June 15, 2010
Edward S. Lampert
CEO and President
Sears Holding Corp.
3333 Beverly Road
Hoffman Estates, Illinois
Dear Ed,
Kudos are in order. I didn't think it possible, given Sears'
extraordinary prior performance, but your company has exceeded my expectations. June 10, Lourdice(You remember her, don't you? My Sears fairy godmother who enhanced my decor with three non working treadmills?)called and told me she had arranged something special for me. I had only to call American Direct,make an appointment and an installer would arrive at my apartment to install my newest Sole Fitness treadmill and place the defective Sole treadmill in the box the new one had come in. Once the defective Sole was boxed, I had only to call Atlantic Freight to pick it up. Holding on to the 15 year old Pro-form treadmill(the treadmill emeritus,)I did a celebratory jig in the square foot of living room floor not occupied by gym equipment.
Friday, June 11 was the appointed day. That Thursday night I was a
kid on Christmas Eve. The possibility that I might reduce my treadmill inventory by a third as well as have one of the two remaining treadmills work was so thrilling, I could barely sleep. Towards morning, I dozed off, happily dreaming of starting a relationship with a new treadmill, while slightly sad at what would mark the termination of my relationship with Lourdice. When I awoke, I smiled,realizing it had just been a dream. My relationship with Lourdice would likely be lifelong, in as much as she had no idea how to get the treadmill emeritus out of my house.
At the crack of noon, Mejandro from American Direct, removed the new Sole from its box,placed it gently on the Ralph Lauren floral quilt I willingly sacrificed to the treadmill gods and dragged all 250 pounds of it from its honored position in the living room(where the couch had been) to the side of my bed. It lay there on its side wrapped in plastic while Mejandro disassembled the defective Sole, and dragged its 250 pound carcass
on a Liz Claiborne plaid quilt, which I also sacrificed, to the box. He got all the pieces in, closed the box, taped it shut and proceeded to my bedroom for the installation of the new Sole.
Mejandro unwrapped the plastic and gasped. Go ahead, Ed, guess why. No,
not because it was the most wondrous machine he'd ever seen. Because it was broken, Ed. The shaft, that should have been inside the machine, was sticking out and broken. I had sacrificed two irreplaceable quilts(well they might be replaceable, but not at the price I got them for)to ungrateful gods.
Ed, what can I say? I would like to say that I took this disappointment in stride, recognizing that my problem was trivial in the global scheme of things, but Ed, I'm not that big of a person. At that moment, had Bob Barker arrived at my home, crowned me Miss America and asked me what I wished for, I would not have said, "Bob, I wish all nations could get along and that we could have world peace." No, on national television, I would have smiled and said,"Bob, I would like have these three f**kin' treadmills out of my house." As Mejandro replaced the broken corpse of the new Sole on the the soft lillies of the quilt, and dragged it to my living room,right in front of my door, where it rejoined the other two treadmills, I first called your escalation unit where I spoke to Roslyn, narrated the Tale of the Three Treadmills and told her I wanted them out of my house that afternoon and my money back for the 15 years I paid for the useless warranty. Roslyn said she'd get back to me. Figuring that hell might freeze over before Roslyn called me back, I called your President's line where,at a higher decibel level,I spoke to Melanie. She filed her nails, listened politely, said she'd get back to me and ended the conversation with, "Thank you for choosing Sears."
Ed, had I not taken my pharmaceuticals that morning, had I lived in walking distance from a Wal-mart, had I not been a pacifist, after Melanie so graciously thanked me, I would have bought an automatic, taken the subway to Sears and hurt people.
G-d works in mysterious ways, Ed. Just as I slammed the phone down, an angel from Atlantic Freight arrived to pick up the boxed treadmill. The angel said, "I'm glad it's in a box. I had to pick up a treadmill the other day that wasn't boxed and it took two men." Having been told by Lourdice that even an angel couldn't pick up an unpackaged treadmill, I inquired, "You pick them up unboxed?" "Yes," he said. I asked him if he could take the emeritus and the broken Sole. He said he could if he had the order to do it.
