I've had my share of complaints about Sprint in the past - notably, this one - but I have to admit, ever since the company's CEO started wandering aimlessly through Central Park or Impressive Office Buildings in black-and-white TV ads, I think the customer service has actually gotten better.
Now, for example, when they lie and tell me that since I just renwed my contract for two years through a special promotion, they won't make me re-renew it again when I buy a new phone three weeks later... and then they make me re-renew my contract when I buy a new phone, I can actually get them to honor their commitment by badgering a customer service rep on live chat for about 10 minutes. (I love live chat.)
And, now, when they charge me an $18 "upgrade fee" for - I think I have this correct - the right to buy a new Sprint phone that cost more than my last three phones combined, I can get the nonsensical charge reversed by calling customer service and asking them three times to reverse the charge. (The first two times I asked, I was told there was absolutely, positively, no way they could change it, because it was their policy. Apparently, the cliche is true: The third time really is the charm.)
And, now, when the Fancy New Phone I've bought is eligible for a $100 mail-in rebate, I get an confirmation email from the company a scant five weeks after sending in my receipt, telling me that the "rebate is in the final stages of processing and should be mailed to [me] within the next three weeks."
If whatever they're doing to "process" a check is going to take three more weeks, I'm thinking that they're still a little closer to the preliminary stages at this point.
Showing posts with label Consumed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Consumed. Show all posts
April 14, 2010
January 4, 2010
The price of ice
Whenever my mom is considering a new car, she couldn't care less about whether it has four-wheel drive or traction control or ABS brakes - or, I'd guess, whether it has brakes of any kind. She doesn't care if the engine has four cylinders or six; or whether it comes with dual temperature zones or keyless remote entry.
Pretty much all she wants to know is that whatever car she drives is going to have a button on the air-conditioning panel that lets her see what the outside temperature is.
Which seemed pretty strange to me until last week.
Last week, the world's most fantastic wife and I became homeowners, and aside from the packing*, moving** and unpacking***, we couldn't be more thrilled. It's a great place - an upgrade in almost every way from the apartment we had rented for the past 18 months.
But what I had forgotten about our new apartment until we started unpacking our 694 boxes of kitchen stuff was that the previous owners left behind - for free**** - a refrigerator/freezer with one of those automatic water-and-ice dispensers. And not only that, but you can select ice cubes (more like crescents, actually) or crushed ice! Oh, and if you're getting water - or ice! - at night, the thing lights up, so you can be confident that the water you're dispensing goes right where it's intended. Amazing!
I've never had one of those things before - not growing up and not in any of the other apartments where I've lived. So when we walked in last week and I saw that snazzy thing on the front of our new freezer door? Well, that was the moment I knew: Despite the L.A. price we just paid for the place, it was totally worth it.
Now, if I can just find a contraption to tell me what the temperature outside the apartment is....
* Hated it.
** Really hated it.
*** Impossible to describe how much I hate it.
**** Yes, I'm kidding about the "free" thing.
Pretty much all she wants to know is that whatever car she drives is going to have a button on the air-conditioning panel that lets her see what the outside temperature is.
Which seemed pretty strange to me until last week.
Last week, the world's most fantastic wife and I became homeowners, and aside from the packing*, moving** and unpacking***, we couldn't be more thrilled. It's a great place - an upgrade in almost every way from the apartment we had rented for the past 18 months.
But what I had forgotten about our new apartment until we started unpacking our 694 boxes of kitchen stuff was that the previous owners left behind - for free**** - a refrigerator/freezer with one of those automatic water-and-ice dispensers. And not only that, but you can select ice cubes (more like crescents, actually) or crushed ice! Oh, and if you're getting water - or ice! - at night, the thing lights up, so you can be confident that the water you're dispensing goes right where it's intended. Amazing!
I've never had one of those things before - not growing up and not in any of the other apartments where I've lived. So when we walked in last week and I saw that snazzy thing on the front of our new freezer door? Well, that was the moment I knew: Despite the L.A. price we just paid for the place, it was totally worth it.
Now, if I can just find a contraption to tell me what the temperature outside the apartment is....
* Hated it.
** Really hated it.
*** Impossible to describe how much I hate it.
**** Yes, I'm kidding about the "free" thing.
October 28, 2009
Looking the gift card in the mouth
It's more than two weeks until my birthday* and I've already gotten two cumpleanos cards.
One arrived yesterday, and it was from my local Hallmark Gold Crown store. Happily for me, it included a coupon for $5 off a $20 purchase at their shop, which is awesome because one thing I want to do for my birthday is buy approximately eight birthday cards for other people.
Following a tradition that continues to impress me and yet makes me feel like they could do better, the other card came from Southwest Airlines. The card now arrives so early every year that I'm beginning to wonder whether they even know when my actual birthday is anymore, or they just know that it's some time after National Deviled Eggs Day. Seriously, they must have dropped this one in the mailbox a full month ahead of time. If I lived in a remote mountain village in Nepal (is there any other kind?), it would have still arrived well in advance of my birthday.
Maybe they're sending it that far in advance because they think I'm getting so old that the chances I'll actually live long enough to see my next birthday keep shrinking, and therefore they'd better get those sincere laser-printed greetings to me as early as possible.
