I’ve followed the cell phone use while driving ban discussion and I confess a certain bias, as I’m not a fan of mobile phones or even static phones for that matter. I probably inherited this from my mother, who hated talking on the phone. In fact, we were without a phone entirely for about three blissfully quiet years in my youth. Yes, it was significantly more difficult to get in touch with us. No, that was not a bad thing.
I have a cell phone now. I enjoy the convenience, but I don’t understand how it became a necessity. I recall an ex-girlfriend of mine who would always answer her cell phone when it rang — no matter what else she was doing. Watching a movie, reading a book, eating a meal, driving a car, cheating on me — if it rang, she answered. I pointed out that prior to cell phones, if someone tried to reach us during those moments, the call would usually go to voice mail or to an answering machine and we’d call them back later. Rarely, did we miss a brief window to receive an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii or to say goodbye to our dying aunt in Hawaii (in which case the prevous all-expenses paid trip would have come in handy). Yet, now we will instantly stop what we’re doing to answer the ringing cell phone.
Perhaps it’s human nature to make convenience mandatory. Prior to answering machines, if you were expecting an important call, you had to stay at home, close to the phone. Once answering machines came along, we started screening calls, which helped us to avoid telemarketers and nosy neighbors.
Call-waiting allowed us to avoid getting a busy signal if we’re calling someone who’s already on the phone. However, that eventually led to someone clicking over to the incoming call every five seconds: “What? Your call broke down on a road and there’s a guy with a hook coming toward you? Wait… sorry, I have another call.”
It occurs to me that these conveniences led to a lack of courtesy. Call waiting is the equivalent of trying to have a conversation with someone and being constantly interrupted. Worse, the person you’re talking to actually brushes you off to speak with the other person.
My issue with cell phones probably stems from the fact that I’m not much of a multi-tasker. If I’m listening to music, I am listening to music. It does not serve as background. If I’m reading a book, I am focused on the book. If I’m watching TV, don’t dare come between me and “The Avengers.”
Cell phones and cars also manage to combine my two least favorite things into a Reese’s Peanut Butter cup of frustration. My fear of a head-on collision is exacerbated by the knowledge that my fellow drivers are updating their Facebook statuses while behind the wheel. Last words have gotten far less profound in our Facebook and Twitter world. We’ve gone from “More light!” (Goethe) to “Gym was crowded today. Waited 20 minutes for elliptical.” In retrospect, maybe the Facebook post was more elucidating than Goethe.
I know some people believe banning cell phone use while driving is excessive legislation, just like seat belts laws (it’s fun for kids to bounce around the car; it also tires them out) and the requirement that vehicles have a sealed floor (Flintstone locomotion is more fuel efficient than the best hybrid).
However, if on your next flight, you discovered that the pilot was eating McDonald’s take-out, listening to Kool & the Gang with the bass thumping, and talking on her cell, you’d be horrified. But she’s at least a professional pilot. The kid doing the same thing at 70 miles per hour on the freeway just got his license last week. He’s hardly as accomplished as the drivers in “Ronin.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpNj0bg06eQ&feature=youtube_gdata_player
Things might have changed since I received my license 20 years ago, but I was not allowed to eat food, have the radio on, or send telegrams to my friends during the road test. If it’s expected that people are going to drive with countless distractions, it seems reasonable that those distractions are present during the test. If you can still pass, fine, you are awarded with a license to drive and be annoying.
serhasacomplaint 
Not the Best Buy…
By way of Mark Evanier’s site, I came upon this Forbes piece regarding the eventual collapse of retailer Best Buy. The story is not news to anyone — brick and mortar stores can’t compete with online when they long ago eliminated any value they had to offer from reasonably paid mammals who knew something about electronics. Corporations chose to downsize the geese that sell the golden eggs.
However, I shall tell a positive story if not about Best Buy but one of its employees. I recently purchased a new laptop, which involved my venturing to the Best Buy closest to me. I settled on a model that was not in stock. I was then told that a Best Buy further away from me might have it. I’m never a fan of “might” but I’m an unemployed writer, so what else do I have to do with my time? I arrive at the other Best Buy, where I learn from a salesman who is intent on informing me that he’s somehow affiliated with Microsoft that someone just purchased the last model that was in stock. He continued to go on about the odds of the store selling out of the laptop I wanted while I was on my way to the store. It mattered very little to me if the odds were a million to one or one to one, I still did not have the laptop.
