Let's face it folks - contrary to popular thought and advertising during each Presidential candidate race, your vote does not count. Not at all. How do I know this? The Electoral College tells me so.
In 1787, alongside our Constitution, the Electoral College was created. Why was it made, you ask? Well, quite simply because our national leaders at the time didn't think we, as a people, were educated enough to carry out an election based off the 'popular vote'. No kidding. Apparently, we were too stupid to choose.
Now fast forward to today - our over-stimulated, median-educated, well informed populace is still living by this fallacy of not being able to select a President. Even though we now have a wide-spread population reaching to all corners of our nation and every nook and cranny in between, our system still says that the Electoral vote for any state may oppose the majority vote of its people, and quite possibly not accurately reflect the populace of said state.
According to the regulations that govern the Electoral College, the amount of electoral votes a state has is equal to its number of US Senators (2 for each state) and US Representatives (determined by population). So for example: Texas has 2 US Senators and 36 Representatives for a total of 38 electoral votes. In theory, most of us assume that our state's electoral votes are cast based off the majority vote. However, it may not be not so. An electoral vote can directly contradict what the people of its state have voted for.
So, now that we are a more educated, more reliable nation, why hasn't the Electoral College been changed or for that matter, eradicated? The general explanation is that the Electoral College is too embedded in the Constitution and our government to be changed now.
A greater load of malarky I have yet to hear, folks. This is simply not true at all. Our Constitution currently has 27 amendments; the original 10 being the Bill of Rights, or the first amendments to be instituted all at one time. This means the Constitution has been amended, or changed, 17 times since its inception in the late 18th century. It can be changed as times have necessitated.
And as for government concerns? Seriously? I mean, really...seriously? Our government is slowly working its way towards Feudalism, Communism, or any other government-based negative "ism" we, as a nation, do not want. It's time to demand a change to this archaic and insulting "institution" and require our most exalted political seat (and all others for that matter) be based solely on the "Popular Vote", no matter who ends up in the chair.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
This May be What's Wrong with Our System
The other day my man found some rather personal and important papers for a young lady while walking around the block. Included in this stack was a checkbook and a packet of WIC information along with active WIC checks for food. Now, WIC is a government-run program which provides families with the ability to get some basic food items such as milk, cheese, and cereal as well as infant formula. We thought it was rather important to get this information back to this young lady but the checkbook did not have a phone number listed.
The following day I attempted to reach out to the local WIC office whose information was stamped on the back of the packet. A lady named Barbara told me that she could not provide the client with my name and phone number becuase it was a confidentiality issue. Stumped, I asked her to clarify.
"Due to confidentiality agreements we have in place, I am unable to provide your information to her."
"You mean you can't give her contact information to me." I corrected. "But I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to have her call me so that I can make sure she gets her information back."
"Yes, ma'am, I understand that; however, due to confidentiality, I will not be able to give that information to her."
"But, I'm giving you permission to hand out my phone number. How is that a breach of confidentiality?"
"Ma'am, I can only tell you that I can't break confidentiality on this issue. But if you could come by..."
This wasn't a confidentiality issue, it was a lazy issue. Point blank. I ended the conversation abruptly with the woman, having too much to do in my day to waste precious moments dissecting the confidentiality issue.
That night, my neighbor attempted to locate the woman by the address left on the checks but to no avail - no one was home.
The next day, I discussed it with my man and we decided we would just mail the information to the WIC center. A few days passed while I tried to wrangle my unbelievably busy life, leaving the packet of information still unmailed.
Yesterday, I received a call from a different woman from WIC asking if I'd had a chance to mail the information. No, I had not, I explained.
She repeatedly attempted to relay how important it was to get this information back to the rightful owner and could I possibly bring it to the office today.
I relented that I could try to bring it by at lunch or after work. That wouldn't do apparently, as she tried to encourage me to drop it off in the morning since their offices opened at 7:30am. I don't think I've ever woken up early enough to provide ample time for leisurely strolls about the city, so the morning would not do for me.
I told the woman that I would come by at lunch; however, if I couldn't break away it would be after my day ended at 4:00pm.
Today I attempted to drop the stuff off, but the parking is atrocious and I soon found myself out of time and patience.
