Coldest robot.

Eleven years ago we had a snowstorm here two days before Halloween, which was also on a Monday that year. Snow on Halloween may be de rigueur in places like North Dakota and Saskatchewan, but not in the southern tier of New York. It was not a blizzard, as I recall, just heavy, slippery snow, and it caught everyone by surprise. Weekend workers, plow guys, schools that had to remain closed Monday, even trees that had not yet dropped their leaves (you didn't want all those limbs, didja, tree?). All the local towns and villages barred trick-or-treating, although I seem to recall roving bands trying their luck the following Friday. Those that did made out well. The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

A friend had posted pictures of the Great Pumpkin Snowstorm of '11, and it reminded me of another Halloween quite a few years earlier than that. 

I don't remember all the costumes I wore over the years of trick-or-treating; there was the Superman costume I wore to pieces after the fact, the inevitable bindlestiff getup, and probably a vampire or pirate in there. Most are forgotten. But I firmly remember the year I got the much-envied robot costume by Ben Cooper. In addition to being pretty skull-like for some reason, it had a battery pack that lit up a little lightbulb in the forehead. All the high tech of the worst third-grade science project, but I could not wait to go out and impress everyone with my costume.

There was a problem. And this problem is something else that I'm sure is familiar to children of North Dakota and Saskatchewan. That day was the coldest Halloween I'd ever endured -- possibly the coldest I have ever endured -- and there was no way Mom was letting me go schnorring for candy without my parka. 

A robot in a parka? THAT'S CRAZY TALK! Robots are made of steel! They don't wear parkas! I think we can all agree on one thing, and that's that a robot, even one that for some reason was packaged by Ben Cooper as if wearing a spacesuit, can endure common temperatures on Earth. No parkas needed! ROBOTS DO NOT WEAR PARKAS!

Well, you'd better believe this one did. It was that or stay home.

I guess it was not as embarrassing as I probably expected. I'm sure that around the neighborhood we had Supermen wearing parkas, ghosts wearing parkas, skeletons wearing parkas, ballerinas whose long coats covered their entire costume, vampires whose mothers made them wear scarves and woolly hats. It was freaking cold. Any sane person would not have been wandering around, but we were kids looking for free candy without adult supervision, so, yeah. 

That was close to my final real trick-or-treat experience. Those Ben Cooper costumes would last for one night, and little more; even if I had not outgrown it by the following year, or associated it with bitter disappointment, I would not have worn it again. It makes an amusing story now, though.

I laugh at the experience, as I do all those Halloween experiences. You usually forget the candy itself as the years go on, but you remember the things that happened. I hope you have some good memories of Halloween to smile at today. And may your trees be free of snow and TP.

Lost art, but not dead yet.

Many years ago my wife gave me a sweatshirt that I still have. It is very beaten-up these days, but I won't part with it yet. I think it has an important message about the human condition, especially the agnate half of the human condition.  

Why don't men want to ask for directions? 

I realize that's an exceptionally broad sweep, but within every truism is some truth. My dad did not like to ask directions and neither do I, nor do most guys I know. It's not like we sat down at the lodge meeting and voted on it -- "All right, boys, remember, from this point in, no asking directions." I think it's just instinctive to the male side of the species. When you're a stranger and you're lost, you are in a position of weakness, and asking directions is akin to admitting weakness to someone you don't know in a place with which you're unfamiliar. When we look at it that way, it's no surprise that the situation sets off alarm bells deep in our psyche. 

In fact, it's not surprising at all that men don't want to ask for directions. It's much more surprising that women do—even when they don't have a guy with them that they can force to ask for directions. I think prudence enters the conversation then, saying that getting more lost is even worse than admitting being lost. This is another sweeping generalization, but I think by and large women are stronger in the virtue of prudence than men are. 

The reason I bring this all up is that a friend of mine is taking his son to West Point today. Despite all the wokeness that has descended on BSA (please, don't call it Boy Scouts anymore), and the fact that they're allowing icky girls in because all Girl Scouts do is sell cookies, some boys are still working on their achievements. Today these scouts are going to work with actual soldiers on their orienteering merit badge. 

