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Thursday, March 27, 2014

Stretching the Billion Dollar Rubber Band

Meet the poster child for the One Percent. Sheldon Adelson makes $32 million … a day.

Sheldon made his money in computers, casinos, and gambling. He’s the chairman and CEO of the Las Vegas Sands Corporation. Some might describe him as a college dropout (City College of New York) who amassed his billions from the moral weakness of his fellow men. Others might call him a shrewd businessman. Or maybe he just had gambler’s luck.

Sheldon’s hobbies include journalism (as a boy, he sold newspapers in Boston; today, he owns the Israeli daily newspaper Israel HaYom); computers (in the late 1970s, he and his partners developed COMDEX, the computer industry trade show); and politics (he spent more than $92 million to help GOP candidates in the 2012 elections).

While $92 million buys a lot of campaign ads, to Sheldon, that’s a drop in the bucket. His net worth is $40.8 billion. If Sheldon Adelson were a country, his net worth would place him at No. 95 out of 183 on the International Monetary Fund’s list of nations ranked by Gross Domestic Product. That’s right, one man, Sheldon Adelson, is worth more than half of the world’s nations.

Now, Sheldon wants to use his money and influence to elect politicians who will support his proposed ban on Internet gambling. GOP candidates are scrambling to announce their disgust at the immoral practice of online gambling, as Sheldon has. Oddly, none, including Sheldon, have condemned offline gambling… an oversight that certainly has nothing to do with the fact that Sheldon owns a worldwide network of casinos.

We must ask two questions: First, Is it good for society for one man to wield so much power and influence that will affect the lives of all of us? Regardless of whether such an individual is well-intentioned or self-serving, should any single person have such power? “Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely,” as Machiavelli’s aphorism goes.

Second, Is it right for one individual to rake in $32 million a day – or $4 million per hour during the work day —  while millions of hard-working people struggle to pay their bills, often choosing between food and medicine? No one is begrudging Sheldon’s success; his Horatio Alger story of having made himself into one of the world’s richest men is as admirable as it is remarkable. But, as Jacobean poet and preacher John Donne (1572-1631) wrote, “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” Every individual is part of something greater than himself – society.

We are all interconnected, as spokes to the hub of society. Like the rest of the One Percenters, Sheldon didn't grow his money on trees; it came to him, through the paychecks of ordinary, middle class men and women. Inside each of his casinos, members of society spent money gambling, served each other drinks and meals, performed as entertainers, and provided the utilities to keep the bright casino lights turned on.

Pierre-Joseph Proudhon (1809–1865), a French politician and philosopher, wrote: “The social contract is an agreement of man with man; an agreement from which must result what we call society.” The social contract maintains a balance among members of an interdependent society. Like a rubber band, the contract may be stretched but its elasticity is finite. When the minimum wage worker earns $7.25 an hour while One Percenters like Sheldon Adelson earn $4 million during the same hour, the social contract is precariously out of balance. And we all know what happens when a rubber band is stretched too far.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Time to Pull the Plug on Comcast

Comcast Cable has the worst customer service for Internet subscribers and the second worst customer service for cable TV viewers. Not content to be No. 2 in lousy customer treatment, Comcast is trying hard to be Number One when it comes to being, as spoofed in this NSFW video , the company whose customer service motto is “We Don’t Give a F—k”. In 2013, the American Customer Satisfaction Index (ACSI) surveyed 70,000 customers to come to that conclusion. Comcast is also No. 2 on MSN Money’s “Customer Service Hall of Shame."

It took me only one experience. I’m going to tell you about my experience with Comcast because right now Comcast is seeking legal permission to merge with Time Warner Cable. Trust me, your cable customer service experience will not improve if the merger is allowed to create a monopolistic entity.

For months now, whenever I come home and turn on TV, the cable signal is frozen on whatever the last channel previously viewed was. I must then call Comcast, push all the right automated  response buttons, and finally agree with the pre-recorded voice to receive a “refresh signal”. This resets my cable converter and unfreezes my channels… after a 30-minute wait. So, after the TV show I wished to see has ended, I’m now free to tune in to that channel.

I finally talked to a live Comcast representative – in the Philippines, of course, because with U.S. unemployment rampant, Comcast would rather pay wages to overseas workers. Comcast could afford to pay its CEO Brian L. Roberts $29.1 million last year, according the company’s 2013 proxy statement, but it is more frugal with its pay when it comes to hiring customer service reps, preferring to outsource those jobs.