As I was leaving the county complex, I called and left the woman I'd spoken with just yesterday a lengthy message explaining how I was completely irritated that I had had to go out of my way to try to reach out to this poor girl to get her information back to her and was blocked at every turn while the government facility tried to make it my responsibility to get their client's private matters back to her. And then I let her know that, in fact, if it was such a confidentiality issue to provide the girl with my contact information, then the WIC employee had broken that very rule when she called me the day before without my permission to do so.
Needless to say it only took a few moments to get a return call. During this time, the woman (Christy) tried to tell me that she had informed me that it was not that they couldn't give the client my information, but that they couldn't share her information with me. That information was NEVER relayed to me during either the call with Christy or the original call I had placed to their facility. And quite frankly, duh...I'm not a moron, but apparently Ol' Barb is. I had tried and tried to get Barbara to understand during that first conversation I'd had with them. Then Christy informed that initially they were in fact going to give the girl my information but that since she'd had some things stolen, she wanted to talk with me direclty about where I found her belongings so they hadn't given my information to her yet. Umm...anybody else confused by this statement? Then why didn't they give her my information? They already had my name and phone number as well as my express permission to give it to her. Wow...
We ended the phone call abruptly when I, again, lost my patience with the woman who was desperately trying to pin some misguided fault on me and exonerate her employees for being too lazy to help a girl out who is a client of theirs so they can help her out.
Sad, really.
So, I'm sending the stuff return receipt, signature required for two reasons:
1. I have a trail should the information not make it back to the client's hands.
2. There's no way I can be held liable should they try to blame me for anything.
The following day I attempted to reach out to the local WIC office whose information was stamped on the back of the packet. A lady named Barbara told me that she could not provide the client with my name and phone number becuase it was a confidentiality issue. Stumped, I asked her to clarify.
"Due to confidentiality agreements we have in place, I am unable to provide your information to her."
"You mean you can't give her contact information to me." I corrected. "But I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to have her call me so that I can make sure she gets her information back."
"Yes, ma'am, I understand that; however, due to confidentiality, I will not be able to give that information to her."
"But, I'm giving you permission to hand out my phone number. How is that a breach of confidentiality?"
"Ma'am, I can only tell you that I can't break confidentiality on this issue. But if you could come by..."
This wasn't a confidentiality issue, it was a lazy issue. Point blank. I ended the conversation abruptly with the woman, having too much to do in my day to waste precious moments dissecting the confidentiality issue.
That night, my neighbor attempted to locate the woman by the address left on the checks but to no avail - no one was home.
The next day, I discussed it with my man and we decided we would just mail the information to the WIC center. A few days passed while I tried to wrangle my unbelievably busy life, leaving the packet of information still unmailed.
Yesterday, I received a call from a different woman from WIC asking if I'd had a chance to mail the information. No, I had not, I explained.
She repeatedly attempted to relay how important it was to get this information back to the rightful owner and could I possibly bring it to the office today.
I relented that I could try to bring it by at lunch or after work. That wouldn't do apparently, as she tried to encourage me to drop it off in the morning since their offices opened at 7:30am. I don't think I've ever woken up early enough to provide ample time for leisurely strolls about the city, so the morning would not do for me.
I told the woman that I would come by at lunch; however, if I couldn't break away it would be after my day ended at 4:00pm.
Today I attempted to drop the stuff off, but the parking is atrocious and I soon found myself out of time and patience.
As I was leaving the county complex, I called and left the woman I'd spoken with just yesterday a lengthy message explaining how I was completely irritated that I had had to go out of my way to try to reach out to this poor girl to get her information back to her and was blocked at every turn while the government facility tried to make it my responsibility to get their client's private matters back to her. And then I let her know that, in fact, if it was such a confidentiality issue to provide the girl with my contact information, then the WIC employee had broken that very rule when she called me the day before without my permission to do so.
Needless to say it only took a few moments to get a return call. During this time, the woman (Christy) tried to tell me that she had informed me that it was not that they couldn't give the client my information, but that they couldn't share her information with me. That information was NEVER relayed to me during either the call with Christy or the original call I had placed to their facility. And quite frankly, duh...I'm not a moron, but apparently Ol' Barb is. I had tried and tried to get Barbara to understand during that first conversation I'd had with them. Then Christy informed that initially they were in fact going to give the girl my information but that since she'd had some things stolen, she wanted to talk with me direclty about where I found her belongings so they hadn't given my information to her yet. Umm...anybody else confused by this statement? Then why didn't they give her my information? They already had my name and phone number as well as my express permission to give it to her. Wow...
