Ring! Ring!
Hello!
This is XYZ Corporation. Would you like to take a survey about your recent experience with us?
No, thank you! Click!
Bing! You have email!
Please take a moment to answer a few questions about your recent visit to our site.
Delete!
Do you have enough fingers to count the surveys you've been asked to take in the last month? Maybe even the last week?
Your car repair garage wants to know what you thought after you had an oil change. If you are regular customer, isn't that enough?
After you report a problem to Netflix, the truly friendly folks want you to hang on for a brief survey. After you told them how helpful and friendly they were!
You visit a doctor for a preliminary visit before some minor surgery. The clinic calls you to ask if you would take a brief survey about your visit. Can't the clinic wait until after the post-op visit? Even then, I'll tell the doctor whether I was pleased or not.
The big, bureaucratic insurance company I've been using for several years mailed me a survey about its service. I just answered everything in the middle and sent it back.
It seems like the large corporations measure everything and know the value of nothing.
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Free market and the Internet
Like lots of people, I'm looking for faster internet or even internet. One thing I can say for certain that it is not a free market - few sellers and very little useful information.
At our cabin, we use dialup on our phone that costs us about $37/month. Periodically I dig around Frontier's web site to find information. The latest pricing is $50/month additional for "up to 6Mbps". If I had a internet-dependent business this might make sense. But not for 4 to 8 evenings a month.
In Duluth, our phone bill is $58/month, but I can't break it down at the moment. My wife doesn't save the detail pages of our bill. Given that we used to pay $23/month for land line, then we are paying about $35/month for "up to 7Mbps". I just did a CenturyLink speed test that showed 6Mpbs at 12:50 on a Sunday. Other speed tests in evenings have shown 4Mpbs. Trying to determine what higher speeds would cost is a big hassle. See http://advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=787754 for some users experiences with CenturyLink.
When I bought my iPhone, I switched from Verizon to Virgin Mobile because the pricing was more advantageous to me, only $30/month including data. When we visited our daughter at her lake house near Grand Rapids MN, I thought I would be able to use my iPhone to access the web. I was, sort of. I would get a one-bar 3G signal, then without moving I would get a roaming signal, then no service, then searching, then back to one-bar 3G, even standing by an upstairs window. Our daughter's house is 10 miles from Grand Rapids and less than 2 miles from a major highway. Granted that there are many trees, but can waving leafless trees cause that much variation? The second surprise was that we thought with the iPhone and a low-power FM-to-car-radio cable that we would be able to listen to Minnesota Public Radio all the way back to Duluth without changing the dial. No such luck! On the major highway we were on, the cell signal kept coming in and out. Oh, well, at least the Virgin Mobile/Sprint coverage map doesn't claim that that area is covered.
I knew that AT&T had put up a couple of towers in the Brimson area where we have our cabin, but I've heard many complaints that many AT&T's customer are not satisfied. I checked AT&T's coverage map and did discover coverage areas in Brimson; they are a whole bunch of small islands that make no sense. Besides telling me that our cabin address is could not be matched (other web sites can find it), it shows a coverage area that starts just west of where our cabin is and ends less than a mile farther west. That's too iffy to make a decision with.
The lesson is that you have to make a long checklist of all the features you want in a product and then spend hours and hours to find out what portion of those features are available to you at a price you want to pay. Nobody else is going to help you. And of course, after you buy the product, you'll find a new feature you want but your choice doesn't provide – like listening to public radio without switching stations.
At our cabin, we use dialup on our phone that costs us about $37/month. Periodically I dig around Frontier's web site to find information. The latest pricing is $50/month additional for "up to 6Mbps". If I had a internet-dependent business this might make sense. But not for 4 to 8 evenings a month.
In Duluth, our phone bill is $58/month, but I can't break it down at the moment. My wife doesn't save the detail pages of our bill. Given that we used to pay $23/month for land line, then we are paying about $35/month for "up to 7Mbps". I just did a CenturyLink speed test that showed 6Mpbs at 12:50 on a Sunday. Other speed tests in evenings have shown 4Mpbs. Trying to determine what higher speeds would cost is a big hassle. See http://advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=787754 for some users experiences with CenturyLink.
