The Wizard of Osborne

A letter from this blog to its author

Dear Wizard,

Where are you?  I've called and paged and emailed and sent text messages and left voice mails and twittered and...you're nowhere to be found.  You promised to redesign me on New Year's day.  New colors.  New header graphic.  You promised to start writing more frequently.  But what have I gotten so far?  Bupkus!  Nada!  Zippo! 

You've let me down.  I'm not sure I have the energy to sustain this one-sided relationship anymore.  (sniff)  So you'd best do something about this situation before the end of the month or...or...WE'RE THROUGH!

Yours,
thewizardofosborne.typepad.com

The XF Cotillion (and associated experiences of an armchair car gal)

It’s a truly rare event for most of us in this world to see a new car introduced to society before it’s available to the masses. Sure, you read about them in car magazines and see spy shots on blogs, but nothing compares to making a hand-on-leather-and-metal, in-person acquaintance. This past week, I got to do just that. Jaguar held a preview party for its brand spanking new XF in the lobby of the peculiarly angular Hamilton building at the Denver Art Museum…and I had a ticket.

Since I’ve never been to the Hamilton building, nor have I ever been to the 4-wheeled version of a cotillion, I had no idea what to expect. So, with open eyes, a curious mind, and wearing a helmet to protect my head from the building’s pointy corners (no, not really…or did I?), I pushed my way through the Hamilton's revolving front door into automotive preview unknown. Once inside, I took a breath and paused to take it all in. To my right, a white (yes, white) Jag XF surrounded by an odd mix of 40+ men and a smattering of, um, arm-candyish women. (None of whom had abided by the “urban-chic” dress code mentioned on the event ticket, by the way. Everyone was more “suburban tacky” tempered by a skosh of “somewhat moneyed”, than urban chic.) To my left, a DJ was rockin’ some very, very loud rap music, which complemented the car and attendees perfectly, as you can certainly imagine. Straight ahead of me was the bar. I straightened the French cuffs on my urban chic shirt, tucked my urban chic handbag firmly under my arm, and made a bee-line for THE BAR.

With my urban chic shoes only a couple strides away from a glass of chardonnay, my progress was arrested by a 5’ 5”, 50+, teddy bear of a lady killer. He was a long time, loyal Jag owner, as were most of the people at the event, and was more interested in how I could’ve possibly arrived unattended than discussing the fine details of the XF. (Note that this would be a common theme for the rest of the evening.) Regardless, he broke the ice for my preview experience and sweetly ushered me into the unfamiliar (and ever so strangely uncomfortable) realm of Jag owners…who attend these sorts of things for the people, even more so than the car, according to my snuggly, diminutive, charming friend.

Before we proceed further with this story, I’d like to take some time out for a service announcement to Jaguar: Please identify your employees in some way at these events, such as to make it obvious to whom I should direct my questions when I’d like to learn more about the car at hand. It took me an unnecessarily long time to figure that out and would’ve allowed me to avoid chatting up those swingers that nice couple. Now back to your regularly scheduled blog post.

Once I found myself a Jag rep, convinced him that I was actually interested in the car and was not just milling around waiting for my husband/boyfriend/sugar daddy to order one for me, I did get some decent info. (I’ll write a separate post for all of that. And did I mention that the car was white?) After my cup had runneth over with XF factoids and I had grown weary of telling people that yes, I was there by myself, no, I did not currently drive a Jag, and yes, I actually was there because I was interested in the car, I quietly slipped away from the XF and out of the pointy Hamilton building back into the Denver night. Away from the throbbing music, away from the Jag lovers (who were mourning the lack of a leaping chrome cat on the hood of the XF), and away from my first automotive preview party. What a memorable ride.

I think both the XF and I made our society debuts that night. For the XF, it was a chance for Denver-area Jag aficionados to lay their eyes and hands on one of three revolutionary (for Jag) cars currently touring the country. For me, it was a chance for an armchair car gal to test her automotive mettle and see if she could swim upstream through a river of testosterone to extract the desired details about this (white, did I tell you it was white?) XF. And she did.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your right, you’ll not only see a new Jaguar XF, but an equally unique Greater North American High Desert Car Gal. She’s a rare species, though fortunately for her kind, quite hearty.  We’re not sure how many of her particular type exist, but consider yourselves lucky to have seen her in exceptional urban chic plumage (albeit in this man-made, unusually loud, and sharp-edged habitat). In the wild, you’d be lucky to even catch a glimpse, though a sighting is typically marked by rapidly departing taillights.