Ed, I was distraught. Not only would I have share my apartment with 20 pieces of broken treadmill lying next to its 15 year old predecessor, but Lourdice, whom I had trusted with every fiber of my being, had lied to me. Betrayed, I had no reason to ever talk to Lourdice again, but I nevertheless left her a voice mail telling her what had occurred since the previous day.
I lay down with a cold compress on my head for several hours when, at 4:00, Roslyn called with unbelievably good news. Someone would pick up the treadmills on Sunday or Monday, whichever day I preferred and whatever time I preferred. I told Roslyn that the pick up should be made Monday, June 14, between 8:00 a.m. and 12 noon. Roslyn placed me on hold, confirmed the date and time and told me I'd receive an electronic call Sunday night giving me a two hour window. I could have kissed Roslyn. Instead, I thanked her profusely. "Roslyn," I inquired,"How is it that you managed to arrange what Lourdice said was impossible?" The question was rhetorical, Ed, so I didn't really listen to Roslyn's response.
I'm a glass half full kind of girl, Ed, so I banished all thoughts of Lourdice from my consciousness. But at 4:30 she called me. I guess some people would rather stay in a bad relationship that move on. "Lourdice," I asked," How is it that Roslyn was able to perform this miracle when,for three months, you couldn't get it done?"
Ed, Lourdice couldn't get functioning treadmills delivered or broken treadmills picked up, but I have to hand it to her. When backed into a corner, she's a fighter. "Are you telling me I don't know how to do my job?" she fairly spat at me. "No, Lourdice," I said soothingly,"I would never say that." A little afraid of her now, I was glad she couldn't see my eyes roll. Lourdice continued, "Roslyn can't do it and its not going to happen."
I'm a law abiding person Ed, but over the weekend I did take bets on whether the treadmills would be picked up timely. I provided the bettors with the treadmill history including Lourdice's final utterance. Whether because of Sears track record or Lourdice's possible interference, the odds that Sears would actually pick up the treadmills Monday a.m were 50-1. Betting closed at 4:00 Sunday.
6:00 p.m. Sunday, I did indeed receive an electronic message, giving the window for pick up: 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. I pressed "0" to speak to a representative and got Jason. When I told Jason that the treadmills had to be picked up between 8:00 and 12:00, that I worked and wouldn't be home in the afternoon, Jason patiently explained to me that 8:00-12:00 was merely a "request," that it couldn't be done in the a.m. and did I want to reschedule. Equally patient, but loud, I explained to Jason that I did want to "request" another time, I WANTED THEM PICKED UP IN THE MORNING. GET IT DONE. Jason, still patient, explained that he couldn't. "Jason, let me speak to your manager." "Why?" asked Jason. "Guess," said I. I was put on hold and after 20 minutes, Jason returned to the line. You'll have them picked up between 8:00 and 12:00.
Ed, I told Jason he deserves your job. (Don't be miffed Ed. I know no one could do it as well as you.) But I was a little sceptical. Was Jason humoring me or would Sears actually pick up the treadmills? If Jason had arranged it, would Lourdice throw a wrench into it?
Monday morning was tense. A driver called at 7:30. "Where are you?" he asked. I told him. "In the Bronx?"he asked. "No, Manhattan," I responded. "I don't know if I can get there. I'll call you back." "Just get here," I screamed. 10:00 a.m. Sharon, Roslyn's colleague from escalation called. "Sharon," I said, "call the driver and make sure he gets here." 10:10 Sharon called back. "I called the driver and told him to go to your house. He thought he was picking up refrigerators. I told him treadmills. I got his manager's number. Someone will be there by 12:00." I wrote down the manager's number.
By noon, there was no sign of Sears. I called the manager and heard the following recorded message: "You have reached, 201-546-3323. The person you have called is not accepting calls at this time." Although I now had clumps of my own hair in my hand, I found this message so fabulous that I took the time to transcribe it verbatim for use on my voice mail. It will be such a time saver.
12:30 the phone rang. "This is Sears. The men have been in front of your door for 1/2 hour and no one's there." "Not possible," I said, "this is a doorman buiding and I've been here all morning." "What's your address?" I told her. "Whoops, they're down the street at 51 Jane Street. They'll be right there."
