Why I Canceled My Netflix Account

Goodbye NetflixDamaged discs and idiotic customer service.

Last night, I canceled my Netflix account. I hadn’t intended on doing so when I called customer service, but it’s the bullshit I encountered on the phone that made the decision easy for me.

My Netflix Account

I had a Netflix DVD-only account. Well, until recently, I had a Netflix unlimited three DVD plus streaming account. But when Netflix decided to split the two types of service and charge customers for each of them separately, I did away with streaming. After all, I’m living in an RV and get all my Internet access via a MyFi wireless device with a 10GB per month cap. Streaming video with my setup is not only impractical, but stupid and costly.

Of course, since I’m parked on the edge of a cliff overlooking a valley, I don’t have cable TV. And I don’t have a satellite dish. And my antenna picks up about 6 television stations. My inability to get live television doesn’t bother me much since I simply cannot tolerate commercials. At home, any TV I watch is via DVR with the remote in my hand. Here, I catch up on television series — normally a few years after the show has aired — via DVD. Hence, the Netflix account.

The trouble is, it’s gotten to the point where more than half the discs I receive from Netflix are damaged. Although I’ve had a few cracked discs, more often, the damage is scratches that cause the video to lock up, skip, and do other annoying things. While I’m willing to accept an occasional annoyance — perhaps once every month or so — when every second disc that arrives is screwed up, I run out of patience.

Last night, it came to a head. I received my third damaged disc in a row and I wasn’t satisfied with checking a few boxes on the Netflix Web site. It was pretty obvious that they were ignoring the check boxes. It was time to make some noise, to vent.

The Call that Ended it All

Calling Netflix customer service works like this:

  1. Log into your Netflix account.
  2. Navigate to the Contact Us link.
  3. Find and click the link for calling customer service. A toll-free phone number appears onscreen along with a six-digit code to expedite your call. This code is evidently unique to each account or call you make.
  4. Call the phone number.
  5. When prompted, enter the code.
  6. Wait, on hold, for a human to pick up while crappy hold music plays in your ear. Yesterday, this took about 5 minutes.

Of course, the longer I wait on hold, the more annoyed I get. So even the calming voice of the guy answering the phone at Netflix customer service at 10 PM on a Monday night wasn’t enough to cool me off. I immediately went into a rant about the number of damaged discs I was getting and how completely unreasonable it was. I wanted them to note my complaint on my customer record and tell me what they could do for me about it.

He made various sympathetic noises and told me how sorry he was. And then he did something that pushed me over the edge: he asked for my name.

“I just entered a six-digit number that appeared onscreen for my account while logged into Netflix. Doesn’t it pull up my name?”

“Yes, it does,” he confirmed. “But I need you to verify it.”

This made no sense to me. “But I’m logged into my account. My name appears at the top of the screen. Even if I wasn’t the account holder, I could easily read that name off the screen.”

“I need you to verify your name before I can help you.”

“But I verified my name when I punched in those six digits.”

“No, that just brought up your account. I need you to verify your name.”

“But the only way I could get those six digits was to be logged into my account.”

“I need you to verify your name before I can help you.”

“You’re reading off a script.”

“No, I’m not,” he said. He must have been lying. Then he repeated, “I need you to verify your name before I can help you.”

I cannot begin to explain how angry this conversation was making me. “I refuse to play this game,” I told him. “I have proven who I am by entering that code. I will not allow you to drag me into your game.”

“It’s not a game,” he said. “I need you to verify your name before I can help you.”

“I want to talk to a supervisor.”

A pause. I guess he punched the button to bring up the screen that tells him what to say when a customer asks to speak to a supervisor. “I can see if a supervisor is available, but I’m sure I can help you.”

“But you won’t.”

“I need you to verify your name before I can help you.”

“I want a supervisor.”

“I’ll see if one is available. I need to put you on hold.”

“Fine.”

He put me on hold. More of the same crappy hold music. Each minute that ticked by made me angrier. I was so sick of playing bullshit customer service games. I’m not an idiot. I don’t like being treated like one. By this point, I was already beginning to think that my Netflix account wasn’t worth the headache it was giving me that night.

