I Hate DeCamp

Let Us "Help" You Ruin Your "Life"

Honestly, midway through the above, I had thoughts of suicide. But by the end, with DeCamp exhorting me in all caps and with no fewer than 11 exclamation points, I thought, why not throw caution to the wind? I'm going to clean out my bank account, take a bus to some god-awful Pennsylvania town, and lose it all in a slot machine! Then I can kill myself. 

We're Doomed

God help us all: DeCamp is dispensing health care advice.

Worthless

I don't usually take the 33 bus. I'm a 66 rider. But tonight I need to take the 33 to get someplace on Grove Street. So I went to decamp.com to check out the 33 routes.

Above, you see a map purporting to show the path of New York-to-West Caldwell 33 buses. Which is great if you're traveling by space capsule. Not so great if you're interested in taking a 33 Grove bus.

Where is Grove Street? Even when I zoom in on the map, I don't see it highlighted as part of any route.

This has to be one of the most brainless applications of Google Maps I've ever seen.

Can We Get Some Smoke Signals Up in Here? Two Tin Cans and a Piece of String?

I think we can all agree that communication is not DeCamp's strong suit. Company-customer, driver-customer, driver-driver -- DeCamp sucks at all of them. There's no reason why that should be, of course, other than this: as a company, they don't care enough to communicate well. That's it. It's not for lack of proper technology or the funds to invest. DeCamp could start communicating better, be more transparent, today, with zero investment beyond what they're already spending. If they wanted to.

This morning, my (late) bus made its way down Mt. Hebron toward Grove. As our driver slowed at Park Street, we could see the entrance to Grove was blocked off for tree trimming or road construction or PSE&G repairs or whatever. We paused for a bit, the driver pondering his next steps. Then we turned on Park, made our way sloooowly down that lovely avenue, and turned left on Haddon Place. Once on Grove, we headed back toward Mt. Hebron and, beyond, the Rte. 3 on-ramp...only to find it wasn't just the Mt. Hebron-Grove intersection blocked off. It was all of Grove Street beyond Mt. Hebron.

So we turned back up Mt. Hebron -- chugging, chugging, seemingly almost stalling at one point -- to Valley, where we made a right and eventually -- a half-hour from the time I was picked up -- joined Rte. 3.

Why was our driver clueless about the disruption on Grove? Why did DeCamp's dispatchers not know about it? (I'm assuming they didn't know, though perhaps I shouldn't make that assumption.) Why didn't another driver radio ahead -- to the office, to the other drivers -- to let everyone know what was going on?

Oh, and did I mention the bus was SRO:

"We're Adapting"

This morning, that was my driver's answer to my question: "Why wasn't there a bus by here for over an hour and a half?" I don't know what that means. Adapting to what? His new dosage?

After a relatively uneventful summer, DeCamp was back to its old form this morning: long delays, overcrowding, no explanations. I'm sure something happened somewhere to cause the backup, but lacking any information from DeCamp, I'm left to guess. Or to assume the worst.

Traffic is traffic, I know. There's not much you can do about that. But you can update people. Tell them what the fuck is going on every now and then. Try it sometime, People of DeCamp. I think you'll find the response to be appreciative.

And just a reminder: after announcing them in May of 2008, you have yet to provide functioning text alerts or an email newsletter. I know because I was one of the suckers who signed up for both.

News You Can't Use

Just in time for tonight's commute, I received the following text alert from DeCamp:

ALERT -- Tues. 12/30/08, "tubes" to be limited in Lincoln Tunnel 7:00 - 7:30 AM; EXPECT DELAYS!

Grossly outdated information, gratuitous quotation marks, and hysterical all-caps in one 100-character message -- a DeCampian trifecta!

DeCamp Email Newsletter: January 2009*

* Not really the DeCamp email newsletter.

Since spring 2008 DeCamp, via its website, has urged people to sign up for its “email newsletter.” Small problem: no such newsletter exists. So until one materializes, I Hate DeCamp will be your source for monthly tidings, tips, marginalia, and more from your favorite bus company.

Greetings, Riders!

Though “Old Man Winter” will be with us for a while still, it already has been an eventful season. In December we lowered your fares, even though we didn’t have to. It was our choice. Why did we do it? Aside from the fact that a gallon of gas now costs less than a 12 oz. can of Pepsi, that’s just the kind of people we are. (You’re welcome, by the way!)

Then there was the “unfortunate incident” on Walnut Street. We certainly don’t make a habit of crashing into people’s houses, but accidents do happen. Nobody’s perfect, and we don’t claim to be, so we’d appreciate it if you’d cut us some slack. We’re trying, and that’s all you can ask of anyone, isn’t it?