We ended the phone call abruptly when I, again, lost my patience with the woman who was desperately trying to pin some misguided fault on me and exonerate her employees for being too lazy to help a girl out who is a client of theirs so they can help her out.
Sad, really.
So, I'm sending the stuff return receipt, signature required for two reasons:
1. I have a trail should the information not make it back to the client's hands.
2. There's no way I can be held liable should they try to blame me for anything.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Can’t We All Just Stop?
We’ve all heard
the slurs. We’ve all encountered the
censure. Every one of us – in some way,
by some measure whether related to sex, color, class, creed, preference,
etc. But even though racism/prejudism
continues to be battled on all fronts, the separatist mentality continues to
grow.
For the record, it is not battling racism for one group to pick on another. It is not calling for equal rights for a group to ask for special treatment even though they may not follow the law. It is still hurtful to demand silence from one group and then publicly mock them in ways that would not be tolerated from them.
These hypocrisies continue to divide our people and live in the minds of women and men who claim neutrality. And this growing standard continues to plague our nation.
Racism is not just for the African Americans or Hispanics. It can happen to anyone by any other set of people. Reverse racism is the act of White Americans being targeted in ways that would not be tolerated were the roles reversed. However, we have a Supreme Court Justice who threw out a case of Reverse Racism while she was still actively on the bench, siting that reverse racism wasn’t possible. It sure is – maybe not the term, as the term would have someone believe that no racism is taking place – but the act of racism is rampant across all lines, not just a select few.
Every time a nationality or specific group of people picks, mocks, makes fun of, hinders, disrupts, or otherwise means to set apart another specific group of people, racism and prejudice have occurred.
How is it okay for a Black comedian to mock white folks on stage but not the other way around? Why is it okay for a hip-hop song sung by a black group to mention losing your black man to a white woman but that would never be tolerated were it sung the opposite way by a white group? If it’s alright for the Mexican population to claim a Hispanic Heritage month, why is it racist for a White population to claim a European-descent month? There is a Black Network, a Mexican Network, but no White cable or television channels. Why is this?
As some of you may know, I have a heritage that includes American Indian – Cherokee, to be exact. And as proven by archeology, American Indians and Mexicans are tied to the same lineage. Yet the American Indian people are one of our most censured groups, and still they remain some of the most silent.
In my teens, I was given the opportunity (although I would not have called it that at the time) to live with a large group of girls, made up of all kinds of ethnicities and backgrounds. I loved these girls – my housemates, my mentors, my friends. Sure, we didn’t always get along and didn’t always like each other, but never because of our skin or backgrounds. Sometimes personalities just clash. And sure, there were preferences…on music, clothes, boys, and all sorts of other stuff. So what that our hair was different; our eyes, our skin tone, our features…this is true in every culture. We had feelings and opinions and cares and experiences. And we were able to share them.
Every group has its bragger’s rights as well as its downfalls. Each of us has our “trailer trash” and our “Super Stars”. Yet we seem to forget this if someone else mentions our flaws. I’m constantly reminded of the adage “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
If it’s not alright for someone to mock your individuality or heritage, then respect that it’s not okay for you to do it to them. Period.
If we are truly one nation fighting for one country, why aren’t we wholly one people? We will always have differences and preferences that set us apart, but these should make us stronger, not more divided. It’s time we stop claiming victimization and unify ourselves as simply neighbors, friends, co-workers, associates, family and just plain humans.
Song: Overweight by Blue October
Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
And walk as far as they need to recover?
For how long?
But are we scared to take the ride
Or dare to look inside?
I wanna learn to walk with others as an equal
I want to treat the ones who love me with respect
I wanna tell the world I’ll give them all a piggyback
And try take away my negative effect
For the record, it is not battling racism for one group to pick on another. It is not calling for equal rights for a group to ask for special treatment even though they may not follow the law. It is still hurtful to demand silence from one group and then publicly mock them in ways that would not be tolerated from them.
These hypocrisies continue to divide our people and live in the minds of women and men who claim neutrality. And this growing standard continues to plague our nation.
