Sunday, September 9, 2018

Volume 13, Number 1: Rachael Reynolds

Four years ago today, September 9, 2014, suicide hit as close to home for me as it ever has.  Rachael Reynolds, a 19-year-old woman who had graduated from Farmington High School the year before, ended her life by jumping off a freeway overpass in Farmington Hills.  Farmington High is just a couple miles southwest of my high school (Harrison High), and the freeway overpass in question is just a couple miles away from either school.  From what I read on her Twitter page, she had dropped out of college and wasn't happy with her body, even though she certainly looked nice to me.  Her final tweet: "The worst and the last day."

It's particularly awful when it's someone so young, someone who does not have the life experience to understand when someone else--someone who just might have gone through a similar situation in their youth and recognizes the pain--says to them, "Don't give up--things are going to get better."

Take it from me--yeah, things can and do get better.  Fifteen years ago, I was out of work and heavy in debt.  And I had no way of knowing where my next job would come from.  I was fearful of becoming a burden on my family, fearful that I would descend into a life of shame and destitution.  It took support from my family, a few years of working dead-end jobs that barely made ends meet, and a little good luck*, but I got out of that mess.  If, on the other hand, you take your life, you wipe out whatever chances you may have.

The real challenge is when the depression and anxiety becomes so severe that in an instant, you forget all the previous times things got better and the good times and how everybody goes through some kind of shit that nobody else does and how there just might be some good luck in the future to address the problems you have today.

Here's my perspective on asking for help.  I've come to realize that it is not a sign of weakness or incompetence--an act of strength. It takes strength to overcome anxieties about how people may think of you as a person based on what you say, strength to ask questions when you don't have the answers, strength to persist in telling your story if the first person or the first two people or the first 100 people don't listen

Metro Detroiters, remember the Electrifying Mojo?  He said, "If you ever feel like you're nearin' the end of your rope, tie a knot.  Keep hangin', keep rememberin', that there ain't nobody bad like you."

In closing, I'd like to share a song about what a terrible option suicide is. Out of Control by Oingo Boingo.  This lyric should always stay in my head: "Don't you know / That everyone around you / Has felt the pain you feel today." I wish everyone who has ever contemplated suicide would instantly hear this song, which Danny Elfman wrote in 1990.

*Luck--that could be another blog entry in itself.  The two bits of good luck I needed to get out of the mess I had in 2003 didn't come until 2005 (when I got the help I needed to get out of that debt) and 2007 (when I landed the job I have now).  Had I ended my life in 2003, I would have left behind loved ones wondering what they could have done or said to prevent it, denied myself the opportunity to prove I could overcome my problems; left behind still more people wondering if they inadvertently left a proverbial straw on the camel's back that proved to be one too many; and obviously, I would have missed out on what I have now.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Volume 12, Number 2: The Legends Fest Fiasco

August 13 marked the first anniversary of the Legends Fest fiasco in Dudley, Georgia.

If you don't know what Legends Fest was: In a nutshell, it was a pro wrestling event created by a man named Greg Greene, who, in a span of a little over two months, managed to get a mix of current independent wrestlers and superstars of days gone by (as listed in the poster shown below)--mostly the latter--to show up for the event.  Thing is, he did not plan on paying them.

I wasn't there for this sham of an event, but it struck a nerve with me for two reasons:
  • First, because I've followed WWE since 1987 and therefore am familiar with a lot of the names on the poster.  Examples: Arn Anderson and Tully Blanchard, who were two of the famous Four Horsemen in NWA/WCW, also worked as a tag team in the WWE called The Brain Busters (Bobby Heenan was their manager).  Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man, main-evented WrestleMania IV (losing to Randy "Macho Man" Savage for the then-vacant WWE Heavyweight Championship).  Ronnie Garvin, I remember from that time he lost to Greg "The Hammer" Valentine in a retirement match, only to make Valentine's life miserable as a referee.
  • Second, and more importantly, I've had a number of situations in which my time and energy were wasted and I got next to nothing in return--a summer job from Hell in 1992 (it was supposed to be a research job but it ended up being door-to-door sales); the time in 1999 when I met with someone to buy a used car (they never got a cent from me, but they wasted a lot of my time), only to find that he didn't have a clear title; and a 2007 job interview with a company that claimed to be in marketing but ultimately was nothing but street peddling.

OK, enough about me.  Back to Legends Fest.  A few dozen former wrestlers, plus a few young wrestlers currently working the independent circuits, went through all the trouble to get there.

The first red flag might have been raised on July 20, when Greene announced that the event was being moved from Dublin to the much smaller town of Dudley (or, as at least a few of the talent involved would put it, "the middle of nowhere").  His explanation: "Due to overwhelming responses we have found it would be necessary to hold Legends Fest in a more suitable location."  I'd love to know what "overwhelming responses" and "suitable location" meant, knowing what we know now.  Maybe the folks at the venue Greene wanted to use in Dublin overwhelmed him with messages saying they didn't want his sham of an event in their town.  Maybe he didn't sell enough tickets to pay for the use of the Dublin location and decided a cheaper venue would be more suitable given the situation he put himself in.

