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8A I DAWSON COUNTY NEWS I dawsonnews.com
Wednesday, June 27,2018
Living in the post-customer-loyalty days
Not that long ago, being loyal
was a commendable trait.
It was something that people
looked for in others, and that peo
ple strived to be in personal and
business relationships.
Being loyal was praised, note
worthy, and, at times, rewarded,
as Granny discovered one morn
ing.
The old gal came in giddy as a
school girl with a cupcake,
clutching a small silver tray in her
hands.
“Lookey what I got,” she
exclaimed, showing off her pretty.
“What is it?” Mama asked,
barely looking up from her cross
word.
“It’s a silver tray,” Granny said.
“What did you get it for?”
Mama asked.
“It was a gift,” Granny said.
“That’s nice,” Mama replied.
“Don’t you want to know who
gave it to me?” the old gal asked.
Mama sighed, realizing
Granny was not going to leave
her to her crossword in peace
until she did. “Okay, who gave it
to you?”
“I got it at Sanders’ furniture. I
went by there to look at recliners
- your daddy is about due for a
new chair - and I popped in and
they called me over there and
gave me this lovely silver tray.”
She held it up for Mama’s inspec
tion. “Ain’t it fancy?”
Now, the little silver tray was
not anything super special. It was
maybe about 5 inches long and
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
three inches wide, not big enough
to be used as a serving tray, so I
had no idea what use Granny
would have for it.
But to Granny, it was one of
the finest things she had.
It was free, and it was given to
her in a gesture of appreciation,
two things the old gal loved.
Mama was suddenly intrigued.
“They gave you that just because
you were in there looking at a
chair?” she asked.
“Yup. It was for customer
appreciation. I ain’t heard of that
before, but I sure do like it. I
think other places need to start
giving me something when I go
in there.”
Mama twisted her mouth. “I
bought a sofa and loveseat in
there last month. Where’s my
tray?”
“You’ll need to go up there and
get it,” Granny said.
And Mama did. She delayed
finishing her crossword long
enough to drive to town to find
out what this customer apprecia
tion thing was about.
When she returned, she had her
own tray. We were suddenly a
two-tray family then. But more
importantly, Mama and Granny
felt like their business was appre
ciated, which made them loyal
customers.
Being valued as a customer
was something that for a brief
while was the norm.
Even if it the little gifts were
branding for the business to give
them free advertising, it was a
token of appreciation and made
us feel good about doing business
with the company.
At least until some places start
ed offering discounts and incen
tives to entice people to switch
from their tried and true compa
nies. It worked too. People would
fall for the bait and change who
and where they did their business.
Not me. I came from a family
that had two silver trays because
of their loyalty.
Several years ago, I called to
see if I could take advantage of a
special deal with our then satellite
service.
“That’s just for new custom
ers,” I was told.
“I have been a customer for
eight years,” I protested.
“I see that your contract is up,”
the rep told me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we can set you up as
a new customer, which would
give you the special rate for two
years and give you new receiv
ers.”
“And after two years?”
“After two years, just tell us
you need to set up a new account
again.”
That part was a lie.
But, I still stuck with them for
about five more years until I
finally switched to another one. It
was only after some horrible cus
tomer service experience made
me pull the plug, but I did.
The new satellite service
seemed thrilled to have my busi
ness, too.
I still felt ambivalent about the
whole thing. I had been a long
time customer of the other com
pany; didn’t they care they lost
my business?
Just a few weeks ago, I needed
to replace a phone.
I have been with my cell phone
provider for 12 years and through
many, many phones.
Not only did I need to replace
one phone, I wanted to add a line
for my child.
I went in to the store and asked
what phones I could get for free -
I am all about free. I get it honest
ly; remember the silver trays?
I was told there were no free
options for me and they would
not be able to waive activation
fees.
“But, if you were a new cus
tomer you could get brand new
iPhones.”
“Are you kidding me?”
The guy who barely looked
older than my teenager didn’t
even blink. “Oh, no. I don’t kid
about free iPhones. But you can’t
get the offer if you aren’t a new
customer.”
Needless to say, I left.
I called a few days later and
was told the same thing.
“If you were a new customer,
we could give you free iPhones.
But, you’re not. You’ve been with
us a while.”
“So, I am basically punished
because I have been a loyal cus
tomer?” I asked.
The person on the other end of
the phone didn’t respond.
I went online to a competitor.
“Looking to switch and add a
line,” I wrote in the window.
“We are so happy to have you!
Let me tell you the awesome
deals we have for you!”
It was a bittersweet victory.
