Author: Denis Wilhelm

Jerks and Killers

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Years ago my wife told me that all people were either basically good or basically bad.  In her explanation she gave the following examples:  Good = saints and various kind people.  Bad = jerks and killers.  It’s an understatement to say that those are pretty broad categories.  My kids and I have laughed at this pronouncement ever since but I’ve been married to Deborah for over 35 years now and I understand that to her it makes perfect sense.  I suppose that if humans and pigs share 99% of the same DNA then it’s not unreasonable to believe that saints and kind people and jerks and killers belong in the same behavioral categories.  I just hope Deb includes me in the “good” category.

Today I would like to focus on the jerks and killers. 

Lately at work someone has been brewing very weak coffee.  We have a ‘state of the art’ brewing system that a trained chimp could operate and yet EVERY morning I pour a cup of weak-ass coffee because some jerk can’t follow the simple instructions.  Hey stupid – you might as well drink hot water!  I’ve yet to discover who the jerk that can’t make coffee is.  But I have my suspicions.

There is a traffic merge near my office where EVERY night some jerks feel the need to stop.  YOU DON’T NEED TO STOP – IT’S A MERGE!  All these jerks are doing is holding up traffic. This is a daily annoyance.  For the love of God – read the sign.  Keep the traffic moving!  Of course my honking and yelling never seems to positively influence the offenders. 

My next door neighbor’s lawn looks like a cross between a mole farm and a prairie grass preserve.  Hey hillbilly – if you don’t want to take care of your lawn then don’t have one!  Move to an apartment or condo development where they take care of that sort of thing for you.  Look around jerk neighbor – you’re the only one whose lawn looks like a toxic waste dump. 

At the gym I attend there are several jerks but the one that is most offensive is the crazy guy that jumps from machine to machine and then becomes noticeably irritated, muttering curse words under his breath, when someone else decides to use the equipment that he had planned on “jumping to” next.  This guy might be slightly unstable (his appearance would tend to make you think so) but regardless he’s a jerk supreme. 

So when do jerks cross the line and become killers?  Do all jerks have the capacity for murder?  And should I be concerned about the jerk at the gym “snapping” and killing me for using a piece of equipment that he planned on using next?

If the shirt fits - wear it!

Unfortunately Debbie doesn’t have any answers for those questions.  So rather than worry about being killed by some jerk.  I’ve decided to work hard on not becoming a jerk myself and eventually a killer.  I suppose the whole jerk/killer thing could be a slippery slope. 

And now I’m wondering if I am considered a jerk by others?  Someone might be writing about me at this precise moment. 

I’m the jerk that bitches about the coffee EVERY morning.  I’m the jerk that honks at drivers EVERY night.  I’m the jerk that gives my neighbor the ‘cold shoulder’ because of his inferior lawn care ability.  And I’m the jerk at the gym that jumps on a piece of equipment right before someone else was planning on using it.    

Oh no!  I may not be a good person after all.  Don’t tell Debbie.  But please help me before I kill someone!  Your prayers will be appreciated.

Peace,

Denis

Love Story

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Today marks the one year anniversary of Aunt Sha’s death.  She and Uncle Ted died within weeks of one another last year – he in July; she in September.  They will be remembered forever for their extraordinary love for one another.  Their life together was a true love story.

Forever Love

 Here’s what I know:  Ted was about 20 years old and in the Air Force when they met in the early 1950’s.  Sha (actually Sharon) was working at restaurant in downtown St. Louis.  She was only seventeen.  On a dare she accepted a date with Ted.  Six weeks later they were married – the rest is history.  They remained “in love” with one another for the rest of their lives. 

They raised three children.  Uncle Ted retired from the Air Force and they settled in Western Kentucky where he worked until a second retirement.  Aunt Sha became a nurse.  Uncle Ted became a Sunday school teacher and a Deacon at their beloved First Baptist Church.  They made a nice life for themselves while their children grew and their grandchildren and great-grandchildren came along. 

