My current stove is electric, 15 years old and long due for a replacement. I’ve been meaning to upgrade it, to gas or dual fuel, from the second I bought my home, more than a year ago. I finally made the jump: when I got my toilets replaced a few days ago, I had a gas line installed, then, after a bunch of research, went to Sears to buy my new range.

The buying experience was fine: since I’d done most of my research online (Consumer Reports, etc.), I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted, and had narrowed it down to two options (a GE Profile and a Kenmore Elite, in stainless steel, of course). I chose Sears because they had both choices in stock at a reasonable price. When I went in, the sales guys were helpful in answering my few remaining questions, and they matched a 10% off coupon I had if I’d bought online, and then offered an additional 10% off for putting it on a Sears card.

The problems started with the first call from Sears delivery services. The call indicated the range they were delivering had “minor scratches and marks”, they would be unlikely to be noticed when the range was installed, but they’d deliver it and let me make the call on keeping it, returning it or getting a discount of some type.

Today, delivery day, I received six calls in a row from the same number (while I was in a meeting); I finally succumbed and answered the call; it was the delivery guy saying he was at my house (90 minutes earlier than the earliest scheduled time; since when do deliveries happen early?) and that the scratches were more than just “minor”. Since I couldn’t make it there any earlier than the original scheduled time, they sat around waiting for me.

When I got home, I took a look at the range while it sat on the trunk. It took all of 15 seconds to know that I wasn’t going to accept delivery. There were dozens of scratch marks on the top rear of the range, another couple of scratches across the face of the (stainless steel) control panel, and another gouge on the bottom kick-plate. Plus, a piece of the side casing was coming loose.

The range was clearly not an acceptable delivery, and the delivery guys seemed to know that was coming. It was so bad, the only way I would have accepted delivery was if I had bought it used at a significant discount. I can’t even begin to understand why a range in this kind of shape was even sold as new and sent out for delivery.

I called Sears Delivery to deal with it. That’s when I entered Customer Service Hell.

First, I tried calling the deliver number on my receipt. I was only allowed to confirm that a delivery was scheduled for today, with no option to speak to a customer service representative. I called four times, trying each option, and eventually managed to navigate to an actual person.

Over the next 30 minutes, I was transferred to five or six different “specialists”, asked the same questions (my “phone”, “address”, “name”) five or six times, each time being told they weren’t the right group to speak with, as they weren’t the “right” specialist. I had delivery specialists, damage specialists and stock availability specialists; the only specialist I didn’t seem to find was “solve my problem” specialists. I eventually had to put a stop to the transfers and demand a supervisor.

I was so frustrated, I was ready to cancel my order. In fact, the only reason I didn’t do so was that I had gotten the discounts I mentioned (an anticipated 20%), and that other places didn’t have the item in stock for immediate delivery.

The supervisor, at least, was somewhat helpful. She took my information, checked the availability of my range, checked the delivery availability, and scheduled that delivery.

When I asked that my delivery charge be waived, she offered to send me a $50 gift card for Sears. I, of course, balked at that: it was less than the delivery charge, and, of course, gift card only helps them, not me: they keep the money either way.

Of course, she “couldn’t” refund the fee to my credit card (she “didn’t have access to that”), but eventually offered to send me a check for the full delivery charge.

I’m still leery of the upcoming delivery. They ship the product from some central warehouse to the delivery warehouse the evening before delivery, so until they inspect it at that delivery warehouse, they don’t know what shape the product will be in. This, of course, disturbs me, since it is highly likely I will have to go through this all over again in a couple of days.

By the end of the series of calls to Sears, I was ready to scream and swear off Sears forever. I’m still waiting to see what happens during the forthcoming delivery, and to find out if they’re willing to do more than waive my delivery fee.

Technorati Tags: bad customer service, sears

It’s been quite a while since a video game caused me to lose time. Because I’m not much of a video game guy, I don’t tend to get sucked into a game very often. The last time I can remember it happening was Diablo, some seven, eight years ago. Back then, I would regularly stay up until 2, 3, even 4AM, slashing my way through dungeon after dungeon, gaining experience points and doing everything I could to level up.

I think a new obsession may be forming: The Legend of Zelda for Nintendo Wii, or, as I’ll be calling it, video game crack. Tonight, I played for the first time since I got the game. I was having a great time exploring the first couple of levels, going through the “training” missions. I started to get curious about the time, as it was starting to feel late, and I figured I should probably go online, as I hadn’t been on since I got home about 7:30 or 8pm.

