Mostly Muppet

Not a pun on conception or birth, but a commentary on how the new year is already shaping up like the latter half of the old year: full of bad news and and things shrinking, shuttering and dying.

Case in point, two of my favorite creative communities Ficlets and JPG Mag will be closing up shop in the coming days.

Thanks to Thomas, I’ll be downloading my Ficlets to my PC tonight and putting them up either on the blog as pages or maybe sharing them via Google Docs. I’d love to keep the collaborative spirit flowing and both options allow for commenting and collaboration, so let me know how you’d like me to proceed so the stories don’t die or disappear down the memory hole.

Here’s the official word (in pop-up form, ugh) from Ficlets:

Ficlets is going away soon :( It’s been a fun ride, and we love you, but we’ve got to go. We’ll be shutting down on January 15, 2009. If you’ve written any Ficlets, please back them up as soon as you can.

JPG is a different story. I already lament how poorly I utilize my Flickr Pro account, but I have uploaded a few photos to JPG in the past and I got my free issue (hard copy) some time ago that I still keep handy. I feel really inspired by the artwork of “amateurs” that I see there and I’m sorry to hear that the endeavor is going to disappear, though there are rumors to the contrary. UPDATE: Now the rumors seem more real, especially since the site is still up.

Despite losing its original progenitors, Derek Powazek & Heather Champ, I always found the JPG Mag blog and the contributions fantastic. I can’t speak for the print product, but the website felt different from Flickr and made me feel aspirational and NOT depressed, which is breakthrough territory for me where photography is concerned.

I’d also like to add a non-web casualty of time: Alfred Sheehan, inventor of the Hawaiian “Aloha” shirt. I’ll give my own Aloha ‘Oe for him tomorrow by wearing a garment descendant of his original creations.

So there you have it: 2009 is shaping up to be more bitter news than 2008, though I’m strangely optimistic. Maybe I’ll finally figure out this whole “lifestream”/FriendFeed mumbo-jumbo, kill off a few of my logins and figure out a way to publish from one place to multiple constituencies (with varying, degrading content deliveries) and stop getting so wrapped up in the ‘where’ and focus on the ‘what’.

I’m gonna miss Ficlets and JPG, but it just makes me want to focus that much harder on crafting something fun/cool/enjoyable and not worry about the distribution of same. Someone will figure that out and it’s not my job to pick winners.

Happy New Year!

I’m struggling a bit to fully explain the series of unfortunate events that transpired today involving my experience with Sears and, in the spirit of Festivus, I figured the best place to start was with an airing of grievances here on the blog.

So, Sears, I gotta lotta problems with you!

It all started innocently enough several months ago when Jenn and I realized we could purchase Sears gift cards at a discount, thus enabling us to purchase a new TiVo HD at a reduced rate. And before I get too much further I should explain that the situation I’m about to describe is most definitely a first-world problem/white whine but I’m OK with that since it illuminates, in my mind at least, a big disconnect between big businesses an their customers.

Anyhow, I went to Sears a week before Christmas armed with $300 in gift cards and the intent to purchase a TiVo HD - retail price $299.99. In the course of my shopping trip I also purchased a 6 foot length of Philips HDMI cable for $40.00, thinking it smart to get connectivity from the TiVo to the TV and not worrying too much that I’d find something cheaper later. A quick scan of BestBuy.com left me pleased that my truly less expensive alternatives were quite lesser in terms of quality so I kept both purchases - TiVo HD & HDMI cable - for Christmas day. I paid most of my Sears tab with the gift cards and supplemented the rest with a credit card reserved for holiday shopping excursions and didn’t give the transaction a second thought.

As luck would have it my in-laws knew of an online retailer - MonoPrice.com - with much cheaper cables; cheap enough to dissuade me of any lingering quality concerns and force me to purchase there and attempt to return my Philips HDMI cable to Sears. So this morning that’s exactly what I did; I ran in to Sears while the rest of the family waited in the car. It should have been a 5 minute affair of a post-Christmas return. It should have gone smoothly. It should have been satisfactory. Would I be blogging (or you reading) if it was?

I waited a while, nearly twenty minutes, in a line in the Electronics department behind a very nice couple getting help from a sales associate trying to find and HDTV. To her credit, she called several other Sears stores in the area trying to locate two separate models for these folks to no avail and, eventually, the husband insisted the associate help me since I’d been waiting patiently. I guess I’d missed the returns kiosk down one of the main corridors of the store, but no one had been manning the desk near the back entrance where I’d picked up orders and returned merchandise before. I’d assumed I should return the item to the department where I’d purchased it and I can’t fault Sears for my own failure to locate a return area.

