Bridging the generations with shopping

When I was younger, perhaps high school age, my mom and I took a shopping trip to the Country Club Plaza in Kansas City. Some of her favorite stores were still there and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Mommy loved the old fashioned stores that had lovely rugs, served tea while you shopped and had huge powder rooms with soft upholstered furniture. After that shopping trip with her, I fell in love with that style of retail shopping experience too.

I don’t keep up with economic indicators, vis-à-vis the impact of unemployment and recession to privately-owned retailers.

However, in 2008, I started noticing some changes.

One particular day, shortly after Thanksgiving, I was doing some Christmas shopping and visited a couple of well established clothing boutiques in Houston. At Kathryn Risley’s shop I noticed that the inventory appeared very sparse, particularly given the time of year. However, I was fortunate enough to find a lovely top for my mom, on a mark-down rack, so I made my purchase and counted my blessings. Earlier that day, at Etui, another favorite just down the street, I had overheard one of the staff members at the shop telling a customer that they hadn’t observed any change to their customer’s spending habits, despite all the reports of economic doom and gloom.

Etui is located in an upscale urban neighborhood, but their merchandise is very reasonably priced. Well, not priced like TJ Maxx, but you know, not like the privately owned boutiques on Chicago’s famed Oak Street either.

It sounded like their client base was loyal enough and financially secure enough to continue spending money on clothing and accessories.

I was relieved to hear this news. While I’m certainly far from an avid shopper, I love pretty clothing and accessories and love knowing that there are a few places where I am confident I can locate completely unique, quality garments in a comfortable, but stimulating atmosphere at a price point that works within my budget.

Elizabeth’s Boutique in The Woodlands falls in this category too. I had been fortunate enough to time my last couple of visits to this lovely store to take advantage of an after-season clearance. But new inventory was still plentiful. My optimism remained high. These boutiques gave me the same feeling of that shopping experience with my mom some 30 years ago.

Kathryn Risley sent an email in early spring 2009, saying that she had closed her store and was launching a new fashion venture in an online space.

Six or seven months later, I received an email from Etui indicating that they were announcing a new fashion partner that was going to share their retail space. Hmmm. It didn’t lure me in, but I was hopeful their resourcefulness would carry them through the apparent financial difficulties creeping into even these businesses with a “loyal” customer base.

About four weeks ago, I noticed a “Sale” banner at Elizabeth’s Boutique indicating they were going out of business.

Then today another email arrived from Etui. They are closing their doors after almost 30 years.

I have to admit, it bothers me. I don’t know if shopping at independent retailers has been largely replaced by shopping online. Perhaps Kathryn Risley knows. Perhaps permanent changes in human behavior have been established, driven by technology, fuel cost and basic economics.

But on the eve of Mother’s Day, this news has extinguished the possibility of participating in an experience that always made me feel like my mother’s daughter.

More thriftiness

Sailing on the success of last weekend’s thrift store outing, I have continued on the quest for dinner forks and buffet plates this week. Monday’s target was a rather upscale thrift store in the heart of the Montrose. It is staffed with a hefty supply of volunteers that resemble museum docents. My journey rewarded me with a set of 7 dessert plates in a modern floral design, shades of orange, pink and yellow. Quite festive and only $10.

Then yesterday, on the way home from work, a little voice urged me to pull off and dash into Dillard’s clearance center store. I had been there 2 or 3 weeks ago and doubted that the inventory would have changed much, but I heeded the voice. And the reward was worth the extra time. Open stock china priced at 99-cents. Only three patterns available, and mostly saucers without cups, but I was fortunate enough to get an armful of pretty bone china salad plates for under $20.

However, the fork shortage still lingers in the shadows of my thoughts. So today I went to the Salvation Army family store in the Heights on a quest for dinner forks. There were a lot, just not a lot that I liked. I prefer a dining utensil that feels weighty in your hand, so the stamped metal utensils, the kind that are plentiful in thrift stores, don’t exactly do it for me. Thankfully there were a half dozen that met the minimum criteria and at 20-cents per piece, who can complain, right?

I casually glanced at a few other items, but with not much time to spare, I made my purchase and headed back to work. Future thrift store outings will continue to be part of my future as I move down the list to other items queued up in my mind’s periphery.

Thrifty

Wedding day is approaching and we are beginning to ask ourselves questions like, do we have enough glasses, plates, forks? Do we know exactly what else we need for decoration?

I was talking with my mom on the phone last night and she asked: what are you going to wear?

These are all good questions and there is not a clear answer to any. Yet.

