February 25, 2008 3:14 pm : Comments 000
After months of trumpeting the Starwood Preferred Guest program and mere hours after reaffirming my preference for its Westin Hotels chain, I regrettably find myself doing a complete 180 as I declare a personal boycott of all Starwood properties.
According to the New York Post, Starwood – whose properties include the Westin, Sheraton, St. Regis, Le Meridien, and Four Points hotels – has reportedly notified affinity program members that it plans to dramatically raise the number of reward points needed to get a free night at more than 200 of its properties – in some cases by as much as 133%. I never got the email notice supposedly sent to members, so I’ll have to trust the Post on this one.
If it’s true, it’s a big disappointment. Unlike the major airlines, which almost never let me use my frequent flyer miles when I want to, I’ve had great experiences with the Starwood program. Rooms are almost always available where I want to stay and on my preferred night(s). I must have stayed at one of my favorite hotels in the country, the Westin on Market Street in San Francisco, using Starwood points more than a half dozen times in the last year. It would have been half a dozen and one times, but there was an occasion last summer when I was told the hotel was fully booked – even though I was able to subsequently get in by securing a room at the same hotel for the very same night via hotels.com. (Hmmmm… so much for no blackout dates, eh?)
As one blogger pointedly noted, it appears that the Starwood program has been incredibly successful and the company now wants to “steal back tons of Starpoints.” Having used my Starwood card almost exclusively since I received it more than a year ago, I feel cheated. If Starwood wants to change the rules of the game, I’m sure the fine print that came with the sign-up sheet gave the company the right to do so. What may be legally permissible, however, is not in this case customer service-wise. The latter would dictate that those of us who essentially invested in the company by using its co-branded American Express card should be permitted to continue redeeming existing points under the prevailing terms when we signed up for the card.
Assuming Starwood won’t be adding such a grandfather clause, I hope other disappointed program members join me in boycotting the company’s properties. As Starwood is certainly not alone in upping its point redemption requirements recently, I am not sure which, if any, major chain will become my new favorite. There are plenty of quality independent hotels to choose from; perhaps I’ll give some of them a go. Who knows – maybe I’ll even find some with the marketing smarts to offer special discounts for disgruntled Starwood refugees in need of a new hotel to call home.
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February 22, 2008 2:42 pm : Comments 000
With the snow piling up outside my office window and the ice and slush taking over midtown’s sidewalks 23 stories below, can you fault me for having California on my mind?
It’s not just a weather thing. I love California. If not for some immovable practicalities, I’d pack up and head up there tomorrow – earthquakes, fires, and landslides be damned. For now, I’ll just have to resign myself to visitor status.
Beverly Hills is just one of the many places I like to visit there. Don’t get me wrong – without question, I’m totally a fish out of water there. I’m not a posh guy, I have no clue what’s “hot” or trendy at any given time, I don’t shop in exclusive boutiques, and I don’t get dazzled by celebrities. Hmm…maybe that’s the appeal – the people and lifestyle there are so foreign, I’m drawn to it like a tourist from a small town in Arkansas is drawn to the top of the Empire State Building (And no, I’ve never been. Seriously).
Outsider or not, I’ve been there enough times to get a feel for places to go and places to avoid. Here’s a quick peek at some of my faves:
Where (and Where Not) to Stay
I typically avoid pretentious, trendy hotels. The rooms are often small, the service snotty and often unprofessional, and too often the bar or restaurant is closed because of a private party. I usually go with a Westin property, except when I’m staying in the Los Angeles area.
The Avalon
My favorite hotel is called The Avalon, a retro-style boutique just minutes from the heart of Beverly Hills. The place is indeed fashionable (and, for the record, the bar was closed for a private party one night during my last visit), but the service at the front desk and the restaurant is incredibly friendly and efficient. Think East Coast polish without the accompanying snide attitude. It boasts a romantic outdoor pool and a highly endorsable restaurant called the blue and blue. While the menu is somewhat limited, the food is creative, delicious, and artfully presented. Even their burger is amazing.
Sadly, The Avalon was fully booked one of the nights I was in town (darn those Grammys!), so I checked into Maison 140, which is owned by the same company. Let’s just say you wouldn’t know it to stay there.
Maison 140
Maison 140 bills itself as an “intimate” hotel, which I’ve learned is the hospitality industry’s precious little euphemism for ridiculously small rooms that are badly in need of a major renovation [note to reader: photo to right is actual size]. The hotel staff is a tad snooty, save for this charming woman from Fiji who works the graveyard shift at the front desk. Admittedly, Maison 140 is better situated than the Avalon (it’s located right in the heart of Beverly Hills, around the corner from the famed Peninsula Hotel) and the easy-access self-parking is a big plus, but it’s still a far cry from The Avalon. If you can’t get into The Avalon, I’d recommend the renovated Residence Inn about a mile down the road instead.
Where to Refuel
Peet’s Coffee
As I’ve noted before, I’m a big fan of Peet’s Coffee, a chain of coffee shops mostly located on the West Coast (count your blessings, Starbucks).