The company I had been with
for close to 13 years didn’t seem
to care they were losing my busi
ness - they were giving away free
iPhones, so there were dozens of
people to take my place.
But the new cell phone compa
ny was delighted to have acquired
my business.
I felt dirty, used and abused.
All I wanted was a free phone.
But unlike the days of the sil
ver trays, customer loyalty was
not rewarded.
Sudie Crouch is an award winning
humor columnist and author of the
recently e-published novel, "The
Dahlman Files: A Tony Dahlman
Paranormal Mystery."
Learning lessons from Mama about common sense
The other day I was at
Mama’s house, digging
through kitchen cabinets
trying to find a cast iron
skillet that had once been
there, when I stumbled
across a large blue glass
jar filled with various uten
sils that Mama had long
used.
The slotted spoon, with
a coated handle that she
had once laid too close to
a hot stove eye and melted
it in a spot, brought back a
tug of memory. Mama had
used that spoon all of my
life and many years before
I was even born. Mama’s
generation didn’t waste
things. They were not a
disposable society, looking
to replace something good
with something thought to
be better. They made do
with what they had as long
as they had it.
It was her potato masher
that brought forth a hearty
chuckle as I fingered it
gently and appreciatively.
About 15 years before
Mama died, the plastic
handle broke away, leav
ing the steel part but ren
dering it useless because it
couldn’t be held in order
to be used.
This did not faze Mama.
She came from a legacy of
resourcefulness. The hard
upbringing during the
RONDARICH
Columnist
Depression in the moun
tains where there was lit
tle, had taught Mama and
her people how to fix vir
tually anything. Mama had
a remarkable ability to
study on something and
figure out how to repair it.
As in the case of a pota
to masher.
It could have been
replaced for a couple of
dollars but, as Mama saw
it, that was two dollars that
didn’t need spending. She
took an ancient wooden
spool which had once held
thread. She had probably
been saving that two-inch
tall spool for 30 years,
hoping for a moment to
prove it still had worth.
She pushed the ends into
the spool and created a
new handle. It made for a
rather short potato masher
but still useful.
“Mama, why don’t you
buy you a new potato
masher?” I asked one
night as I mashed potatoes.
“Money is too hard
earned to just throw away,”
she replied. “I fixed that
and it works just fine.”
And, so it did. To be
truthful, I do the same as
Mama. When something
breaks, I try to find an
ingenious way to repair it.
It’s practical and challeng
ing.
When I found the potato
masher with the wooden
spool, I thought about the
value that Mama and
Daddy’s people put on
common sense. To moun
tain people, nothing was
prized more. Those folks
could be tough and judg
mental.
“He’s a no account,
wouldn’t strike a lick at a
snake if it was fixin’ to
bite him,” was one assess
ment they used.
“He never darkens the
door of a church. The
preacher wouldn’t know
him if he walked right up
to him,” was another. To
the dwellers of the
Appalachian Mountains,
little was worst condem
nation than that of calling
a man a lazy, no account,
drunken heathen. It was
the combination of all
sins.
Only one judgment was
worst.
“He ain’t got no sense.
He ain’t even got the
sense that God gave a
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Billy goat.” Nothing worse
could be said about some
one.
Growing up, my parents
taught common sense by
example but Daddy took it
farther whenever I had dis
played questionable judg
ment. “Now, does that
make any sense?” he’d
prod. “Think about it. Use
some common sense.”
Other than the good Lord,
he valued nothing more
than common sense.
Colleges now teach this
with classes on “critical
thinking” but too many
young people fail to truly
understand that many of
life’s problems - big ones
and broken potato mashers
- can be fixed with com
mon sense.
After I admired the
potato masher, I went back
to the cabinets and discov
ered the glass measuring
cup that Mama had used
for decades. Somehow, it
had been broken in two
big pieces.
I plan to glue it back
together. In honor of
Mama.
Ronda Rich is the best-sell
ing author of Mark My
Words: A Memoir of Mama.
Visit www.rondarich.com to
sign up for her free weekly
newsletter.
Shaun is pictured here with his daughters Avery and
Gracyn accepting his prize, a Milwaukee cordless drill
from C&W Hardware- True Value
Presenting the drill is Wyman Walden, owner and
Linda Dowdy, Manager of C & W Hardware.
Avery said her dad is the best dad in Dawson
County because “he’s kind and sweet” and
“he works a lot and works on the house to
make it pretty for mommy. ”
Thanks to everyone who participated in our contest,
like and follow us on Facebook and visit our website
www.dawsonnews.com so you can stay updated for
our next contest!
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