Category Archives: Freakin’ Idiots!

And Then It Was Wednesday

(Don’t worry, I’ll get back to posting travel pictures and silly crap here any day.)

Signs and portents everywhere. Or maybe I was just putting some serious anthropomorphizing moves on the universe.

First song up on the random playlist getting ready for work was Elton John’s “Funeral For A Friend.”

People seemed to be driving even more insanely than usual, and that bar is set pretty high in Los Angeles.

There were DOZENS of robocalls to my cell phone today. Instead of maybe one a week, all with fake caller ID’s from all over the country, these all came in from the local area code and were spoofed to look like they might be from the immediate area. I caught on after the first two (and fortunately answered one from the office during lunch that looked EXACTLY like the others) but I don’t believe the timing was a coincidence.

Everyone was in the dumps at work, except for the one new guy who’s apparently a big Drudge Report and Trumpencritter sort of dude. Someone finally made him go buy cookies for everyone since he was being so obnoxious. (They were very good cookies.)

Not knowing exactly what to do next, some folks were actually at least looking at websites about emigration to Canada, New Zealand, Mars, wherever. Others were talking about starting to drink heavily. Others said they just wanted to crawl into bed with an endless supply of ice cream and not be bothered for four years.

I went to the gym for the first time in forever. 30 minutes on the bike, 30 minutes of weights, 5 minutes rowing, 30 minutes on the treadmill.

When in doubt, do something really outrageous responsible, insane adult-like, and over the top mundane! That’s the way to stick it to the Man be boring as dishwater! George Carlin My mother and Abby Hoffman Sister Mary Thecla would be proud!

And now the neighborhood skunk has gotten spooked, apparently either in our yard or one of the yards next to ours.

I’m not crying because our country has taken a hard right turn towards a cliff, I’m crying because the room is full of biological pepper spray.

That’s my story, I’m sticking to it.

 

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Inconceivable!!!

“You keep using that word…”

I’m stunned. Numb. Trying to figure out how to make it right again because it obviously can’t be true.

I’m trying to remember when I’ve felt this helpless, depressed, and upset. 

When I got the call that my Dad had died without any warning? When my Mom passed away last year it was neither sudden or unexpected, but Dad’s heart attack came out of nowhere.

When we found out that The Long-Suffering Wife had cancer? That was scary as hell and changed our world, but we knew that they had caught it early and her odds were good.

When I got the call that my first wife, the kids’ mother, had died suddenly? Yeah, that was really bad, but I had to go into “Dad mode” and get things done, so there was a delay before I had the luxury of time to process it all. Of course, by that time there had been plenty of processing going in behind the scenes, whether I knew it or not.

When I was finally unemployed after 39 years of gainful employment? I was terrified of a very uncertain and frightening future, no doubt about it. But again, there was a surprise factor of zero-point-zero-zero, so “inconceivable” wasn’t a word in a lot of use at the time.

The “Challenger” explosion? “Columbia”? 9-11? Yeah, that’s more like it.

It’s going to take a while to process this. It’s down there in my life’s lowest points.

I very literally fear for the survival of our country, and not in some existential, far off day in the future. And that’s not even the worst case scenario I see.

What the hell have we done?

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Filed under Freakin' Idiots!, Moral Outrage, Politics

If They Didn’t Want My Opinion They Shouldn’t Have Asked For It

A site that I use on pretty much a daily basis took a format which has been quite functional for years and overnight has a new design.

Tasks that I normally can do blindfolded in two minutes tonight took ten times that long. Nothing is where it was and I have to go hunting. When I find “A”, then I have to go hunting again for “B” instead of just hitting that one button. If I hit the wrong button then I’m logged out and get to do the whole password thing to get in and start over again. And on, and on, and on…

Then they asked if I would like to comment on their new and improved and wonderful and spectacular redesign and tell them how much I enjoyed it and loved it more than chocolate covered sex!

