Vote With Your Wallet

Let's hear it for good customer service!

OK, maybe that first line didn't grab you as a radical new concept. But I'm on a kick to reward companies that don't outsource their help desks to who-knows-where and have people who sound like they actually want to help you.

So, in that vein - let's hear it for newegg.com.

First - a disclaimer. I don't work for newegg. I don't know anyone who works there. I'm not getting a discount on my next order for writing this. I wouldn't even bother with a disclaimer, but a few years ago, someone in an online running forum asked about good GPS watches for running and I said I liked my Timex. Someone immediately posted that I obviously work for Timex. I didn't and don't.

If you don't order computer equipment or other technology products online, you may not have ever heard of newegg. But here's why I like this site: THEY GET IT!!

What do they get? The value of customer service. A simple concept, perhaps, but lost on many, many companies. If you have a problem, they fix it. Quickly and cheerfully. Not to mention creatively.

Here's an example: I placed an order for a few pairs of music player headphones and thought it would be a great opportunity to use a $25 gift card that I'd gotten.

The order came to $25.06. The order page took the gift card, but didn't give me the chance to enter another card to make up the difference. The order, of course, was rejected for insufficient funds on the card.

I activated the site's online chat help and was connected immediately to an agent. I told her the problem and she said - hmmm, how about I just take six cents off the order price and put it through again? That should work. It did work.

Understand that I'm not exulting about saving six cents. It's that she didn't give me the robo-answer of going back to the site, finding the product number, resubmitting the order, and jumping through a hoop of fire to use that gift card. I immediately got nice warm fuzzy feelings about newegg.com and will most certainly shop there again.

Maybe if we all decide to only patronize companies that consider your time and business valuable - we'll wipe out the companies that don't. Or get them to change. Vote with your wallet!

Get Over It, Dude!

"Let it go" is a sound piece of advice, often given to people who are trying to get past some frustrating situation and move forward.

Except sometimes, you just can't.

I know I can't. As noted in my prior blog, it's been two years since I departed Bloomberg Radio to return to CNBC. And the circumstances that led me to leave rankle me just as much today as they did the day I left.

Bloomberg LP in general is, shall we say, a quirky place. The eccentricities of the company, and the people who run it, have been well documented elsewhere. All I know is, despite that, while I was there, I wound up in THE perfect job for me, the one I'd always wanted. From 2001-2005, I anchored mornings with my good friends Connell McShane, now of Fox Business Network, and Ben Farnsworth, a New York legend on both radio and TV.

Since I was 8, I wanted to be on the radio. I was unwavering in this career goal. I decided early on to specialize in business because I liked the subject, and found to my delight that it was an advantage in an era when very few broadcasters specialized in that subject.

Despite Bloomberg's quirks, and an unorthodox approach to programming radio and television, I loved my job. I was good at it. Despite the frustrations surrounding those quirks, I would have been happy to keep doing it forever.

Except one day, they took it away.

Someone in power decided they didn't like my voice (they unfathomably decided this about Ben as well) and removed us from the show. From there, things quickly deteriorated to where by March 2006, I was vastly underemployed. I wrote, did brief reports, produced, helped others, but it just wasn't the same.

Thankfully, the wonderful people at CNBC were there to rescue me. I'd left there on excellent terms (see my blog about karma!) and had always kept in touch. I was offered the job as breaking news producer and gladly accepted. And now that I've been back there for two years, it seems like the home it's always been. In terms of the overall culture and the people, it was and still is the best place I've ever worked.

But I still can't get over the Bloomberg thing.

A good friend of mine told me "Dude" (yes, he actually used the word "dude") .. "don't let people live rent-free in your head."

He's right. I guess. But it feels as bad today as the day it happened.

Those who are on the air in radio and TV will always be subject to the whims of those who manage them. You have to accept that. It comes with the territory.

I'm lucky. I have a great job at a great place and - the frustrations of not doing much radio aside - consider myself to be quite fortunate.

But I don't know that I'll ever be totally at peace with this. I tell people that TV producer is what I do, but radio anchor is what I am. And I'll always believe that.

Various Anniversaries

This blogging thing is supposed to be, above all else, fun. And it is. Except when it starts to feel like an assignment with a deadline.

I was reminded of this a few days ago when my good friend and fellow blogger Wes Richards (http://wessays.blogspot.com) pointed out to me in an e-mail that as of today, it had been one month since my last blog post.

Wes is a prolific writer and blogger, and I've always been impressed that he's been able to keep up the quality as well as the quantity.

I've written broadcast news stories my entire adult life. I enjoy doing so. I rarely if ever have trouble coming up with them, and, I'm proud to say, they mostly match the high quality standards I set for myself.