I suspect we’re a little deficient on some of these items, so this morning I went to two of the thrift stores nearby to see what I could find, within a modest budget. I don’t make it a habit to go to thrift stores, but in the spirit of full disclosure, I don’t make it a habit to go to any store except for groceries and other consumable necessities. The point is, I don’t have much of a shopping habit and I have not developed the fine art of sniffing out the excellent values at thrift stores. (I have heard urban legends about such people.) My number one objective today was to get forks.

It was a moderately successful outing. For an investment of $30 I acquired a domed cake pedestal, a pretty assortment of knives and forks, and 4 pieces of stemware that just happen to match a pair of wine glasses we already have. However, I have a feeling that a few more trips to the thrift store will be in my immediate future because as satisfied as I am with these purchases, I simply did not get enough forks.

Seriously, there were literally buckets full of dinner knives, but a true scarcity of forks. Even though I was not planning to get any knives, I had to sift through hundreds to find the few forks that I did purchase, and along the way found some very pretty table knives.

My hypothesis about this is that forks disappear. True statement? In my own personal inventory, dinner knives are indeed the most plentiful. Spoons come in second and forks sadly lag behind in third place.

So when donations arrive to the thrift store (the inventory), knives are in greatest supply.

But consumer demand gobbles up the scarce supply of forks that happen to arrive.

Thus, a few more visits (to other) thrift stores will be required to satisfy my own demand for the upcoming wedding celebration.

Plus, if I focus on the forks for a short while longer, I won’t have to worry about what to wear. Yet.

The value of love

I read an advice column a little earlier this morning (Prudie’s column, http://www.slate.com/id/2247473/) about the financial burden of purchasing a diamond engagement ring. The young man seeking the advice did not want to over-extend himself way beyond his comfort zone in order to enter marital bliss. It was no secret to him that his hopeful bride-to-be wanted a sparkly engagement ring. He preferred to opt for a less costly engagement ring, or possibly none at all, but he did not want to lose the love of his life over a purchase, that when compared to the price of a car, pales in comparison.

I have heard other men sort of grumble over the “ticket price” of getting engaged. So then, I start to wonder, how many of these individuals drive automobiles that had a price tag over $20K? How many of these individuals have purchased other pricey items for their own amusement such as televisions, guitars, mountain bikes, hunting/fishing equipment, cameras, golf clubs….?

So what’s up with that? Why is the purchase of an engagement ring perceived to be burdensome? OK, not with everyone to be sure, but it’s out there.

We live in a culture heavily laden with the opportunity to purchase luxury items of all sorts. Designer shoes, resort vacations, homes with professionally equipped kitchens and sumptuous master baths, private school tuition, Swiss wristwatches, German cars, French wine.

Do we all overindulge? No. But in truth, most Americans probably spend money to support the best lifestyle they can afford. They purchase the best car within their budget. They buy a house in the best neighborhood they can afford. They spend money as wisely as they can on recreational items that suit their family’s preferences. In other words, they buy the things they value. This is the financial value we assign to living our lives.

So what is the value of love? Ouch. Sounds so unromantic.

On the one hand, our culture recognizes and celebrates the tradition and ceremony around marriage and the engagement ring, good or bad, is an important symbolic part of that tradition. Our culture is very good at recognizing symbols. A solitaire diamond ring is a symbol of love and promise between two people. It tells us they have agreed to join their lives in marriage. Every morning, as she dresses, this woman will place her engagement ring on her hand along with her wedding ring and it will remind her that the person she married valued her enough to express their love with this symbol. It makes her feel valued by extension.

On the other hand, it’s not for everyone. Not everyone needs to feel valued by wearing a big sparkly ring.

But back to our advice-column guy, this is not the case for the woman he hopes to marry.

Here's my (unsolicited) advice to you, dude. Take her shopping and pay attention to the rings that make her catch her breath. And then buy one of those. Buy the one that you want her to associate with you when she glances at it on her hand every day for the rest of her life.

Because trust me, it could go another way. Say you don’t buy it now and you tell yourself that you’ll get one for her later, when you’re established in your career. Then in a year or two, when you’re out of grad school and you’ve got a nice job, you decide to go shopping for a nice big expensive car for yourself. You’ll conveniently tell yourself that you can pick your wife up some diamond earrings for your wedding anniversary. The ring is forgotten.

You will never get engaged to her again. You will never marry her again. The symbol of your love around this all-important ritualistic passage of life is too important to diminish.

Get over yourself, cheapskate.

Seems like I might have some personal issues around this particular topic. OK. Busted. But hey, it’s my diary.

