One of my favorite oxymorons.
Well, my plan actually, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. In a previous blog about a very previous cellphone, I suggested that Verizon could provide much better voice quality. In an article I just read, it seems that Verizon is planning to provide much better voice quality in the manner I suggested.
Basking Ridge, New Jersey (CNN) -- Verizon Wireless is
readying a new cellular calling service that offers better
sound quality than its current network and is capable of
doing video chat. The new voice and video protocol will
route calls over the fourth-generation wireless data network
that Verizon started rolling out in December.
The internet-calling function is
tentatively named VoLTE, for Voice Over
LTE. (Long-Term Evolution is the name of
Verizon's 4G network technology.)
Calls between VoLTE-equipped smart phones will sound better, but ones made to phones using the legacy methods will sound the same as they do now.
Whether the VoLTE name will change or how extensively it will be marketed hasn't been decided, Higgins said. The "high-definition" audio fidelity will be a major selling point, he said.
I'll say. It may be the last short in the loading coils for landlines. Half the time I can barely understand cellphone speech. Wouldn't it be nice to have one that was useful for telephony in addition to photography, bar code scanning/price comparison, and music.
Presumably had nothing to do with installing insect larvae in their otherwise yummy chocolate. At least I'm inclined to believe that. If they wanted to play pranks on their customers, I can think of more effective ones. (Their truffles are of a size and shape similar to cherry bombs, for example.) Nonetheless, I was distressed to find that some of their especially yummy, and even more especially hard-to-find chocolates were so infested. I recounted the tale, gruesome photos and all.
Lindt & Sprüngli
is a Swiss company. Nonetheless,
they have a United States branch in New
Hampshire, and surely their employees
read the news. News in this
country often contains stories of
ridiculous law suits—congressmen
suing the congressional cafeteria for
broken teeth, women spilling hot coffee
in their laps, frogs found in swimming
pools. It's not too much of a
stretch, I should think, for them to
imagine that someone who ate
insect-infested chocolate might be
cranky enough to demand greater
satisfaction than simple replacement of
the chocolate in a moth-free condition.
And yet that inoffensive remedy
initially seemed to be beyond their
ability, or at least their policy.
This was their penultimate response:
Please accept my apology for your dissatisfaction with our offer of resolution for your damaged product. In accordance with our guidelines we are unable to offer product for compensation.
I ended up with a few gift certificates worth a fraction of the cost of the chocolate. Of course "ended up" isn't exactly correct. Did you know that even though the venerable Aktiengesellschaft Vereinigte Berner und Zürcher Chocoladefabriken Lindt & Sprüngli can trace its roots to 1845, there's still a Sprüngli on the board of directors? I didn't until recently. Oddly enough, after I discovered this and the names of the other board members, I sustained a telephone call from Meggan in New Hampshire, their quality control department and a gracious correspondent. It turns out that this "policy" of not replacing chocolate can sometimes, for the greater good, be modified. Several days after our discussion, I have living (or, much better, non-living proof) that the Biancotto and Giandujotti are available in the appropriate conformation.
Meggan sent a nice (handwritten!) note and indicated that the Biancotto is one of her personal favorites. Clearly a quality control department of refined taste and sensibility. I've tested a number of specimens of both to confirm that they are free of protoplasmic substances and appear salubrious. All is well again in the Land of Lindt, and despite the minor unpleasantness required to conclude this episode, I suspect them of no further pranks. Fortunately nobody makes cherry bombs shaped like Giandujotti.