When my pal mentioned this, I thought he meant cartography, but no. In fact, much to my surprise, the BSA has never had a merit badge for cartography or mapmaking, according to Steve Henning's research-filled page on the topic. There I was, thinking that Orienteering is just another wussy, watered-down skill that replaced the more demanding cartography, as General Science replaced Zoology, but no. What it did replace was Pathfinding, which had been discontinued anyway in 1952; Orienteering came on the scene in 1973 and has remained a badge ever since. Furthermore, the Orienteering badge has a 10-page workbook with all the stuff you have to do; it made me tired just looking at it. No wonder I never got past the blue uniform.

So I've decided Orienteering really is useful. In the age of GPS we usually don't need it; nor do we need to ask directions as much as we used to. However, if it helps these boys grow into men who don't have to ever ask for directions, then I'm all for it. They're fulfilling the First Rule of Manhood, and making us old guys proud.

World's greatest detective.

 

Screeeeech....

I don't want to startle people, but we're all gonna die.

Plus, we're going to have an enormous economic crash.

How do I know this? It's not that I have any great economic knowledge; I just know what everyone ought to know. 

I was reminded recently, though, that not everyone does have such knowledge. A highly intelligent friend, an accomplished young man for whom I have tremendous respect and whose company I enjoy, said that he couldn't blame Trump for anything good or bad on the economy, and similarly Biden shouldn't get blame for inflation or gas prices. Presidents can't control that stuff. 

He is, of course, a Trump hater and is a liberal Democrat. So I was faced with the choice of explaining how inflation works when money is not tied to anything hard -- that every dollar printed is borrowed by the government, and makes every other dollar worth a little bit less, and how supply and demand affect fuel prices, especially when the government adopts anti-supply policies, and how fuel prices raise the price of everything else -- or enjoy dinner. So for a change I kept my mouth shut. (Trump was a spendthrift in office too, of course, so he didn't help in that regard either, even if he was not at anything like Biden levels.)

Thus even smart people don't understand why the current picture is as bad as it is, and fated to get worse. But that only matters tertiarily to my prediction of economic doom. And no, my prediction is not based on the fact that the Phillies are in position to win the World Series, and the Wall Street Journal claims that every time a team from the City of Brotherly Love wins a championship, the nation goes into a recession.

My prediction is based on my observation that so many things around look like the Internet boom of the 90's, only without the concurrent economic flourishing. What I mean by that is, there is an absolute torrent of software startups out there -- all founded by "disrupters" and "innovators," of course -- who are based in expensive cities and whose main success so far lies in getting rounds of funding. As in the 90's, half of them can't explain what they actually do in 5,000 words or less. 

What I'm not seeing, unlike the 90's, is everyone rushing straight to the stock market for an IPO. A bunch of worthless stocks from startups like TwoGuysAndAParrot.Com (not real) helped cause an avalanche of losses spread widely among investors. If companies are flush with cash from funding rounds A through Triple H, only the big-money guys are on the hook if these startups go under. 

However, that's still a problem. For one reason, your savings may be linked to funds that invest in these companies, looking to strike gold. For another, the big-money guys can go on a profit-taking spree to make up for investment losses, which could easily lead to a big fun selloff pile-on that further squishes your 401(k), which is already losing value faster than a herd of cattle diagnosed with Mad Cow Disease. 

What to do? Well, naturally, I recommend putting all your cash into Fredcoin, the Favorite Cryptocurrency of Guys Who Live in My House!

Its value is still solid!
1 Fredcoin = 1 Fredcoin!

Buy now and use your Fredcoin to help fund your new backyard fallout shelter. Call today and our pals at Stiiv's Friendly Bunkers will schedule you for an estimate. 

Act fast! That "market correction" could be here any day now!

Pour one for the big guy.

Readers of a certain age will remember President Jimmy Carter's beloved but somewhat bumbling kid brother Billy Carter. Billy seemed much more like a good ol' boy than his big brother, and that in an era that honored rural down-home working folks.