I was going to just go off on them and show off the vocabulary that I no doubt picked up working the docks. But sometimes the brain gets a half twist while getting ready to slide in the rapier.

wells-fargo-survey

wells-fargo-survey-2

If nothing else, we’ll be able to tell whether or not this test is being graded by a bot (99.99999% probability) or if there’s some poor intern who has to go through them at sub-minimum wage. If it’s the latter, I hope these get printed out and put on a refrigerator in a tiny, squalid break room surrounded by a sea of cubicles that stretch to the horizons, the one shiny bit of glorious snark, floating like flotsam in a sea composed of outright abuse and sychophantic praise.

Or the bot will call Siri and say, “Is this that guy?”

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Reduced To This

Between the work, the “debate” (I’m not doing much political ranting here, but a quick look at my Twitter feed on the right side of the page should make it clear where I stand), a sore shoulder, and the worst night ever with the freakin’ nocturnal leg cramps (and zero vivid dreams as “reward”), I’ve been reduced to this:

What the hell were they thinking in the 80’s??

And there’s the connection. In the late 2040’s they’re going to look back at these debates and say, “What the hell were they thinking in the Twenty-Teens?!”

On the other hand, in the late 2040’s that hair will probably be back in style. We can only hope.

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Filed under Freakin' Idiots!, Health, Music, Video

I Still Hate PayPal

Last night I went off on a full blown, adrenaline fueled rant regarding PayPal. I apologize for subjecting you to that.

I was angry. I was exhausted. I was frustrated. I was at my wits’ end.

What I was not was wrong.

Today, four phone calls, over an hour of waiting on hold, and another ten points on my blood pressure, I’m praying that I might have gotten the problem resolved.

On the one hand there was “Rod” on my fourth call of the day, who gave me a number of pieces of information which were demonstrably false, apparently in an attempt to simply get me off the phone with him. Or it might have been me not understanding him correctly (it wasn’t) since my Hindi is only slightly worse than his English. But when he refused to even let me talk to his supervisor and then hung up on me after the third demand – that’ll earn “Rod” a special place in my book of pressed flowers.

On the other hand there was Robert (whose name I have changed to protect the one person at PayPal who might actually be functional), who actually spoke English and may have been able to actually solve the problem. At the end I apologized to Robert for losing my temper with him, and I’ll public state that apology again here.

The best part of the whole thing though is the final revelation from Robert as he was taking the restricted status off of our account. (That’s the restriction that was preventing our IT folks and website developers from accessing our PayPal account in order to link it to the new functions on our website which will let you book a seat in our PBJ bomber.) It’s a fitting cap to the entire sordid affair.

Robert told me that, while the threatening and badgering emails I have been getting make it sound like our account (and all of our money in it) were going to be locked and restricted and frozen and taken away from us if I failed to solve the problem, there was in fact only one restriction – we wouldn’t have been allowed to transfer money from our checking account into the PayPal account.

This is something we have never done and can’t anticipate ever doing. Ever.

So we could still sell rides and have the funds put into our account, I could still log onto the site and access those funds, I could transfer those funds out of PayPal and into our checking account as needed, I could send invoices, I could issue refunds – all of it. Every single function would be just fine, even if I had totally ignored all of these dunning emails and never responded. Except for that one function, uploading funds into the PayPal account instead of taking them out.

We’ll see tomorrow if our web designer can get access to the account.

 

 

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Filed under CAF, Freakin' Idiots!

I Hate PayPal

I’m starting to hate it with the fiery hatred fueled by a thousand white-hot suns.

We use it for our CAF SoCal site for fundraising. Months ago they started asking for ID to prove we’re who we say we are. I’ve sent them document after document. Then they started demanding my personal information, despite the fact that it’s not a personal account. I’ve been on the phone for hours over the last couple of months. It’s been like talking to a wall.

Fine. They’re now threatening to lock or cancel our account. I won’t penalize the CAF SoCal organization I volunteer for what I consider to be ludicrous and unreasonable demands that put my personal information in jeopardy and leave me open to identity theft.

