2 Comments

I'm sick of looking at that model from the last post. Here is a picture I really like. Not the coolest rap, but a dynamic picture with good lighting. I wish Jess or I would learn how to take/edit good pictures. Jess took this one with Dave's camera. Every couple hundred pictures, we get a really good one.

This picture is from last weekend in either Birch Hollow or Orderville. Probably Birch Hollow. Canyoneering is what I spend most of my days thinking about (other than family and work):

Is this Dave?

Let's start off by clearing one thing up: I have always loved Marriott. I think it is required of all Mormons to love Steve Young, Mitt Romney, Kevin Rollins, David Neeleman, and J.W. Marriott amongst others. I recently watched a documentary on J.W., which I loved. He was truely someone to emulate. That is why my latest experience with Marriott (the hotel chain) was so suprising. I grew up going to Marriotts on family vacations (on my Dad's points) and have had nothing but good experiences and memories. More recently, I have begun to travel more often for business; I can now see why business travelers book Marriott. You can trust the brand (and a clean hotel makes a big difference on the road). So, in short, I have always loved Marriott, but this week has definitley provided another perspective. I will never stay in the Burbank Airport Marriott again.

The Background.
With some great partners, I recently started a business. We are a start-up and thus until we cash-flow, we have to watch every penny. It is our life blood. I booked the Marriott (rather than a cheaper hotel) for two reasons):

(1) we are in Burbank for a week...a decent hotel makes a big difference over a week's time; and
(2) the online interface for Marriott allowed me to book a room with 2 double beds and a rollaway.

Perfect. We have three employees. We all know eachother really well. We will skip the luxury of having two rooms and instead spend more on one nice room. Booked.

The Issues
We arrived in good spirits on Monday morning (after all, we had just picked up our standby tickets to Conan). When we hit the Marriott, we realized the first of many offputting things that we would face. Parking was $14 per day. You may say, "that happens..." The reality is this is Burbank, not downtown in a major city. To my knowledge, no other hotel in the area charges for parking (not even the Courtyard Marriott which is less than a mile away).

No big deal. We'll ask them to reduce/waive it given that we will be here for a week. We asked when we checked in. The employees response: "We have to charge this because we are across from the airport and many commuters use our lot for airport parking." "Okay" I said, "how about you charge the commuters, but you give free parking to the patrons that stay with you for a week?" "I'm sorry," was his response. "We can't waive the parking."

Okay. Sucks, but okay. So we headed up to the room.

The room smells wierd. We ask for another room. The new room (2 doors down) smells less wierd, but still has a subtle sewerish smell. By now I knew the desk supervisor wasn't hip on us, so we didn't complain because it was getting awkward.

Problem: There wasn't a rollaway in either room...so I ask the desk supervisor about it. He says that they can't put a rollaway in a room with two queens.
"Hmmm..." I say, "well, when we booked, the online interface asked me if I wanted a rollway (after my room selection) and I selected yes. I think it's even in my confirmation."
"Yeah" he said, "I'm sorry about that, but we can't do it."
I then explained that we needed them to figure out something because we had three people and two beds. I explained that if the online reservation wouldn't have confirmed the rollaway, then I would understand his position, but given the circumstances I hoped he would figure something out. All this time, I'm fumbling through my phone to show him the email confirmation with the rollaway.
I finally find it and he says, "I don't need to see it. I know that the interface allows you to book it that way."
"Okay" I say, "then what do you propose?"
"I don't know" he said, "I don't know what we can do. I'll talk to the manager and call your room."

About 20 minutes later he calls me. "We can upgrade your room to one that has two doubles and a pull-out bed, but we can't just give it to you. You are going to have to pay extra."
"How much?"
"$50 a night"

After the call, we decided mutually that this wasn't right. We had a clear understanding (because of the online interface) and now he expects us to pay more because the interface misreprented what could actually be done? That's not right.

We walked down and told the supervisor that we were uncomfortable paying more and we asked him to refund our stay so that we could go elsewhere.