The Peet’s on Beverly Drive in Beverly Hills is filled with customers from the moment the doors open at 6 a.m. I couldn’t help but notice that the Starbucks down the street was nearly empty when I passed by. The same is true in San Francisco and Boston: at the Peet’s I visited in those cities, the closest Starbucks were invariably empty.
If I was in executive management at Starbucks, I’d be worried about Peet’s potential expansion plans. If I was a shareholder, well, I would have bailed out of the company a long time ago.
Urth Caffé
If you are hankering for a healthy breakfast and are willing to pay a premium to eat organic, I highly recommend Urth Caffé, which is right across the street from Peet’s. If you are looking for a comfortable perch to watch the beautiful people of Southern California and their dogs, this is the place.
Massimo Ristorante
New York is widely regarded as having the best restaurants, but I got to tell you, the Los Angeles area is definitely a close second. One of the best meals I’ve had in recent memory was at Massimo Ristorante located right off Rodeo Drive. Despite its upscale location, the place welcomes us mere mortals. In fact, my cousin and I were seated at one of the best tables in the house. Everything at Massimo was perfect: the perfectly chilled martini, the atmosphere, the décor, the service, and of course, the food. I can’t wait to go back!
Where to Walk … Or Rather How Not to Walk
Jaywalking is a fact of life in New York. If there’s a break in traffic, you go for it. One of Beverly Hills’ finest was kind enough to remind me last week that it is a big no-no everywhere else. I believe the term he used was “illegal”.
It was a glorious sunny day and I was in the heart of Beverly Hills’ shopping district. Spotting an interesting clothing store across the street, I stepped to the curb and looked left, looked right, looked left again (my mom taught me well) and then trotted across to the other side.
You don’t do that in Beverly Hills. Just ask Johnny Depp.
A motorcycle officer witnessed my civil disobedience and pulled me over… near the dress shirts in the clothing store. He was quite angry. Apparently, he had called to me to stop and wasn’t pleased that I ignored him. The truth is, I honestly didn’t hear him. He demanded my driver’s license, asked me a battery of questions, including the purpose of my visit and what I did for a living. I apologized profusely for my transgression and begged him not to write me a ticket. Alas, he spared me the ticket, for which I am very grateful.
Imagine getting a ticket for jaywalking while inside some snooty store. Oh, the indignity…
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February 15, 2008 4:01 pm : Comments 001
Let’s face it, most airlines are indifferent about public relations. Although the major ones were once ranked among the most creative and effective brand marketers, today they are more concerned with trying to figure out how to cram more people on the plane than with making sure passengers are happy. United’s friendly skies are no longer quite so friendly, Delta is hardly ready when you are, and few travelers would say that American Airlines is still something special in the air.
But there is hope. I have found a smart, engaging airline public relations executive who is quite remarkable not only for her media smarts, but also for her savvy ability to permanently disarm one of her company’s critics. I’m talking about Abby Lunardini, director of corporate communications for Virgin America.
My dealings with Ms. Lunardini began last month when I contacted her for comment on an item I was considering about Virgin America. Without going into details, suffice to say that it probably wouldn’t have been a blog post that Ms. Lunardini or her bosses would have treasured.
As you know, I had already written some critical things about my experiences with this upstart airline, and had exchanged emails with senior management in the past. I wasn’t sure what type of reception I’d receive from Ms. Lunardini, but I assumed she knew the history and would, accordingly, hardly count herself among the blog’s biggest fans.
Ms. Lunardini defied my expectations. There was no cold shoulder, no blatant or subtle hostility, no Target-esque brush off of a mere blogger, and no tersely worded official statement or tight-lipped “no comment” in response to my less-than-favorable inquiry. Her professionalism, sincerity, and responsiveness were quite impressive.
But what really stands out is the way she subsequently used the opportunity provided by our dialogue to follow up on a request I made months ago to a Virgin America flight attendant for an autographed photo of Sir Richard Branson for my colleague Jackie Condie, who absolutely reveres the guy for his business acumen and PR smarts. Ms. Lunardini let me know that the photo request had not been forgotten and that she was hoping to get the photo signed when she saw Sir Richard at a party the company was throwing to celebrate the launch of service to San Diego.
Now here’s where I must confess to having an utterly shameless moment: I couldn’t help but ask Ms. Lunardini if it might be possible for Jackie to attend the San Diego celebration and meet Sir Richard in person. Not only did she oblige, she insisted that I come to the party as well. And so Jackie and I briefly found ourselves in southern California this week enjoying weather that should be considered sinful in mid-February.
Let’s just say Ms. Lunardini throws a heck of a party.
With help from an impressive group of representatives from the D.C. and Beverly Hills offices of Ogilvy Public Relations Worldwide, the flawlessly executed party at a trendy San Diego hotel was done in real style and class. Everything was to the king’s taste.
The party was filled with interesting people, ranging from Chamber of Commerce folks to Virgin America vendors. We also met a woman who made a critical video of Virgin America after her flight was delayed for some five hours. She, too, had been invited to the party.