And Ed, they were. Two big guys who lifted these treadmills as if they weighed no more than helium balloons. They worked for Ex-El, the company that delivers and picks up for Sears and guess what: they were incredulous at my treadmill tale.They always pick up appliances that are unboxed because, as they so aptly put it, "Why would you keep the box that
a useless refrigerator came in?"
Now, Ed, after this long story, you might be wondering what the kudos were for. So, I'll tell you. When I started this adventure with Sears, my expectation was that, thanks to the exorbitant warranty I had paid for for 15 years, I would receive, free of charge, a working treadmill. As you know, I don't have one. But, Ed, you are a master of reducing expectations. After three months of dealing with Lourdice, I am ecstatic...no, delirious...that I have no more broken treadmills in my house. The fact that I don't have a working treadmill does not seem to bother me. Sears has managed to satisfy me despite having breached its warranty.
Although the words ATTABOY ED are inadequate to convey my feelings about the job you're doing, I know of no other printable words to do it.
So ATTABOY ED. Keep up the good work.
Very truly yours,
Carol R. Abramson
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Dear Mr. Lambert
June 8, 2010
Edward S. Lambert
CEO and President
Sears Holdings Corp.
3333 Beverly Road
Hoffman Estates, Illinois
Dear Mr. Lambert,
This is not a complaint letter. I have nothing to complain about. I have wonderful friends, am comfortable financially and my health is good, thank G-d, except for an annoying twinge in my left wrist and occasional heartburn after kung pao chicken. I understand you're a very important man what with your single handedly running not only Sears and K-Mart but also Lands'End(from which, I want you to know, I purchased the most fabulous suck-it-all-in eggplant bathing suit which I wore to death in Cancun), but rest assured, this letter will occupy only a few minutes of your valuable time.
Ed(I hope you don't mind my calling you that, but I feel close to you),you must be the smartest CEO on earth, or at least in Hoffman Estates, Illinois. You appreciate that anyone can employ the best and the brightest to manage a company, but what do they get? A well run company that serves its customers and shareholders. You, Ed, care about more than the bottom line. You're a people person. You hire the mentally challenged,pay them a fair wage and send them out to to deal with Sears' customers. You change their lives. You're a veritable Mother Teresa.
You've changed my life too, Ed. For 15 years, every morning I arose, took my high blood pressure pill and walked for 20 minutes on my Sears Pro-form treadmill . My relationship with the treadmill was the most stable in my life. Like most relationships, it wasn't perfect. The treadmill was deafening, but I didn't complain. I simply learned to read Ann Curry's lips. The treadmill occasionally zoomed from 3.9 mph to 4.8 mph, propelling my head toward the console. I adjusted and wore a helmet. But one day, it stopped running altogether and I was forced to invoke the Sears warranty for which I'd paid $150 per year for 15 years- a total of $2250.
The repairman had me sit down while he gave me the bad news. The motor was kaput and irreplaceable. But, he said,comforting me with his hand on my shoulder, since it was under warranty, Sears would give me a brand new treadmill-free.
I was thrilled. I had wondered for years what Matt Lauer sounded like and now I'd know. I could shed the helmet. I'd be getting a new $900 treadmill, free. Within weeks I received a call from Lourdice, your employee in South Carolina. Like a fairy godmother, she told me to pick out the treadmill I wanted and she'd arrange the delivery. "But Lourdice, what about the pick up of the 15 year old treadmill? I don't have room for two treadmills." Lourdice assured me she'd take care of it.
On April 22, Atlantic Freight delivered my new Sole Fitness treadmill and left it in a box in the middle of my living room floor. The box was the size of my father's 1960 Chevy Impala. Michael, of American Direct, arrived to install it.He removed it from the box, moved my old Pro-form into the living room and moved my new Sole Fitness into the Pro-form's spot in the bedroom. The new Sole Fitness weighed 350 pounds, its footprint was 7 feet and its console, 5'3" high, bore a striking resemblance to the console that Scotty used to beam up the crew of the Enterprise. I couldn't wait to try it. Unfortunately, Michael could not get it to start. Michael disposed of the box and left. I called Lourdice. Lourdice said,"Don't worry. Sears will send it back to the manufacturer and we'll send you a brand new one." As of April 22, thanks to Sears, I had two treadmills.
