$875,000 from the U.N.? Where do I sign?

Thanks to my good friends at the United Nations (funny, I didn’t know I had any good friends at the United Nations), all my financial troubles are history, and I no longer have to look for a job.

The source of my $875,000 ... thank you, United Nations!

I only wish that were true. The truth is that I received another gem of a spam e-mail today and just felt compelled to rip it apart, so here goes:

Subject: FROM THE UNITED NATIONS

Yeah, right.

From: mailto@un.org

Seriously, you couldn’t come up with a better e-mail address than that? I mean, for the love of God, make up a name, you lazy sack of shit. This e-mail is supposedly from Dr. Henry Keller. Would it have been that much of a strain on your time to make the address hkeller@un.org? If there’s one thing worse than a thief, it’s a lazy, unmotivated thief. You should turn in your thief card, slacker.

As we arrive to the end of the year, the United Nations Development Commission has tabulated it’s index for the fiscal year and has issued out to you a Compensation International Cashable Bank Check with the sum of $875,000.00 USD (Eight Hundred and Seventy Five Thousand United States Dollars) which is a compensation and also your email was gotten from partner sites during an online random email ballot.

Arrive to the end of the year? What fucking language is this? Tabulated it’s index? My seven-year-old soon-to-be nephew has better grammatical skills than you do. And about your explanation for why I’m supposedly receiving $875,000: Huh? What in God’s name are you talking about? A compensation for what? And since when does the United Nations hold online random e-mail ballots to give away cash? Oh, yeah, and nice run-on sentence, too. You could have at least made up one of those Nigerian transaction stories, but I guess you were too fucking lazy to do that, too. Anyone who falls for an e-mail telling them they’re getting $875,000 (or any amount of money, for that matter) for no reason whatsoever is an utter and complete moron (but probably still smarter than whoever was responsible for this e-mail).

The Check has been deposited with FEDEX COURIER SERVICE, NIGERIA. All you need now is to contact FEDEX COURIER SERVICE as soon as possible so they can deliver your package to you immediately. The shipping charge has been paid for.

Somehow, I knew Nigeria was involved. That poor country gets such a bad rep from being used in 90% of e-mail scams. If I were Nigerian, I’d be royally pissed.

The only money you will send to the FEDEX COURIER SERVICE to deliver your Check direct to your delivery Address in your country is $150.00 USD Dollars only being for Insurance Coverage Fee. Again, you are not to pay any other money except $150.

Hey, jackass, you just said shipping was paid for. If you were generous enough to pick up the shipping, would it have killed you to take care of the insurance, too? I mean, what kind of gift is this? Didn’t your parents teach you manners?

The organization would have paid for that but they declined because they don’t know when you will contact them in case of demurrage charges.

Oh, I see: That explains everything. Moron.

You have to contact Mr. Donald Blake of FEDEX COURIER SERVICES now for the delivery of your Draft with this information below:

Contact Person: Mr. Donald Blake

Email Address: donald.fedex@gala.net

You really suck at making up e-mail addresses, if no one has bothered to inform you of that yet.

Finally, make sure that you reconfirm the details below so that your check would be shipped over to you immediately:

1. FULL NAME

2. DELIVERY ADDRESS

3. DIRECT TELEPHONE NUMBER

4. PRESENT OCCUPATION

Well, since you’re giving me $875,000 for no reason whatsoever, my present occupation is sitting on my fat ass on my couch and sipping fine scotch while I watch my brand-new flat-screen and instruct the help on the proper way to buff my Lexus.

Send all these details to them again to avoid any mistakes on the Delivery and ask them to give you the tracking number to enable you track your package over there and know when it will get to your address.

I’m on it, jerky!

Let me repeat again, try to contact them as soon as you receive this mail to avoid any further delay and remember to pay only the Insurance Coverage Fee of $150.00 US Dollars for their immediate dispatch. You should also get back me as soon as you receive your check.

I said I’m on it, you impatient bastard!

