Hastags, Social Media and Morons - oh my

You see, I could go on a hate rant right now. I could go off on a whole bunch of dumb people and explain why I hate them. But that wouldn't be fun. I mean, anyone can do that. I think I am going to mock them instead. Isn't it more fun that way, anyway? Besides, if I don't do it, who will? If not now, then when? If not because, then why? If not this, then what? If not here, then where? If not on a blog, then how? Sorry, I thought I would start by mocking those who take things too seriously. This blog is for fun. So fun it shall be. Without further ado, here are my thoughts on hashtags and social media experts.

What the hell is up with the use of hashtags? Fine, I did a mini-rant about this on Facebook.  But that is limited to people who are my friends on Facebook - all 2 of them. For the rest of you, what is the deal with #? I don't get it. Fine, if you are on twitter or instagram or Facebook even and you put "#" in front of something, it becomes some weird link and people can search for it. Great. Whatever.

The problem is that people then write sentences like this: "#I #am #a #hashtag #loser." Seriously, every word begins with the freaking hashtag. Or they do this, which is even more annoying: "#iamgoingtosqueezeallofmywordstogetherinonelongwordsonoonecanfigureoutwhatthehellthissaysandthen theyaregoingtogocrazytryingtoreadit."(Seriously, you try to type a sentence like that and see how hard it is. Your hands naturally hit the space bar after every word. And speaking of space bars, who remembers when the computer keyboard used to have "Space Bar" written on the space bar so you knew what it is? ME ME ME!)

You do know that your beloved hashtag was called a pound sign or number sign before twitter, right? Seriously, if you are not old enough to know that, you should be banned from using the stupid symbol. Stop it. Please? The world is a better place without the hashtag. Or, as you would say #yourstipudhashtagssuckandyoushouldbetakenoutbackandbeatenforoveruseofthem."

I am so sick and tired of social media experts. Everyone knows everything about social media. Really? You do? Then why does my blog on debt collectors do better than all of your crap? I seriously wrote 3 paragraphs a week ago about a phone number. A single phone number. First freaking page of Google - every time. I get more calls now about that phone number than I care to get. But you guys are the freaking experts, right?

Look, social media is interesting. It can be dynamic. But too many "experts" don't know jack about it. First, if you need to tell me you are an expert, you aren't. I can tell the people who are good at it and the people who blow chunks, yes, I said blow chunks, at it. The first sign is the dufus who tells everyone how good he is at it.

Second, if you were that good at it, you would have so much freaking money that my $50 per month budget would not be the difference between paying the mortgage and not paying the mortgage. Seriously. Its $50.

Third, I would get so much less spam than I get now. I get that you have "secret resources" that help you get email addresses. But "dude@mydomain.com" is not a valid email address. Its crap. It is you spamming me. You don't know what my email address is. You are just guessing that I have a catchall set up and I will see it. And, yes, I do have a catchall since some people can't spell my first name - which isn't that hard and is in my domain name!

Fourth, not everything has to be exploited for commercial gain. And this goes for you non-social media experts too. Look, there is more to life than making a buck. One day I may share the story of how I learned that but this is supposed to be funny, not sad, so I won't do it now. But it is okay to post things about life, having fun, enjoying things. Not everything has to be about how you can make a buck. So go screw yourselves for ruining this. Yes, screw yourself. Not someone else. Just yourself!

There, now I feel bad. #so #will #all #of #the #social #media "#experts" #go #stand #up #and #jump #in #a #lake #with #concrete #or #maybe #takealongwalkoffashortpier #or #maybe #just #GO #AWAY. (You actual folks who understand this can stay. I still like you!) 

Another actual phone call with a dufus

See, you thought that "Actual Phone Call with a Dufus was funny," but made up. Well, here is another actual phone call with a dufus.

Dufus (D): Hi, is Johnnie there?
Me: This is Jonathan.
D: Johnnie?
Me: Sure. Why not?
D: Do you have any payday loans?
Me: Where is the kilo?
D: What?
Me: Where is the kilo?
D: What kilo?
Me: You know, the kilo. You were supposed to have the kilo by now.
D: I don't know what you are talking about.
Me: Look, he told me you would have a kilo of the good stuff. I need it now.
D: I don't have a kilo.
Me: What are we going to do now? I need that kilo.
D: Johnnie, I don't know..............
Me: Your only job was to get the kilo and you screwed that up.
(silence..........................................................way too much silence)
Me: You need to get the kilo. When are you going to have it?
D: I am not.
Me: Then what are we going to do? They expect a kilo.
D: Johnnie, I have no idea what you are talking about.
Me: You have screwed this up. All you needed to do was to get the kilo and you couldn't do that. What the fuck am I going to do now?
D: I don't know.
Me: I hope you are happy. You screwed this up...........................

(At which point I hung up to take a real call!)

Actual phone call with a dufus

Okay, fine, dufus may not be politically correct. Idiot? Moron? Douchebag of epic proportions? Loser? Fool? Pick your term. Let me set the stage.............