Racism is not just for the African Americans or Hispanics. It can happen to anyone by any other set of people. Reverse racism is the act of White Americans being targeted in ways that would not be tolerated were the roles reversed. However, we have a Supreme Court Justice who threw out a case of Reverse Racism while she was still actively on the bench, siting that reverse racism wasn’t possible. It sure is – maybe not the term, as the term would have someone believe that no racism is taking place – but the act of racism is rampant across all lines, not just a select few.
Every time a nationality or specific group of people picks, mocks, makes fun of, hinders, disrupts, or otherwise means to set apart another specific group of people, racism and prejudice have occurred.
How is it okay for a Black comedian to mock white folks on stage but not the other way around? Why is it okay for a hip-hop song sung by a black group to mention losing your black man to a white woman but that would never be tolerated were it sung the opposite way by a white group? If it’s alright for the Mexican population to claim a Hispanic Heritage month, why is it racist for a White population to claim a European-descent month? There is a Black Network, a Mexican Network, but no White cable or television channels. Why is this?
As some of you may know, I have a heritage that includes American Indian – Cherokee, to be exact. And as proven by archeology, American Indians and Mexicans are tied to the same lineage. Yet the American Indian people are one of our most censured groups, and still they remain some of the most silent.
In my teens, I was given the opportunity (although I would not have called it that at the time) to live with a large group of girls, made up of all kinds of ethnicities and backgrounds. I loved these girls – my housemates, my mentors, my friends. Sure, we didn’t always get along and didn’t always like each other, but never because of our skin or backgrounds. Sometimes personalities just clash. And sure, there were preferences…on music, clothes, boys, and all sorts of other stuff. So what that our hair was different; our eyes, our skin tone, our features…this is true in every culture. We had feelings and opinions and cares and experiences. And we were able to share them.
Every group has its bragger’s rights as well as its downfalls. Each of us has our “trailer trash” and our “Super Stars”. Yet we seem to forget this if someone else mentions our flaws. I’m constantly reminded of the adage “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
If it’s not alright for someone to mock your individuality or heritage, then respect that it’s not okay for you to do it to them. Period.
If we are truly one nation fighting for one country, why aren’t we wholly one people? We will always have differences and preferences that set us apart, but these should make us stronger, not more divided. It’s time we stop claiming victimization and unify ourselves as simply neighbors, friends, co-workers, associates, family and just plain humans.
Song: Overweight by Blue October
Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
And walk as far as they need to recover?
For how long?
But are we scared to take the ride
Or dare to look inside?
I wanna learn to walk with others as an equal
I want to treat the ones who love me with respect
I wanna tell the world I’ll give them all a piggyback
And try take away my negative effect
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Mama always said, 'Stupid is as stupid does'...
Why does stupid always have the loudest voice? And, must we be challenged every so often with functioning in the face of stupid knowing that once released in to the atmosphere, it has the capability to act as a vacuum, sucking the sense out of every head in the vicinity?
My Monday started out like any other day:
By the time I pulled in to the Starbucks drive-thru I was practically crying with the anticipation of my first shot of cool caffeine. Starbucks has a new size called Trenta and it's basically a Super Duper Grande. I was so excited. I figured after the morning I'd had, I could excuse a minor indulgence in my day by grabbing the largest sized anything that the coffeehouse had.
The cutest little voice came over the speaker, all cheery and amped out on espresso shots, for sure.
"Welcome to Starbucks, what can I make for you today?"
I was already smiling. "Do you guys have the Trenta?"
"Yes, of course we do."
"Great. Can I get a Trenta Iced Chai, please?"
"Ohhh." She sounded like someone had a just taken her puppy away. "I'm sorry, we only serve iced coffee or iced tea in our Trenta size."
The dumbness of the statement struck me with enough force to render me speechless. While I stammered about with "umm...but...I thought..." and desperately searched the menu for some kind of clue to help me regain my senses, all I could really think is how thankful I was that there wasn't a camera recording my clumsy attempt at facial expressions and response.
Knowing I wouldn't be able to shut up the little voice in my head that was screaming, "but the chai IS a tea and I want it over ice, you twit!", I settled for a Venti size instead.
Sipping gleefully at my beverage, thinking it was probably best I didn't end up with the larger, I was certain that my encounter with stupid was over for the day, when my cell phone rang.
Shame on me for picking it up. Apparently, stupid had become an epidemic.
"Hi, is this Tracie?"
"Yes, this is sh-"
"I've got an order to get you in for a CT Scan on your neck. We need to get you scheduled."