Two days before the event, B. Brian Blair (one-half of The Killer Bees, a tag team that performed in WWE in the 1980s) noted that the talent Greene had listed on the poster was too expensive for the local demographic; when he called Greene, he responded by stating that they got the money from sponsorships--never mind that the poster mentioned no sponsors, and Greene probably never had any to begin with.

Greene had booked rooms at two different hotels in Dublin (Quality Inn and La Quinta), but with a credit card that got declined.

The building that Greene chose to hold the event in was an abandoned school (the Millville Alumni Association Complex, which, according to former WCW announcer Scott Hudson, had once been Millville High School).  There were no signs outside the building to indicate that any kind of event was going on--or in any of the surrounding towns, for that matter.  A number of the people listed on the poster (Garvin, Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat, Davey Richards, Angelina Love) had already smelled a rat and did not show up.

On top of all that, Greene didn't have the money to pay the talent, even though he claimed to have sold more than $10,000 worth of tickets.  Greene said that he was expecting payment from the site through which he set up ticket sales for the event, Eventbrite, but that they e-mailed him at 4am on the morning of the event to tell him they would not wire him the money, at least not as he had expected.  It is likely that Greene did not have a legal PayPal account, and that is why he did not receive the money from Eventbrite.

Paul Eubanks (another promoter, who had been in the business since 1984, and had never met Greene before the event) said Greene asked him for a loan--first for $1,000, but this request was later increased to  $5,000.  Eubanks and Hudson also said the local sheriff threatened to shut down the show unless the talent was paid.  Greene ended up writing a load of checks that bounced--many from his own mother's checkbook, which he had stolen.  According to multiple witnesses, Greene was sweating and stuttering and had a dry mouth, and nobody knew that he had no money until he gave Anderson a chair to sit in, which broke, and a fuming Anderson--1/4 of the classic Four Horsemen of NWA/WCW--then said he should pay him $1,000 on top of what he was already owed.

In spite of the money issues, the performers were determined to put on a show for the fans who came, even though they risked injury doing a job that wasn't going to pay anything.  Eubanks and Francisco Ciatso (another indie wrestler; pronounced KEE-aht-soh) did what they could to make the show happen, even after Greene repeatedly threw Eubanks under the bus for his own screw-ups, even despite the fact that some of the talent booked in the matches either left or never showed up, meaning Ciatso had to book a few matches on the fly.  Even then, things did not stop going wrong--the lights went out and the toilets backed up.

Ciatso summed up Greene as a mark who wanted to rub elbows with wrestlers of the past and set up this sham of an event just for that purpose.

On August 18, Greene was arrested in Virginia on multiple felony charges, including 23 counts of deposit account fraud, 15 counts of forgery, theft by deception, and making false statements.

As of this time, I do not know if Greene has already stood trial on these counts.

I've compiled a whole bunch of media related to the fiasco, mainly for you to peruse and enjoy, but also partly for me to refer back to at a later time.  Some of these go into a lot more detail about what happened.  Check 'em out.

The first of two podcasts Sean David Hubbard did on the subject:
The second of those two podcasts:
Del Wilkes speaking about what happened a day or two afterwards:
The Courier-Herald, a newspaper in Dublin, published a story about the event here:
Mallorie Bradley, the fiancĂ©e of "Dreamkiller" Eric Wayne (one of the independent wrestlers at the event), posted a couple videos showing herself and "Mr. Wonderful" Paul Orndorff confronting Greene.  Orndorff is the one in the blue shirt, guarding the door while Bradley chews him out:
Another video of Bradley and Orndorff confronting Greene, which I believe was originally recorded by Stormie Lee Sloane (another of the indie talent at the event):
A Gerweck Report podcast, featuring an interview with former Smackdown GM Theodore R. Long:
A Reddit thread on the subject:
Scott Hudson's account of the whole thing:
(Francisco Ciatso and Stormie Lee Sloane interview)

Monday, April 24, 2017

Volume 12, Number 1: Holocaust Remembrance Day

At some point in the mid- to late-1980s, my father gave me a small paperback book.  It was Victory--the fourth (and final) volume in The Eyewitness History of World War II, by Abraham Rothberg, which Bantam Books had originally published in the 1960s.  A little over halfway through this volume is a passage about the Shoah* that resonated with me the first time I read it, and it still does today.  I'd like to share it with you now, especially given the incredibly ignorant comments that White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer made less than two weeks ago.

