So, if there's any confusion, let me just say that before there was the term "Pack and Play" (great grandchild of the wooden playpen), we in the kid care biz called those little things Portacribs. So, if you were wondering what the heck I was on about earlier, I'm hoping that explanation clears things up.
Speaking of clearing things up, I am happy to report that my contact with Evenflo was successful (once they finally got back to their desks!) and a nice gal named Trish walked me through the new technology of the spring-bottom construction. We got the horrid thing down, at last, and proved that it is broken in some way. As for replacing it, it wasn't covered by warranty, however, she is going to send me a new one and then I have to send "Proofs of Destruction" back to the company. I'm hoping it doesn't involve a hacksaw and little metal bits and that we don't maim a UPS delivery person in the process.
I now know what it feels like to be an old person who can't program the dvd player or make it work. I now understand why seniors never unwrap those "time saving" devices their grandchildren give them: digital clocks that play an ipod full of Glen Miller songs; a palm pilot to remind them when their prescriptions need to be renewed, keeping them abreast of Doctor's Appts and the latest Woody Hite Swing Band appearance at the Senior Expo.(In my imagination, all old people listen to Harry James and Duke Ellington while playing bridge and sipping an Old Fashioned. Oh, wait, that's ME as an oldster!) Boys and girls, your great grandparents want stationary and stamps, not your email address.
What a world. I'm not even 40 and baffled by the new technologies. Overcome by a playpen. Good grief!