My Sweet #3

This past weekend I attended my second driving school with the BMW club in Pueblo, CO.  Words just cannot describe how much fun those events are.  I love hanging out with the guys and talkin' smack, I love seeing all of the fantastically beautiful and cool cars people bring, and I love flinging the big red bomb around the track.  ...and because of that, and because of how well she takes care of me when I screw up, I dedicate this post to her, my sweet #3.

An Ode to My Audi S4: How do I love thee, my sweet #3?

For barreling down the straightaway and braking hard and straight.

For accepting lousy downshifts, even when done too late.

For keeping all four on the track, once all the traction's gone.

In the game of brake-lift-turn-pause-gas, you're sadly just a pawn.

But I know you're having fun out there, showing the boys what you can do.

Passing in a blur of red, bidding slower cars adieu.

Running errands or on the track, being all that you can be.

Who could ask for a better car than my very sweet number 3.

      

Sniff...

2007 Hikes

Last year I dutifully recorded each hike I did, such that I could remember which hikes I had and hadn't enjoyed.  This year I have been woefully pathetic in recording my hikes, so we're going to remedy that right here and now folks.  Hang onto your Vasque boots and MontBell jackets.  Here are the hikes I've done this year and what I can still remember about each of them:

White Ranch - Rawhide Loop:  It's a nice loop, very easy, and with pretty views.  ...and that's about all I have to say about that.

Ceran St. Vrain: It starts out well shaded in a dense pine forest and runs along a creek.  Later, as you turn to head towards Miller Rocks, it gets a little exposed, but not too bad.  Definitely climb to the top of the rocks (fret not, this is easy) to get a really nice view of the surrounding peaks.

Royal Arch: This is a great short hike and excellent workout.  The trail is super crowded, but everyone is very friendly.  If you go on this hike, be sure to walk through the arch and out to the edge of the rocks, then look north.  The view is absolutely amazing.

Bear Peak: This one's a killer, folks.  It's a whole lot of up, but man, the views from the top are amazing.  Bring LOTS of water and snacks and be prepared for a solid ass-kickin'.  I've done this hike twice this season and both times were quite painful.  That said, sitting at the very top of the highest rock on Bear Peak is AWESOME.

Mt. Sanitas: (Sorry, no pics -- forgot the camera this trip.) Though the views from the top are excellent, this is a tough hike up (think an hour and some of climbing stairs) and is very exposed.   The trail is also very crowded, but if you're looking for a good workout that ends in a great view, give Mt. Sanitas a try.

Beaver Brook: I walked along this trail for about an hour and a half, most of which was spent next to a burbling brook (Beaver Brook, I imagine).  It was very easy and a nice, well shaded walk.  If you're looking for a destination hike, though, this isn't for you.  BUT, if you're looking for snakes, this hike is for you.  (I saw my first snake ever on this hike.  Smack in the middle of the trail.) 

Vail Mountain: Ride the gondola up, then walk your way around and down.  This is the second time I've hiked around Vail Mountain.  The views are good, there's good shade, and you always see several deer.

Lake Isabelle and Lake Isabelle Glacier: Hands down, my two favorite hikes.  (The hike to reach the glacier continues on from Lake Isabelle.)  The scenery is unmatched for the level of effort it takes to get there.  And not only are the hikes great, the drive to get there is wonderful too.  A couple of notes... I think Lake Isabelle is prettier earlier in the season when the lake is still high and there's snow.  BUT, I don't think you can do the Lake Isabelle Glacier hike until later in the season, because snow likely blocks the trail earlier in the season (well, at least for fair weather, novice hikers like me).  Also, the Long's Lake trailhead parking lot fills up around 7:30am on the weekends, so if you arrive after that, be prepared to park a ways away and walk.

Happy hiking!

The importance of customer service

I don't typically get too worked up about customer service at retail stores, I suppose because my expectations are so low that it's hard to dissatisfy me to the point of aggravation.  But after a morning full of feedback from happy Lijit customers, and knowing that providing good customer service just takes some creative effort and common sense, I had to write about the customer service experience we had today with Verizon.  (...and I hope this makes Todd feel like he's not the only one writing about bad customer service.)

My husband's BlackBerry recently went on the fritz -- it could still generate tones, but could no longer vibrate.  He'd received an email from Verizon saying that he was eligible to upgrade his phone, so this seemed the perfect time to head to the nearest Verizon store and pick up a shiny-new BlackBerry 8830.  They wanted $299 for the phone (after a $100 rebate and a 2-year contract renewal), but since my husband was due for an upgrade, we knew they'd give us an additional $100 off.  Seemed like a reasonable deal, so off we went. 