For nearly 60 years they shared a life together that would serve as an example to all that knew them.  If you’re searching for role models, you can look to Aunt Sha and Uncle Ted.  Loving, devoted, caring, giving, selfless and always willing to reach out to others in need.  As long as I knew them they always had a plaque that hung over a doorway in their home that read: “As for me and my household; we will serve the Lord” – Joshua 24:15.  And they did!

But more importantly (to me anyway) was their love for one another.  They just loved each other – pure and simple as that.  There wasn’t a decision that was made that didn’t reflect their concern for one another.  If it was something as simple as where to have dinner – it wouldn’t do to have chosen someplace that they wouldn’t both enjoy.  When it came to big decisions the same consideration was given as well.  There was plenty of sacrifice (so that one could give the other what was needed or wanted) but always with love and NEVER with resentment or a need to get something in return.  They gave from their hearts.

I believe that the greatest gift that they gave to one another were themselves.  They cherished their time together.  They were their own best companions.  And they created such a home full of love that all that entered were better for having been there.  Whenever I think of hospitality and what it truly means I think of the house on Mayfield Highway.  It will always be my second home.  It will always remain in my heart as a place of laughter, love and refuge.  Whenever we would call to say we would like to visit the answer was always the same – YES.  “How soon will you be here?  We just need a little time to get things ready.” 

Aunt Sha and Uncle Ted treated one another as precious jewels – never forgetting to thank God for the blessing of their life together.  I’ve learned a lot from my own parents but I think that I have learned how to love Deb by the example Uncle Ted gave me.  And that may be the greatest gift that I have ever received.  I miss them both so much but I am comforted to know that they are in heaven together “getting things ready” for when we can join them.

Peace,

Denis

Here’s a link to a song that always makes me think of Uncle Ted and how he could find whatever it was that Aunt Sha “needed”.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nw-BzhntIIg

Bill, Silent Guy, and Dumb-Dumb

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Last week I was at a Macy’s Store in Milwaukee for a Designer Accessories Shop installation.  That’s what I do or I should say that’s what the company that I work for does.  We manufacture and install custom retail store fixtures.  As the V.P. of Operations I have project managers that are working all over the country (and sometimes internationally) setting up new stores or handling remodels.  Often our customers’ shops are inside a department store – we call those ‘shop in shops’ (don’t blame me – I didn’t make up that name).  Occasionally when my project management teams are spread too thin I will go to installations to meet with a customer rep or just to make certain everything is completed correctly. 

That’s what I was doing this past week.  I usually don’t announce to the installation crew that I’m a V.P. because it tends to make people nervous.  I’m just Denis.  Last week the crew that was at the Macy’s store was ‘contracted out’ – meaning that are not employees but instead they are hired for a specific location.  We may or may not ever work together again. 

I was told by the Installation Company that Mike would be the supervisor of the crew.  When I arrived and asked for Mike I was greeted by Bill who explained that Mike was not there.  Bill seemed okay so I wasn’t too concerned.  His ‘crew’ consisted of two others that I nicknamed ‘Silent Guy’ and ‘Dumb-Dumb’.  Let me explain:  First of all, I know that it’s not nice to call people names but for the record I only called them names in my head (or behind their backs – I have manners).  Secondly, ‘Silent Guy’ never spoke – he only sort of grunted.  And thirdly, well – we’ll get to ‘Dumb-Dumb’ later.