Its May, 2013. Our hero is sitting in his office trying to work.......or trying to make it look like he is working. Either way, there is work being done. He sits alone. The office is quiet save for the really crappy music he listens to, for which he is mocked. The phone rings.

Our hero looks at the caller ID. It shows "541-200-3342." He thinks "Not this nonsense again." He contemplates pressing the reject button on his phone and letting it go to voice mail for the 1,024 time since March. But, since he isn't a huge fan of powers of 2 (do the math!), he answers it. After all, it can't be any worse than the 128 debt collectors who have been robodialing his office.

"This is Jonathan," he says with a smirk. "Hello Johnnie," says a voice that sounds like a bad Koothrappali imitation. "This is Jonathan," our hero says more sarcastically. "Hey Johnnie, this is Michael at Road to Recovery." Road to Recovery? Our hero is pretty sure he is not an alcoholic. Besides, alcoholism isn't funny. It isn't. Ever. Seriously.

"What can I help you with?" he asks. "Johnnie, do you have any payday loans?" asks the poorly spoken fraudster. "Sure," says Jonathan. "And how many do you have?" "Oh, um, 6."

Okay, so our great hero has no payday loans, but what the heck? It can't hurt to play along.

"And how much are these loans for, excluding late fees?" asks a guy who sounds like Wolowitz's bestie. "$4,000," is the sharp reply. "And are these storefront loans or online loans, Johnnie?" "Oh, storefront loans, of course."

"Great, Johnnie. We can help you consolidate your loans so you can save money." Apparently, Sheldon's bad dream hasn't realized that Jonathan is not Johnnie, but why should that stop a scam from happening? "Please hold while I connect you to the representative."

Jonathan sits on hold for about 10 seconds. A 2nd representative picks up the phone. This woman sounds like she hit the helium before picking up the phone.

"Johnnie, I understand you want to consolidate your payday loans," she starts. What she doesn't realize is that will be the last full sentence she gets out on this call.

"Help me," he says. "Help me. I need to bury the body. What are we going to do with the body?" he asks.

"What, what are............" she stammers. "The body. The dead body. I need to hide the body," Jonathan says a bit louder. "Sir, what........." she starts, but can't finish because Jonathan says "The dead body. He told me you would tell me where to hide the body. I need to hide this body."

"We can't do that............." "He told me you could. He said you would help me. What am I supposed to do with this body? I need to hide it."

"I think we should call............" is quietly heard before our hero starts in on her again. "The body. Help me hide the body. You people are useless. I need to hide the bod..................."

The call goes silent. Apparently, she couldn't help hide the body. She ended the call, her face whiter than Casper as she believed that "Johnnie" had a body to hide.

In the office, Jonathan is laughing to himself. He would laugh with someone else, but, not surprisingly, he is alone, having scared off any potential coworkers with his brusque and confrontational style coupled with his bizarre sense of humor.

Road to Recovery continues the calls...................but the body is still waiting to be hidden.................... 

Butterfly kisses

This is probably pretty good listening music during this post: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHcqaDNOqyI

I have to write this tonight while I think about it. Its been an odd week. We know two people who passed away. I was thinking about it. Trying to put it into perspective. One was 40ish. One was in her 60s. What to say? What to do? "I am sorry for your loss" seems so trite. I know. I have had to listen to people tell me that. I appreciate the expression, but it doesn't make it better.

Then I was going to write about how you need to enjoy life. Life is short. You never know when it may end. You know the cliches. There are a ton of movies about it, songs about it. I try not to write those types of things.

So tonight was the father daughter dance at the Sacramento Children's Museum. Fine, its called something else, but its a father daughter dance. It is 2 hours of my life when time stood still.

We went last year. It was their first one. My baby was 2. Dinner at IHOP followed by playing at the museum. She loved it.

This year, she was a year older, a year wiser, a year sweeter. Dinner at IHOP was followed by playing at the museum. But it was different. It was sweeter. It was more sentimental.

She shared. She took turns. She expressed herself. When someone tried to take the baby she was playing with, she stood up for herself. She was such a little person.

About an hour in, maybe a bit longer, they played that song. (If you haven't clicked the link yet, you probably should now.) I held her. I danced with her in my arms. I listened to the words. "Oh, with all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right/To deserve a hug every morning And butterfly kisses at night." For the first time in over 2 years, I had tears in my eyes in public. 


She wasn't looking. But she knew. She turned towards me and, with that small, soft, sweet hand, she wiped them away. Just one little hand wiping my eyes. She smiled at me. She knew exactly what to do.


The next song came on. She stood on my feet and danced with me. She stopped about half way through the song and looked up at me. She smiled the smile of my little angel. It was the sweetest smile I have ever seen. For those few seconds, there is no one else around and my baby reminded me how amazing she is.


You see, for 2 hours tonight, I didn't have a problem in the world. I didn't have to deal with anything that was wrong. Because for 2 hours, to this little person, her world was me. Its a feeling I have never had before. 


