Now & Then

The Canal Up Close and Friendly in January

2012-01-08T16:11:00.000-08:00

As we were leaving yesterday, the full
moon and the setting sun eyed one another
across the length of the canal.

Sometimes my husband and I pretend that the canal belongs to us; so much of our story has taken place on, around and along its shores. Even BH (before husband) a good chunk of my life was spent in the environs of the Canal at Scusset beach while my dad chased the ever elusive striper or camping at Scenic Park with it's tidal salt water pool and acres of tent sites. As a young adult my friends and I would scamper down the rocks and shine our flashlights into the water to watch the lobsters come up to the surface. I know some of the kids "jacked" the "bugs" while others kept a lookout. We didn't. We were terrified of those claws! Life moved on and for a few glorious years I lived in Bourne and taught school there. My

then boyfriend and now husband would trudge in via Greyhound from New York to the Buzzards Bay Station every Friday night. Before sunup on Saturday we were launching his boat and fishing the mouth of the canal for squeateague and the flats for fluke from April until November. We never actually boated beyond the Maritime academy until we finally took a moonlight cruise down the canal on our 30th Wedding Anniversary. When our son was 14, his first paying job was pulling lobster pots out of the canal on a student license and taking his catch across the bridge to sell it to the wholesalers. I've ridden my bike along the banks on the service road, walked the length of the canal pushing a baby carriage and simply sat on a bench watching the boat traffic on a warm July day while Len pulled his pots below me.

What's for lunch?

Massachusetts has almost 1500 miles of coastline and I like to think I have explored most of it. The coastline is always changing-shifting in and out revealing mountain or desert landscapes depending upon the wind, the tide and the temperature. .. except for one little bit of it-a bit with which I am intimately familiar. ..the Cape Cod Canal. It's a coastal feature that didn't exist until 1914 and wasn't completed until 1916. Construction began in 1909 and because it's man-made there are purists who would contend it's not really part of the coastline. Tell that to all the critters who live there! It's been a part of my life ever since I can remember. And the canal has not changed shape or dimensions at all. The current can still top six knots, the stripers and blues still run through it in wild abandon and lobsters and mussels breed like crazy in the oxygen rich, rocky environment.

and down the embankment

Walking down the service road...

It stands to reason that on a rare warm January day we would each do what we enjoy the most. We walked the banks. Len pulled his pots and I took pictures.

Pulling pots in and out of the canal is not for the faint of heart. Len uses a 12-foot long aluminum pole with a hook and buoy attached to one end. He feeds the pot line onto the hook and then floats the rope up, gives the pots a yank, drops the pole and pulls the pot in. To set the pots he reverses the process, floating the pots out from the shore. By this time of the year the pots are so encrusted with seaweed, lichens and muscles that it's hard to see the pot itself. They weigh at least 25 pounds by now. I still don't know why Len loves it as he does but it certainly keeps him in shape. I think it's the lure of the canal. There is magic there. Here is the larger of the two lobsters that were yesterday's yield from 6 pots. It's slow now because water temperatures are very low. He will check them once more and then just leave them on the banks to dry out for the winter. In March he'll wire brush the pots clean and reset them ready for another long season.

As a rule, pots are anchored to the shore with boulders. In this case, however one of the original pilings for the first Sagamore Bridge serves as a cleat for the line. If you look closely you can see thousands of tiny muscles covering the surrounding rocks. Muscles thrive here in the tidal zone of the fast running, oxygen rich waters. Halfway through our two hours on the banks this USCG patrol boat came racing down the canal. It was the only boat we saw.

I Get IT!

2011-11-10T05:42:00.001-08:00

The "Occupy" movement has had me befuddled. What do they want? What do they stand for? This morning I had a moment of enlightenment. Reading the upcoming long-range forecasts and feeling sad over our decision to not head south this winter, I finally saw the connection between my life and the occupiers. We could not sell our home this past season so we are not going to Florida this winter. In our time on the market, we received no truly negative feedback. A few folks wanted a bigger backyard than they could imagine for our 1.3 acres of woods and wetland. Someone wanted another door into the living room. No one made an offer. Were we truly too highly priced? If that were the case I would think we would have received a lowball offer. The problem wasn't fair pricing. But the problem was the price!
A few weeks ago our bank had an appraiser come over because we decided to refinance to a lower interest rate. Her report came back showing the replacement value of the house alone-no land-to be only $23,000 less than our asking price. If you add $90,000 for the land that means our asking price was actually $67,000 less than it would be in a healthy market. Not only was it fairly priced, it bordered on a bargain. It confirmed my suspicions. Our modest little middle-class gambrel cape has no market. The occupy folks want jobs and they want to be able to buy my house. They can't. They've been shut out of the upwardly mobile movement so they have become the "sit still and wait" movement. Because I can't sell, I have also become part of the "sit still and wait movement". But-I am in good company. I know a lady in British Columbia who is trying to sell a lovely home in a very lovely place who has had no takers. My sister in Plymouth has a beautiful home for sale with a drop dead gorgeous view and she has no takers. My son has a condo in one of Boston's most "sought after neighborhoods" and he has no takers. None of these homes have what it takes to sell today.

