Expectations, Disappointments, and New Stuff That's Better than the Old

I had big plans for this next post, a grand salute to one of the greatest retailers in American history, the Sears Roebuck Corporation.

"What's that, pinko?" you ask, "You would say nice things about a multi-million-dollar corporation without insinuating that they feed babies to mutated puppies?"

Indeed, I would reply, but then they had to go and disappoint me, but I suppose it wasn't really their fault. Anyway, I bought me a new 'spensive toy, so I'm happy again. Allow me to elucidate:

My wife and I love us some old stuff, and I love me some tools, so we're always hitting the estate sales around here looking for deals. Just last weekend, we thought we hit the jackpot, too. There in the (I assume dead) guy's workshop was none other than an old behemoth Sears Craftsman Accra-Arm 10" radial arm saw. Quite possibly the Platonic Ideal of power tools, and something that would fill a very necessary gap in my garage, as I have no table saw or power miter saw. This bad boy would cover all that (with the exception of ripping long boards, which I've needed to do exactly once in this house).

We got a good deal on it, brought it home with the understanding that we could take it back if it did not in fact work. In my head I envisioned celebrating the purchase of this device with a blog post, as it's been a while since I gave y'all a Tool of the Week.

When I got home, I got the bright idea to take the saw off the arm before setting it up (much lighter that way), and that's when I realized that part of the saw had in fact deteriorated and broken off in a million little metal pieces. It was two plates in particular, responsible for holding in the ball bearings that allow the saw to slide back and forth along the arm. Should have looked closer in the shop, but lesson learned.

But my father told me that he believed you could still order parts for old Craftsman tools, and so I went to their website. Sure enough, they have a site for ordering parts, and amazingly, my saw came up when I punched in the model number. Not good enough for you? Well, they even had exploded diagrams of the whole thing so I could visually pick out the parts I need, and a simple ordering form so I could buy them.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is how a company should be run. Now I was definitely going to write them up, and for some contrast, I was specifically going to link this utterly fascinating comment about how Sears, one of the world's largest and most respected retailers, was perfectly positioned to completely own e-commerce, to be bigger than Amazon and Wal-Mart combined, and let it slip through their fingers for lack of vision. I'd probably wrap up this cautionary tale with some wistful damn thing about how she'd almost certainly die a slow death, or at least be forever relegated to the back seat of retail, but would nevertheless be the Great Grey Lady of Commerce or some damn thing.

Then I hit the "order" button.

Whoops, sorry, we don't have these parts anymore.

Rarely in my life have I been so crestfallen over not being able to buy something. It had started as a neat vintage they-don't-make-them-like-they-used-to power tool, then morphed into the anticipated satisfaction of a personal fixer-upper, and was supposed to end with my joyful participation in one of the oldest and most celebrated customer service departments in US history. Suck it, Best Buy.

Alas, it wasn't to be. Now I'm left with a saw what don't cut nothin', but still hopeful of finding a web forum somewhere that will turn up a parts site. I'm trying to be realistic, but I just want to get that sweet thing out there running. Hell, I completely reorganized my garage just to give it a place of prominence by the door.

But don't worry about me, for I have drowned my sorrows by becoming Apple's bitch. It was with no small sense of shame that I did so, but just two days ago and in direct rebellion against a strong, visceral aversion, I actually purchased an iPod Nano. Why did I do this? Well, I have a reason, but it's all about cross-promotion.

In short, my old mp3 player broke after an unfortunate encounter with my bathroom floor. We needed a new one, then, and Jennifer and I set a price limit, one that would get me nowhere near the cost of an 8GB Nano. However, it called to me with the intoxicating song of Nike + iPod, just about the most brilliant idea Apple's had since they invented the iPod — and yes, I'm aware of that overhyped phone they made. So I coughed up the difference out of my own pocket.

You get a kit that has a wireless pedometer that connects to your iPod and sends it data while you run: distance, speed, time. While you run, you periodically hear from a very nice woman who lives in your headphones and tells you how far you've gone. Then every time you sync your iPod with your computer, it uploads the data to iTunes and Nike's nikeplus site, where you can track your data and get involved with other runners. You can set personal goals or even create or accept running challenges (I just today started a distance challenge with the folks over at MetaFilter). You can map out and save running courses there using their own Google Maps-based web app.

It's a huge motivator, has lots of neat whistles and bells, plugs you into a worldwide community of runners, and I'm excited as hell about it. Their site could stand to be a lot more community-focused than it is just by giving users the ability to "friend" other members and communicate with them as you can on sites like Flickr and Netflix, but hopefully they'll get there soon. Regardless, it's still one hell of a lot of fun and has given me renewed enthusiasm about running.

When you're done reading this, go back to the front page and look over to my sidebar. You'll see new widgets that have my personal stats and the rankings for the MetaFilter challenge. See where it says two miles there? It LIES. I decided to spend the first two miles of my four-mile run today calibrating the thing, but of course it doesn't count that mileage, so it looks like I was a big sissy today and couldn't gut out more than a deuce. Try not to think less of me. [EDIT: This was written after my first run Thursday, and I've since racked up some mileage. Did eight more today (Saturday), and with just those two runs, starting nearly halfway through this month's challenge, I've jumped to number six in the standings. I rule.]

Thinking about this new toy fitness aid in the context of my probably failed power tool purchase made me reflect that while few if any stores today can match Sears' level of customer service in its heyday, data and web application technology have come so far that businesses can at least give their customers a hell of a lot more ancillary benefits than a web-less world ever could. Pay the base price for an iPod, get a really nice way to listen to music. Slap down another 30 bucks, and you'll not only get your workouts tracked for you, but you'll be able to run against the world.

Take me, for instance. I'm in a running challenge against people on at least three continents. Whatever that is, it's not nothing. It is, in fact, something that makes me feel curiously hopeful for the future.

Even if the goddamn saw never works right.