Those of you in the Southwestern states may have been privy yesterday -- as we were -- to the "Taste the Fire" event at El Pollo Loco. Essentially, El Pollo Loco -- a Mexican restaurant chain that features grilled chicken -- was offering the world a free meal on April 28, 2009: two pieces of flame grilled chicken, two tortillas, and salsa for every person who walked through their doors from noon to 8 p.m.
I've been an El Pollo Loco fan for years and was especially pleased at the prospect of feeding my family there for free.
So yesterday I had Michelle pick me up from work so we could rush over to the nearest restaurant. We got there just after 5 p.m., and the line was already out the door. We parked, and took our place in line, and found we were surrounded by homeless people. I suppose that made sense, but it made me a little less sure that I'd done the right thing in making it a family outing.
The guy in front of us was especially chatty, perhaps partly explained by the fact that he reeked of alcohol. He seemed generally pleasant, though a bit less so when he volunteered information about things like his most recent arrest and what he deemed to be excessive bail ("I've never had bail set at $25,000 before") as well what he deemed to be excessive force by the "trolley cops" when they caught him without a ticket recently. [Meanwhile the family in front of this man felt the need to explain to my kids that they really were nice -- they'd only cursed and felt the need to flip off a few passing cars as we arrived because they'd been provoked.]
As we neared the inside area of the restaurant, the man in front of us did speak of Utah fondly and just how much he loves Mormons (this before he found out that we were Mormon). When Michelle noted that we were Mormon, he noted proudly that he'd read the "Mormon Bible" and even tried to recite a few passages he remembered. He spoke even more fondly of his wife of 11 months -- who was in and out of line while tending their things -- and he beemed to talk about the fact that they were married legally by a minister. The mostly one sided discussion made for an odd sort of kinship between us -- fellow people in line -- that I might've looked more gently upon if I hadn't been so caught up in what I felt was an increasing need to shield and protect my kids.
As we left it, the man at one point had decided to go to Utah in hopes of lower rent and a kinder general populous in Provo.
Ultimately, our turn came up in line. We got four of the aforementioned 2 pc. chicken meals for free, and even got suckered into buying $4 worth of sides. We decided against eating at the restaurant, opting instead for the comfort, privacy, and safety of our own home. The chicken and salsa were good -- they always are at El Pollo Loco. And, whatever might be said of the propiety of taking my wife and kids to the event and having them mingle in line with the folks we mingled with, we sure went home feeling more grateful that we even had a home to return to.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
How Far I've Fallen
It's mildly painful this evening to realize that it's April 16, meaning it's been 9 days since my birthday. I got sick in the afternoon on April 6 and then spent the rest of the week fighting off a fever and alternating positions between the couch and my bed. It was the kind of sick that I couldn't do much besides exist, and exisiting just for the sake of existing loses some of its charm after the first day or two. [I intermittently tried my hand at Dr. Mario on the Wii, though I couldn't focus enough to be competitive and ended up dropping 800 points in my rating at one point.]
About the best thing I can say about being sick last week was that Michelle wasn't -- though I still left her a bit overwhelmed.
As the flu left, we all decided to pass around a cold around our house, from which we're still suffering. I have vowed to give thanks every day hence that I'm not hacking up a lung, or having to listen to Michelle or one of my kids do the same. I'd like to think we'll be just about entirely on the mend by Saturday, especially now that I opted to splurge for a gallon of orange juice this evening.
Recovering physically is one thing. Over the years, though, I've noted that my chief difficulty with getting sick is that all of my good habits seem to fall by the wayside. For instance, it's been weeks since I've exercised [and I've been patting myself on the back just for walking to and from the trolley these last few days.] It's likewise been weeks since I've tried to regulate at all what I'm eating and how much. My scripture study has devolved into the few verses I hurriedly read before falling asleep, and the television or Wii easily and quickly dominate my free time. Alas, my Dr. Mario rating isn't getting any higher. And even if it was, who cares?
Tonight, I'm thinking I want my life back. [I want my hair back, too, but that's another story.] I don't think, though, that I'm strong enough to simply reclaim it tomorrow in its entirety. And that bugs me.
About the best thing I can say about being sick last week was that Michelle wasn't -- though I still left her a bit overwhelmed.
As the flu left, we all decided to pass around a cold around our house, from which we're still suffering. I have vowed to give thanks every day hence that I'm not hacking up a lung, or having to listen to Michelle or one of my kids do the same. I'd like to think we'll be just about entirely on the mend by Saturday, especially now that I opted to splurge for a gallon of orange juice this evening.
Recovering physically is one thing. Over the years, though, I've noted that my chief difficulty with getting sick is that all of my good habits seem to fall by the wayside. For instance, it's been weeks since I've exercised [and I've been patting myself on the back just for walking to and from the trolley these last few days.] It's likewise been weeks since I've tried to regulate at all what I'm eating and how much. My scripture study has devolved into the few verses I hurriedly read before falling asleep, and the television or Wii easily and quickly dominate my free time. Alas, my Dr. Mario rating isn't getting any higher. And even if it was, who cares?
Tonight, I'm thinking I want my life back. [I want my hair back, too, but that's another story.] I don't think, though, that I'm strong enough to simply reclaim it tomorrow in its entirety. And that bugs me.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Things You Do When You've Been At Home Sick All Week, Have A Few Moments of Lucidity, And Need A Break From Playing Dr. Mario
I sent this email moments ago to the Clearplay customer service department. For the uninitiated, Clearplay is a Utah based company that purports to offer a filtering technology that automatically mutes and skips the "bad" parts out of your DVDs, thus making them a bit more palatable to the more sensitive viewers [I count myself among them]. If you click one of the links on the side of my blog, you can read an article I published a few years ago on the technology. As you'll note below, however, I'm thus far not a fan.