So today I sent them my personal information.

I’ve now just gotten a new demand where their computer is giving me a new list of documents to provide, almost all of which do not and can not exist, in order to change the name on the corporate account to my personal name.

If I don’t, they’ll close the account.

  1. Does anyone know anyone at PayPal or any way of actually talking to a human with any shred of common sense?
  2. Does anyone have an alternative service to PayPal to recommend?
  3. Does anyone have any hope for our economy or our society if this is the kind of mindless stupidity that we’re all headed toward?

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Testing For Fundamental Job Skills

If you want to be a pilot, there’s a written test to pass and, more importantly, there’s the “practical test” (otherwise known as a “check ride”) to pass.

Other jobs have similar types of performance tests to pass for qualification or hiring.

Let’s talk about grocery store baggers, the folks who are there to put your groceries into your bags as you check out.

WHY ARE THEY NOT REQUIRED TO PASS A BASIC TETRIS® TEST?

It’s not rocket science or brain surgery, people!

Today for example. When I deliberately take the case of bottled water (or the sodas) and put them first onto the belt, that’s because I realize that: a) they’re heavy, and; b), they take up a lot of room. Anyone with any sort of brain or experience would want to put those on the bottom of the basket, or better yet, on the little shelf down by the wheels underneath the basket.

Right?? So why do they work so hard to find the position that maximizes the inefficiency and makes it hard for anything else to sit in the basket without falling over and/or smashing?

When I make a point to put all of the cold and frozen stuff next so that it can all be put in bags together to STAY cold and frozen even though it’s pushing 100°F outside, why do they split it up between four or five bags? Is there some kind of feng shui thing that indicates that logic and practical science are contraindicated?

More to the point, why do you put the eggs, fruit, and other fragile stuff underneath the heavy stuff?

Since none of this makes any sense, and it would be so easy to either test and/or train for the ability to perform these simple tasks in a fashion that doesn’t boggle the mind, I can only conclude that it’s being done deliberately by the grocery store worker’s union. Probably in collaboration with management, which is the ultimate irony given the long, bitter, scorched earth types of strikes that go on in California about every ten years.

Or I could take it personally and assume that they’re doing it just to piss me off while everyone else gets their groceries bagged in a logical and sane fashion.

Let’s not go there. Let’s just go with the observation that I’ve been watching and reading way too much news coverage of the US Presidential election and it’s affecting me adversely. If that shit won’t give you a brain tumor, I don’t know what will!

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In Which I Became Embarrassingly Pedantic With The Patient Young Woman At Tech Support

Despite my Catholic school upbringing (think Sister Mary Stigmata wailing away with that yardstick on Jake & Elwood) and my mother’s undying wish for me to still be Pope some day (despite the three kids, two marriages, and one divorce, but that’s a story for another day) I still have days when I’m less than saintly.

I have a well document penchant for baiting, harassing, and tormenting robodialing sales scammers. For the record, I have zero problems with that. They deserve every bit of badgering that I can give them. I don’t call them, they call me. They started it. (No, I’m not five, you’re five!)

I’m referring to how I sometimes lose my patience when dealing with innocent tech support folks. Sometimes it’s customer support, but it’s worse with tech support. With customer support I know that it’s quite likely that I’m the cause of the problem and I’m asking for help, or at best it’s a 50/50 thing. With tech support, I foolishly expect actual knowledgeable tech support rather than some kid reading a script by rote after they didn’t make it through the ITT Tech Trade School.

Last week I had a problem at work with one of the online services at a humongous American mega-bank. While I could log on, see my account balances and activity, make transfers, and so on, when I went to the Remote Check Deposit (RCD) system, it would crash every time. The error message from Hell in this case was something along the lines of, “Your current .NET Framework security settings do not allow this procedure.”