“Jackie”, my Filipino liaison with Comcast, promised to send a new cable box to resolve the problem on Feb. 22. I read her the model number. “It’s a RNG150N.” Of course, when the converter arrived on Feb. 28 and bore no resemblance to my current cable box, I checked the model number and found Comcast had sent me a RNG100. I called Comcast and reached “Kellie” in the Philippines. Before she would assist me, she insisted on learning my name, phone number, address, and Social Security number. I told her I don’t give out my Social Security number to anyone, especially not to strangers in other countries speaking over my cell phone, but that I could give her my Comcast account number. That was when “Kellie” hung up on me.

My next phone call to Comcast was to complain about a Comcast representative hanging up on a Comcast customer of more than 25 years standing. Business Rule No. 1: When a customer has given you money every month for more than a quarter of a century, do not hang up on him. Especially not if he is a writer with a syndicated worldwide audience. Or to paraphrase Matt Smith in this Doctor Who clip :

“Oh, big, big mistake, really huge. Didn't anyone ever tell you there's one thing you never do, if you're smart, if you value your continued existence, if you have any plans about seeing tomorrow, there's one person you never, ever hang up on:  me.”

I called Comcast back and spoke to “Eva”. Funny how everyone at Comcast has a Filipino accent attached to an Anglicized name. I suppose that is to distract our attention from the fact our phone calls are being routed overseas to cheap foreign labor by U.S. corporation Comcast while U.S. citizens go jobless. I ponder whether we could outsource Comcast CEO Brian L. Roberts’ job to the Philippines, too, and use his $29.1 million compensation package to hire American workers, while I wait on terminal hold. “Eva” promises to send the correct model converter box.

On March 7, the new box arrived. It was a Model RNG150. Not an RNG150N. That might explain why I could not access Infinity on Demand, HBO on Demand, and the picture was not in High Definition and did not fit the screen. I stared at the growing stack of cable converter boxes, now numbering three, waiting to be shipped back to Comcast. It was like an episode of a bad TV sitcom… and also as close as I would get to one until my cable service was restored.

I called Comcast again, this time speaking to “Hadley”. Or “Hadleigh”. I’m not sure how she spelled it, not that it matters, since I doubt that was her true name at the Comcast call center in the Philippines, where Comcast does not have to pay employee benefits. “Hadleigh” said she would “escalate” the issue (tech speak for “I realize we’ve been pissing you off incessantly, this should placate you until the next round”). She set up an appointment for a Comcast service technician to arrive at my home between 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. on Saturday morning… because, let’s face it, what better to do at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning than wait for a Comcast repairman?

At 10:15 on Saturday morning, March 8, after waiting in vain for more than two hours, I called Comcast to find out where the promised repairman was. Since Comcast didn’t have the courtesy to phone and say he was running late, I asked. “When might I expect him?” John answered my call. He sounded American, and must have been, because he was far ruder than any of Comcast’s outsourced Filipinos. He told me my appointment had been rescheduled to March 17th. It would have been nice if someone at Comcast had told me that before I wasted my Saturday morning waiting in vain. No one likes being stood up. Of course, one would also think Comcast would ask me if I was available on the new, rescheduled date that was more than a week later… unless they weren't planning to show up then, either.

I asked to speak to a supervisor. John continued reading from his script. I interrupted and demanded to speak to a supervisor. John ignored me and continued to parrot the stock phrases from his Comcast Level I Tech script. I repeated my demand to speak to a supervisor, 12 more times… and each time John ignored me and droned on from his script. Finally, I said something John couldn’t ignore… I am a creative writer, after all. I won’t repeat it here, but trust me, the graphic imagery was so vivid that John will have nightmares and wet his bed until he’s forty trying to forget the image I instilled into the vapid wasteland that passes for his mind. And then, I hung up.

My neighbor suggested I contact Comcast’s billing department and seek some redress by way of a credit on the next month’s bill. On March 13, I spoke to Francis in Comcast’s billing department and explained my customer experience and still unresolved problem, including the fact that I now had three incorrect cable boxes piled up on my kitchen table. I did not think there was anything Comcast could do at this point that would surprise me.  Francis’ reply left me flabbergasted.

“There’s no way to assure a customer will get the correct model unless he goes to local store. We just write up the orders and some else fills them. But your local store keeps all the models in the back room.” 

“Excuse me?” I shook my head. “Let me repeat that, so I can be sure I understood what you said. You’re telling me that Comcast can’t be responsible for sending the correct unit to its customers and if the customer wants the right box, he has to take time off work and drive to the Comcast office during business hours?”

