That is a quote from a national electronics chain
store manager I received a couple days ago.
I wonder if I made the right decision.
I wonder…
TS Andrea, while mostly benign with regard to Florida
coastal damage, carried an incredible lightning count. Tampa Bay is renowned for its annual strikes
and is unofficially titled as the “Lightning Capital of the U.S.” Our local hockey team even endears the
moniker. You know where this is headed,
right? Mention of and electronics
store…lightning…. Yep, I became a victim
of Andrea’s clandestine wickedness, oh, but I blame it on irony.
In short, smarty me decided that it’s best to have
a full cell phone charge in case of power loss.
Without additional thought, I plugged it in and went back to work. The storm’s inner bands made landfall shortly
afterward. Gusty downpours, street
flooding, and a few brownouts later, Andrea made her way to the Jacksonville
exit. Sunshine at last! A couple hours passed and I realized things
were uncomfortably cliché’… as in “quiet…a little too quiet.”
Dread
What have we become when a replaceable bit of
electronics creates a profound sense of loss?
I shudder, albeit slightly, at the thought of such dependency, but
nonetheless the creeping mist of depravation settled in with the effect of a
winter flu. Recent pictures, video,
contacts, and other files that normally get the backup sync treatment—once I
finally reminded myself by internal shouting (“Hey! You know
what happens to others that don’t backup!”)—all lost. At least missing for a few seconds until my
noggin sent a secondary reminder—the logical/sensible response from that part
of the brain—informing me that I was actually conscious enough to use external
memory chips to store everything.
Oh! Okay, but the phone’s still
dead.
Disassembling and inspecting for obvious
electrical torture, recharging (again, even though it never responded to the
plug), internal vacuum, battery change, attempted reset hacking, even a series
of CPR (Cell Phone Resu..oh, never mind; I gave it a vigorous pounding in case
something was shorted). Flatline. Only one recourse remained: Off to the dealer (gulp). So I went with the foreknowledge that unless
the salesman somehow knew a common hack for such a problem, the specter of a
costly replacement lay in waiting. Additional
insult to injury, our contract was only one month from completion. Of course, this blog wouldn’t exist if he
fixed it, right?
The Real
Problem
I
experienced this epiphany before with cable TV.
Contract and equipment re-ups are usually the impetus for a complete
reassessment. What do we really need?
And so, without any cognizant consideration, I go reminiscing the
technically-spartan ‘80s, lamenting all these newfangled subscription costs in
the tone of Jeff Dunham’s Walter to a Radio Shack manager who’s an obvious
twenty-something hipster. Yes, Red
Foreman’s trademark “dumbass” echoed in somewhere in my cranial recesses,
probably from the same part that previously reminded me that MicroSD cards were
no dream. That didn’t stop me.
“I used to get along just fine with a $15-a-month
land line.” That’s when the now infamous
response occurred. “But sir, why go
backwards? Look what we can do now; GPS
and…” I interrupted him on the GPS
pitch. Yes, GPS rocks but seriously, I was
brilliant (toot toot!) with maps and a little extra diligence if needed. Addresses were easy and I didn’t get lost—I
had a pilot’s license for Christ’s sake!
Maps? Backwards? How about driver distraction and infamous GPS
errors? How about knowing where you’re
going before you get in the driver’s seat?
How about looking outside your
car, pal? Oops, there I go again. I can’t blame the manager for his perspective;
his generation matured(?) with the Info Era.
Anything less than the latest, for the most part, is the reverse gear—a
step towards the impoverished third world—and nothing “retro” about it. I stood at the counter and thought about my
next two years under contract. A
business owner and his tools, the family and its needs, the affordability. I surrendered, the coward, but not before
tendering my most revealing argument about this whole idea of costly subscriptions.
$200 per month for my family’s cell plan. $2,400 a year…extra. I dreamed of smugly walking away from the
manager’s counter, “pocketing” that money for a family vacation. I researched this, in fact! For two grand, the wife and I can hop on a
jet to San Juan, Puerto Rico, spend the night on the beach, then board an RCL
ship for an 8-day cruise of the southern Caribbean. Why the Sam Hill am I giving something like
that up—every year, mind you— for a freakin’ cell phone? Yes, I had to ask Mr. Hip Manager his opinion,
citing this example. He glanced up at me,
chuckled briefly to entertain my ego, then dropped back down to his incoming
texts and kept typing. Priorities. His comment stuck with me, however. “Why go backward?”
Ten years ago I felt confidently in charge by
bravely cutting my land line for a full-time $35/month cell phone. Now?
Coward? Conformist? Sheep?
or…is it truly progress? There
goes my little neural collective again.
It’s somewhere off the coast of Antigua screaming, “Fool!”
The Deen Divide
Like you, I’ve seen the Paula Deen headlines and
been subjected to the media’s tribunal ad nauseum. From my observations, the reduction goes
something like this: A elderly white woman
of impoverished southern Georgia descent, once (or a few times) decades ago used
the word “nigger”, now famously while having a gun pointed to her head during a
bank robbery. She may have used it a few
times in her youth as well. This
revelation occurred from deposition she gave as part of a racial and sexual
discrimination lawsuit filed by a white former employee of Paula’s Savannah, GA
“Lady and Sons” restaurant. You know the
rest of this: Her products at Walmart,
Smithfield Foods, Target, Kmart, QVC, JC Penny, Sears, Home Depot, her Food
Network TV show, and even her latest best-pre-selling book—her rags-to-riches empire—all
“lost” in the avalanche. So, why then is
the larger percentage of the American population crying foul?
Context, context, context! All right, there is more at work here than
meets the eye, and I firmly believe the American public isn’t quite as dumb as
the last decade’s politics indicate.
First, the utter hypocrisy surrounding the word itself.