When I bought my iPhone, I switched from Verizon to Virgin Mobile because the pricing was more advantageous to me, only $30/month including data. When we visited our daughter at her lake house near Grand Rapids MN, I thought I would be able to use my iPhone to access the web. I was, sort of. I would get a one-bar 3G signal, then without moving I would get a roaming signal, then no service, then searching, then back to one-bar 3G, even standing by an upstairs window. Our daughter's house is 10 miles from Grand Rapids and less than 2 miles from a major highway. Granted that there are many trees, but can waving leafless trees cause that much variation? The second surprise was that we thought with the iPhone and a low-power FM-to-car-radio cable that we would be able to listen to Minnesota Public Radio all the way back to Duluth without changing the dial. No such luck! On the major highway we were on, the cell signal kept coming in and out. Oh, well, at least the Virgin Mobile/Sprint coverage map doesn't claim that that area is covered.
I knew that AT&T had put up a couple of towers in the Brimson area where we have our cabin, but I've heard many complaints that many AT&T's customer are not satisfied. I checked AT&T's coverage map and did discover coverage areas in Brimson; they are a whole bunch of small islands that make no sense. Besides telling me that our cabin address is could not be matched (other web sites can find it), it shows a coverage area that starts just west of where our cabin is and ends less than a mile farther west. That's too iffy to make a decision with.
The lesson is that you have to make a long checklist of all the features you want in a product and then spend hours and hours to find out what portion of those features are available to you at a price you want to pay. Nobody else is going to help you. And of course, after you buy the product, you'll find a new feature you want but your choice doesn't provide – like listening to public radio without switching stations.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
What's this about the DMV?
One of the favorite government punching bags in cartoons and politics is the Department of Motor Vehicles. Supposedly all across the country DMVs are hotbeds of long lines and surliness.
Whoever is making these assertions doesn't live in Minnesota. I had a wait of less than ten minutes, each clerk treated customers with respect, even when there were problems, and I was served with grace and humor. Thanks, Julie!
Granted that I renewed my driver's license at the County Auditor's branch office, but it is the representative of the Department of Vehicle Services.
Whoever is making these assertions doesn't live in Minnesota. I had a wait of less than ten minutes, each clerk treated customers with respect, even when there were problems, and I was served with grace and humor. Thanks, Julie!
Granted that I renewed my driver's license at the County Auditor's branch office, but it is the representative of the Department of Vehicle Services.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
A good workman never blames his tools. Oh?
This old saw probably comes from someone blaming the saw for a crooked cut. A good workman should be able to cut straight no matter how crooked the saw.
Oh, yeah!
What is often not considered is that a good workman has all the tools needed to do any job he expects to do. He won't use a flat blade screwdriver on a Philips screw or a hexagonal wrench on a square nut.
I had another lesson on having the right tools for the job at hand. We bought a humongous DR chipper with the slogan on the cover, "Professional power for the homeowner".
Sorry, but to do routine maintenance on this chipper requires tools many homeowners don't usually have. My socket wrenches do not reach the nuts holding the blade in place and my L-shaped Allen wrenches do not reach the screw heads. Well, they do reach but the angle does not permit either a good purchase or sufficient swing room.
So, I went to the hardware store to buy "non-standard" accessories for my tools. I bought three-inch extenders for my half-inch and three-eighths-inch socket wrenches. I do have a six-inch extender for the latter, but that length gives less purchase on really tight nuts. I also bought a 7/32-inch Allen insert for a socket wrench. Unfortunately, the hardware store only had this size inserts for quarter-inch wrenches. So, I had to buy an adapter also.
All homeowners who have all these tools in their toolboxes please raise their hands. I thought so. Of the twenty or so people who read this blog I don't see any hands raised.
The good news is that I have changed blades on the chipper. It did take a few grimacing pushes on the wrenches to get the nuts loose, but I did within a few minutes. The last time the blade needed changing, I had to tow the chipper back to the equipment store, a 40+ mile drive at 45 mph.
The next thing to do is to check the wear plate against the sharper blade. It looks like it will be fun doing so. The bolts holding the plate have slotted heads and are in a position that there is no way to get any purchase with a standard six-inch screwdriver.