Yours Faithfully,

DR. HENRY KELLER

UNITED NATIONS DEVELOPMENT COMMISSION

I know doctors aren’t paid to write, but you are bordering on illiteracy. And if anyone actually does fall for this, please forward me their e-mail address so I can either scam them out of some more money (if you left anything behind) or just beat the shit out of them for being a fool.

Dunkin Donuts tuna sandwich: Who thought this was a good idea?

Dunkin Donuts came out with a foul-looking tuna sandwich in early November and, at least around Hoboken, the company has been promoting the hell out of it. It seems like two-thirds of the billboards on roads around Hoboken are advertisements for this vulgar creation. And I don’t understand it for the life of me.

A disclaimer: I hate tuna. I like tuna steaks and sushi tuna, but canned tuna never did it for me. Yum yum Bumble Bee, Bumble Bee Tuna? My ass. And even though Jessica Simpson may be one of the biggest dimwits on the planet, and she thought Chicken of the Sea was actually chicken, and not tuna, she and I are in agreement about not having any desire to eat it.

So why is Dunkin Donuts running ads everywhere with a picture that makes its tuna look just as bad as canned tuna, if not worse? News flash: The food is supposed to look better in the ad, not worse. If someone ever served me a Big Mac or a Whopper that looked like the ones in the respective ads from McDonald’s and Burger King, I might pass out from happiness. Yet Dunkin Donuts is using this picture that doesn’t look the least bit appetizing, and I don’t understand it.

I’m guessing that Dunkin Donuts is trying to make inroads into lunch and not being knows only for breakfast, but tuna? And foul-looking tuna, at that?

I keep waiting for this monstrosity to disappear, but it’s still around. Let me get this straight: Dunkin Donuts offers delicious, fantastic pumpkin iced coffee for a limited time only (it was pulled on Thanksgiving Day), but cat food on a bagel will be around forever? Why?

Unemployment Nine: I need a career GPS

Since being laid off last October, I have often lamented hearing about more layoffs at my old company or reductions at any other media company, mainly because it increases the competition I will have to beat out for whatever job I eventually land. It’s obviously much easier to outshine 50 people than 500.

Dazed and Confused

But the news a couple of weeks ago that The Associated Press was trimming its staff probably rocked me harder than any other layoff-related news besides my own.

I mean, honestly, this is the AP we’re talking about. Every single newspaper and news-related Web site uses the AP. It is absolutely impossible to think of running any kind of news organization without content from AP. AP can’t disappear, can it?

I’ll bet many people thought the same about Bear Stearns.

While I don’t really think AP will ever vanish, the idea of layoffs striking at the heart of the media, and the thought of having to compete against people who can include AP on their résumés, made me seriously think for the first time about changing careers, at least temporarily.

I know people who have done it successfully. I have a cousin who went to college for public relations, ended up managing a bar for years and has now transitioned to selling tools. And a close friend who was an architecture major ended up being a real estate broker before going into hospitality management. They may not be in their ideal, dream careers, but they’re in stable jobs and making money, which is all you can ask for these days.

Sadly, all of the serious thought has resulted in a big, fat zero. I have no concept, clue or theory what I would do if I moved away from writing and editing.

I wrote about the idea of becoming a teacher in February. I love and respect teachers and will never say a bad word about them. For that reason, I’d never become one. I would be an absolutely, positively horrible teacher. I dread speaking in front of any kind of crowd, even if the crowd is a bunch of snot-nosed second-graders. I cannot remember people’s names to save my life. And I am putrid at explaining how to do things.

Another suggestion I’ve heard from quite a few people, especially considering what time of year we’re in, is retail. Retail may be the one job I’m more ill-suited toward than teaching. I don’t like dealing with people. I have zero patience for stupidity. And while I have a very calm temper, it explodes if I get yelled at, and Lord knows a lot of yelling goes on in stores during the holiday shopping season.

Anything sales-related is pretty much out for me. Not only do I feel uncomfortable approaching people I don’t know, but I flat-out suck at negotiating. Some people have the knack for bargaining and some don’t. I am awful at doing it.

