Cancelling Amazon Prime

I just don’t think it’s worth the cost — for me.

I joined Amazon Prime when it first started in 2005. Back then, it was $79/year and all it guaranteed was free 2-day shipping. I’m pretty sure that applied to all items on Amazon and that might be because back then when you bought from Amazon it was actually sold by Amazon and shipped by Amazon. (None of the “marketplace” crap there is today.)

Time went on. My subscription renewed annually. I lived in a little town in Arizona that had very little retail shopping other than groceries, hardware, and ranch supplies. Amazon helped me get good deals and quick delivery on the computer components, software, books, and other items I needed in my job as a freelance computer book author. I enjoyed the ability to order anything and have it shipped to me for free within two days.

Amazon added Prime video in 2011. It didn’t matter to me because I had super crappy Internet service at home and satellite TV so I didn’t need/want to stream video. Of course, that changed in 2013 when I moved to Washington State, got super fast Internet, and skipped the satellite or cable service. But I’m not big on watching TV so I really didn’t stream much on Amazon. I had Netflix. And a DVD player.

In 2014, the annual price for Prime membership increased to $99/year. They added Prime Pantry, Amazon Music, and Amazon Photos, none of which held any interest for me. Amazon Now was also added; it offered same-day shipping in metropolitan areas as far removed from my rural home as can be imagined. But Prime still seemed like a good deal for free shipping within 2 days.

Prime Day debuted in 2015. It basically conned Prime members into buying more crap they didn’t need — although I did get a smoking deal on a hybrid queen-sized mattress for my camper one year.

Prime Reading started in 2016, although I only discovered it last year. It offered a limited selection of books and magazines to read for free. I used this feature to read a few magazines I couldn’t get at the library.

When the Amazon Rewards Visa card came out in 2017, I got one. I earned points for my purchases and used those points to buy things on Amazon. No annual fee. I still have the card but I rarely use it; Chase (the bank that runs the card) has super shitty customer service so I now mostly use my Apple Card, which gives me “cash back” that I can spend anywhere. 2017’s Prime Wardrobe did not interest me in the least. And the special Prime benefits at Whole Foods were useless to me because there wasn’t a Whole Foods within 200 miles of my home.

When the Prime membership price went up to $119/year in 2018, I started wondering whether the free shipping — which was really the only feature I used regularly — was worth it. It’s around then that I started streaming video in an effort to get my money’s worth. But I didn’t stream much.

2020 and covid rolled around. All of a sudden, I wasn’t getting free 2-day shipping. I was lucky to get items I ordered within a week. It was the lockdown, of course, and I really couldn’t blame Amazon. It was temporary — or at least that’s what I thought.


Amazon will ship for free even if you aren’t a Prime member. Just buy at least $25 worth of eligible stuff.

Truth is, I haven’t gotten regular 2-day shipping on Prime items from Amazon since Covid lockdowns began. It’s been more than two years.

So this year, when Amazon announced that it was raising the price of prime membership to $149/year. I took a good, hard look at what I was getting for that. A lot of folks don’t realize it, but if you spend $25 or more on Prime eligible items, you get those items shipped for free even if you’re not a prime member. I just tested this by logging out and adding a $14.99 item to my shopping cart. See the screen grab here? Buy $10.01 more and it all ships free.

Then I started to explore my Prime membership settings. They offered this helpful graphic to show how much I used Prime features:


In 12 months, I had 80 free shipments — which I could have had without Prime membership — and watched just 14 movies or TV shows.

I concluded that Amazon Prime simply wasn’t worth $149/year to me. Frankly, it isn’t even worth $119. Maybe not even $99, unless I start watching a lot more television.

So with my membership up for renewal on March 12 at the new $149/year rate, I decided to cancel — or “pause,” which apparently removes features and stops billing but keeps my account on standby in case I want to fire it back up. Cancel is an option, too, and I suspect that I’ll use it if they start spamming me to come back.

It’s pretty obvious that Jeff Bezos — with his fancy new yacht — doesn’t need my money. And why should I spend my money on services I don’t need or use?

You can read more details about the history of Amazon Prime from 2005 to 2020 in this article.

My Old TV: Rejuvenated by Roku

I get a new Roku for my old TV and it’s like getting a new TV.