About three minutes later, he came back on the phone. “I have a supervisor on the line. I’ll conference you in.”

“Fine.”

The supervisor came on the phone. He introduced himself as Daniel — I think; do I really care? He came right to the point: “Can you tell me your name?”

“Sure,” I said. “I can tell you my name. But I won’t.”

“I need you to verify your name before I can help you.”

“You have my name on the screen right in front of you. I typed in a code so that screen would appear. I don’t see any reason to tell you my name when I’ve already verified my identity by entering that code, which could only appear for my account.”

“I can’t help you unless you verify your name.”

He made the decision for me: “Then cancel my account,” I said.

“I’d be happy to cancel your account if you’d give me your name.”

Maybe he thought he was being funny. I didn’t think so.

“Well, since I’m already logged into my account, I’ll just cancel it myself.”

I hung up and clicked the Cancel Membership link. I then filled in the survey to indicate that the reason I was canceling was that there were too many damaged discs and I had a problem with customer service.

Netflix Doesn’t Care

Does Netflix care that it lost a customer due to its bullshit customer service scripts? I’m sure it doesn’t. And I think that’s part of the problem.

Companies don’t care about their customers anymore. All they care about is collecting our fees and providing the minimal service they can for what we pay. They make us jump through hoops when we want to contact them — get online, log in, navigate to a screen, dial a number, enter a secret code, wait, and then repeat information they don’t need. I’m tired of it, I’m tired of paying for inferior service and then facing aggravation when I want to complain.

So I’m done with Netflix.

I’m probably better off without Netflix. I certainly will save some money. And the time I don’t spend staring at the idiot box is time better spent reading or writing or even doing crossword puzzles. Stuff that might actually improve my brain instead of sedating it.

Construction Time-Lapses

More time-lapse fun.

Here are two time-lapse movies I’ve done this month.

The Backhoe time-lapse shows my neighbor putting in his new driveway. Frankly, I liked the driveway he already had. Why tear up all that nice land?

The House Framing time-lapse was done today. My other neighbor has been framing his house for about a week. I’m kicking myself for not starting these sooner. I hope to make new time-lapses for this project for the rest of the week, so stay tuned.

Ebook Review: The Pillars of the Earth

Ebook FAIL.

Since this week’s blog theme seems to be FAIL, I figure I’d finish off the run of FAIL posts with the most epic failure of all: Penguin’s “ebook,” Pillars of the Earth. This attempt at ebook publishing is so full of FAIL that I almost don’t know where to begin.

When is an Ebook not an Ebook?

Home ScreenWhen it’s an app.

That’s the first problem. Announced almost the same day as Apple’s announcement that iBooks would support multimedia elements, I made the assumption that this new, “amplified” edition of Ken Follett’s novel would be an example of iBooks’ new capabilities.

I was wrong.

Not only is this a standalone iPad app, but it requires a whopping 1.54 GB of storage space on an iPad. “Updates” — and there has been one so far — are equally huge. In fact, Apple warns you:

Do not attempt to download this product wirelessly. Download in the App Store on your computer and transfer to your iPad by synching your apps.

The product itself is poorly designed, consisting of:

  • An ebook reader module. There’s nothing special about this at all. While it mimics the iBooks’ curling page flip, its implementation is sluggish and buggy; more than once, the page flip happened so slowly that it was impossible to turn the page. (It just wouldn’t move enough to “flip” over.) I had to quit the app and restart it to continue reading. The table of contents is broken down to the chapter level which wouldn’t be so bad if the chapters weren’t 50+ pages long. As a result, if you wanted to go back to a previous part of the book, it took forever to go to the page you wanted and then return to where you’d left off. Ebook settings do not include font size; you have to pinch to change that and more than once, it reset itself.
  • Character TreeA “Character Tree.” This feature is supposed to help you understand the relationship between characters. I found it nearly impossible to navigate and parts of it seemed to be locked out. It was more of a source of frustration than information. I still can’t figure out why some characters have flashing halos.
  • About the Author material. This includes text and video information about Ken Follett, author of mostly spy thrillers. This book is not spy thriller.
  • About TV Series material. This is the extras stuff that’ll likely turn up on the DVD. Starz marketing material, through and through. I figured I’d go through it when I was done with the book, but after the disappointment of being locked out of content, I figured it would be better to avoid additional frustration.
  • Links. I guess if they’ve got us, they may as well shoot marketing material at us with both barrels.