Well, I did check the wear plate and it took me the rest of the afternoon.
First, the bolt heads are not slotted at all. They are carriage bolts with a square shaft just below the head to fit into the square holes in the wear plate.
I loosened all three bolts so that I could wiggle them, which meant that I should be able to wiggle the wear plate. No such luck. It was glued to the throat of the chipper by dried sap and so forth. I had to stick wood between the flywheel and the wear plate. I had to use a tack puller for leverage. I did this and that for a very long time.
Then when the wear plate was finally loose, it was too loose. Using the template for judging the gap, I would get one side at the right gap and the other side would be too tight. Back and forth. Tighten the nuts to make the plate slide a bit more slowly. One side would be proper; the other side would stop the blade.
On and on. Finally I had the plate so it didn't hit the blade. But the gap was a bit too big. Oh, well! It didn't look as wide as when I started.
I won't bore you with all the details of getting the chipper back together, but back together it is. I also cranked it up and chipped a small pile. For the most part, it just sucked stuff in. Definitely better than when I started.
The big question is are we better off with this high volume chipper with its high maintenance than we were with a low volume chipper that jammed frequently and sometimes didn't even start. I would say yes, but I will keep wondering every time I have to loosen all those bolts for some simple maintenance.
Oh, yeah!
What is often not considered is that a good workman has all the tools needed to do any job he expects to do. He won't use a flat blade screwdriver on a Philips screw or a hexagonal wrench on a square nut.
I had another lesson on having the right tools for the job at hand. We bought a humongous DR chipper with the slogan on the cover, "Professional power for the homeowner".
Sorry, but to do routine maintenance on this chipper requires tools many homeowners don't usually have. My socket wrenches do not reach the nuts holding the blade in place and my L-shaped Allen wrenches do not reach the screw heads. Well, they do reach but the angle does not permit either a good purchase or sufficient swing room.
So, I went to the hardware store to buy "non-standard" accessories for my tools. I bought three-inch extenders for my half-inch and three-eighths-inch socket wrenches. I do have a six-inch extender for the latter, but that length gives less purchase on really tight nuts. I also bought a 7/32-inch Allen insert for a socket wrench. Unfortunately, the hardware store only had this size inserts for quarter-inch wrenches. So, I had to buy an adapter also.
All homeowners who have all these tools in their toolboxes please raise their hands. I thought so. Of the twenty or so people who read this blog I don't see any hands raised.
The good news is that I have changed blades on the chipper. It did take a few grimacing pushes on the wrenches to get the nuts loose, but I did within a few minutes. The last time the blade needed changing, I had to tow the chipper back to the equipment store, a 40+ mile drive at 45 mph.
The next thing to do is to check the wear plate against the sharper blade. It looks like it will be fun doing so. The bolts holding the plate have slotted heads and are in a position that there is no way to get any purchase with a standard six-inch screwdriver.
Well, I did check the wear plate and it took me the rest of the afternoon.
First, the bolt heads are not slotted at all. They are carriage bolts with a square shaft just below the head to fit into the square holes in the wear plate.
I loosened all three bolts so that I could wiggle them, which meant that I should be able to wiggle the wear plate. No such luck. It was glued to the throat of the chipper by dried sap and so forth. I had to stick wood between the flywheel and the wear plate. I had to use a tack puller for leverage. I did this and that for a very long time.
Then when the wear plate was finally loose, it was too loose. Using the template for judging the gap, I would get one side at the right gap and the other side would be too tight. Back and forth. Tighten the nuts to make the plate slide a bit more slowly. One side would be proper; the other side would stop the blade.
On and on. Finally I had the plate so it didn't hit the blade. But the gap was a bit too big. Oh, well! It didn't look as wide as when I started.
I won't bore you with all the details of getting the chipper back together, but back together it is. I also cranked it up and chipped a small pile. For the most part, it just sucked stuff in. Definitely better than when I started.
The big question is are we better off with this high volume chipper with its high maintenance than we were with a low volume chipper that jammed frequently and sometimes didn't even start. I would say yes, but I will keep wondering every time I have to loosen all those bolts for some simple maintenance.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Food, A Personal Essay
I was cleaning my desk and came across the printout of the following essay. At first I couldn't find it on my computer, but then I did as a WriteNow document. I was able to get a scrambled version with Word and edited it to its original form. I originally wrote it 2000-08-03 for a Split Rock class at UMD, “Personal Essay Seminar” with Bill Holm.