None of these homes are fixer-uppers. They have been totally "fixed up."
None of them are pending foreclosure or short sale.
None of them have outdated septic systems.
None of them need total remodeling.

In other words they are not bargains. They are lovely homes in move-in condition but the folks who would normally move into them can't. Homes that are moving are single family over $500,000 and under $350,000. The few homes that have sold in our price range actually need a great deal of upgrading or repair and are much larger than our home. They are investments for folks who already have the wherewithal to do the work required. I guess it IS time for the "sit still and wait movement" to stand up and make noise. Now I get it. I understand the "Occupy" folks. The question is, can those in Congress and those on Wall Street who have been insulated from these mundane issues "get it"? That's the rub.

A Cheeseburger in Paradise....

2010-06-12T13:16:00.000-07:00

Parrotheads ….nobody has said it better! The burgers on Cabbage Key are a gastronomic delight but the journey to the Key from the head of the harbor at the confluence of the Peace and Myakka Rivers? Wow!
This past winter was a cold one in Florida and decent sailing days were few and far between-It was our “great experiment” year. Would we really like Florida enough to move there? This year we stayed in a small, nicely planned mobile home park. Our unit was on a canal about 5 miles up the Peace River. Lapwing floated gently at the dock right outside our bedroom window. Her mast was the first thing I saw upon awakening and that started me off with a smile that would last all day whether or not I got out!
The idea of trailering “the bird” (my husband’s nickname for her) 1600 miles in January was intimidating but I was determined-and my husband Len reluctantly but courageously supported my plan. We decided to take the less traveled westerly route across upstate NY to I 84, south on 87 and hook onto 95 north of Savannah. It was 100 miles longer but both of us are intimately familiar with 95 South between Boston and Washington and we couldn’t imagine driving through the asphalt jungle with a boat in tow. The mountains seemed friendlier. The roads were in great condition and we experienced no traffic jams at all until we hit 95 between Savannah and Jacksonville.
We arrived in Punta Gorda late on Saturday, January 16. We had taken it easy and it took us exactly three days to reach our destination. Our van averaged 20 miles to the gallon for the trip and hubby was very happy! Lapwing was easy to trailer. As I was unpacking the boat I realized something was missing….the BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh Lord. It was still on the deck in Massachusetts. Fortunately our son lives in Boston and was willing to pick it up and ship it via UPS freight.
While we waited for the boom to arrive we replaced a broken gudgeon and launched…at sunset on an unfamiliar river with my cousin Bob, a 15 year resident of Punta Gorda, as guide….What could go wrong? After all, It was less than two miles from the ramp to the dock.
Well…..things happened. Lapwing took on water…lots and lots of water! At first we didn’t notice it seeping silently into the bilge. We were intent upon getting up the river to our dock. Progress was slow. The Peace River is shallow and the channels can be tricky to find in the daylight never mind at dusk by a woman who has “memorized” the charts but never traveled the river.. We had to resort to a flashlight. I had no running lights. Using the shoreline as a guide and my “memorized” chart of the channels we proceeded slowly. Every now and then the prop would hit the sandy bottom and we would adjust our course. Dusk turned to pitch black. No moon. The mosquitoes and no-see-ums were out in force. We needed the insect repellant. I stepped over the companionway door to into several inches of water. Panic. All we could see was mangrove shadows looming only slightly darker than the river under us and the sky overhead. We had obviously missed the channel to our park and my “memorized” chart was well….. We had been on the water over an hour. We should have been there by now.
Bob made the command decision since he was manning the tiller. “See that dock with all the lights? That’s our new destination,” he said. He turned us around and headed for safe harbor. The dock owners turned out to be Massachusetts transplants! They graciously invited us in and insisted on driving us home. It was a trip I am sure our host will not soon forget…nor will we. It turned out we were 500 feet from the park. And that’s if you count his 250 ft driveway. Oops.

We solicited a park neighbor to take us back to the boat the next morning and guide us in. Lapwing had taken on a considerable amount of water and we did quite a bit of pumping. The leak was isolated to the centerboard bolt. We were able to fix it at low tide while the boat sat on the bottom. The gulf tides are extremely low in January. There were days when even Lapwing, wonderful “short water” boat that she is, could not navigate the canal.

That two mile trip taught me several of the most valuable boating lessons I have ever had. And I am a seasoned boat person. My husband has always had an outboard and we have boated, skied and fished the waters from Boston to Buzzards Bay for close to 40 years. We seldom used a chart and when we did it was to look for obstructions. Never did we use one to plot a course. We always knew where we were and where we wanted to go! Over the next two months I learned to read a chart, plot a course and stay on course with a compass. I solo piloted Lapwing up and down the five mile stretch on the Peace River under the I75 and Charlotte Bridges out into Charlotte Harbor. I practiced, practiced practiced.