I’m not afraid of change: I just don’t want to do something that I know I won’t be good at. I’ve always been more of a background person – the editor, rather than the scoop-seeking reporter. I’ve done interviews, but I’m not very good at them, and I am the world champion of thinking of the question I should have asked minutes after I hang up the phone or leave the room. I’m far from shy with people I know, but I don’t do so well with people I don’t know and, at age 41, I doubt that skill will suddenly flourish.

Yet another suggestion I’ve heard is the Census Bureau. My Aunt Rose has worked with them in the past, and it’s steady work that doesn’t pay too badly. But Aunt Rose is the type who has no qualms whatsoever about marching up to a door, knocking on it and barking questions at the occupants. I, on the other hand, just can’t see myself doing that.

People have even suggested bartending. I love bartenders, but that’s another job that I’d be brutal at doing. Aside from the fact that bartenders have to be good with strangers if they want something besides dust and bottle caps in their tip jars, I have an absolutely God-awful memory, both when it comes to remembering drink orders and when it comes to remembering drink ingredients. I would make an atrocious bartender. Besides, you need a license to bartend in New Jersey, and I don’t really have the time or money to take the classes for something I hope to never use.

I’m really lost as to what career path to explore if I stray away from journalism. I’m very good with computers, but anything IT-related these days is all about network administration, which I know very little about. I love baseball and have been checking the job boards on Web sites of area minor-league teams, but they’re mainly focused on hiring interns, and I don’t think I’m in a position to be an intern at the age of 41.

I’m just a bit rattled right now, mostly due to the news of AP cutting back, which pretty much rocks the foundation of the journalism and media world. I really don’t know what my next move will be, although I hope the events of the past few days eventually provide some clarity.

Being unemployed truly sucks.

Unemployment Nine: An eventful couple of days

The emotional roller-coaster of being unemployed moved up a level in class over the past couple of days, transforming from the typical, run-of-the-mill ride at an average amusement park like Rye Playland to Kingda Ka at Six Flags Great Adventure.

First, I received a Facebook message from a former co-worker, who asked if I’d be interested in a free-lance copy-editing job. Since my two part-time gigs have only been bringing in about one-half of what I was making before my layoff, turning down an opportunity to do something I excel at would be foolhardy.

CONFUSED

After an extended bout of phone tag during the holiday weekend, my former co-worker’s boss and I were finally able to speak late Sunday, and I took the job. It required copy-editing what I thought was a 130-page project. However, I forgot how long it takes Microsoft Word to paginate long documents. The project was actually 240 pages, and it took me far longer than I ever anticipated, but I think I did a solid job cleaning it up and I hope it leads to more work.

I saved the bulk of the free-lance job for Monday evening so I could attend to my two steady part-time jobs during the day. I was just getting into my morning groove when the phone rang and it was my boss from the second of my two part-time jobs, calling to deliver some curious news. After I started my part-time gig with that company, another person was brought on to work full-time at the same site. He had been working for another site the company owned, but that site was sold. The deal officially went through yesterday, and this person was let go, which I didn’t expect.

Part-time blogging has been a strange transition. I worked with this person for a few months, yet met him only once and really didn’t even communicate too much with him via e-mail, except to make sure we weren’t working on the same stories and crossing our wires. We co-existed well and his work was pretty damn good. I certainly don’t have a bad thing to say about him.

I didn’t know what to think. Was this good for me, because with me being the only person working on the site, the company would have to keep me on board? Or was this bad because the cost-cutting ax is being swung again? This is all so confusing, and it’s even harder to decipher while working in isolation at home and not being able to read the vibe of the office.

While trying to digest the news, I still had two Web sites to work on, so I put it into the back of my mind and attacked my usual daily work. I found it somewhat curious that I didn’t receive a single e-mail from the first part-time gig all day, but I assumed my co-workers were out of the office and covering an event.