He didn't blink. He refunded the money and sent us on our way.

Follow Up
Tuesday morning, I tweeted the following:

"Horrible customer service at the Burbank @MarriottIntl yesterday (need more than 140 char), switched to the Ramada for the week <- noisy."

Suprisingly, Marriott responded with a tweet of their own:

"@Jon_Shipley We saw your msg; may we be of assistance? If so, please DM details and your contact info. Thank you!"

Good. Only one problem. I can't even send them a DM unless they are following me (which of course they weren't). Did they really intend for me to DM them or did they just want to say so publically? I respond:

"@MarriottIntl don't think I can dm without you following me...can I?"

Their response:

"@Jon_Shipley Sorry about that, we are now set up and ready to go. :)"

Okay, good. Maybe they will clear this up. I DM them:

"In meetings all day. cp:801.xxx.xxxx Conf#:8359xxxx Online int. asked if we wanted rollaway. Staff said couldn't/need more $."

Nearly a day goes by. No response. No DM (I was following them at the time, so they could have sent one). No text. No call. Finally, a DM in the late morning today:

"Thank you for the additional information, Mr. Shipley, we appreciate it."

Thank you? No help? No consideration for the crappy service? Nothing?

Again, it makes you wonder...are they using Twitter to reach out to their customers or are they just trying to give that appearance? Maybe they talked to the desk supervisor and he expressed how difficult I was...maybe they should have reached out to me as well.

Anyway, it was an interesting experience. Disappointing that it came from Marriott. A learning experience on how not to perform customer service in person or on Twitter.

2 rooms at the Ramada it is.

P.S. I know what you are thinking...and I'm not a serial customer service hater. Guess who I rented our rental car from this week?

RIP dear blog. You have been replaced by Twitter. I am sorry. I'll come back to you when I have something to say that requires more than 140 characters.

@Jon_Shipley
@SelectBankcard

Today I learned a valuable lesson. Really, it all started last year when I went to vote. I arrived at the voting booth and, as is typically the case, there were all kinds of offices up for vote that I was ignorant to. I asked the lady running the booth if she had any information on the candidates. She did not. I was stuck wondering the basis on which I should vote. The candidate's name? Their party affiliation? The sign I saw on the road to work? Instead of voting the party line, I decided I would withhold my vote for the races on which I was uniformed. I figured it would be a disservice to those running to cast my vote blindly.

Today, I was better prepared. Before heading to the booths, I looked at the sample ballot and researched my preferences in each case. On a side note, as crazy as it seems, many of the candidates for some of the low profile races don't even have a webpage, so this online researching effort is only successful to a point. At any rate, this morning, I watched a good portion of a debate between the candidates for Utah County Commissioner - Gary Anderson and Joel Wright. It didn't take long for Joel Wright to win my support. It seemed that Anderson was campaigning to keep his cush job while Wright was campaigning to make a difference. Anderson seemed to represent what is wrong with the government and Wright seemed intent to change that.

I watched the polls closely tonight and was disappointed to see Wright lose. My guess is that if more people would have been exposed to the candidates, Wright would have won. People, such as my former self, seem to vote for the incumbant or the candidate that the party leaders are endorsing.

At any rate, the lesson that I learned is that a good citizen should research their vote prior to election day so that they can actually give support (beyond their own vote) to their preferred candidate's campaign. I have done this on the high-profile elections, but have neglected the lower-profile votes (which probably make a more immediate impact on my life). I wish I would have known about Joel Wright two weeks ago, so that I could have thrown my support to him when it would have made more than a one-vote difference...

After some minor negotiations with our wives (with the exception of the 2 minors) Rob, Dave, Mike Beam, Drew, Drew's friend Mitch, and I set out to descend Yankee Doodle Canyon in the Silver Reef area. Here are some pics (click on them to make them larger):

Rob on the first rap:



Some genius wearing his helmet on the wrong end:



Drew and I on the second 80' rap (this is why we come folks):





Dave and Drew on the first stemming obstacle:





Some creative teamwork to bypass a pothole full of water (it was a bit too cold for a full dip):



Drew on his last stemming adventure, which ended badly as he fell ~8 feet into the shallow pool below. Glad the worse that happened was some hurt pride.