I’m not a big TV-watcher. I probably spend less than 10 hours a week in front of the tube, and a lot of that is watching late night TV hosts and educational content on YouTube. I don’t have cable or satellite TV and can’t bring in any over-the-air channels. I subscribe to Netflix and Disney Plus, have Amazon Prime video because I want free Amazon shipping, and recently added a one-year free subscription to Apple TV+ because it came with my new iPad.

I got my wasband’s circa 2008 45″ Samsung HDTV in our divorce. (It’s a funny story how I got it, but I blogged about that in passing elsewhere.) At the time — 2013 — it was still a decent TV and it had a surround sound system that worked great when I watched DVDs. I used the Roku stick that I got with it to connect to the Internet for my content. It was slow — like push a button on the remote and wait for Roku to react — but good enough.

I eventually sold the surround sound system on Craig’s List, bought a Blu-Ray player for the TV, and got a Samsung sound bar. (The TV had terrible sound without it.)

Time passed.

After seeing bigger, better TVs in the local Fred Meyer’s electronics department for two years, I finally broke down and bought one. Fred Meyer sells previous years TV models for dirt cheap; I bought a 65″ Samsung UHD smart TV for less than $500 when I combined the sale price and the “senior discount” I got for buying it on the first Tuesday of the month. I felt that I got a pretty good deal on something I would use less than 10 hours a week.

New TV
My new TV — which is at least two years old at this point — sits in the corner of the living room. I had to swap the coffee table for the TV table to get it to fit; the legs have quite a spread. The reflection is my red leather sofa — also an unexpected divorce acquisition — with the pillows and dog bed on it.

What to do with that old TV? Well, I wound up putting it in my bedroom, right across from the brown leather sofa that had (ironically) been in my old house’s TV room. I had to buy a table for it that matched the furniture. I attached the sound bar I’d bought for it to the new TV so it had crappy sound again, but that didn’t matter. By that time, the Roku was so agonizingly slow — especially compared with the new TV — that I lacked the patience to use it. I should add here that other than the little black and white TV I’d had in my first apartment after college (circa 1982), it was the first time I’d ever had a TV in the bedroom so I wasn’t accustomed to watching TV in bed anyway. But what else would I do with it?

Time passed. I rarely used the TV in the bedroom. The Roku stick made it unbearably slow.

I started talking to a neighbor about giving it to her. Literally giving it to her. She had a TV in her guest room that was on the fritz. Although my old Samsung was a lot bigger than what she wanted/needed, she said she’d take it. We just needed to wait for her husband’s cousin to get into town to help us carry it downstairs.

But I started thinking about other possibilities. It seemed to me that the thing that was slowing the TV down and making it an ordeal to use was the old Roku stick that was now 13 years old. Maybe a newer Roku would speed it up?

I asked on Twitter. Some folks said it wouldn’t be any better. Someone else suggested the Roku Streambar, which combined a sound bar with a Roku receiver. I looked it up. It happened to be on sale for $109 (from a normal price of $129) with free shipping and a 30-day money-back guarantee. I had nothing to lose. I’d give it a try and if it was still slow, I’d return it and get rid of the TV.

Roku Streambar
The Roku Streambar and its remote. It’s actually pretty small and doesn’t sound nearly as good as my Samsung sound bar on my new TV, but it’s good enough for me.

It arrived last week. I set it up Thursday night.

And I was (eventually) amazed.

After a few tries, the Roku connected to my 5G wifi network. (I’d tried connecting it to the two other networks first and it apparently didn’t like them, even though the signals were stronger.) I went through the setup process. It worked great — super fast, too — and even configured itself with the same channels I’d had set up on the old TV. At first, it didn’t play sound through the speaker and I couldn’t figure out why. I fiddled with the TV settings and cables and other stuff, and then restarted the Roku by mistake (I pulled out the wrong cable). When it started running again, the sound came through the Roku speaker. It worked just as it should.

The TV could be controlled by the small Roku remote — although I assume I’ll have to change the source with the TV remote if I ever want to watch a DVD. The remote even has a push to talk voice controller for switching channels and changing the volume.

And did I mention that it was fast?

I’m not exaggerating when I say that it was like getting a new TV.

TV w/Roku
My old TV in the bedroom. Yes, I do have to clean up those wires. The reflection in the TV is the window behind the sofa; you can see the top of my head, too.