But if that's the case, what a waste of postage, because if I had only two weeks to live, let's be honest, I'd probably book some first class seats on Qatar Airways, take advantage of the on-board Jacuzzi (because what could be more hygienic than a hot tub on an airplane?) and the feather duvet, and fly wherever the hell it is that Qatar Airways flies.***
I realize I might sound somewhat ungrateful, but I really am happy that corporate America loves me so much.
* If this seems like a subtle hint, it's not.**
** Not subtle, I mean.
*** I'm guessing Qatar is one possibility.
One arrived yesterday, and it was from my local Hallmark Gold Crown store. Happily for me, it included a coupon for $5 off a $20 purchase at their shop, which is awesome because one thing I want to do for my birthday is buy approximately eight birthday cards for other people.
Following a tradition that continues to impress me and yet makes me feel like they could do better, the other card came from Southwest Airlines. The card now arrives so early every year that I'm beginning to wonder whether they even know when my actual birthday is anymore, or they just know that it's some time after National Deviled Eggs Day. Seriously, they must have dropped this one in the mailbox a full month ahead of time. If I lived in a remote mountain village in Nepal (is there any other kind?), it would have still arrived well in advance of my birthday.
Maybe they're sending it that far in advance because they think I'm getting so old that the chances I'll actually live long enough to see my next birthday keep shrinking, and therefore they'd better get those sincere laser-printed greetings to me as early as possible.
But if that's the case, what a waste of postage, because if I had only two weeks to live, let's be honest, I'd probably book some first class seats on Qatar Airways, take advantage of the on-board Jacuzzi (because what could be more hygienic than a hot tub on an airplane?) and the feather duvet, and fly wherever the hell it is that Qatar Airways flies.***
I realize I might sound somewhat ungrateful, but I really am happy that corporate America loves me so much.
* If this seems like a subtle hint, it's not.**
** Not subtle, I mean.
*** I'm guessing Qatar is one possibility.
October 22, 2009
I'm a winner
And now, I would just like to brag that I won a shirt.
By "won," I mean that I responded to an email offer by sending my name, mailing address and shirt size to register for a promotion in which the company was going to send shirts to most people who submitted a valid name, mailing address and shirt size.
But, still. I'll take it.
There's a strong chance that the shirt, conveniently pictured below, is probably a little too fashion-forward for me. I'm not exactly sure where I'd go where black epaulets on a short-sleeve button-down would be situation-appropriate. (Maybe a screening of This is It?)
As worn by a model. A model standing in front of hay. (And, yes, the right breast pocket flap does fold down, in case you're worried.)
Still, I have to say it's a pretty nice garment. And, actually, it probably would meet the dress code for just about anywhere in L.A. It fits great, it feels well constructed and it's made of stretchy fabric, which for some reason I always think is a nice selling point in a shirt.
Thank-yous to the generous and trendy fellas at Cash Crop Clothing for bestowing the freebie, and to Thrillist for holding the contest. Which I won.
By "won," I mean that I responded to an email offer by sending my name, mailing address and shirt size to register for a promotion in which the company was going to send shirts to most people who submitted a valid name, mailing address and shirt size.
But, still. I'll take it.
There's a strong chance that the shirt, conveniently pictured below, is probably a little too fashion-forward for me. I'm not exactly sure where I'd go where black epaulets on a short-sleeve button-down would be situation-appropriate. (Maybe a screening of This is It?)
As worn by a model. A model standing in front of hay. (And, yes, the right breast pocket flap does fold down, in case you're worried.)
Still, I have to say it's a pretty nice garment. And, actually, it probably would meet the dress code for just about anywhere in L.A. It fits great, it feels well constructed and it's made of stretchy fabric, which for some reason I always think is a nice selling point in a shirt.
Thank-yous to the generous and trendy fellas at Cash Crop Clothing for bestowing the freebie, and to Thrillist for holding the contest. Which I won.
October 6, 2009
Lettuce reconsider
The lettuce in the Trader Joe's Asian chicken salad that I brought for lunch today was 24 or 36 hours past its expiration date. Which was a bummer.
But I can say with absolute certainty that I'd rather eat expired lettuce than read any more stories about Tyler Perry or Mackenzie Phillips being abused as children. (No links to their stories because, well, it's enough already.)
I'm sorry they suffered (although I feel like Perry is sort of getting his revenge with all of the Madea movies), but I don't get why celebrities think that a perk of being famous is the opportunity to spout off about crap that happened to them three decades ago. Maybe they're just doing it because they know I'll blog about it. Clever bastards.
- - -
In news that is - I'm fairly certain - completely unrelated, my incredibly gorgeous wife and I ordered a pizza from Domino's last night. And it was totally worth it. Not so much for the pizza, which was, frankly, a Domino's pizza, but because of Domino's online order tracker.
Have you seen this thing? We haven't ordered from Domino's in about two years, so I may be way behind the curve here. But it's so much fun, we're seriously considering* ordering another one tonight.
Once you place your order online - who talks on the phone anymore? - you're directed to a new screen with a gizmo that looks like this:
But I can say with absolute certainty that I'd rather eat expired lettuce than read any more stories about Tyler Perry or Mackenzie Phillips being abused as children. (No links to their stories because, well, it's enough already.)