Another clerk called a Best Buy even further from me. They had plenty of the laptops I wanted in stock. They would not ship it to a store close to me, though, for reasons that were unclear. This is when I asked a critical question. Best Buy’s Geek Squad offers a service where it removes a lot of the garbage that comes pre-installed on your computer. The process takes about three hours, I was told. However, some of the computers already have this done so you can avoid the wait.
“Can you please confirm that this Best Buy location has a laptop with the Geek Squad service already performed? If so, I’ll pick it up today. If not, I’ll go by tomorrow.”
“Oh, 40% of the stock usually has it done and since it costs more, it’s likely they’ll have one ready.”
There are certain things in life you can’t confirm: The existence of extraterrestrial life, what happens after death or when you move to the suburbs, but whether a specific laptop is in stock is something you can confirm with a phone call.
“Before I purchase the laptop here, can you please confirm that one is in stock with the Geek Squad service already done? Thank you.”
The clerk goes away and returns shortly to tell me that the item I want is at the other Best Buy and ready for pick-up. I purchase the laptop, declining the extended warranty, family plan, commemorative Civil War plates and whatever other crap they try to sell you. I then go to the other Best Buy. The young woman who greets me at the store pick-up desk acts as if it’s her first day — not at Best Buy but on Earth. Imagine a mad scientist creating her in a lab, rejecting her because his assistant goofed and provided an abnormal brain, and dropping her off at the nearest Best Buy to begin a career in retail.
She examines my store receipt, asks multiple questions that only serve to confuse her more, and then finally retrieves my laptop, which she places in front of me.
One of many things I learned from my mother is to double check every aspect of my order before leaving the store. When we’d go to Kentucky Fried Chicken (it was still Kentucky Fried Chicken back then), my mother would stoically open every box and examine the contents to ensure she wasn’t stuck with extra crispy or dark meat. She was an original recipe, white meat lady. I would think, “See, this is what she thinks of you. She had you repeat the order to her when she placed it. You even confirmed it with her when you handed over the boxes, but she’s going through it again right in front of you because she knows you’re a fool. Oh, and she’s right. That’s an extra crispy drumstick next to the mashed potatoes.”
I asked the young woman if the Geek Squad had already wiped the computer of the offending software, as I’d requested and paid for.
“No, this computer doesn’t have that, but if one of our guys is free, he can have it done in about two to three hours.”
It makes no sense to me that Best Buy bothers telling people that the Geek Squad service takes four hours (if they say two to three, it’s really four) to complete. What am I supposed to do at Best Buy for that long? It’s not like they have one of Quark’s holosuites in the back.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LiygqsDMfo&feature=youtube_gdata_player
“That’s unacceptable,” I said. “Your colleague at the other Best Buy claimed that he’d confirmed that the there was a laptop waiting here that already had the Geek Squad service performed on it. That’s the whole reason I came here this afternoon.”
“Yeah,” she replied, offering no explanation. “It’s the only one we have.”
“I’m not staying here for three hours nor I am making a return trip cross town. Could someone bring the computer, once it’s ready, to the Best Buy where I paid for it?”
“Yeah, we don’t do that.”
“I realize you don’t normally but this was your error.”
“You can come back for it tomorrow if you’d like.”
I chose not to thank her for allowing me to pick up something I’d already purchased at a later date.
“I’m not going to do that. I’d like the laptop sent to the more convenient location or I’d like a refund.”
“I can give you a refund.”
At this point, I asked to speak to a manager, so it could be explained to me why they would prefer to lose money instead of simply rectifying their mistake.
When the young woman went for the manager, I expected very little. Why would they care? They had no stake in the sale. The manager would most likely offer some more shuck and jive before giving me a refund.
Instead the manager, also a young woman, politely introduced herself to me, apologized for the confusion, and said she’d personally deliver the laptop the the Best Buy that was actually in my zip code.
This was professionally handled but definitely not the norm. The manager was courteous and made no attempt to blame me or her colleagues at the other stores for the problem. She just focused on making it right.
The next day, as promised, my laptop was at the Best Buy location where I paid for it. I thanked the manager, who was still at the store, on my way out. She deserves better than Best Buy, and I hope she finds it when Best Buy stores start to close. Having worked in corporate America for a while, it would not surprise me if she were among the first fired and the clueless salesclerk temporarily promoted into her position simply because she’d be cheaper. Cheaper keeps the costs down, but it eventually closes the stores.
Posted by Stephen Robinson on January 6, 2012 in Capitalism, Social Commentary
Tags: Best Buy, Forbes, Larry Downes, Mark Evanier