On April 14, 1945, Allied troops advancing into Germany saw firsthand the horrors of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp.  Among those soldiers was R.W. Thompson, a captain in the British Army who would later become the war correspondent for the London Sunday Times.  The following are excerpts from what he wrote:
The blue smoke of many fires hangs thickly in the pine woods along the road from Winsen to Belsen.  In the clearings the young corn is green and all the loveliness of spring, of budding life, is in the air, and the smouldering grasses of the pine woods bring a wonderful tang to the nostrils so that you expand your chest and feel your youth still in you, and are glad to be alive.  Then suddenly a new tang creeps into the odours of burning.  It is the stench of death.  It is the stench from the great charnel-house our armies have overrun so that all mankind shall now--and this time neither to balk nor forget--the appalling crime Hitler and the Nazis have done against humanity, against the very basis of life and faith itself. ... 
I began the unforgettable walk that you must read about.  At first it was little worse than a kind of enormous hutted camp with here and there the wooden towers where the guards had watched.  The whole enormous area hidden in lovely pine woods divided into barbed-wire enclosures containing about thirty long huts to house, on military standards, less than fifty men.  Here the inmates, men, women and children, were new, but recently brought in.  For the first time for days there was water, and for the first time for weeks these people were washing themselves and their clothes.  The only odd thing was that here and there men and women were excreting--just casually anywhere. There is no sanitation in this hell in the woods. 
And now before my eyes was the slow destruction of human beings, stripped of all human dignity, forced down to the level of the beasts, and so to die in utter ruin.  This thing, this hell far beyond the dreams of Dante, holds some 60,000 souls--souls!  These are not souls, these tragic travesties of humanity that sit and rot in their own excrement, these things that were human once, reduced now to skeleton death by slow deliberate starvation, but first stripped of all remnants of human dignity so that in truth they are dead before they die.  By the barbed wire lie the dead, some bits of clothing, others naked men, women and children, almost unrecognizable as the remains of human kind, though they died but an hour since. ... 
They lie down and they die.  Now deep into the camp the dead lie in bundles, neat bundles, grotesque limbs in terrible positions.  Here is a small cart loaded with a dozen corpses, the faces like parchment tight against the skulls.  They are only just dead.  A brown stocking is limply around a leg that a small black garter less than 4 centimeters in diameter cannot clasp.  A shock of auburn hair crowns the dead face of this woman that stares sightless to the blue sky.  The normal world of life is receding.  Horror is not yet too deep for an individual to mean something.  This woman had a life, a purpose, was beloved of someone.  But now the dead are in hundreds, the dead, the living and the near-living.  The dead in small bundles of threes or fours under the shadow of the pines, the dying in attitudes of sleep by the roadside, some dying peacefully, some suddenly sitting up chattering.  Here a woman sits with eyes round in deep sockets, and a younger woman tries to quiet her babbling.  She is babbling like a grotesque travesty of a child.  If you did not know, she might be asking for a toy to play with, but she is asking for death. ... 
And so slowly the Chaplain takes me to the great burial ground where our soldiers are scooping pits with bulldozers to accommodate all this dead and putrefying human wreckage, deliberately, slowly, brought to pass by Adolf Hitler and the so-called Aryan** race.  Morning and night the heavy truck with its trailers brings its cargoes of bodies to the great pits.  Stand with me at this brink of this death pit.  It is my job, your job, the world's job.  It is about 30 feet deep, but you cannot see how deep because it is nearly filled now with human bodies, littered together in the embrace of death.  Here are girls, boys, men, women, naked, half-naked, upside down, sideways, all ways, some staring up to the sky, others with their heads buried in human remains.  So stare in silence and let this crime beyond expression sink in.  Across the sandy clearing is the incinerator, but it ran out of petrol.  A rough record by the chief burner of bodies records seventeen thousand burned last month.  They say each body was roughly clubbed as it went in, for there is so little difference between the dead and the near-dead.  There is no differences in the faces even. ... 
I found it difficult to speak to Germans at all.  I used to walk through crowds of them--civilians or prisoners--as though they weren't there, yet feeling a kind of flaming wall around me. ... 
I am now a complete idealist.  I have given up all the "isms."  I believe in the human spirit above all things, and that only by a change of heart can civilization be saved.  For although it is the Germans who have done this thing, it is not only the Germans who can do it.  Prisoners of Germans did it to other prisoners.  Mankind can do this thing to mankind.
We must pass what we learned about the Shoah down from one generation to the next because every new generation, each being more distanced by time from the terrible events by time than the one before it, is more susceptible to being lied to.  In particular, a man named Bradley R. Smith thought that my generation, a generation for which the vast majority of their parents were born well after the Second World War ended, would be vulnerable to lies (for example, he claimed that Allied bombings of railroads were to blame for the starvation of the prisoners).  Smith published his lies in a number of student newspapers in 1991, including a full-page ad in The Michigan Daily.
"I was taught that humans, all things being equal, would be humane to one another.  I didn't hear about the Shoah until I came to the United States.  And when I did, I was rocked to my roots, because it seemed to deny everything I thought I had known about us humans!"
Prof. Ralph Williams, 9/21/2016
*I used to refer to this event as the Holocaust, mainly because it was the most widely-used term growing up; however, as Prof. Williams pointed out last year, that term is also used in the Bible to describe burnt offerings.  He added that the person who first used that term regarding the persecution and murder of millions of Jews by the Nazis later regretted doing so.