Suddenly, the phone rang just before 5 p.m. and, since the folks from my first part-time gig rarely call, if ever, when I saw the company’s name on my caller ID, I got that intuitive feeling that no good could possibly come from this phone call. Unfortunately, I was right. Someone much younger, at a much lower price, replaced me on a full-time basis. I can’t say I blame them. It was a smart move on their part. But it still sucks on a number of levels. Obviously, losing that steady stream of income will hurt. And I legitimately enjoyed the work I was doing. But it’s simple logic: When you can have a full-time employee for only a trifle more than you were paying a part-time employee, you make the move.

With the free-lance job I had just accepted looming, I didn’t have much time to feel sorry for myself. Partially thanks to my miscalculation on the number of pages (thanks, Bill Gates) and partly because of the time it took to get used to the style of writing I was dealing with, I worked until 2:30 a.m., then set my alarm for 6:45 a.m. to give the project one last spell-check and quick glance before sending it back. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I hope they were satisfied, because I’d be more than happy to tackle a few more of these projects. And now that I have a feel for how to attack the work load, I won’t need to pull any more college-style all-nighters.

After a shower and a Dunkin Donuts run (damn them for not carrying my pumpkin iced coffee after Thanksgiving), I settled in at my PC this morning to attend to my one remaining job. While hunting for stories, I discovered that my old company sold three publications, including the two I worked for, to another publishing company that I had never heard of (although I am familiar with one of its magazines). I don’t know what to think about this move, either. Escaping the inept management at my old company has to be seen as a plus. But I know nothing about the new company, so for all I know, they could be going out of the frying pan and into the fire.

I’m very concerned that more of my former co-workers will face layoffs, although I honestly don’t know how many more people they can cut and still hope to produce anything resembling a magazine and Web site. On the other hand, the people I clashed with near the end of my tenure at my old company occupy the type of senior-level posts that tend to be eliminated when a publication or group of publications is acquired. I’m not cruel enough to wish unemployment on anyone, but if it happens to one or both of the two people who I feel were directly or indirectly responsible for my current situation, I wouldn’t exactly shed a tear.

Later Tuesday afternoon, while juggling the tasks of doing my work and deciphering all of the news of the past couple of days, I received an e-mail from yet another former co-worker, who mentioned that a former co-worker of hers might have a job opening doing exactly what I did at my previous full-time job. Before I could even take a break from work to prepare a quick introductory e-mail, the former co-worker’s former co-worker’s boss (yes, I’m confused, too!) e-mailed me, asking if he could “pick my brain” for suitable candidates.

I thought to myself, “Suitable candidates? The most suitable candidate is yours truly,” and I responded with an e-mail to that effect, stating why I thought I’d be perfect for the job and attaching my résumé. Since tomorrow is the 14-month anniversary of my layoff, I’m not exactly doing cartwheels around the house, and I know better than to get too excited about anything, but I’m hopeful.

Things are picking up. I don’t know whether the end result of the past few days will be good or bad, but it certainly hasn’t been boring. For the love of God, someone please hire me and pull me out of this misery!

People are morons

I just captured this screen grab from my Facebook home page:

Misuse of the Facebook Like button, blatant stupidity, or depravity?

Four people were shot and killed, and people LIKE this? And not just one or two, but 28? What is wrong with people?

Either Facebook users are so ignorant that they just click “Like” for everything, or there are some seriously depraved people in this country. Or both. In any event, this is truly disturbing.

My idea for a reality TV show

I’m writing this on the day after Thanksgiving, on a day when I have adopted the lifestyle of my cats and barely moved. My fiancée and I are recovering from a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner at her sister’s house in South Philadelphia with her immediate family, a few friends and my Aunt Rose.

Since our engagement, a reality show on TLC, Say Yes to the Dress, has become a staple on our television, through no choice of my own. In all fairness, she has put up with a healthy diet of sports, so what’s fair is fair. At least we agree on Cake Boss.

Bridezilla

I don’t know which surprises me more: The jaw-dropping price tags attached to just about every single item associated with weddings, or the piles of money brides-to-be and their families are willing to shell out for things that will be used once. Example: a veil, which is barely one square yard of fabric that will be worn for less than one hour, costs $600. Are you serious?

My proposed reality show is an answer to Say Yes to the Dress, but it’s only directed at the spoiled-brat-type brides found on another reality TV disaster, WE tv’s Bridezillas.