Chick flick

I’m a chick flick sort of girl. I like movies where the central themes are about building human relationships and making peace with yourself. If the characters are somewhat fashion minded with great shoes and accessories, that’s a big plus. I like intelligent dialog, sweet sentimentality and a good, old-fashioned Hollywood happy ending (sniffle, sniffle).

After all, with the price of movies these days ($19 for two tickets before 5pm thank you very much and $5 for a small popcorn) I don’t need to add an artificial layer of stress to my current existence. I don’t want anxiety, loud bangs, aggressive personalities or dark suspense. I’d be emotionally wiped out by the time the movie is over.

So, dear filmmakers, I realize I might be among a rapidly declining demographic, but please keep making chick movies. Thank you.

Equal time

On the flip-side of the real-life customer service experience, it is only right to describe the good, since yesterday was all about the not-so-good. And by good, I mean, delightfully and surprisingly wonderful.

I am inspired by a woman named Carolyn who was a former colleague and friend. Unfortunately we lost touch many years ago, but I have always remembered her stories. She was an astute manager and adhered to several effective techniques for managing her staff in a productive way. One of her techniques focused on dedicating more time to communicating about good things than bad. Some members of her team had a tendency to walk into her office with complaints. While she wanted to offer an ear to true problems, she did not want to create an open-door policy for idly airing grievances. One of her policies was that the person sitting across her desk could verbalize a negative observation about the workplace only after giving two positive observations.

So here is my equal airtime, ala Carolyn’s method. I just reversed the order.

First place goes to CVS. Their automated customer service line gives me a call approximately 10 days before my prescription runs out and by pressing a few buttons on my telephone keypad, I’ve just submitted an easy-easy refill request. I am the type of person that forgets to call until I’m out of medicine, so this proactive customer service benefit is astonishingly simple, but truly appreciated! I don’t even mind that it’s an automated system calling and not a human.

Second place goes to the friendly staff members at BBVA-Compass Bank and Amegy Bank. They must have some sort of banking competition going on, because I noticed after recent visits to both (in the lobby) that a staff member of each bank made it a point to offer a personal, cheerful greeting, complete with eye contact and a genuine smile. It was such a nice feeling and I will probably make it a point to go inside the bank next time I’m there rather than the drive-through.

Real life reality - the customer experience episode

There is a cost associated with providing customer service. To stay in business, companies load those costs into the price of the items they sell. To remain profitable, they have to keep operational costs as low as possible. For some companies that have slender profit margins, revving up the volume on customer service is not in the cards. Processes are streamlined and automated. So when problems occur, their customers find that they share a portion of the burden of sorting things out.

Here’s an example, from a recent episode in our own real-life reality series. (who needs television when you've got real life to keep things exciting?)

We purchased a product from an online consumer electronics outfit in early January. We had been watching the price points carefully and selected an optimally priced item, actually an exceptional value. A week or so later we received an email giving us the contact information for the retailer’s delivery services vendor so we could call and coordinate delivery with that firm directly.

Cristy called and selected a delivery date. We have both received a number of shipments to our personal residences through the years, and in our collective experience, freight companies contact the recipient with an estimated delivery window, say a 2-to-4 hour window, so the recipient will actually be at the premises when the shipment arrives. Given this experience, Cristy anticipated that the shipper would call in advance to give her an approximate time, but they did not. They just arrived at the house. Someone was (thankfully) at our house that day and received the product in our stead. It was in a large, bulky box and the delivery person did not have a dolly; they both carried it into the house. But we were dismayed when we arrived home to discover it was the wrong product. And not just a little bit wrong, but really wrong. It was way, way more expensive than the item we purchased.

Cristy called the next day to sort it out. The online retailer had no idea how this mistake might have occurred; they were shocked. Their plan to remedy the situation was to dispatch the delivery company back to our house to retrieve the product and when it had been returned, they would ship the item we ordered.

The next week, we were back on the delivery vendor’s schedule for the pickup. It was one guy, again without a dolly. He did not know what he was supposed to get or who he was supposed to invoice. He man-handled the box out to the truck by himself and drove off without securing the box inside the back of the truck. Cristy watched in complete disbelief, certain that the product would fall over and break as soon as he turned the first corner. Then as if to heighten the drama, she noticed that the strapping around the box had badly cut into our wood floors. The driver had pushed the box directly across the floor without covering it first. Nice.

She called the online retailer again, to notify them of both the damage to our property by their vendor and the incredibly high possibility that the product would be returned to them damaged because of the freight company’s failure to properly secure the cargo within their vehicle. The online retailer suggested that we initiate a discussion with the freight service company to pursue a remedy for the floor scratching.