Initially things went well.  Our truck was on time.  The dock was available.  The store personnel were friendly and cooperative.  But as the morning progressed it became painfully obvious that Bill and his crew were  S   L   O   W !  I couldn’t have lit a fire under their asses with a blowtorch.  And time was slipping away!  Plus I discovered Dumb-Dumb down in the stockroom arguing with the ‘Trash Lady’ about why he should have to “breakdown” cardboard boxes!  Really Dumb-Dumb, you’re going to argue with the 80 year old lady who is kind enough to help you?  Taking care of your trash is not her job!  The store was scheduled to open at 10:00AM and after 2-1/2 hours of slowly dragging stuff to the sales floor, unpacking fixtures and wiping things down “at a snail’s pace” I finally (kind of) lost my cool.  We had 30 minutes to clear the aisles, remove all the debris, and make the space ready for the store opening.  Concerned that the store managers as well as my customer contact would “flip out” because everything was in complete disarray – I yelled at Bill and crew.  I told them to stop what they were doing (whatever that was) and to get EVERYTHING cleaned up, cleared out, and ready for merchandise.  Bill explained that they didn’t usually do things that way and I responded that “today is a new day – we’re doing it MY WAY”.  I went into full V.P. mode!

Within a few minutes the space was much more to my liking.  Lots of clearing, cleaning and straightening was happening.  The merchandise specialist arrived and began arranging handbags.  While Bill and his ‘crew’ were still sulking, I was strutting around quite pleased with my command of the situation.  Then it happened…

The Operations Manager for Macy’s came by to ask if everything would be ready to go by 10:00AM.  I was certain I was ready for a verbal “beat down” because of my installation crew’s lack of efficiency and orderliness.  Instead her reply was:  SUPER-DEE-DUPER!  And then she proceeded to tell me how much she enjoyed working with Bill and “The Boys” – what great guys they were; how they made each install easy because they were so relaxed in their approach. That it was ALWAYS a stress-free experience for all involved.  That all the store personnel LOVED working with them, etc. etc.  And that I was really smart to have hired them because she wouldn’t want anyone else working in her store.  I sheepishly thanked her knowing full well that Bill and his ‘crew’ heard every word she had said.

In my uptight and reactionary way, I had forgotten where I was.  This was Wisconsin not New York.  Not L.A.  These folks at this Macy’s loved ‘shooting the breeze’ with the installers.  They were more interested in knowing about the fish that Bill had caught at his cabin up north than whether or not everything was perfect in the shop at 10:00AM.  The Packers upcoming football season took precedence over the placement of fixtures.  In Wisconsin Aaron Rodgers is way more important than Michael Kors.

I had forgotten the most important rule of customer service – Don’t treat people the way you want to be treated – Treat them the way they want to be treated.  Bill and his ‘crew’ remembered that.

So who’s the Dumb-Dumb now? 

Peace,

Denis

Don’t Worry – Be Happy!

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I’m a natural-born worrier. My mom is a worrier. My grandpa (her dad) was a worrier. So I come from a long line of worriers. I’m sometimes frustrated that others (Deborah) don’t seem to worry at all. I actually worry that she’s not worrying enough! Okay so I’m a little neurotic – and I’m worried about that, too.  So you see worry ‘breeds’ more worry.

Don’t confuse my worrisome nature with fear. I’m not really afraid of much (except that some people don’t worry enough). But fear is different. I know that I will face heartache and disappointment in my life. I know that there will be great sadness at times. I realize that I can’t control ANYTHING except my response/reaction/acceptance of the shitty stuff that life sometimes deals. And I’m (mostly) okay with that. Prayer helps. So do loved ones. And the knowledge that we are basically equipped to handle most of life’s challenges.

But I worry about stupid stuff that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. AND I know that my worrying won’t help anyway. So why worry? Or as Deb suggests, “don’t worry so much”. I wish it were that easy – to “let go and let God'”. To “not sweat the small stuff”. To “relax”. It’s easier said than done. And of course, as I’ve said, I worry about worrying. Am I taking years off my life? Am I sapping the fun out of life’s little joyful moments because I’m worried about some foolish things? Probably.

I’m trying – really trying to be more relaxed. Starting today I’m going to not let inconsenquential stuff drive me so crazy. As God is my witness – I AM GOING TO BECOME CAREFREE. I’ll let others do the worrying for a change (maybe even for good?)