It had been working fine, even after we upgraded to Windows 10. That had been a critical test of Win10 since I use that banking function nearly daily. Then, soon after I got back from my New York City trip, it just didn’t work. I hadn’t changed anything, I hadn’t upgraded, I hadn’t changed any settings, I hadn’t deleted anything – it just stopped working.

So I called customer support, who put me through to tech support, who walked me through the fifteen steps I had already taken to try to resolve it, threw in a couple of new things for me to try, all to no avail. Same error message, over and over and over.

They said they would bring in the heavy-duty outside consultant tech guys the next morning – but never called back. I had to call back two days later and go through the whole mess again, only to be told that they would bring in the heavy-duty outside consultant tech guys the next morning. I said no, thank you, we’ve already done that joke and we will fix this tonight. We eventually did after we got some dude to remote into my system, do lightning fast editing of the registry, and make the magic happen.

Fast forward to last week, when it starts doing the exact same thing.

This time I’ve got what I believe to be a smoking gun. It’s all Microsoft’s fault. When I turned on my system that morning there had been a Windows 10 involuntary update. The first clue I had about the update was that Internet Explorer was gone from the task bar and gone from the Start Menu as well. I had to go hunt it down, create a new shortcut/icon, and put it back.

Yes, Internet Explorer. Have I mentioned that about 99% of all of the super duper secure banking things out there require you to use IE?

So Microsoft tried to assassinate my copy of IE, or at least send it off to Devil’s Island to rot, but when I found it and fired it up anyway it has also stopped working.

Coincidence? Are you freakin’ kidding me?

I tried to fix it myself, of course. I had taken notes the first time, as well as taken a video of the “magic” happening onscreen. (I’ll bet you Steve Jobs never foresaw that use of the iPhone when he dreamed it up!) I was pretty sure that I could reproduce what they had done three weeks ago. And I did.

No joy. “Your current .NET Framework security settings…” Once again back to MegaBank Customer Service.

Megan was a vision of patience. She either listened or did a good job of faking it while I went through the whole series of troubleshooting steps I had already taken. Then she started by asking me if the computer and the check scanner were both plugged in.

**SIGH** Okay, let’s do it the hard way. Yes, it’s plugged in. Yes, I checked the cables. Yes, I had tried turning it off and turning it back on again. Yes, we can spend fifteen minutes going through all of the setup steps from the manual one more time. Then…

“Are you using Internet Explorer?” (Megan, if I wasn’t, how could I have just gone through about twenty different setting confirmations for you? Don’t you, or the people who wrote this idiotic script, realize that all of the different browsers all have completely different methods of changing the settings?)

“Yes, Megan, I am using Internet Explorer.”

“Are you sure? There might be two icons that look like big blue letter E’s. Make sure you’re not using the darker blue one. It has to be the light blue one with the yellow swoosh around it.”

I swear to god, I’m not a good enough writer to make this shit up. Megan had stunned me into silence as I tried desperately to formulate an answer that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete douchebag.

“Hello, Mister Willett? Are you still there?”

“Yes, Megan, I’m here. Going forward, can we assume that I was LITERALLY building computers from scratch and programming them before you were born, and thus I’m GUARANTEED to know the difference between Internet Explorer and Edge?

I’m not proud that I went there. On the other hand, if I hadn’t, my head would have exploded like some poor bystander in a David Croneberg film.

Megan didn’t seem to take it personally, although I suspect she went home and told her significant other, “You would not believe the sanctimonious old codger asshole I had to deal with today!”

Fair enough.

But she started it!

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Still Being Spoofed

First of all, if you get an email from me that starts out with something like, “You’re not going to believe what I found!” with a link to click – don’t be a freakin’ idiot and click on it. It’s spam, it’s full of viruses, and it’s not from me!

This is true much more universally, of course. It’s not just emails from me but from anyone you might know or any company that you might deal with. It’s not just now when I’m still fighting the lingering remnants of a household computer virus infection back in April. A little bit of common sense will go a long way here.

