Baz Luhrmann was right

Well, for the most part he was right. I was driving today and this song came on from 1999. I probably haven't heard it since 1999 either. But it stopped me and made me think. Here is the video, if you want to see it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQlJ3vOp6nI  So let me jump to the things that stuck out at me.

1. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. How truth this is. Isn't it like youth is wasted on the young. I remember making a comment to my dad about old dudes driving convertibles. Of course, at the time, he was 51 and had 2 convertibles. I had impeccable timing. Anyway, he told me that when we are young and want a convertible, at least a good one, none of this Cabriolet crap or whatever nonsense they are making, we can't afford them. By the time we can afford them, we can't really appreciate driving them. I am glad my wife let me buy one when I was still in my 30s.

We don't really appreciate the power and beauty of our youth. We don't have the experience to appreciate it. And when some old fart like me tells some 16 year old to enjoy it, they look at me like I am crazy. Hell, my own kids look at me like I am crazy when I tell them to slow down and enjoy being a kid. I don't have a solution. I do, however, recognize the problem. Kids, really, you only get to be young once. And as much as I can still act like a kid, I can never BE a kid again. I have all of the problems and responsibilities of being an adult. And it isn't that much fun. Trust me.

2. Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. I don't think I can change my future. I think it just is what it is, to borrow a stupid, overused expression. My future is going to happen. There will be more good than bad. There will be more happy than sad. I don't have the ability to avoid that. Bad happens. Sad happens. You want proof? Go back and read the prior posts here. I don't think worrying makes it any better.

You know what does help? Preparation. Usually, the bad crap doesn't happen out of the blue. We have some preparation for it. When you can prepare, you realize its not quite as bad as you think it is going to be - at least, that usually is true. Take a deep breath and realize that you can overcome the bad. Someone once told me that God never gives you more than you can handle. I am not sure that is totally accurate, but I think humans have a capacity for absorbing more bad than we realize. We find a way to handle it, grow from it, and move on. You have to. The alternative just isn't worth the pain it causes. I know that too.

3. Do one thing everyday that scares you. Okay, so everyday may be overkill. But do one thing everyday that pushes your comfort zone. Take on a challenge that you didn't think you could do. When I play my soccer games, I like the challenge of defending the best guy on the field, the best guy on the other team, the bigger guy. Am I going to succeed? Probably not. I am at least a decade older than those guys, shorter, slower. I get it. But I am going to push it. I may grab a shirt now and then. I may get the shoulder into them. But I am going to do it.

My buddy Mike Fitzpatrick reminded me once of the Untied Way. It was really outside of my comfort zone. Get some money and give it to the homeless folks you run into, whether they are going to buy a cup of coffee with it or snort coke. Its not up to you. I do it every year now. It has made an impression, not just on my kids, who go with me, but on me as well.

4. Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours. You know what the greatest gift you can give is? Its not money. Its not a toy. Its your heart. Its your love. You can't give it to everyone. You don't want to give it to everyone. You find someone special and give it to that person. (Or persons, since there are parents, kids, siblings, weird plural marriages that I still don't understand.) No one can make you give it to them. No one can take it from you.

But if you give it and someone is reckless with it, screw them. Because with the great gift, there is great potential for hurt. That hurt is unlike anything else. Be careful with it. Be safe with it. And do not let anyone tell you it is anything less than the most amazing gift people can give.

5. Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how. So true, so simple, so hard to do. Look, I run my mouth more than anyone else I know. I talk smack like its breathing. But, 95% of it is in good fun. 5% of it is because I am pissed. You know the difference. I know insults hurt. Its why that 5% exists.

I have had a young associate tell me that I wasn't smart enough to work at his law firm. Talk about an insult. I have also had other attorneys hire me to do things they could do for themselves. Talk about a compliment. The compliments mean so much. Most insults, especially the idiotic ones, come from someone else's rage. I admit it - sometimes mine do. I know. The ones where I mean to hurt you come from a different place. But those are infrequent. We need to remember the good that people see in us and take those compliments as a source of pride.

6. Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.  This is my dad personafied. (I may not have spelled that right, but screw it. Its my blog.) He always wanted to be a pharmacist. So he got a degree in pharmacy. Then he got a master's degree in pharmacy. Then he realized he hated being a pharmacist so he went back to school to get his PhD in pharmaceutical chemistry. And the world is a better place because he didn't know what he wanted to do with his life at 22. The world is a better place because he wasn't sure what he wanted to do even after getting his PhD.