Where I can fault them is the handling of return. After scanning my receipt and my merchandise the associate noted that she would be issuing me a gift card in the amount of $40-odd dollars and cents. I was puzzled and searched my receipt for a reason why:

• she should be doing this
• she shouldn’t be doing this

Several times I repeated verbatim this phrase from the receipt itself:

“REFUND WILL BE ISSUED IN THE ORIGINAL TENDER.” (Caps theirs. I’m just quoting).

My point, succinctly, was that the gift cards paid for the TiVo HD, which I wasn’t returning, and my credit card paid for the cable, which I was returning. Ergo, I should get my money back on my credit card. Simple as that.

If the transaction contained both gift cards and credit cards, she explained, the “computer” wouldn’t let her change the refund structure and would default to the gift card. There was nothing she nor her manager could do about it (I asked).

I left feeling more than a bit miffed and went to the car to explain the situation to Jenn. By this point we’d already exchanged multiple texts about the length of time I’d been in the store and upon hearing of the outcome the whole family proceeded to load out of the car and back in to the store to seek some better form of remuneration and satisfaction. None came.

Instead we found the appropriate service kiosk, explained our plight, showed our receipts, had a near identical explanation given to us and demanded the associate (a separate associate from the first) call her manager. Following a brief phone conversation to which we were only privy to one side, the associate reiterated for a now-third time that because the initial purchase contained some form of gift cards AND because the return was less than $50 (arbitrary?) that the entirety of the refund must be made via gift card. She went on to explain that had the return been greater than $50, HALF the amount would have been credited to my credit card and the OTHER HALF would have been done as a gift card which seems both MORE RANDOM and also immaterial to the situation at hand.

First, the entire policy seems silly based on my intent/intended use of the gift cards - the purchase of the TiVo HD. Second, what do I care about situations other than mine, especially when the “solution” to that new problem seems even more serpentine and illogical?

We left in a huff and talked about our options on the car ride between our other errands. We quickly decided the most prudent action we could take to receive the desired outcome would be to go back to Sears with our TiVo HD, return it (thus nullifying the entirety of our original purchase trip and returning the HDMI cable sum to our credit card) and then re-purchase the TiVo with the resulting $300 in gift card monies. Phew! That’s a lot of hoops to jump through just to get money back on a credit card, but it was the principle of the thing.

Why should Sears get to decide how the monies are apportioned? If I’m the one who decided how to pay them in the first place, why should they dictate to me how they’re going to refund me? I suppose they like the fact that they get me tethered to another potential purchase with that gift card, but I don’t. I’m the customer. I’m always right, right? Wrong. I was told that no one had the authority to override or change the system.

In the process of sitting out a brief rainstorm at a later point in our errand-running, I decided to hit the internet to see if I could find a customer service number to get things resolved better/more quickly than the plot I’d hatched. I didn’t feel like calling the Sears CEO (though I appreciate Consumerist) but I did think making a call to customer service would be appropriate. Two things:

1. Props to Sears for having a very functional mobile site that auto-detected me on my iPhone
2. Shame on Sears for not including some kind of link to a customer service (or any other) phone number from their mobile site. That seems like a huge no-brainer

I called 800-549-4505 and followed this track:

Press 1 for English
Press 0 until transferred
Press 5 for general customer service issue

Colleen answered the line and asked for some basic information - my name and phone number as well as the location of the store where I’d had my problem. After ruling out K-Mart stores and finding the Sears location I’d visited, Colleen set about divining the heart of my complaint.

When I’d explained the above scenario Colleen said what we’d heard before - that the associates and the manager had acted accordingly but - but that she was going to contact the store directly to discuss the situation further and could I wait a moment. I hung on for the hold music, trusting Colleen was doing what she’d promised, and waited for her return. Upon reestablishing our conversation, Colleen profusely apologized for my predicament but toed the company line for now the fifth time, letting me know nicely (but in no uncertain terms) that the policy was executed as it was written and that the return could not be processed to my satisfaction.

I immediately threw out my alternative solution - returning and then repurchasing the TiVo - which Collen agreed would end with me getting the monies reapportioned to my accounts as I saw fit. I told her that while I was happy the situation would eventually be resolved, I wasn’t happy with the manner in which I’d have to achieve my stated aims. It seems like an undue burden to place on me when, surely at some level, some person could have voided a transaction or overrode (overridden? That’s a topic for another blog post) the computer to make things right? Certainly people run Sears and not some cabal of robotic, mechanized, computerized overlords who impose their stringent logic for the personal oversight of living, breathing, compassionate human beings? Human beings who are also consumers themselves?