Well, as the lovely miss G. at the store on W. 120th Ave. in Broomfield explained, when my husband and I had combined our contracts back in '05, somehow my line had become the primary line on our account and only the primary line is eligible for the extra $100 off and if we tried to make my husband's line the primary line right now, we'd lose the $100 discount altogether.  I couldn't even try to give/gift/transfer my discount to him, even though I was going to be eligible for it myself in just a few days. 

After we fussed for a while, she said she'd "see what she could do" and went over to her computer.  She came back, gave us a bunch of useless data (not info mind you, just data) and said that there was nothing she or her manager could do.  She made that statement in a way that implied she'd spoken with her manager, but given that he was standing at another terminal and we never saw them exchange words, we're not sure how she knew that there was nothing he could do to help.  Sure, maybe Verizon retail employees are telepathic.  Or maybe they refer to their computer system as "their manager".  It's hard to tell.  After we explained to miss G. that this whole exchange was total nonsense and that her lack of helpfulness was strongly encouraging us to switch providers, she said, "Yes, you could do that."  We started heading towards the door.

What really sealed the deal on this particular experience was that just before we hit the door, my husband said to the (apparently telepathic) store manager, J., "This has been a terrible customer service experience.  Really terrible."  J. made no move to stop us, no attempt to try and salvage our experience, nothing.  He just uttered a weak, "I'm sorry," and that was it.  Wow.  As we got in the car we literally started to laugh about how fantastically bad our experience in that store had been.  It was absolutely appalling.

Since my husband still needed a new BlackBerry and we like Verizon's coverage, we decided to give them one last chance and headed up to the store at I-25 and Hwy 7.  We walked in and I explained to the sales person that we'd just had a horrible customer service experience at their Broomfield store and our fate with Verizon was now in his hands.  (No pressure.)  Intelligently, he immediately handed us over to his manager, B.  B. listened to our story, took about two seconds to come up with a totally reasonable solution that met our needs, and 30 some minutes later, my husband walked out with a brand new BlackBerry 8830.   

Nothing B. did was hard.  Nothing he did was something the first store couldn't do.  His solution didn't require any rocket science (so far as I could tell), just a little bit of creative effort and common sense.  Since I assume the first store could've been creative too and surely has some common sense tucked away somewhere in case of emergency, it seems that they must have actually chosen not to provide a good experience.  That's pretty sad.  Luckily for Verizon, we chose to give them a second chance.  You don't get many second chances, so choose to use your creative efforts and common sense to provide a good customer service experience.  It's totally worth it.

THE AWARD

I've spent a lot of time lately reflecting upon the "Most Improved Driver" award recently bestowed upon me at BMW's driving school in Pueblo, CO.   Having received it continues to make me completely giddy, much to my family's, friends', and colleagues' dismay, but I don't care.  How many times in your adult life do you get awards?  Awards you can hold and sit on your desk?  Awards that look so pointy-sharp that you worry about accidentally cutting yourself on them?  Not too many, I'd say.  So when you do win an award, the event should be celebrated appropriately.

After considerable thought, I have decided the appropriate way to celebrate this particular event is with haiku...

Prismatic Lucite
Monument to my talent
Light the perfect line

And oh yeah, don't get me wrong, I'm probably going to suck so badly at the next school that the instructors and corner workers are going to storm up to Louisville, bust into Lijit's offices, and rip this glorious plasticine statue away from me.  But at least for the time period between now and October, I'm going to be the "Most Improved Driver", and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it!!!

Cogito Ergo Zoom

Cogito Ergo Zoom -- "I think, therefore I go fast."  Automobile magazine used to use that tag line; I thought it a very appropriate title for this post.  I would generally consider myself a sentient being (though admittedly more so on some days than others).  As a sentient being, who also happens to drive a car capable doing fantastically wonderful things at high speeds, I frequently choose to drive fast.  Nothing too crazy, mind you, but being able to zip from point A to point B is far more entertaining than scooting, sauntering, moseying, or doing something otherwise slower than zipping between those two points.  But even though I've always considered myself a good driver, I've never really felt that I handled my car well at high speeds (i.e. with the appropriate control and finesse).  Then along came my savior, BMW's driving school in Pueblo, Colorado...

Fortunately, the BMW driving school in Pueblo is open to all makes and models, so I registered on the first day, then waited the agonizing three months until June 16th finally arrived. ...and oh, was June 16th in car # 16 a good day.  I can honestly say that I've never had more fun in my life.