Despite all the pressure Ms. Lunardini was clearly under, she still found time to make good on her promise. When we gave our names at the door, a representative from Ogilvy without looking at the list attentively said to Jackie, “Oh yes, you’re the one we need to make sure meets Mr. Branson.” You would have thought we were VIPs.
Just after 9 p.m., we were instructed to go to a quiet area upstairs. A few minutes later, we were introduced to Sir Richard who shared a few words and graciously agreed to pose for a photo with Jackie. Later we learned he was actually rather sick with the flu. You’d never have guessed it.
I’ve worked with Jackie for more than 10 years and I don’t recall a time she’s ever looked quite so thrilled. Ok, well, maybe at her wedding. Some people have asked us if spending a few minutes in his company was really worth the hassle and aggravation of making a cross-country trip in two days. Seeing the look on her face as she shook the man’s hand, there is no question about it. Definitely yes!
So many thanks Ms. Lunardini for an experience Jackie and I will never forget, and for changing this blogger’s perception of airline PR people. Like Virgin America itself, you are clearly a standout in your crowd.
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November 12, 2007 2:52 pm : Comments 004
I’ve just returned from Toronto, the city where I was born and raised. Although I haven’t lived there for more than 25 years, I go back often to visit my family. While TO still feels like home to me, this trip I noticed just how much things have changed in recent years.
Daily Newspaper Dropping F Bombs
Crazy as it may seem, Toronto has four daily newspapers – not bad for a city of only 2.48 million residents (five million if you include people living in the ‘burbs). As far as city dailies go, they are considerably better than most local U.S. newspapers when it comes to depth and breadth of reporting. Then again, I may not be the most impartial judge; I was once a reporter with The Toronto Star.
In my day, The Globe and Mail, which fashions itself as “Canada’s National Newspaper,” had a decidedly conservative bent. Picture an uptight, pipe-smoking, cardigan-attired, scotch-sipping WASP male sitting in a leather armchair in a wood-paneled study bedecked with a prominent photo of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and you pretty much have an idea of the typical Globe reader, at least in my mind.
Well, either my mental image was way off base or The Globe certainly has dramatically expanded its readership. In a story I admit I don’t quite understand, the newspaper unabashedly drops the F bomb multiple times without the usual ellipsis that most mainstream newspapers use to denote curse words. Granted the word in question is part of the formal name of the organization being profiled (the, ahem, “Fuck Death Foundation”), but I’m pretty sure that the old geezer in the armchair who suffered a major cardiac event after seeing such common crudeness in his beloved paper would argue that’s just splitting hairs.
U.S. Currency No Longer Welcome
For at least the past two decades, stores throughout Toronto gladly accepted – and gave a significant premium – on U.S. currency. The Canadian dollar, or Loonie as it is called because of the bird engraved on the dollar coin, at one point was worth some 35 percent less than the greenback, making Toronto a comparatively inexpensive place for Americans to visit.
But the Loonie has soared like an eagle against the U.S. dollar in recent months, closing the gap that most Canadians and professional currency-watchers had long taken for granted. Last week during my trip, the Canadian currency reached a record $1.10 against its American counterpart. Canadian consumers are understandably euphoric about the shift in currency buying power, and are flocking in droves to take advantage of it. Border crossing waits are reportedly as long as five hours, an added bonus for Canadian travelers. You see, Canadians seemingly derive great pleasure from waiting in line; most do it with great regularity and equally great patience. You could say that after hockey, it’s the national pastime. (Yes, even more so than curling).
Anyway, back to my trip. Obviously, I read newspapers and knew before I went north that the dollar-to-dollar exchange rate was no longer what it used to be and that I would have to take a hit if I stuck with American currency. What I wasn’t prepared for, however, was just how many places would simply no longer accept the greenback. The Loonie has been fluctuating to such a degree that stores don’t know how to calculate prices for people who want to pay with American money.
Perhaps I’m mistaken, but I thought the cashier at the sandwich shop said “thanks, but no thanks” to my U.S. dollars with a particularly defiant and gleeful tone. After years of having their Loonie punishably discounted, I guess it’s understandable if Canadians want to strut a little, but as The Globe and Mail might say, just watch that f*@%ing karma.
Banks No Longer Keeping Banking Hours
Canada is a country not known for the diversity of its financial institutions. There are just five banks holding more than 90% of the country’s financial assets. Growing up, there was no real differentiation among them when it came to pricing, products, and services. Think of it this way: They were about as consumer-centric as your local cable company. Regardless of the name on the door, bank branches were uniformly open Monday through Thursday from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. and open until 4:00 on Fridays. In hindsight, the only customer-friendly effort they made was to make sure there were never enough tellers to service the long queue of people looking to conduct transactions. Remember, Canadians like lining up.
But apparently that’s all changed. In a story that jolted me more than my Tim Hortons java, I read that banks are extending their lobby hours, with two banks announcing that select branches will even have Sunday hours. Talk about a paradigm shift!
