Why not a ‘truth in guarantees’ law?

I’m sorry that I couldn’t get all that excited about the “Truth in Lending” law which went into effect a couple of months back.

Somehow, I got the idea that the purpose of the law was to lower the going interest rates. Not just to let you know WHAT you’re paying. I’m getting a little tired of having it hammered at me every month that we’re being charged a whopping 18 percent annual interest rate.

Nor can I get too enthusiastic about the companion “Truth in Packaging” law, which has cut down the number of peanut butter jar sizes to a “mere” eight. If the government wanted to protect the consumer, it could pass a law stating that the “price per ounce” be listed on the outside of the package for comparison-shopping.

As long as the government is pursuing the “truth” line, I wish they’d enact a “Truth in Guarantees” law, which would compel a manufacturer to state clearly what the guarantee is worth. I mean, if we buy an oven with a guarantee I don’t want to be told later that the company will repair it if we bring it into the shop — in Passaic, New Jersey.

What’s more, the word “guarantee” is never what the dictionary says: “A pledge that something will be replaced if it does not meet the specifications.”

I must be dumb, because when the tread on a tire we had bought with a “30-Month Guarantee” looked like the top of Yul Brynner’s head and went flat as well, I thought we were entitled to a new tire.

My husband tried to tell me otherwise, but I was fresh from the triumph of having our new dishwasher repaired with no charge by waiting until the repairman was through before I produced the guarantee for parts AND labor. This way I figured he’d do a more thorough job.

The man at the tire store was as nice as pie when I showed him the tire along with the guarantee. I had decided to forgo pulling any funny stuff by showing him the fancy-lettered, gilt-edge guarantee AFTER the tire was on and then driving off in a cloud of dust.

“No doubt about it,” he said, “This is our tire and you’re entitled to a new one.” He was just as nice when I returned later to pick up the car when he handed me a statement which showed that with sales tax and installation cost it came to the original price of the tire.

“But, but the guarantee,” I blurted. I was shown the inevitable “fine print,” which meant that the company would allow $5 off on a new tire you purchased from them.

“Lady,” he called to me on my way out, “you’re entitled to a new guarantee on the tire you just bought.”

I drove off in a cloud of dust.

This column originally appeared in The San Francisco Chronicle on Oct. 16, 1969.

The man at the tire store was as nice as pie when I showed him the tire along with the guarantee.