Musings
I have a six-dollar watch someone bought for me at a pushcart in New York which I wear when I'm doing physical labor (about twice a year). After a couple of years it stopped, so I had the battery replaced, which cost me exactly six dollars. I realized the next day that I could have purchased a new, six-dollar watch.
We talk about a "throw-away" society, but I'm not sure that it's a black and white, good and bad equation. I'm not sure we should discard items that are functional merely for the sake of having a newer one, although the auto industry and the television industry and myriad others would seem to argue otherwise. And I do believe that giving things to others is better than discarding them, so long as they retain a legitimate use.
(I still fall on the floor when I think of the Seinfeld episode in which a homeless shelter indignantly returned muffin bottoms to Seinfeld, who was marketing only muffin tops, and thought to provide the perfectly edible excess to the shelter. "Who do you think we are," challenged the shelter manager, "that you would have us eat muffin bottoms?!")
A problem emerges, however, when we create, in effect, "throw away" relationships. I'm still using the same insurance agent, printer, landscaper, snow plower, travel agent, web designer, and others whom I began working with ten, and sometimes twenty, years ago. I make sure that they continue to be on top of their respective games, of course, but I don't shop around for better prices or nicer offices. (I stopped using my long-time accountant only after I became convinced I was getting poor service and inferior advice.)
There is something to be said for loyalty. I appreciate people who are loyal to me, because it moves me to higher levels to ensure that I earn such trust. They also provide me the benefit of the doubt when I mess up an order, jumble some spelling imaginatively, or get a date wrong.
So if the snow plower doesn't arrive as early as I'd like on occasion, or the printer gets a couple of pages transposed, or the travel agent forgets to insert my frequent flyer number, I neither go ballistic nor search for a new source. I remember all that they've done well and move on.
Too often we seem to proffer our loyalties to objects (take a look in your closet or garage, and those old shirts, boots, and luggage you can't bear to part with) and withhold it from people. We anthropomorphize objects while dehumanizing people. Should I really abandon my travel agent because a web-based outfit can save me 10%, or go with another landscaper because he's $5 less per hour? Those are tiny savings compared with loyalty and the special treatment it usually brings.
I had a $1,500 Ferrari watch once, which I had purchased at an auction for $150, and I really came to love it. But there came a time when I gave it to my son (who, for a rare moment, was speechless) because it was time to move on and I knew it would be in good hands (and still is). But, looking at the weather we're enduring thus far this winter, I'm wondering if I should have given it to the snow plower....
Readers write
Dear Alan,
Re: "to the barricades and being ticked off":
I've coined a phrase regarding this phenomenon. It is that "some people are determined to be offended." I'm sure you have observed it.
For example, these people would rather use a plural noun with a singular verb than observe good grammar because they are offended when the male gender is used to refer collectively to the entire human race. They would rather use politically correct language with ambiguous definitions than attempt to be accurate. I think you can be accurate without being offensive. For example, rightsizing or "transformation" as Donald Rumsfeld prefers to call his present initiative, stills amounts to the same thing: reducing the size of an already stretched US military in the vain hope that better technology will compensate for fewer troops. So-called "rightsizing" anywhere else means laying-off people. To call it anything else ignores the trauma these events have on people. Why can't they just say so instead of trying to hide behind some euphemistic term?
I'm sure you can think of other examples, but I feel better for having shared my experiences with you. -- Bruce Hoag
ONLY READ THIS IF YOU KNOW ME WELL OR YOU'LL BE NEEDLESSSLY TICKED-OFF DEPARTMENT
The following is a verbatim discussion with a Wall Street Journal customer service representative:
Me: My paper has been delivered erratically over the past week.
WSJ: Define "erratically."
Me: Last Thursday it didn't come at all. On Friday and Monday it was delivered only to the other side of the bridge, and the Monday edition was someone else's. Tuesday, I received Thursday's missing issue.
WSJ: What bridge?
Me: The bridge leading to my home.
WSJ: Is it a toll bridge? Is it dangerous to leave papers there?
Me: It's a small bridge I own that accesses my property.
WSJ: Is it safe?
Me: I've driven over it 40,000 times. Fire engines can cross it. 18-wheelers have crossed it.
WSJ: But is it safe?
Me: Yes
WSJ: Okay, then why was someone else standing on it on Monday?
Me: No one was there on Monday.
WSJ: You said, "Someone else had a paper there on Monday."
Me: No, no, the paper belonged to someone else.
WSJ: Do other people use the bridge? Perhaps they are taking your paper.
Me: The paper has always been delivered to my door.
WSJ: Well, is the bridge new?
Me: NO!!!
WSJ: Sir, there is no need to become angry. We will credit you with a full week's extension on your subscription. Is that satisfactory?
Me: Yes, okay.
WSJ: Please be advised that we can't guarantee future deliveries until you get the bridge fixed.