Over the next couple of weeks, Cristy spoke to no fewer than 5 people at that freight company about the incident. None of them had any idea what to do. It was as if this was the first time in the company’s history that an incident of this sort had occurred. Completely frustrating (for us). Someone finally gave her the telephone number of an insurance company to file a claim. OK.

In the meantime, we received an invoice from the freight company since they had to make a second trip to our house to retrieve the equipment mistakenly delivered. I attempted to resolve that with an email to the online retailer’s customer service group, but it appears that “online customer service” is not actually staffed by humans. All replies appeared to be computer generated and were not oriented toward solving problems. Cristy called someone at the customer service center and received agreement that they would handle the mistaken invoice.

About the same time, our originally ordered product was approaching; we received word that we could again call the freight company to arrange delivery. Cristy called and selected a day, but the day came and went without a call to her. She called again and they said they would get to it the next day. On my way home the following day, Cristy told me that the delivery truck was en route to our house. Thankfully she had called to check, because again, they failed to contact her. They arrived shortly after I got home.

The very nice delivery man informed me that he had instructions not to enter our house, so he would leave the product either in the garage or outside on the front porch. I opted for the front porch. The product was strapped to a small pallet and he moved it from the truck to our porch by see-sawing it back and forth on the corners of the pallet. He opened the packaging to confirm that the product was intact. I signed the receipt form and he left. When Cristy arrived, we carried the item indoors and disposed of the packaging ourselves (except for the pallet – waiting for heavy trash day).

At the end of the episode, we received what we ordered and the online retailer offered us a small cash rebate. We have a badly scratched floor for which we need to buy a rug, the cost of which will not be covered by the cash rebate. And we still need to begin a conversation with the freight company’s insurance carrier to pursue a possible reimbursement for the floor repairs.

As retailers shift their business models to strictly online customer interaction, the cost of doing business also shifts to the consumers. The two companies in question? CircuitCity.com and YRC, Inc. Buyer beware.

Overdue

True confession time. I’m a fugitive. Well, not quite yet. Truth is I have not yet been discovered for the scoundrel that I am. And if any Texas law enforcement officers should come knocking on my door after reading this tell-all confession, I will surely try to hide behind my dog, Jackie. Who is 14. And can barely stand up.

The back story: between the time that I was closing the real estate transaction on my old house and moving into this new house, I was living in a state of suspension. My belongings were packed up, but I did not have access to them. Day to day life proceeded, but I was just not grounded. Time was swishing by, almost on fast forward. By the time that we moved at the end of October, I had lived in this manner for about three months. The habits of managing some of the things in my own life had ceased, slipping unnoticed through the cracks. Things like updating the address on my automobile registration.

I was expecting a letter in the mail to renew my license plate. But of course it didn’t come. The sticker on my window says 11-09. That would be overdue. In December, I thought I might have a little spare time to drop by the appropriate government office to figure out what I needed to do about my tiny oversight. But, turned out that spare time was just a figment of my overactive imagination.

Yesterday I was studying that little sticker in my window as I drove to work. I’m hyper nervous that some eagle-eye big-brother radar instrument will spot me and I’ll be facing a fine the size of the state of Rhode Island. Which I can nary afford.

Then it dawned on me. That sticker is for my car inspection, not the license. Easy to remedy. Immediately. Tomorrow. Lunch hour, if not sooner.

Guilty as charged, of plain ordinary stupidity.

Provocative

Someone recently reminded me of the definition of insanity: continuing to repeat the same behavior, but expecting different results. I might add to this: and continuing to feel frustration with the same results.

I read an interesting blog post over at The Unbearable Banishment about advertising that features blatantly provocative imagery. While the author did not personally find the imagery appealing, his concern was that the image was front and center on large-scale public display in one of the busiest intersections in Manhattan during the peak of Christmas season. Children might see it.

For how many generations have parents been trying to shield their children from human sexuality, promiscuity, tobacco, drugs, violence, alcohol, deception, cheating, vulgar language, inappropriate behavior…. feel free to add to the list. Is the answer FOREVER?

And what results have we witnessed? Children enter puberty right on schedule, become curious and confused about their interesting new feelings, are exposed to new social challenges, and have all sorts of opportunities to make complex decisions about mature subject matter with their still not-fully-formed brains. The human brain does not fully mature at the age of 18 or 21, actually it takes a bit longer. Surprise.