It was 2:30am.

I’d been playing for some four and a half hours, never once feeling like I was tired.

Turns out my cellphone had been chiming because I’d received a message. It was Y, telling me good night. It was sent around 11:30pm. I didn’t hear when it rang the first time, and I’d somehow missed the subsequent beeps (every minute or two for three hours).

Yeah, I think I’m in a bit of trouble….

As promised, a few photos of the Nintendo Wii being unboxed.

The form factor of this machine is eerily similar to a device Apple might make, so much so that the device actually looks like its missing the Apple logo; take a look at this photo; you’ll see what I mean.

I spent several hours last night playing the various sports games (I still haven’t fired up Legend of Zelda yet), and exploring the system. It’s still as much fun as it was the first time I played. I fervently hope game developers start taking advantage of the unique opportunities here, from the controllers to the wireless internet connection to the community-building possibilities.

One area I enjoyed for several more minutes than was warranted was the Wii weather channel. It has a globe showing the temperature of hundreds of cities around the world. You can “grab” the globe and spin it, and when you release it, it will continue its momentum, spinning for a little like a real-life globe. Plus, you can adjust from an overhead view to a near-parallel view and do fly-overs.

(Interesting tidbit about the Wii weather channel: THW told me that with the new Madden Football game for Wii, it will use your local weather situation to change the conditions in the game. If it’s snowing and night-time for you outside, it will be snowing and night-time in the game. That’s way cool, and an example of using the system right.)

I’m looking forward to exploring some more, and I can’t wait to get my hands on some new games.

P.S. For the story on how I managed to get a Wii, see my two earlier entries:

• A Wii bit of madness
• THW comes through, Wii is in the hizz-ouse!

Technorati Tags: gaming, Nintendo, photos, unboxing, Wii

In 1984, my mom woke me up early Christmas morning. Sitting next to my bed was the unopened box of an Apple //c computer and monitor. My uncle owned one of those, and I’d spent time at his house hacking with it. He’d once promised he’d bring it over to my house so I could have more time with it. Even in my sleepy state, when I saw the box, my initial shot of excitement was quickly replaced with cold logic: “what’s my uncle’s computer doing here?” I asked.

I was told nope, it’s not your uncle’s, it’s yours, and it’s your Christmas gift.

I believe the ceiling still has an imprint of my head, and the floor a dent from my jaw, as I reacted joyously to the extremely unexpected present.

Today, THW sent me an email.

In today? What time can I stop by to say hi? I’m leaving… tomorrow and won’t be back until just before New Years. /thw

Stop on by, I told him. I figured we’d BS for a few minutes, catch up on what’s been going on the last couple of days, chat about plans for the holiday break we’re about to start. You know, typical friend stuff before you don’t see each other for two weeks or so.

In he walks. We chat about two minutes before he steps back outside my office, and I hear some rustling of plastic. He steps back in and hands me a white box with “Wii” written on it in huge letters.

Let me go through my thought process here.

1. On seeing it: Fucker! You got a me a gift and put it in a Wii box? That’s cold.
2. On holding it: It’s heavy…. Oh! You’re loaning me your Wii for the week you’ll be away. That’s fucking sweet. What a good friend.

I thanked him for loaning it to me, and he says, nope, that’s yours. That’s your Christmas gift.

Boggle.

I couldn’t quite get my mind around it. You’re giving me your Wii?

No, he says (silently adding “you idiot“, I imagine), it’s yours.

Through a series of circumstances, he had an extra one. When he read my entry about waking up at 5:30 to stand in line, and coming back empty-handed, he made his decision: as his Christmas gift to me, he would sell me his extra Wii. I guess he decided that getting up that early to buy one was a worthy endeavor, and instead of making beaucoup bucks scalping it on eBay (as he rightly could), he decided to sell it to me.

Wow.

Last Saturday, when Y and I had decided to wake up early the next day, I called E, and offered him the chance to buy a Wii, should we find ourselves lucky enough to find two. He declined, but was touched that I would give up a potential financial benefit for him. I didn’t quite understand it at the time. He’s my friend, and of course if I’m buying a Wii I’ll pick up a second one for him. It didn’t even cross my mind that I’d pick up a second one and sell it on eBay.

Now, I get it. What THW did was a selfless act. Not in the same realm of giving up a kidney or the last taco, but still remarkable. He passed up the chance to make money so his friend could have a Wii-filled vacation. I was actually tearing up a bit when he gave it to me.