As I point out in the "about me" section of this blog, I've rarely gotten the chance to just write for fun. And this blog IS great fun. When a thought strikes me and inspires me, the words just come. Since I'm not writing this blog for any boss and there's no money involved, I write when I feel like it and when I don't, I don't.

Except I'm starting to feel guilty about it.

I look at some of the blogs I've written, and I'm really proud of them. But I also remember the few days when I hadn't written in a while, and decided that I really should. Except that I had nothing of interest to say, and sat there starting at a blank screen. Blogger's block!

So, this one really is to explain myself, thank all my blog-readers (and you know who you are!), and to tell you that - while I hope that another month does NOT go by between posts - I'll only post when one of those inspiring thoughts strike me. After all, if I don't enjoy writing what I write, you won't enjoy reading it.

And since we're on the subject of anniversaries, it was exactly two years ago today that I told the folks at Bloomberg Radio I no longer wished to work for them. That was one of the most triumphant yet sad days of my life, and the subject for another day. And you won't have to wait a month for it!

Remembering Rick Nelson

People of a certain age (like those of us born in the 1950s) have fond memories of the Golden Age of Family Television. More specifically, the Golden Age of Television Families. The Andersons of "Father Knows Best". The Cleavers of "Leave It To Beaver". The Williamses of "Make Room For Daddy". And - the best of all - the Nelsons of "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet".

I was reminded of this on a vacation last week in the most incongruous of settings - a cruise ship. On board Royal Caribbean's Explorer of the Seas, one of the channels - for reasons I still haven't been able to fathom - showed nearly continuous episodes of "Ozzie and Harriet".

I'd completely forgotten how much I loved this show as a kid. Sure, the others were good - but I was fascinated by the idea that this was a real family, using their real names. Ozzie and Harriet were really married. And their names really WERE Ozzie and Harriet. Ricky and Dave were real brothers. Real life events like their marriages were incorporated into the show. It was reality television before anyone ever dreamed up that label.

Ricky was my favorite Nelson. As the youngest in MY family, I naturally related to him in that role. And damn, the boy had musical talent. Even after he grew older and became just plain "Rick", I always thought he was one cool cat.

Here's another reason Rick was cool: In 1977, he hosted a Saturday Night Live episode and appeared in a hilariously funny Twilight Zone-themed skit in which he played his former sitcom self trying to walk into his home - but kept finding himself in the houses of other 50s and 60s sitcom families. This was during an era in which he'd been trying to shed at least part of the "Ricky" period of his life, but was hip enough to know that this would make people laugh.

And I remember how badly I felt when I heard he'd died in a plane crash on New Year's Eve in 1985. One of my ABC Radio co-workers at the time, the late newscaster Tim O'Donnell, summed it up for many of us when he walked by my desk and said, "I know this will almost sound silly, but I feel really terrible about Ricky Nelson".

Over the years, I'd pretty much forgotten about all this, but the re-runs reminded me of how much fun that show - and that era of television - was. On another channel - not coincidentally - was a continuously running feature on Rick's twin sons, Matthew and Gunnar, who have played together for years and now incorporate many of their dad's songs into their act. In it, they describe how they started to miss him a whole lot less when they played his songs. It brought a tear to my eye. It really did.

Tomorrow, I'm taking out my "Best of Rick Nelson" CD and listening to it in the car on the way to work. TV and music were a huge part of my childhood, and adulthood as well. Rick played a big part. And he deserves a very belated thank you.

Let's Hear It For The Unsung Heroes

Do you have people in your office who do a great deal of valuable work and get very little credit for it? And I don't necessarily mean that they're unappreciated by their bosses and co-workers, although that can happen.

The thought first crystallized for me during a vacation last year. My wife and I go on a cruise each January, and when people hear that I work at CNBC, they often have comments or questions about the anchors or the programming. We met a lovely couple whom I'll call Bob and Gail, since those are, in fact, their names. One of Bob's first comments was that "whoever plays those sound effects during Squawk Box is great!".

If you watch Squawk Box on CNBC, you know what Bob meant. From flushing toilets to game show buzzers to clips from "Seinfeld" - if it's appropriate to the situation, it appears instantly, as if out of nowhere.

This doesn't happen by magic. We have an amazing audio technician named John who, as someone on the show commented, "must have 14 hands". He sits in a room by himself, just off the control room, and does a very difficult job very well for three consecutive hours. And no one in the viewing audience knows about him.

Well, at least one does. I told Bob all about John, and e-mailed John a note to tell him he had a big fan. And when I got back to work the following week, John sought me out to tell me how much he appreciated hearing that.

