From the world of automotive discoveries, emergency flashers safely direct us to making the world a better place. Simply, do away with warranties — what some call entitlements!
Only in my wildest imaginations might I have guessed that the answer to making the world a better place would come from a Ford Service Advisor in a dealership far, far, away.
In her opinion (my daughter Lindsey), the problem with people is a warranty. As in an Entitlement.
She went on to explain, “Regular customers want their vehicle serviced, or need something fixed, and they are able and willing to pay for it. Warranty customers are demanding and are usually disappointed in something we say, or do.”
I’m glad it was a telephone conversation because I cringed. It was as if I had crested a hill and the sky was alive with emergency flashers, blinking wildly: this is important; pay attention. At least once a year, I struggle to keep my emotions in check. The last time involved an episode over a warranty.
Last year, I purchased a brand new, redesigned, Ford Lariat F-150, pick-’em-up truck. One of the first things I noticed was that it cornered like it was on rails. In making one of those corners, I reached across the padded center console to get a grip. What I felt was other than smooth.
As I got home, parked, and went over to the passenger side to take a look, I found a break in the leather upholstery. Just a flaw in the material, I thought. The local dealership took a look, listened and agreed with my interpretation of the situation. After receiving photos taken by the dealership, Ford Motor Company said, “No. Looks like abuse by the customer.”
Now, many times, after putting 80,000 miles on a rig, I have been teased by friends about that new showroom look. Strangers will hop in and make a comment, “Well, I can tell — no kids and no dogs!” (Been there, done that, another story for another day.) Never have I been accused of vehicle abuse.
Since I’ve been working hard for the last several years to build a better me, I was able to practice keeping my words gracious. I’m pretty sure my facial expressions, body language and tone of voice were all screaming like a toddler.
All because of a bad belief, that: I was entitled to special treatment.
Every day, we hear reference to Entitlement Programs designed by our Government to help us:
- Like Unemployment Benefits: really, is it a benefit? I thought having the skills to work and provide value to the marketplace, with a job or by contract, is a benefit.
- Like Social Security: really, is it security? I thought tapping into a passion for life and using our unique gifts for the benefit of others is always in vogue and style.
- Like Public Education: really, is it education? I thought preserving our individuality and creativity, to discover new and better ways, enlightens our choices.
- Like Health Care: really, is it care? I thought Customers only care about what Professionals know, after they know how much we care, by carefully listening.
Who, really, cares the most about you and your family? Yes — you do.
In the strictest sense of the word and as we break it down into its true meaning, the word “En-title-ment” simply means: to give a Title, raise in Rank, assign to a higher Position. For those into Pedestals, good luck with that. For the rest of us, please, with help like that — who needs it?!
Government can be explained in the words of Pogo, “I have seen the enemy and he is us.”
Each of the social programs was created with pure intent — to provide a bridge to opportunity. They can never be a way of life. Life does not come with a warranty and intelligence does not arise from legislation — to believe so is pure, unadulterated, stinkin’ thinkin’. In fact, to live so is to remain immature. In this case, though, no one is available to change the diaper.
Power of Thought
There’s a story about Henry Ford wanting a V-8 engine for his automobiles. He asked his engineers to make one. After several months, they returned to say it couldn’t be done. Henry explained why it was important for families to travel in safety, with the increased power of more horses under the hood.
Off the engineers went, to try, again. After many more months and with conviction, they reported that the task was impossible. Henry said firmly, “Boys, you don’t understand. You can either build me a V-8 engine, or I will find someone who can.”
They built Henry his V-8.
Whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right.
At the crossroads of life, when you come to the moment of decision, remember your choices: Stinkin’ Thinkin’ or Blinkin’ Thinkin’.
Please, choose wisely!