What is it you remember of “memorable” meals: the food, the place, the guests, or the conversation? I find that I remember the place and where I sat more than anything else. I may remember the guests, especially family members. Sometimes I remember the food. Rarely do I remember the conversation.
I can remember sitting with my wife and children on the terrace of a restaurant on the road between Rome and Naples eating a fish of some sort. I don’t remember the name of the fish, only that it was a small, whole fish that I ate without a bit of squeamishness, an achievement that I felt proud of. But I remember better the terrace above the road and the road above the sea which was about a mile away, each being separated from the other by a bright, green band of trees which we looked down on.
I can remember sitting in another outdoor restaurant near Pompei on the same trip. I remember that we sat in the ell of the building with a trellis overhead. I don’t remember the food but I remember that we drank Lacrima Christi (Tears of Christ), a pleasant white wine.
I can remember eating Wiener Schnitzel, pommes frites, und gemichste salat at a restaurant in Basel, Switzerland. I should remember as I ate there frequently and selected that food most of the time. I was alone and sat at one of many sanded tables. I may have had the table to myself or if the restaurant was crowded I would share it with strangers.
I can remember eating lutefisk for the first and only time in an office building in Sweden. I didn’t like the lutefisk. My Swedish colleagues chose something else from the menu.
If I remember the food, I remember little of its texture and taste. The place is much more memorable. My position at the table, the position of the table in the room, the decor of the room, the neighborhood of the restaurant. Why is this?
Do we remember more by sight than taste because we spend so much time navigating with our eyes? How rare is it that we move toward a smell? We may turn into a restaurant because of the good smells coming from it, but we didn’t criss-cross a neighborhood like a predator sniffing the air for prey. We first went through the neighborhood using our eyes to find our way. I remember loving to walk or drive by a commercial bakery, feasting with my nose on the invigorating smell of fresh-baked bread. But I got to the area using my eyes, not my nose. I wouldn’t be able to smell the bakery three blocks away.
Great chefs and good cooks understand the importance of sight in appreciating food.
Bör dock ögonen ha sin spis och födo till fyllnad.
Yet must the eyes have their nourishment and feed until filled.
A Swedish chef lays out a smörgåsbord as a series of platters and dishes in a pattern suggesting the appropriate order to select groups of dishes. Silver herring, golden cheese, and dark hard bread. Red salmon, green parsley, and yellow lemon. White chicken, brown paté, and red tomatoes. Golden flounder, pink sausage, and green beans. Red berries, yellow melon, and ginger cookies.
The staff of a Japanese ryokan serves dinner and breakfast in a dozen lacquered dishes for each person. Most of the items have bright colors and they lay out the dishes in a specific pattern. A clear soup with red snapper and green onions. A slice of golden rolled omelet with green daikon. Chilled white tofu with black sesame seeds. White and green cabbage with dark shitake mushrooms. They hide the workaday electric rice cooker and airpot of tea on the floor at the end of the table.
A German cook piles a plate from edge to edge with meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The large servings suggest abundance and encourage Guten Appetit!
A French chef places a few ingredients on each plate of a many course dinner. The chef balances the flavors and the appearance. The small servings suggest that the dish is to be savored slowly.
On the negative side, one of our friends turned our stomachs off just with how the food looked on the plate - burnt chicken with mushy canned peas and lumpy potatoes.
We also remember the service we receive.
At a Holiday Inn we ordered lunch at a busy time. We placed our order and soon after a waitress served my wife’s food, our kid’s food, and my bottle of beer. A couple came to a nearby table. They ordered. A waitress served their food. The couple ate, paid, and left. My wife and kids finished their food. For forty-five minutes I tapped my foot and twiddled my thumbs, but nobody brought my sandwich. I said we were leaving. As we stood up, a waitress pushed a cart with sandwich came through the door but I ignored her. I told the hostess that I would pay for my family’s food and my beer but not my sandwich. I felt an immense power when I noticed that her hand shook more than my voice.