I suppose this situation is more pronounced in the TV business, because - after all - you only see the people who are on the air. What they do isn't easy by any means. But it also takes a lot of heavy lifting behind the scenes to make it work.

Squawk Box is a good and unique show largely because of its terrific anchors, Becky Quick, Joe Kernen, and Carl Quintanilla.

But many of the memorable moments come right from people like John, who are as creative and important in their own way as the people you actually get to see.

Let's hear it for the unsung heroes!

Breaking News: I Have The Internet, Too

I spend my workday at CNBC searching for (and dealing with) breaking news. We've even titled the desk where I sit the "Breaking News Desk", so you know we take it quite seriously. Bottom line: I know breaking news when I see it.

Or at least, I thought I did.

Apparently, there's a story I missed: only a few select people have access to the internet. They're the only ones who see all those wonderfully funny jokes that circulate around the world. They're the only ones who have seen those hilarious videos of cats driving cars, science experiments gone horribly awry, and of buses crashing through windows. And they get first crack at those wonderful e-mails which, if you forward to enough people, will bring peace, harmony, and a few million dollars to the recipients.

OK, I'm being sarcastic here.

We all know people who take everything they find remotely interesting on the internet and forward it to EVERYONE they know. And not just occasionally. They also love the mathematical marvel that we all know as the internet chain letter, usually topped with a plea to "send to everyone you know!".

To these people I have but one question: "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?????"

I get enough spam in my e-mail box. I don't want yours.

If you send me a chain letter, I will take one and only one action: hit the delete key. I really don't need the practice as I'm pretty good with that key, but if you insist on making me hit it, I will. If you say "please don't break the chain!", I'll think "then you shouldn't have sent this to me!".

If I receive any e-mail with more than one "FWD:" in the subject line, chances are it's going in the trash, unread.

If I get an e-mail with a few hundred recipients that's NOT an invitation to a party, it's going "poof"!

If you send me an e-mail that says "hilarious viewing", I guess you'll have to remain among the exclusive club of internet reviewers. I'm not viewing. I'm deleting.

I'm a very easygoing guy. Just ask anyone that knows me. But this kind of behavior makes my blood boil. I can't even imagine why anyone would think that they're the official internet monitors and that everyone they know needs to see everything THEY think is slightly interesting.

I'm not saying I've never enjoyed jokes or videos that are available on the internet. But I'll find them and enjoy them on my own time, in my own way.

So, if you want to e-mail me to say hi, no problem. If you want to forward me something you discovered in your exclusive tour of the internet, please think twice!

Not-So-Instant Karma

I'm a pretty lucky guy.

I have a great wife and family, a good job in a fun industry, and enough friends to keep me happy.

Why?

Karma.

Yes, I'm serious. At least in part.

I'm not particularly mystical, or spiritual. I've never meditated. The only time I went to a mountaintop seeking anything was on a hike during a trip to Vermont, and all I was seeking was some exercise and a nice lunch.

But I spent quite a bit of time this past week thinking about karma, as I hosted several college students at CNBC who were interested in spending a day and exploring possible careers in the media. They loved it. And so did I.

Why did I do this bit of good?

When I graduated from college in 1978, I wanted nothing more than a career in radio. In pursuit of that goal, I called a few dozen alumni of our radio station for Cornell students, WVBR-FM.

To a person, every single one took the time to talk to me and offer encouragement and advice. Several invited me to their workplaces. A few let me stay in their homes. It was an amazing feeling. I've never forgotten.

Over the years, I've had the chance to repay the favor. One of my former communications professors at Cornell brings a class of graduating seniors to New York City every year for a tour of various media outlets, and during my years at Bloomberg, I hosted a day for them.

This year, WVBR-FM reached out to alumni like myself for externship opportunities. I was thrilled when several of them expressed eagerness to follow me through my day at CNBC.

And you know what? Helping these students felt just as good - perhaps even better - than when I was helped as a graduating senior way back when. And it's fun to see your job through fresh, excited eyes.

Over the last 30 years, whenever anyone has asked for help in finding a job, I've helped. Success felt great even when I wasn't the job seeker.

This concept isn't just limited to the workplace.

When people ask if I can come over and fix their computers, I do it. I was a practicing tax preparer for years, and still do returns for my entire family. Whenever anyone asks for tax help, I give it.

My reward?

All the great things in life that I mention above. Do good, and good shall find you. It's happened too many times to be a coincidence.

A good friend who's now a high executive at a major media outfit was kind enough to serve as an advisor when I was negotiating the terms of my current job. When I wanted to send him a gift of some sort, he uttered these words to live by. "No need. Pay it forward."

I have. As often as I can.