Unfortunately for Terry, I’m going to keep the TV, at least for a while. I suggested she check out Fred Meyer. They’re still selling great TVs for great prices and she’ll likely get a better one than mine.

My Thoughts on YouTube’s Mid-Roll Ads

I think I respect my viewers a lot more than other creators respect theirs.

I’m officially what’s referred to as a YouTube Creator. That’s someone who regularly creates content for publication on YouTube, a platform that gets thousands, if not millions, of new videos a day. Much of that is junk but a lot is actually good, valuable content. And some is really high quality, useful/entertaining material. I like to think that my content falls into that middle category — better than junk but not as good as the really high quality stuff. I do what I can with the materials and skills I have. And unlike other Creators there, this isn’t my full-time job and I don’t have a bunch of corporate sponsors feeding me cash. I set priorities in my life and YouTube content creation isn’t at the top of that list.

And now for a shameless plug…

If you like helicopters and/or flying and want to watch videos about helicopters/flying without a lot of hype, I hope you’ll try my channel, FlyingMAir. Many of the videos put you in the cockpit with me as I fly around and talk about what I’m seeing and doing. If you like it, subscribe and tell your friends.

That said, I am fortunate enough to be allowed to monetize my channel. I have 63,000+ subscribers (as I type this), a number that has been climbing steadily for the past few years. I’m not sure if the requirement is 1,000 subscribers or 10,000 subscribers for monetization, but I’ve met it. That means that I get a teeny tiny cut of whatever YouTube gets for placing ads before, after, and possibly during my content.

How teeny? It’s currently hovering around $3 per 1,000 views. So yeah — when 1,000 people watch one of my videos, I currently get about $3. Not exactly a wealth building opportunity for me. Sunday’s video, which has been out for 48 hours as I’ve typed this, has earned me about $5. (Thanks, viewers!)

Of course, one of the reasons this number is so low is because I only allow three kinds of advertising on my content and I allow them in only two places. Yes! Creators can specify what kinds of ads appear and when they appear! There are five kinds and three locations and this image from one of my video’s settings pretty much explains them:

YouTube Ad Types and Locations
This is how I normally set options for my videos.

YouTube’s advice — which apparently lots of Creators heed — is to turn on all ad options. YouTube wants the opportunity to sell ads everywhere, even though it does not display ads on all videos. (It’s about 60% for mine and I only make money on my videos when ads are displayed on them.)

My school of thought is this: I need ads on my videos to monetize them. (Yes, I know I’ve got Memberships and Patreon set up for my channel but not everyone can or wants to chip in with real money. Honestly, without monetization, I would not be motivated to create content regularly.) But I don’t want ads to ruin the viewing experience. So where can I put them to be the least obnoxious? The answer is before and after the video using ads that don’t obstruct or interrupt the content. That’s the settings you see above.

Some of my older videos might have Overlay ads and Sponsored cards selected, so don’t be surprised if you see some of those for content published before mid 2019. I don’t think I have During video turned on for any videos. And that’s what this post is about: mid-roll ads that appear during the video.

I’m a big YouTube viewer. I don’t have regular TV in my home. No cable or satellite, no antenna to pick up local broadcasts. I have whatever my smart TV or laptop can pick up through a wicked fast fiber Internet connection: Netflix, Amazon Prime, YouTube, and a variety of other channels I subscribe to or get for free like PBS, Lynda.com, and the Great Courses. I use YouTube to learn new things — even things I don’t need to know — and get ideas. To keep my brain going.

And, as a YouTube viewer, there is one thing I absolutely cannot stand: mid-roll ads. You know what I’m talking about. The ads that appear suddenly and without notice, sometimes in the middle of an onscreen sentence, disrupting the video with something you absolutely do not care about.

Mid-roll ad announcement
This “card” appeared in my YouTube Studio dashboard about a month ago and is still there.

Until recently, mid-roll ads were only available on videos 10 minutes long or longer. But recently, YouTube announced to creators that the ads were now available to videos 8 minutes long or longer. And oh, by the way, this feature will be turned on by default for all your new videos unless you change it by a certain date. (I immediately changed it for my channel.)