To Whom It May Concern,
Last week I reached the last straw with Clearplay. Having recently purchased a brand new, latest model player, I figured I would finally be able to enjoy the moving viewing experience you tout so as to sell your players and your monthly subscriptions.
However, 15 minutes into the first movie, the filtering stopped working, or seemed to be misaligned so that my family and I were subject to all the things your filtering and DVD player were supposed to keep out. I called the next day and was instructed to upgrade the software, which I did. Yet the same filtering problems remained. I called back and was told I must have a defective player and that I'd need to send mine in to be replaced. "No need to worry," I was told by your customer service rep., "we'll pay for the shipping." I was told I would have an email with a shipping label in a few days, and then it would take me 2-3 weeks for a new player. To "compensate" me for my troubles, I was also told I'd be getting another 2 months membership for free.
Alas, no email with a shipping label ever came. Indeed, the only thing I've heard from you guys subsequent to my phone call now nearly two weeks ago was a message from a sales rep of yours, advising me that, while only one week in, my free membership was about to expire and that I should renew now for a special low rate.
This was not my first incident with your technology. Only the latest. Prior to this latest purchase, I purchased an older version of your player in December. It froze up constantly, and increasingly refused to read DVDs such that it became entirely worthless. When I talked to your reps about it, I was told that, tragically, the 007 model had about a 50% failure rate. The only solution offered for my troubles was for me to further purchase a two-year membership, which would "allow" your company to send me a new player [i.e. the one I just purchased], which I was told had only a 1% failure rate. It seemed like an odd thing at the time to be giving a sales pitch at the same time that the customer is complaining about, and the sales rep is admitting to, the fact that the technology was a worthless piece of junk.
While you continue to broadcast your accolades in your weekly newsletter, I would have it known that I am entirely unsatisifed with both your technology and your customer service. I ignored it for a time because I so desperately wanted it to work properly. However, my frustrations with both aspects of your company have now so boiled over, that I have resigned myself to at least no longer having to deal with the frustrations of owning one of your players. As such, I am returning it to Seagull Book.
My expectations at this point are that this email will probably fall on deaf ears, much as a previous, similar email seemed to, which email dealt with issues relating to my previous player. There is some part of me, though, that can't help but hope that Clearplay will finally rise to the level of its sales rhetoric and attempt to make whole an aggrieved customer. [And please note, by this I do not mean offering me a "discount" on an extended membership or a few months free of updated filters.] For what it's worth, if a meaningful effort is not made on your part, this bad taste in my mouth will ensure that I will be warning anyone who'll hear me to steer far clear of your company and your technology.
Sincerely,
Aaron Clark
To Whom It May Concern,
Last week I reached the last straw with Clearplay. Having recently purchased a brand new, latest model player, I figured I would finally be able to enjoy the moving viewing experience you tout so as to sell your players and your monthly subscriptions.
However, 15 minutes into the first movie, the filtering stopped working, or seemed to be misaligned so that my family and I were subject to all the things your filtering and DVD player were supposed to keep out. I called the next day and was instructed to upgrade the software, which I did. Yet the same filtering problems remained. I called back and was told I must have a defective player and that I'd need to send mine in to be replaced. "No need to worry," I was told by your customer service rep., "we'll pay for the shipping." I was told I would have an email with a shipping label in a few days, and then it would take me 2-3 weeks for a new player. To "compensate" me for my troubles, I was also told I'd be getting another 2 months membership for free.
Alas, no email with a shipping label ever came. Indeed, the only thing I've heard from you guys subsequent to my phone call now nearly two weeks ago was a message from a sales rep of yours, advising me that, while only one week in, my free membership was about to expire and that I should renew now for a special low rate.
This was not my first incident with your technology. Only the latest. Prior to this latest purchase, I purchased an older version of your player in December. It froze up constantly, and increasingly refused to read DVDs such that it became entirely worthless. When I talked to your reps about it, I was told that, tragically, the 007 model had about a 50% failure rate. The only solution offered for my troubles was for me to further purchase a two-year membership, which would "allow" your company to send me a new player [i.e. the one I just purchased], which I was told had only a 1% failure rate. It seemed like an odd thing at the time to be giving a sales pitch at the same time that the customer is complaining about, and the sales rep is admitting to, the fact that the technology was a worthless piece of junk.
While you continue to broadcast your accolades in your weekly newsletter, I would have it known that I am entirely unsatisifed with both your technology and your customer service. I ignored it for a time because I so desperately wanted it to work properly. However, my frustrations with both aspects of your company have now so boiled over, that I have resigned myself to at least no longer having to deal with the frustrations of owning one of your players. As such, I am returning it to Seagull Book.
My expectations at this point are that this email will probably fall on deaf ears, much as a previous, similar email seemed to, which email dealt with issues relating to my previous player. There is some part of me, though, that can't help but hope that Clearplay will finally rise to the level of its sales rhetoric and attempt to make whole an aggrieved customer. [And please note, by this I do not mean offering me a "discount" on an extended membership or a few months free of updated filters.] For what it's worth, if a meaningful effort is not made on your part, this bad taste in my mouth will ensure that I will be warning anyone who'll hear me to steer far clear of your company and your technology.
Sincerely,
Aaron Clark
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