Ed, you really are terrific. You must pay your employees alot more than I get paid. You see, I live in a NYC apartment. It isn't easy to fit one treadmill into a NYC apartment,let alone two. (It isn't easy to fit an extra hanger into a NYC apartment.) Lourdice must live in a very spacious house, because she was flummoxed by my repeated requests to have the two dead treadmills removed before a third was delivered. But, ever accommodating, she arranged to have Atlantic Freight pick up the defective Sole.
Atlantic Freight called me. Yippee, they were going to pick up the Sole Fitness and return it to the manufacturer. But it would have to be boxed, at the door, ready to go.
Boxed? I took a valium and left a message for Lourdice explaining the situation. Lourdice left me the following message: I don't understand why you don't have a box. Everyone knows when you return an item, it has to be in the box."
Until that moment, I was unaware of your generous hiring practices. But now it was clear that Lourdice either thought a treadmill was the size of a fruitcake or would return a rental car in a box.
I took an ativan and called her back. "Lourdice," I explained,"your installer disposed of the box. I HAVE NO BOX. And even if I had a box, there's no way in hell I could get a 350 pound machine into it. I'm 70 years old and I weigh 100 pounds." Okay, Ed, I admit I overstated my age and understated my weight, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
After deliberation, Lourdice called me back. "I'll take care of it,"she said.
The following day, Atlantic Freight called to arrange an appointment to deliver my new treadmill. No talk of pick up. "Sure, come tomorrow," I said. "What's one more treadmill?"
Ed, thanks to the generosity of Sears, I now have a trio of treadmills in my apartment. The new Sole, in pristine condition in its box, sits in the place that formerly housed my couch. I sit on it to watch "The Good Wife." The couch is in storage. The 15 year old Pro-form is propped up next to my dining room table requiring me to eat standing up. And the defective Sole is a 350 pound high tech sculpture in my bedroom. Like every body else's fitness equipment, it serves as a clothing hanger.
My morning activities have changed. I arise, take two blood pressure pills, one valium, one ativan and a prozac and spend 20 minutes talking to Lourdice,who is now the most stable relationship in my life. Like my relationship with the treadmill, it's not perfect. I ask her daily to remove two treadmills and install the third. She tells me daily that she's working on it. My guess is she hears me as clearly as I heard Ann Curry.
So, Ed, I can think of no better way of thanking you for how you changed my life than by paraphrasing our ex-president. ATTABOY, ED. Keep up the good work.
Very truly yours,
Carol R. Abramson
Edward S. Lambert
CEO and President
Sears Holdings Corp.
3333 Beverly Road
Hoffman Estates, Illinois
Dear Mr. Lambert,
This is not a complaint letter. I have nothing to complain about. I have wonderful friends, am comfortable financially and my health is good, thank G-d, except for an annoying twinge in my left wrist and occasional heartburn after kung pao chicken. I understand you're a very important man what with your single handedly running not only Sears and K-Mart but also Lands'End(from which, I want you to know, I purchased the most fabulous suck-it-all-in eggplant bathing suit which I wore to death in Cancun), but rest assured, this letter will occupy only a few minutes of your valuable time.
Ed(I hope you don't mind my calling you that, but I feel close to you),you must be the smartest CEO on earth, or at least in Hoffman Estates, Illinois. You appreciate that anyone can employ the best and the brightest to manage a company, but what do they get? A well run company that serves its customers and shareholders. You, Ed, care about more than the bottom line. You're a people person. You hire the mentally challenged,pay them a fair wage and send them out to to deal with Sears' customers. You change their lives. You're a veritable Mother Teresa.
You've changed my life too, Ed. For 15 years, every morning I arose, took my high blood pressure pill and walked for 20 minutes on my Sears Pro-form treadmill . My relationship with the treadmill was the most stable in my life. Like most relationships, it wasn't perfect. The treadmill was deafening, but I didn't complain. I simply learned to read Ann Curry's lips. The treadmill occasionally zoomed from 3.9 mph to 4.8 mph, propelling my head toward the console. I adjusted and wore a helmet. But one day, it stopped running altogether and I was forced to invoke the Sears warranty for which I'd paid $150 per year for 15 years- a total of $2250.