I will bet you ten Loonies to one Greenback that the rest of the Canadian banks quickly follow suit. While other things about the business of banking may have evolved, I’m fairly certain the herd mentality they share is not one of them.
And Finally… Anne Murray is Not a Lesbian
I’ve never cared much for the music of Anne Murray, but I’ve long admired the singer for not getting caught up in her own press, as the saying goes. Stories about her always left the reader with the impression of a decent, down-to-earth, proud Canadian who never let the fame and fortune swell her head. No doubt it is because of this benign image and reputation that landed her a line in that South Park song “Blame Canada” a few years back. She is deservedly a national icon.
But apparently even Ms. Murray has some skeletons in her closet. She recently confided to a Globe and Mail reporter that, 40-something years ago, she had a two-and-a-half-year affair with a much older married man who also happened to have two kids. She later married – and subsequently divorced – the guy. In the story, she also denied rumors that she is a lesbian. Supposedly these rumors have been circulating for a while, not that I ever heard them. Admittedly, this is hardly scandalous stuff given the current antics of Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, and their ilk, but keep in mind that Anne Murray’s image is deeply, deeply entrenched as that of someone far more squeaky clean and, well, dull. I guess Canada’s songbird wasn’t so innocently sweet after all.
Still, as much as things appear to have changed in Toronto, it was comforting to see some things remain the same. Despite Toronto’s emergence as a world-class cosmopolitan center, liquor and wine can still only be bought at a government-controlled store. Early Saturday night I went to one to pick up a bottle of wine. Estimating a 20-minute wait at the checkout, I decided my sister would get her house warming gift on my next visit. Canadians in general may like waiting in lines, but I do not.
Hmmm… maybe Canada’s not the only thing that’s changed over the years.
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October 19, 2007 9:35 am : Comments 008
I know I promised to not write about airlines for six months, but Jackie is off on a well-deserved vacation and I’m fairly sure she has no Internet access out on that big boat at sea. So I’m going to slip in one last airline beef that I just have to get off my chest.
I’m sitting on an airplane (Virgin America if you really must know) and watching yet another inane demonstration on how to fasten a seatbelt. What gets me is that after the demonstration, passengers are advised to shut off all electronic devices, including laptops, cell phones, and pagers (pagers? Who still uses a pager?).
Is it just me, or is there something ironic about being left to our own devices (no pun intended) when it comes to operating the sophisticated technology stuff they say interferes with the flight controls, but apparently we need a choreographed walk-through on those complicated seat belt buckles.
Yeah, Anthony, I know: “My name is Eric and I am an airline blogging addict.”
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October 18, 2007 1:09 pm : Comments 003
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I’m quite open about my fondness for San Francisco and for what locals refer to as the Bay Area. The region attracts some of the smartest, weirdest, and most passionate people in the nation, and if you love the outdoors as much as I do, it’s a delightful playground.
I confess to getting a rush every time I drive through Silicon Valley and see signs for places like Cupertino, Mountain View, Santa Clara, and Palo Alto. New York might be the nation’s center for finance and culture, but in Northern California they actually create things. At any given time, the guy or gal I’m passing (I drive like a New Yorker) could be a designer at Apple, a programmer at Google, an engineer at Intel, or a senior R&D executive at HP. Or the person who has made an absolute killing selling black mock turtlenecks to Steve Jobs. The folks out here have literally changed the world, and it’s exhilarating just to be among them.
Over the years, I’ve developed some fairly strong opinions on the best places to stay and eat in San Francisco. I always appreciate travel suggestions, so I thought I’d share a few of my own. I’ve limited my recommendations only to places in the financial and Union Square area, but if you have the time, I strongly encourage you to venture out into the city’s wonderful neighborhoods.
Where to Stay
The Prescott Hotel
San Francisco is filled with boutique hotels that are usually described on places like TravelAdvisor.com as having “charm” or being “quaint.” I generally avoid these hotels because too often “charm” means small and “quaint” means there is no view. One of the best known in this category is The Prescott, which is owned by the Kimpton Group (heck, they even refer to themselves as a boutique hotel on their website). I once booked a room at The Prescott Hotel, but checked out minutes later. The room was uncomfortably small and overlooked the side of another building. To be fair though, a lot of guests love the place (I will tell you how I know that in a minute).
Westin Market Street
My favorite hotel, on the corner of Third and Market, is a recently converted Westin. I’ve been staying here for more than a decade, first when it was the ANA Hotel and then The Argent. I like the place because the sizeable rooms have floor-to-ceiling windows, afford wonderful unobstructed views, and get flooded with natural light throughout the entire day. Third and Market also is an ideal location because it borders the financial district and Union Square, the Moscone Convention Center, and the Museum of Modern Art. AT&T Park, home of the San Francisco Giants baseball team, is an easy 15 minute walk. The Peet’s Coffee, Whole Foods, and the Verizon store I raved about earlier are all nearby.