At a restaurant outside Rome eight of us had had a reasonably pleasant meal and good conversation. When we were ready to leave we asked the waiter, “Il conto, prego” (the bill, please). He replied, “Subito” (right away). Five minutes later, we asked, “Il conto, prego.” He replied, “Subito.” And again, “Il conto, prego.” “Subito.” And yet again, and again. After about twenty minutes, we all stood up and started to leave. The waiter wrote the bill subito!
At a restaurant near the Houston space center, the service was impeccable. As soon as I finished a course, the waiter would appear, remove the dish, and bring the next course.
This little exercise is bringing back so many memories of memorable meals. I do remember many tastes but almost all of them are associated with place.
I remember eating kielbasa in the train station in Budapest but neither the flavor or the texture. But I can still taste the Polish sausage from the Twin Ports Brewing Co. in Superior, Wisconsin.
I can remember the melted ice cream sandwich that still held its shape but not where I contemplated eating it. I can remember sitting in our dining room savoring every spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s The World’s Best Vanilla Ice Cream, the only ice cream worthy of the name “ice cream”.
I can remember the calamari at a long-gone Thai restaurant on Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis; it was so hot that it made my eyes and nose run. I can remember picking jalapeño peppers from our garden in Plymouth and nibbling them as I took them to the house; “Ooh, that’s hot! Mmm, that’s good! I’ll have another bite.”
This is making me too hungry to continue. My wife just came back from the deli with supper. I’m going to check out what she bought.
Postscript: The deli food was so-so veggie stuff but she also bought a fresh, locally-grown, organic beefsteak tomato, picked fresh raspberries from a co-worker’s yard, and bought Ben & Jerry’s The World’s Best Vanilla Ice Cream!
What is it you remember of “memorable” meals: the food, the place, the guests, or the conversation? I find that I remember the place and where I sat more than anything else. I may remember the guests, especially family members. Sometimes I remember the food. Rarely do I remember the conversation.
I can remember sitting with my wife and children on the terrace of a restaurant on the road between Rome and Naples eating a fish of some sort. I don’t remember the name of the fish, only that it was a small, whole fish that I ate without a bit of squeamishness, an achievement that I felt proud of. But I remember better the terrace above the road and the road above the sea which was about a mile away, each being separated from the other by a bright, green band of trees which we looked down on.
I can remember sitting in another outdoor restaurant near Pompei on the same trip. I remember that we sat in the ell of the building with a trellis overhead. I don’t remember the food but I remember that we drank Lacrima Christi (Tears of Christ), a pleasant white wine.
I can remember eating Wiener Schnitzel, pommes frites, und gemichste salat at a restaurant in Basel, Switzerland. I should remember as I ate there frequently and selected that food most of the time. I was alone and sat at one of many sanded tables. I may have had the table to myself or if the restaurant was crowded I would share it with strangers.
I can remember eating lutefisk for the first and only time in an office building in Sweden. I didn’t like the lutefisk. My Swedish colleagues chose something else from the menu.
If I remember the food, I remember little of its texture and taste. The place is much more memorable. My position at the table, the position of the table in the room, the decor of the room, the neighborhood of the restaurant. Why is this?
Do we remember more by sight than taste because we spend so much time navigating with our eyes? How rare is it that we move toward a smell? We may turn into a restaurant because of the good smells coming from it, but we didn’t criss-cross a neighborhood like a predator sniffing the air for prey. We first went through the neighborhood using our eyes to find our way. I remember loving to walk or drive by a commercial bakery, feasting with my nose on the invigorating smell of fresh-baked bread. But I got to the area using my eyes, not my nose. I wouldn’t be able to smell the bakery three blocks away.
Great chefs and good cooks understand the importance of sight in appreciating food.
Bör dock ögonen ha sin spis och födo till fyllnad.
Yet must the eyes have their nourishment and feed until filled.
A Swedish chef lays out a smörgåsbord as a series of platters and dishes in a pattern suggesting the appropriate order to select groups of dishes. Silver herring, golden cheese, and dark hard bread. Red salmon, green parsley, and yellow lemon. White chicken, brown paté, and red tomatoes. Golden flounder, pink sausage, and green beans. Red berries, yellow melon, and ginger cookies.
