The Gold Standard in Crap

For years, perhaps since the dawn of time, perhaps since the permafrost thinned out enough to allow human habitation in the wilds of Canada, one company has been responsible for broadcasting the Olympics.

That company was the government-sponsored Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). During the last several Olympic games, CBC featured catchy theme songs, a kitschy host who wore ridiculous sweaters – especially during the ever-so-Canadian Winter Olympics, and a dedication to showing Olympic coverage 24/7 while the games were taking place.

You see, we here at Canadaland studios are not sports fanatics. Oh, we like the CFL and NHL well enough, but not so much that we really know who plays for what team, or how exactly every rule in the game works. You want to pull on that guy's face mask, or slash him across the wrist to get the puck? Seems fair to us.

But the Olympics are something else entirely, something special. They are the pinnacle of amateur sport, of athletes at their peak. We're still not pleased that some professional athletes are allowed to compete, most notably in basketball, but basketball is perhaps the most awful sport in the world to watch, next to Northeastern Russian Seal Racing, so it's not really that big a deal. We can live with whiny professional athletes if it means that we get to see Olympic sports.

The Olympics make us a bit crazy. When they come on, so does our TV, and it stays on all day every day. We want sports all the time when the Olympics are on, sort of like that guy in your office who always wants a piece of cake, and you're like "dude, could you be any fatter?", but you can't really say anything because he's the bosses nephew.

We are the bosses nephew in this case, and our craving for the cakey goodness that is the Olympics only happens once every 2 years, so leave us alone already you big mean jerks – it's a glandular problem!

The point.

Is that CBC did a great job of giving us Olympic coverage of even the most obscure sports every minute of every day during the Olympics. 2am and you want to know how the cross-country freestyle pairs sudden-death biathlon went? Just turn to CBC. 9pm and you want to see the highlight of that figure skater who did the "triple flip double axle big-rig"? CBC's got you covered.

Sadly, the right to cover the Vancouver 2010 Olympics was lost by CBC to another company, CTV, in a bidding war. They managed to harangue the host of the CBC Olympics team into joining them, so we had moderate hopes, at least.

It was awful. The entire two weeks of Olympic coverage played like one giant, broken high-light reel. There were pre-event interviews, post-event dissections and profiles of the athletes. There were panel discussions and very strange conversations with minor celebrities, Canadian and American, for no reason.

Oh, the sports? Yeah not so much. Results of events that didn't feature a prominent Canadian were simply reported in a 2-minute sound byte, and the ones that did feature our athletes showed precious little else.

And the sweaters? Gone. Replaced instead by Armani suits, slicked-back hair, and some extra-douchy announcer we'd never seen before. It was a mockery of true Olympic coverage, which highlights skill, focus, and the fact that Canadians have too much time on their hands.

So get ready CTV, a letter is coming, on behalf of Canadians everywhere who know that its not about how many medals Canada wins, or how many times the Americans screw up. It's about camaraderie, spectacle and true emotion.

And beer. Beer is good too.

Oh, and chips.

Look, the point is – CTV you suck and read our letter.

Beer.

Yup, Still Here

We know, this happens about once a month.

You're stopping by to see us on a regular basis, and suddenly we disappear into the Twisting Nether. Sadly, such is the life of freelance and creative writers.

But we're still here, and we've got a couple of letters cooking. The first one is going to be about the recent Vancouver 2010 Olympics, which, while fantastic, were distinctly lacking in anything resembling useful coverage. This offends us, so naturally a letter must be written.

We'll keep in touch, and don't give up on us just yet. We Canadians are a tenacious folk.

Masters of the Card – The Letter Goeth

To Whom it May Concern,

It’s funny.

I’m not a big credit-card supporter. I’ve gotten into more debt trouble with those things than in any other way (my own fault, admittedly). Unfortunately, I also know having at least one is necessary in our credit-crazed society, and I understand that along with a credit card comes the inevitable marketing, the up-selling of “balance protection”, random “cheques” arriving at my house, and a periodic bombardment of calls about the company’s “service”.