The settings screen is a joke. While it might have been a good place to put font settings, instead it offers just two options: Page Flip Sounds and Use Night Theme.

Annoying DialogI think the ultimate indicator that this is a poorly designed app is the dialog that appears every single time you open the app. Illustrated here, it includes a Don’t Show button. I tapped it every single time, but the damn dialog continued to appear.

Typos, Missing Breaks

The ebook text had its own problems:

  • There were typos. Real typos. I stopped counting after seven.
  • There was no indication of scene changes. For example, you’d be reading a scene where two characters are talking or doing something. Next line, another character who isn’t in the scene is talking or doing something. Huh? While the printed book may have used additional space to indicate a scene change, the ebook version doesn’t bother with such niceties. I guess they think the reader needs to be jarred to his senses once in a while.

Apparently, copyediting is not part of the ebook production process at Penguin.

The Movie Clips

Embedded in the book’s text are icons that, when clicked, may or may not display a movie clip from the Starz dramatization of the book. There were four problems with this feature.

  • Movie ClipThe clip usually did not match the text. The screenplay is apparently not a faithful adaptation, so dialog, characters, and scenes are different. Watching these clips while reading the book is like reading a book and watching a movie roughly based on it at the same time. Not a very rewarding experience.
  • The clips are teasers. There’s not enough content to make them valuable. They’re merely a tool to get you to watch or buy the Starz series.
  • The clip would not reliably play full screen width. You had to coax it to fill the screen by tapping a button in the upper right corner.
  • Unable to PlayThe clip would not display until it had aired on Starz! This zapped me early on. After reading a passage that described the cathedral under construction, I was pleased to see a video icon, hoping to be able to visualize the rather complex description. Instead, a dialog box (see image) told me that “speed-readers” had to wait until that clip aired more than a week later! My surprise quickly turned to anger when I realized I’d been sold a marketing tool for Starz.

The Book

Ken Follett writes spy thrillers. I’ve read a few of them. They’re good. Ken Follett should keep writing them and stop writing medieval historical fiction.

At first, the book was a pleasure to read. It introduced me to medieval times with an air of authenticity — other than dialog, of course — that was enjoyable to me. The dialog was not authentic at all and I think that’s okay. I don’t think I could have struggled through medieval dialects, spelling, and grammar.

But the book got very long very quickly. I’m a fast reader and can normally knock off a novel in two or three days, reading in the evening before bed. This one took more than a week. It seemed to go on and on and on. The story got boring. Even when it was supposed to be exciting it got boring.

About halfway through, I realized that I wasn’t enjoying the book anymore. I’d passed the point of being able to watch video content — nothing was available to me — so all I could do was read. And what I read was disturbing.

Spoilers Ahead!

The book had several antagonists. One was a violent man named William who couldn’t seem to have sex with a woman unless beating her was part of the act. He raped one of the protagonists while her brother was forced to watch and then had his groom rape her, too. He basically went through the book, beating, raping, and killing. There was no stopping him. He literally got away with murder again and again.

It made me sick.

Another antagonist was a bishop who would forgive William for his sins. No matter how bad they were. He was evil in his own way and also seemed to get away with his acts over and over.

These two antagonists, and a few other minor ones who wound through the plot, had their way with just about anything. It was heartbreaking to read their latest dastardly deeds, page after page. After a while, I wondered why I was reading. There was no enjoyment in the plot, no real reward for the reader who needs to see good triumph over evil. It was simply a long, drawn out punishment for the good guys.

We’re not talking about a short book here. The mass market paperback — the version you’d buy in an airport bookstore, for example — is 983 pages. That’s a hell of a lot of evil to wade through.