Of course right now I’m sitting in an airport terminal and a baby is crawling on the floor – YES, the filthy floor at the gate and the mother is oblivious to the harm she may be doing to this child. Did I mention that said baby is also putting her hands in her mouth? Fat little hands on filthy floor – fat little hands in mouth! Geez! I want to go ‘Purell’ myself after witnessing this. Hey lady, why not just lay your baby down on the public restroom floor? Plus there’s a guy with his shoes off! Big, gross, hairy feet – crawling baby. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit!

Holy crap – this not worrying thing is going to be harder than I thought.

Peace,

Denis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-diB65scQU&ob=av2e

Baby, Oh Baby!

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Our daughter Bess is due next weekend. Seems like we’ve waited a long time for Baby Number Two – and now all of sudden it’s time! I don’t why I have to be ready but I feel like I do.  And how exactly am I supposed to ready myself?  Third grandchild.  Second child of my daughter and son-in-law.  We’ve been down this road before.  We’re experienced.  And yet this morning I was praying for Bess and Baby and I remembered how excited we were when our third child was born. 

Bess is ready!

I’ll never forget the nurse in the hospital that thought Blake was our first child because we were so happy.  And how much her surprise at finding out he was our third disturbed me.  Oh sure, there’s some stuff we thought we knew but we didn’t know him and we hadn’t ever had three children  before.  And maybe it was just a little bit scary but it was wonderful!  How could we not be excited?

Bess is ready.  Travis is ready.  The nursery is ready.  Anna is as ready as a two year old can be (her going to Nana & Pawpaw’s suitcase is packed).  All necessary preparations have been made.  We’re all prepared.  But babies have a funny way of changing the rules.  They come when they’re ready.  They sometimes come with a roar.   They sometimes come with a whimper.  But Baby will come and be loved and our lives will be filled with more joy.

I’m out of town right now and I feel a little anxious about Baby arriving while I’m gone.  As if she or he needs me to be there.  I guess it’s selfish but I want to be there and see that face and meet that little person that will change our lives and win our hearts – yes it’s been done before but not like this and not with this little individual.  God continues to bless us.  I just want to be there to give thanks.

Here’s my prayer:

All loving God,

Hear my prayer for my daughter Bess who awaits the birth of her child.  She has cooperated with you in giving life.  Assist her as she prepares to give birth to her baby.  May she be filled with your peace and blessing so that she may bring her child into this world safely and in good health.

Amen

My prayer is also that all babies could be loved as much as I know this one will be.

Peace,

Denis

Brotherly Love

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This past weekend my nephew Dave married his love Laura.  It was a beautiful wedding and a fabulous family celebration!  Relatives I hadn’t seen in a while were in attendance and new friendships were formed with Laura’s family.  Phenomenal weather, beautiful ceremony, fun reception – all around great day!  Our granddaughter Charlise was the Flower Girl.  Of course Deb and I were proud and pleased to see her be part of the wedding ceremony.  And while my heart was over-flowing with emotions – my nephew getting married; my beautiful granddaughter; recollections of my own wedding (centuries ago) – I couldn’t help but feel a little sadness, too.  You see our son Tyson, Charlise’s father, wasn’t able to be with us on Saturday.  Tyson is in the Air Force and is currently stationed in Germany awaiting orders for Korea.  He’ll be home on leave in November but needless to say, he couldn’t be with us at Dave and Laura’s wedding.  So it was bittersweet watching his little girl walking down the aisle knowing that her Daddy was in Germany alone.  Such is the life of a military man – sacrifice.