Meanwhile, change has come to America. Like many others, we here at DeCamp have been inspired by the optimism, energy, fresh perspective, and transparency of our new president and his team. It is in this hopeful spirit that we pledge to keep doing what we do best. In 2009 you can look forward to the same performance, service, and responsiveness you have come to expect from DeCamp—just more of it. Yes we can!

Ask DeCamp

Q) Dear DeCamp: The people who answer your phones always seem so courteous and well informed. Do they have to undergo special training? -- Sam in Clifton

A) Dear Sam: Great question! I can assure you that we don’t hire just any normal person to interface with our customers. Simply being average and “well adjusted” isn’t qualification enough for so important a job! In fact, many DeCamp employees undergo months of rehabilitation before they even walk through our doors.

Timely Tip

Did you know your seat cushion can also be used as a flotation device?

Recipe Corner

Gary Pard's Three-Alarm Chili

Ingredients:

1 chopped onion
3 finely chopped garlic cloves
2 tbsps chili powder
2 cans red or pinto beans
2 tsps dried oregano
2 tsps paprika
1 tsp fresh ground pepper
3 cups water
1 cup shredded cheese (Monterey Jack or cheddar)
2 tbsps fine cornmeal
2 cups chopped winter squash
2 cups corn kernels (fresh or frozen)
Coarse salt to taste

Directions:

1. Mix ingredients in a large pot over medium heat.
2. Do nothing for several hours. Maybe a day or two.
3. Serve! Or not. I don't really care what you do.

This Month in DeCamp History

In January 1898, Sgt. Cornelius “Corny” DeCamp made history by becoming the first casualty of the Spanish-American war, when he was shot by his own troops for desertion.

Progress

I am nothing if not a student of history. I believe the past has many things to teach us, and so, when I have a spare moment or two, I find it enjoyable -- and instructive -- to pay a visit to the DeCamp website to read up on the company's history.

It is full of colorful characters -- like soldier-turned-stagecoach-operator Maj. Jonathan DeCamp, blacksmith-turned-stagecoach-operator Benjamin "Cap" DeCamp, and dentist-turned-stagecoach-operator Ralph DeCamp (who devoted "much thoughtful consideration" to the agonizing question of whether to give up dentistry for the family business, which tells you something) -- as well as their bold deeds and even bolder mustaches.

Sometimes I have to shake my head in wonder when I read a passage that shows just how far we've come from those early days. For example:

Built along the lines of an open-air trolley car, the first DeCamp motorbus was large and awkward to maneuver. It also struggled to climb the arduous slopes of the First Mountain. At times passengers had to get out and walk and sometimes even help push the bus over the top the hill!

Just imagine! Now, of course, you wouldn't have to push.

DeCamp Does Something Good, Still Manages to Make You Hate Them

I was skeptical I'd ever see the day, but I have to give credit to DeCamp: with gas now consistently selling at under $2 a gallon, they are giving back, in the form of a fare reduction, some of the fuel surcharge they instituted back when $200-a-barrel oil seemed imminent. As a PR move, it's a smart thing to do. It's also the right thing to do.

The message from DeCamp should have been simple and direct, something like:

"Last summer we raised fares to help cover our rapidly rising fuel costs. Now that the cost of gas has swung the other way, we think it's only fair to give something back to our loyal riders. So starting Dec. 12, you will see a reduction in ticket prices. Amid these tough economic times, we will continue to look for opportunities to make your commute a little easier. We appreciate your business, and we thank you for your patience."

Instead, we get what you see in the above snapshot. It reads like something you'd write to an ex-boyfriend or -girlfriend -- after drinking a bottle of wine alone -- in an attempt to argue that you're really a great person and that breaking up with you was a huge mistake. Something you deeply regret when you wake up with a crushing hangover the next morning and realize what you've done. The logorrhea, the pleading, the defensiveness! Yuck.

A Tale of Two Commutes: Reality and Alternative Reality

This morning there were accidents on Route 3 and Route 280, leaving traffic snarled and the bus lane closed for a time. If you are a Clever Commute user, you not only knew about this, but you were also apprised of the situation throughout the morning as it worsened and, after a while, improved, and you even got tips on how to coach your driver through the mess (e.g., "Stay on 495 East and you'll be OK," as one person told the group). This was timely, extremely useful information that for many probably made the difference between a nightmarish commute and a smooth ride into work. (I took the train.)

As I was browsing these updates, I got three text alerts from DeCamp telling me... nothing. "Message has no content."

Perhaps there were no accidents after all. The traffic, the delays -- perhaps it was all a dream. I must have imagined the whole thing.

Thank you, DeCamp, for putting my mind at ease.