I never cared much for the staff at this hotel under the previous ownership, but a no-nonsense hotel management firm out of Dallas has taken over the property and is fast making improvements. If you can afford it, or are fortunate to get upgraded as I once did (thank you Starwood Preferred!), I highly recommend the 06 line of rooms on the higher floors, which are end-of-the-hall suites.
Third and Market has quietly become Starwood row, as there also is a St. Regis, a Sheraton, and a W within blocks. I’ve never cared much for the W chain, but the one in San Francisco is quite a happening place, particularly for twenty-somethings. The Four Seasons also is located just off Third and Market.
If you prefer to stay in Union Square, I was quite fond of the Pan Pacific Hotel, but it has since been taken over by the JW Marriott so I can’t vouch for the property.
Places to Eat
Kokkari Estiatorio
A client took me here in June and I couldn’t wait to return to the wonderfully delightful Greek restaurant. I’ve never been to Greece, but I’m told this place is quite authentic. Everything is wonderfully fresh and delicious. And despite being one of San Francisco’s most popular restaurants, the staff is pleasantly down-to-earth and extremely accommodating. The restaurant also has some fabulous wines in the $40-$50 range. Given the quality of the food, Kokkari is quite reasonably priced, at least by New York standards. Take my advice and go when you’re next in town. You’ll thank me later.
Aqua
For many years, Aqua was my absolute favorite restaurant anywhere. Although it was always pricey, it served some of the most glorious foods I’ve ever tasted in one of the most beautiful dining rooms in the country. But then executive chef and partner Michael Mina left, now operating his namesake restaurant at the Westin St. Francis Hotel (as well as others around the country). Aqua subsequently expanded, opening new locations and introducing a prix fix menu. While the restaurant remains popular with the trendy crowd, the food no longer has the same pizzazz, and given the paltry portions, seems a tad overpriced.
Having said that, I still recommend Aqua for its signature tuna tartare dish, which unquestionably is still the best I’ve tasted anywhere. You can have it classically prepared or with a blend of moroccan spices, lemon confit, and fresh herbs. Fortunately, you can order the dish a la carte. I highly recommend going to Aqua to sample its tuna tartare and a glass of wine (it’s a great place to meet for a drink) and then go somewhere else for dinner.
Postrio
Wolfgang Puck’s Postrio is another popular local restaurant but, as the travel experts at Fodor’s write, “Gone are the days when Postrio was the destination.” The restaurant is located in the aforementioned Prescott Hotel, its home since opening in 1989. Overall, I’m as underwhelmed by the food served in the main dining room as I am by the hotel that houses it. Its bar food, however, is another story. The place makes its own gourmet lamb, veal, and duck sausages that are served with various sauces and pretzels. The magnificent three sausage dish costs all of $11, making it quite possibly the best gourmet food deal anywhere. Postrio’s sandwiches also are quite good, and I also recommend the mixed greens salad, for its freshness and generous size. Postrio also serves reasonably priced wines by the glass.
I frequently meet Prescott guests at Postrio, all of whom seem to quite like the hotel.
Dottie’s True Blue Café
It’s always dangerous to use superlatives, but I’m quite comfortable using one when talking about Dottie’s. This neighborhood joint serves the best – the very best – American breakfast anywhere. Jacob, our creative director, seconds me on this as do, it seems, many others. A few words of caution: The restaurant borders San Francisco’s rather seedy Tenderloin district and a line often begins forming even before the tiny place opens. Trust me, their fresh-baked muffins and the world’s most perfect pancakes are worth the trouble.
I’ll leave it to others to tell you where to shop and which tourist “must sees” are worth the price of admission. I’m just the Lodging and Food & Wine Guy.
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October 16, 2007 7:00 am : Comments 002
Kermit and the Jolly Green Giant were clearly ahead of their time. Everybody seems to be going green these days, even hotels.
While I’d like to believe that Mother Nature has finally gotten to the hospitality industry, I cannot help but be cynical about the hotel industry’s collective environmental epiphany. Do they really care about the planet… or about attracting more eco-friendly consumers who, it just so happens, tend to be more upscale and affluent? And as for the little card they leave by the bed suggesting you reuse your towels and forego clean sheets? I’m sure the fact that they stand to save millions of dollars each year on laundry suds by not having to do all that washing anymore has nothing to do with it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for trying to protect and preserve our natural resources. I think it’s great that hotels are encouraging their guests to be a little less self-indulgent and more planet-aware. I’m just not buying their motivation behind it.
In the end, I suppose the fact that hotels are pushing more environmentally benign practices is more important than why they are doing it. So, with that in mind, let me offer a few additional suggestions to facilitate the greening of hotels, motels, and inns everywhere:
- Eliminate your obscene Internet access charges for guests who agree to receive an electronic copy of their bill instead of a loooong paper printout – entire forests will be saved!
- Give Earth First! free use of your conference centers and lobbies to stage their awareness protests and offer your best corporate rates to the group’s members.
- Rig your plumbing and lighting so that guests must listen to pre-recorded environmental messages from Al Gore before opening a faucet, flushing the toilet, or turning on a lamp.