Finally, after weeks of disappointing weather and tides, on March 27 Lapwing, Len and I set sail for Cabbage Key at sunrise. Making our way down 5 miles of river to the harbor we waved to commercial crabbers pulling their pots. Commorants, egrets and pelicans were stretching their wings and heading out on their morning hunt. In the open waters of the harbor a flotilla of boats was converging for a regatta. We raised our sails and for the next 9 miles we zipped at a steady clip on a Northeast Wind down the harbor without tacking once! What a rush! As we approached Boca Grande Pass, the tide turned. Our favorable outgoing tide had now become incoming. The wind speed had only a slight edge on the current and there were little stretches when we seemed to stand still. Once we crossed out of the main channel into the shallows we regained our speed. Only once did I need to raise the centerboard and pole us off the sandbars. It was no big deal. I love my Mariner. It can go where many sailboats can’t and for “short water” Charlotte Harbor it is the perfect boat.

We made Cabbage Key at noon. We relaxed, had that wonderful cheeseburger in the funky, dollar bill covered “burger joint” at Cabbage Key Inn, wandered the Key which is actually at a higher altitude than the mainland and then set out for the return trip. On the spur of the moment we decided to sail a ways down to Captiva Pass to get a view of Sanibel and Captiva from the Harbor side. It was worth it…until the wind died… Stubborn yank that I am it took me two hours to accept the notion of lowering my sails. When my husband of 36 years threatened the “d” word, I reluctantly close hauled and started the engine. The sun was on its downward course when we hit Boca Grande and by the time we hit Burnt Store Marina it was gloriously setting, casting a golden red haze over the seascape and and gifting me with “red sails in the sunset”. We got back to our dock at 11 pm, tired, hungry and filled with gratitude for the blessings in our lives that enabled us to complete our Florida adventure in style! I had clip on battery operated running lights, a wonderful spotlight, a compass and a chart. Lapwing was water tight and this time I knew my course and stuck to it.

We even took the GPS and Len entered our waypoints “just in case.” The harbor was peaceful and unspeakably beautiful with a waxing gibbous moon and only scattered high thin clouds. We left Florida on March 31 reluctantly. We will be back. Next year we will try a condo closer to the harbor. And yes, we do believe we could live there.

Real Weddings: Emily Kroshus to Matthew Hawrilenko-www.njbride.com - New Jersey Bride

2010-04-19T15:09:00.001-07:00

Real Weddings: Emily Kroshus to Matthew Hawrilenko-www.njbride.com - New Jersey Bride

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Beware "Your" Bank!

2009-12-03T07:18:00.000-08:00

We have a joint checking account/savings account at "that" bank. As recently as April the checking account was interest-bearing. And fee-free. At some point between April and September "that" bank began to charge us a $25 a month fee! I am guilty of not only not reading the fine print stuff. I am also guilty of pretty much not opening my statements because I do all my banking these days on line. I know...excuses, excuses. Apparently my account was changed from free to fee because it was in "that" bank's best interest to do so. Oh! They still pay me interest but then they tack on their $25 fee! My net loss, frankly is in the 20's somewhere. Now, I am a business woman. I absolutely believe I should pay for any services I receive but...$25 a month to maintain a checking account? I don't think so. At what point did the account become fee? When we paid off our Home Equity Loan in July. That's when. Which takes me to another bank saga....
We have our savings account and credit card at a Credit Union to which we have belonged since 1977. Until January of 2009 our credit card interest rate was under 10% We also enjoyed a cash back rewards program which resulted in a nice little check each December. Our policy with credit cards has always been to pay them in full each month so as to avoid interest. Once in a while we will leave a small balance but it's rare. In January we got a form letter telling us that our interest rate would be doubled to over 18% "We will consider reducing this rate when your payment history becomes current" stated the letter. I was ticked! This year we carried no balance at all on that card but we continued to use it and pay no interest. In March we received a letter telling us the cash back program was cancelled and our check for the first quarter would be paid in December. The check arrived the 1st.
Today I am finalizing the transfer of all our accounts from both banks to another bank. We are fortunate in the options we have which are not necessarily available to everyone. We know that this new bank will not pull any fast ones on us. We know it is sound and we have done other business with this company since 1967 when my husband entered the armed forces. Electronic commerce has made it possible for us to do this easily and securely. And this is one bank which has used this new way of doing business to keep its overhead down and service its clients profitably without usury.
Watch your statements. Check out your options. Don't be afraid to make changes if it is in your own best interests to do so.

