The Affluent Page Magazine Avoids NYC Marshal

16Dec09

There has been yet another disappointing turn in my continuing frustration with The Affluent Page magazine, which is still ignoring a July 2009 New York City court ruling to pay me more than $4,500 for writing and editing work completed as long ago as August 2008.

Publisher Mario Jourdan, who told a New York City Marshal’s office on November 20 that he wanted to be put on a $1,000-per-week payment plan, is now avoiding the City Marshal, too. Not a nickel has been received.

I confirmed this detail with the Marshal’s office yesterday afternoon. Apparently, Jourdan and his colleagues at The Affluent Page magazine feel it is okay not only to ignore a year-and-a-half-old debt as well as a New York City judge, but now also the City Marshal trying to enforce the judge’s ruling.

Once again, I strongly urge any and all advertisers and contributors to steer clear of The Affluent Page magazine in general, and publisher Mario Jourdan in particular.

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We’re No. 500 Million!

15Dec09

According to the most recent stats I’ve seen, only half the videos uploaded to YouTube attain 500 viewers. The promo video for my new website, BoaterMouth, just passed that magic number.

With a billion viewers a day on YouTube, that means we’re at least No. 500 million. And the video has only been live since November 5.

Not bad in the ever-expanding world of social media!

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An Open Letter to Continental Airlines

14Dec09

Big confession here from the lady who gets paid to travel the world: I arrived at Newark Liberty International Airport last Sunday morning, en route to cover the Antigua charter yacht show, and realized I’d forgotten my passport.

First time in 10 years. Felt like an absolute idiot.

My first move was to call my husband, who had just dropped me off. Luckily, I had arrived two hours before my flight, but he would still have to race  home and back. Our house is 45 minutes from the airport, which means 90 minutes total driving time. That would put me 30 minutes before my international flight’s takeoff, by which time the Continental Airlines check-in counter would be closed.

My next move, then, was to talk with the Continental representative wearing a tie and appearing to be in charge. It turns out his name was Carlos, and he was quick to tell me that he could not help me until I had my passport in hand. I tried to explain (politely, with a smile and an acknowledgment of my own stupidity) that by the time I actually had my passport, it would be too late for him to help me. I needed to get things in motion sooner if I was going to thread the thinnest of timing needles.

Carlos again told me he could be of no help. I thanked him, still smiling (even though he was not smiling back), and asked him for the name of the supervisor on duty. He told me that he was the supervisor, then looked over my shoulder and asked the person behind me how he might help them.

So much for Carlos.

I next planted myself on the cold floor outside the check-in area and whipped out my cell phone and reporter’s notebook. I called Continental’s 800 number, punched in my frequent flyer number (which should have alerted them to the fact that I am a very good customer), and asked the woman on the other end of the line to help me figure out Plan B. She told me to go find the supervisor on duty, which gave me a chuckle. I told the Continental rep on the phone that I would happily take a flight later that afternoon, knowing full well that charges would apply. I had my credit card ready. She told me that the next scheduled Continental flight to Antigua was in six days, and that her database didn’t show any other options on other airlines that might help me today.

Deep breaths, I thought, still freezing my butt on the floor and watching Carlos help all the passengers except for me. I pulled out my laptop and searched American Airlines, which I knew from prior experience flew into San Juan, Puerto Rico, with connections to Antigua. I called the American Airlines customer service rep, who also was of no help.

Kayak.com proved my saving grace in locating a Newark-to-San Juan flight later that day on Jet Blue, and thank goodness I’d traveled to the Caribbean enough to know that the local airline Liat had hopper flights from San Juan to Antigua. My forgetfulness would cost me a solid $550 in new, one-way tickets, but at least I finally had Plan B so that I would make it to my work at the boat show on time.

My wonderful husband was flooring the accelerator in our Volvo at that moment, with about 40 minutes left before my original flight’s takeoff. At that point, I started to lurk in front of the check-in counter and make small talk with the guys wearing overalls and Continental nametags. I was doing my best to keep smiling, and they reciprocated with kindness and offers to do what they could to help me. One of them got on his radio and asked Carlos to come over.

At that point, Carlos, who was still not smiling, asked for my boarding pass (which I’d printed out at home the night before). He took it to the Continental counter without a word as to why. I stood waiting cluelessly, wondering if he was canceling my seat altogether.

A few minutes later, he returned with a checked-in tag for my bag and told me that the minute my husband arrived with my passport, I should find him.