“Yes sir. Is there anything else I can help you with? At Comcast, we’re here to serve you.”

“That’s the problem,” I replied. “You’re there, while I’ve been waiting here for Comcast to show up.” I asked about receiving a credit, but Francis said, “Comcast doesn’t give credit for "inconvenience" only for weather-related outages.” I would have classified my ongoing experience as far more than an inconvenience. But perhaps she was referring to me; maybe customers are inconveniences to Comcast.


Your cable TV service is about to get worse. But there’s still time to stop the Comcast- Time Warner merger. Sign the petition at WhiteHouse.gov.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

A Sense of Entitlement

I've noticed the younger generation exhibits a sense of entitlement combined with a lack of accomplishment. They believe the world owes them, not only a living, but a lifestyle that includes a place to live (preferably rent-free); downloadable free books, music, and videos, regardless of copyright; and even free money. I gasp at the chutzpah (that's Yiddish for "balls") of some of these twenty-somethings, fresh out of school with no experience or record of achievements and accomplishments, who enter the workplace demanding a six-figure salary. Apparently, they believe they can be paid top dollar to learn on the job.

In New Jersey, a girl who, according to her father, left home when she turned 18 last October rather than abide by her parents' household rules is suing them. High School senior Rachel Canning wants the court to make her parents support her and pay for her college education. She doesn't want to live at home where she faces a curfew and chores, yet wants her Mom and Dad to pay her bills, even though she is now legally an adult.

Rachel is not unique in her sense of entitlement. Websites like Kickstarter have sprung up in response to this sentiment. The world owes you a living, so why not ask it directly for cash? Kickstarter's premise is basically: Make a pitch for strangers to fund your project and "reward" them with tokens, like a copy of the finished product. Hey, it's worth a try, just like the lottery, but I wouldn't feel a sense of entitlement to proceeds from either.

Not so, John Campbell, a self-published comic book artist in Chicago. Campbell launched a Kickstarter campaign asking strangers to pay for the publication of his book -- as opposed to the way most of us do it, by publishing the book and then selling it. Fair enough. He asked for $8,000. He got $51,615. You'd think he'd be happy. All he had to do was mail these generous strangers their promised copies of his comic book. Instead, he claims on his Kickstarter page, he shipped 3/4 of them and burned the rest. He even posted a video showing the bonfire. He explained, "For every message I receive about this book through e-mail, social media or any other means, I will burn another book." He said he "will not be refunding any more" preorders. Campbell added: "Be aware that each attempt to contact me about this book will individually result in the burning of a book until the books are gone."

Campbell explains his pyromania and philosophy of life: "I want direct funding for my living necessities. I want to establish relationships with a group of people who can pay for my baseline needs like food and rent. I am looking for people who do not feel they need to see any 'return' on their 'investment.' ... I do not need the support of anyone who thinks that I will deserve to eat and sleep only after I have fulfilled some standard they’ve chosen to hold me to. I am looking for people who believe that if you spend your life in a small room thinking, you deserve to live and breathe the same amount as someone who spends their life doing intense physical or mental labor, or who has money that 'makes money.'"

Well, John and Rachel and those of your generation who share your sense of entitlement combined with a lack of accomplishment, I'd like "direct funding for my living necessities" and generous strangers who will give me money without me having to earn it, too. It's been one of my lifelong fantasies, along with the blonde and the Lamborghini. But the world doesn't work that way. Your parents lied. There's no tooth fairy leaving money under your pillow and no altruistic Santa Claus shimmying down your chimney with a sack full of presents. Since they never told you, I will. Here's how life works: You go to school and study hard. You learn as much as you can. You get a job. You work hard and learn as much as you can from the more experienced workers around you. You continue to study, and work, and learn, for years or even decades. And then, one day, when you have a history of achievements and accomplishments to point to, then -- and only then-- do you deserve the sense of entitlement you already exude.

And sometimes -- if you're lucky -- the world will agree and reward you accordingly.

But sometimes not. And here's Lesson Number 2: Life is unfair. You can do all the right things and still end up screwed. Bad things happen to good people. You may feel miserable and even bitter, just as you now feel your sense of entitlement. The difference is, your sentiment will be deserved, even if not desired. You have a right to be bitter when life has not rewarded your hard work and a right to feel proud when it has acknowledged your achievements and accomplishments. But you don't have a right to a sense of entitlement without first having accomplished something in life to earn it.

Now excuse me, I have to shout at some kids on my lawn.