Oh, every once in a while, the protagonists would win a small victory. They defended their town against William and his raiders, “only” losing 70 or so people in the process. Hooray. That was after William had burned their town to the ground on the previous raid, killing innocent men, women, and children, including one of the protagonists, and causing the financial ruin of the woman he’d raped while her brother watched. Talk about insult to injury, huh?

Throughout the whole book, I kept waiting for William to get his just desserts. He finally did, on the last pages of the book. Somehow he and the rest of the cast had managed to live — during medieval times, when Wikipedia reports average life expectancy to be only 30 years — to their 50s, 60s, and beyond. It was then that William was finally hanged. An astute reader will realize that the bad guy has lived a long and comfortable life, directly responsible for the rape, maiming, and murder of hundreds of people, and it is only in his old age that he’s finally punished. We’re supposed to be satisfied with that?

The interaction between the characters was unrealistic and contrived most of the time. I’d read a scene and wonder why they did (or didn’t do) what they did (or didn’t do). It doesn’t seem to make sense sometimes. It’s as if the author’s only purpose is to set them up for something in the future — something unpleasant. And there are only so many times you can get into a character’s head and read the same thoughts before you stop caring about what’s in there.

And sex? Not only is it prevalent throughout the book, but it’s often quite graphic, with various private parts being stroked, grabbed, fondled, squeezed, sucked — you get the idea. I don’t know how it got past the Apple censors with this rating:

Rated 12+ for the following:
• Infrequent/Mild Sexual Content or Nudity
• Infrequent/Mild Realistic Violence

Mild? I don’t think so. The graphic descriptions of the rapes with their violence against women were disturbing enough to warrant a more protective rating than that.

And I don’t think I’ve read the words fuck and cunt so many times in a book in a long time — if ever. If this were a movie with that language, it would be rated R — that’s 17 and older, Apple.

But the most tasteless bit of narrative? One of the protagonists having sex with a stranger within hours of his wife dying while giving birth to their child. And we’re supposed to like these characters?

Finally, the book was supposed to be about the building of a medieval cathedral. In reality, it was a book about the brutality of the ruling class, the corruption of the Catholic church, and the rough life of peasants during medieval times.

Spoilers Done.

A Learning Experience

I thought this “ebook” would be a publishing breakthrough. That’s how it was heralded on USAToday and other news outlets.

After seeing the excellent Wired app — which I need to review here, too — I had very high expectations for ebook publishing. I thought that publishers finally “got it.” I didn’t expect them to take advantage of readers by selling them advertising material for a partner organization. I didn’t expect to be locked out of content I’d paid for. I didn’t expect an ebook to take up so much precious space on my iPad.

I’m not the only one disappointed by this mess. The iTunes store shows only 29 ratings averaging only 2 out of 5 stars. I wonder how many other buyers have demanded their money back, too.

My refund comes this week.

R44 Helicopters Featured in Movie Poster

Low budget production?

We attempted to see Avatar in 3D yesterday at the local AMC movie theater. There weren’t 2 seats together in the entire theater, so we got a refund and left. I’m not paying $25 to watch a 2-1/2 hour movie sitting in crap seats halfway across the theater from my husband.

Movie Poster for The Spy Next DoorAnyway, outside the theater were movie posters for coming attractions, including this one for an upcoming Jackie Chan movie called The Spy Next Door. And it doesn’t take a helicopter expert to recognize all three helicopters in the poster are R44s.

This is the first time I can remember seeing a Robinson helicopter in a movie poster.

Eventually, we’ll see the movie. I don’t think we’ll see it in theaters. Frankly, it doesn’t look very good — just the usual family farce. We like Jackie Chan — his comic style of martial arts fighting was showcased perfectly in the first Rush Hour movie — but goofy slapstick turns me off and I have a hunch this flick will be full of it. (Gotta keep the kids entertained, after all.) We’ll see it when it hits Netflix.

R44s in Poster

Detail from poster. With a tag line like this, I’m not likely to rush out and see the movie.

Mike and I were wondering why R44s are featured in the poster (and likely, the movie). Let’s face it: they don’t look nearly as slick as some of the turbine helicopters that usually appear in movies. Mike thinks they needed several helicopters for the movie and R44s were a good low budget alternative.