In my reality show, the worst, bitchy, spoiled, high-maintenance, demanding brides-to-be will shop at a high-end bridal salon modeled after the establishment behind Say Yes to the Dress, Kleinfeld Bridal. Rather than trying to establish some base of reason, their family and friends, along with the staff of the store, will cater to their every whim and let them think they’re getting everything they want.

Then, just when the princess thinks she’s completely gotten her way, the star of the show emerges. I have two people in mind: Chris Rock, or Damon Wayans in character as Homey D. Clown from classic 1990s Fox comedy-sketch series In Living Color. The star then proceeds to berate the princess, while the audience (myself in particular) cackles themselves into a frenzy.

Example: “$15,000 for a DRESS? Does it have WHEELS? Are you out your MIND? And you gonna spend $600 on a veil to cover yo grill when that could feed an entire grade at the school down the block? What in the HELL is wrong with you? What part of BUDGET don’t you understand? You must be OUT yo GOD-DAMNED MIND!”

The name of my reality pilot (drum roll please …): Say No to the Ho. I have to go now. Pitching this to the cable networks will take time.

My senior cat

I took 8-Ball to the vet last week for her annual shots, blood work and a much-needed haircut. The vet ran a few more tests than usual, after informing me that 8-Ball is now a “senior cat.”

8-Ball shortly after adoption

Senior cat? 8-Ball? Wow. She’s no different than she was when my old roommate brought her home around four years ago. 8-Ball rarely moves, and there have been times when people have poked her to make sure she’s still alive because she has spent hours in the same spot. Needless to say, she’s not the most active animal.

According to the hospital records, 8-Ball was born in March 2001, meaning that she will be nine years old in March. But who knows how accurate that date is, since I was told when we first adopted her that she was found in the hallway of an apartment building in Jersey City.

8-Ball now

My little ball of fur weighed in at 17 pounds and four ounces, so she is now off the weight-management food I’d been giving her and Trouble and on weight-loss food. Forgive me for being skeptical, but when the vet said 8-Ball would weigh 12 pounds the next time I brought her in for a checkup, I asked if that meant she was getting her legs cut off.

 

Still, while hearing the term “senior cat” rattled me a little bit, I’m not too concerned about 8-Ball. As I said, she is pretty much the same cat who arrived here about four years ago, give or take a surprise pile of cat droppings in the bathtub. She is still the sweetest, most affectionate cat of the three we have here, and she still wakes me up every morning, like clockwork, at 6:40, because she wants breakfast. She still wants no part of Skittles, the newest cat in our household, making noises straight out of the Gremlins movie, hissing and baring her teeth whenever the poor guy wants to play.

I know it’s not uncommon for cats to live past the age of 15, so I hope my senior cat and I have a lot more time left together, cold snouts in the ear at 6:40 a.m. and all. 8-Ball is a great cat.

Can someone please wake the Dallas Cowboys’ coaching staff up during games?

I am always bitter and angry after any loss by the Dallas Cowboys, but some of them get to me far more than others, and this past Sunday’s debacle at Green Bay really struck a nerve.

Wade Phillips at halftime

This isn’t sour grapes: The Packers are a good football team, and they were fighting for their playoff lives. They outplayed the Cowboys on the line of scrimmage on both sides of the ball and deserved the victory. Hell, they even deserved the shutout they had until the Cowboys scored a meaningless touchdown with under one minute left.

The reasons why I’m so ticked are basically a horrible game plan and a complete lack of halftime adjustments, which, as poorly as the players executed, falls squarely on the coaching staff.

I am not comparing Marion Barber III, Felix Jones and Tashard Choice to Jim Brown, Gale Sayers and Emmitt Smith. However, they are three solid NFL running backs. Why did the Cowboys only run the ball 14 times?