**The original wording from Mr. Thompson was "Adolf Hitler and the German race."  I changed "German" to "so-called Aryan" because, while Germany as a country was the primary guilty party, not all Germans willingly participated in the Shoah; to the contrary, a number of German-born people resisted in any way they could, with the price often being their lives.

Monday, February 29, 2016

Volume 11, Number 4: My Thoughts on the YouTube Copyright Strike System

On February 26, after more than 3.5 years of being banned from YouTube for multiple copyright infringement violations, I finally got one of my three "copyright strikes" removed.¹  In short, I got my account back.

For those of you who remember those uncensored Kitchen Nightmares videos I used to post to that account, I have bad news: You will never see them again because they are a big reason why my channel got taken down in June 2012.  My copyright strikes were all based on legitimate complaints, each from a different copyright owner, and in each case, none of the content was my creation.  I apologize to all three owners (Viacom, NBA Properties and ITV Studios Inc.) for sharing content that was not mine to share.

I recognize that YouTube faces challenges on two fronts: It wants to be a major media platform, especially for new content creators, but at the same time, it has to fight against the piracy that plagued it during its early years.

With that said, the way YouTube addresses copyrighted material has room for improvement.  Earlier this month, Doug Walker (The Nostalgia Critic) discussed a number of shortcomings in the current copyright claim/strike system in his Where's The Fair Use video, along with Alex of I Hate Everything (IHE) and Adam Johnston of Your Movie Sucks. These three YouTubers have a combined total of 1.3 million subscribers.  The two biggest shortcomings are summarized below.  For your convenience, Doug's video is embedded right below them.
  • Lack of fairness.  At present, claimants making false copyright claims have far more power than defendants who have evidence supporting their claims of fair use (a legal doctrine that permits limited use of copyrighted material without acquiring permission from the rights holders).  Johnston pointed out that claimants can make unlimited claims while defendants are limited to no more than three appeals.  Walker added, "There are no penalties for companies creating false claims or strikes," and there should be.  (UPDATE 3-2-16: Yesterday, two other critics, Bobsheaux and TheMysteriousMrEnter, posted videos about takedowns; the latter stated that he cannot appeal the claimant's takedown request until after the video is taken down on March 8, at which point he will be given a strike, and that is also not fair, seeing as the claimant didn't have a waiting period.)
  • Lack of human interaction.  YouTube is relying more on automated processes in its fight against piracy.  This leads to a lot of videos automatically getting removed regardless of whether the claim is well-founded or not.  The recent rash of copyright-related takedowns may have been the result of changes to an "abuse algorithm" that went haywire and overstepped its bounds.  Compounding matters further, when creators try to appeal claims and strikes, they are often met with useless auto-reply e-mails.  Alex of IHE said, "The automated e-mails and forms seem designed in such a way that no human working at YouTube will ever actually see them. ... There was no one I could contact to fix a very, very simple problem."

I like two other suggestions Doug Walker made, starting at the 11:39 mark of his video:
  • The first is related to the ad revenue a video generates.  Right now, when a copyright claim is made, the claimant can take and keep that revenue--even if the claim is false.  Walker suggested that the money instead be put into an escrow account pending the resolution of any counterclaim (so that if the claim is not valid, the money would go back to the video's creator).
  • The second is having a grace period so that in the event that the user who posted the video has a counterclaim, they are not immediately penalized.
I'd like to add this gripe I have with the current system:
  • Lack of consistency.  Users who receive a second copyright strike are made to watch the YouTube Copyright School video, which takes more than 4.5 minutes to talk about how posting content you don't own is wrong.  At the 1:37 mark, the narrator says, "If YouTube receives a valid notification of alleged copyright infringement from a copyright holder for one of your videos, the video will be removed in accordance with the law."  Based on what's gone on recently, YouTube's automated processes are handing out claims and strikes without verifying the validity of the allegations behind them, and without taking Fair Use into consideration (as they should per the Lenz v. Universal ruling last year).  So what's going on now is not consistent with that Copyright School video statement (and the video itself needs to be updated anyway, since it was produced in 2011, more than four years before the Lenz v. Universal ruling).  Another inconsistency I find is that there are still plenty of unauthorized postings of entire movies and albums on YouTube, yet critical reviews and parodies seem more likely to get hit with claims or strikes (even though the latter examples fall within fair use and the former examples don't).
YouTube should receive this message loud and clear: Don't leave judgment calls to computers.  They wanted to make it easy to support new and independent creators while still keeping piracy at bay, but automated processes are not the be-all, end-all answer.  Software engineers need people to test programs for errors and give feedback on functionality, sporting events need officials to make sure the game is being played fairly and cleanly, manufacturers test products for safety and functionality--I could go on and on.  Point being, human intervention is still necessary.  YouTube needs people to review and judge allegations because its software, while efficient at identifying non-original content, haven't been all that effective in distinguishing piracy from fair use.