I'm sorry they suffered (although I feel like Perry is sort of getting his revenge with all of the Madea movies), but I don't get why celebrities think that a perk of being famous is the opportunity to spout off about crap that happened to them three decades ago. Maybe they're just doing it because they know I'll blog about it. Clever bastards.
- - -
In news that is - I'm fairly certain - completely unrelated, my incredibly gorgeous wife and I ordered a pizza from Domino's last night. And it was totally worth it. Not so much for the pizza, which was, frankly, a Domino's pizza, but because of Domino's online order tracker.
Have you seen this thing? We haven't ordered from Domino's in about two years, so I may be way behind the curve here. But it's so much fun, we're seriously considering* ordering another one tonight.
Once you place your order online - who talks on the phone anymore? - you're directed to a new screen with a gizmo that looks like this:
At each stage of the pizza-production-and-delivery-process, the appropriate section of the bar flashes red until it's complete, whereupon** that segment turns solid red. We watched in awe as Fabiola (that's what Pizza Tracker said her name was) marshaled our dinner order from prep to oven to quality testing.
I was somewhat concerned that "quality testing" our pizza meant someone was going to smush their hand in the middle of the pie and grab a handful of the tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni that was rightfully ours, but after a few bites of dinner, I got over it.
* Just kidding, Bugs.
** I'll have to double check, but this is probably the first use of "whereupon" on SFTC.
July 6, 2009
Half the battle
A few people I know insist that I'd feel healthier and have more energy - and, possibly, my trousers* would fit better - if I incorporated more fruits and veggies in my diet. I'm skeptical, and, frankly it seems a shame to just ignore the Taco Bell/KFC right down the street.
(Just wondering - do any of you ever go to one of those combo places and order "dinner" from Taco Bell and get "dessert" from KFC? I'd be impressed.)
Not only that, but now I'm hearing that the fruits and veggies they sell at my local grocery store probably are all contaminated with god knows what, and that it's almost not worth buying produce unless it's certified organic, free-range, locally grown, tenderly harvested, nuclear-free apples and strawberries and whatever.
Which is great, because if there's anything in this world that gets me pumped up, it's the idea of paying $6 for a multi-adjective apple.
Happily, a few weeks ago, a new farmers market began operating nearby every Saturday. I knew this was my kind of farmers market, because in addition to leafy things I had previously only seen in photographs, this farmers market also has vendors that offer hand-ground chocolate and organic** pork sliders. Seriously, though, most of the stands had signs proclaiming their goodies to be organic and pesticide-free, which I knew would make my health-nut friends happy.
With their advice ringing in my ears, I knew I couldn't go to a farmers market and buy chocolate and pork. Or, I should say, I knew I couldn't only buy chocolate and pork. So I decided to invest in some strawberries, grapefruit, garlic, mint and - because my gorgeous wife loves them - avocados.
Which worked out well, because other than the avocados, which I knew would be eaten, I think I ate everything... well, everything except for the grapefruit, garlic and mint. And most of the strawberries. But let me tell you: The chocolate was truly out of this world. And nearly worth the $30 I paid for all of that other junk.
So now I'm just hoping that purchasing healthful food will help me stay fit and live longer. If so, I'm cruising toward 100!
*I'm going out on a limb and saying this is the first time I've written the word trousers on my blog.
** I have no idea if they're organic, or, indeed, if there is such a thing as an organic slider.
(Just wondering - do any of you ever go to one of those combo places and order "dinner" from Taco Bell and get "dessert" from KFC? I'd be impressed.)
Not only that, but now I'm hearing that the fruits and veggies they sell at my local grocery store probably are all contaminated with god knows what, and that it's almost not worth buying produce unless it's certified organic, free-range, locally grown, tenderly harvested, nuclear-free apples and strawberries and whatever.
Which is great, because if there's anything in this world that gets me pumped up, it's the idea of paying $6 for a multi-adjective apple.
Happily, a few weeks ago, a new farmers market began operating nearby every Saturday. I knew this was my kind of farmers market, because in addition to leafy things I had previously only seen in photographs, this farmers market also has vendors that offer hand-ground chocolate and organic** pork sliders. Seriously, though, most of the stands had signs proclaiming their goodies to be organic and pesticide-free, which I knew would make my health-nut friends happy.
With their advice ringing in my ears, I knew I couldn't go to a farmers market and buy chocolate and pork. Or, I should say, I knew I couldn't only buy chocolate and pork. So I decided to invest in some strawberries, grapefruit, garlic, mint and - because my gorgeous wife loves them - avocados.
Which worked out well, because other than the avocados, which I knew would be eaten, I think I ate everything... well, everything except for the grapefruit, garlic and mint. And most of the strawberries. But let me tell you: The chocolate was truly out of this world. And nearly worth the $30 I paid for all of that other junk.
So now I'm just hoping that purchasing healthful food will help me stay fit and live longer. If so, I'm cruising toward 100!
*I'm going out on a limb and saying this is the first time I've written the word trousers on my blog.