I dont know if I have ever told this story before. But here goes. I was 14 years old and an underachieving freshman in high school. My guidance counselor told my parents to take me to a psychologist. So I met with a psychologist. At the end of the meeting, she called my parents in. She announced her rocket scientist like findings: I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I was 14 years old. Of course I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. My dad stood up, told her that she was a nut job, and we left. I never went back again. I still underachieved in high school (although I did better after I started dating my wife) and I underachieved in college. I finally started doing well when I was 22 and figured out what I wanted to do with my life. There is absolutely no need to worry about what you want to do with your life. You will figure it out. I am sure of it.

7. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.  Be happy with your body, whether you are 5'2 and 100lbs or 5'2 and 200lbs or 6'5 and 100lbs. It doesn't matter what other people think if you are happy with your body. They don't have to live in it. You do.

And use it. Try new things. I never thought of doing martial arts until my son started. Then I busted my butt at it until I got good at it. It was new. But don't give up the old things. I still play soccer every week (or almost every week). 34 years now. Sheesh, pushing 35 years. That's a long time. But it is what I do. I am a soccer player, still, after all of these years.

I am going to retire my shoes from last week, however. I wore them on the day my wife's grandmother passed away. 3 goals that week. I wore them a week later, after we had to bury her. 3 goals that week. Done. When a wrestler retires he leaves his shoes in the middle of the ring. I am leaving these shoes in the garage never to be worn again. Its a tribute to grandma, who never saw me play, but who deserves a tribute and its the most fitting tribute I can come up with.

8, 9 and 10: Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future. Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.  This is a 3-fer. I would call it a 3-peat but then I would have to pay Pat Riley a couple of bucks and its simply not worth it. (Honest, Pat Riley has a copyright on the expression 3-peat. Such nonsense.)

Goodness, how I wish I had followed the first part of this more closely. Get to know your parents. You know, I can't complete my family tree because I don't know enough about my family. There are gaps that are missing. I never have the chance to fill those in. I know my dad was writing a book about his life. I also know that book was never finished and is gone. His thoughts, his notes, his ideas. Gone. I don't get that back. Your parents, the people who raised you, may be the most important people in your life, at least for the first 18 or 20 years and possibly longer. My dad was the most important male role model in my life. He was my hero. Its been almost 10 years of not having that person in my life.

Siblings, however, are another story. My sister died. No one told me. Well, after the funeral my mom told me. But no one told me when she was dying or when she died. My brother doesn't talk to me. My mom asked me, as she lay on her bed, dying, to call and make up. I called. I left a message. I tried during the next 3 weeks as she suffered while she was dying. It was never reciprocated. I guess its not my fault. But it doesn't always feel like it. I wish my brother would talk to me. But I can't make him or force him. Kind of sucks.

Friends................they do come and go. I have 439 "friends" on facebook. I have had more at times. I would ballpark it as 600 "friends" who I have had at one point or another. But the precious few? A dozen? Maybe. I have a friend or two from when I was growing up. They know who they are. I have a few friends now. But the number of friends you can count on when the chips are down? Its very few. Do a simple test. Unfriend a dozen people. See how many notice. I had one "friend" who didn't notice for 6 months that she was unfriended. I guess we weren't really friends at all. After all, wouldn't you notice if someone just disappeared? Maybe not. Maybe that is the problem.

Maybe Facebook or Myspace or these other sites have made it too easy to have "friends" but havent changed what a friend is. Maybe we should call them "people we used to know" on Facebook and leave friends for those people who would drive 500 miles to help you or kick the crap out of someone who hurts you. Maybe a friend is someone who you can call and cry to, even if you are a guy. Do we really have friends like that? I am sure but they are precious few. And when you find them, hold on to them.

I don't know Baz Luhrmann from Bath Salts. But dude was not an idiot. He had some ideas that really make sense. Sadly, I think most people, me included, forgot these basic lessons. I think its time for a reminder. I am glad this came on the radio tonight.

Its hard

Okay, I will preface this with its not whining or complaining. Its just my thoughts. And if you don't know that by now then a) you shouldn't be reading this and b) you don't really know me.