Thanks to the wives for letting us go. It was a lot of fun. Hopefully we converted a few into the addiction that is canyoneering.

Note to future self (ala Bill & Ted's): Try combining the first two rappels by using the big tree above the two drops (or possibly the anchors). Bring a 25' rope to partner assist the obstacles after the rappels. Don't exit until after the pothole (there is a first exit, which isn't the right one). When scaling the exit, the path starts on the left side.

My Dad, brothers, and I travel to a destination hosting the first and second rounds of the NCAA tournament each year. It has been 11+ years. The last three years, our weekends were ruined by watching BYU blow their first game of each respective tournament in person. I knew BYU going to OK City while we went to New Orleans could only mean good things for both of us. I was right.

Matt and I started things off right, going to Bourbon Street on St. Pat's. Our biggest mistake of the night: not bringing a my camera. After witnessing the craziness happening on that street, I was feeling pretty good about the relative magnitude of our mistake. Here is a low-class mobile phone pic.


Thursday, we watched ball for about 13 hours. 3 of our 4 games were great...and wouldn't you know it...BYU won in double OT. The hall crowd in the stadium huddled around the TV and most were pulling for the cougs along with us (probably out of hatred for Florida). It felt great to get that monkey off our backs.

Today, we had some beingets (Cafe Du Monde coming tomorrow)...:

..., went on a swamp tour...:


...and topped it off at Preservation Hall, which was super rad - Preservation Hall is basically a historical Jazz hall (if a room so small can be considered a hall) where a great New Orleans Jazz band plays each night. It was awesome - I thought a lot about my sister Holly during the concert...she would have loved it. Even to those ignorant to Jazz and what it takes in general to play those instruments, it was an incredible atmosphere and the talent of those playing was impressive. Walking out of the hall (capping off the intake of the Jazz culture after listing to the many street performers over the past few days), my nephew Preston told my brother Matt, "When I grow up, I want to be a street performer." New Orleans will make you think things like that. Today definitely sold me on the French Quarter...so much history. The culture is almost tangible. I will definitely make my way back here. Here are some pics of the hall:

The Buffalo Sabres.

I know. I am not happy about it either. Dave's argument was convincing. I have thought about it a lot since. I think my only chance at becoming an NHL fan is following a story that I care about. It will be difficult to pick up any kind of dedication towards a team without some kind of connection. I tried it with the NFL as a junior high student: I thought I could become a Browns fan. That didn't work at all. Soon, the Eagles were starting Ty Detmer and my love for the Eagles stuck. So, Ryan Miller, you are to blame for this. When your contract expires in 2014 (yes, I looked up his contract to make sure I wasn't committing to a team only for Miller to leave in the off season), I reserve the right to switch teams. For now, it is the Sabres (I guess). I'll try to be more excited about this after watching a few games.

Also, I will try not to think of Dunder Mifflin's new parent company when I say Sabre.

If you haven't been watching the Olympic hockey games, you probably have already been told: you are missing out. Luckily for me, I have been watching the games because (1) the USA played Canada last Saturday and (2) I listen to Jim Rome and the discussion for a number of days leading up to that game was USA vs. Canada smack. So I was lucky enough to watch an incredible game last Saturday and a few good games sense.

The problem is this: I have been thinking that maybe I would parlay my recent excitement about hockey into a reason to begin following the NHL...only...I have no team to follow. My first thought was to follow the team Ryan Miller, the USA's goalie, plays for. Two minutes later after looking him up on ESPN.com: The Buffalo Sabres. The Buffalo Sabres? Are you kidding me? No thank you. I have no idea which teams in the NHL are better than others, but I can already tell you where the Sabres sit. Moreover, do I really want to rope myself into liking a team that would require me to visit Buffalo to see them? Again, no thanks.