The only saving grace in all of this is the attitude and words of Colleen, the phone customer service associate. Even though she was explaining the same thing as the in-store representatives, her approach, demeanor and words were all sympathetic and she seemed to genuinely be trying to find a suitable solution for me as opposed to the indifferent and disinterested associates who stated “it’s the computer” or “store policy” as though they were words of power and mysticism that would stop me dead in my tracks and quash any further discussion.

In the end, I strolled in to the Sears store at 5:55 PM - 5 minutes before closing - walked my TiVo and my receipts back to the Electronics section and was processed and out the door before the clock struck 6 o’clock.

All I had to say was “I want to return this item and then purchase it again.” and I got no resistance and only one question: which of my (now) two gift cards would I like to use first. An immaterial question to be sure, but only a minor annoyance to an otherwise super-fast and stress-free transaction.

I now have ZERO gift cards, the amount of the purchase of the HDMI cables back on my credit card and the TiVo HD in my possession. I’m three-for-three.

Why blog then? Well, because I think Sears is ridiculous for a couple of reasons:

1. Their return policy is poorly written on the front AND back of their receipts. At no point is this rigamarole is the point about gift cards and refunds make clear, nor is their a URL provided for more information.
2. How does a mobile website not include a number of any kind especially one for customer service?
3. It is never acceptable for a customer service associate to say “the computer won’t let me”. That’s code for me the customer to assume that you are too lazy or incompetent to find the real answer. Even if this is the correct answer, I should be shielded from the sausage-making of your point-of-sale system and a manager should be consulted or brought to deal with me.

What I’ve learned and will/won’t be doing in the future:

1. I won’t buy or accept gift cards as gifts. Consider yourself warned.
2. I won’t be shopping at Sears again. Despite the care shown to me over the phone and in my last transaction, unless and until the policies change regarding gift cards, I have plenty of other places to spend my cash.
3. I’m always going to err on the side of trying to find a human answer. Sure I could have flown off the handle and gotten nasty in-person or over the phone, but what would that have achieved. Granted, I did Sears’ job for them to get the result I (and by extension “they” *should* have wanted), but it still beat blowing my top and getting nothing resolved. Plus, it shows that people will get satisfaction and route around trouble like water flowing to a low point or the internet routing around an outage.

There’s no great tale here of “Web 2.0″ saving the day or helping resolve my problem, though blogging (in the form of this post and the Consumerist link) do fit in, it’s just generally “the internet” and old-fashioned phone support helping to grease the wheels of problem-solving.

I wish Sears had done a better job of solving my problem without so much effort on my part. I wish their mobile site were “better” in solving the actual problem I had - a number to call them. I wish for a lot of things, but mostly for them to consider changing their policy to be more customer-friendly and less customer disservice.

Surely this is a bit of an edge case. I could just as easily have done the TiVo and the cable as separate purchases on different receipts, but why should I inconvenience myself to make their internal processes work easier. Why should I have to know the intricacies of their systems beforehand to ensure a positive outcome after the fact?

As a customer, I don’t care or need to know about *how* things get done, just that they get done. And here, I know now that I can get things done even is Sears won’t.

In the end I’m happy that I got things resolved and I’m also happy that I’ve stuck Sears with 4 receipts to track one customer interaction. May they get lost in their own red tape trying to decipher just what I did (or what they did to me). Seems like they could have saved a tree and an accountant had they simply put the money back on the credit card like I’d asked. Less money on paper, labor, gas (my return trip) and on the phone call. There really is a price for convenience after all.

And just so you know that I’m not doing this to cause some kerfuffle or make Sears look bad (which I hope is pretty obvious, I’ve praised them where appropriate): I’m using their own site - SearsFeedback.com - to submit this blog post entirely AND I made sure that Colleen noted my general objection to store policy and not some one-time complaint about the associates or my transaction(s) specifically. She let me know that I would be heard and that Sears did review customer feedback in regards to their policies. Here’s hoping that I get some kind of response - one way or another - about my feedback. Because I won’t shop at Sears until such time that this policy changes, even if it never would affect me again.

Let me know what you think? Too much white whine?

Oh, and here’s a photo of my very dirty desk and the parade of receipts generated in this whole back-and-forth. If nothing else, Sears will have fun deciphering what I did to get myself service and satisfaction.

Happy New Year!

I’d be remiss if I didn’t blog about the great time I had attending my first (but not my last) Monday Night Brewery event.

