You don’t have time to write a complaint letter, but you remember reading in Rosalie Maggio’s How to Say It that a letter is more effective than a phone call because when you write you "put something tangible on someone’s desk – eventually it must be dealt with."

So you sit down to write.

You want to unload, to get even, to blast away. You want to find just the right words to singe the eyebrows off the Neanderthals who think they can treat you this way. And you know how satisfying it will be to vent your wrath not only for this particular injustice, but for all the times the world has treated you with something less than the respect you deserve.

So you write the following:

"Once again I entrusted you with my luggage, and once again you let me down. Although it may come as a surprise to you, business travelers prefer to arrive with – rather than without – their luggage. It’s a pretty basic concept."

Oh, it’s a good effort. You’re so pleased with yourself that you send your message while it’s hot. No need for second thoughts. If it’s going by e-mail rather than paper mail, you don’t even pause to address an envelope. Off it goes, and you feel so fine.

Until the next day. When you reread your masterpiece of wit and sarcasm, you realize that what sounded brilliant as you wrote it now sounds petty and vindictive. What’s more, your acerbic tone seems more likely to decrease, rather than increase, your chances of restitution.

Here’s what you should have done:

Oberholtzer, or "Ober" as he is known to his friends in the conservationist community, was more than an eloquent writer and book collector. He also was the leader of a determined effort to preserve what has become our nation’s most popular wilderness, the 1.1 million-acre Boundary Waters Canoe Area that runs along the border of Minnesota and Canada.

Ober’s letter was written to settle a dispute regarding an unpaid invoice. It came to my attention a few weeks ago while I was helping facilitate a writers’ retreat at his Rainy Lake island home.

Unlike so many complaint letters, which are barely coherent rants, Ober’s is a classic example of an accomplished writer using precise command of language to deliver a message with devastating innuendo. Here’s his opening:

"I am in receipt of an entirely unwarranted form notice from your Credit Department. From the number of forwardings on it, it has evidently been sent to every address in the country except the right one.

"I am not in the slightest disturbed by any threats of credit complaints, since my credit has never been questioned by any reputable house.

"It is quite evident to me, and has been since I made the mistake of opening an account with you last winter, that there is no coordination whatever between the various branches of your business or even between two separate orders to the same customer. One might just as well be dealing with entirely different houses ignorant of the business that each is receiving."

Sound familiar? It seems that not much has changed in 72 years.

"This is by no means a fault of mine. You have been kept fully informed at all times of my address and any temporary changes but have at all times ignored my instructions and written as if you had never heard from me. Neither have you at any time rendered account of payments made.

"You will now find my check for $12.70, which you claim as due. I will ask you in return, as one courtesy, to render me a full account of all transactions, cash or on credit, had by me with your house since last January 1, showing what was paid and when and how you arrive at your computation of debt. It is quite evident to me that, unless your credit transactions are placed on a much more business-like basis, you will hopelessly prejudice your business."

I laughed as I read the last part. To tell your adversary in such polite words that you hope he will survive his own ineptitude was the coup de grace.