So, I am turning to you blog stalkers...please find me the NHL team that I should follow. And please...don't give me the Red Sox or Yankees of the NHL. Something promising, but not too popular please. Please provide a good argument for me liking your suggestion.

Thank you.

For the past five+ years, I have been fighting a losing battle against social networking. I am proud to say that I do not have a myspace, facebook, or linkedin account. Despite this, I have a dark secret...and its name is Twitter. You see, it all started a few months ago when I was battling for season Jazz tickets. To be able to answer one of the day's question for season tickets, you were required to follow the 1320 staff on Twitter. I did the unthinkable that morning...[t][w][i][t][t][e][r][.][c][o][m]...I felt like a democrat at a tea party. The first few weeks were innocent - trying to win the radio contests while following Ocho Cinco and Shaq. Then my first few tweets happened:

Going to timp cave. I think I licked the salt/pepper shaker last time @ ~10 yrs old.
10:57 AM Oct 17th, 2009 from mobile web

My second visit to Hicksville. Hicksville? It is just south of Muttontown.
9:08 PM Nov 3rd, 2009 from web

I dare u to name a 5 hr drive more boring than the drive from slc to boise
2:35 AM Nov 25th, 2009 from mobile web

Pretty soon I was hooked. It has the advantages to blogging, but it can be done from my best friend not named Jess - my mobile phone. It was a match made in heaven.

Now you know Liz...there is a reason my blog has run dry. As to update you on the last few days of my life, here are my latest tweets:

Remind me again why I can't watch Lebron and D Wade in the 4th? Oh yeah, we are recording Grey's Anatomy (and The Office).
about 1 hour ago from mobile web

Beck after Ira knocked down his domino office building for the fifth time: "he is not my brother anymore"
about 1 hour ago from mobile web

@insaneinidaho In 6 months, you will be glad to have and extra driver and sad to pay the insurance and repair bills.
about 4 hours ago from web

One minute after downing a full dose of Nyquil: "Jon, I think my water broke"
1:00 AM Feb 3rd from mobile web

Don't worry, it was a false alarm. For further updates, see Jon_Shipley on Twitter. A shout out to my current Twitter follower (my sister Holly - @insaneinidaho).

On Thursday, I went to see the Jazz take on Lebron and Co. Needless to say, it was a memorable game: the Jazz keeping Lebron in check for 3.5 quarters; witnessing greatness as James took over for the last part of the forth; a Jazz rally in the last 20-30 seconds to bring it within two; and a game winning shot by the player least expected to deliver. It was an incredible atmosphere.

What peaked my interest before all of that, however, happened before the game. You see, these NBA players are making insane money (god bless). In my view, they should be pretty appreciative of the good old United States of America. What I don't understand is why very few NBA players put their hand on their heart during the national anthem. I know, I know, the last thing we need is criticism of everyone's patriotism. After all, these thoughts are coming from the dude that garnished many bad looks each morning on the BYU campus when the national anthem came over the loud speakers and I didn't stop in the middle of the sidewalk to pay my respects like the most of the student body. Rather than criticize, I want to praise the two players that seem to always make the effort to put their hand over their heart: Deron Williams and Ronnie Price. Honor. [Begin Ragged Old Flag by Johnny Cash]. That is all.

Frequently, I am frustrated by customer service. I have posted about a few of those experiences in the past. It is only fair that I post about good customer service experiences as well. You will notice that each of these experiences could have easily gone the other way. Both companies took an opportunity where their product had failed me and spun it into a good experience that won me over as a long-term customer.