Camelot Cannot Die

2009-08-31T06:37:00.000-07:00

The tears still well up today and I didn't know the man...certainly not as well as I have known our employees, our friends or family. I was 13, not even old enough to vote when he was first elected to the Senate in 1962. To me he was "old". Today, from the vantage point of 60, I can see that really, he was pretty young back in 1962. Barely 30. In those days he was "just another Kennedy." "The baby brother." The "wannabe". The upstart. The Kennedy name that mattered in our Irish Catholic household back then was President John F. Kennedy. "How does the president feel about this?" wsa the question my parents asked before volunteering to work on the young man's campaign. They would say things like "Rose and Joe must be so proud" as if Rose and Joe were old family friends. I thought nothing of it. After all, if Rose and Joe sand their kids were Catholic that made them family. If they were Irish Catholic? Heck-we MUST be related. That is just the way it was back in the dark ages of American Waspism and Irish Catholic tribalism.

And today those are the dark ages though certainly they didn't seem so at the time. As children in an Irish Catholic enclave of Boston we were pretty isolated from the blatant racism on in the south and the murky world of organized crime "way out there" in Vegas or "down in NYC". We were told that black people were "negroes" (that other N word was disrespectful-akin to calling an Irishman a mick") Black babies though, my mother told us, were called pickanninies...I don't ever recall even seeing a black person until I was eight or nine. For us, not only was racism a foreign word...people of color didn't even exist.

Somehow, for all their Irish Catholic cultural traits with which we so strongly identified, the Kennedys were different. They had come to know that racism and violence were real. Somehow they knew that compared to most people the Irish were not in the least as put-upon as most of us believed we were. They saw no reason why they shouldn't go to Harvard so they went! They saw no reason why they shouldn't run for national office and so they ran. They did those things most of us "micks" would only dream about. Perhaps that is why I am so sad. Perhaps that is why the tears keep welling. The Kennedys defined my generation. There is no doubt about that. And now the last of the dreamers has moved on and I am so sad. Passing the torch is so hard to do.

The Kennedy brothers knew that people could do hateful things to one another. They had seen it first hand. They recognized that not all people were gifted with money, talent and dedication to the public good. That combination goes to only a few in each generation. The Kennedys believed that this country was uniquely formed to allow this cream to rise. And so they learned to surf the waves of public opinion and sail the storms of controversy. In turn the older brothers took on communism, totalitariansim, the mob and the Klan.

It was left to the youngest to take on the rest of us. And he did it so well. Inspite of their sophistication those Kennedy boys dared to dream and they dared to believe that we are better than we think we are. That is the essence of Camelot. The dream. I pray that the Honorable Senator from Massachusetts was right when he announced just a year ago that "The Dream Lives on." I so want my son and his children to experience Camelot.

2009-04-03T10:49:00.000-07:00

Well, here are a few of the Quincy competition pictures. My thanks to Douglas Banks, owner of the Fred Astaire Studio in Hanover. http://www.fadshanover.com

Dancing Away Dementia

2009-03-11T10:56:00.000-07:00

L-R Nancy, Tony "dancing with the stars" Dovolani and Moi!
Shortly after I entered the last year of my 5th decade I decided to take up dancing. From its mid point on that decade had been rough. In the space of less than two years 3 members of our wedding party had passed on and I had spent the previous eight months being monitored for lung cancer. When I got the "get out of jail free" card from the doctor I literally needed to jump and shout for joy! I also knew it was time to get cracking on my own bucket list while I still had choices. And learning to dance was at the top. Our son's upcoming wedding became a practical excuse for actualizing a dream I had held onto since childhood. The fact that Jane Seymour had done it on Dancing with the Stars helped a great deal too. After all we were the same age!
I called the local Fred Astaire Studio at 9 AM on a fine April morning. I had it in my head to learn a lively dance set to "Those were the days my friend...we thought they'd never end. We'd sing and dance forever and a day...... " An answering machine came on and informed me that the studio did not open until 1 pm and instructed me to leave a message or call back later. I chose to do neither. For the next few days a battle raged in my head as I drove back and forth past the studio. "I'm too old." "What am I thinkng!" "It's a waste of money. You know HE'll never go for it." Still, I wanted to do it badly. With or without my husband. Finally, one day I stopped and went in. "Do you teach old women to dance?" I asked. Two gentlemen at the counter stopped their chatting and smiled. "We can", said the one with the British accent. I smiled. I liked this man. No hollow subterfuge here! This would be a good place to learn...if I could still learn...
I went to the "guest party" the next night. It's a session with necomers like me testing the waters. I learned a couple of basic steps. Piece of cake! I signed up for the introductory course...which was followed in short order by the Bronze levels 1 & 2. I could learn! Who knew? Maybe this so-called aging isn't all bad after all! Last weekend I danced in a competition. I really wanted to see where I stacked up against others my age at my level... and I did well, thank you very much!
Still. A bit of doubt lingered. I loved it. But it's pricey. Can I justify the expense? Then what should appear in my inbox but the link to the article I posted here yesterday-dancing, the article tells me, has a host of healthy benefits not the least of which is warding off senile dementia! YAY!!!!!!!!!! A practical reason to keep the dancing shoes! I am a practical person you see. And extremely rational when it comes to money! Now I'm dreaming about waltzing to "When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are..." or perhaps..."A dream is a wish your heart makes..."

