By Jerry Bowen
Los Angeles, CA, USA

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Her voice was sweet and earnest and yet understandably distant. The conversation was not easy. Still, Jody did all she could to keep me from breaking things off. But in my mind it was time. The relationship wasn't working. I didn't feel the love. After all these years it was clear my needs were being taken for granted and I'd had it.

"Wait!"  Jody said, "We'll lower the two-month subscription price from $76 to $60 and we'll make things better. I promise. Give us another chance." 

I held firm. After 30 years of being a loyal customer I had decided to cancel my subscription to the Los Angeles Times.  

The Times had changed in so many ways from its glory days in the 80's and 90's when I first started reading it. The days when the Chandler family still owned it and spent money for foreign news and political coverage and investigative reporting by veteran correspondents who knew how to gather news and write it.

Then the bottom fell out starting in 2000 when the Tribune Company added the Times to its stable of newspapers, television stations and the Chicago Cubs. The pressure to cut costs and turn a profit really ramped up six years later when Chicago investor Sam Zell bought the whole enchilada for 12 billion dollars.

Zell used little of his own wealth and lots of employee retirement funds to finance the deal and quickly took the Tribune Company (and its L.A. newspaper) into bankruptcy. The skids were greased by the unforeseen Great Recession and the competition from free online news sources.

The L.A. Times went from 1200 employees to 500. Many of those veteran reporters and columnists were axed to save money. Circulation fell. More ads and fewer original news stories filled the pages. Even the size of the physical paper had been so reduced that it was easy to envision the day when there wouldn't be enough pages to line the proverbial birdcage.

But I won't be around to read all about it. And not for the reason you may think. I pulled the plug because the delivery guy made me do it.

Everything changed for me January 1st of this year. Until then, for many years, I'd been spoiled by Ernesto. Each morning he delivered the paper to my front door with a comforting thump. 5 a.m. Without fail. 

Each December when Ernesto would include a Christmas card and a self-addressed stamped envelope with the Sunday newspaper, I would respond in kind. I wrote a check and added a note thanking him for getting the paper to my door each morning. Thanked him for the good service.

Then New Years' morning, the thump was gone.

The paper was not at the front door or on the front porch. It was not visible in the driveway or on the lawn or the front walk. Finally I spotted it under my car. This required me to get down on my hands and knees and reach behind the rear wheel to get it. Ernesto was gone and I was about to begin a months-long effort to set things right. Many, many phone calls to Los Angeles Times customer service.

I talked to a number of earnest young women over those months and slowly, very slowly the performance of the new delivery person improved. The paper went from under the car to beside the car. And from beside the car to in front of the porch steps. Then a new problem developed. Our new delivery person didn't know how to stop delivering.

I travel frequently. Like most folks when I plan to be gone I suspend delivery of the paper. Request a vacation hold with the start and end dates. There's nothing like a pile of newspapers to signal "Empty house. Thieves welcome!" But our new delivery guy never quite figured it out. We would leave and the papers would keep coming. I would call customer service, navigate the phone tree and an earnest voice would promise me the problem would be taken care of.

We just returned from Boston and ten days with our new granddaughter and found ten days of the L.A. Times behind the driveway gate. A neighbor had been kind enough to toss them out of sight. That is when I made my last call and Jody answered.

She really was sweet and earnest. And she really was distant. 7,300 miles away in Manila. The new owners of the L.A. Times had outsourced customer service to a cheaper labor force. Jody worked from a script and hadn't a clue about Los Angeles. Never been but she'd like to visit. I assured her she'd enjoy her stay.

"Was there," I asked, "someone I could write to with my service complaint?" 

The answer wasn't on her script so she put me on hold.

"I have," she announced, "an email address you can write to."

"No, I'd like to write a letter. On paper. I just need a name and address."

"We don't do that," she replied.

I cancelled our subscription, but I can still get the L.A. Times online. Headlines and a surprising number of articles, but not the entire paper. Somewhere in that part of my brain where doubt, skepticism and paranoia converge, I think that's what the Times owners want anyway. Readers going online so they can get rid of the costly paper version of the newspaper. Just a thought.

As for the new delivery guy. He still doesn't get it. Two days after I talked to Jody and cancelled the paper, it is still coming. And now it is on the front porch just feet away from the door.

As for the Times?  I think they need Ernesto. In customer service.

 

All opinions expressed by Jerry Bowen are solely his own and do not reflect the opinions of Stay Thirsty Media, Inc.