So we are 3 days from the worst month of the year. Yep, September. Green Day was right: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NU9JoFKlaZ0 I really do not like the entire month. One of the reasons is that it is the anniversary of my dad's passing. Less than a month from now. I was in my 20s. It wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to anyone, but it sucks when you are in your 20s. And then add my aunt saying it was a blessing (more on that another day), and it sucked - big time.

Add to this my wife's grandmother passing last week. It all adds up to a lot of thinking. Especially on those 4 hour flights to and from Chicago.

Where does this all lead? My dad was a freaking genius. I know, we all think our dads are the smartest men in the world. Its a good thing to think. My kids think I am Superman some days. I love them for that. Great kids. But what happens when your dad really is a genius? How do I live up to his standards?

My dad has a PhD in pharmaceutical chemistry. I don't even know what the hell that means. Seriously. I would have to look it up to tell you and I don't look things up when I am blogging. I know he has it because I saw his diploma. Hell, I have his PhD thesis. I can understand the dedication. Past that, it might as well be written in ancient Greek or Guamanian. I have no idea what it means or what it proves.

But I do know that he turned that PhD into a research position with Johnson & Johnson. And they wanted him so badly that they gave him a down payment on a house and paid him well for what he did. He worked on two products that most of us use every day. (Maybe for another day.) And heck, if my dad was a research scientist, it wouldn't be so bad. But he went on to do product development, then international mergers and acquisitions, then ran operating companies, then worked on development of a wheelchair that would go on sand and upstairs. So, lets see: chemistry, marketing, product development, management. I am sure he did some things that I don't even know about.

So, I was 16 and scared of growing up. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I knew what I didn't want to do: I didn't want to go into business. I didn't want to compete with that history. I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to compare to that.

Sure, I don't have to be compared to him, but how can you not? MJ's son is always going to be compared to MJ. Griffey Junior is going to be compared to Griffey. Barry Bonds to Bobby Bonds (sure Barry is a cheater, allegedly, and Bobby wasn't, but have you considered that Barry cheated so he could exceed Dad's success and make sure he succeeded). You see how this works.

So I avoided it. I went away from it. I am a lawyer. I didn't go into law with some grand ideas of making the world a better place or representing death row inmates. I know work to make the world a better place, but looking back, it was more of an escape than a desire.

And as I start pushing 40, I realize I was wrong. Sure, I would be compared to him. But I could have succeeded as well. I could have met those expectations that I know he had for me. Sure, no PhD in strange chemistry and no patents in my name. But I could have gone into mergers. I could have done product development. What I didn't know then that I know now is that I learned from him. I sat in on some amazing dinners, took him to the office and heard things most 16 year olds don't get to hear. It was an experience you don't get anywhere else.

I failed, I guess. Maybe I have not lived up to my potential. Maybe I could have done more. Maybe this is how it was supposed to work out. I don't know. I just know that when your dad isn't a billionaire but is a genius, it really is hard to live up to the standards. I wish I would have known that 20 years ago.

What the hell do you say?

This has been a long 8 days. First, my wife's grandmother died. Then, a friend called me to tell me that his daughter passed away at the end of last week. Fuck. What on earth do you say?

My wife's grandmother was 100. She died peacefully. You know what, that doesn't make it suck any less. It still sucks. I knew her since she was 78. Damn, my parents didn't even live to be 78. Yet, I met her when she was 78. She was a great lady. She always knew what was going on and always wanted to know. She was active and alert. She was just a really cool grandma. And by the time I met her, I had already lost two of my grandparents and lost another just 2 years later. I always called her grandma. That is what she was. So it was sad.

Then my friend called me today. He knew last week was a long week and he had a minute today. So he called me to tell me his adult daughter had passed away. I didn't know what to say. I said "I am so sorry." The circle of life has been disrupted. Parents aren't supposed to outlive their kids. What the hell? I didn't know what to say.

What makes this worse is my friend lost his wife earlier this year. Two in a year? My mom went through it. My dad and her dad died two months apart. They were in their 60s and 80s. My buddy's wife was in her 60s and his daughter was about my age. How do you explain that? What sense is there in that?

I don't know what to tell him. I offered to do anything, but we all do that. We know its something you are supposed to say. And we all know no one ever takes you up on that. But what else do you say? Here is what I think I say:

My friend, I am sorry for your loss. I can't begin to understand how much this hurts. You, amigo, are tougher than most. I don't know how you deal with this, but you do. You are a good friend, a good human being and a good guy. You are a role model and an example to us all. I cannot take away the pain or make it feel any better. I can only offer you my friendship, an ear to listen when you need to, and a promise to always be here for you.