And for 6 minutes, during that 2 hours, my baby reminded me that not only did I not have a problem in the world, but that the world was a perfect place. There was nothing bad. There was nothing wrong. She reminded me I am at the place I am supposed to be at. She was never supposed to be. It just wasn't possible. But she is. I know. I saw her. I held her. I kissed her. And she reminded me. 


So those cliches are right. Life is too short. You need to enjoy every minute. You never know when your time is up. But, more importantly, you have to remember to enjoy those minutes. You have to find a way, somehow, someway, to forget the bad and focus on the good. You need to find a way to do those things you said "I will do next year" and do them now, when you can, because next year is not guaranteed.


Thank you Brooklyn, for reminding me, for showing me, for being my angel tonight.

Expectations

I am going to write this without a) sounding pompous or b) sounding like a jerk. At least, that is my attempt. If I fail, oh well. I tried. Life's lessons aren't based on succeeding, but based on failing. So here goes............

What the fuck is wrong with people? Why do they expect things that they are not willing to do themselves? Seriously. I don't care what you do for a living. If you want someone to do something for you, you sure as hell better be willing to do it for them. Or, as in this case, if you won't do it for me, why the hell would I do it for you?

Let me give you some background. I was hired on a case. I asked for an extension to file an answer since the client hired me the day the answer was due. A phone call and an email were sent. No response. So I pound out an answer and file it. Fine. I wasn't happy with it, but I had to get it filed. I also served discovery. These are written questions they have to answer. No big deal. Its all information they should have had before they filed the lawsuit. How hard would it be in 5 weeks to copy your file, prepare some answers and send it back? Its not that hard!

So what happens? Today they have the secretary call me. She wants an extension. I ask why. She doesn't know. She was just told to call and ask for one. I tell her that I wasn't given an extension and I am not sure why I should then give them one now. Her response is "I don't know." Fine.

So the attorney calls me. Two lessons here before I tell you the story: 1. Don't piss me off. 2. I am smarter than her. Yes, I am. I know my files. I know my clients. I know what I did. I especially know my files when I am expecting you to call me.

She says they need two weeks. No. Why do they need it? Just because. Why didn't you give me an extension? Well, she didn't know I asked for one. Of course, this was the same excuse she used on a different case with me too. So, two cases and in neither case did she see my emails. Amazing how that works. She admits it was the right email address. She just didn't see them.

Yeah, lesson #3 - don't bullshit a bullshitter. My dad taught me that. She was full of it. She saw them. She was just ignoring me. Fine. I don't care if you ignore me. Just don't be surprised when I come back at you as a jerk.

Look, I can be nice. I would give you the shirt off my back if you needed it. I prefer being nice. But if you screw with me, or you screw with my clients, or you screw with someone who shouldn't be screwed with (the disabled, folks who are down on their luck), then don't be surprised that I can be the biggest prick in the world. I can, and will, make you wish you hadn't met me.

So, she doesn't get her extension simply because she refused to give me one. And now she is going to learn how to try a case with me. She lied to me and now she will pay. Its a lot of work. Its a pain in the ass. I will do everything I can to make sure my client is protected.

The big lesson here: expect to be treated the way you treat people. If you wont' do it for me, I won't do it for you. Promise. 

Wednesday thoughts on remembering those we have lost

Today started out with so much promise. It was a Wednesday like any other. The boys went to school. The baby hung out at home. I had some work to get done. All was good.

Today ended with me being sad. It was a Wednesday unlike others. People died. I guess that happens every Wednesday. Just not every Wednesday that affects me.

A friend called. Someone died. I don't know this person, but they were under 21. A life gone. So much promise. So many opportunities. So much to live for. Gone.

A friend posted on Facebook. Someone died. I don't know this person either. They were under 30. A life gone. So much promise. So many opportunities. So much to live for. Gone.

Bam. Two lives in one day. Just gone. There is no way to explain this. There is no way to make it make sense. I told one of my friends "Take some time to remember the good times. That's the best way to honor him."

Its what I do. I honor my parents. Not every day. There isn't something to do every day. But I have my ways.

I play soccer a lot of Sundays during the year. Everyone knows this. Its Sunday Soccer. Its part of me. It becomes part of us. Each Sunday, before we start, I take a moment to myself and say a few words to my dad. I have done this for 10 years now. Its my time to thank him. Every time I score, I grab a few blades of grass and toss them in the air. 2 years now. Every goal. Every time. Its my way of acknowledging them.

I know its weird. I get it. I have never told anyone this before. But I felt like now was a good time.

You see, when someone dies, a lot of us want to cry and be sad. But, it is those good memories that make the person. Its those times that we want people to remember. I have said it before, and I will say it again, when I die, I don't want a sad funeral. I want a party. If you are sad, you haven't learned from me what I have learned in my three losses: life is way too short to worry about things.

The Serenity Prayer says "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference" 

To me, it should say "God grant me the serenity to understand that life is way too short and I cannot change some things. I am not going to worry about those things. I am going to enjoy the precious years  I have on Earth and worry only about things I can control." 

So, take a minute today, tomorrow, the next day, and find your way of remembering someone who passed away.