Typical of Billy, though, he got in trouble. He once peed on an airport runway in full view of the press; worse, he got a $220,000 loan from Libya after registering as a representative of the country. That led to a Congressional investigation into Billy's influence peddling, which kind of ruined his good-ol'-boy-ness. It's not a good look for American small business owners and sons of the soil to represent OPEC nations. 

But while Billy's star was in the firmament, he inspired and recommended a beer called Billy Beer, sold in fine stores everywhere. 

Sure, the Secretary of the Treasury signs the money, but does he get to sign beer cans? No way.

Anyway, I've come up with a real winner of an idea. There's a little-known relative of the president, a son named Hunter, and I hear he likes to have a drink or two himself. I think we can make a deal to get him to endorse something like Billy Beer, maybe a malt liquor. Maybe a "fortified" malt liquor, you know? The way some delicious wines like M/D 2020 and Wild Irish Rose are fortified. And of course he would be paid in Fredcoin, the world's most Fred-like crytocurrency. 

Here's a mock-up of the label:

Trying to think of a good slogan, like "It'll Get You There" or "Throw Away Your Laptop and Forget Your Troubles" or "It's Like Kissing Your Sister-in-Law." I'm sure we can come up with something better. 

I'll be reaching out to the younger Biden soon to see what we can work out. Apparently Congress is just great with influence peddling now, so I doubt anyone will give him a problem on that end. And you know, they tell me that this Hunter fellow is a successful painter, which is great. My bathroom could use a fresh coat -- maybe we can add that to the deal.

Today's craziest thing ever.

Today's lunacy comes from the World of Science, another institution hopelessly corrupted by greed, ambition, and political correctness. I encountered these examples on a research project about headaches.

Let us start with the Global Healthy Living Foundation (bold in quoted material added):

Recently, it has been suggested that the word race should not be listed among risk factors for disease. Instead, it is suggested to state the effects of racism as the reason why a disease is more common, more severe, or less well treated in people from underserved populations.

All right, so there we have it. There is no reason that one group should suffer from any disease more than another; the only difference is the effects of racism. Note that we don't know who has suggested that; it's just out there, like the breeze, like radio waves. 

Taken at face value, what does this mean? Well, for one example, how about all those studies that noticed the preponderance of breast cancer in women of Ashkenazi Jewish descent, studies that pointed the way to the discovery of a mutation on the BRCA genes 1 and 2 that made many of these women more likely to suffer from this form of cancer. Did that teach us anything? No, the only reason that these women were more likely to have cancer was because of the effects of racism. 

See how easy it is to say something that sounds good and throw away a century of genuine scientific research?

The unequitable scientist,
plotting how to exclude others

But Jewish people are of the white race, not the Jewish race, I hear a voice in the balcony say. Well, that depends who's making the assessment, doesn't it? College administrators say Jews are white, I guess, and Hitler said they weren't, and in both cases it was anti-Semitic. 

Let's look at a study in Neurology, the esteemed journal of the American Academy of Neurology. What do we learn here?

Whereas races are not inherent biological categories, race is a social construct that as a vehicle for systemic racism has profound health effects. Throughout the literature, it is apparent that race plays a role in the appropriate diagnosis and treatment of headache disorders. Although recent population studies have found the prevalence of severe headache and migraine is roughly equal among White (15.5%), African American (15.0%), and Hispanic (14.9%) groups in the United States,6 differences exist in diagnosis, treatments, and outcomes.

So now we learn that there really is no such thing as race at all; it's just a social construct invented to keep people down. And yet then we have data for people of difference races, to prove that some are treated differently than others. It's easy to get the feeling that the word race is magic, that it can be dismissed when convenient and raised again when useful. When bad people see race, it's not real; when good people see race, it's crucial. Even in the same paragraph. They want to have their pain and eat from it, too.

Now let's see what the National Migraine and Headache Awareness Month people have to tell us about this topic. (That month is celebrated in June, by the way; mark your calendars.)

About one in six African Americans in the United States are diagnosed with migraine disease and one in five is diagnosed with tension-type headache. Studies on race-related gaps and possible health care inequalities in people with headache disorders are virtually non-existent. Understanding potential race-related disparities in headache patients may inform the development of culturally contextualized healthcare policies and interventions that are more likely to reduce or eradicate race-related headaches altogether (Bernadette Davantes Heckman and Ashley Joi Britton 2015).

