Terrible Analogies

Slaving away at work this past Saturday, snacking on a bag of Cracker Jacks, I suddenly became very thirsty. Placing iTunes on pause (thankfully silencing that damned Blue Monday cover song by Orgy), I trudged on over to the break room and purchased a carton of milk from the wheel-of-death©.  On my way back to my cubicle-of-death, I noticed the following:

You’ve got to be kidding me.  Does the Rock View milk company think I’m so stupid that they need to emblazon their product with detailed instructions on how to open a milk carton?  What sort of invalid is incapable of figuring out the obvious way to breach the otherwise impenetrable skin of these paperboard containers?

The more I thought about it, the more insulted I felt.  Next thing you know we’ll be finding signs listing in painful detail how to climb a set of stairs, bright stickers indicating how to operate a ketchup bottle, and sewn-on tags graphically displaying how to put on a pair of gloves.

Honestly, If we’re unfit enough to figure out how to open a milk carton, what makes them think we’re smart enough to know how to read, much less follow instructions?

Do these people honestly believe we’re idiots, unable to perform such a basic function in life?

Forgive me for this self-congratulatory post, but I wanted to share the fruits of our labor this weekend.  As promised in my Friday post, the wife and I spent some time on both Saturday and Sunday to seal the garage floor with epoxy.  This project was both easier and harder than I thought it would be, but was well worth the effort.  For your edification, here are a couple “before” pictures of our garage:

Ugly, I know.  It had to change.  There was no way I could continue to go through life knowing that our garage looked this pathetic.  

And so, after conversing with Karin about the sad state of our garage we jammed on down to the local Home Despot and picked up a couple cartons of Epoxy Shield.  Borrowing a power washer from my dad we got to work clearing out the few boxes sitting in one of the corners, hosed out the garage, then used the included cement cleaner from the kit and gave the entire floor a good scrub then a final rinse.  The entire process took just 90 minutes.  That was day one.  Easy peasy.

Day two, we taped out various parts of the wall and around the garage door hardware, then painted the side walls with hand brushes (which was the most difficult and time-consuming part of this job), eventually working our way to the floor and a hand roller attached to a broom handle.  This last piece was cake, and was actually quite enjoyable.  As I painted, Karin followed up with the decorative sprinkles.  This painting portion took just 2.5 hours to complete.  This is what our garage looks like now:

Ignore the tape along the bottom of the walls. As soon as the epoxy dries we'll remove it

The paint is still wet, casting bright reflections from the sun.

Oddly enough, as we were working on this project the neighbors kept coming by to see what was going on.  I have to admit, we now have the nicest looking (and cleanest!) garage in the neighborhood.  The next step: pick up a couple nice storage cabinets, placing them on a support system that will keep them 3-4 inches off of the ground to make cleaning of the garage easier.  Now, when we want to clean the garage, we can just hose it down and squeegee out the water.  Genius! 

Downside: we now have to wait two days before we can walk on it, and a week before we can park in our garage once again.  No biggie.  It’s a small price to pay for having a finished garage.

Unbeknownest to me, the wife responded to the folks at Michelina’s Budget Gourmet after they apparently read my initial post detailing the huge bug she found in her frozen dinner.  Michelina’s not only apologized for this unfortunate incident, they provided her with a check to refund the purchase price of this defective product and sent her coupons for five free entree meals.  Click  the letter to embiggen…  

It’s nice to see a company attempt to make amends, going so far as to having the Chairman himself sign the apology letter.  They’ve done what any reasonable company should, and for that we applaud them.  I’m sure there are countless suppliers from which they obtain their raw products, so it’s understandable that something such as our “bug incident” could slip past quality control.

Now, don’t get me wrong…we’re still quite disgusted by finding this bug in one of their products, but we’re not going to keep beating the drums of dispair for the simple reason that Michelina’s / Belliso Foods not only went out of their way to get in touch with us, but also honestly apologized without any prodding on our part, and made right on the situation.  

My initial post regarding this incident was to shame a faceless corporation, but after being in contact with them and seeing firsthand how they immediately tackle tough situations, taking the initiative to quickly resolve and correct deficiencies, and strive to ensure future incidents are not repeated, Belliso Foods is to be commended for making the best out of an unfortunate situation.

The wife feels much better about this, and thanks you for your multiple e-mails and your letter.  It’s obvious, though her communications with you, that you’re truly concerned about this incident, and that changes will be made to ensure that future situations will not occur.  

Lip service or not?  I’m sure, in the end, we’ll all find out.

Now, if only all other businesses followed their excellent example.

I must admit, I haven’t purchased a box of Cracker Jacks in quite some time.  This afternoon, while speeding through the self-checkout line of the supermarket with Monster in hand I was tempted by a display of snacks seductively stacked next to each register.  I couldn’t help myself.  I just had to buy a bag of Cracker Jacks.

What’s been bugging me isn’t the fact that I caved in so easily with this impulse purchase.  What I’m really irked about is the absolutely lame “prizes” that the good people at Frito-Lay are pawning off on us.  When I was a kid I remember getting cool prizes like water soluble tattoos, jokes books, and tiny plastic creatures.  Now, it seems, on the rare occasions when I purchase a bag, I’m always getting this freakin’ prize:

I’m hip to Abraham Lincoln, but enough already.  If I wanted a history lesson I would have paid attention in school.  What I want right now is a sugar rush and a pointless toy that presents a choking hazard to anyone under three.  I swear, you and the cereal companies have really been dropping the ball these past ten years with your weak “prizes”.  From now on I’m buying nothing but Total and Quaker Oats.  With these products I’ll know I won’t be getting a prize, but at least I won’t be disappointed if I unexpentantly dig out a miniature Cliff Notes of Mein Kampf or a used syringe infected with the Hantavirus.

I know, in the overall scheme of things, that this issue ranks right up there with taking Nickleback seriously and wobbly tables at Starbucks, but come on Frito-Lay…give us back our tiny magnifying glasses, snake tattoos, and plasticy doo-hickey thingies.

If you fail to comply I’m afraid I’ll be forced to switch my allegiances over to Screaming Yellow Zonkers.  You and I both know that we really don’t want it to come down to that.

I was stumbling through the aisles of the local grocery store this past weekend when I spied a product mascot that looked somehow…familiar:

I *know* I've seen this guy somewhere...

Of course! It's so obvious. Why hadn't I made the connection before?