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After three years, I'd almost accepted the idea of having a "GE Electric EZ Light" tree. It was scentless, sure, but it did send a perfectly symmetrical glow to the street beneath our A-framed hilltop house. And how nice that the $50-a-year-plus expense of a real 12-footer had stopped.
Then the inevitable — yet somehow unimaginable — happened: The hundreds of bulbs in the top three sections of my meticulously assembled, four-section EZ Light failed to work.
As Bing warbled soulfully in the background about his Christmas dreaming, and my wife patiently continued lining up the ornaments for placement once I fixed the thing, I checked and rechecked connections. No luck. With a sense of foreboding I turned to the instruction sheet's "Trouble Shooting Tips." The check for loose bulbs? Nothing obvious there. "Also, check the fused plug for a missing or burned out (open) fuse."
Yikes. Indeed, a sliding compartment in each plug did reveal two tiny glass-and-metal fuses, seemingly locked beyond reach. It didn't look good. My Christmas spirits quickly deteriorated.
"I'll Be Home for Christmas," Bing continued. Yeah, I thought, with a three-quarters-dark EZ Light monstrosity dominating the living room, telling all the world below of my lack of electrical skills.
Next step: the customer service center's 800 number. Deep breath. Where around the broad globe will GE take me for this exercise?
As it turns out, it is not Mumbai. It is the winter wonderland of Manitowoc, Wisconsin, where a Christmas angel named Margo (last names aren't given out) provided a holiday experience worthy of Ebenezer's famous "morning after."
Having found the problem plug, and a tiny screwdriver in my dad's old tool box, I'm treated to Margo gently talking me through the fuse replacement. She agrees that it is, in fact, harder to do than it should be. (Mandy, another call-center angel, contributes that she actually had suggested the inclusion of a special tool in the tree box; it was never done.)
After profuse thanks, I do a little research. GE markets EZ Lights through a license with Northfield, Ill.-based Santa's Best Craft. Its senior VP, Dennis Krize, fills me in on Santa's Best, formed by a 1990 merger of a Civil War-era company called National Tinsel and Manitowoc's National Decorations. The Taiwan-manufactured trees began being branded as GE in 2001. And the private firm's revenues are in the "hundreds of millions" — contributing to GE as part of its line of seasonal lighting products. (GE's Lighting division, combined in 2002 with the Appliance division, was set to be sold off until CEO Jeff Immelt announced last week that this wouldn't happen for a while.)
The Santa's Best call center has about 50 people, "if somebody hasn't quit because of all the stress of the holidays," Krize tells me. And employees there confirm that many non-troubleshooting calls are complaints — although workers also spend a lot of time just "keeping company with somebody who wants to talk at Christmas."
But they get at least one call of thanks. For my tree is fully lit again.
And some blessings. God bless you, Margo, for your patience. And Mandy, may your campaign for that little screwdriver take wing. (Come on, Jeffrey!)
Joyce Kilmer might be right that only God can make a tree. But Santa's Best runs a better call center.
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