What YouTube doesn't need, as Walker noted in his video, is people who "see change as too hard or too much work, not willing to put in the effort to do what they know is right."  This reminds me what J.K. Rowling said in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire about the choice between what is right and what is easy.  Sometimes doing what's right isn't easy, but that doesn't excuse you from putting in the extra effort.  Above all, no one should ever place people's rights arbitrarily in the virtual hands of algorithms.

One more thing I'd like for YouTube to consider is giving harsher penalties for large amounts of infringing content (like a whole movie or album).  Most states in the United States assign varying amounts of points to driving violations (e.g. six for driving drunk, two for going 10 miles per hour or less over the speed limit).  Giving the same one-strike penalty to someone who posts a scene from an old TV show as to someone who posts a recently-released feature-length movie doesn't seem right.
In closing, I'd like to thank all the critics featured in the Where's The Fair Use video, especially Doug Walker and Alex, for fighting not only a good fight, but a very important one.

And to you, the reader, thank you for your time in considering the issues discussed in that video and here in this blog entry.

¹ In case you were wondering why it took me so long to get any of my strikes removed, here's what happened: In 2012, I had two strikes and was waiting on the second strike to expire when I got hit with strike #3, which led to my YouTube channel being shut down.  That put me in a catch-22--I needed to make a successful counterclaim against any of my three strikes just to get my YouTube account back, but I needed my YouTube account in order to access the counterclaim webform.  Recently, however, I learned that YouTube now allows you to make a counterclaim by using e-mail, as explained at this link.  This e-mail counterclaim method allowed me to bypass the run-around I had been getting in 2012, and I was able to get NBA Properties to remove my second copyright strike.  Thank you, NBA Properties, for your understanding and cooperation; and thank you, YouTube, for getting rid of that damn catch-22.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Volume 11, Number 3: To Infinity, and... Belleville?

Before I start this entry, a story about a job lead gone bad, I want to follow up on an earlier blog entry about the logo/uniform concept I submitted for Paul Lukas' Uni Watch Redesign The Rams contest.  It got published--well, part of it, but I'm still very happy about it.  Read more about it here.

I was thinking back to what I was going through nine years ago today.  I had been out of work for about three weeks, and my savings--already decimated from being out of work for five weeks the previous summer--had taken a big hit.  I was desperate for work.

Or, at least I thought I was desperate for work.

I responded to an ad on posted by a company called Infinity Marketing Group.  They said they were hiring for positions in marketing, business-to-business deliveries, and customer service.
  • Marketing, in the traditional sense of the word, has a number of different departments, one of which is research, and that's the kind of job I was looking for (which is why I responded to the ad in the first place).
  • As for business-to-business deliveries, maybe it meant delivering products for test marketing to focus group facilities--that didn't sound like a skilled position, so it didn't interest me.
  • Customer service was my second choice--I imagined that it might involve fielding calls from the business expecting deliveries.  Although it isn't the greatest kind of job in the world, it does require being organized, and once you've been working there for a while, having a good memory can help, too; above all, it would at least keep food on my table and gas in my car.
So I applied, and a few days later, went to their office in Roseville, Michigan, where I sat with a bunch of other people for a couple hours waiting for an interview.  The guy I interviewed with asked me if I was self-motivated, if I was a go-getter, and while these are terms you hear a lot in the sales world, they could be used in any line of work.  You have to be self-motivated in order to go to any job; you have to be a go-getter to do your job, I thought to myself, so I answered "yes" to those questions.  When I got home, they called me back to say they wanted me in for a second interview, plus they'd even pay for my lunch.  It sounded promising.

Or, at least I thought it sounded promising.

The next day, I put on my best suit and shoes, thinking that this was a bona fide interview for a bona fide job.  When I arrived at the office in Roseville, though, I found out what a load of bullcrap I had walked into.  A "manager" (Nick) and a "manager trainee" (Brandon) met with me and another man who had responded to the ad (Chris).  They asked us to help them load some stuff into the back of Brandon's old Chevy Blazer--crappy radio/calculator things I wouldn't even buy at a dollar store (similar to the one pictured here), fuzzy velvet coloring sets (kind of like this one), balloon animal kits, and Disney Pixar jigsaw puzzle books.  The Blazer itself seemed like it would not be long for the world, judging by the faded paint, the sound of the engine, and the fact that the headliner was sagging and was held in place only by pins.