** I have no idea if they're organic, or, indeed, if there is such a thing as an organic slider.
April 17, 2009
P.U. D.I.Y. (Possibly unnecessary do-it-yourself)
Look at me with the acronyms.
I know the new economy is supposed to be all about putting the consumer in charge. (Either that or putting the consumer into bankruptcy - I forget which.)
So lots of companies have responded by introducing products that let the customer design their own product. Hence the rise of those Mongolian BBQ restaurants where you pick all of your own ingredients before the chef fries it all up for you. (By the way: Really? That's how they roll in Mongolia?) And that's why Nike and Puma have web sites that let you choose the colors and design of your tennis shoes. (Hey, Puma even calls their service "Mongolian Shoe BBQ." Seriously, I had no idea Mongolians were such do-it-yourselfers.)
Me? Unless I'm getting paid for my vegetable-and-spice selecting abilities, I'm happy to go to a restaurant and let the chef actually do all of the work - including determining how many water chestnuts and how much paprika to use. And the shoe companies employ professional shoe designers, I'm pretty sure. People who probably went to school for this stuff. Given the same palette of colors and materials, I'm pretty sure they'll design a better shoe than I could.
But I'm a little bit torn about the latest entry into the do-it-yourself pantheon. Because Kettle Chips, which makes the absolute best potato chip in the history of crisped vegetable snacks (see the first bullet point here), has introduced a make-your-own-potato-chip-flavor kit.
That is, they send you a few bags of naked chips and seven packets of seasoning - lemon butter, caramelized onion (the carmelized part seems weird because it's in powder form, but whatever), roasted tomato, cheddar, vinegar, sweet chili and sour cream & chive - that you can mix and match to create what is sure to be either a snack that is uniquely suited to your personal preferences or - and this seems like a distinct possibility - a truly frightening combination of powdered flavor granules.
So, I'm on the fence here. On the one hand, Kettle Chips has done a pretty good job coming up with a flavor I dig (namely spicy thai). On the other, I'm sort of curious what a lemon butter-cheddar-onion-vinegar potato chip would taste like.
I know the new economy is supposed to be all about putting the consumer in charge. (Either that or putting the consumer into bankruptcy - I forget which.)
So lots of companies have responded by introducing products that let the customer design their own product. Hence the rise of those Mongolian BBQ restaurants where you pick all of your own ingredients before the chef fries it all up for you. (By the way: Really? That's how they roll in Mongolia?) And that's why Nike and Puma have web sites that let you choose the colors and design of your tennis shoes. (Hey, Puma even calls their service "Mongolian Shoe BBQ." Seriously, I had no idea Mongolians were such do-it-yourselfers.)
Me? Unless I'm getting paid for my vegetable-and-spice selecting abilities, I'm happy to go to a restaurant and let the chef actually do all of the work - including determining how many water chestnuts and how much paprika to use. And the shoe companies employ professional shoe designers, I'm pretty sure. People who probably went to school for this stuff. Given the same palette of colors and materials, I'm pretty sure they'll design a better shoe than I could.
But I'm a little bit torn about the latest entry into the do-it-yourself pantheon. Because Kettle Chips, which makes the absolute best potato chip in the history of crisped vegetable snacks (see the first bullet point here), has introduced a make-your-own-potato-chip-flavor kit.
That is, they send you a few bags of naked chips and seven packets of seasoning - lemon butter, caramelized onion (the carmelized part seems weird because it's in powder form, but whatever), roasted tomato, cheddar, vinegar, sweet chili and sour cream & chive - that you can mix and match to create what is sure to be either a snack that is uniquely suited to your personal preferences or - and this seems like a distinct possibility - a truly frightening combination of powdered flavor granules.
So, I'm on the fence here. On the one hand, Kettle Chips has done a pretty good job coming up with a flavor I dig (namely spicy thai). On the other, I'm sort of curious what a lemon butter-cheddar-onion-vinegar potato chip would taste like.
April 1, 2009
Biting the mail... update added
Just posted a quick update to the Wolferman's English muffins saga. See the end of the previous post, below.
Thanks for all the interest!
Thanks for all the interest!
Biting the mail-order catalog that feeds me?
Well, this might be disappointing.
When I wrote yesterday about the deliciousness that awaited me in my newly delivered package of Wolferman's English muffins, I sort of figured that at some point - the Internet being what it is, and Google being what it is - someone from Wolferman's would find the post. If nothing else, I'd have brightened the day of someone at the company (maybe even a distant relative of Louis Wolferman). That would have been just fine.
I wrote that I'd welcome a package of English muffins in exchange for the unsolicited testimonial - that was just a joke. Realistically, though, I thought that someone from the company might even leave a pleasant note acknowledging the post.
Sure enough - according to my trusty Feedjit widget, over there >> near the bottom of the right column - SFTC started attracting an unusual amount of traffic from Medford, Ore., where Wolferman's is based. (Actually, any amount of traffic from Medford would have been unusual, so it was pretty easy to spot.) A few clicks last night and five so far this morning. See for yourself (click to enlarge):
So I was kind of stoked, figuring that the tasty muffin folks had found my glowing report and that, just maybe, I'd brought a little sunshine to someone's day. Because, as you know, that's how I roll.