Notice I’ve put those terms in quotes, because none of them are real. “Balance protection” isn’t really an accurate description – “taking small amounts of money monthly from suckers” would be more to the point but probably doesn’t fit well into brochures. The “cheques” I get are an attempt to get me to treat my card as cash, which is possibly the worst mistake a human can make, aside from taking the blue pill rather than the red pill if you get offered it in a the-world-is-not-real type of scenario. Similarly, the concept of “service” at most credit card companies bears more resemblance to kicking small puppies than helping mankind…but I digress.

I had a Capital One MasterCard. You don’t need the card number, since I’ve cancelled it, but I’m writing this letter on principle, and good old Canadian grit. This MasterCard was serviceable. It did the job I needed it to do. It had a nice low credit limit, and was something I could fall back on in times of need or hardship. I didn’t even carry it in my wallet – it got to hang out in the top drawer of my dresser, my underpants keeping it secure. But then, one day, after years of steadfast non-service, I received an innocuous looking letter in the mail.

This letter stated that to “benefit me”, my card would be changing to a fee-per-year model. The only way to prevent this from happening was to call your company and cancel the card. If I had done nothing, not received the letter or thrown it away unopened, I would have suddenly been on the hook for a yearly $30 hit. I probably should have seen this coming. Had I bothered to read my credit card agreement in detail, I’m sure it would have shown that you have the ability to start such a fee plan, in addition using my likeness for advertising purposes and renting out my house to a band of travelling carnival workers.

I should have known better, should have been smarter, but that doesn’t make it right, doesn’t
make it honorable. As strange as this may seem in the corporate world, the customer is actually what drives business. No, really. We’re the ones who pay the interest and use the cards that keep you in business. You’ve not “doing us a favor” by granting us the boon of your credit cards. We’re keeping you afloat.

So here’s what I’m suggesting in the future – a phone call. I know, I know. It’s a shocker. Try this out next time, and I’d imagine that the results will be better. First, call the client whose card you’re going to suddenly change for the worse. Ask him if he wants to keep the card. Write down “oh dear God one thousand times no”, which will be his response to your question. Move on to the next call. This will save both parties time, money, and aggravation.

Let me be perfectly clear. Credit cards are a necessary evil, one that I can bear to live with under typical conditions. But a company that operates on the premise that I will either be too lazy or too stupid to cancel my card in the event of an upcoming, unavoidable fee raise represents its own special brand of suck.

This letter is for all Canadians, quietly brooding over their credit card’s poor service as they drink their double-double, silently cursing at the owner of the car parked too close to theirs, before asking them to politely move. These are my Canadian brothers, fuming inside but unable to let any anger escape, save for a small steam-powered stream of polite deferrals and passive-aggressive deflections.

No more, brothers, sisters! This letter is for you. So enjoy my response-letter to your letter. A counter-response form letter is anticipated. I’m sure it will serve me better.

Sincerely,

Letter Sent: 12:30pm Mar 27, 2010

Still Here. Still Canada.

Oh hi.

Yes, we're still around. Sadly, the MasterCard we've been meaning to send has gone unsent in the last few weeks as we've been dealing with the final stages of the CanadaCar being damaged by a fellow apparently desperate to get to work. Go figure.

In any case, the MasterCard letter will follow shortly, unless we get in some sort of second, freak, accident. This is thankfully unlikely, but anything is possible here in Canadaland. We're a land of wonderment, maple syrup, and oh yes – many, many gold medals.

Strangely, there's a letter coming about that.

Stay tuned! Stay literate! Stay Canadaloving!

Shoppers Drug Mart – The Response

Hello, world.

As promised, here is a transcript and photo of the letter from Shoppers Drug Mart. Again, our name is not really “Canadaland”, but it sure does look good on paper. We’re actually sending these out under a real name, but secret identities are cool.

So read, and enjoy. How could you not, really?

February 2, 2010

Hello Mr. Canadaland,

Thank you for taking the time to provide your comments with respect to our store layout. It is not our intention to frustrate or upset our customers.

At Shoppers Drug Mart our entire philosophy is based on the understanding of care and concern for our customers. Rest assured it is certainly not our intent to adversely affect the health or well-being of anyone who comes through our doors.