I could have sworn Nick said we would be delivering stuff to businesses, but we didn't stop anywhere until we arrived in Belleville--more than 40 miles away from Roseville.  During the drive, Nick talked about the company--facts like how one of its biggest clients was The Walt Disney Company, or how one of the company's owners was also a part-owner of the NBA's Toronto Raptors.

When we arrived in Belleville, the first thing Brandon did was ask a pedestrian passing by, rather loudly, "Have you seen any of the new ones?"  That struck a nerve with me.  I was sure I heard something like that once, several years ago (I remember looking for a rummage sale in Canton or Wayne and had stopped to check the address), and it didn't make any sense--"new ones?"  How the hell would I know what he meant by that?  I certainly wouldn't know what the "old ones" were, that's for sure.  Back then, I just got in my car and drove away, feeling so annoyed that I made no further effort to find the address I was looking for.  Now, hearing Brandon ask that same question had me thinking that this situation was not what I had in mind.

Let's consider the types of jobs that Infinity claimed they were filling:
  • "Business-to-business deliveries," as it turned out, was a euphemism for, "We're going to barge into various places where people work and interrupt them and their customers and try to sell this crap to them."  That alone turned me off.  I had imagined it meant delivering stuff to business that they had already ordered; for example, delivering copies of a CD to a music store, or delivering knife sets to cooking stores or restaurants.  I was not looking for any kind of sales job, and I most certainly did not want to sell anything the way Brandon and Nick were doing it.  That is called street peddling, a form of sales I thought the Internet would render extinct (along with TV shopping networks).  With the Internet, people can decide what they want and how much they are willing to pay for it--that's how I prefer to sell stuff anytime I need to.  I would not expect someone to sell me crap while getting my hair cut, yet that's what I saw Nick do, selling those cheap calculator radios at 3 for $5 to people who had come to a local barber shop to get their hair cut.
  • Customer service?  I didn't see anything like it--rather the opposite.  At one point, I saw a piece fall out of one of the Disney Pixar puzzle books I was carrying, and I wanted to stop and find it and put it back.  Nick didn't like that; he said it would slow everyone down.  He said that not only did he not mind a piece being missing, but he could sell it like that, and furthermore, he even proceeded to throw one of his copies of the very same puzzle book into a nearby puddle and said that he could sell that as well.  He asked if I wanted to bet him that he couldn't.  I wisely did not--I would have lost.  He had just established himself as one of the thickest-skinned sons of bitches I had ever met, and his ability to communicate and sell was unquestionable.  He sold both the book with the missing puzzle piece and the one he threw in the puddle.  His idea of customer service evidently wasn't anything like my idea of customer service.
  • Marketing?  Only if you don't know the difference between marketing and street peddling.  In his sales speech, Nick would keep referring to "test marketing" that was being done for "one day only."  Here's why I would never call it test marketing: Proper test marketing is done at a research facility, not on the street (and especially not by interrupting people who are running errands).  Furthermore, in proper test marketing, the test subjects don't pay for anything--they may keep the item in exchange for completing a survey about it.  I tried explaining to Nick about what I had in mind--that marketing includes a few different types of jobs, like package design, advertisement design and research, and marketing research was what I was interested in--but either he didn't want to listen to what I had to say, or he didn't understand it to begin with.  Obviously, we were wasting each other's time.
I wanted to go home as soon as it was evident that this was not something I would want to do in a million years.  Problem is, as I said earlier, my car and I were 40 miles apart at this point.  Nick and Brandon weren't about to drive me back to Roseville, and they also didn't want to spend any more time with someone who was no longer interested in the miserable existence they called a job.  There were no buses, and a taxi would have cost me more than the money I had on me, so I had no choice but to "tough it out" by spending the rest of this obviously wasted day in the back seat of Brandon's beat-up old Blazer in Belleville.

At one point, I overheard Nick and Brandon bragging about making a killing on the cheap calculator radios.  So much for Disney being such a big client--maybe their definition of "one of our biggest clients" was how big the client itself was, not how much business they did with them.

The job posting was absolutely underhanded.  This so-called "job" wasn't even worth putting on a button-down shirt and Dockers, let alone my best suit and dress shoes.  Chris did help Nick and Brandon sell stuff, but only because he didn't want to be cheated out of a free lunch (whereas when I admitted before lunch that I did not want to do this, I ended up having to pay for my own lunch.  Towards the end of this wasted day, Chris asked me if anyone had ever told me what Infinity was really up to.  "N friggin' O," I said.  "N to the mother-friggin' O," Chris agreed.  He was the one who hit the nail on the head--this was not marketing, it was street peddling.  We also talked about how Infinity was set up as a pyramid scheme (in which people had to recruit other people to sell stuff, and those other people had to recruit still more people, similar to Vector and their Cutco knives).