Fortunately our daughter Bess, our son-in-law Travis, our son Blake and his girlfriend Julia were with us.  And each of them seemed to step in for Tyson when the need arose.  Before the wedding when Charlise was getting a little ‘antsy’ her Uncle Blake amused her and kept her ever-joyful.  Her Aunt Bess helped her with last minute adjustments to her dress/hair/flowers.  All of them doted on her and made her feel like the center of attention (and at times she seemed to be).  Between the wedding and reception our family along with my niece and her fiancé went to a local restaurant where Charlise was treated as a princess by all – even the wait staff.  She was beaming! 

Later while I was dancing with Charlise at the reception I noticed Bess and Travis and Blake and Julia all eagerly awaiting their turn to dance with her.  Her Aunt and Uncles were proxy Daddies on Saturday and Charlise never lacked for attention or love the entire day.  Did they do this for Charlise or Ty?  I’m sure that they didn’t give it that much thought.  It’s just what they do. Our kids (and the ones they love) have an extraordinary capacity for caring.  Debbie and I have made lots of mistakes (well mostly me) but one thing I am sure that we did right along the way was to teach our children how to love.  How to give.  How to care.  And on Saturday my heart nearly burst with pride for the way they ‘loved’, ‘cared for’ and ‘gave to’ Tyson in loving, caring and giving to his daughter.  He may not have been there to share in the joy of the day but he can rest assured that his siblings were there for him.  It’s just the way they’re made – from love.

Peace,

Denis

Self-inflicted Pain

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Last year I decided to “get in shape”. Now for the record I wasn’t actually out of shape because technically I had never been in shape. I liked being kind of soft and mushy and my solution to my ever-expanding waistline was brilliant: buy new clothes. But after a high blood pressure reading, some aches and pains and a general feeling of fatigue; I decided that I didn’t want to be fat, frumpy and fiftyish anymore.

So I embarked on my odyssey of self-improvement or as I prefer to call it – self-inflicted pain. I know that diet and exercise is more appealing when we refer to it as “a lifestyle change” but let’s not kid ourselves – it’s still DIET and EXERCISE. What’s particularly frustrating (to me anyway) is that it works. I wanted to take a magic pill or buy some fancy machine that would transform me into my vision of health and fitness. The infomercials on T.V. make it look so easy – hmmm, could it be that those ads are deceptive? What really helped me get kick-started was a “Biggest Loser” competition we had at work – I love to win stuff! So I started counting calories, making healthier food choices and began the dreaded exercise regime.

Turns out exercise isn’t that much fun. But I’ve learned to adjust my way of thinking and I usually start my day out on the treadmill. I have an hour of quiet time – sometimes I pray; often I listen to music via my iPod; and sometimes I just enjoy the peaceful silence (although my panting and gasping initially was a distraction). I give myself the morning for me – the fact that I’m walking has become incidental – I have reserved that time just for me. And that’s the beauty – it feels a little selfish and indulgent – and I like that!

BEFORE

As far as the DIET, I have just increased the good stuff and decreased the bad stuff. Again, pretty simple concept. I was fortunate enough to meet with a dietician and get some sound advice: DON’T DRINK YOUR CALORIES – FIBER IS YOUR FRIEND – EAT SMALLER PORTIONS – BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. And I love my new foods and I’ve learned that water really is God’s perfect beverage. So I guess it is “a life-style change” and it works. But I hate to admit that sometimes I have ‘doughnut dreams’.

I also joined a gym and I had a few sessions with a trainer named Jake (but after the first session I had another name for that little sadist). We worked on ‘my core’. Which was startling to me because I didn’t know that I possessed a core and I didn’t’ realize that ‘working’ on it would make me want to cry like a little girl and then throw up. Did I mention that I HATE Jake? Now I go to the gym a few days each week and I continue to work on my core and well as cardio and other stuff. I still give Jake the ‘stink-eye’ whenever I see him – that little jerk! But each day at the gym is a day that I’m not sitting on my bottom. So I guess it’s true – that you can either use it or lose it. I’m not power lifting or anything like that; I’m just hoping to hang on to what I’ve got – it seems that after 50 what doesn’t fall off – falls apart. I’m just trying to slow that natural progression.