I thanked the overalls crowd and Carlos alike, met my fantastically lead-footed husband outside a few minutes later, and ran with my bags in tow to find Carlos, who had moved to another part of the terminal. He asked a Continental employee to get my bag onto the carrier immediately and told me to run to security, which I did, before also running the entire length of the C concourse at full triathlon speed to get to my gate just as my row was being called.

In the end, both my bag and I made it to Antigua in time for the boat show, and I am thankful for the help that Carlos gave me in the end.

But at the same time, I find it incredibly frustrating to be a frequent flyer who has to chat up workmen in overalls to get a smile, a nod of sympathy, and an offer of help. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that a person who travels less than I do would have been far more flummoxed, and thus more likely to receive no help and have to forgo their trip entirely.

I realize that times are tight, flights are fewer, and everyone is emotionally stretched, including managers like Carlos. However, I managed to maintain my composure and smile during an incredibly stressful time. I also managed to find a solution that included a viable Plan B. Quite frankly, anyone who understands airline travel routes would have been easily able to do the same if only the time had been taken to try.

An airline as large as Continental, in the airport that serves as its hub, should be able to offer at least that level of composure, kindness, and assistance to its frequent flyers when a problem arises.

I didn’t realize until that day how low the customer service standards had dropped for Continental Airlines, which I always fly out of Newark because I assume I am paying for more than the flight itself. Big airlines like Continental talk about how we should all book through them because discount websites don’t offer any help if something goes wrong, but in my case, it was Kayak.com that was in fact best positioned and most available to save my skin.

My experience last Sunday was surprising, to say the least. I plan to keep it in mind the next time a competing, discount carrier offers the routes I need at a lower price.

Of this, Continental can be sure, I will not be forgetful.

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Meet Me in Antigua

05Dec09

Back on the road: Tomorrow, I fly to the Caribbean for the 48th annual charter yacht show on Antigua.

I’m especially excited this year because, on behalf of my website CharterWave, I’m hosting a three-day series of new media seminars to help yacht charter brokers understand everything from Twitter to blogs to electronic publishing.

If you miss the boat show but are interested in the information, please drop me a line or comment on this post. Several brokers who cannot attend have already asked if I might repeat the seminars via webinar, perhaps in January, and I’m still trying to gauge overall interest.

If you want to know what’s happening at the show, then keep an eye on the CharterWave Daily Editor’s Blog as well as the CharterWave Twitter feed. I’ll be posting as often as I can.

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The New Age of Kim

30Nov09

I finally have succumbed.

It’s been a long stretch of holding out in my personal little Luddite bunker. Yes, I build websites and am as digitally advanced in that respect as any other journalist, but I have seriously avoided hand-held gadgets for fear of altering increasingly large chunks of my day-to-day life.

The Blackberry has been my foremost enemy, for two reasons. First: I dread becoming one of those people who thinks it’s okay to stop talking and start typing while mid-conversation with a real, live human being. Second: I don’t want anyone to think they can reach me 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Having to call and actually talk to me seems to be a strong mental barrier against those who would bother me with the inanity and absurdity of many a text message.

Oddly, it is the ability to Tweet untethered that now brings me to the Blackberry universe. The opposite of inanity and absurdity, I admit, it is not. And yet I cannot quell the desire.

The Kindle, I thought was just plain stupid until I began to covet a fellow passenger’s 10-ounce beauty during an airline flight where I was toting about seven pounds of paperbacks. I’m now downright giddy about the idea of $9.99 bestsellers that a machine will read to me if my eyes get tired.

The iPod Shuffle, I actually deemed a detriment to personal safety. Way back in 1996, I suffered the nightmare scenario of a stranger sneaking up behind me and attacking me at random with a knife. Ever since, I’ve had the obsessive need to hear everything around me at all times. I guess it’s true that time heals all wounds; some 13 years later, as I jog five mile stretches to train for triathlons, I want to hear more than the sound of my own two feet. I’m finally ready to hear music, just like everybody else, and I feel the overwhelming desire to have it contained within a lightweight, absurdly small, and stylishly colored case.

So there it is. I finally have succumbed.

Welcome to the New Age of Kim.

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“Only a 5K”

19Nov09

I went out for a jog last night with the dog. Felt a little tired. Came home and told my husband, “We only made it 5K.”

Amazing, hearing those words coming out of my mouth. Only 5K. On a random, late-autumn Wednesday.

Getting involved in triathlons during the summer has really changed my entire sense of well-being. Sure, I was nearly dead last in the two races I completed, but I’ve gone from being winded after a half-mile of jogging to being able to stretch out, warm up, and run five miles without a whimper.

I’ve already committed to a five-mile race and three sprint triathlons for  summer 2010. I wonder what I’ll be able to say on a random Wednesday next November.

 

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