The score at halftime was 3-0, not 30-0, yet the Cowboys completely abandoned the run. Even worse, Green Bay had constant pressure on Tony Romo after tackle Marc Colombo left the game with a broken leg, yet it seemed like all the Cowboys were trying to do was throw the ball downfield. When an opponent is as successful at creating pressure as the Packers were Sunday, wouldn’t the smart thing be to run the football and run quick-developing pass plays or screens to counter the pass rush? Yet the Cowboys offense tried to duplicate the Al Davis Raiders and throw deep on every play. Perhaps James Jett would like to come out of retirement?

And don’t even get me started on Roy Williams. If you want the ball so badly, why not try catching it and holding onto it, instead of fumbling away momentum and dropping passes in your hands?

Green Bay defensive coordinator Dom Capers, who knows a hell of a lot more about football than I do, said the same things I just said: “The game became one-dimensional. You can just go out and blitz, but if people are going to run the ball for big yardage on you, you’re foolish.” Actually, what was foolish was abandoning the run.

The quote from super genius head coach Wade Phillips: “We’d like to be more balanced, certainly. We had 218 yards rushing against them last year.” If I’m not mistaken, as head coach, your job is to point this out during the game, and not the day after the game. On Felix Jones: “We need to feature him more. The delays out of the backfield, we’ve seen him have big plays on and then the running game. But it didn’t work that way in this game.” Why not? Again, isn’t that your job?

The Cowboys got outplayed. It happens. That’s life in the National Football League — on any given Sunday. But the coaching staff also did nothing to put the players in a better position to win the game, and there’s no excuse for that.

Does anyone still think Jason Garrett is an offensive genius?

The Brooklyn Nyets

It looks like I’m not the only one who thinks the Nets should move to the Prudential Center in Newark:

The 2009 World Series: Bringing the Bronx to Key West

Although I wouldn’t change a thing if I had the whole experience to do over again, not being in Yankee Stadium to see the Yankees win their 27th World Series title, and being 1,200 miles away instead, was a truly bizarre event.

At game one of the 2009 World Series with my fiancée

Let me explain: Anyone who has met me for six seconds or read this blog more than once knows I’m a die-hard Yankees fan. I had partial season tickets in Box 611 in the old Yankee Stadium since 1997, specifically for the purpose of being able to go to postseason games. It takes a very significant event to get me to miss any postseason game, much less the final game of a World Series.

And I was fortunate enough to be in Key West for a very significant event, which, as I already said, I wouldn’t change at all. One of my closest friends got married, and she found an absolutely fantastic guy. Not being there was never a consideration.

Something similar happened to me a couple of years ago, when I missed the Cowboys-Giants game, also for the wedding of another very close friend. I wasn’t the least bit upset with either friend in either case. In the case of the football game, it was just bad scheduling luck. In the case of the World Series, it was just pure stupidity on the part of Major League Baseball. The World Series should not extend into November, and the fact that a potential game seven would have been played Nov. 5 is a sad joke. I never gave the World Series a thought when making the travel plans. November is NOT baseball season.

A stop at the greatest breakfast place on Earth on the way down to Key West

So I ended up watching games three through six all over the place, after attending games one and two at Yankee Stadium.

I watched game three at my fiancée’s father’s house in Boynton Beach with three Phillies fans: my fiancée, her father and her stepmom. I actually like the Phillies, so this wasn’t an issue, with just a little good-natured ribbing going on.

I watched game four at Whiskey Tango, an excellent sports bar in Hollywood, FL, with my fiancée, my best man and his wife, the latter friends since college.

I watched game five at the pool bar of the Southernmost Hotel Collection in Key West, where we were all staying for the wedding. The wedding, incidentally, was a perfect beach wedding on a beautiful day, and I’m ecstatic that I was able to be there.

And I watched the sixth and final game at Jack Flats, also in Key West, with an interesting mix: a healthy number of Yankees fans, a healthy number of Phillies fans and one ass hat wearing a Red Sox shirt.

The main thing I learned from games five and six: Whiskey is evil.

I had a great time, and I couldn’t ask for better company. It still felt surreal watching the Yankees and my fellow fans celebrating in the Bronx and not being there, but it was for a worthy cause and, as I said, I’d do it all over again.

On the beach at Key West, after the wedding