Prior research suggests that if a patient is black, his pain is likely to be underestimated and under-treated compared to a white patient.

So now it looks like race is back on the menu, because people have race-related headaches and are treated differently by hospitals and doctors because of their race. In fact, an outfit called CtrlM Health would like us to know that

A growing body of research shows that migraine in Black people is more frequent, severe, and likely to be chronic and associated with more depression compared to white People.

Yet, among Black people with headache and migraine, inaccurate diagnoses are more common. 

BUT WAIT! Race is just a social construct, so how can you possibly say that black people have migraines more often than white people? You can only say that racism causes a difference in their care. 

Look, I personally think WAY too much is made about race. It's part of our individual human makeup and experiences, but as a Catholic, I think we're all made in God's image and we're all made by Him with love, and we should be happy about it, not fight about it. 

Medically, though, racial background and social background can provide a lot of clues about the origins of disease. Arguing about whether race is a real thing or not is almost beside the point; we would like to know if disease is caused by genes, caused by behavior, or caused by genes and triggered by environment, or the like. Thus, there are statistical uses in studying groups by similarities in DNA. And if you don't want to call it race, call it something less explosive. We're just stirring up trouble where it isn't necessary.

As for racism, sure, that's a problem in the human condition and always will be. The more tribal we act, the worse it is, and political correctness is nothing if not tribal, dividing us by income, race, sex, sexual preference, religion, experience, nation, history, you name it. 

However, there is one notable reason that I can guarantee has a lot to do with why white people get better healthcare in America despite the ferocious drive for "equity," a reason that cannot be conquered by all the goodwill in the world. Allow me to quote the uber-leftist Kaiser Family Foundation:

As of 2020, Medicaid covers about three in ten Black, American Indian and Alaska Native (AIAN), and Native Hawaiian or Other Pacific Islander (NHOPI) nonelderly adults and more than two in ten of Hispanic nonelderly adults, compared to 17% of their White counterparts. 

Government healthcare sucks. And that's true whether you're red, white, blue, black, polka-dotted, or striped. The more of it you have to rely on, the worse your overall experience with healthcare is going to be. By the numbers, most Medicaid patients are white, but not by the percentage of the groups, and that's what matters to the equity hustlers.

On a related topic, about twenty years ago or so people were going bananas because researchers noted that men were usually the subject of cardiac health studies, and this made women's experience (especially symptoms of coronary distress) invisible, leading to misdiagnosis and death. They pointed out that heart disease is the #1 killer of American women, same as American men, but claimed that women who relied on the usual advice about heart attack symptoms were dying more often. So in 2004 the American Heart Association launched the Go Red for Women movement. 

Pardon my cynicism, but I also think the AHA and others were tired of the breast cancer people getting all the attention -- that is to say, money. "Hey! We're still #1! Show us some love! And money!" 

The point is, people still want to argue that women face health disparities, but when you put them on the spot they won't even tell you what a woman is. Not even Supreme Court nominees. They know the mob is waiting to pounce, and they're -- what's the word? -- chickenshit. And liars. Don't forget liars. 

Anyway, I literally have a headache now after writing all this. So, my research is complete.

Dare we say, another moment with Igor.

 This has been another moment with Igor.

A guy could get kilt.

Saw a fellow in church wearing a skirt yesterday. Of course it was not a skirt, but a kilt; it was plaid and had one of those crazy sideways/diagonal belts visible under his jacket. 

I suppose there was a time when you would always assume a bearded man in a skirt was a Scotsman of some sort. Now, however hirsute the chap may be, your first thought could be: It's a guy who thinks he's a girl. That just seems to be the going idea these days.

Looking way back, however, history had lots of men in skirt or "skort" outfits or the like. For example: 

Ancient Egypt: Everyone wore the shendyt, a skirt-like wraparound loincloth. Couldn't tell the girls from the guys by the clothes. I guess you could look at their chests.

