At breakfast this morning I opened a cereal that I’ve never tried before. Especially when I am about to try a new product, I quickly peruse important information.
Normally, “Organic” is not a particular selling point for me. However, this cereal was free to me as well as free of what some might consider contaminants. Me? My 5-second rule is closer to a minute. Furthermore, if there’s a bit of grit stuck to whatever I dropped, it will help with tarter control. So, any assurance that no fertilizer was used on the corn in the cereal is, in my mind, no assurance that wild things did not defecate near the stalk these particular kernels came from.
Also, apparently a big selling point for this cereal was REAL Honey. Hold on there Bubba, y’all tellin’ me there’s some unethical bees out there makin’ fake honey? Besides, even if artificial honey was used, there’s twice as much cane sugar in this cereal as honey…according to the “Nutritional Notice” and ingredients. If I were a bee, I’d be organizing a protest swarm.
As I could not actually taste honey on the organically tasteless granola, I decided to supplement with honey from our cupboard. It’s good to know that the bee-union has total control of where their workers forage. I was squeezing out Pure Clover Honey.
Back in my teen years, I was an apiculturist—Bee Keeper. To have productive hives we put no restrictions on the plants our bees harvested nectar from. To be honest, they pretty much ignored “get away from me”, so a sign on the hive “Clover Only” would be fruitless — figuratively, but certainly not in the comb honey.
One of our neighbors has a half dozen hives. She advertises her honey is “Goldenrod”. Nice marketing word. The fact that her honey is certainly golden in color further entices buyers to trust in that authenticity. I did mention that her hives are in my neighborhood, didn’t I? I’m not about to sue her for false advertising, but do wonder what her bees do from thaw to September.
Regardless of whether she removed all of the Spring and Summer honey just before Goldenrod blooms, I am quite sure I’ve seen her bees on my Russian Sage. Wow…think about that marketing ploy. Sage flavored Goldenrod. Furthermore, from my youthful experience and current knowledge of the plants in our neighborhood, theirs is not nearly enough Goldenrod nearby for a bee keeper to harvest several quarts of even “mostly Goldenrod.”
With all of this in mind and you still trust “Truth in Advertising”, let me bee clear. Bees do not read. Bees do not produce PURE anything and it is all REAL to them. They cannot taste or spit out nectar that’s not Organic. Therefore, forget the labels and enjoy the best sweetener Naturally produced.
Ouch…oooh, that doesn’t feel good. I think I’ve pulled an index finger muscle. Oh, no…maybe I’ve got mouse-click-induced carpal tunnel. It is not surprising considering I’ve clicked my way through about a dozen on-line surveys this week. By golly, one of these days, I’m gonna win a $1000 gift card. I wonder if it will be redeemable for a wrist brace.
It seems like almost every retailer now has a link to a survey on their receipt. Some have instant coupons, but most entice you to their survey with a chance to win. Beats me why I sucker for that 1-in-a-bazillion chance. But then, there really isn’t any other good reason to do it.
I rarely take the survey to actually help the store improve. Generally, I only take the survey to be eligible for the sweepstakes. Did you know that you cannot participate in any of these sweepstakes where they are prohibited by law? Darn, that takes most of the fun out of it.
Oh, and don’t forget the carte blanche permissiveness of most sweepstakes: No purchase necessary. Seriously? Now you tell me, where can I get postage stamps without purchasing them? Yup, you can ONLY enter the sweepstakes two ways. On-line, with a valid “purchase receipt” …or by mail, if you don’t make a purchase at the sweepstake sponsor’s store. Last I knew, the postman will not deliver an entry which has no purchased postage stamp on the envelope.
In case you have not read any sweepstake rules lately—and most of them are boilerplate—here’s a couple which I believe are extremely important.
You must be 18 years, or older, to enter. Oh, but wait…if you are, in fact, under 18, and happen to win a sweepstake prize, your mom can sign your “affidavit of eligibility.” Excuse me? I’d have to do more research to be sure, but this sounds like it’s bordering on prohibited by law in most jurisdictions of the United States.
