crowd with fancy paints and such. People attending the clinic after watching the episode were bound to expect a similar experience, and be disappointed. Our clinic leader didn't follow the clinic guidelines as to things like getting us involved with the making of the box. He likely didn't need the distraction when he was insufficiently familiar with how to make the box. The guidelines didn't call for anywhere near as interactive a clinic as Magna's, anyway. At the end of the day, it was more like Net Worth's clinic than Magna's.
This isn't entirely a bad thing. It was a bit bumpy, but it was well-intentioned, enjoyable, and interesting. It could be much more. These clinics are a great opportunity to make money in the short term while earning customer loyalty. Home Depot could learn a lot from Magna about how to run a successful how-to clinic.
posted by trill42 at 2:41 p.m.
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