Ancient Rome: Lots of long tunics, belted or not, or the toga virilis, a very manly, masculine sort of working toga, not a dress at all. Still no pants on the horizon. 

Greece, 6th century BC: First pants spotted. That is, not that they were decorated with spots; they emerged for use by horsemen around this time, as reported by Greeks. Eventually pants would become a land-office business. 

Scotsmen, 1700s: Started back up with the skirts early in the century. Theory has emerged that they just were waiting for someone to make a remark so they could kick some ass. 

Then we move into the modern era. Men in skirts included:

1950s: Scotsmen, Milton Berle

1960s: Scotsmen, normal men turned into Scotsmen by aliens

1970s: Scotsmen, Benny Hill

1980s: Scotsmen, New Wave bands, professional transvestites

2020s: Scotsmen, TikTok influencers, many others

I'm going to stick with pants, personally. No skirts for me. I look bad enough in shorts as it is. And considering what a hash I made of learning to play the recorder in grammar school, there is no way I can ever play the bagpipes. It would take an invasion by alien blancmanges to make that happen.

Moments and mements.

Yesterday I was out and about, rather busy being social. (Me! Out amid the populace! Can you imagine?) Therefore all I can offer you this morning are some stolen moments and stolen memes, collected with the utmost care over the latter part of October. 

And, because I got my first Christmas catalog of the year in the mail yesterday:

To beat the best you have to eat the best.

If you'd like to eat 76 hot dogs in 12 minutes, these may be the condiments you're looking for:

 

Yes, the hero of Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, Joey Chestnut, has cashed in his fame, and wisely, may I say. The Joey Chestnut World's Greatest Eater line of condiments appeared at my local Walmart this week. They've actually been around a few years, but this is the first I've seen them. Apparently a lot of the proceeds from these products go to charity, which is great.

I don't know if these products are any good -- after all, Joey is known for dunking his hot dogs and buns in water and cramming them down, not delicately basting them with sauces -- but how bad could they be? 

He's got wing sauces, mustard, and something called Classic Boardwalk Coney Sauce. I don't know what that is, and I went to Coney Island quite a lot in my childhood. Technically it should be a sauce used on rabbit meat, but I guess you can use it on anything. 

I applaud Joey for his outstanding work. I know there's no single belt for all eating events, but if there was, I'd bet he would be its uncontested chowing champion of the world. When the Nathan's contest was being won by Japanese men who (according to Curtis Sliwa) trained in secret camps and spread out across the world, eating for victory, Joey saved our national pride. Takeru Kobayashi had won the Nathan's contest six times in a row, wiping the floor easily with contenders like Charles "Hungry Man" Hardy. Joey entered the arena and said "Hold my Maalox." He went on to win the contest every year since 2007 except for 2015, when fellow American Matt Stonie edged him by two dogs.

Competitive eating may seem like a silly thing, even a waste of good food, but it is definitely difficult. Would you really want to try your luck at eating the most mayonnaise in three minutes? (Michelle "Cardboard Shell" Lesco, 3.5 jars, or 86.35066 ounces -- well over half a gallon in three minutes.) Not me, thanks. 

To be the absolute best at something, even something as weird as eating the most Peeps (Stonie again, 255 in five minutes), takes really stupendous effort. There's only room for one at the pinnacle, and certainly when it comes to hot dogs, Joey Chestnut is there. 

I don't think he does the mayo contests, though. Maybe that's why he doesn't offer a Joey Chestnut Mayonnaise. Michelle Lesco could offer a brand of mayo. 

A Matt Stonie-themed Peep might be fun, now that I think about it. 

Food pill.

Yesterday I suggested that we might eventually wind up with food pills rather than food, especially if our overlords of the Great Reset have their way. I guess it would be one way for them to realize their dream of getting the peasants to eat bugs. Bugs can be ground up and made into pills, but the ingredients list would not have to say CONTAINS: COCKROACHES -- just the list of proteins and whatnot that go into making cockroaches. 

There was a time when food pills seemed to be the goal of nutritionists, a cure for starvation. If all we needed were X nutrients to survive, why not make a capsule full of X and just swallow that? The Jetsons had a machine that could produce food pills, presumably for when the family was on the go. The Kelvans who took over the Enterprise subsisted on food pills. So it's going to happen one day, right?

