It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. The Fellowship of the Ring didn't completely suck. The Episode II trailer alternately made me laugh and made me ill. Cats were being cloned and doubts were being raised about the genesis of Britney Spears, Mandy Moore, Christina Aguilera, and Jessica Simpson.
My muse has once again missed our weekly appointment. You folks (all two) who read my Cants will have to make do with (the usual) random brain barf.
Our local crime syndicate, run by a pack of goons in the Deep South, is running a series of ads on television and on the radio. The ongoing story from SBC (Pacific Bell) is of a long suffering family with DSL contending with Bernie, a neighbor who hogs their Internet access. The ads have a certain "edginess" to them. Apparently, the idea of a pathological burglar preying on a family, dominating their lives, and stealing their DSL is supposed to evoke some sort of wacky humor. I am not amused. First off, the DSL customer is a bit pathetic for allowing a stranger to take over his house. This does not get me to lusting after DSL. Secondly, all I can think of is what I would do if Bernie was tormenting my family. If it were me, Bernie would suffer from a ballistic case of acute lead poisoning. I do not find myself scrambling to the phone to pay $50 a month for DSL after these ads.
Next on the menu: I would like to say "thanks" to a company who knows how to treat their customers.
In a previous Cant, I mentioned how I'm not the sort of person who believes that folks should drop to their knees and give me a sloppy blow job every time I reach for my wallet. I just appreciate when people either actually enjoy interacting with me when I'm their customer or, at the very least, put up a good imitation thereof. At the very, very least, I appreciate efficiency.
My latest experience with fantastic customer service came at the hands of Team Losi. I'm deep into the construction of their R/C cars. I have a lot of mechanical experience and the instructions are generally excellent, so the process went smoothly until I met a stubborn spirol pin. No amount of wrenching or hammering could persuade the little bugger to get where he needed to be. Finally, I called Losi and wove my tale of woe to Todd. Todd told me "Yeah, those things are a pain in the ass. Let me send you a couple pre-assembled. What's your address?" I could've sent my lips through the phone, Matrix-style, and kissed the guy.
My last exhibit comes to us from the radio. Behold Liverite! I heard an ad for this and was teleported into the 19th century. Note how every claim they make has a little asterisk:
They forgot:
Please, someone, give me a freakin' break! This stuff sounds like the bastard lovechild of an unholy coupling between Scientology and New Age crap-herbology. "Cleanses" the liver? Now what exactly would that mean? Pinesol is a secret ingredient? "Increases energy levels"? Read "Contains massive doses of caffeine." "Supports liver function"? Well, I suppose that any nutrient that sustains life could be said to support liver function, so they're probably not too far off base here. I'm sure these folks long for the good ol' days when miracle tonics relied on cocaine for their restorative effects. What a way to build a loyal customer base.
Pakeha