- Replace the tiny liquor and wine bottles in the mini-bars with full-size ones to lessen the burden of all those little plastic containers on community recycling efforts. Of course, the hotel should absorb the cost of the bigger bottles as their way of “paying” the world back for its plastic footprint.
- Stop offering pay-for-view movies. That only encourages guests to watch television, which in turn causes more electricity consumption and leads to excessive couch-potatoism.
- Permanently set all your televisions to the Discovery Channel and allow guests free viewings of An Inconvenient Truth.
- Instead of offering your Jewish customers airline mileage or hotel affinity points, make contributions on their behalf to the Jewish National Fund’s EZ Tree Program.
- Tell USA Today you are no longer willing to accept free bulk deliveries of the newspaper and stop selling newspapers and magazines in your gift shops. If guests are in need of news, they can get it on the Internet thanks to your free online access. More forests will be saved!
- Encourage guests to take home your logo emblazoned bathrobes free of charge. Otherwise you will have to wash them repeatedly, thereby undermining your water saving efforts.
- Offer special discounts to guests who agree to take showers together. This, too, will aid your water conservation efforts.
Who knows? Maybe one day we will witness the spectacle of Paris Hilton accepting a Nobel Prize on behalf of the hotel chain whose name she bears.
Now that’s hot!
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October 15, 2007 3:48 pm : Comments 000
Is it just me who can’t help start singing “Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco Treat” every time I hear the bell of a San Francisco cable car? The commercial hasn’t aired in years yet every time I visit the City by the Bay it still keeps playing in my head over-and-over-and-over…
Is there a clinic that treats Rice-A-Roni Jingle on the Brain?
Now repeat after me:
Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco Treat. Rice-A-Roni the flavor can’t be beat…
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10:10 am : Comments 001
Were it not for the Twin Pine Casino on the far edge of town, Middletown, CA could easily be mistaken for Smalltown, USA. There are no Starbucks, no Applebees, and no McDonalds to satisfy the coffee and junk food whims of local residents. There are no Targets, no Macy’s, and no 7-Elevens to be found. The town’s main drag, Calistoga Street (a.k.a. Highway 29), is a mere mile long. There are plenty of available parking spaces and you’ll never see anyone hustling-and-bustling by you on the sidewalk as they pound away on their BlackBerry or Motorola Q. Toto, we are definitely NOT in New York anymore.
Allow me to play Travel Guide
Locals tell me that Middletown, so-called because it was a resting place for stagecoaches traveling between Calistoga and Clear Lake, had long been dominated by extremist “America Love It or Leave It”, far-right Bible-thumpers. In earlier days, however, it attracted a less godly crowd. The treacherous road through Mount St. Helena into town was once the preferred launching site for countless stagecoach robberies. While police haven’t reported too many horse-drawn hijacks in recent decades, there’s still trouble to be found if you know where to look… or what to ask for. A few years ago, I had the audacity to ask this heavily tattooed, motorcycle-leather-wearing, menacing-looking guy working the register at the local gas mart if they sold contact lens solution. He let me know with one threatening glare that “real men” don’t wear contact lenses, at least not in Middletown.
But alas, that may no longer be the case. Middletown has been quietly undergoing a transformation in recent years. The area is increasingly becoming popular with artists, artisans, and New Age people who appreciate the area’s mountainous beauty, peaceful tranquility, and ideal climate (well, except for winter when it rains a lot). The 1600+ acre Harbin Hot Springs resort has become the biggest employer in the area and a wealthy high tech entrepreneur is launching a New Age time-share. The long-timers don’t care much for the newer arrivals, but they live a peaceful co-existence. Think of this place as a rural Switzerland for the left and the right.
Middletown may be small, but it boasts some eating and drinking establishments worthy of note. There is an upscale restaurant called Boar’s Breath, which is run by a couple named Frank and Suzette Stephenson. Frank, the chef, prefers to laden his dishes with lots of butter and cream (no tofu and sprouts here), so the selection is extremely limited if you are on a low fat diet. Frank served a steak special one evening that was as good as any I’ve had at New York’s best brasseries. What also impresses me about this place is how they mix drinks – It’s one of the few places I’ve ever been to where they take the time and effort to chill a martini bone cold. They also serve some excellent wines by the glass, including those from nearby Langtry Estate & Vineyards (which now incorporates those formerly under the Guenoc Estates label).
Two other must-tries are the gourmet coffee shop called Mugshots Espresso and a specialty sandwich shop called La Sirena (go for the tuna salad sandwich!). A woman named Diana, who emigrated to Middletown from Holland, owns both. Although there is nowhere to buy a daily copy of The New York Times in Middletown, a copy of the Sunday edition is delivered each week to Mugshots. Consider yourself forewarned: You will have to fight me for it when I’m in town.