NOT SO FAST! says Daniel H. Wilson, Ph.D., in his book Where's My Jetpack?, which I profiled on this site a couple of years ago. He notes that there are useful applications for a minuscule, super-portable source of nutrition, but we're not close to an actual food pill. 

The idea was first seriously proposed in 1893 by suffragette Mary Elizabeth Leese (according to Paleofuture and other sources). No one would have to do the drudgery of cooking in Leese's imagined future of 1993! Pills and potions will handle the lot with fake foods! Huzzah for the freedom of the woman! 

Sounds pretty boring to me. But also, as it turns out, the human body is made to eat actual food. It wants fiber and cells and a balance of solids and liquids to keep running happily. The ideal food pill would still likely leave people as clogged up as toilet full of top soil. I imagine it would have to turn into a bolus of shredded wheat or something in the stomach, like one of those Magic Grow sponge capsules, to give us our daily fiber. 

As usual, this science fiction idea might work fine for some imagined species, but not the human ones. 

So actual food pills look like a pipette dream, so to speak. On the other end of the scale is eating too much, and there we find myself. I have the physique of an athlete. Unfortunately, that athlete is Haystacks Calhoun. 

Maybe some of us could use some food pills instead of eating at Olive Garden, is all I'm saying. But they contain cockroaches, the deal is off. 

Come back Saturday for another take on food intake! 

BS snacks.

I have another healthy snack food to show you, and if history is a guide I won't be belaboring this process much longer. 

Let me explain up front that both my wife and I enjoy Brussels sprouts. Others who eat in our home may disagree, but we like them as is. My wife likes perhaps a little vinegar on them of an evening, but I take my Brussels sprouts the way I take my espresso -- straight, no chaser. So that's why I bought these. 

Vegan Rob's (sheesh, such brand names) is a Long Island-based outfit that makes -- go ahead, guess! --vegan snacks. No cheese or beef in these, by cracky! Unlike Brad's, which I discussed last Saturday, there is actually a Rob at Rob's. That would be Rob Ehrlich, who founded the company nine years ago. I hope he's still there -- "Rob's Blog" on the site hasn't been updated in years, and the company's news site also seems to have become a cobweb.  

The company wants us to love ourselves, love the planet, love all living things. Yay. That's fine. But we don't really love these snacks. 

First off, my wife thought they looked like uncooked fish sticks. 

Second, she didn't notice anything really Brussels sprouty about them. Normally the Belgian beauties have a strong flavor, which is why most kids hate them or disguise them with bacon, but it's scant in these puffs, so I agreed with her assessment. I thought the snacks were okay, though, and worth finishing the bag. But not worth buying another one.

I don't know, man -- I'm starting to think the idea of a healthy chip that tastes good is bogus. These puffs have some saturated fat and sodium, so the American Heart Association would probably scowl at them. Despite that, they still taste just okay. I guess if you want to trick your kids into getting a vegetable, this might work, but the Brussels sprout content comes from powdered Brussels sprouts -- seems like you could just take a multivitamin for the same benefits at that point. 

And that brings us to the classic science fiction idea of food only available in pill form. Maybe that's where we'll wind up in the end after all. 

Trapped in the Amazone.

My wife likes Prime Days. She stocks up her Amazon shopping cart with things that are not needed in the near future -- which, if we're getting them from Amazon, is everything -- and orders them during the sale. 

Maybe not anymore, though.

Most of the stuff she ordered arrived in a variety of packages, but one package failed to show up as expected. It was reported Lost In Transit. We know it never made it to our door, as we were home all day and we have a dog. So somewhere between northern New Jersey and here, it vanished. Poof!

Fine. So, my wife wants to get to customer service and find out what they plan to do, which for most companies would be to send a replacement. But no. She presented me with the transcript, which I present below. Note that personal and product names have been changed or removed to protect... well, me, most of all. This is my blog; she doesn't want to be tied to it. Can you blame her? (Her side of the chat in red.)