Reading the rules further, I find the ultimate, superfluous, caveat. If for any reason, including but not limited to, misdirected, mutilated, unintelligible, written, telephone, or electronic communication; hardware or software program failure; network or computer malfunction …or for that matter…failure or difficulties of any kind; your entry will be declared invalid. Whoa, hold it there! Ya mean, if y’all don’t get my entry, cain’t read it, or it mysteriously rockets into cyberspace, it taint no good?
Oh, yeah, and “Any prize notification returned as ‘undeliverable’ may result in forfeiture.” May result in forfeiture? Hmmm, summarizing: A 16-year-old, running from the law with no forwarding address who tosses their entry in the gutter, may not win?
With all of this in mind, you might imagine that I often succumb to filling out the surveys rather flippantly. In addition to the aforementioned superfluous rules, some of the questions within the survey itself are hardly applicable to most of my shopping experiences. Here are some thoughts that reverberated in my skull while filling out a particular retailer’s survey.
How would you rate your overall shopping experience? Hmm, how to answer this rather limited question? I didn’t go into the store to buy overalls, only a tube of glue. Even if I did want clothing, what’s with the gradient of choices between 1 and 5? All they needed were two options…succeeded or failed. You know what? If they really wanted a valid survey, they should give out receipts for failed shopping ventures. Yeah, the greeter could hand out an Exit Interview form saying “good bye” to empty-handed shoppers at departure. “Sorry you couldn’t find anything to buy, but here’s a dissatisfaction receipt with a chance to win a gift card.”
Was there a sufficient selection for you to choose from? I obviously bought the item I was shopping for, so apparently the store having one in stock was sufficient. And again, why five choices from which to choose—5, being Highly Satisfied…1, Not Satisfied. I have always done better with true/false tests than multiple choice. Either I am or am not satisfied. Furthermore, by virtue of the fact that I’m taking this survey on-line, the question is moot. I bought something that resulted in me getting the coded receipt to access this survey, so the selection had to be sufficient.
Was the merchandise arranged in a way that made it fun to shop? Fun? I went to buy a tube of glue. Though I use glue in a well ventilated room, I suppose someone who sniffs glue for “fun” would likely rate this question a lot higher than I did if the store would have some bags and glue samples in a private sniffing room. That’s just not going to happen though. Even a long-since-teenaged geezer like me has to validate my age before the self-checkout will allow my purchase of glue…and it better not be open.
How would you rate the price-to-value of the item(s) purchased? A tube of glue? When was the last time you comparison shopped for glue? Besides, how could I be sure of its value this soon after purchase?
Considering your checkout experience, was the employee considerate of your time (1, extremely pleased to 5, unsatisfactory)? Oh, boy, that’s really not so tough to choose between 1 and 5. I mean, a “5” would probably be they scanned the glue and tossed it to me. Conversely, I’d surely rate it a “1” if they read the infinitesimally small print, warning label to me. The best and worst are relatively easy.
But how do you know if it’s a “2,” “3” or a “4” when they ask if I want a bag or not. There are so many ramifications to accepting a bag. My contemplation over whales, recycling and ozone alone, can usurp lots of my valuable time. It’s a very quick slide from a “2” to a “4” rating.
But, the most fun for me is the demographic questions at the end of the survey. I like to skew the marketing profile. For one of the surveys I submitted this week, I checked that I was single, had 12 children under the age of 18 and an income under $15,000.
Hmmm, now that I think about it, answering like that probably ruined my chances at the $1000 gift card.
First Disclosure: I would like to get just ONE order for one of my “Laughing…” books as a result of my Friday Frivolity blogs. I’ve been blogging stories for almost 5 years and have not had even one measly order for a book from a blog. I’m going to discontinue this blog very soon and would like to finally get an order. I’ll even offer free shipping…just comment to this story with your e-address.