"Um, well, I'm not-"
"I need to ask you a few questions. What's your insurance ID?"
This was the most abrupt, rude, crotchety old biddy I'd encountered in my life. And if you knew my maternal grandmother, you'd know just how serious a statement that was. I mustered up my 'serious tone'. "Now, wait a minute, who is this-"
"Hold on there, missy." She snapped. Missy!? Did she really just down-talk me? I was rendered silent once again. "I need to ask a few more questions. Do you have any metal in your body such as shrapnel or bullets?"
Umm...really? Last time I checked Colorado Springs wasn't a war zone. And this little "missy" wasn't in the military. "Yes, I have an implant in my lower left mandible. My jawbone."
She heaved an audible sigh as though she'd just been completely inconvenienced. "You're gonna have to hold."
"Well, actually, I...hello?" The sound of streaming hold music plagued my ear. Damn.
"Are you still there?" She didn't wait for my response. "The implant - is it metal or plastic?"
Umm...was this a trick question? "Metal." I replied, making sure to enunciate slowly and clearly.
Another put-out sigh. "Hold again." The music began playing once more before I could interject. She was back on in a moment.
"Is this implant to fix a bone?"
Really? Really? Was I being punked? "Yes, and it's got a fake crown on top of it too."
"Lovely." Did I detect sarcasm? "Any more metal or information you'd like to tell me about?"
Oh there was certainly some things I'd like to tell her about. But since I wasn't even really sure what she was talking about yet, I kept it simple. "I have two piercings on either side of my head, at my ears, that do not come out."
I had just had a MRI a few weeks back and knew that none of the metal posed an issue.
"Are you, " she began in complete frustration as though she was about to make some snide remark, then corrected herself. "I'm going to have to put you on hold again." She snapped.
As I sat waiting, I realized my temper had begun to simmer.
My lovely scheduler returned with her cheerful self. "Just exactly why can't you remove them?" She barked obviously disgusted with me.
I'd had enough. Stupid and rude have a way of gnawing at my skin and quickly replacing my facade of patience with who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are.
"You know what," I began, and when she tried to speak over me, I quickly raised my voice and my attitude to let her know she wasn't going to interrupt me. "I don't know who you are or what's pissed you off so bad, but I'm done with this. And if you are the representation for your company, if someone interviewed you and said, 'I want you for this position', then I definitely want nothing to do with your facility. I will go back to my original imaging place. You have just managed to lose a ton of money for your organization."
"Well, ack," she began and I could envision her rolling her rheumy eyes but I wasn't taking any more of her.
Yeah, I don't think so, I thought as I hung up the phone.
That evening as I sat on the couch, I mused over my ability to handle myself well in the face of cute and stupid as well as crotchety and stupid. Proud, I snuggled in to the sofa as my man clicked through the TV channels. Slowly, I became aware that a message was being displayed instead of actual shows and that it was causing the mood of the man sitting next to me to darken noticeably.
I picked up the phone and dialed our provider, certain that it was something easy to resolve. Silly, silly girl. Once stupid begins, it takes an hearty effort to stop the rate of contagion. It was everywhere. And growing.
The technician gave me some line of BS on how to work around the situation but it wasn't going to provide a remedy and this was definitely not an end-user fault or responsibility.
I asked about what options were going to be available since we were paying for a service that we were not receiving.
"Well, ma'am, " he politely offered, "honestly, they have the ability to change lineup at any time without notification. It's in your contract."
Who was talking about channel lineup? We couldn't get access to the premium channels we were paying for. A giggle escaped me at the stupid response and his smugness. I heard my man chuckle, having overheard the evil in my laugh. This technician had unknowingly just entered in to the Southern woman's web. No getting out now.
I smiled in to the phone. "I'm going to chalk this up to you being a technician and not in customer service and I'm going to request that you have a customer service rep or manager give me a call tomorrow, hon. I know you may not be aware of this so I'm going to help you out." I could hear him shuffle uncomfortably and I hate to admit I got a little joy out of it.
"I am well aware that contractually your company can change channel lineup at any given time without notice; however, to offer a service, take payment for that service and issue a contract for it, then not provide that service or communication about it is not permissible. To do so would be illegal. And you should probably not say that again to any other customers calling in with this issue, as it could create the burden of liability for your company."
The line went silent. I smiled bigger.
"I apologize for that, ma'am. Would you like to speak with a manager?"
