Jeffery Boyd The Priceline Group 800 Connecticut Avenue Norwalk, CT 06854
Dear Sir:
I am writing to you in your capacity as Executive Chairman of the Board of Priceline Group. I would like you to arrange a refund of $1,206.22.
On March 31, I arrived with my spouse at Dulles International Airport, outside Washington, DC, expecting to board a flight to Heathrow with tickets I purchased last August on Priceline.com (Priceline Trip Number: 203-791-090-42).
When we presented the airline the receipt emailed by Priceline, we were informed the tickets had been cancelled in September.
I phoned your customer service number and was informed by two different agents that the tickets had indeed been cancelled. They offered no explanation for why the tickets were cancelled (or by whom) and refused to refund the $1,206.22 I paid for the tickets.
My spouse and I purchased tickets with a different airline at the airport, so we could complete our trip, at a cost of six times the amount I paid Priceline.
The only previous communications I received from Priceline regarding the airline tickets were a purchase receipt and an itinerary, both emailed August 29, 2016. I'd be happy to supply copies of these, as well as the two customer service agents' ID numbers, should you need them.
I was brought up to believe a business that fails to render a service purchased in advance by a customer refunds the purchase amount, in full, and often with an apology. I trust you were brought up in comparable circumstances, and will refund my $1,206.22 immediately.
Part 2 of a 3-part series on business strategy. "Sensation must be the keynote of all advertising," Mercator told his readers in the November 1892 edition of Saddlery and Harness. In other words, go big or go home. Tiny, timid ads don't pay off. “A small everyday poster is not worth the cost of fixing," Mercator says. "Exactly the same may be said of advertisements in
newspapers. A small one amongst hundreds of other small ones is not seen at
all; only the large and showy ones draw any attention." But why gamble on outdoor and print, Mercator asks, when you can use direct mail? "The best and only sure and safe system of advertising is by
addressing circulars from a directory of the town to every inhabitant at all
likely to be a customer, and sending them through the post," he says. "Advertisements on walls, and in newspapers, periodicals, and
directories are what we may term promiscuous or indiscriminate. They are issued
in thousands with the lottery chance of reaching or being seen by the hundreds
or possibly only the tens; whereas the directly addressed missive goes like a
faithful messenger at once and without fail to the person intended, and every
message is seen if be not read, whilst the carriage of it by post does not cost
a tenth part of the amount wasted by the indiscriminate method." Sound too quaint? According to Demand Gen Report, "Traditional direct mail is still an important means of communication among B2B marketers, and industry experts are seeing signs of its resurgence as a lead gen tool. This is due to marketers seeing better response rates to mail pieces, and leveraging it with other channels and disciplines such as account-based marketing for a targeted and integrated approach."
As the plethora of podcasts on the topic proves, freelancers' and entrepreneurs' craving for business advice is insatiable. Those seekers of commercial know-how could do no better than Mercator's 10-part series, "Business: Reasons of Failure and Roads to Success." It's not a podcast, but a series of articles that ran in the British trade journal Saddlery and Harness between August 1892 and June 1893 (the author took December off). Who Mercator was remains a mystery; but that hardly makes his advice―tips on everything from advertising to time management―any less sound. On the subject we'd call "focus," Mercator's advice is as pointed as any you'd hear from Seth Godin or Gary Vaynerchuk:
"Amongst the answers given by businessmen to the question as to the chief causes of failure occur the following," Mercator says. "'Unwillingness to labor and wait,' 'lack of perseverance,' 'haste to get rich,' 'undue haste to accumulate,' 'drifting,' 'unwillingness to achieve success in the old-fashioned way,' 'waiting for opportunities,' 'unwillingness to work persistently,' 'lack of appreciation for the opportunities of life,' 'unsteadiness of purpose,' 'lack of persistent application,' 'unwillingness to begin at the foot of the ladder and work up.'" All these causes of failure, he says, amount to one thing: disdain for details. "It is a common thing for us to speak of our great men as genii, and to suppose that a genius is a man who from his birth inherited a superiority of brain which was bound to carry him to excellence, when he took up the line of life he was especially gifted for," Mercator says. "To a certain extent, and in certain cases this is undoubtedly true; but what definition did one of our greatest writers and scholars—Carlyle—give of genius? He said genius is nothing more or less than 'the capacity for taking infinite pains.' This, indeed, is the secret of the success of the most eminent men in all times. "Take Newton and all the most celebrated astronomers; take Stephenson, Brunel and all the famous engineers; take Watt, Edison, and all clever inventors; take Sir Robert Peel, Gladstone, and most of the principal politicians and prime ministers of England; take great poets, artists, warriors, and all the men who have risen to eminence in the world, and you will find that they have almost all been famous for their industry, their patience and their perseverance." Sound too quaint? In 1995, Steve Jobs told Computerworld, “I’m convinced that about half of what separates the successful entrepreneurs from the non-successful ones is pure perseverance.”
Surrounding the chancel of the church where Shakespeare lies buried in Stratford-upon-Avon are 26 intricately decorated choir stalls that date from the 15th century, as I discovered on a recent visit. Inside each is a misericord (from the Latin for "act of mercy"), a wooden ledge that allowed infirm priests to sit during masses and divine offices, without appearing to do so. If you wonder why the little butt-rests were considered merciful, you must recall priests had to stand throughout two masses and eight divine offices, which they were required to attend every day. Medieval people applied the word "misericord" not only to these little ledges, but to any kindness shown infirm priests, including gifts of meat during Lent and blankets during winter.
But mercy didn't stop with priests.
Seats for the infirm were also provided in churches to laymen. Church walls customarily featured built-in benches, where infirm parishioners could sit during mass.
It's from the custom we get the expression, "The weak must go to the wall."
"Victory is to the strong and the weak must go to the wall," Hitler once told a group of his officers, meaning, in our dog-eat-dog world, only the strong deserve to win.
Sadly, his sentiment is alive and well in Washington and many state capitals today.
Why pay for misericords, when our billionaire masters can have more?
Without passion, you don't have energy; without energy, you have nothing.
― Donald Trump
If I had a nickel for every time some guru said success stems from passion, I'd be living in Mar-a-Lago. Sure, passion's prerequisite―but far less so than money, talent, timing and luck. Passion alone, however, can lead to distinction. It won't lead to "great;" but it can lead to "worst." Consider the case of Ed Wood, the Hollywood hack who earned distinction as "worst director of all time." Passion alone―and he was passionate―couldn't carry him to greatness. The tides ran against him. "Ed Wood wasn’t the worst filmmaker of all time," says film critic Matt Singer, "but he might have been the unluckiest. "His life story is a series of missed opportunities and broken promises. He would prepare a film, and the financing would fall through. He’d plan a project for an actor, and the actor would die. He made what would become one of the most famous movies in history, then thoughtlessly sold the rights to it for a single dollar to pay his rent." "Passion is the genesis of genius," Tony Robbins says. But passion alone can bear bitter fruit. Unbacked by money, talent, timing and luck, passion is the font of failure.