With a few exceptions, you can visit any one of
those stores and find the N-word in some form, likely hidden behind an explicit
warning within the lyrics of countless music CDs, or perhaps as part of the
script of a movie. Heck, I went from
seeing Paula crying on some talk show to hearing Cab Calloway say it on The
Blues Brothers via HBO not a minute later.
The fact is, many of these companies actually profit from artists using
that word—and not 30 years ago; we’re talking right now, today! I hear it regularly in the casual
conversations of youth: In line for a
Slurpee at the 7-11, on front of me at the theater, in passing at the
mall. I hear it everywhere! After all the work Martin Luther King, Jr. slaved
to overcome racism and stereotypes, the pepper-of-the-earth types wantonly throw
it all away …on a word. Unless it’s in a
Mel Brooks movie, I cringe almost every time I hear it, especially when used to
describe Brazilian nuts. It’s just not
funny to me. Suffice to say, I also hear
“cracker”, “redneck”, “honkey” and other un-PC slang with frequency. Why don’t those
bother me? Perhaps I should lighten up,
but the double standard in racism needs to leap into the cauldron of Mt. Doom. Part of that long road to true equality,
perhaps. We’re not in a circle until
there are no sides. Now back to these
pious-looking retailer giants.
The Other
Word: Profit
You think that dumping Paula Deen’s product lines,
endorsements, TV shows and other branded avenues are purely on ethical
grounds? Brother, get your checkbook
out; I’ve got some Florida mountain property you’ve gotta see! Convicted felon Martha Stewart, anyone?
It has been
widely reported
that Deen’s ratings been floundering of late.
Likely, her lucrative endorsement contracts are costing profits.
Until the controversy, presales for her
latest cookbook were also underwhelming.
While I don’t don the tinfoil hat, citing Deen’s case as a PR agency’s
bad girl epithet, one must wonder the ulterior motives.
Paula will undoubtedly rise in her proofing
(sorry, can’t help myself), and it seems prudent to me that most of these
companies simply blended an opportunity to renegotiate a great discount down
the road.
“Here Paula, we forgive
you.
Come back home to (X).”
Riiiight.
About that land for sale…
Disclaimer
Visited Lady and Son’s last December. Mostly marketing branded wares, mostly
unremarkable food, BUT, the chicken pot pie was worth a few joyous
expletives—definitely recommended.
Screwed II
You might recall a
recurring
subject
in this blog.
Cars.
I have a problem with some manufacturers, and
I believe that Americans are not getting a fair shake.
In previous posts, my issue concerned fuel
consumption comparisons.
Evidence seems
to suggest that European car manufacturers not only provide more engine choices
to their international car models, the “same” engines offered in the States
somehow lose a statistically significant amount of fuel economy.
Now I fully understand when a foreign
company, either by tariffs or some other cost or logistical barrier, cannot
offer
all of its products here, but a
domestic manufacturer providing foreign countries with significantly increased
offers than its own seems downright treasonous!
Has anyone noticed the rapidly increasing signals
that, despite all the patriotic slogans and cavalcade of laudable statistics,
America is rapidly descending from global prominence?
Don’t confuse prominence with dominance,
however; this thought regards our ingrained perception that Americans either
make or have access to the latest and best products at all times.
It isn’t true, sadly.
We don’t get the latest cell phones and other
electronics for months after they’ve debuted in Asia or Europe, we can’t drink
Germany’s best beers, and we don’t even have access to cars our domestic
companies manufacture overseas.
Bollocks!
Having been car shopping once again, my latest
gripe has to do with GM. If you read my
prior blog posts, you know I’m a patron.
Lately, I wonder if my loyalty is misplaced. You see, I kind of expect that an American
company would treat its own country better that others. Instead, I discovered that GM evidently likes
other countries better. What
happened? Okay, let me provide some
specifics:
It’s well known that certain models simply don’t
play well here in the States, or that used to be the case.
Fiat 500, Smart, Mini and other successful
brands have been able to maintain a foothold here.
Perhaps the size/power stigma is (as in the
1970s) a myth.
Ford recently brought
over Europe’s wildly-popular
Transit Connect, and, no
thanks to all my grumbles, Chevrolet is finally offering a few car models with
diesel alternatives.
It’s a step in the
right direction, but only a token gesture.
It’s About
Choices
With the global manufacturing machine in place as
it is today, I simply can’t fathom what barriers exist that curtail our choices
as compared to say, Australia. With
regard to America and certain products, I hear this excuse often, “There’s not
enough market for it.” Really? Hmmm.
Let’s get down to the particular case and see what you think.
Most importantly, I wish to buy American.
Creating jobs for my fellow countrymen seems
the virtuous thing to do, let alone availability and savings in eventual parts
and maintenance.
And let’s say I’m in
the market for a compact or medium sized vehicle; a daily commuter with better
practicality than the average sedan.
I
need cargo space more than passenger seats, but it’s nice to have
versatility.
Furthermore, I need astounding
numbers on fuel consumption.
Gasoline
prices likely won’t plummet to pre-Bush pricing anytime soon, and I’m not
willing to squander any potential savings in that department for upfront
cost.
Do car makers believe we’re stupid
enough to think that a 20% annual fuel savings is worth a 20% premium price up
front?
Of course!
My educated guess is they have data to
support that Americans are indeed stupid enough to pay that premium.
<insert PT Barnum/Hannum quote>
Tisk.
I must assume then, that Australia’s population, which is only 7% of
ours, somehow rates not one but three different models of
Holden Cruze (their Chevrolet)
with four engine choices each.
So, GM, what your telling me is that despite the
population difference, Australia somehow generates more demand for hatchbacks
and wagons? Americans must not be
practical or something? Yikes. Think I’ll drive across the street for a Slurpee
and worry about this later.