I’m thinking that depending on how the helicopters are used — or abused — it might be good exposure for Robinson products.

I’m pleased to see R44s so prominently displayed on the poster. I’m just hoping they belong to the good guys and don’t end up as fireballs — as so many movie helicopters do.

About My New Fifth Generation iPod Nano

Holy cow!

Yesterday, my Fifth Generation iPod — approximately equal to what they’re now calling an iPod Classic — the first version to support video — died again. I have a tendency to let the battery drain completely and sit in my purse like that. Then, when I attempt to sync, my Mac doesn’t know what the heck it’s connected to and wants to restore it.

This is the fifth time this has happened and the third time it has happened in the past two months. When I left for an appointment yesterday, it was still connected to my Mac, trying to import about 25GB of podcasts and music and videos. It was taking a long time, so I left it.

Coincidentally, that appointment was at the Biltmore Apple Store, which is walking distance from our “Rear Window” apartment in Phoenix. I was bringing in my 12″ PowerBook, which had a dead hard disk. I wanted to know what it would cost to replace the disk. I learned a few things:

  • The 12″ PowerBook computer was first manufactured in early 2003.
  • I bought mine in July 2003.
  • On a 12″ PowerBook, you must remove 23 screws to get at and remove the hard disk. You then have to screw them all back in. In the right places.
  • Apple has absolutely no interest in repairing 6-year-old laptops.

I’ll blog more about my solution to this another time. Let me get back to my new Nano.

Of course, I hadn’t bought it yet. But I figured that since I was there, I may as well take a look.

iPod Nano

This isn’t my Nano, my thumb, or a video of anyone I know. But mine looks a lot like this one.

And I liked what I saw. So I bought a 16 GB red one. Yes, it’s (product)red, so a portion of the purchase price goes to fight AIDS in Africa. But that’s not why I picked red. I just like red. I’d like to help fight AIDS in Africa, but they’d get a lot less money from me if it was (product)turquoise.

Understand this: I bought a new iPod to replace one that simply wasn’t functioning reliably. The idea was to buy an iPod that would work with the iPod setup in my car and elsewhere. (The Shuffle won’t.)

I liked the idea of video, but since the video feature sucked battery power in my old iPod, I didn’t use it often. I didn’t expect to use it much on this iPod either.

All I wanted was something I could use to listen to podcasts and music while I drove or flew.

I got so much more.

This little sucker is absolutely packed with features.

  • It plays MP3s and other audio format files.
  • It plays movies.
  • It has an FM radio tuner built in. The FM tuner can identify songs so you can tag them and later sync them with your computer for easy shopping on the iTunes Store.
  • It has a video camera.
  • It has a pedometer. It can sync up with Nike’s Web site for some reason I’m not clear about and probably wouldn’t care about if I did.
  • It has games.
  • It can tell when you tilt it so it orients the screen properly. This tilt thing can also be used by games.
  • It can record voice memos.
  • It can store and display photos.
  • It can sync with Address Book and iCal on my Mac.
  • It can store notes.

It does a huge amount of stuff I didn’t expect. And every time I find something new, I get all giddy, like a kid.

Playing with one of these silly things for the first time — as an owner — is better than opening presents at Christmas.

Now I know what you’re saying. “Maria, you work with Apple products all the time. Didn’t you know that the Nano had all these features?”

No, I didn’t. I mean I knew about the movies and heard about the built-in video camera. But the tilt thing and games and pedometer and radio were all quite a shock.

Maybe you’re saying, “Maria, how could you spend nearly $200 and not know what you’re getting?”

Well, I thought that what I thought I was getting was worth $200. The Nano comes in a really sleek little package. Weighs next to nothing. Incredible quality video for such a tiny screen. I was satisfied.

Now I’m beyond that.

Do all MP3 players have this many bells and whistles? What have I been missing?

As you might imagine, I’m very happy with my new purchase. The only adjustment I’ll need is limiting the data I put on it to less than 16 GB. My old iPod has a 30 GB hard disk in it; this is quite a step down.

But I’ll deal with it.