Middletown’s supermarket, Hardesters, is also the town’s hardware store. I can’t speak much to the quality of their lugnuts and wrenches, but their fresh produce is far superior to what you would expect at some of the best gourmet food stores in New York. Granted, this is California, so maybe that’s not exactly a big surprise. Hardesters has a pretty extensive selection of gourmet food and other products, including – thank goodness – contact lens solution. Another great feature: there are no lines at the checkout, one of my pet peeves. I wish I could shop here every day.
If you are a beer aficionado, The Mount St. Helena Brewing Company is definitely worth checking out. The restaurant and bar brews its award-winning beers on site that are served up for a mere $2 a pint on nights when football games are on. The place also serves a pretty darn good chicken parmigiana sandwich and the pizza also looks pretty tasty. Unfortunately, I will probably forever remember this restaurant as the place where I watched the Yankees’ pathetic 2007 series ending loss to the Cleveland Indians (not that anyone in the place cared but me). The restaurant’s owners are looking for a beer distributor, so if you know someone in the business, maybe you can help them out.
If you are looking to spend the night in the Middletown area, I highly recommend Spirit Lake Bed and Breakfast about 20 miles north, which is run by an engaging couple named Peter and Elaine Marie. They bought and built their property after seeing an ad in the Penny Saver News. You would be hard pressed to find anyone who will make you feel more welcome than Peter and Elaine. As an example of just how small the world really is, they also own a B&B in Hawaii that, as it turns out, is literally next door to my cousin’s house!
However, all is not ideal ideal in Middletown, like most places. The town and surrounding area are vexed by chronic unemployment, which is being blamed, at least in part, for the growing drug problem. Crystal meth labs are rampant here, creating a virulent colony of drug addicts who need to beg, borrow, and steal to feed their addictions. Diane informed me last week that she has to remove seating she had put in front of her sandwich shop because it had become a place of choice for these drug addicts to congregate.
Peter and Elaine aside, many people in the Middletown area are not particularly friendly or welcoming of outsiders. To be fair, that’s a common enough reaction among the Old Guard whenever a town’s humble character and quiet way of life are perceived as threatened by aggressive land development and the resulting influx of new residents. My colleague Jackie sees the same thing happening in her backyard down by Princeton, NJ (it pains me to admit this, but Jackie is actually a born and bred Jersey Girl).
Having lived in New York City for nearly 20 years, I’ve grown somewhat immune to standoffish locals, so I can deal with chilly Middletowners and not let their somewhat icy demeanor dampen my affinity for their town. Next time you are in the Napa Valley region, it’s worth the 20-minute drive up Mount St. Helena to check out Middletown and the Lake County region. Just make sure you’re well-rested. The dangerously steep and winding road leading into town is a real doozy that would test even the great Grand Prix racer Jackie Stewart’s driving skills!
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October 12, 2007 10:10 am : Comments 001
Whether good or bad, the world generally perceives New Yorkers as a hurried and impatient lot, continually on the move, always rushing off to somewhere more important than the place we are at a given moment. Without question, many of us take a certain pride in being seen as the most demanding, of marking time in nanoseconds, of living our daily lives under the rule of the “New York Minute“.
But the truth is that New Yorkers tolerate some of the most – if not the most – apathetic customer service in the nation. Forget the notion of a New York minute if you need to pick up toiletries or a gourmet coffee – it’ll cost you 15 of those minutes at least. And if you need technical help at a wireless store or, heaven forbid, need to cross a bridge or tunnel? You’ll need to set your watch to count off in quarter-hour increments. Despite what Don Henley may suggest, everything can change in a New York minute … but only if you’re not stuck in line at Duane Reade, Starbucks, or the George Washington Bridge.
I’m always reminded of this myth/reality disconnect whenever I am in San Francisco. California is famous for its slower pace and less stress lifestyle, yet residents here enjoy a prompt level of customer service that far exceeds the standards found in New York City, even at the most everyday of establishments. Generally speaking, there’s an attentiveness to customers and an urgency to help them complete their transactions and get them on their merry way that is in stark contrast to life in the Big Apple. No exaggeration, it’s akin to culture shock to this beaten-down NY consumer. Budgeting extra time to stand in long lines is part of my daily ritual.
Consider the evidence:
Walgreens vs. Duane Reade
Like Duane Reade in New York, there seems to be a Walgreens on every block in San Francisco. That’s where the similarities end.
The managers of San Francisco-based Walgreens seem to realize their customers want to shop in a clean, logically-organized, uncluttered, friendly store, and that they have better things to do than stand aimlessly in line once they’ve found everything they need. If the queue becomes more than three or four people deep, cashiers call for backup without reservation. Employees performing stockwork and other functions drop what they are doing and open a register to move the people through the line quicker.
While there are a few Walgreens in New York, the city is unquestionably dominated by a chain called Duane Reade. Poor customer service is Duane Reade’s hallmark. Forget death and taxes, the only thing you can REALLY bet the house on is that you will never, ever go to a Duane Reade store in New York and not wait in line – even if there are no customers in the store. You’ll simply have to wait while the cashier finishes talking to her colleague, changes the receipt paper, or perhaps fills the coin slots in the till, breaking open the individual coin rolls and counting out every last quarter, dime, nickel and penny packed in them before ringing you up. I am not exaggerating.