Then, about 30 minutes ago, at exactly the time that those five Medford clicks were happening, I got a comment from... well, from "Anonymous."
Want to guess what the comment was? Let's go multiple choice!
A. Thanks for the plug! So glad you like the muffins.
B. I'm writing from Wolferman's. Enjoying the blog.
C. Checked out the site and found this great deal - 12 pack of muffins..you choose the flavor for $29.95 + free delivery
D. Tell us your address so we can send you some more muffins, on the house!
The correct answer is... C.
That's right. The response for writing about my love affair with the world's best $2 English muffins was an anonymous comment - I know I'm going out on a limb, but could it possibly have been a sneaky person from company HQ?!? - suggesting that I go drop another $30 on the damn things.
(Also? Good christ, I just ordered two dozen - how many freaking muffins do you think I can eat before they get stale?)
All I can say is.... well, I'll let Jeff Tweedy sing it for me.
***
UPDATE, 3:15 p.m. PT: Cindy from Wolferman's corporate relations got in touch (click Comments link below to view) with a nice big "thanks" for the original post. She also said that although this kind of thing does fall under her group's responsibilities, she couldn't figure out who would have posted the anonymous comment with the sales pitch as a response to yesterday's post but she was looking into it.
Better yet, she offered to send more English muffins and other Wolferman's goodies! (my first BIF, or blog-induced freebie!), which I just might share with some pals at the office. If they're really nice.
Another happy result of this little storyline is that today was the busiest single day for traffic on SFTC so far. Which can only mean that you people must really love reading about English muffins. I'll have to keep that in mind. (Also, thanks, Loree and Laura.)
When I wrote yesterday about the deliciousness that awaited me in my newly delivered package of Wolferman's English muffins, I sort of figured that at some point - the Internet being what it is, and Google being what it is - someone from Wolferman's would find the post. If nothing else, I'd have brightened the day of someone at the company (maybe even a distant relative of Louis Wolferman). That would have been just fine.
I wrote that I'd welcome a package of English muffins in exchange for the unsolicited testimonial - that was just a joke. Realistically, though, I thought that someone from the company might even leave a pleasant note acknowledging the post.
Sure enough - according to my trusty Feedjit widget, over there >> near the bottom of the right column - SFTC started attracting an unusual amount of traffic from Medford, Ore., where Wolferman's is based. (Actually, any amount of traffic from Medford would have been unusual, so it was pretty easy to spot.) A few clicks last night and five so far this morning. See for yourself (click to enlarge):
So I was kind of stoked, figuring that the tasty muffin folks had found my glowing report and that, just maybe, I'd brought a little sunshine to someone's day. Because, as you know, that's how I roll.
Then, about 30 minutes ago, at exactly the time that those five Medford clicks were happening, I got a comment from... well, from "Anonymous."
Want to guess what the comment was? Let's go multiple choice!
A. Thanks for the plug! So glad you like the muffins.
B. I'm writing from Wolferman's. Enjoying the blog.
C. Checked out the site and found this great deal - 12 pack of muffins..you choose the flavor for $29.95 + free delivery
D. Tell us your address so we can send you some more muffins, on the house!
The correct answer is... C.
That's right. The response for writing about my love affair with the world's best $2 English muffins was an anonymous comment - I know I'm going out on a limb, but could it possibly have been a sneaky person from company HQ?!? - suggesting that I go drop another $30 on the damn things.
(Also? Good christ, I just ordered two dozen - how many freaking muffins do you think I can eat before they get stale?)
All I can say is.... well, I'll let Jeff Tweedy sing it for me.
***
UPDATE, 3:15 p.m. PT: Cindy from Wolferman's corporate relations got in touch (click Comments link below to view) with a nice big "thanks" for the original post. She also said that although this kind of thing does fall under her group's responsibilities, she couldn't figure out who would have posted the anonymous comment with the sales pitch as a response to yesterday's post but she was looking into it.
Better yet, she offered to send more English muffins and other Wolferman's goodies! (my first BIF, or blog-induced freebie!), which I just might share with some pals at the office. If they're really nice.
Another happy result of this little storyline is that today was the busiest single day for traffic on SFTC so far. Which can only mean that you people must really love reading about English muffins. I'll have to keep that in mind. (Also, thanks, Loree and Laura.)
March 31, 2009
Muffin. English muffin.
You probably think that it would be borderline lunacy to pay close to $2 for an English muffin.
And you're probably correct. In which case, I admit it: I am a borderline lunatic.
But today, my friends, I'm a very happy borderline lunatic (you can just tell something's different because that "my friends" phrasing isn't really my style). Happy because Jay the UPS guy just dropped off a box containing two dozen of the tastiest English muffins I will ever eat.*
The English muffins in question are these heavenly baked creations from Wolferman's, a company that has somehow, some way, taken nooks and crannies to an entirely new level. I'm telling you: What Hot Doug's in Chicago has done for encased meats, these crazy bastards at Wolferman's have done for the English muffin. Each one is twice as thick as a "conventional" English muffin and probably ten times as tasty. I don't know which Brit came up with the original English muffin, but he could have had no idea it would lead to something so moving.