What the hell?

So I have a client who has a small dispute with another person. The other person, lets call this person, idiot, sends me a letter that I get on Friday. I had a chance to review it. But I haven't really had a chance to do anything with it. Idiot calls me today and this is our entire conversation:

I: This is Maria *****.
Me: Hi
I: Did you receive my letter?
Me: Yes.
I: What are you going to do?
Me: Well, I need you to give me a couple of weeks. I have had a family emergency. There was a death in the family.
I: So what are you going to do?
Me: I don't know if you understood me. There was a family emergency. I can't do anything until I get back.
I: That is not my problem.
Me: Let me see if I understand this right. You sent me a letter. I just told you I had a family emergency and you won't give me two weeks to deal with it?
I: Yes. That is not my problem:
Me: Let me be clear. I just told you that I have a family emergency and you have such little compassion that you won't give me a couple of weeks to get this resolved. I hope your life is so perfect that you never have someone die because you clearly are too small minded, too idiotic to deal with something like this.

That was it. Who the hell doesn't give someone extra time to deal with something because of a death in the family? I have now had it happen - twice. What the hell is wrong with people? You know what I do for a living? I resolve disputes. Sometimes its over $900 (as in this case) and sometimes its for a lot more money. But its never a life and death issue. If you cannot find it in your heart, assuming you have one you low life piece of crap, to give me some extra time, then I cannot find it in my heart to ever care what happens to you and your scumbag life. I hope you never have to deal with the crap that I have had to deal with, but if you do, I am pretty sure it will break you as a person. Sad. Sad. Sad.

The worst racist ever

Okay, so I was called a racist the other day by the neighbor from hell. At first, it really bothered me. I was like "What the hell?" Me? Racist. I was ready to follow the lead of Oran Juice Jones. (Okay, too obscure a reference? I was ready to do a Rambo, jam you (her) and flat blast both of you (her). But, I didnt. Then, yesterday, the same crazy lady said it again. (Among other things which I can't write because it even makes me blush and you have read what I can write!)

Then I was thinking about it. I might be the worst racist ever. No, not might be. I am. I showed up in court one day after shaving my head. A friend of mine is a deputy district attorney and said to me that I look liked a skinhead. We had a good chuckle and when he saw my client was an African American, he thought it was even funnier.

So, lets see. How bad of a racist am I? Lets start with being a minority. Yes, religiously I am a minority. I would be odd for a minority to be an "ist" against another minority, but it happens. We all know it does. So maybe that isn't the best evidence.

Lets see. My 3 boys? All Hispanic. Yes, I would have to be the worst racist in the world to be a white dude who adopted Hispanic kids. And its not like they are pasty white like the wife and me. You look at them and you can tell they are Hispanic. So, chalk that up to me being an idiot.

Oh, these boys, they go to a school where whites like me are a minority. The school has more Asian kids and Hispanics are a close third, followed by African Americans, mixed race kids and American Indians. Yep, I am the racist who sent my kids to a school with diversity.

My best friend? Filipino. Don't tell him that. Not that he is Filipino, that he is my best friend. He may not know it. Its not like we walk around calling each other BFF or anything. Hell, I took his 2nd youngest son to soccer practice last week. Bad, bad racist.

Oh yeah, I play soccer every week. Lets see, we have the dude from Mexico and his sons who play. We have the African guy who plays (actually from Africa) along with the dude from Jamaica or the West Indies. I don't know because I don't ask. Dude can kick the ball in the right direction. Its all I care about. How about the dude from South Africa? Actually, I play with two of them. One is black and the other is white. Then we have the Asian guys from all across Asia. We are the most diverse soccer game west of New York City.

I have coached soccer since I was 20. Lets see, I coached a team from South Sacramento that included several African American kids. I coached high school with a team that had kids from every background and I still talk to some of those guys, one of whom is, ready for it, African American. Dude even has a name that isn't Bob or Mike or something boring like that. His name is African. And he is a pretty cool guy, although don't tell him that.

I have clients who are from all over the world. I literally have clients from Mexico, Canada, Africa. I have clients whose racial background is everything you can imagine, including Guamanian. I can barely spell Guamanian, yet I have a client who is a really nice lady and Guamanian.