This is going to become a story of legend, destined to be told over and over. Anytime someone asks how I got a Wii, or wonders if I enjoy playing, I’ll be telling this story.

Thanks, THW. You’re a good friend.

By-the-way, I did an unboxing of the Wii. Stay tuned for pictures.

I’m a naturally paranoid person. I always check for the closed security lock in my browser window. I never click on email links to unsubscribe. After John Gruber talked at length on the hazards of Input Managers¹, I keep an eye out for them, and remove them whenever I notice they’re installed.

Recently I purchased a new MacBook (black), and I’ve been slowly moving stuff over from my old machine. As is my habit, I move files and applications over as I need them, so my machine remains as clutter-free as possible for as long as possible. (It’s never very long.)

One evening, as I was poking around, I came across the file “CPNotebook” in my ~/Library/InputManagers folder. Somehow, I’d managed to miss it (so much for my paranoia). More curious than concerned, I decided to search it out online. I surprisingly didn’t get as many hits as I’d hoped for, but it quickly became clear that it was from Circus Ponies Notebook, an application the developers describe as “powerful outlining and organizing for your ideas!” and which I’d installed a while back when comparing various note-takers (NoteTaker, VoodooPad and my current choice Journler were the others).

Since I couldn’t find anything definitive on what CPNotbook did, I wrote to the developer:

Hi there, can you tell what this input manager does, what functionality does it provides?

Two days later, the developer, Jayson Adams, writes me back, explaining in a two sentence response that the input manager provides some of Circus Ponies Notebook’s “magical features”. He says he can’t go into details but that “it’s not harmful to remove it”, should I choose to do so.

Hm. “Magical features”, huh? I’m not big on responses meant to deflect from the question, so about a week later, followed up:

Thanks Jayson, that’s good to know. I’m wondering what it does do, though, since I’d like to know if I want to leave it in. I haven’t been able to find any discussion of what it provides, or what I’d lose if I didn’t have it.

“Magical features” bothers my programmer’s brain.

Three hours later (can’t say he doesn’t respond to email quickly!), Jayson responds with “I can say that it’s not *black* magic :-).”

Cute.

Useless, but cute.

At this point, I have the sense the developer is hiding something. I don’t know what, but my spidey-sense is tingling. I’m also ticked off, because I feel I’m being patronized. When a customer asks a direct question, he should expect a direct answer. Playing around with the responses, and being cute, are not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for reassurance that the Input Manager the application installed (without asking, by the way), isn’t collecting every keystroke I type in any application and sending it back to Circus Ponies. After two messages from Circus Ponies, I still have no clue what the CPNotebook Input Manager actually does.

If Circus Ponies really cared about their users, they’d give a straight answer to a very clear and direct question: What does CPNotbook do? But, since I can’t seem to get a straight answer, I’ll just delete Circus Ponies Notebook and its Input Manager.

If you currently are using Circus Ponies NoteBook, I strongly recommend you likewise delete the CPMaager from your system until they come out with a definitive statement on what it does. (You can find it in [your home folder]/Library/InputManagers.)If you choose to look at replacements, and want to try one of the other note takers on the market, as I mentione at the top, I’m currently partial to Journler (donationware, and my donation will be forthcoming), but have also enjoyed VoodooPad.

Let me close by stating something I hope is clear, but it never hurts to spell it out: I am in no way suggesting that Circus Ponies’ CPNotebook Input Manager does anything malicious or untoward. It may just make the application run 1,000 times faster than without it, or make me waffles in the morning, but that’s not the point here. I just want to know what software installed on my machine does, especially since it affects all my other applications too.

That request seems reasonable to me.

1. I’m linking to John’s two articles on Input Managers from a footnote rather than inline because it’s cool when he does footnotes. ↩

It’s 5:30 on a Sunday morning, and I’m about to go stand in line for a Nintendo Wii. What am I, crazy?

More when we return….

Update: We have returned from our Wii excursion, and other than memories of long lines and cold people, we are empty-handed. We visited ten locations (which includes repeat visits to one), and each store had a line longer than we could have imagined.

In order, we visited a Circuit City, Best Buy, Game Stop, Toys R Us, Target (Oakridge Mall), Target (on Camden), back to the Target Oakridge, which turned into the line for the Game Stop, then over to Westgame Mall Target and the Game Stop next to it.

The worse one was the Westgate Mall Target, off Saratoga. We happened to be there last night about 8pm, and three families had already lined up (one at 6pm) for an 8am store opening. When we returned this morning, about 7am, the line was over 100 people, for a store claiming 100 units.