"I most certainly would. Thank you."
I waited on the phone thinking this painful study in stupidity had to be over when my next test announced her presence on the line.
I explained my grievance of not being able to access our paid channels, to which she replied: "I do apologize for the inconvenience, but this has come down from the premium channels' headquarters and we were given no notice either. In fact, we were only notified once customers started calling in last week."
And there it was...another slap in the face from the stupid fairy. Would this never end? I stared so long at the channel guide in front of me, that she questioned whether I was still on the line.
"I certainly don't want to come off as offensive," I began, understanding that stupid could be as volatile as a wild animal. "And I can understand your position; however, aren't you a broadcasting and telecommunications company?"
She had no choice but to confirm that.
"And as a digital telecommunications company, don't you have the ability to send out emails, scrolling notifications as well as messages posted on the channel guide notifying your customer base of issues, problems and outages?"
She was silent. Because I was right.
"So you can see where while I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me, I will still hold your company responsible for this, correct?"
In fact, she did. She so understood that she took $60 off our bill over the next 6 months.
And as I lay in bed that night I pondered the experiences I'd endured for the day. Realizing how thankful I was to be on the receiving side of stupid and not the giving. I dozed off wondering if I'd earned enough points to pass this stupid lesson and be exempt for at least the foreseeable future.
My Monday started out like any other day:
- Lag for work - check
- Trip over dogs and release a string of colorful language - check
- Stare blankly in to fridge while trying desperately to remember why it's open - check
- Start car but forget it's still locked; crack fingernail on door handle when it doesn't open - check
- Forget something and go back in to the house - check...check...check.
By the time I pulled in to the Starbucks drive-thru I was practically crying with the anticipation of my first shot of cool caffeine. Starbucks has a new size called Trenta and it's basically a Super Duper Grande. I was so excited. I figured after the morning I'd had, I could excuse a minor indulgence in my day by grabbing the largest sized anything that the coffeehouse had.
The cutest little voice came over the speaker, all cheery and amped out on espresso shots, for sure.
"Welcome to Starbucks, what can I make for you today?"
I was already smiling. "Do you guys have the Trenta?"
"Yes, of course we do."
"Great. Can I get a Trenta Iced Chai, please?"
"Ohhh." She sounded like someone had a just taken her puppy away. "I'm sorry, we only serve iced coffee or iced tea in our Trenta size."
The dumbness of the statement struck me with enough force to render me speechless. While I stammered about with "umm...but...I thought..." and desperately searched the menu for some kind of clue to help me regain my senses, all I could really think is how thankful I was that there wasn't a camera recording my clumsy attempt at facial expressions and response.
Knowing I wouldn't be able to shut up the little voice in my head that was screaming, "but the chai IS a tea and I want it over ice, you twit!", I settled for a Venti size instead.
Sipping gleefully at my beverage, thinking it was probably best I didn't end up with the larger, I was certain that my encounter with stupid was over for the day, when my cell phone rang.
Shame on me for picking it up. Apparently, stupid had become an epidemic.
"Hi, is this Tracie?"
"Yes, this is sh-"
"I've got an order to get you in for a CT Scan on your neck. We need to get you scheduled."
"Um, well, I'm not-"
"I need to ask you a few questions. What's your insurance ID?"
This was the most abrupt, rude, crotchety old biddy I'd encountered in my life. And if you knew my maternal grandmother, you'd know just how serious a statement that was. I mustered up my 'serious tone'. "Now, wait a minute, who is this-"
"Hold on there, missy." She snapped. Missy!? Did she really just down-talk me? I was rendered silent once again. "I need to ask a few more questions. Do you have any metal in your body such as shrapnel or bullets?"
Umm...really? Last time I checked Colorado Springs wasn't a war zone. And this little "missy" wasn't in the military. "Yes, I have an implant in my lower left mandible. My jawbone."
She heaved an audible sigh as though she'd just been completely inconvenienced. "You're gonna have to hold."
"Well, actually, I...hello?" The sound of streaming hold music plagued my ear. Damn.
"Are you still there?" She didn't wait for my response. "The implant - is it metal or plastic?"
Umm...was this a trick question? "Metal." I replied, making sure to enunciate slowly and clearly.
Another put-out sigh. "Hold again." The music began playing once more before I could interject. She was back on in a moment.
"Is this implant to fix a bone?"