On the one hand, Unbearable Banishment may have a point. Seriously, how necessary is advertising of this genre? I don’t happen to know the answer, but I’m wondering about the actual financial reward from a big, steamy advertising blitz like this one. Obviously the point is to craft a brand image, steering public opinion about the company in the minds of potential future customers. I suppose there is a measurable reward. Some potential future customers will convert to actual customers when faced with their next product buying opportunity. But really, to what extent is any buying decision driven solely by brand image, and not influenced, perhaps rather heavily by more practical factors like cost, fit, comfort, color, design, convenience, etc.

Well, unless this company hires me or Unbearable Banishment to head up their marketing campaigns, they are unlikely to change their branding strategy anytime soon.

So then that leads us back to the earlier quandary. If provocative imagery in advertising is here to stay in our daily lives (which it is), then how do we coexist peacefully? How do we not fall into the same patterns as former generations of parents, hiding, denying, shaming, condemning? How do parents find the fortitude to address mature subject matter with an immature audience in a way that sets a healthy example? And, beyond finding the fortitude, how, actually does any parent successfully discuss an advanced topic without getting preachy, hyper-emotional, or cynical?

My parents didn’t have the answer. I don’t happen to know any parents who do. I guess that is why we can all relate to this tongue-in-cheek definition of insanity. It hits close to home.

We were meaning to get insurance

The carnival is back in town. I noticed the large trucks unloading collapsed ferris wheels and other whirling twirling equipment at the end of last week in the parking lot of a local shopping center. Today the bright lights are flashing and the dizziness that is the carnival is open for business.

I can’t help but wonder about this business. Obviously it is a traveling amusement park that simply rotates between a half dozen or so local venues. Perhaps it is a larger corporation that manages several, or dozens or even hundreds of these carnival kits.

What kind of employees do they hire? What kind of wages and benefits do they offer? Do they conduct any sort of background investigations on their employees? Does anyone perform a safety inspection and give a green-light approval prior to selling the first ticket on each opening day? Is the carnival insured in the event of an accident? What is their accident track record? How old are the rides and equipment? Does the carnival strictly adhere to a preventive maintenance rigor to keep the equipment in running order?

It would appear that I have a question or two about this business that just shows up, closes down and operates primarily on a cash basis. And I’ll bet I’m not alone. However, I am not a customer. My (hypothetical) children are not riding the whirling twirling carnival rides. But if they were, I would definitely want to know some of these answers.

The frugal consumer: admirable or merely annoying?

While I do not watch television much (honest statement), when I do, it seems that I pay slightly more attention to the commercials than the programming. It might have something to do with my weak attention span…who knows.

I noticed an advertisement by the fast-food empire, McDonald’s, that features a young couple. The male half of the couple is ultra-frugal and over the span of 10 seconds or so he demonstrates to his understanding, but more common-sense wife, that he is contributing to the household economy through his frugal endeavors. One of these endeavors involves a large homemade contraption to squeeze the last droplet of toothpaste out of the tube. The wife, on the other hand, takes frugal matters into her own hands by simply picking up lunch at McDonald’s. Happy ending, fade to jingle.

I have seen the commercial twice and the first time did not realize that it was a McDonald’s commercial because I was so consumed by absorbing the husband’s economical creativity. He is indeed a man after my own heart. I am a frugal person myself. Genetically programmed that way -- thank you very much daddy.

But clearly, this commercial is no-so-gently poking fun at the frugal people of the world as evidenced by its depiction of one of the husband’s “getting-my-money’s-worth” projects gone badly awry.

Now, I can totally relate to getting the last droplet of any product out of its bottle. I realize that I may be setting myself up for ridicule, but this is my true confession. I routinely swish water in the bottom of shampoo bottles to get the last of the shampoo before the bottle goes into the recycling bin. In my estimation, I get 4 additional full lathers. I swish water in the bottom of the laundry detergent bottles to make use of the last of that product, producing one or two basins full of soapy water for my delicate hand wash. I flatten toothpaste tubes with the back of my toothbrush to push the gel all the way to the top and don’t throw away the tube until it is beyond my ability to squeeze. It gives me an extra 5-6 toothpaste squeezes. Getting the last of the skin lotion out of the bottle is somewhat aggravating, but in my experience, there is about 2 weeks worth of product remaining after the first sign that the bottle is “empty” that I can coax out with gravity and a little shaking.

Cristy and I are on opposite poles of this spectrum. Actually, I’m at the extreme end of the spectrum and she’s somewhere in the middle. But she tolerates my frugal behavior, precisely like the understanding wife in the McDonald’s commercial. I wonder if my obsessive attention to economy is as ridiculous as the commercial makes it seem? It’s doubtful that I’ll change anytime soon.