This type of layout, which features the cosmetics department at the main entrance, has been implemented in some of our stores. Rest assured your comments and concerns are extremely important to our company’s continued success and we have forwarded your concern to our Store Concepts department. We will continue to monitor this concern for future consideration.

Thank you once again for brining this matter to our attention and allowing us the opportunity to improve our services to our customers.

Regards,
Sandra
Customer Service

Frankly, this response is not that bad. The cookie letter basically told us that their cookies were awesome and that the name they had used was the best ever. That letter had lots of “thank you” and “your concern is important” nonsense in it, but they didn’t really mean it. 98% of that response was a form letter they send out to any customer complaints.

Maybe 50% of this one is. It still has the hallmarks of consumer-response letter – phrases like “rest assured” and “continued success”, but it actually speaks, albeit in a small amount, to the issue at hand.

Sure, they’re going to forward our concern on to “Store Concepts” which may mean “the metal bin in the corner with crumpled paper in it”, but at least they’re giving some hope that the issue will be looked at.

It won’t, of course, but that’s not the point.

Perhaps the best part of the letter from our perspective is the part where Sandra states that “it is certainly not our intent to adversely affect the health or well-being of anyone who comes through our doors”

We couldn’t have said it better. That make-up counter as the public’s only entrance and the dismal air of overly primped and primed makeup techs is certainly affecting both my health and well-being, but Shoppers obviously doesn’t see it that way.

We’ve received a great deal of feedback about the original letter, almost all of it from people who have noticed this very same problem.

Is anything going to get done? Probably not.

But good on you, Shoppers, for reading our original letter and sending a reply that wasn’t complete junk. That’s the best we can really hope for, these days.

Make me up before you go-go

Another letter has arrived here at Canadaland studios, this time as a response to the very first letter we ever sent out.

That's right – Shopper's Drug Mart has responded. To their credit the letter is not entirely formulaic, and it does have some mention of the issues we so wittily raised, but it still has the indelible mark of their PR department on it. Nonetheless, expect a detailed update soon with a photo and transcript of that letter, as well as our sent letter to MasterCard.

The good times just keep on rollin'.

Masters of the Card, They Ain't

Even here in Canada, we have credit cards.

Oh sure, we use them for hockey bats and curling nets, but we've got them.

And we hate them, just like Americans.

Well – scratch that – I suppose we have a love/hate relationship with them. They allow us to buy things we could never normally afford, and probably shouldn't ever buy. They're great at the beginning of the month, and horrible at the end (insert terrible female-related joke here).

But we all have them. And frankly, I was willing to deal with their ridiculous interest rates and ever-increasing limits, combined with their fun card names. A "platypus emerald executive-class card"? Sign me up!

I could even live with the "cheques" they would periodically send, which inherently assumed I was stupid enough to believe that credit card money was "real" money.

Seriously. I could live with all of that. I'm a patient man.

But then it happened. A nice, plain-white letter from Capital One MasterCard arrived. I've had a MasterCard with them for, oh, four or five years now, at least. I didn't use it for much, always keep it paid off, etc. It was nice to have around if I needed it and – here's the important part – it had no yearly fee.

So, this letter arrives and I open it, expecting more cheques to shred. But oh no. Instead, I have a letter which states that if I don't respond by such-and-such a day, my card will automatically become a fee-per-year card.

Say what now?

So if I do nothing, just leave things as they are, I will suddenly start being charged money? I have to contact them directly to prevent them from automatically taking money from my wallet and shoving it into their greedy maw?

Oh, and the best part? It was to "serve me better". Yeah, I totally buy that. If there's one industry known for its charity and dedication to service, its the credit industry. For sure.

So, needless to say, I did call. There was a chat, mostly involving yours truly informing the good people at MasterCard that Canadians don't respond well to threats or ultimatums. I'd have threatened them in return with a peacekeeping mission, but I doubt Canada has the numbers to entirely surround the MasterCard head office.

The card got cancelled, and the day was won.

But then I got to thinking. Who else have they done this to, that either didn't call or didn't notice, and is now getting charged a fee? Who else have they crushed under the plastic-coated, number-encrusted boot heel of their oppression?

Frankly, I have no idea, but its time for another letter.