So, I have concluded I am like the worst racist ever. No, not like. If I were to be racist, I would be THE worst racist ever. The racist pieces of crap would kick me out for being such a bad racist. I would probably get my lily white ass kicked up one side of Broadway and down the other, assuming that these racist jackasses would go to Broadway. Maybe they would kick my lily white ass up one side of Loserville and down the other. Thats probably better.

So now I laugh at the crazy lady who called me a racist. I think its one of the last words someone would use to describe me. She can go take a long walk off a non-existent pier in the middle of nowhere. Maybe we can ship her crazy ass to Mars.

Yodle law sucks

Devan Callahan called me this morning from Yodle Law. Maybe the dweebs name is Dev-on. Pronounce it slowly. His message was that he had some questions. The entire message:

"Hey Jonathan this is Devan Callahan. I have some questions for you. Please call me at 512 730 4413."

When I hear that message, I think its someone who actually has some questions for me, right? Isn't that what everyone thinks? Apparently, not these douches. These douches think that this is acceptable marketing.

I have had jobs where I was selling crap. I can sell ice to Eskimos. I can sell sand to Egypt. I can sell water to dolphins. I never, ever, ever once left a message that wasn't perfectly clear as to what I was doing. Ever. If the person wants my product, they will call me back. If my product sucks, then they won't call me back. Its that simple.

But, if I spend my time calling some idiot who tells me he has questions and then does not tell me on the voice mail that he is selling something, then I can only come to one conclusion: his product sucks and his company sucks more. (Oh, this is my OPINION!) I mean, seriously, is it that hard to tell me that you are calling from Pieceofcrap Law, er, Yodle Law, and you want to sell me something. After all, if your so good at whatever the hell you think you do, it should be an easy sell.

I simply don't get these folks who have to be deceptive to sell their product or service. I dont like it. I think its lame. I think it tells me more about your product and you then it does about anything else. You are so unsure of your sales skills and your product that you think people will only call you back if you dont tell them where you are calling from.

Guess what Yodle Law? We aren't idiots. If you can't sell us based on telling us who you are, maybe you should go find a different crappy service to sell.

Who is rich

This is adapted from a talk I gave on August 3, 2012. (Trust me, the talk was better than this blog post.)

I was asked to give a talk and had about a month to come up with a topic. It took me until the week of the talk to come up with a topic and even then, it wasn't just me.

A friend of mine sent me an article from Atlantic Monthly. The article was about a woman with a special needs child who was grateful for what she had, even though she couldn't do things that a lot of her friends could do. I shared the article with my wife who then shared with me a quote from the Talmud (you can figure out what the Talmud is here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talmud): “Who is rich? The one who appreciates what he has.” (Pirkei Avot 4:1)

So, what does this mean. I have two stories about people who may be unappreciative. We have all heard of the Olympic Badminton scandal. This isn’t the badminton you learned in gym class in high school. These folks hit the shuttlecock, yes, that is what it is called, at like 100mph. They are some of the best badminton players in the world. And what did they do? They tried to lose. They wanted to lose. You are an Olympic athlete. You are the best of the best at your sport and you want to lose? I don’t understand that.

Then there are those parents. You know the type. “My kid wont sit still” or “my kid is the biggest brat in the world” or “my kid wont sit in the car.” We all know the type. Those folks are never happy and their kids are always wrong. These folks aren’t happy with their kids unless they are perfect, going to Harvard (or Yale or Princeton), and do all of their hobbies perfectly. They have to be the star and have the best manners.

In the Old Testament, there are prayers that are to be said every day. Very few people actually do this, but they are there. The day is supposed to begin with a series of simple blessings thanking God for things that we take for granted. These are : 

•  “Thank you, God, for giving me life.”
• “Thank God I can see.”
• “Thank God I can use my hands and feet.”
• “Thank God I can think.”

A close reading, shows that none of these prayers are about material things. There is no prayer thanking God for a house or food or even our children. These prayers are about being alive, about the gift of sight, use of our hands and the ability to think, an ability that separates us from some animals.

Judaism recognizes that true happiness comes from appreciating and consciously enjoying what is already good in your life. There is no focus on what is missing in life. It’s the missing that brings the sadness. When we focus on what we have, we have true happiness. 