Hi, thanks for contacting Amazon. I'm Amazon's chat helper.

I'm here to answer your questions & get the right person to help you out.

As I send you messages, you can select a button to reply. Give it a try.

6:51 AM

Got it

6:51 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

OK

[VARIOUS PURCHASED ITEMS LISTED HERE]

Is this what you need help with?

6:51 AM

No, something else

6:52 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

So, what can I help you with?

6:52 AM

An item I ordered

6:52 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

Let's see. Could you select the item you're looking for from your recent orders below?

6:52 AM

[THING THAT DIDN'T ARRIVE]

6:52 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

Has it arrived yet?

6:52 AM

No, it hasn't

6:52 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

Sorry it hasn’t arrived. Give me a minute to check on this.

Looks like there’s more than one item in this shipment.

Ok, give me a moment to see what I can do.

I’ll get someone who can help with this.

6:53 AM

OK, thanks

6:53 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

Ok, you can chat with an associate now or request a call back.

You can also go to your Customer Service hub to fix most things or to search help pages. What do you prefer?

6:53 AM

Chat with an associate now

6:53 AM

Messaging Assistant | Customer Service

If you have details you think would help the associate, type them here.

An associate will join the chat.

6:53 AM

GUY has joined & will be ready to chat in just a minute.

GUY | Customer Service

Hey IZZY'S MOM, GUY here to help you.

6:54 AM

Hi GUY, I'd like to find out what's going on with an order that was never delivered. The tracking number is {NUMBER}. The site says the order is running late. It was supposed to be delivered on Thursday of last week; it was out for delivery.

6:55 AM

GUY | Customer Service

Sorry to hear that you have not received the package.

We didn't intend this to happen.

6:57 AM

Could you let me know what's going on with it? I don't want to cancel because it had a bunch of things that were at Prime Day prices.

6:57 AM

GUY | Customer Service

I see the package is lost in transit.

6:58 AM

Yes.

6:58 AM

GUY | Customer Service

Don't worry, I'll quickly escalate the issue to the shipping team.

6:59 AM

Last I could tell, it was out for delivery on Thursday from the TOWN, NJ facility. That's only about 15 minutes from my home. I really appreciate you escalating this.

6:59 AM

GUY | Customer Service

Issues like this are fixed once they have been reported.

I'm sure it will never happen again for your future orders.

7:00 AM

Thanks. That's a relief.

I appreciate your help with this.

7:00 AM

GUY | Customer Service

You're welcome.

Would you like to receive your refund as an Amazon Gift Card balance or to your original payment method?

7:01 AM

I really don't want a refund. I would like the items I purchased at the prices at which I purchased them. Can the order be refilled and sent to me?

7:02 AM

GUY | Customer Service

While we shipped your order, the inventory was provided to us by a seller and I'm not able to send you a replacement. [NOTE: According to my wife, there was no indication that any of the items ordered were coming from a third party; they seemed to be in Amazon's own inventory. But even so, why could the order not be placed again? No explanation given.]

7:03 AM

For NONE of the items? There were several things in that order.

7:04 AM

GUY | Customer Service

Yes.

7:04 AM

OK, refund it to the original payment method then, please.

Will I be sent an email from Amazon verifying all of this?

7:06 AM

GUY | Customer Service

Sure.

Refund issued successfully.

Is there anything else I can assist you with today?

7:08 AM

I would like a detailed response, please, stating Amazon will not be replacing items at the prices they advertised.

7:08 AM

GUY | Customer Service

Sure.

You'll receive an email.

My wife's request for Amazon to confirm via email that they have a policy of not replacing available items lost in transit at the price and terms at the time of purchase has not yet arrived. Go figure.

This reminds me of when Steve Jobs stepped away from Apple for a while and it started to go to hell. (Apple's doing that again now, but in a different way and for different reasons.) Maybe Jeff Bezos ought to go back to Amazon and see what's happening. Christmas is coming and they don't want to have widespread customer dissatisfaction.

But Jeff is busy with other concerns these days.  

"Ha ha, losers! Mine is the biggest!"
(Picture from New York Post)

It's tough, having your own personal aircraft carrier.