The staff of a Japanese ryokan serves dinner and breakfast in a dozen lacquered dishes for each person. Most of the items have bright colors and they lay out the dishes in a specific pattern. A clear soup with red snapper and green onions. A slice of golden rolled omelet with green daikon. Chilled white tofu with black sesame seeds. White and green cabbage with dark shitake mushrooms. They hide the workaday electric rice cooker and airpot of tea on the floor at the end of the table.
A German cook piles a plate from edge to edge with meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The large servings suggest abundance and encourage Guten Appetit!
A French chef places a few ingredients on each plate of a many course dinner. The chef balances the flavors and the appearance. The small servings suggest that the dish is to be savored slowly.
On the negative side, one of our friends turned our stomachs off just with how the food looked on the plate - burnt chicken with mushy canned peas and lumpy potatoes.
We also remember the service we receive.
At a Holiday Inn we ordered lunch at a busy time. We placed our order and soon after a waitress served my wife’s food, our kid’s food, and my bottle of beer. A couple came to a nearby table. They ordered. A waitress served their food. The couple ate, paid, and left. My wife and kids finished their food. For forty-five minutes I tapped my foot and twiddled my thumbs, but nobody brought my sandwich. I said we were leaving. As we stood up, a waitress pushed a cart with sandwich came through the door but I ignored her. I told the hostess that I would pay for my family’s food and my beer but not my sandwich. I felt an immense power when I noticed that her hand shook more than my voice.
At a restaurant outside Rome eight of us had had a reasonably pleasant meal and good conversation. When we were ready to leave we asked the waiter, “Il conto, prego” (the bill, please). He replied, “Subito” (right away). Five minutes later, we asked, “Il conto, prego.” He replied, “Subito.” And again, “Il conto, prego.” “Subito.” And yet again, and again. After about twenty minutes, we all stood up and started to leave. The waiter wrote the bill subito!
At a restaurant near the Houston space center, the service was impeccable. As soon as I finished a course, the waiter would appear, remove the dish, and bring the next course.
This little exercise is bringing back so many memories of memorable meals. I do remember many tastes but almost all of them are associated with place.
I remember eating kielbasa in the train station in Budapest but neither the flavor or the texture. But I can still taste the Polish sausage from the Twin Ports Brewing Co. in Superior, Wisconsin.
I can remember the melted ice cream sandwich that still held its shape but not where I contemplated eating it. I can remember sitting in our dining room savoring every spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s The World’s Best Vanilla Ice Cream, the only ice cream worthy of the name “ice cream”.
I can remember the calamari at a long-gone Thai restaurant on Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis; it was so hot that it made my eyes and nose run. I can remember picking jalapeño peppers from our garden in Plymouth and nibbling them as I took them to the house; “Ooh, that’s hot! Mmm, that’s good! I’ll have another bite.”
This is making me too hungry to continue. My wife just came back from the deli with supper. I’m going to check out what she bought.
Postscript: The deli food was so-so veggie stuff but she also bought a fresh, locally-grown, organic beefsteak tomato, picked fresh raspberries from a co-worker’s yard, and bought Ben & Jerry’s The World’s Best Vanilla Ice Cream!
Thursday, April 08, 2010
The friendly IRS
Tonight I had another encounter with a friendly government employee. Some people consider that an oxymoron, but I have often found that people employed to give service generally give good service, whether in government or private enterprise.
I had difficulty finding the PDF for a tax schedule at www.irs.gov. I could find the instructions for it but not the form itself. I finally went to the help page, looked up the number for the web page help desk, and dialed it. With two more numbers I reached a very friendly fellow in one ring, and he led me to the form in two steps.
I should have asked if he was a government employee or a contractor. Whatever, somebody on the government side was responsible for being sure those on the front line were friendly.
I had difficulty finding the PDF for a tax schedule at www.irs.gov. I could find the instructions for it but not the form itself. I finally went to the help page, looked up the number for the web page help desk, and dialed it. With two more numbers I reached a very friendly fellow in one ring, and he led me to the form in two steps.
I should have asked if he was a government employee or a contractor. Whatever, somebody on the government side was responsible for being sure those on the front line were friendly.
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