I'm just looking at the tantalizing flavors on my packing slip - pumpkin spice, apple orchard, San Francisco sourdough, chocolate freakin' chip, multigrain and honey (that's the healthy one, right?), and cinnamon and raisin - and, if I'm being honest, my mouth is watering a little bit. Oh, and I was smart enough to order a jar of triple fruit spread. No word on what the three fruits are, but I hardly think it matters. It's just icing on the cake.
So, to answer your two burning questions:
1) Is Wolferman's paying me for this enormous testimonial? Answer: No, but I'd take some more muffins if anyone from the company stumbles across this post.
2) Will it really be worth the $40 I paid? Answer: Absolutely and positively: Yes.** You can take my word for it or you can taste them for yourselves. You just can't taste mine.
* And/or share with my ravishingly beautiful wife.
** Especially because I bought them with a gift card, which sort of weakens the storyline. But, still: Worth it.
And you're probably correct. In which case, I admit it: I am a borderline lunatic.
But today, my friends, I'm a very happy borderline lunatic (you can just tell something's different because that "my friends" phrasing isn't really my style). Happy because Jay the UPS guy just dropped off a box containing two dozen of the tastiest English muffins I will ever eat.*
The English muffins in question are these heavenly baked creations from Wolferman's, a company that has somehow, some way, taken nooks and crannies to an entirely new level. I'm telling you: What Hot Doug's in Chicago has done for encased meats, these crazy bastards at Wolferman's have done for the English muffin. Each one is twice as thick as a "conventional" English muffin and probably ten times as tasty. I don't know which Brit came up with the original English muffin, but he could have had no idea it would lead to something so moving.
I'm just looking at the tantalizing flavors on my packing slip - pumpkin spice, apple orchard, San Francisco sourdough, chocolate freakin' chip, multigrain and honey (that's the healthy one, right?), and cinnamon and raisin - and, if I'm being honest, my mouth is watering a little bit. Oh, and I was smart enough to order a jar of triple fruit spread. No word on what the three fruits are, but I hardly think it matters. It's just icing on the cake.
So, to answer your two burning questions:
1) Is Wolferman's paying me for this enormous testimonial? Answer: No, but I'd take some more muffins if anyone from the company stumbles across this post.
2) Will it really be worth the $40 I paid? Answer: Absolutely and positively: Yes.** You can take my word for it or you can taste them for yourselves. You just can't taste mine.
* And/or share with my ravishingly beautiful wife.
** Especially because I bought them with a gift card, which sort of weakens the storyline. But, still: Worth it.
March 30, 2009
Pushing the (red) envelope
Dear Netflix,*
I found you relatively late in life - a few years after all of my early-adopter friends did, which means a few years after they began incessantly bugging me to sign up. I held out as long as I could because I just couldn't understand the big draw.
I had eight HBO channels, movies on demand and a serviceable video store a mile away. Ten bucks a month didn't seem too steep a price to pay for your amazing convenience. But still, I reasoned that if there were movies I really needed to see, I could just pay myself to go get them from the Hollywood Video and then be able to watch them the same night. (Myself found that not to be a very lucrative deal.)
Besides, I might not be in a documentary mood when The Fog of War showed up; or I might be craving something serious when License to Drive landed in my mailbox. (Just kidding. I've never hated a movie as much as I hated License to Drive. There's no way that would ever be allowed on my queue.)
But things changed. I got married. (To a stunningly spectacular woman, by the way. You'd be impressed.) And we lived in an apartment without eight HBO channels and without a decent video rental place nearby. And so I signed up for your service. It was great for a while. I got to watch the first few seasons of House, M.D., which I hadn't seen when they aired originally. Got to see An Inconvenient Truth; Finding Neverland; Good Night, and Good Luck; The Hammer; and Waitress; all of which I'd wanted to see in theaters but never did.
According to my rental history, I also watched Donnie Brasco, which I heard was supposed to be great, but I guess it sucked because I don't remember any of it.
But then, for some reason, I couldn't make time for you anymore. Maybe it was because we moved again, and got back our HBOs and movies on demand. Syriana, which I actually still want to see, arrived in your cute red envelope but just sat on top of my DVD player for about six weeks before I gave up and sent it back, unwatched. I put my account on hold for a while, thinking that the time apart would do us good.
But I reactivated and then it was back to the same bad patterns. Last of the Mohicans showed up and just... sat there. (Whatever mood you have to be in to watch LOTM, I was never in that mood.) Six weeks, and back to the mailbox. Sure, I snuck in the James Dean TV movie biopic and a rewatching of Cinema Paradiso. But then Gone with the Wind came and stayed tucked in the cabinet for nearly two months before it was gone with the mail. Unwatched.
You delivered Man on Wire, which I thank you for. A surprisingly entertaining documentary that I might not have seen without you. But even that DVD waited for about a month before I got around to loading it up in the Toshiba.
In other words, if I'm doing the math right, I just paid two and a half months in membership fees, about $25, to watch Man on Wire. And most of it was in black and white. Ten bucks a month for two or three movies delivered right to my mail slot is a good deal. Twenty-five bucks for one movie I might not ever get around to? Well, that seems dumb.