Second Disclosure: This particular story, “Full Disclosure” is from Laughing While Shopping
Ever read the small print on a package? It’s getting more distressing for me as the years wear on. Oh sure, it’s troubling because of my diminishing eyesight, but also from diminished capacity to understand the rationale for much of the small print. Such was certainly the case when we left a major home improvement store.
It wasn’t that long ago that I’d go buy bolts and nuts out of bins. Yup, I’m old enough to remember hardware stores on the corner. Those neighborhood proprietors would stock fasteners in ceiling-to-floor walls of drawers, drop-down wooden bins or stave & hoop barrels. If you are too young to remember those barrels, they’re arched slats held together by steel bands—mostly used today as decorative planters spilling dirt and bloom into the yard. Back in my adolescent years, my grandpa often took me to the hardware store where he’d grab what he needed from a barrel or bin, toss it in a paper sack and proceed to the cashier.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all that long ago and there still are a few hometown hardware stores. However, I think those days of buy only what you need are gone. Today, such hardware items are in baggies, shrink wrap or blister packs. Yesterday…not yesteryear…Sue and I bought a pair of brass machine screws and two plastic nuts and washers all neatly packaged in a plastic bag.
I was happy we found exactly what I needed. Often the marketing of such items is seemingly packaged with the intent of overstocking. Not their shelves…my storage bins! Nevertheless, most of my family would testify that overstocking my storage bins is my delight, not my displeasure.
But, I digress from my story. These were packaged precisely sufficient for my need.
I guess Sue was bored as we drove away. In itself, that’s quite disparaging as to my ability to entertain her. Aside from that, she likes to read. First she read the shocking news that I had not purchased a toy. Ahhhh, more precisely, the BAG which contained the nuts and bolts was not a toy.
Aw, gee whiz, …and to think I almost bought a dozen bolts just to get enough bags to fill with beans for my bean-bag-toss game. Oh rats, they went on to nix the thought of refilling the bag in Warning Number 2. Once I had removed the hardware, I could not refill the bag with anything. No beans, no rice, no dinner leftovers…nothin’.
Before I could recover from this no recycle for personal use caveat, Sue continued with even more distressing, specifically-stated cautions. Would you believe we can’t use the empty bag in a baby’s crib? For what purpose? You’d have to staple a hundred of them together to make a sheet. Of course… there was at least some temptation…the packaging was a delightful baby blue.
Oh, but there’s more about this simple little purchase that annoyed me. I fully realize the diverse ethnicity in the United States has caused lots of things today to be printed in multiple languages. That fact doesn’t trouble me. Predictably, the package’s Identifications, Features, and Instructions were in both English and Spanish. No big deal.
What, then, was so abrasive to me? The Warnings, which I just highlighted as foolishness, were only in English. Apparently the packagers figured only Anglo-Saxon descendants would be dumb enough to toss all their scrap plastic bags into a kid’s playpen.
Hold on…, don’t toss this book in the basket just yet. The worst is yet to come. As Sue neared the end of her perusal of the bag, she exclaimed: “Ohhhh… My… Goodness! Ed, we’ve got to keep this bag.”
You do remember that I mentioned Sue reading thou shalt not keep the bag for any purpose. I will testify without duress, Sue is not predisposed to disobedience. Okay …alright …if the truth be known, she does indeed tear off all the “Do Not Remove under penalty of law” tags. However, such actions are mitigated by trying to satisfy some residual teenage rebellious attitude still swirling in her head. But, why would she suggest we save a tiny, plastic, perforated, non-zip-lock baggie in flagrant violation of regulations clearly stipulated…in ENGLISH? The answer lies in the producer: Keeney Mfg. Co.
For those of you who are not aware of Sue’s heritage, she began life as a Keeney.
See, I told you the implications of small print are often very perplexing to me.
QUESTION OF THE DAY
Do carnivores prey before they eat?
Eat. That’s one of my happiest pastimes. Especially dessert. What a treat it was when my granddaughter, Tara, got a job at the Great American Cookie Company. The thought of Tara fixing a special cookie for me was akin to the Cookie Monster hearing that Sesame Street was to have a ribbon-cutting for a Great American Cookie store.