When I got back home, after half a day walking through snow and mud carrying a bunch of crap and watching a thick-skinned man interrupt decent, mild-mannered people to sell it, and another half-day sitting in the back of a beat-up old SUV, I was tired as heck.  But above all, I was relieved that I was done with them.  Furthermore, I didn't get any mud on my suit or mess up my shoes.

It was back to the drawing board as far as searching for work was concerned--I had reached the point where I even resorted to applying for jobs in other states.  Fortunately, the opportunity for my current job presented itself less than two weeks later, and I haven't been out of work since.

Looking back, there were signs that I should have taken to mean "get out before you waste any more of your time":

  • Sitting in a room with 20 other people for a couple hours just to wait for an interview--that was something I had done once before, also with bad results (in 1992, when I was in college and looking for a summer job, and what sounded like educating people about the need for tougher recycling laws turned out to be door-to-door fundraising).
  • The questions about being self-motivated and a go-getter--I'll remember that these are signs that the company is looking for thick-skinned salesmen, and that's not me.
  • Ads that advertise for multiple types of positions--that's understandable for a chain of stores or restaurants that need people in multiple areas when they're opening a new location, but a marketing firm--a real marketing firm that understands words like "research" and "focus group" and "survey"--is more likely to advertise for one specific position. That is the one reason I should not have responded to that ad.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Volume 11, Number 2: Adventures in Doing the Laundry, Revisited

Today marks the tenth anniversary of that time I repaired my washing machine.  Here's the story.

I had a load of laundry to do, like I usually do every weekend.  That would have been no big deal, except that a few minutes after I turned on my 10-year-old Whirlpool washing machine, I heard this ticking (or clicking) noise.  I went back to the laundry room to find that the agitator stopped working.  Also, when it got to the spin cycle, it wouldn't spin, either, which meant that not only was my laundry still dirty, but it was soaking wet as well.

I called my mother about the problem.  She suggested that the ticking noise might be a transmission problem and that I might have to get a new washer (since getting a transmission replaced usually costs more than it's worth).

I was pissed off, because getting a new washing machine was not in my budget, which was tight at that time.  I was working a job that barely made ends meet, and I didn't have much money saved up.

Later on that day, I went to a couple different stores to search for a new washer.  I thought I got a very good deal at the second store for an Estate by Whirlpool washer for $297, including taxes and delivery, after a talk with the store's manager about wanting to find something with a dent on either side (since the way my laundry room is set up, any dents would be easily hidden by the dryer to the left and the washtub to the right).  According to the tag on the washer, its regular price was at $347.

Once I got back home, I went on the web to get some information on the washer I just ordered.  It didn't retail for anywhere near $347—according to Whirlpool's own web site, the MSRP was $279, so the deal I had wasn't the good deal I thought I was getting.  I wasn't saving $50--I was being overcharged by $18.

The idea that I might be getting ripped off gave me a newfound determination to see if that ticking sound was a transmission problem.  The store manager had mentioned during our conversation that he had black goo leaking from a washing machine he had 25 years previously, as the result of a transmission problem, so I checked under my broken washing machine to see if there was any black or gray goo--nothing there.  In retrospect, by telling that story, the salesman made a mistake that would work tremendously in my favor.

Another web search--something along the order of "Whirlpool washer making ticking noises"--revealed that I was too hasty in jumping to any conclusions about the transmission.  At least two sites said the problem was much simpler: a motor-to-transmission coupler.  It consists of two plastic parts and one rubber part, and is designed to break down so that neither the motor nor the transmission does.  Above all, replacing it would be much cheaper than buying a new washer.  Why I didn't do a web search like that _before_ going to any appliance stores, I'll never know.

I found a web site on how to replace that coupler, and armed with the pictures and instructions from that site, went back to the laundry room to take the washer apart.  I had nothing to lose, after all--the washing machine was broken and would stay that way unless I did something about it.  The process was much easier than I had expected--it didn't include any heavy lifting or disconnecting of hoses.  Before long, I found the culprit--a broken motor-to-transmission coupler.  I looked in amazement--I almost gave up on a washing machine over this over a small part like this?

I spent $20.70 on the replacement coupler I needed.  (I could have gotten it for less, except that I needed them urgently--I needed to find out if I could successfully install it so I could make a decision on whether to cancel the order for the new washing machine.)  A successful replacement job would save me over $276 ($296.99 saved by cancelling the new washer purchase, minus $20.70 for the replacement part order.  Until the new parts arrived, however, my washing machine was in a partially disassembled state, with parts scattered over half of my laundry room floor.

Those new parts came on Wednesday, so that night, I went about the business of removing the broken coupler and installing the new one.  It took me a while to everything back together (I had one part on backwards at one point, and later on, it took me three tries to put the exterior cabinet back on the machine), but after all that trial-and-error, I put in another load of laundry.  The very task of doing the laundry had taken on the feel of an amusement park ride: The building anticipation as the washer filled up with water was somewhat like that you feel on a roller coaster slowing climbing that first uphill grade.  Then the agitator kicked in--no ticking noises, no noises coming from the motor or the transmission sound just as good as they ever have, the agitator worked, and when it reached the first spin cycle, that was exhilarating.  Imagine the relief of finding a long-lost item and the excitement of a roller coaster ride--I experienced both at the same time.