Dancing Like the Stars!

2009-03-10T05:33:00.001-07:00

Dancing Like the Stars!

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Lapwing & I

2008-10-14T05:51:00.000-07:00

There are two species of the extreme New Englander. Hill folk and flatlanders. One is the high country wanderer who cannot resist the temptation to climb every mountain and ford every stream. Her favorite perch is atop a cliff where she can gaze out over the valley below while letting the clouds drift through her hair. The other cruises the flat lands where they meet the sea, wading in the shallow, playing in the surf or resting quietly on the sand, gaze fixed on the distant horizon. In the seasons of extremes-summer and winter-these two species will cross into one another's territories sharing in the abundance that nature proffers. In the between seasons they stay close to home seduced by the nascent pink and green haze emerging from the land suddenly innundated by the thawing snows and flood tides of spring or reveling in the primitive pigments and riotous bounty of two very different harvests. I am a flatlander. It is autumn.
Today the leaves are drifitng down in greater quantities than last week. It is warm and I want to be with Lapwing. My lapwing skims across the surface of the sea embracing the wind. She loves to haunt the shallow bays and coastal inlets of my natal Boston. Now, in early autumn, each day we have spent together has been a gift just as she was a gift to me from my husband at the end of August.
Lapwing is a sailboat. My sailboat. Like her name sake, a beautiful plover which is rarely seen in these parts, she blew into my life in late August. It had been better than 40 years since I had grasped a main sheet and controlled a rudder but my love for the sport had never diminished and my better half knew that. I have taken her out at every opportunity-initially with one of our friends who patiently reacquainted me with the basics of rigging and sailing. The past few weeks I have gone solo with just the main sail-the jib needs work over the winter. This past weekend was our farewell to summer sail and the weather was perfect.
From the middle of Nantasket Bay you can see the majestic Boston skyline rise into the clouds. The Blue Hills along her south side are rollers of blazing fall gold and red and orange punctuated by exclamation points of deep green pines. The quartz rich granite cliffs of Quincy sparkled in the Sunday sun and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that nowhere in New England was there a more beautiful view. As we skimmed across the bay toward Spectacle Island a little flock of plovers rose up in front of us as if making way for their bigger cousin. They settled quietly to our right and gazed as we moved on swiftly and silently. In a sailboat you can hear the wind in the rigging. You can hear the water moving aggainst the rudder and you can feel the current through the tiller. You and your boat are one. The wind and the current determine your course and the journey is all that matters. No destination is required. Today lapwing is dancing at her mooring and her captain is manning the office phones. This weekend we will pull her in and begin the labor of love needed to refresh her for the spring flood tides. Just for today though, it is autumn and I will embrace the journey ...

Compensation at last.....

2008-10-06T06:27:00.000-07:00

Children are truly God's blessing on we oldsters. They are wonderfully at home in cyberspace, a place we graying ones frequent but only in short bursts. After my HP trials and tribulations I received a lovely gift purchased from an Indian Customer Service outfit. It made my day! A person with a reasonable (as opposed to wonderful or it's flipside, horrible) singing voice called me to deliver a musical telegram. Not only did this person give a presentation designed to highlight the song lyrics rather than the voice, she informed me that the song was a gift from my son, Baker Jamil Abdallah. Now, given that our surname is a 10 letter long Anglicized Ukranian name which both my husband and my son have long talked about abbreviating, this came as a shock. Why would someone adopt such a very strange name? I spend so much time puzzling over this that I no longer worry about such futile quests as returning to the good ole days when customer service, at some cost to the bottom line, actually served customers. Instead I marvel at how adaptable we are! All it took was a catchy jingle sung by a forgettable voice with a heavy accent sent by a chameleon son with both real and fictitious on-line personas and I no longer even care that HP doesn't care! Have some fun for yourself and visit www.tajtunes.com It will make your day! I promise.

“There is Something Special in the Air.”

2008-09-08T04:56:00.000-07:00

This is the tale of two trips and two cities. In this story I cannot blame "the binary code that does not spell customer." Instead I will describe the "something special" American Airlines offers its Boston passengers and compare it to the special smething American Eagle serves up in George Town.

In August we left Boston for our second annual "cruise the Bahamas with Captain Fred" trip. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 6:55 am. We arrived at the Park-Shuttle-Fly lot at 5:50 and were standing on line at the airport at 6:05. OK-Not exactly an hour but close enough. The line moved slowly and for so early in the morning it was long! After about 10 minute an expediter came through checking flight numbers. She pulled us from the line and sent us down to an available agent. The time was now 6:15.