So, really, it's not you. It's me.** We had a pretty good run for a year or two, but you're going back on hiatus until I figure out how to approach our future together. I know it's tough out there, but you'll be OK.
See ya' sometime.
Fist bumps,
Your escalator operator
*It's possible that I'm very blatantly borrowing the concept of writing a letter to a non-human, movie-related entity from one of my favorite bloggers, Daddy Geek Boy, who just wrote a love note to a superb theater out here in L.A. Possible, but I'm not admitting anything. But I really had been meaning to write about Netflix anyway. In any case, you can (and probably should) read DGB's always-entertaining blog here.
** Actually, it was you a little bit. You could have helped your cause by improving your recommendations of Movies I'd Love. For months, most of the DVDs you suggested for me were Def Comedy Jams and The Original Kings of Comedy, apparently because I told you I liked Ray and The Hurricane. Yeah, not quite. Also, your pop-up ads every time I go to Merriam-Webster online are sort of annoying.
I found you relatively late in life - a few years after all of my early-adopter friends did, which means a few years after they began incessantly bugging me to sign up. I held out as long as I could because I just couldn't understand the big draw.
I had eight HBO channels, movies on demand and a serviceable video store a mile away. Ten bucks a month didn't seem too steep a price to pay for your amazing convenience. But still, I reasoned that if there were movies I really needed to see, I could just pay myself to go get them from the Hollywood Video and then be able to watch them the same night. (Myself found that not to be a very lucrative deal.)
Besides, I might not be in a documentary mood when The Fog of War showed up; or I might be craving something serious when License to Drive landed in my mailbox. (Just kidding. I've never hated a movie as much as I hated License to Drive. There's no way that would ever be allowed on my queue.)
But things changed. I got married. (To a stunningly spectacular woman, by the way. You'd be impressed.) And we lived in an apartment without eight HBO channels and without a decent video rental place nearby. And so I signed up for your service. It was great for a while. I got to watch the first few seasons of House, M.D., which I hadn't seen when they aired originally. Got to see An Inconvenient Truth; Finding Neverland; Good Night, and Good Luck; The Hammer; and Waitress; all of which I'd wanted to see in theaters but never did.
According to my rental history, I also watched Donnie Brasco, which I heard was supposed to be great, but I guess it sucked because I don't remember any of it.
But then, for some reason, I couldn't make time for you anymore. Maybe it was because we moved again, and got back our HBOs and movies on demand. Syriana, which I actually still want to see, arrived in your cute red envelope but just sat on top of my DVD player for about six weeks before I gave up and sent it back, unwatched. I put my account on hold for a while, thinking that the time apart would do us good.
But I reactivated and then it was back to the same bad patterns. Last of the Mohicans showed up and just... sat there. (Whatever mood you have to be in to watch LOTM, I was never in that mood.) Six weeks, and back to the mailbox. Sure, I snuck in the James Dean TV movie biopic and a rewatching of Cinema Paradiso. But then Gone with the Wind came and stayed tucked in the cabinet for nearly two months before it was gone with the mail. Unwatched.
You delivered Man on Wire, which I thank you for. A surprisingly entertaining documentary that I might not have seen without you. But even that DVD waited for about a month before I got around to loading it up in the Toshiba.
In other words, if I'm doing the math right, I just paid two and a half months in membership fees, about $25, to watch Man on Wire. And most of it was in black and white. Ten bucks a month for two or three movies delivered right to my mail slot is a good deal. Twenty-five bucks for one movie I might not ever get around to? Well, that seems dumb.
So, really, it's not you. It's me.** We had a pretty good run for a year or two, but you're going back on hiatus until I figure out how to approach our future together. I know it's tough out there, but you'll be OK.
See ya' sometime.
Fist bumps,
Your escalator operator
*It's possible that I'm very blatantly borrowing the concept of writing a letter to a non-human, movie-related entity from one of my favorite bloggers, Daddy Geek Boy, who just wrote a love note to a superb theater out here in L.A. Possible, but I'm not admitting anything. But I really had been meaning to write about Netflix anyway. In any case, you can (and probably should) read DGB's always-entertaining blog here.
** Actually, it was you a little bit. You could have helped your cause by improving your recommendations of Movies I'd Love. For months, most of the DVDs you suggested for me were Def Comedy Jams and The Original Kings of Comedy, apparently because I told you I liked Ray and The Hurricane. Yeah, not quite. Also, your pop-up ads every time I go to Merriam-Webster online are sort of annoying.
December 17, 2008
In which 70% < 60%
I'm not great at math, so maybe I'm missing something here. But I was looking at Restaurant.com, about to buy myself some discount gift certificates for two local eateries, when I came to this screen:
See that blue box at the bottom right corner? That's where they break down your gift certificate options. Well, here, take a closer look:
The $10 gift certificate costs only $3. The way I run the numbers, that's 70% off. Not bad. But Restaurant.com says the "best value" is the $100 gift certificate, which costs $40. I think that comes out to right around 60% off, which... isn't that less than 70% off?
Maybe they just mean it's the best value for the people who run the web site.