AFTER

The good news: Diet and exercise works! I’ve lost 50 pounds. My blood pressure is great. My cholesterol is low. And I feel better than I have in years. So it seems that my self-inflicted pain has paid off. And my reward is that I can (maybe) look forward to a longer life.

Now I had better start thinking about making some changes on the inside – that’s where the real work is needed. More acceptance – less judgment. More tolerance – less prejudice. More joy – less regret. More love – less hate. This change won’t require self-inflicted pain. It should be the opposite. Surrendering to God’s love won’t be easy (for me) but the only painful part will be letting go of my need to be in control. This past year I transformed my body; it might take a little while longer to transform my soul but I’ve got an excellent trainer in Jesus…

My soul, be at rest in God alone, from whom comes my hope. Psalms 62:6

Peace,

Denis

Put Your Play Clothes On!

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Last week my two year old granddaughter Anna met me at the back door.  It had been a long and stressful day –unreasonable customers; blundering suppliers; disgruntled employees; disappointing profit margins; idiot commuters; and me!  Me: all serious and angry and full of spite.  And Anna: all smiles and giggles and full of joy.  I hadn’t even entered the house and she was there jumping up and down; excited and happy to see me.  What had I done to deserve such a welcome?  It didn’t matter.  Before I could scoop her up in my arms she asked me, “Pawpaw, you wanna put your play clothes on?”  Those words were music to my ears!

Who wouldn’t want to drop EVERYTHING (bad mood, shitty day, lousy traffic) and put their play clothes on?  Anna and I then ran to my room and while I changed my clothes something magical happened – I changed; I really changed.  I felt better instantly!  Anna didn’t care about profits or schedules or developmental deals.  She just wanted to play with her Pawpaw.  And so we did! 

I shed more than my business attire when I put on my play clothes.  I let go of my day.  And I was able to focus on what was really important – my loved ones.  I listened (really listened) to Anna.  She had so much to tell me about what she and her Nana had done that day.  And her happiness was contagious.  Soon I was happy, too.  I guess it took putting on my play clothes to see through the eyes of a two year old.  I thanked God right then and there for sending this little angel into my life.  Maybe she knew what I needed – when I couldn’t see it myself.

We went outside and watered flowers and she drank from the garden hose – which is very exotic when you’re a two year old.  We played with the dogs.  We laughed.  We ran around the backyard.  I got lots of kisses and hugs (and returned the favor, too).  And she told me that she loved me for no apparent reason. What a difference a change of clothes makes! It was really nothing remarkable, just simple fun with my granddaughter – which is what made it so special. 

So the next time you’re having a lousy day and your world is a little more than you can handle, I recommend that you “put your play clothes on”.  I’m willing to bet that you will change more than your clothes.

Peace,

Denis

The First Day

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On August 31, 2010 our granddaughter Charlise starts kindergarten.  She’s our first granddaughter, so she gets to do all the ‘firsts’.  Tomorrow is a big day for her and for us, too.  It seems like just yesterday that she was born.  Now she starts kindergarten.  She’s ready; we’re not.  She’s still our baby girl (and always will be).

But I’ve been thinking about ‘first days’ a lot lately: 

Charlise starts her first day of school at Central Elementary – it sounds so official.  Do I need to go there and make sure that the teachers and principal know how special she is?  I know that they will teach her.  But will they protect her?  Love her?  Care for her?  Will they know that she’s too precious to be considered “just another kindergartener”? 

My nephew David is getting married this weekend and he and Laura will soon have their ‘first day’ as husband and wife.  Do they understand what this all means (does anyone)?  Are they really prepared to love, honor and (I don’t know – do we still say “obey”)?   Will their ‘honeymoon’ last forever?  Is their life together going to be ‘The Excellent Adventure’ that marriage is meant to be?