You see, God gave us gifts not just so we have these things, like birds, trees, flowers, and animals. That is only half of it. The other half is making ourselves aware of these gifts. That means we stop and smell the flowers, we appreciate the birds chirping (maybe not at 3 am outside of our bedroom window), we appreciate the fact that we are alive. 

I talked with a client on Friday. I asked him how he was doing and he said “I am breathing and on this side of earth. Its always a good day that way.” It made sense. It worked well with my theme and I am glad I talked to him on Friday. 

I think its simple. The parents who constantly complain about their kids, the Olympic athletes, they are both missing this. They do not appreciate what they have. They are always thinking about what is missing. What my kid does not do right, what deficiencies my child has. The badminton players were thinking about how to create a better matchup in the next round and not thinking about the fact that many of us would trade anything to be an Olympic athlete. That is what makes the Paralympics and Special Olympics so great: those athletes appreciate what they have. 

My oldest son has been in LA for 15 months now. He hasn’t lived at home in 7 years. I could complain about this. But my son was adopted. My other two sons are his biological brothers. If I never had him, I would never have the other two. Without those two, we never would have had our daughter. (Trust me, it runs in my family. You have to adopt before you can have a biological child.) So, while I could whine and bitch and moan about what is missing, I would rather appreciate what we have – 4 kids who I love and adore. 

I think the important thing is to notice and appreciate what you have. Once you do that, then you will always be happy.

Debt collectors make me laugh

Regular readers of this blog may remember when I wrote about an actual conversation with a debt collector. It was funny. Well, I thought it was funny. You can read it here: http://randomrants08.blogspot.com/2012/02/actual-conversation-with-debt-collector.html Tell me that isn't funny.

Anyway, I wake up this morning and I have an email with a pending comment. This is the entire comment "and people wonder why debt collectors are in a bad mood. People like you. You were acting obnoxious... you don't think the collector is going to play stupid and act the same way?"

What the hell? Seriously? People wonder why debt collectors are in a bad mood? No we don't. Most debt collectors are not in a bad mood. They are just miserable. And who wouldn't be? You spend your day calling people, most of whom do not actually owe you money, and trying to get money out of them. You get no training, your boss has an IQ of 80 and can't spell collection, and his boss is some rich guy who decided to buy debts for pennies on the dollar and try to make money by scamming people into paying, whether they owe the money or not. Sure, there are some good debt collectors. But I can count them on one hand.

And its people like me? Really? What kind of person am I? Oh. you mean an educated person who helps people stop being ripped off. Yeah, because debt collectors are known for their honest. My 4'11 black haired client is not a 5'6 blonde. At least, not in my lifetime. The "service" on a property that does not exist is one of my new favorites. Or how about the debt collector who served an African-American male instead of my client, an African-American female, because he assumed they were related. Sure, and all Asian people speak the same language. And all white skinny folks do meth. And all.....well, you get the point. 

I know, I am such a bad human being. I actually help people avoid being ripped off. I actually make the debt collector do his/her job. I know I am evil because so many of them just go away when I write to them. And some of them even write me checks. I am sure they would do that if they weren't doing anything wrong. They would just do it because they are such nice people.

And, that is not obnoxious. You want to see obnoxious? I can show you obnoxious. I still have a standing challenge to have an insult game with anyone who wants to try to hang with me. But I can play dirty. Its mostly PG and family friendly, but it doesn't have to be. So, Mr. Debt collector, come and try me. I am up for it, are you?

Oh, and most debt collectors don't act dumb. They are dumb. They got a job as a debt collector. Quick, name a worse job than debt collector. You can't. Why not? There aren't any. Seriously, its the bottom of the barrel. I would rather be the dude who walks behind the elephants at the circus and cleans up crap. That would be a better job. I would rather be the guy who holds Brittany Spears' hair as she pukes and doesnt clean herself. Thats how bad a job debt collecting is.

And this guy is funny. He has a blog. I won't share the website because I don't want any of you to have to read his nonsense. And I dont want him to think he actually has followers. On his website, he "gripes" about people who call him. Seriously? That is a good thing to do on your business blog. Dude went to community college and now "owns" his own collection agency. Good for him. Here is an idea though, Eric: leave me alone. I don't care what you think. You are a debt collector. In the world of good and evil, you picked the wrong side. Come see the light and help people avoid having to deal with folks like you. Oh, and please use proper English when you are going to comment on my blog.