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Choice Mindsets

Choice Mindsets

Matt Hoying: “Kari didn’t like Spaceballs.”


Gasps were heard. Jaws dropped. Somewhere, Mel Brooks felt a disturbance in the Schwartz.

After returning from our Lexington company trip last week, Graphic Designer Kari casually mentioned she didn’t love Spaceballs, the 1987 sci-fi parody that’s long been a staple of Choice One company trip bus rides. For those unfamiliar, Spaceballs is a spoof of Star Wars—complete with characters like Dark Helmet, Yogurt, and a villain named Pizza the Hutt. It’s absurd, quotable, and deeply beloved by many of us.

And yet… Kari didn’t love it.

Despite this cinematic betrayal, we managed to carry on with our Lexington trip. We visited horse farms, held a Fowling tournament (which is somehow not bowling or football but both?), toured Keeneland, scavenged through a winery, tasted bourbon like professionals (read: not professionals), and sang our hearts out at karaoke (that’s Kari on the right in the photo, belting “Redneck Woman”).

In the end, while Kari may not appreciate the comedic genius of Director Mel Brooks or the timeless charm of a half-man, half-dog named Barf, we still love her. Even if she’s more The Proposal than Pizza the Hutt.

 

Choice Mindsets: “A Trip Down Memory Lane””

Choice One in the Las Vegas airport, 1997.

Today, many of us from Choice One are headed to Lexington, KY. If you didn’t know, we take a trip together once every two years over a weekend to hang out with each other, meet spouses/guests, and make some long-lasting memories. Indeed, it’s easy to reflect on the completely uneventful history of Choice One travel. After all, we’re a well-oiled machine when it comes to logistics, punctuality, and quiet evenings in hotel rooms… right?

Let’s take a stroll down memory lane:

·     Las Vegas, 1997: Jeff Kunk nearly missed the flight home, proving that blackjack and time management don’t mix.

·     Louisville, 2013: We thought we saw ghosts in underground zipline caves.

·     Pittsburgh, 2021: We were extra glad our buses had bathrooms when we got stuck in a four-hour I-70 traffic jam.

·     Ann Arbor, 2015: We overwhelmed a tiny hotel bar with a 50:1 guest-to-bartender ratio. The bartender probably still wakes up in a cold sweat.

·     Cleveland, 2019: We found rats in an alley and some of us saw Baker Mayfield at a hockey game. Browns fan Mitch Thobe, whose back was turned, remains unconvinced.

So what’s in store for Lexington? Will our bus survive? Will we find another celebrity in an unexpected place? One thing’s for sure: we’ll make memories, whether we plan to or not.

 

 

Inquiring Mindsets: “Caption this photo of Andy Shuman.”

“Is this the coffee shop?”

-Craig Eley, Traffic Engineer

 

“It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s just a Choice One survey drone*.”

-Troy Niese, Project manager

 

“Why do cats land on their feet but toast always lands butter-side down?”

-Holly Fannon Accountant

 

“He looks like someone dropped him in a Call of Duty map.”

-Becca Getts, Project Engineer

 

“When you dress for a casual stroll but accidentally end up supervising a construction site…”

-Brian Goubeaux, Designer

 

“I’m here to reinforce the vibe, not the concrete.”

-Brittany Clinehens, Recruiting/HR

 

*Yes! Choice One offers licensed drone surveying capabilities!

 

Dane Sommer: “First pitch scheduled for 3:34pm.”
Allen Bertke: “Stealth bomber flyover at 3:33pm?”

Another Friday afternoon, another random Choice One contest. This time? Engineering co-op and Trine University pitcher Tyler Stueve was challenged by engineer Dane Sommer to a little bit of baseball. Naturally, we all paused to enjoy the sunshine and witness the showdown.

From the batting helmets to the catcher’s gear, this wasn’t just a casual contest in the parking lot. This was a full-blown, semi-professional, borderline-MLB event. There were warm-ups. There were stretches. Dane prepped with four chicken sandwiches, one protein muffin, and some chocolate milk. Was there a flyover? Probably, but obviously we couldn’t see a plane with “stealth” in its title.

In the end, Dane got a questionable hit that may or may not have gotten past the second baseman—if there had been a second baseman in the field. It’s unclear who won the contest, but one thing’s for sure: it was a spectacle. Best of luck back at Trine this fall, Tyler—if you can survive a Choice One “official” baseball challenge, college ball should be a breeze.

 

Kendra Peterson: “I haven’t even been here for a month, and the spammers are using my email?!”

Kendra, our new Loveland-area Business Development and Municipal Relations Specialist, hasn’t even hit her one-month mark at Choice One, and already she’s made it “big”—as in, big enough for scammers to target a brand-new Choice One email account.

It didn’t take long for a bad actor to impersonate Kendra in a spam email to our HR administrator Brittany. Thankfully, the scam didn’t fool anyone. Adam Gill stepped in quickly to let Kendra know about our very real and definitely binding HR policy: “Anytime someone pretends to be you in a spam email, you have to bring in doughnuts. It’s a recent update we made in the employee handbook.” (Not sure if that clause was also spammed to HR, but we’re looking into it.)

No pressure Kendra, but in case you were wondering, most of us like sprinkles. And cream filled. And also the ones with frosting and little crumbles on top. So welcome to Choice One. You know you’re officially part of the team when you’re brought into the doughnut economy.

 

Connor Sperdute: “How deep is the pond?”

If you missed it, our Loveland office recently moved to a new building—complete with a scenic pond just outside the windows. The pond offers peaceful views, the sound of trickling water, and, most importantly, a perfect excuse for a wager.

As frequent designers of similar retention ponds, we couldn’t help but wonder: how deep is it? What started as casual curiosity quickly escalated into a full-blown competition. Guesses were collected, doughnuts were promised, and the stakes were set. With a tape measure in hand, Troy Niese led the official measurement, while Rob Pressel provided moral support (and a flotation device). After some careful maneuvering and minor splashing, the official depth at the edge of the pond was revealed: 2.8 feet.

The farthest off? Brian Schmidt at 11 feet, as he unfortunately guessed the depth at the middle of the pond. A bold strategy—but not the right one. The result? Brian bought doughnuts for the office, and the rest of us got to enjoy the sweetly glazed taste of victory. Turns out, the pond isn’t that deep. But our competitive spirit? Bottomless.