For those not in the know, Jeff, Joel and Jonathan are working hard to start their own brewery and, as enterprising entrepreneurs and fellow beer drinkers, they pass along the savings to us, the Atlanta beer community, by hosting a “party” every Monday Night.

Get it?

Monday Night Brewery?

Moving on.

After helping the J’s rename their Swashchuckler IPA to their Eye Patch Ale I(Eye)PA I’ve felt compelled to drink their beers, notably the I(Eye)PA but I haven’t had the time.

The usual suspects: Work. Wife. Kids.

So I planned on attending the December 8th brewing with Tony, Garrett and Russ only to be denied by a virus. Just my luck.

I went stag the next week, this past Monday, December 15th.

I found Jonathan, Jeff and yes, even Joel to be quite pleasant. Great guys, in fact, to welcome strangers and “regulars” alike to their home to partake of their beer.

I found a cool group of regulars - Colin, Matt and Melanie. I also met Brad, a fellow newbie/virgin, and Garrett who was supposed to attend on the 8th.

I had some fantastic beers. Not a one was bad, but I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t like the Eye Patch Ale the best. I’m an avowed hop head, which skews my views, but I was impressed by the floral qualities and drinkability of this IPA.

I also had a good, though a touch too-cold Milk Stout. It was fine if you let it warm in the glass. Plus, it was a very mild December evening, so waiting for the Stout to acclimate wasn’t bad, there was plenty of excellent company and conversation.

The third beer was their Drafty Kilt Scotch Ale which a lot of folks pegged as their favorite. I’m not a huge Scotch Ale fan simply because the style is very subtle, similar to English Brown Ales, but I still appreciated it. It would make a fine session beer though, but the Stout and IPA were “wow”ers.

My one regret: not taking any pictures with the camera I had in my back pocket. Instead, all you get is one blurry iPhone photo.

If you’d like more, Mark Larson has a few from that night and Monday Night Brewery is heavy on the social media, so you can check them out on their blog, twitter or Flickr.

If I don’t blog again this year, drink some good beer for me and have a safe and happy holidays!

You have a Lost jones.
I have a Lost jones.
We’re all just biding our time until January 21st.

In the interim, you could do worse than:

a) Reading The Disney Blog, who’s doing a great disseminating …
b) Videos on YouTube that Kristin from E! Online is posting that …
c) Come from the remnants of the DharmaWantsYou.com site.

Now, I could dole out secret codes for the videos that have been released thus far, but that seems like cheating.

And I played nice and played the game(s) and stuck with it and my reward, I suppose, is a few days or hours of exclusivity.

Still, you could do far worse than seeing the sneaks that are in the wild now (links above) or watching this amazing Lost “Starter Kit”.

Enjoy!

Weekend mornings are always fun for the entire family.

The best benefit of having kids: the permissive expectation that you, yourself, can and should act like a child sometimes too.

Saturdays are habitually Chick-Fil-A biscuit mornings, with the whole clan tucking in to flakiness and acting flaky.

Sundays I’ll typically make a breakfast of pancakes or scrambled eggs or french toast. Anything I can do in a big batch or heaping, steaming plate/bowl. This Sunday it was french toast and as we all dug in, I recounted my own version of the story of Goldilocks and The Three Bears, themed for the holiday season of 2008.

“Once upon a time there was a young lady named Golidilocks. It was Christmas time so she went to the mall looking for gifts.

Upon entering the mall she came upon a Sharper Image store and was immediately taken in by the bright, flashing lights and exotic, luxurious textures.

She spied a row of three heated bearskin recliners with vibrating back massagers and sat in the first, large lounger.

‘This chair is too big and stiff. The bearskin is taut and brittle and the heating unit is stuck at eleven!’

She moved on to the medium-sized chair.

‘This chair is too squishy and the massager won’t stop going. I think I’m getting motion sickness!’

Finally, she sat in the smallest chair and found relaxation.

‘This chair is just right!’

Just then as Goldilocks was closing her eyes and propping her hands behind her head, a sales associate approached.

‘May I help you, ma’am?’

‘Sure. How much is this chair?’

‘Fifteen hundred twenty two dollars and eighty six sense,’ the sales associate flatly stated.

That is when Goldilocks ran screaming from the mall and into the woods, never to be seen again.

The End.’

Of course this little retelling was interrupted multiple times to correct me, all of which I ignored.

In other news, Sharper Image is actually closing all of its retail stores and will live on as an as-yet-unlaunched online-only brand.

Merry Christmas!