I need to point out something important here. Creators who enable mid-roll ads have the ability to specify points where the ads may appear. So say a Creator has made a video that shows a 4-step process with cuts between each step. Logically, a good place to put a mid-roll ad would be at one of those cuts. This is less intrusive in the content. But what I’ve seen lately as the number of mid-roll ads grows on YouTube is that Creators aren’t bothering to set up ad locations. They’re just letting them appear wherever YouTube puts them. The ultimate in annoying for viewers.

To me, allowing mid-roll ads to interrupt your content in such an annoying way is the ultimate way to tell your viewers that you don’t give a damn about their viewing experience. The only thing that matters to you is the fractions of pennies of ad revenue you’ll get by allowing that ad to appear.

And I think there’s something seriously wrong with that attitude.

I’ll admit it here: I’ve begun leaving comments on videos with disruptive ads asking the Creator to turn off mid-roll ads. And I think you should, too.

Of course, there is a way to get rid of all ads on YouTube — and it doesn’t necessarily hurt Creators. You can sign up for YouTube Premium. My understanding is that for $11.99/month, in addition to adding features to YouTube, it also removes ads from content. If you watch enough YouTube, you might find it worthwhile. I don’t watch that much YouTube and I’d rather see my money go directly to a Creator via Membership or Patreon support.

The only thing I’m really left wondering about is this: because I have disabled some YouTube ad options — rather than turning them all on as YouTube recommends — am I triggering some sort of penalty that keeps my videos out of search results? Is there some under-the-hood activity in the bowels of YouTube that will punish me for not flooding my videos with ads by simply limiting the number of potential new viewers? That’s something I’ll likely never know.

2015 Resolutions

A very ambitious list.

I’ve been slipping — and it’s got to stop. So I’ve decided to set up and stick to some New Year’s Resolutions.

1. Fight the Social Media Addiction

I spend entirely too much time on social media sites like Facebook and Twitter. Actually, if you spend more than 30 minutes a day on social media — and aren’t being paid to do it as part of your job — you probably spend too much time, too.

Think about it. Yes, you enjoy it. It’s a nice, convenient social experience. But it’s also a timesuck. And the time you spend online looking at cat photos and clicking like buttons is time you could be spending doing other more rewarding things like engaging in personal interactions with family and real (not virtual) friends, working on projects that enrich your life (or bank account), and getting some fresh air and/or exercise. These are all things I want to spend my time doing. I don’t want to sit in front of the computer after breakfast, tune into Facebook, and look up two hours later to discover that half my morning is gone and nothing constructive has been done.

So I’m placing a limit on social networking:

Less FacebookFacebook:

  • No checking in between 8 AM and 8 PM. “Checking in” refers to logging on for the purpose of reading new updates on my newsfeed and checking and responding to comments on my or other people’s updates.
  • Maximum of 3 updates per day, including updates of photos or links but excluding updates automatically generated when I post to my blog. These can be done at any time.
  • No likes. (I actually began doing this a few months ago and I find it very rewarding, mostly because it prompts me to share more meaningful commentary when I like something.)

Twitter:

  • No checking in between 8 AM and 8 PM. “Checking in” refers to logging on for the purpose of reading new tweets, checking and responding to notifications on my account, and adding or removing followers.
  • Maximum of 12 tweets per day, including photos, links, tweets automatically generated when I post to my blog, and retweets but excluding scheduled tweets. These can be done at any time.

LinkedIn:

Stop using it. Period. This should be pretty easy since I only check in once every month or so and always leave with a bad taste in my mouth.

Google+:

Really? People still use this?

I know this sounds silly or even kind of extreme — almost like a mom setting parental controls for her kid — but I have identified a problem and I have decided to tackle it by setting limitations. Let’s see how I do.

2. Watch Less TV.

I think I watch an awful lot of TV, especially when you consider that I (1) don’t have cable or satellite TV, (2) only get 4 live channels, and (3) rely mostly on Netflix, Hulu+, and other Roku-available content for options. Again, I think this has to do with the long winter nights — I certainly didn’t watch much TV when the sun was setting after 8 PM.

What’s reasonable? I think 5 hours a week is reasonable. That’s less than an hour a day. That might seem a bit low, but when you consider that I’m out with friends a few evenings a week, it should be pretty easy to maintain.