Peet’s vs. Starbucks
There is absolutely no debate among coffee aficionados that Peet’s Coffee & Tea, an expanding, locally-based chain whose stores are predominately in California, is far superior to Starbucks when it comes to deep roasted coffee goodness. But their baristas are also worthy of praise.
People who work at Peet’s take great pride in their product – and it shows. They are friendly and energetic, and quick to pleasantly greet you and take your order. The flavor of the coffee is consistent and fresh, and is seemingly made with considerable care rather than with the soulless push of a button. Soothing classical music can be heard in the background. While lines sometimes do form during peak times, it’s not for a lack of hustle on the employees’ parts. It’s simply the popularity of the product. Most important, Peet’s has a pure gourmet coffee shop feel to it. When I walk in there, I don’t put up my guard that they are going to try to cross-sell me 18 other types of products.
Starbucks in New York has essentially become just a fast food chain – minus the “fast” bit. At the store in my neighborhood, the lines move maddeningly slow, they frequently pour coffee that isn’t fully brewed, and on more than one occasion, they actually didn’t have any coffee ready. The baristas like to blast music through tenth-rate quality speakers and while there may indeed be people who truly enjoy “The music of Starbucks,” I’m not one of them. I go to a coffee store just to buy coffee.
Verizon San Francisco vs. Verizon New York
Verizon may be synonymous with bad customer service, but someone forgot to tell Muki, the manager at the company store at 768 Market Street, just off Union Square. I’ve had to visit the store on numerous occasions, and have been impressed with not only the speed of the service but with the knowledge of its tech support people (maybe it has something to do with San Francisco’s proximity to Silicon Valley). I’ve always managed to get in and out of the store within 10 minutes.
Verizon stores in New York are a service nightmare. A while back my colleague Jeff had some problems with his cell phone that required frequent lunchtime visits to the Verizon store near our office. Whenever he announced he was heading over there, we all knew to block out a solid two hours before he would be back and available again for meetings, conference calls, etc.
As an aside, when I casually mentioned to an employee at the Market Street store how much better the service was than Verizon’s New York stores, he remarked, “You know we just had someone else here from New York who told us the same thing.”
Whole Foods on Fourth Street vs. Whole Foods New York City
Whole Foods is a retail delight for anyone who prefers to eat healthy, fresh food. The one on Fourth Street in San Francisco has these wonderfully prepared hot foods and a comfortable seating area to sit and enjoy them. Now here is the best part: I’ve visited the store at peak times and I’ve never had to wait in line. There are plenty of open registers at all times, and cashiers manning them are quick to get you on the move.
While the stock selection and prepared foods are equally good in New York, it’s the untraditional one line to check out that earns the Whole Foods stores their demerits. Simply, it takes too long to check out. Literally, the hot bowl of soup you were looking forward to enjoying for lunch is lukewarm by the time you pay for it and grab a seat. I suppose I could try going at an off-peak hour, but it seems more logical to accommodate customers who want to eat lunch at lunchtime. The New York Times did a profile late last June on the advantage to Whole Foods way of queuing people in one main line and then feeding them to registers as they free up – like they do it at Motor Vehicles – but the “longer the line, the shorter the wait” experience they talk about is nothing I’ve ever appreciated first hand.
The Golden Gate Bridge vs. The George Washington Bridge
Okay, I don’t have hard statistics to back this claim up, but the toll booth collectors at the Golden Gate Bridge run circles around their counterparts at the George Washington Bridge. Maybe they have performance goals and better attitudes, and maybe they just get the credit for what’s really a function of better designed roadways to keep the traffic flowing. The bottom line is that crossing the Golden Gate is comparatively quick and easy.
When I travel back from the Napa region, it is usually on a Sunday evening. On occasion there have been some extremely long backups, but it’s never taken me more than 20 minutes to make it through to the tollbooth. Once you get there, the collectors seem decidedly more polished and engaged, focused solely on accurately processing your transaction. A collector told me the working goal is to have cars pass through in ten seconds or less.
Back on the other coast, Sunday night backups on the George Washington Bridge can easily take more than an hour out of your life, especially in the summer. While part of the delay is no doubt due to the sheer volume of cars trying to squeak through, partial blame must lie with the distractions with which the tollbooth operators surround themselves. They chat on their cell phones, converse with each other by yelling across the lanes, and play loud, pulsating music while supposedly doing their jobs. While there are certainly other advantages to signing up for the E-ZPass automated toll payment system, there is none more persuasive than the promise of not having to deal one-on-one with human toll collectors who make you feel like you are an interruption to their fun.
I read somewhere that the expression a “New York minute” was coined by a guy from Texas who described it as “… a nanosecond, or that infinitesimal blink of time in New York after the traffic light turns green and before the ol’ boy behind you honks his horn.” I can only imagine what the definition would have been if he had taken the subway instead and based it on time standing in line at Duane Reade.
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