While we're on the topic, if the site lists restaurants near you - the selection is OK but not great for establishments in our area - it can be kind of a handy way to save a few bucks. And they're doing some kind of holiday promotion now, so if you enter the code FROSTY at checkout, the gift certificates are even cheaper. Happy shopping.
See that blue box at the bottom right corner? That's where they break down your gift certificate options. Well, here, take a closer look:
The $10 gift certificate costs only $3. The way I run the numbers, that's 70% off. Not bad. But Restaurant.com says the "best value" is the $100 gift certificate, which costs $40. I think that comes out to right around 60% off, which... isn't that less than 70% off?
Maybe they just mean it's the best value for the people who run the web site.
While we're on the topic, if the site lists restaurants near you - the selection is OK but not great for establishments in our area - it can be kind of a handy way to save a few bucks. And they're doing some kind of holiday promotion now, so if you enter the code FROSTY at checkout, the gift certificates are even cheaper. Happy shopping.
December 16, 2008
Revolution. Televised.
I might have watched my last commercial.
The dude from the cable company visited this weekend (Me: "Can I get you something to drink?" Him: "Vodka and orange juice sounds good.") and installed one of those magical time-saving, advertising-eradicating DVR things.
Yes, I know you've already had your DVR for many, many years. No matter. I believed him when he told me that within a week, I won't be able to watch TV without it.
Next order of business in my Five-Year Audiovisual Equipment Upgrade Master Plan is to finally acquire the high-def TV that I've been talking about for a little while now. Ah, who am I kidding - I've been talking about it for at least five years. Come to think of it, that's probably how I got the name of the Master Plan.
I've been watching prices, comparing brands, checking out displays at Best Buy and Circuit City (and now Costco) (and now every bar or restaurant we go to that has a flat screen), but one thing I haven't done is buy a damn TV.
Just asking: What's the opposite of an impulse purchase?
I figure I've saved hundreds of dollars watching the prices go down in that time, which also means that I might be able to get a slightly bigger TV than the ones I was considering back during the pre-Miley Cyrus era.
But I think a purchase is imminent. The last real obstacle was that I couldn't get my head around the idea of paying the cable company more money per month for the privilege of getting HD content. But that's now a non-issue because I recently discovered that high-def programming is included - free! - with our monthly service because our building has a bulk deal.
(Which reminds me: When we first moved into this place and had the cable turned on, the installer said, "Wow, you have a great deal, getting cable for free." Which he meant to be nice, but which ticked me off. "Yeah," I told him. "All I have to do is just pay the ridiculous rent to live here and they throw in the cable - for free.")
For the last couple of weeks, I've been in something like "ready to buy in the next few days" mode, but I keep finding more models to consider and hearing that prices will go down even more after Thanksgiving... on December 15... after Christmas... before the Super Bowl. It's gotten to the point that my gorgeous and extremely smart wife - who couldn't care less what kind of TV we have, so long as it's color and picks up Gossip Girl and House - is gently pushing me to buy the thing already. So I can just shut up about it.
I think even Sampson the cat rolled his eyes yesterday when he heard me say the words "Sony Bravia." That's OK - I know he's going to enjoy NFL football even more on the new set.
The dude from the cable company visited this weekend (Me: "Can I get you something to drink?" Him: "Vodka and orange juice sounds good.") and installed one of those magical time-saving, advertising-eradicating DVR things.
Yes, I know you've already had your DVR for many, many years. No matter. I believed him when he told me that within a week, I won't be able to watch TV without it.
Next order of business in my Five-Year Audiovisual Equipment Upgrade Master Plan is to finally acquire the high-def TV that I've been talking about for a little while now. Ah, who am I kidding - I've been talking about it for at least five years. Come to think of it, that's probably how I got the name of the Master Plan.
I've been watching prices, comparing brands, checking out displays at Best Buy and Circuit City (and now Costco) (and now every bar or restaurant we go to that has a flat screen), but one thing I haven't done is buy a damn TV.
Just asking: What's the opposite of an impulse purchase?
I figure I've saved hundreds of dollars watching the prices go down in that time, which also means that I might be able to get a slightly bigger TV than the ones I was considering back during the pre-Miley Cyrus era.
But I think a purchase is imminent. The last real obstacle was that I couldn't get my head around the idea of paying the cable company more money per month for the privilege of getting HD content. But that's now a non-issue because I recently discovered that high-def programming is included - free! - with our monthly service because our building has a bulk deal.
(Which reminds me: When we first moved into this place and had the cable turned on, the installer said, "Wow, you have a great deal, getting cable for free." Which he meant to be nice, but which ticked me off. "Yeah," I told him. "All I have to do is just pay the ridiculous rent to live here and they throw in the cable - for free.")
For the last couple of weeks, I've been in something like "ready to buy in the next few days" mode, but I keep finding more models to consider and hearing that prices will go down even more after Thanksgiving... on December 15... after Christmas... before the Super Bowl. It's gotten to the point that my gorgeous and extremely smart wife - who couldn't care less what kind of TV we have, so long as it's color and picks up Gossip Girl and House - is gently pushing me to buy the thing already. So I can just shut up about it.
I think even Sampson the cat rolled his eyes yesterday when he heard me say the words "Sony Bravia." That's OK - I know he's going to enjoy NFL football even more on the new set.
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