Read a BookAnd there is this added cheat: a movie — no matter what length it is — counts as just an hour. But, at the same time, an “hour-long” TV episode watched without commercials, which is really only about 44 minutes long, would also count as an hour. I’ll need a scorecard to keep track. It should be interesting to see how I do.

What will I do instead? That’s easy: read.

3. Lose 15 Pounds

MeasureYes, I need to lose weight again. Doesn’t everyone?

Back in 2012, I lost 45 pounds and went from a size 14/16 to a size 6/8. Since then, my weight has crept up a bit, although I’m still able to (barely) fit into all of my new clothes. Time to nip that in the bud and go back to my goal weight. Remember, I burned the bridge to fat town back in 2012.

I’m not very worried about achieving this. I’m going to use the same diet I used in 2012 to lose 45 pounds in 4 months. I expect to get back to my goal weight within 2 months but will likely stay on the diet for an additional month for the added benefits it offers — mostly appetite reduction. That’s what made it possible to keep the weight off as long as I did.

In my defense, since the last 10 pounds came on very quickly — over the past two months — I suspect it has a lot to do with my reduced activity level. Winter means short, cold days here in the Wenatchee area. Unless I’m out doing something that keeps me busy and warm — like skiing or snowshoeing — I’m not likely to be outside. And there isn’t much exercise indoors — although climbing scaffolding can be pretty exhausting after a while. This is my best argument for going south for the winter and I may do it next year. (Yeah, I’m a snowbird for health reasons. That’s the ticket!)

Oh, and if you’re one of those people who think “big is beautiful” and that being thin is something that society forces upon us to make us feel bad about our bodies, wake up and smell the deep fried Oreo you’re about to shove in your pie hole. I never said I wanted to be thin. I’ve said (elsewhere in this blog) that I wanted to remain a healthy weight for the rest of my life. The added benefit is the ability to look good in clothes, have lots of energy, and feel better about myself. Don’t be an idiot. If you’re more than 10% over what’s a healthy weight for your height, you owe it to yourself and your family to shed those extra pounds. Trust me: you will be glad you did.

4. Write More

Writing PadOne of the things social media time has stolen from me is writing time. Instead of sitting down to write a blog post or an article for a magazine or even a chapter of a book, I spend that time on Facebook or Twitter or even (sometimes) LinkedIn. Or surfing the web. This are mostly unrewarding, unfulfilling activities. I get so much more satisfaction out of completing a blog post or article — especially when there’s a paycheck for the article.

I want to blog more often — at least four times a week. Blogging is something that makes me feel good. I wish I could explain it. I think it’s because I’m documenting the things I’m doing, thinking, and feeling. Creating an archive of these things.

I’ve been blogging for 11 years now and am very proud of that fact. I’m also thrilled that I can go back and read about the things that interested me so long ago. Why wouldn’t I want to do this?

I also want to explore new markets for paid article work. I have opportunities and when I can focus I can write and submit work I can be paid for. Why aren’t I doing more of this?

And I definitely need to complete a few work-in-progress books that I’ve started. And turn some of my blog posts into ebooks I can earn a few dollars on.

And I sure wouldn’t mind reopening some of the fiction work I began 20 or 30 years ago — work that was once so much a part of my life that I’d think about it in bed to help me drift off to sleep. Time to bring all that back into my life.

5. Just Say No to Starbucks

Say No to StarbucksWhy do I go in there? The coffee isn’t even that good!

I live in Washington, for Peet’s sake (pun intended), a place where there are coffee shops on nearly every corner and more drive-through coffee stands than gas stations. Why am I going into Starbucks, a place where saying “medium” instead of “grande” can earn you a snicker from the order taker?

Chocolate Covered Graham CrackersAnd don’t say it’s the dark chocolate covered graham crackers. Although it could be.

I guess I just don’t like the idea of supporting a global corporation with mediocre products when I could be supporting small, local coffee shops with slightly less mediocre products.

What I really should do is stop drinking coffee in the middle of the day.

This will be easy to do once I set my mind to it. I just have to not crave coffee when I walk into the Fred Meyer or Safeway supermarkets.

Scorecard

Because I’m so anal, I’ll keep a scorecard to see how I do. I’ll try to report back with success — or failure — at year’s end.

Wish me luck!

And why not share a few of your resolutions for 2015? Use the comments link or form for this post.

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.