Deficiency Free…if you like that kind of thing

Not all marketing plans should make it beyond the planning stage.

awesome-real-estate-sign-1024x768
photo courtesy therealdeal.com

Case in point: A nearby convalescent and rehabilitation center promoting its recently achieved high marks from the state agency on inspecting-nursing-homes-care-centers-and-such had a sign placed on its front lawn.

In bold capital letters the sign reads:

DEFICIENCY FREE

followed by other verbiage along these lines:

according to the inspectors who found nothing wrong

Happy Acres Rehabilitation<— not its real name

Kudos indeed. While the grade bodes well, how many drivers pass the sign each day only to glance at the first word in between their texting?

Stick Chick found herself pondering the sign rapid-fire in stream of consciousness style;

Deficiency free

No deficiencies

Oh, that means they did well

What are the possible deficiencies?

Are we talking dust bunnies under the beds?

Staff uniforms wrinkled?

Jello that doesn’t jiggle?

Or more insidious issues of patient neglect, medication delivery errors or records falsification? The whole process caused more negative than positive reflection even though Stick Chick is more the glass half full sort of chick. What would her more cynical friends think?

Granted, the term “deficiency free” reflects the actual wording used by the grading agency to record whether an institution is up to snuff or in need of redress of its sub par practices. However, it’s doubtful that the general public knows this or thinks in those terms.

A brochure or detailed online account of how the grading agency scores and how the center meets or exceeds the governmental regulations would have been a better use of the rehab center’s promotional dollars. From a marketing standpoint, five better choices for a lawn sign stand out.

  1. Top Rated
  2. Perfect Score
  3. High Marks
  4. Best in Class
  5. We Rock more than Chairs

Okay, the last one’s a stretch, but you get the point.

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Baby It’s Cold Outside

Yesterday was the first blustery day of the season, with winds that howled in 40-50 mile per hour gusts. Sadly, I had to venture out to the local drug store where I saw this sign, which I think is wrong.

I’m fairly certain my eyeballs would have frozen solidly, unable to move inside my cranium and my tongue would have adhered itself to my lips. Plus, I’m reasonably sure that the fluorescent bulbs inside the sign would have exploded and crumbled rendering Rite-Aid’s sign dark. Maybe it’s just me.

Rite Aid

Somebody please call and ask whether they sell thermometers.

The Candy Corn Dilemma

IMG_5678 Witches at Cauldron

Happy Halloween, and by that I mean, enjoy your day and call your dentist for an appointment now. They’ll be backed up in a month or so and you’ll have a hard time getting in.

Also, The Right way to eat Candy Corn poll results are in.

A whopping 85+ percent of respondents (people actually took a candy corn poll!) say that the RIGHT way to consume this seasonal treat is to eat each piece, one color per bite. It’s important to point out that regardless of color, there is no difference in flavor in your typical piece of candy corn. Had I given the poll more intense forethought, I might have also asked respondents whether or not they have obsessive-compulsive tendencies as a higher rate of that might have skewed the vote.

The remaining 14+ percent of poll takers claim the proper way to consume them are whole, one at a time.

Accordingly, if you eat them by the handful, you’re doing it wrong!

Wearing Socks in Heaven

Reading “My Boobs Are Full of Surprises by Outmanned Mom reminded Stick Chick about her theory on missing socks.

Socks have a tendency to disappear one at a time rather than conveniently by the pair. Most get lost in the laundry. Two in, only one out.  Sometimes they hide in the corner of a fitted sheet,  reappearing the next time the beds are freshly made. Failure to use dryer sheets may leave a single sock clinging to the inside of a shirt sleeve or pants leg. Usually they disappear forever.

Once upon a laundry basket, in an effort to save money, Stick Chick bought a used washing machine for $250. Shortly thereafter, it seized mid-cycle with a full tub of water and dirty laundry which indicated a blockage in the drain line. Finding nothing obvious she summoned Repair Man who, at a cost of $200, determined the culprit: a toddler’s nylon dress sock.

Like a pronouncement from the great and powerful Oz, he said, “Nylon floats.”

Rather than becoming soaking wet when laundered as one might reasonably expect, nylon resists water. Thus it floated over the top of the basket, caught in the drain pipe and blocked the exiting water during the spin cycle.

“Just hand wash them,” was his advice, which as any young working mother will attest, she had plenty of time to do.

Stick Chick made mental notes:

“Check sock labels for 100% cotton.”

“Place all socks in lingerie laundry bag to avoid future repair calls.”

It occurred to her that the multitude of missing single socks probably suffered a similar fate but had managed to make their way through the drain without blocking it, solidifying their place in an alternate universe.

Three weeks later, the washing machine seized mid-cycle with a full tub of water and dirty laundry. Better prepared this time, she emptied the washer using a pitcher, bucket, mop, and laundry basket to save on labor fees knowing she would need to call Repair Man again. She hand-wrung each item, cursing her decision to save energy by washing in cold water, and lugged buckets of water outside.

Repair Man found the culprit: sock number two (which had evidently attached itself to another piece of clothing.) Stick Chick had no idea that it was even in the load. This one ruined the motor. What she had saved in labor fees, she spent in parts totaling $200. Another $50 and she could have purchased a new washer and possibly never had the problem.

Stick Chick sock angel

Laundering is hell.

And hell, we all know is hot.

Logically then, those single socks must go to One Sock Heaven where just beyond the pearly gates, angel toes stay toasty with mismatched socks.