Mean people suck

I don’t like bullies. And by bully, I don’t mean a big kid who is threatening to beat me up if I don’t hand over my math homework. I’m talking about adults with aggressively strong personalities who communicate in a confrontational tone and manner. These people frighten me and they might as well be threatening to beat me up because that’s exactly how I feel when the conversation is over: like I just got knocked down.

I don’t do well in conflict situations to begin with, and I completely lose my ability to function if I am having a conflict with a bully. It happened today. I had this unfortunate encounter with a woman about 10 to 15 years older than I who owns the lighting store where we recently purchased two chandeliers. Cristy and I hired a man who does electrical contracting work on the side to install all of our light fixtures. It is convenient because he works on the weekend and she and I don’t have to take more time off work to meet him at the house.

The new chandeliers are for the foyer and kitchen. Cristy and our installer went to the store to pick up the boxes this morning and he started installing them. Unfortunately, when he took the foyer lantern out of the box, he walked over to tell me that he had some bad news – the chandelier was broken. He showed me where the problem was and we packed it back up so I could return it.

Later, I took the fixture back and immediately felt a chill spread through the room when I suggested that I’d like to exchange it. I waited for a while with my boxed up lantern and then a while longer when they took it to the “back” for their “guy” to inspect it. The bully, I mean, owner, approached me with a stern look on her face and I felt like I was about to get in trouble. She went on the attack immediately: who was my installer, what was his name, what was the name of his company, was he a licensed electrician? I stammered and tried to explain that he was a qualified electrician, but had another full time job. That was all the fuel she needed. He was incompetent! He twisted up all the wires when he tried to install it! It was going to take their “guy” a couple of days to repair the mess!

This didn’t make sense to me. I told her that my installer merely removed it from the box and did not even attempt to install it because he noticed the flaw. Didn’t matter what I said.

I was instructed to return on Monday or Tuesday to pick it up.

Then she walked away.

I walked out to my car feeling scared and ashamed.

The store called Cristy later in the afternoon to say that the repairs were complete and we could pick it up. I don’t feel good about going. I know, I’m such a wimp. I’ll get it another time. When I’m feeling less diminished. Mean people suck.

Second favorite, a dubious distinction

Recently, Cristy and I have become regular customers at our local Lowe’s home improvement store. We have visited most of the sections in the store: plumbing, electrical, home organization, window coverings, paint, lawn and garden, hardware. And during these visits, we have had an opportunity to interact with a variety of Lowes employees. We remember them on our successive trips, and they remember us.

Cristy is easy to remember. When she engages in conversation, she’s one of those people who asks questions about the other person, encouraging them to talk about themselves, their kids, their pets. People like her.

Last week I was in Lowes on a solo trip; I had only a short list of items to purchase. I ran into Michael, one of the sales associates that we adore. He’s friendly, helpful, handsome and likes dogs. Plus, he’s a Houston fireman, a job that carries a fair amount of distinction. Anyone who is willing to run into a burning building to save someone’s life is way more than OK in my book.

I spent a moment or two chatting with Michael about a project. Then he said, almost in passing, that Cristy and I were his second favorite customers.

Second favorite?

I didn’t quite know how to respond. Somehow I was crushed. I told Cristy later. She was appalled. We’re cute. We spend a fair amount of money there. We are there at least 5 timed per week and sometimes twice on Saturday!

Hey Michael, what’s the deal? What do we need to do to get the top spot?

Technophobia rears its head

One of the required tasks on our long list of pre-move activities is setting up our utilities. Cristy and I divided these responsibilities and electricity was on my list. We had off-handedly discussed setting up cable and internet closer to our move-in date, so that was still a couple of weeks off.

After I finished speaking with the excellent representative at Reliant energy, he enticed me to stay on the line while he transferred me to “partner services” with the promise of a discount coupon to Lowes. Well, I’m all about a discount, and goodness knows the list of items we need to purchase from Lowes keeps growing, so that was all he needed to say.

Next thing I know, I’m talking with a nice guy named Kevin with partner services. Still, this phrase that does not yet mean anything to me. Then he explains it. For the convenience of customers moving to another property, Reliant has established partner relationships with a handful of telecommunications service providers. He asks whether we need to transfer a home telephone.

I say no, we don’t have one.

OK, he says. We do represent a couple of cable and internet service providers that serve your area. Will you be needing cable or internet?