Suddenly our path was blocked by a male agent in gestapo mode. I could tell this was going to be "something special".

In a loud voice he demanded, "Where are you going?" We pointed to the open service agent and he said, "Destination please!" Again very loudly. We told him "Bahamas via Miami." "That flight is closed!" My heart dropped. I looked at him and I said, "We have a connecting flight." He said, "Well, go ahead then. Maybe she can help you." Grrrrrrrrrrr.

The open agent quickly checked us in and wished us a good flight. We then sprinted for the gate, sure that our plane was boarded. It was not. While waiting for our "group" to be called I studied our tickets. I had booked the flight on line and had chosen our seats. Our seat selections had been changed. Not only were we no longer sitting together-we were in two different boarding groups! I was not happy but there was no changing things now.

As luck would have it our boarding groups were called together. As we approached the boarding ramp another male agent stopped us and told my husband his backpack would need to be checked. And we would be charged. Another open mouth moment for me! Still feeling aggravated by the rude behavior of the first agent, I immediately stepped out of character and said, "What are you talking about? That's a backpack, for pete's sake." The agent replied, "It's too big and needs to be checked." I shook my head. My husband started to hand it over and I said, "No. That is not oversize and we need it." The agent shrugged. I was "making a scene" I guess and he just told us to move on. As I stepped onto the ramp the agent said in a voice to be heard by anyone who was within 100 yards, "Boy, was SHE a piece of work." I smiled and quietly said to my husband, "Gosh, it felt good to stand up for myself."

Upon arrival in Miami things immediately began to improve. The first kiosk we saw after deplaning was Starbuck's! My mood soared to vacation mode. Vente Cappucino with sugar and cinnamon firmly in hand, we meandered to the American Eagle Customer Service Desk to see about getting our seats changed. The agent was not particularly friendly but she quickly managed to relocate us so that we could sit together. If she was having a bad hair day, at least she didn't take it out on us. Still, a smile would have been nice.

Our experience coming home was very different. In fact, in George Town it was "something special." When we checked in the agent said, "I assume you want to sit together?" "Yes," we replied. While generating the boarding passes she commented on how good it was that we were early (we were only the required 1 hour early). She explained that our plane had not yet left Miami thanks to thunderstorms. It was good, she said, that we had allowed for a 5 hour layover. I can't take credit for that. It was what was available when we booked.

We waited and waited and waited. Every 20 minutes or so an agent would give us an update on the flight. She was friendly, good-humored and patient. The friendly, good-natured attitude of the all people on duty at George Town was contagious. Not one person was upset with the delay. Not even me!

We arrived in Miami finally with less than an hour to get through customs and make our flight back to Boston. Back stateside the irritation level began to rise again. We waited 25 minutes for our bags to be offloaded from a flight that was already over 4 hours late getting in and which was filled with passengers making connections-all of whom needed to clear customs. When it finally came, we grabbed the bag and had to sprint across the concourse, down an escalator and then follow what seemed to be an interminable yellow arrow to something called "connecting flights." On arrival there we noticed 3 stations-none of which were identified but all of which were manned by baggage handlers. We stopped at the first one and said "Boston?" The handler looked at us blankly, grabbed the bag and we took off. I prayed the bag would end up in Boston MA-not England....

We had eaten nothing since breakfast. It was now 9:10 pm. A glance at the arrivals screen told us our departing flight was delayed 20 minutes. YES! We stopped at "Au Bon Pain" to grab ready-made wraps and water. Food in hand we booked it to the gate.

In Boston we waited 25 minutes for our bag. This was the first time I had flown American in at least 6 years. I have flown Continental, Jet Blue, Southwest, USAir and Delta. I have never experienced the baggage wait times with them that we experienced with American and I certainly have NEVER been treated as rudely as we were treated by that early morning Boston ground agent gang.

Yes American. There is "something special" in the air. It is the wind of change that is blowing customer service overseas because Americans have forgotten how to serve....Based on my experiences so far I would tell HP to send exportable customer service jobs to Bahamas. They need the work and they are perfect for the job. American? I think you should change your name in Boston to protect your reputation...

Dancing with the cords....