The repairman had me sit down while he gave me the bad news. The motor was kaput and irreplaceable. But, he said,comforting me with his hand on my shoulder, since it was under warranty, Sears would give me a brand new treadmill-free.
I was thrilled. I had wondered for years what Matt Lauer sounded like and now I'd know. I could shed the helmet. I'd be getting a new $900 treadmill, free. Within weeks I received a call from Lourdice, your employee in South Carolina. Like a fairy godmother, she told me to pick out the treadmill I wanted and she'd arrange the delivery. "But Lourdice, what about the pick up of the 15 year old treadmill? I don't have room for two treadmills." Lourdice assured me she'd take care of it.
On April 22, Atlantic Freight delivered my new Sole Fitness treadmill and left it in a box in the middle of my living room floor. The box was the size of my father's 1960 Chevy Impala. Michael, of American Direct, arrived to install it.He removed it from the box, moved my old Pro-form into the living room and moved my new Sole Fitness into the Pro-form's spot in the bedroom. The new Sole Fitness weighed 350 pounds, its footprint was 7 feet and its console, 5'3" high, bore a striking resemblance to the console that Scotty used to beam up the crew of the Enterprise. I couldn't wait to try it. Unfortunately, Michael could not get it to start. Michael disposed of the box and left. I called Lourdice. Lourdice said,"Don't worry. Sears will send it back to the manufacturer and we'll send you a brand new one." As of April 22, thanks to Sears, I had two treadmills.
Ed, you really are terrific. You must pay your employees alot more than I get paid. You see, I live in a NYC apartment. It isn't easy to fit one treadmill into a NYC apartment,let alone two. (It isn't easy to fit an extra hanger into a NYC apartment.) Lourdice must live in a very spacious house, because she was flummoxed by my repeated requests to have the two dead treadmills removed before a third was delivered. But, ever accommodating, she arranged to have Atlantic Freight pick up the defective Sole.
Atlantic Freight called me. Yippee, they were going to pick up the Sole Fitness and return it to the manufacturer. But it would have to be boxed, at the door, ready to go.
Boxed? I took a valium and left a message for Lourdice explaining the situation. Lourdice left me the following message: I don't understand why you don't have a box. Everyone knows when you return an item, it has to be in the box."
Until that moment, I was unaware of your generous hiring practices. But now it was clear that Lourdice either thought a treadmill was the size of a fruitcake or would return a rental car in a box.
I took an ativan and called her back. "Lourdice," I explained,"your installer disposed of the box. I HAVE NO BOX. And even if I had a box, there's no way in hell I could get a 350 pound machine into it. I'm 70 years old and I weigh 100 pounds." Okay, Ed, I admit I overstated my age and understated my weight, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
After deliberation, Lourdice called me back. "I'll take care of it,"she said.
The following day, Atlantic Freight called to arrange an appointment to deliver my new treadmill. No talk of pick up. "Sure, come tomorrow," I said. "What's one more treadmill?"
Ed, thanks to the generosity of Sears, I now have a trio of treadmills in my apartment. The new Sole, in pristine condition in its box, sits in the place that formerly housed my couch. I sit on it to watch "The Good Wife." The couch is in storage. The 15 year old Pro-form is propped up next to my dining room table requiring me to eat standing up. And the defective Sole is a 350 pound high tech sculpture in my bedroom. Like every body else's fitness equipment, it serves as a clothing hanger.
My morning activities have changed. I arise, take two blood pressure pills, one valium, one ativan and a prozac and spend 20 minutes talking to Lourdice,who is now the most stable relationship in my life. Like my relationship with the treadmill, it's not perfect. I ask her daily to remove two treadmills and install the third. She tells me daily that she's working on it. My guess is she hears me as clearly as I heard Ann Curry.
So, Ed, I can think of no better way of thanking you for how you changed my life than by paraphrasing our ex-president. ATTABOY, ED. Keep up the good work.
Very truly yours,
Carol R. Abramson
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