While on a six-hour drive home from Louisiana last week, I received an alert on my phone that the security cameras at our home were offline.

That’s not especially odd, as we live in an area that seems to have the power flicker or go out anytime the wind blows just a little.

After 15 minutes or so, the cameras had not come back online.

I texted my neighbor to see if there was an issue, and he told me the power hadn’t gone out, but the fiber-optic internet provider in our neighborhood was down.

My wife then got a message that the internet was down but should be restored within 24 hours.

I laughed and asked if she had misread that.

Seriously? Was there a hurricane I missed?

Instantly giving a generic 24-hour repair estimate seemed…well…almost disrespectful.

We arrived home and were reminded of how many things we rely on high-speed internet for.

Sure, we were able to get by using our smartphones, and these really were first-world problems.

But it was what I would call the incompetent messaging of this nationally known provider that got under my skin.

After half a day or so, and still with no service, I poked around the app and then their website trying to find a phone number.

I just wanted to hear a human tell me what was actually going on.

While that may make me sound like a Boomer (I’m actually not, but Boomer-adjacent), I always feel more confident that a problem is being addressed when a human explains things to me.

It was obvious that the last thing this company wanted to make easy was actually talking to someone.

And their AI-powered “live chat” was infuriatingly generic and not helpful at all.

I’m always bemused when a company’s “contact us” function only proves that they’d really rather you didn’t.

Twelve hours into the outage, neighbors started texting links and asking each other what they knew about other internet providers.

I was reminded of something I’ve preached to bankers for ages.

Most customers don’t expect perfection. But they do expect responsiveness and courtesy.

It’s when things don’t go quite right that people (and companies) tend to show you how much they respect you.

How easy are you and your team to reach when a customer reaches out to you?

I can honestly say that, growing up, I never saw the appeal of “tailgating” at NFL games.

Leaving your home around dawn, cooking in parking lots, sweating (or freezing) out in the elements, and having to use porta potties wasn’t exactly a big draw.

Then, we became season ticket holders for the Houston Texans, and a good friend of mine and some of his friends became tailgating aficionados.

Later, one of my sons absolutely fell in love with it, and all these years later, I’ve become part of the festival atmosphere in a parking lot adjacent to the long-abandoned Astrodome ten times or so a year.

Being wired like I’m wired, I am constantly analyzing what is going on out there.

I used to joke with managers that I was amazed that the same person who had trouble being on time for an 8:00 AM shift would consistently beat you to a dock half an hour away at 5:00 AM to go fishing.

Or they’d be early, dressed, and waiting for you with a Starbucks for that early-morning tee time.

And you don’t get paid to fish. Or play golf. Or work on a Habitat home. Or volunteer at a church function. Or coach a youth team.

I’ve always been amazed and impressed by the amount of time, energy, resources, and effort people will put into things that give them enjoyment, purpose, or a sense of community.

I actually think that most of the folks in a hot and humid Houston parking lot at 8:00 AM on a Sunday morning are there as much for the sense of community as anything else.

I suspect that many don’t laugh as much, give and get as many hugs, or share as many personal stories anywhere else.

Okay, sure. We get it.

We just need to make our work environment more like a tailgating experience!

Brisket and BBQ chicken in the drive-up windows, right?

Of course not.

Work is work. And trying too hard to make a workplace “fun” can sometimes feel more forced than fun.

But there are lessons to be learned from the places people willingly show up early, pitch in, laugh, and genuinely enjoy being around each other.

People like feeling that they belong. They like being around people they trust and enjoy.

They like knowing that their presence matters and that they’re part of something bigger than themselves.

It’s not a slogan or a “campaign.”

It’s a culture that leaders define, build, and defend.