2008-09-02T09:52:00.000-07:00

We've been on vacation but we received a notification on Sunday stating that our repaired computer was shipped back to us. It arrived Tuesday....
It was returned with the note "No problem found." Somehow I am not surprised. And here is where it gets interesting. I asked my husband for the "correct" power supply since we had inadvertently sent in the old IBM power supply for repair. He pointed me to a cord plugged into the wall. I picked it up and looked at it. "Is this the one you were using?" I asked. "Yep," he replied. "It's the new one circuit city gave me." Hmmmm....It fit the computer but...it seemed a bit small to me. And it wasn't getting warm once I plugged it in. I went into the room where he had stowed his HP portable printer and checked the cord on that. Well, the cord wasn't with the printer! That was odd. Then I checked his laptop case. Son of a gun if there wasn't another HP power supply cord in there. "Len, try this one!" It also fit...and it warmed up immediately. Sure enough-he had been using the wrong power supply with his computer all along AND Circuit City replaced the "wrong" power supply with the same model "wrong" power supply. There is nothing wrong with his computer. It has been running without issue since Tuesday. I don't really feel stupid this time. I'm not an HP dealer and it wasn't even my equipment for which I "nobly suffered the slings and barbs of outrageous fortune" in my draw of service reps.
My opinion of the treatment I received from the India based service people stands. It was HORRIBLE. Obviously the service we received at Circuit City was also incredibly inept. My husband, like many folks our age, is not the most computer saavy person on the planet. The power supply for the printer is only slightly smaller than the power supply for the computer. BUT, it IS smaller. It seems the tech at Circuit City should have picked up on the problem. When he didn't, HP should have included a note with the computer telling him why they were returning it unrepaired. I doubt I would have even checked for an alternate power supply if the issue of power supply had not been so prominent in all our dealings. Lesson learned. All power supplies are not created equal-even when they fit!

One more day...

2008-08-21T04:49:00.000-07:00

Today they have agreed to test the motherboard. This didn't have to be so hard or so frustrating.

YES!!!!!!!!!! or nooooooooooooooo

2008-08-20T12:54:00.000-07:00

Someone out there in USA land called back! Initially he told me that I could not simply return the power supply. They are not set up to match my power supply with my computer. Can't be done. I was told I would need to let them send the computer back unrepaired. I would then need to call India again and request another return authorization. After i apologized for my mistake in sending the wrong power supply. I, with a very strained, in fact artificial, calm explained that their solution was unacceptable. I simply do not have 2 hours to spend on the line with India or any other exotic land on the planet-or off the planet for that matter no matter how nice the people might be.

Then he asked me if I was Leonard, the owner of the said machine. I explained, again, that my husband uses the machines but I understand them so he needed to deal with me. Suddenly I felt heard. We went back and forth again over the issues. Finally he understood that the power supply really wasn't the issue. The power pack inside the laptop is the issue. It turns out that the a customer service person I spoke with in India reported the wrong issue in spite of two hours of explanations to 3 people regarding the real issue. Then, in spite of repair tickets which I included with the laptop which disclosed the real issue the decision was made that the power supply was the issue and since I had stupidly enclosed the wrong power supply they weren't even prepared to consider the real issue which was fully disclosed in writing to anyone who might want to read it.

This time I was heard. The paperwork was read more closely. The decison was reached to place the machine on a real HP power supply and confirm once and for all that the power pack is the issue. When that is confirmed the laptop will be repaired and returned to me/my husband. flash forward to 5 pm EDT
Just received a phone call. The aforementioned conversation was not noted, recorded or reported nor was any request sent on to tech. They still want to return the unrepaired laptop or charge me $390 for a new power supply. What would you do. I am not at the moment feeling very serene.

Installment 2

2008-08-20T06:24:00.000-07:00

Today I actually went to check the order status. The first thing I noticed was that they said they were trying to contact me. The ONLY contact we have had is the notification I posted in yesterday's installment. Nowhere in that notification does it tell me to contact them. As I read through the status notice I found this.....
Order summary
Order number:RCE682 - 01
Entry date / time:08/11/2008 3:31pm PT
Model number:KC412UA , HP PAVILION DV6775US NOTEBOOK
Serial number:CNF8047D4Y Replacement serial number:
Order type:BOX PLUS PICKUP & REPAIR, 1 DAY SHIPPING
Failure : Adapter Other
Warranty status:out of warranty
Service charge:$312.90
Needless to say the "out of warranty" determination and the $312. service charge got my notice real quick! I called the customer service number listed with the report. Naturally I was connected to India.
Apparently when I packed up the computer I sent the wrong power supply chord. I inadvertently grabbed the one from the old IBM. The "new" HP chord was still plugged into the outlet. Ughhhh....I hate when I'm stupid. She told me they will send me a box in which to return the power supply chord. Yes, this is sward winning alright....

HP's Award Winning Customer Service

2008-08-19T09:42:00.000-07:00

It's a very good thing my self-esteeem does not rest on my value as a Hewlett Packard customer. In fact, ever since I became a "valued customer" to companies world-wide and inumerable, the word customer no longer conjures up the image of a person. Instead I see an interminable binary code expression which I am unable to decipher. Because this lengthy code which is supposed to equal customer does not conjure up the image of a person, it is safe to assume there is a programming error here. I do not know if HP originally wrote the code-I tend to think not-I think it was Microsoft but more on that thought later-I do know HP has not corrected it. In fact, they use it so well that they have received an award from the industry that promulgates the use of the code!