Yy-ye-ess. I say slowly, my palms beginning to sweat. Oh no. Is he going to ask difficult questions about high digital definition, ultra broadband super duper networking? Because I am afraid my head might explode.

So I quickly start backpedaling. But look, I say. I’m not the right person with whom you should be having this discussion. I don’t know much about televisions or computers.

That’s ok, he says. I’m kind of an expert.

Do I detect a certain amount of smugness in that remark? I think I do! So I quickly figure out the only way to respond will be to engage an ally. I ask him to hold while I conference Cristy onto the line with us. Fortunately for me, I know how to use the conference call function on my phone. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Thank goodness she’s there. And she can talk. And she is pretty darned interested in having this conversation too – she happens to know a thing or two about both of the vendors that he represents and ever-so-nonchalantly tosses in a jargony term or two.

I am so proud of her I could burst with joy. The blood is rushing through my ears and I can not exactly hear the particulars of their conversation, but I can tell that she is pressing for clarification on a couple of areas of concern, selecting an installation date, and deftly negotiating yet another signing bonus gift. Then it is over.

My heart beat returns to normal. I thank her profusely. She is completely calm, as if nothing frightening has occurred at all. She knows how I feel about technology – it is as if tiny men from Jupiter were descending into the room. She just laughs. I’m so glad I can amuse her, because I love her so.

Meandering mind of the commuter II

We all notice them. Those larger-than-life inflatable objects attached to the roof of the occasional auto dealership or mini-storage warehouse. Colorful animals, fierce wrestlers, the ever-inspired hot-air balloon. Do these giant cartoon signs actually make us notice the business itself or influence, in any way, our consumer buying decisions?

I ponder this thought as I pass the same balloon signs on my commute each day. Particularly because air-loss, over time, in the balloon objects makes them collapse, reducing my level of overall confidence in the relative marketing impact.

My working hypothesis has reached equilibrium around the idea that perhaps this advertising mechanism is a very low cost approach at attracting attention. Perhaps the businesses that have engaged this mechanism subscribe to the theory “any publicity is good publicity.” Seems to work for celebrities, anyway.

Signing the contract

I don’t mean to get off on a rant here, but this particular situation is causing a bit of concern and that concern directly affects my wallet. The home-selling home-buying transaction is driven by a settlement statement that itemizes the transfer of money. The fees itemized are largely understood only by those in the industry. As I browse through this list of numbers, my ignorance of the process makes me unable to determine whether the numbers or accurate or not. But hey, why the concern? These people are professionals, right?

In the past 3 days, I have encountered 2 errors on 2 separate settlement statements. The first error impacted me to the tune of a couple thousand dollars. The title company caught the error just prior to our closing transaction. The second error impacted me by only $250; I caught the error myself. It was one of the few numbers whose meaning I actually understood and I was easily able to determine that it was incorrect. We’re batting 1000 on the incorrect settlement statement preparation average. Doesn’t instill a lot of confidence.

This quality control track record is not exactly wonderful. It gives me pause to consider whether there are other fees charged in my column incorrectly, but just not identified by anyone responsible for double or triple checking? The fact that I don’t buy or sell a house every day makes me nervous enough, but layering on the accounting mistakes I am witnessing in the transaction just magnifies this stress.

For better or worse, it will all be over at 1pm Monday.

Bargain hunter or hoarder?

There is a program on one of the cable networks that exploits, I mean, features the drama around the disorder of hoarding. Cristy has a tiny fascination with this program and I sometimes watch it with her. We have both seen hoarding situations ourselves that were not yet as out-of-control as those featured on the program.

It is sometimes hard to throw things away. When you look at the item, it still appears to be useful, although it may not be candidate for use at the moment. Still, why send something perfectly useful to a landfill? My standby solution to this predicament has always been to carry it out to the edge of my front sidewalk. Generally in 60 minutes or less (sometimes 10 minutes or less), a curious passer-by will stop, examine the item and upon discovering its potential usefulness, carry it home.

It is the same concept as a rummage sale, but there is no work involved on my part.

The popular website, Craigslist, is the 21st century answer to the garage sale. I love Craigslist. I have sold several items and also used the Free Stuff section to find new homes for “specialty” items that would be difficult for a casual passer-by to identify if it was simply placed out in the free-stuff location on my front sidewalk.

It leaves me to ponder whether people who pick up discarded junk, I mean stuff, are hoarders or bargain conscious?

This question applies to me, too. Today, I purchased my first couple of items via Craigslist: two little tables for a guest bedroom, $40. I will need to spray paint them white to give them a crisp finish (they will look so adorable!), but the fact remains that I have enthusiastically joined the legions of people interested in other people’s stuff. And I’m willing to pay money for it.