While my email and other online accounts have been re-secured and seem to be free of malware (I’m now paranoid and obsessed about checking) it seems that the basic email address has gotten added to a list of addresses used by some spambot network. This leads to spoofed emails, where the “from” address is faked to show my information. Even if the email isn’t sent to someone that I know (the worst of that seems to have passed), when the email gets recognized as spam and bounced back to the sender, the internet thinks that I’m the sender.

I always know when this happens. In the course of two or three minutes, the spambot (which is controlling an infected computer in some other random part of the world) sprays out virus-filled spam. Some of it might get through I guess, but most of it bounces back to me and ends up automatically going into my spam or junk mailbox.

Sometimes the spambot network goes for days and weeks without any activity using my email address and I always just about get myself lulled into a sense of security, hoping that it might have finally stopped. Then it starts up again and I might get three or four “bursts” of email spam kicked back to me in a day.

It really, really pisses me off.

I’ve searched high and low but it doesn’t seem that there’s any good way to stop this. One could, in theory, start examining the header information on every single one of these emails and try to trace back to where they really come from. One could, in theory, then contact that ISP, wherever it might be (Turkey and “the Stans” seem to be extremely uncommon) and ask them to block that account. They won’t, and by the time you do their work for them and give them the information, that burst will have stopped on its own anyway.

The only two decent pieces of advice I’ve seen regarding this are:

  1. Close that email address and open another one. That’s not going to happen in this case – I have WAAAAAAY too many things that go to that account. Switching everything over would be a full-time job and a logistical nightmare. Plus, it’s a really old domain name with a touch of geek street cred to it, so there’s no way I’m letting that go if I can help it.
  2. You can create a set of filters to identify the bounced messages and simply delete them without ever letting them show up in your mailbox. This doesn’t solve the problem, it just is a way to digitally bury your head in the sand, put your fingers in your ears, hum really loud (“Stars & Stripes Forever” is especially good for this), and ignore the problem.

To a certain extent this reminds me of our “solution” to the deluge of phone telemarketers and robocallers. We cancelled our land line, simply turned it off. They can robocall until they’re blue in the face for all I care. There’s no there there for the phone to ring in.

So I give up on doing the “right” thing of trying to stop the spoofing. It’s being done completely out of my control or my ability to hope to control and I can’t be responsible for all of the frustrations and evil in the world.

Tonight I started setting up filters in Gmail to simply send these messages into the twilight zone before they ever get to my inbox or spam bin.

You can’t always get what you wanted, but…

 

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A Whiff Of Testosterone

The local private (expensive) high school is back in session. There’s something going on there tonight.

I was watching the young bucks, cruising the mostly empty streets in their daddies’ high priced, high powered cars, desperately overcompensating for whatever shortcoming it is they’re overcompensating for.

They roar down the long, straight street, burning rubber, sailing through the stop sign at about 50 mph. Once past, they slam on the brakes to skid to a halt, practicing their bootlegger turns, then roaring back to do doughnuts in the intersection, before finally burning rubber back the way they came.

Alcohol is almost certainly involved.

After the first three or four do it some of the wonder leaks away as a spectator and I’m left to simply speculate on which one is going to pick off a cinder block wall with Daddy’s BMW and which one is going to be the moron left holding the bag and doing doughnuts when the cops show up.

But my favorite of them all tonight, the one that’s got my vote as “Most Likely To Be A Darwin Award Winner,” is the dude who did all of this in Daddy’s Jaguar – with the left turn light blinking the whole time. There’s a certain bizarre nature to someone who’s that ignorant, distracted, and oblivious to the turn signal being on as they drive mile after mile without even thinking of turning. (“What’s that clickin’ noise?”) To see someone that lacking in situational awareness then go out and actively try to wrap himself and his friends around a tree at high speed?

It’s not a thing of beauty, nor is it all that rare in these parts, but it is a thing that makes you think some discouraging thoughts about the future of our society.

Click-click. Click-click. Click-click.

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