#1 - Budget Rent A Car

A few weeks ago, I was flying out of the Oakland Airport and needed to return my rental car to Budget. I was running extremely late. By the time I got to Budget, my flight was leaving in 25 minutes. My plan was to pull up to the return line, grab my stuff, and rush to the shuttle without worrying about going through the check-in process. The only hang up was that when I opened the driver door and closed it with the plan to open the back door to retrieve my luggage, all of the car doors locked. I told the attendant (while expressing the urgency) and she basically said, "I swear, this model keeps doing this." This, of course, pissed me off more because it was obviously a problem they knew about, but hadn't addressed, which I was now a victim off. The attendant called a lock smith and I sat and waited...and waited...and waited...10 minutes until my flights departure time and the locksmith finally showed. He noted that he could tell that he had opened this car once before (again, not making me happy). By now, I had lost hope in making my flight. The attendant; however, had not lost hope. She had a worker jump in the car with me and drive me up to the terminal (rather than pointing me to the shuttle). I still didn't think I would make it. 2 minutes until departure, we arrived at the terminal. I went through the first-class check-in (luckily, no questions were asked), and ran up the stairs to find Southwest's agent waiting for me (I could dedicate a whole post on Southwest's good customer service as compared to Delta's). I barely made it. Needless to say, I have rented two cars in the last three weeks from Budget just because of this experience. The Budget attendant had no obligation to have someone drive me to the terminal, but went the extra mile and that made all the difference.

#2 - AutoZone
At the beginning of last summer, I bought a new battery for our boat. It was about $100 at the time. It worked great the first summer, but when I went to fire up the boat at the beginning of this year, it was clear that the battery wasn't giving anything. I delayed taking it to AutoZone, thinking I just needed to charge it. Unfortunately, Jess and I didn't even register the boat this year (the summer was just too busy...I know, sad). Yesterday (1.5 years after purchase), I finally brought the battery to AutoZone for them to check it. They hooked it up, and sure enough, the battery was bad. I braced myself for the talk along these lines: "Well, when pro-rating your old battery, I can give you a new one for $50." To my surprise, that talk never came. The employee just said, "sign here and I will get you a new one." I kept waiting for the pro-ration talk and didn't believe I was getting a replacement for free until I had the battery in hand. I had previously done a lot of business at Checker (it is closer to my house), but when it comes to parts that cost over $20, I'll be making the drive to AutoZone.

During my freshman year at BYU, Scotty Hinckley and I lived in the Raintree together (this was before he snubbed us for a handful of grass burners to live closer to UVSC, but we can leave that for another day). At any rate, I believe Utah's U92 started around when we moved to Provo. At the time, Scott was African American at heart, so we spent a great deal of time listening to U92 on a stereo system that we had rigged to work on all the speakers throughout the apartment (including a 12" woofer - which led to some funny interactions with some dude that lived under us).

The reason for all of this background is to state that we used to win our fair share of U92 radio contests in our day. We would borrow neighbor's cordless phones and each have two lines dialing. We won so many times, that the radio djs began to recognize our phone number and voice and would stop allowing us to win. So many, that we had to start giving them the names of our friends to side step the clause that stated that you couldn't win twice in 30 days. We would work every angle.

Those days have returned, if only for a short time. As explained in a previous post, Scotty and I won season tickets to the Jazz off 1320 KFAN. This past Wednesday, KFAN held a contest among the 20 season ticket winners to upgrade one person's season tickets to lower bowl season tickets. The contest was a game of HORSE (which actually was shortened to UJ for all but the final round). Like always, Scotty went in with a strategy. He informed me of his strategy via chat a few days before the contest:

Scott: "so here's my technique
it's boring but I like my chances
whenever it's my choice on a shot, I just do free throws
I'll practice free throws tuesday night
and then just rule them on the FT"

Long story short, Scotty won the HORSE contest and we are now sitting on lower bowl season jazz tickets ($8,000+ worth of them). He told me that his technique was not very popular...especially when it came down to he and a 5-month pregnant girl in the final round. Fortunately this wasn't a popularity contest. Scotty and I divvied up the tickets the following day and I'm scheduled to go to 25 games - 10 with Scott and 15 with Jess. I was thrilled to win the tickets, and happy to be reminded of some good times at the Raintree.