While we are Wii-less, we do have a Wii-mote and the Legend of Zelda game, as one of the Targets happened to have a couple in stock, and no other stores did. We don’t have a nunchuck attachment, though, so if (when!) we get a Wii, there won’t be any dual boxing going on.

Y is a little disappointed by the lack of Wii; she’s second-guessing her decisions to wake up at 5:30, to go to certain stores in certain order, etc. For me, it was more of an experiment. It was interesting to see which stores had longer lines, how many people were willing to brave the cold (37 degrees, by my car’s gauge) for a game system.

I’m willing to wait until the excitement subsides a bit.

Peter Boyle has died.

If you’re old enough (or just like great classic comedies), you know him as the lovably scary Frankenstein Monster from Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein. If you’re not, you probably know him as the lovably grouchy dad from Everybody Loves Raymond.

If you’ve never seen Young Frankenstein, rent it from NetFlix or the library. It’s absolutely hilarious. Boyle’s rendition of Putting on the Ritz while dancing in a tuxedo is a classic bit of comedy. I still find myself, twenty-plus years later, wailing “puhhin on the riiiz!” in a unintelligible roar.

If you were an X-Files fan, you may also remember him from the episode “Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose”, where Boyle plays the title character, a psychic who doesn’t want to be a psychic. It’s one of the great X-Files episodes, and much of that is because Boyle can portray pathos better than just about anyone: you really do feel bad for what he has to go through.

Rest In Peace, Peter.

The Porsches are sexy cars, and I’d very much enjoy driving one. Preferably a convertible, but I’d settle for a coupe. Unfortunately, the Porsches sell for about $50,000 and up. Way up.

So when American Express announced that they’d be selling three Porsche Caymans coupes for one-tenth their normal retail price, I sat up and took notice. It’s part of their annual “My Wishlist” promotion, where they sell in-demand items at significant discounts. I really, really wanted that Porsche.

The way the promotion works is each day at a specific time, one item is available for sale in (severely) limited quantities. The Porsche, for example, had three cars available, one each for 9am, Noon and 4pm (Pacific timezone). At the appointed time, you click a button and (if the server isn’t completely swamped by millions of other Amex users trying to get a great deal), you’re asked to enter a code, and, assuming someone hasn’t done that ahead of you, you’re then offered a chance to purchase the item on the spot. If you don’t buy it in time, you lose and the next lucky person to get in gets the shot.

And so I found myself Monday morning at 8:59am, in my office, three computers surrounding me, furiously clicking away on the “I Want It/Try Again” button only to be constantly frustrated by the cheery “It’s almost time!” response.

Then suddenly it happened!

One of the computers didn’t have an “It’s almost time!” screen. No, this was different. This was asking me to enter a code! Could it be? Could I really be that lucky? I started entering the code, pounding furiously at the keyboard.

Nothing.

Nothing was showing up on my screen.

I grabbed the trackball and slung the cursor into the text box, but wait, there was no cursor.

Aaarrgh! My keyboard and mouse weren’t working! I rushed to unplug and replug the devices, then entered the letters and numbers as quickly as I could, all the time cursing my luck.

“Sorry. This item is in another member’s cart. But don’t give up!”

Crushed!

I sat there dejectedly for a moment. “So close!” Then I realized it said “don’t give up”. Hm? And then I saw the “Try Again” button was still there. I clicked again, and… got another code entry form! Quickly I typed in the series, mumbling them to myself as I did. “j x v 9 7 t return”.

“Sorry. This item is in another member’s cart. But don’t give up!”

Noooo!

Again I clicked. Again I got a form. Again I typed and mumbled. “6 6 g t y 4 return”. Again “Sorry”.

I was swinging back and forth among three computers, repeating this click-type-click-type game.

“Sorry. This item is in another member’s cart. But don’t give up!”

Fifteen minutes I did this, until finally, relievedly, it ended.

You missed it!

It was over. I stopped clicking, and calmed down from the rush of trying to purchase a $50,000 car for $5,000. In a way, I’m glad I didn’t get in. After all, I’d then have to pay $5,000, plus taxes on $50,000 (over $4,000 for state and local, plus title and destination). And then get insurance for a $50,000 sports car. And fill it up with premium gas. And take it to a Porsche dealership for tuneups and repairs. And pay traffic tickets for speeding or simply DWB in a Porsche.

