Posts Tagged ‘loyalty’
Corporate Contrast
While attempting to make some really delicious pumpkin fudge last week, Cyndie was aghast to discover that the weight of Nestle white chocolate chips did not equal the 12 ounces marked on the package. After pouring out two packets and placing them on the scale, she was 4 ounces short of the required amount for her recipe.
That just wouldn’t do.
It is rare that I see my lovely wife get particularly worked up over relatively minor issues, but this fall fudge recipe is not one to be careless with when it comes to portions. With an uncharacteristic furor, Cyndie fussed and fumed over the need to interrupt her baking for a trip to the nearest grocery store to get more white chocolate chips.
Next thing I know, I hear her talking to someone. She had called Nestle Customer Service to lodge a complaint!
This was getting serious. First, they told her that 10 oz. is the size they package. That didn’t fit any logic for a package clearly labeled 12 oz. Then they admonished her when she admitted the package had a “best by” date of September. She was given the option of receiving some coupons in the mail in compensation for her suffering.
The two new 12 oz. packages she purchased to finish making the fudge weighed in at 10 oz. and 11 oz.
Who knew a corporation might play fast and loose with rules?
Contrast Cyndie’s customer service experience with mine as I sought assistance from The North Face for my beloved Rock 22 tent.
I bought it so long ago that I can’t remember how old it is now, but I’d guess it’s been 10-15 years. The elastic cord in the tent poles wore out years ago and some of the fittings where the sections connect started sliding down into the tube. I shipped the two poles to The North Face warranty department and swiftly received a brand new pair of poles in replacement.
This past summer I survived two major thunderstorms inside that tent and my two-year-old patch of waterproof tape held up fine on the rainfly. Unfortunately though, one clip and a large length of seam sealing tape delaminated to an extent beyond my ability to salvage.
I figured it was time to buy a new tent but decided there was enough life left in the rest of the old Rock 22 to see if The North Face might be able to help me out. In a phone call with a real person in Customer Service, I was informed I could drop off my flysheet at their store in the Mall of America and they would send it to the warranty department in Texas for analysis.
Yesterday, Fed Ex delivered a brand new replacement rain fly for a tent that is so old it is no longer being made. No questions asked.
I rarely like to boast of fanatic loyalty to a corporation for its products but I will be hard pressed to ever feel The North Face is not worthy of whatever price they charge for their tents.
Whatever they cost, I suspect the Nestle white chocolate chips are overpriced.
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Work Ethic
Our dog, Delilah, is a consummate shepherd with a profound protective instinct for her primary caregiver, Cyndie. She also demonstrates a boundless work ethic. Delilah is a Belgian Tervuren Shepherd we brought home as a 9-month-old pup from a breeder about an hour away from our new home almost eight years ago.
I was thinking it would be nice to have a canine companion to hang out with us on our 20-acre property. Turned out, Delilah isn’t really one to “hang out.”
Yesterday, we were all out on the deck enjoying the warm sunshine. There were squirrels, songbirds, and fresh spring aromas in the breeze. Plenty to entertain our senses. When Cyndie stepped inside to do some meal prep in the kitchen, she left Delilah out with me to allow more time in the great outdoors.
As I worked on shaping my latest wood sculpture, I waited for Delilah to figure out that Cyndie wasn’t coming right back outside. I was hoping she would sense that I wasn’t going anywhere and we could both settle down and enjoy the beautiful, warm, fresh air the day was providing.
Minutes passed. Fifteen more. I sanded and sanded. Adjusted my glasses. Sanded some more. Another fifteen minutes and Delilah had not wavered.
It may have been a combination of the ubiquitous canine food-motivation and Delilah’s passionate devotion to Cyndie that kept her at a constant vigil of staring into the house the entire time, but it was girded with a heroic work ethic intensity that underlies everything she does.
Whether it is alerting us to the presence (permanent presence, mind you) of squirrels in the yard, barking back to the neighboring dogs’ calls, or seeking to warn off the potential threat of distant gunshots or rumbling thunder, Delilah is ALWAYS on duty. She will jump up from a sound sleep to race to the door and bark at something that only her ears picked up.
It occurred to me that we should have taught her a command to give her permission to be “off-duty.” Something along the lines of “at-ease, soldier.”
“We need to tell her to ‘Golden Retriever’ every once in a while,” I said, imagining her gaining the skill of becoming easy-going upon request.
That’d be like telling water not to be so wet.
Come to think of it, it would also be like telling Cyndie not to work such long hours every day.
Hmmm. Maybe there’s a correlation here.
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Relative Something 