Great American Cookie — You know…it’s one of those mall stores you don’t have to walk inside to shop. As you stroll by, they entice you with a large array of the usual four-bite confectioneries plus a delectable variety of HUGE, cake-like decorated sugar disks.
I generally am not tempted by cookie-store offerings, but the thought of sharing one of my granddaughter’s artistic masterpieces with our friends was alluring. And when we got to the store, I must admit they looked quite tantalizing. “I think I’d like to buy that one,” I mentioned, pointing to the two-footer Tara had iced that afternoon.
“You can’t buy that one, Grandpa,” Tara said. “It’s made of rubber.”
“Rubber! I can’t believe it. That cookie’s actually made of rubber?”
“What did you think it was made of?”
Looking up at the sign, “Let’s see… GREAT AMERICAN COOKIE… how about sugar!”
“Gee, Grandpa, if they were made of cookie dough, we couldn’t re-use them.”
Pacing along the display, I mumbled my disappointment…if not some skepticism of the forthrightness of my granddaughter. “Rubber cookies. I’m shocked. I’m appalled. My own granddaughter, perpetrating a hoax on the public.” My murmuring intensified to intelligible clarity. “The public should be made aware of this deception. You should change your sign to Great American Rubber.”
“Grandpa, they’re just for display. Nobody buys these showcase cookies.”
“It’s no wonder; they’re rubber. And, I’ll bet the unsuspecting public doesn’t know it.”
======================== If you want to read the rest of the story and find out how I “informed” the public, go to ButtonwoodPress.com and buy Laughing while Shopping
I had a prescription to pick up. The waiting line formed along a wall of medical devices. In the past several years, I have not had occasion to pause in the aisle of thermometers. With all the advancements in medical fields, I should not have been at all surprised with what was displayed.
But I was. There must have been twenty different “In the Ear” thermo-sensors. Wow…you must choose between thermometers which accurately record temperatures within 2 seconds, 8, 20, 30 or 60 seconds and one that did not promise any time duration. Could have been stick it in your ear ‘til tomorrow, I’m not sure.
In the area of children’s thermometers was a Quack Quack or Woof Woof digitals. I believe they “talk” to the kids. I didn’t have my microscopic reading glasses so I can only surmise the Dog’s head only gives a whimper with a low grade temp…yips gently at 101°…barks loudly at 103°…and howls like a hysterical hyena at 104° and up.
Another one I needed a magnifier to read the fine print was a “Basal”. From the pictures, I’d surmise you could stick this one in almost any orifice of the human body. I was able to read the RED LETTER WARNING: Clean thoroughly after rectal use. Clean? More like, please buy an autoclave sterilizer before oral use.
And speaking of oral use, one package declared Mercury Free. Really? Is it necessary to advertise “mercury free”? It’s been 15 years since mercury filled thermometers have been banned in Michigan. But who wants even a mercury free one to stick in your mouth. I spotted some Non-contact beauties. You just aim them at your forehead or temple.
It took a lot of years to develop these for home use. I saw them in use on the Enterprise many years ago. And, in addition to temps, those babies scanned for all diseases known to man, Klingons and probably even Orkians. Keep watch during next year’s Cyborg Monday for Tricorders under Ten-grand.
I will say that one of the varieties I saw had little practical use as far as I was concerned. It boasted about being battery-free…solar powered. What are you gonna do drag your sick child outside to get a good reading?
Almost every variety of thermometer I spotted had some variance of regular, touch/touch free, infrared, or premium. Oh, boy…Premium for one brand included Fever Insight along with Smart Phone Wireless Technology. Would you believe it dials 911 if the reading is over 108°. No?
Well, then, would you believe it sends your phone a message for any temps over a hundred-five? Not that either?
How ‘bout you get a different ring tone with each degree over a 98.6?
At the very least, you’ll get a loud siren on your phone when your child sticks it in their ear.