"No shirts, no shoes, no Holocaust, no service."

Thank you Conan.

Over labor-day weekend, some family/friends and I went to Havasupai. It was incredible. Here is the blog picture/video diary.

Havasu Falls:



Scott and I jumping behind Havasu Falls:



Mooney Falls:



My brothers and I at the bottom of Mooney Falls:


Me in the grapevines:


Candice jumping off a cliff near Beaver Falls:



Matt where Havasu Canyon meets the Colorado:




We met up with a river group on a 15-day float of the Colorado (Lee's Ferry to Diamond Creek):

Q. What do Megan Fox, 1320 Kfan, and the Jazz have in common?

Another post about a supermodel? No...I actually am not on the Megan Fox bandwagon.

A. I won Jazz season freaking tickets from 1320. Well, technically my friend Scotty Hinckley won them, but I gave him the answer (Megan Fox) in exchange for one of the two season tickets he won. Honor!

Last Sunday marked the 6th-year anniversary that Jess and walked down the isle. Okay, we didn't really walk down an isle, but that sounds more poetic. At any rate, Sunday also marked the 6th-year anniversary of a silent battle that Jess and I have been fighting. Those of you who are married (and I'm pretty sure that I know all three of my devoted blog readers - and you are all married) probably also fight silent battles with your spouse. For example (this is not the battle we will be discussing here), Jess and I fight a silent battle each winter when she puts the car heat on feet-vents only and I wait until she is looking the other way to hit the top-vents only button (only to notice my feet burning five minutes later). These are the type of battles that are not worth getting in an argument about, so you try to take care of them silently, only to realize you are losing the battle 6 years later when the repeated offenses have rubbed your senses so raw that you may explode in a fit of rage the next time it happens (at least that is how I feel).

What could you possibly be silently fighting over for six years you ask? The answer: Toothpaste lids. I cannot stand lids or zippers that are not properly secured. This coincides beautifully with Jess's longstanding tradition of never securing any of these things. The Coup de grâce of this battle is the toothpaste lid. A few years ago, I gave up this battle and decided that Jess and I needed our separate tubes of paste. That worked for a few months until she decided that although we have separate tubes in each of our bathroom drawers, it is more convenient in some way that I don't understand to always open my drawer and use my toothpaste. Usually, knowing my hatred towards unsecured toothpaste lids, she will give the lid a half-hearted half twist to appease me; however, this morning was the last straw forcing me to bring this silent battle to the blog battle grounds. I woke up this morning to find my toothpaste on the counter with the lid missing and Jess's toothpaste safely stored in her drawer. I searched for the lid and restored it, but alas, it was too late. Upon brushing my teeth, I squeezed (I really wanted to use squoze here, but apparently that is not a word) the paste out of the tube and received new paste trying to battle its way through the old, dried ring of paste around the opening. Gross. So now Jess has two tubes of paste in her drawer and I have a brand new tube in mine...and we will continue to fight this battle until our death.

Just to short-end Jess's most likely defense argument, yes, I know that if I brushed my teeth each night, I could monitor this more closely...but this cannot be the answer!

(In a restroom stall in the Beaver gas station with the big chair)

Beck: This potty flushes automatically.
Me: You're right.
Beck: We don't have a potty like this.
Me: Nope, we don't.
Beck: Maybe I can get one for my birthday.
Me: (laughing) Maybe so.

(Fast forward to putting him to bed last night in Lehi)

Me: Did you like California?
Beck: Yeah...we are going back there when I turn 4.
Me: Yeah, after you turn 4 and it gets warm.
Beck: But...I want eat my cake first.
Me: Okay.
Beck: I'm going to open lots of presents at my birthday.
Me: You are, what kinds of presents?
Beck: I'm going to get lots of toys and a new potty.

Note: I don't want to eclipse my amorous exchange with Heidi Klum with this post...for more on that, read on.