Yup, I got lucky. All that money and hassle saved.

So why in the world did I try again at Noon and 4pm? Sigh.

I must implore you: Don’t buy a Nintendo Wii.

As you’ve no doubt heard, both Sony and Nintendo have new gaming systems this gift-giving holiday season, Sony with its sequentially named Playstation 3, and Nintendo with its oddly named Wii.

When I younger, with more dexterity, I loved playing video games. I owned a Playstation and SuperNES; I now own a PS2 and Nintendo GameCube. But I don’t play anywhere near as much as I used to, so the thought of buying a new video gaming system didn’t catch my fancy. Especially one that costs $600 (PS3) or was a minor advance graphically (Wii).

My friend THW, though, is an avid gamer, to the point where he stood in line to buy a Wii. Me being the curious sort, and he being the generous sort, he brought his Wii over to share with Y and my friend E.

First, the box itself is very pretty; it’s Mac-like in its design: elegant and minimalist. While it would look slightly out-of-place next to my mostly-black entertainment center components, it would also stand out. A wise move on Nintendo’s part, I warrant.

After THW unpacked and setup the Wii, the afternoon started with each player creating a Mii; that’s an online avatar that represents you in the game world. You’re offered a choice of body type, hair, eyes, eyelashes, glasses, even moles (in case you’re Cindy Crawford?).

Now, there’s no rule that says you have to make it look like you, but I somehow felt I should, as did most of the others. While the end result wouldn’t cause most people to say “damn, that looks just like you!”, it was close enough that it gave more than a passing appearance. It’s all about the details. For THW, it was the big afro. For me, the goatee and mustache.

As I was creating my Mii, I marveled at how natural it felt to use the Wii-mote (that is, the wireless Wii remote controller). I was slouched back on my couch, pointing the Wii-mote at the TV, and with small movements of my wrist, was able to move the on-screen pointer quite easily. The Wii-mote provided some subtle feedback from the speaker and rumble pack built into it. I would go as far as suggesting that using the Wii-mote for making on-screen selections was, well, downright fun. TiVo and Apple should release a similar device (or make Nintendo’s work with their systems) for controlling menus on your TV. (Front Row on the iTV would be especially fantastic.)

And now the games.

Ah, the games. Wii comes bundled with a sports pack: Bowling, Tennis, Boxing, Golf and Baseball. You use the Wii-motes as you would use the appropriate sports implement: with Bowling, you pull your arm back and roll it forward as if you were releasing a bowling ball; with Tennis, you swing as if you had a racquet; with Boxing, you hold them in your fists and punch; etc.

Of course, these are video games, and you would expect that you’d be sitting on your couch, waving these Wii-motes around and jamming buttons, but no: we found ourselves getting into the physical motions of playing the games. We’d swing the Wii-mote like we really had a tennis racquet in our hands, even though a sharp wrist flick would be enough. Or we’d deliver huge roundhouse punches in Boxing, even though fast jabs would get the job done.

Both E and Y were especially interesting to watch. E really got into Tennis; he was leaping back and forth across the floor, reaching for the balls as they whizzed past him. Y took Boxing to heart, punching and jabbing like her life depended on it, and working up a sweat.

In fact, that would be the hallmark of the Wii afternoon: by the end of the day, all four of us had gotten some amount of physical activity we would not have gotten if we were playing any other video game. That’s right, a workout. E, Y and I all “boxed” for 15 or 20 minutes, and by the end of it, not only had we started sweating, we actually felt pain in our shoulders and arms!

From a video game!

I’m telling you, the Wii is going to lead to a generation of kids who’ll be in great shape, but suffer from lack of sun. They’ll be fit and pasty.

So again, I must beg of you: don’t but a Wii. If this post tempted you, resist. If you find yourself in a Toys ‘R’ Us or Wal-Mart, and you see that gleaming white rectangle sitting on the shelf, you don’t want it.

But do me a favor will you? Hold on to it and give me a call, OK?

(For another perspective on the first-time Wii experience, see Y’s blog at A Small Glimpse of My Life.)

Technorati Tags: fit and pasty, Nintendo, Wii

FilmCritic posted its top 10 movie spaceships, and somehow manages to leave out Serenity, the Firefly-class spaceship from the Joss Whedon movie. How do you talk about the top 10 movie spaceships and leave out Serenity? It’s one of the sexiest, coolest-flying ships out there.

Plus, I’ve never heard of a few of the ships they did mention, so I was a little put-off. I hate feeling uncool.