The experience only serves to whet my appetite for future potential bargains that might be lurking on Craigslist. Am I merely an astute bargain hunter going for the shabby chic decorating look or am I dangerously close to venturing into hoarding territory? Only time will tell.

Hypothesis on consumer behavior

How many opportunities do you have to make a mistake before the mistake adversely affects customer loyalty/retention? My hypothesis is that this number is getting smaller and smaller. Consumers, me included, have a reduced level of tolerance for mistakes, even perceived mistakes. This intolerance is attributable to both an abundant supply (purchase options) and attention to spending (perceived value of goods received).

Example 1: This morning I awoke early to take care of an errand. My morning ritual includes coffee and my coffee of choice is a flavor infused selection. Today, I opened a new package of Seattle’s Best hazelnut cream blend. However, I was disappointed to discover that the coffee was indeed not hazelnut infused at all. It was plain ground coffee. Did I brew it? Yes. Was this coffee substandard in any way? No. Did it taste bad? No. Did it meet my expectations? No, only because I wanted hazelnut instead of regular. Will I purchase Seattle’s Best products again? Maybe not.

What is the logic behind this decision? I am trying to be very objective about this. Coffee is not a luxury item; it is not exceedingly costly. I could go to the grocery store and make another coffee purchase right now if I felt that strongly about having hazelnut coffee on hand. However, my level of confidence in Seattle’s Best has diminished because I know that, at least once, there was a quality control error in their product packaging supply chain. I suspect that by now the quality control error has been remedied, but my overall personal experience with this brand has been affected. There is greater likelihood that the next time I select ground coffee it will be a brand other than Seattle’s Best.

Example 2: About three weeks ago Cristy and I dropped into PF Chang’s for an impromptu dinner on a weekday evening. The restaurant was not full and we were seated promptly. Our overall experience that evening was beyond disappointing. Our young server was impudent, aloof and possibly incompetent. We did not receive all of the food items we requested, even after a repeated request. Even though the food we did receive was excellent, there is almost no chance that we will return to this restaurant. Dining options are simply too plentiful and we would prefer to spend our consumer dollars in an establishment where we have previously received a favorable experience, both in terms of product and service rather than choose to extend another chance to an establishment where our experience was truly abysmal.

Example 3: Over the course of three years, I have established a consumer relationship with Montrose Car Care Center based on two factors – their location and the friendliness and sense of confidence I felt in the former manager’s general automotive knowledge. About 9 months ago, that manager departed. I was told his departure was related to the illness of a family member in another city. This seemed reasonable, so I continued to steer my automotive maintenance service needs to this business. However, after two subsequent misdiagnoses, later remedied at another establishment, my opinion regarding the range of services realistically available from this repair shop has narrowed significantly. I still take my automobile here for an occasional oil change, based solely on its convenient proximity to my office, but it is extremely unlikely that I would consider asking them to diagnose a (future) mechanical problem with my Volvo.

I may or may not be a good model for an average consumer. I do not have enough information to compare my own consumer behavior with the range of customers that purchase Seattle’s Best coffee, dine at PF Chang’s or select Montrose Car Care for automotive repair services. However, if my consumer behavior is representative of the broader population, the conclusion is that there is a direct and correlation between a single negative experience and loss of customer confidence, or worse, complete customer defection.

Novelty in advertising

Over the weekend, I noticed a television commercial by automaker BMW. It was brief, featured a video montage of an automobile creating a painting on a canvas the size of an ice hockey rink, and faded to white with a website address: http://www.expressionofjoy.com.

I have never seen an automobile create a painting of any size and I was intrigued by both the novelty of this campaign as well as the combination of movement and color in the painting itself. The website is equally gratifying, inviting visitors to linger over sections of the painting and explore the implanted video clips, each one providing additional clues to the methods employed in producing this amazing work of art and share in the collective excitement of those directly involved with the art project.

The manner in which my brain is wired causes me to give this campaign far more consideration than perhaps the average television viewer. Is the intent to sell cars to art lovers? I think not. I believe the intent is to engage audience fascination through an innovative multi-media communications concept that is bigger than the brand itself, and consequently, bestow credit to the collaborating partner (BMW) in terms of favorable opinion.

My sincere congratulations to the creative group that assembled the advertising campaign and developed the artistic project concept – I believe it was flawlessly executed. If I was in a position to select an automobile in the BMW competing class, I would definitely be favorably disposed toward BMW.