On March 15 my husband was given a brand new HP dv6775es. That's a laptop with a price point over $1,000 with Windows Vista Home Premium. On June 9, after a week of inexplicable auto shut-downs and reboots, he took the computer to firedog at Circuit City. On June 14 it was returned to us with a new hard drive. So far so good. We liked this service. It was efficient, courteous, relatively fast considering it took two days for the computer to act out in the same manner for CC. I thought HP had a refreshing, old-fashioned customer service model-You know-Customer aka person-has a problem with product, takes it back to where he/she bought it, deals face-to-face with another person, gets it repaired and picks it up a few days later. Both people share pleases, thank yous and commiserate over the mechanical breakdown. No one gets ticked off-It is what it is.

We were wrong.

On July 28 we bring the computer back to CC because the battery is no longer recharging and the computer doesn't seem to be getting any power from the power supply cord. Firedog switches out the supply cord and sends us home. This fix doesn't solve the problem. We return to CC on August 1. Firedog tells us that they need to send it out to HP for repair. It appears the power supply is defective. On August 11 HP returns the computer to CC unrepaired with no explanation as to why it was not repaired. Firedog tells us to contact HP and gives us the number.

At 1:47 pm on August 11, 2008 we call HP. Because I am more computer savvy than my husband we decide I will deal with their customer service people. We do not wait too long for someone to come on the line after we work our way through the interminable menu of options. We are connected to India. Uhoh.....Been here done this with Sony. I hope this experience is a little better....It should be easier. I am not looking for a part for a two-year-old camera. I just need a return authorization. And this is India, not the Phillipines so perhaps it will be better. I go into this with my eyes wide open but my spirit is fueled by the power of positive thinking. I knew what was wrong with the machine. I knew it needed to go back. I did not know why HP returned it unrepaired but I knew given half a chance they would right the wrong.....

At 3:44 pm I was out of fuel. I was exhausted. I had spoken to 3 different people. Each of them had heard my story. I was furious. But I had my return authorization. On August 12 FEDEX appeared at my door with a shipping box and label. I packed that baby up and got it out of here the same day.

That night, still a bit bent out of shape by the entire experience which happened to take place on a day when I was trying to get a proposal out the door before the deadline came and went, I sat down at my trusty IBM keyboard and wrote a letter to the CEO of HP. Here is what I said. I realize now I made a mistake.

Message:Today it took 4 of your customer service reps 1 hour and 45 minutes to issue to me a return authorization for a computer that is under warranty. This particular computer had already been returned to Circuit City for service two times. The second time Circuit City sent it out to HP for repair. HP returned it to Circuit City unrepaired. I run a small business. The computer was purchased to support the business. We are a two person office and I did not have 1 hour and 45 minutes to spare today. I have the impression that your Indian rep on a very bad phone line was deliberately keeping me holding just to see how angry I could become. I promise you this. Right now I do not believe that I will ever again purchase another Hewlett Packard product and my office is full of them. We have been without the laptop now for nearly a month. Reliability is no longer your middle name and customer service is most certainly not your top priority. If the customer were #1 I would not be venting to you at 11 pm. I've never had a service experience like this in my life and I am not young.

I actually made a mistake in the above letter. Today I found my original notes and I had jotted down the actual start time of the conversation when after calling the number firedog gave us we were redirected to a second number.

The following day I received an e-mail acknowledging receipt of the above. Later the same day I received a phone call which I returned. The call purportedly came from "The Executive Office." I was not impressed. I know a script reader whenI hear one. What part of "I don't have time" do they not understand? This person called "to let you know that we respond to every e-mail we receive. How can we help you?" At that moment I knew the translation of the binary code that should equal customer but does not-it equals "The number to call to practice your reading skills is 2-878-6637".

It is now the 19th of August. Yesterday my husband received this message:

Dear Customer:

At HP our products are designed, manufactured and serviced, to meet our high standards.

We apologize for the possible delay in delivery of your service; however, we are diligently working on expediting your order.
Service Order Number # RCE68201Model # KC412UASerial # CNF8047D4Y

We are striving to meet our estimated delivery date; in case where this is not met due to various reasons, an HP representative will attempt to contact you to communicate a new date and/or discuss possible alternative support solutions that could better meet your needs.

Please paste the link below into your browser to get shipment status updates and contact information:

https://warp1.external.hp.com/cso_status/order_lookup.asp
Or contact 1-800-HPINVENT, where we are always ready to serve you.
Please do not reply to this email message, it was sent from an address that is not monitored.

Sincerely,
HP Americas Consumer Support

Date: 8/18/2008

Ahhhhhhh-One can derive great satisfaction from working with a vendor who has recieved the highest award given by the The Service and Support Professionals Association (SSPA). The SSPA recognized HP for the quality of customer support delivered through its call centers. This award is given to companies that handle more than 10,000 requests per month for a wide array of products, while maintaining a high level of customer satisfaction. I wonder how they find out about the customer satisfaction part?