20 years previously, at age 13, I would have simply said, "Let's just get a new one!" without giving any thought to fixing it or having any interest in how the old one worked.  It was easier back when I wasn't the one spending the big bucks.  But in 2006, I found myself doing the 180-degree opposite, doing what I could to keep the washing machine running and save money.

The washing machine repair was successful, and I cancelled the order for the new washing machine.

To this day, I still have and use that Whirlpool washing machine.  It is now over 20 years old.

Monday, January 25, 2016

Volume 11, Number 1: Fanfare for the Common Ram

For the first time in a few years, I'm participating in another of Uni Watch head honcho Paul Lukas' Redesign The... contests on Earlier this month, he invited Uni-Watch readers to submit new design concepts for the newly-relocated Los Angeles Rams (who recently left St. Louis after 21 seasons there).

Although the changes I've made are, I imagine, subtle compared to other designs submitted for this competition, they collectively make for a design that, in my estimation, stands out and can stand the test of time.  Here it is (click on the images to see them in their original size--you'll especially need to do this to see the uniform set in more detail).

The changes I made are as follows:

  1. Color scheme: "Millennium blue" stays, but "new century gold" is out (replaced by yellow). Why? The contrast between the navy blue and the yellow is striking (then again, I would know because my alma mater wears maize and blue). Also, yellow is the color of the sun, so it makes more sense in sunny southern California.
  2. The horns finally have ridges!  Rams' horns have ridges, and earlier LA Rams and Cleveland Rams logos had them as well. When Fred Gehrke painted those horns on the team's helmets in 1948, it would have been too much to ask him to also paint all those little ridges. But here in the 21st century, there are no excuses--we don't use paint, we use decals; furthermore, we have the technology to put ridges on those horns without making a lot of extra work.
  3. Back to the Futura (as in Futura Display). Between 1972 and 1982, the Rams' wordmarks used the Futura Display font. What's more, that font was popular in the 1940s, when the Rams moved to LA from Cleveland. Point being, it's a font you could say the Rams own.  Why not use it for uniform numbers and NOBs? I could understand them not using it three decades ago when almost everybody used block numerals (the Chicago Bears were the lone exception at that time). But times have changed in an era where teams try to look more distinctive.
  4. Tweaking the logo: I decided to make changes to the logo the Rams have been using since their 2000 redesign instead of a whole new one.  First, I changed the colors to match the navy blue/yellow color scheme (see #1 above).  It was after I did this that I noticed something odd.  At that point, the logo looked not so much like a ram as like a horse with no mane wearing a helmet with no facemask that had ram horns painted on it.  So I thought I'd play around with the logo some more, starting with rotating it the horn by -15 degrees. I made a few other minor tweaks as well to the ram's face and the back of its neck.  The final touch: Ridges on the horn, of course! The graphic under this list is meant to give you some idea of how my version of the logo "evolved" from the current version.
  5. Get that Nikelace outta here! In 2012, when Nike took over as the uniform maker for the NFL's teams, they introduced a new collar (officially called the Flywire collar, but hereafter referred to as "the Nikelace") that looked awful on teams whose jerseys have a different-colored collar. Five teams still use the "old" pre-2012 collars for that reason (Packers, Patriots, Falcons, Panthers, Eagles). The Rams should have followed their example. But instead, they went with the partially-colored Nikelace that some fans derisively call "the neck roll." I decided the old collar worked better.
  6. No outlining on the numerals. Although the Rams experimented with outlined numerals in the 1950s (they were among the first NFL teams to do so), and used outlined numerals in their current uni design (2000-present), they generally didn't use them during their first stint in LA, and they don't need to use them now. 
  7. No more white pants stripes.  They seemed out of place on the Color Rush unitards they wore against the Bucs, so I decided to go with one solid yellow stripe on the blue pants, and one solid blue stripe on the yellow pants.

You'll also see a "RETURN TO LA" commemorative patch in my submission. I did it because one of the contest's requirements was that you had to create one.  I'm cool with that, and I'm cool with what I slapped together--it's a take on the eponymous sign for the City of Beverly Hills (the extremely affluent LA suburb), but with the curlicues at the bottom replaced by ram's horns.

This is the first time I've submitted an entry in an Redesign The... contest since 2013 (Miami Dolphins).  I didn't submit entries for more recent contests (Vikings, Hornets, Clippers, Blazers) because I simply couldn't come up with anything that I thought would be significantly better than what than whatever they had at that time.

That's all for now.  Thanks for reading.