My daughter and son-in-law are about to welcome a new baby into their home.  And his or her ‘first day’ will change EVERYTHING.  Bess is due in just a couple of weeks and right now the anticipation of a new baby is a little nerve-racking but the miracle of another new life makes it all worthwhile.  This baby’s ‘first day’ will be a cause for joy and celebration and will become this special little someone’s ‘birthday’ to be celebrated each year! 

All ready for her first day!

These ‘first days’ are only important because they mark the start of something bigger:  a new academic beginning; a new marriage; a new life.  ‘First days’ are full of emotion and joy and apprehension and unknown.  Imagine if each day was treated like a ‘first day’.  Think about how exciting your job would be if you looked at each day as a ‘first day’ – dressing up and having your picture taken before you ventured out.  Wonder, if you will, about how much better your marriage could be if you were as excited about rolling over in bed to kiss goodnight as you were on your wedding day.  What if you could get ‘butterflies in your stomach’ just thinking about sharing breakfast together?  And what if each day was celebrated as a ‘birthday’?  What kind of change in attitude might we experience if we thanked God each day for our life and the lives of those we love?  How different would we feel if we celebrated the miracle of life constantly – even the cranky middle-aged lives like mine?

Tomorrow will be Charlise’s ‘first day’ and I will be proud and happy for her and a little emotional.  There will probably be a special ‘first day’ breakfast before she leaves the house.  There will be excitment all day and lots to talk about when she gets home.  What fun!

I’m praying that I can be just as excited about coming to work tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll dress up and have Deb take my picture before I leave the house.  Who knows it could the ‘first day’ of my new attitude!

Peace,

Denis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWfZ5SZZ4xE&feature=fvw

“The Customer’s Always Right” – right?

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There’s an old adage that says, “The Customer’s Always Right”.  I grew up believing that.  And in retail stores, as in most businesses, customers ultimately pay the employees salaries. Without customers, there is no business!

Working from that premise I decided to take my complaint to The Store Manager.  The Store Manager is one of those lofty individuals that can say YES after other store employees, that have been programmed to do so, say NO.  So when I ask to “speak to the Store Manager” I’ve come to expect that my concern/complaint/issue will be given the proper solemn important attention that it deserves.  After all, MY PROBLEM is of the utmost significance to me, and therefore should be to The Store Manager as well.

Well that’s where I was wrong!  Let me give you a little background:  At issue is the fact that while still under warranty our television lost video and audio reception.  It was wrongly diagnosed twice by The BIG BOX STORE’s repair dude and the manufacturer’s Support Team and finally after more than 6 months of on-again off-again T.V. it was determined that the panel is bad (whatever that means?).  Of course now our television is no longer under warranty.  Had the correct problem been identified back in February, parts and repairs would have been covered.  Now we are looking at a $1,280.00 part plus labor costs of several hundred dollars!   

So I went to speak to The Store Manager to see what she could do to help me.  After waiting the better part of an hour (several other assistant managers and such tried to intercede on her behalf but I knew that my problem was likely out of their authority to resolve – so I waited) the Store Manager finally arrived clearly annoyed that I had insisted on speaking with only her.  Immediately her demeanor was combative and extremely rude.  When I asked her why she had kept me waiting so long, her response was, “You are not my boss and I don’t have to explain myself to you!” 

Wow!  I worked in retail years ago and that would have been cause for immediate termination ‘back in the day’ but this was THE STORE MANAGER – I guess things have changed.  Wowzer!  Needless to say, she did not appreciate my “rightness” and I am now dealing with her supervisor, and The Better Business Bureau, and The CEO of BIG BOX STORE and God only knows who else.

I’ve been assured, by a VP of BIG BOX Something or other, that EVERYTHING will be repaired at no cost to us, but I’m still waiting.  And I’m still waiting for my letter of apology from The Store Manager.  Hope hell doesn’t freeze over the day that arrives!

Is it so wrong to be right?

Peace,

Denis