            

In this driving school you spend the day alternating between classroom sessions, where they teach you cornering concepts and such, and track sessions, where you put everything you've learned into practice.  For me, the first track session was awful.  I didn't understand what to do and only made it around the course by the grace of God.  The second session was a little better, because what I'd learned in class and what I was feeling on the track finally started to click.  But the third session...ahhh, that third session...was really where it all came together.  I swapped to a new instructor (an instructor was in the car with you at all times on the track), whose teaching style better suited my learning style, and everything else from there on out is history.  Let's just say you're reading the blog of the person who won the "Most Improved Driver" award that day.  Oh yeah, baby, that was me.  I rocked it.

And as if that wasn't cool enough, I had the good fortune to spend June 16th with an absolutely awesome group of people, most of whom I'd never met before.  Many are driving school veterans and were more than willing to give thoughtful and valuable advice such as, "Keep the gas pedal ON THE FLOOR down the straightaway.  If it's not on the floor, PUSH IT TO THE FLOOR."  How can you go wrong with advice like that?

  

I think, therefore I go fast.  I think I would like to go to Pueblo again and go fast with all of my wonderful new friends.  See you guys in October.

(Photos courtesy Todd Vernon, Tom Higley, and Frank Amoroso.)

I've finally gotten my 15 minutes of fame

My lovely and witty "Evangelist" colleague at Lijit, Tara, is undertaking a project to profile each of Lijit's fantastic employees.  I feel very privileged that I got to be the first.  Check out my 15 minutes of blogosphere fame.

(And in case you're wondering after you read her post: 1) No, I don't regularly put my feet up on my desk.  I think that was the first time I've ever done that. 2) Yes, the second shot is staged.  I rarely look that serious. 3) Yes, I really do have that many Post-It notes stuck to various parts of my desk and keyboard on a regular basis. 4) Yes, I did design the eye-catching logo seen on my mousepad.)

I was raised by a pack of nerds

I don't have a post to go with this title yet, but it's something I'd like to write about someday.  My Mom is a college-level math teacher, my Dad has undergrad and master's degrees in electrical engineering (plus an MBA), and their group of friends (who I strangely hung around with a lot when I was in high school) consisted of an odd mix of folks who had all built their own experimental aircraft (and came from a variety of rather technical backgrounds). 

I know being raised by this pack of nerds shaped me in special (?) ways and made me who I am today.  For example, I am strangely comfortable sitting in meetings primarily attended by very technical guys, even when what's being discussed sounds to me like, "If we can regulate the flam-jam in such a way as to recombobulate the sendetertiary frimgigger, we'll be totally good to go." 

And as soon as I figure out where I want to go with all of this, I'll write more about it.

My car knows it's raining

I continue to be amazed by my 2006 Audi S4.  Tonight I realized that it's smarter than me, which is sad, though not surprising.

Since I bought this car used and somewhat on a whim, I hadn't done my typical gnat's-ass detailed research about all of its features, specs, etc.  So while I still knew far more than the salesman did about it, I didn't know the (typically embarrassing for my spouse) level of information I usually would pre-purchase.  As a result, some of the car's features have come as a bit of a -- fortunately pleasant -- surprise.

Take this evening, for example.  I was on my way home and it started to rain.  Magically, as if they knew it was raining, my windshield wipers began to sweep.  I thought, "Did I turn those on?" I was pretty sure I hadn't.  Once I reached my destination, determined to figure out whether or not I'd just lost my mind, I pulled out the manual and did a little reading.  Sure enough, if you leave the wipers in intermittent mode and they sense that it's raining, they'll run on their own, at a speed appropriate to the car's speed.  How fantastic is that???  Surely psychic wipers should be considered one of the great wonders of the world, right behind the Grand Canyon and four-cheese ravioli from the old Figlio's restaurant in Kansas City.

But it gets better!  (...for the car, at least.  Not so much for me.)  There's a fancy little flipper knob embedded within the wiper control stalk that, I thought, controlled the speed of the intermittent wiping feature. It always perplexed me, to the point where I was pretty sure a German hadn't designed it, that the diagram next to the knob didn't seem to correspond even remotely to the resulting speed of the wipers.  I'd convinced myself that it was broken.  Thanks to my little stroll through the manual, I learned that the flipper knob actually regulates the sensitivity of the rain sensor, not the speed of the intermittent wiping. Of course it does!  DUH!  It all makes sense now...though that does not make any of these revelations any less embarrassing.

I really do love the features on this car, but I really hate how much smarter it is than me.  Friggin' bright red smarty bitch...