Really? Really? Was I being punked? "Yes, and it's got a fake crown on top of it too."
"Lovely." Did I detect sarcasm? "Any more metal or information you'd like to tell me about?"
Oh there was certainly some things I'd like to tell her about. But since I wasn't even really sure what she was talking about yet, I kept it simple. "I have two piercings on either side of my head, at my ears, that do not come out."
I had just had a MRI a few weeks back and knew that none of the metal posed an issue.
"Are you, " she began in complete frustration as though she was about to make some snide remark, then corrected herself. "I'm going to have to put you on hold again." She snapped.
As I sat waiting, I realized my temper had begun to simmer.
My lovely scheduler returned with her cheerful self. "Just exactly why can't you remove them?" She barked obviously disgusted with me.
I'd had enough. Stupid and rude have a way of gnawing at my skin and quickly replacing my facade of patience with who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are.
"You know what," I began, and when she tried to speak over me, I quickly raised my voice and my attitude to let her know she wasn't going to interrupt me. "I don't know who you are or what's pissed you off so bad, but I'm done with this. And if you are the representation for your company, if someone interviewed you and said, 'I want you for this position', then I definitely want nothing to do with your facility. I will go back to my original imaging place. You have just managed to lose a ton of money for your organization."
"Well, ack," she began and I could envision her rolling her rheumy eyes but I wasn't taking any more of her.
Yeah, I don't think so, I thought as I hung up the phone.
That evening as I sat on the couch, I mused over my ability to handle myself well in the face of cute and stupid as well as crotchety and stupid. Proud, I snuggled in to the sofa as my man clicked through the TV channels. Slowly, I became aware that a message was being displayed instead of actual shows and that it was causing the mood of the man sitting next to me to darken noticeably.
I picked up the phone and dialed our provider, certain that it was something easy to resolve. Silly, silly girl. Once stupid begins, it takes an hearty effort to stop the rate of contagion. It was everywhere. And growing.
The technician gave me some line of BS on how to work around the situation but it wasn't going to provide a remedy and this was definitely not an end-user fault or responsibility.
I asked about what options were going to be available since we were paying for a service that we were not receiving.
"Well, ma'am, " he politely offered, "honestly, they have the ability to change lineup at any time without notification. It's in your contract."
Who was talking about channel lineup? We couldn't get access to the premium channels we were paying for. A giggle escaped me at the stupid response and his smugness. I heard my man chuckle, having overheard the evil in my laugh. This technician had unknowingly just entered in to the Southern woman's web. No getting out now.
I smiled in to the phone. "I'm going to chalk this up to you being a technician and not in customer service and I'm going to request that you have a customer service rep or manager give me a call tomorrow, hon. I know you may not be aware of this so I'm going to help you out." I could hear him shuffle uncomfortably and I hate to admit I got a little joy out of it.
"I am well aware that contractually your company can change channel lineup at any given time without notice; however, to offer a service, take payment for that service and issue a contract for it, then not provide that service or communication about it is not permissible. To do so would be illegal. And you should probably not say that again to any other customers calling in with this issue, as it could create the burden of liability for your company."
The line went silent. I smiled bigger.
"I apologize for that, ma'am. Would you like to speak with a manager?"
"I most certainly would. Thank you."
I waited on the phone thinking this painful study in stupidity had to be over when my next test announced her presence on the line.
I explained my grievance of not being able to access our paid channels, to which she replied: "I do apologize for the inconvenience, but this has come down from the premium channels' headquarters and we were given no notice either. In fact, we were only notified once customers started calling in last week."
And there it was...another slap in the face from the stupid fairy. Would this never end? I stared so long at the channel guide in front of me, that she questioned whether I was still on the line.
"I certainly don't want to come off as offensive," I began, understanding that stupid could be as volatile as a wild animal. "And I can understand your position; however, aren't you a broadcasting and telecommunications company?"
She had no choice but to confirm that.
"And as a digital telecommunications company, don't you have the ability to send out emails, scrolling notifications as well as messages posted on the channel guide notifying your customer base of issues, problems and outages?"
She was silent. Because I was right.
"So you can see where while I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me, I will still hold your company responsible for this, correct?"
In fact, she did. She so understood that she took $60 off our bill over the next 6 months.
And as I lay in bed that night I pondered the experiences I'd endured for the day. Realizing how thankful I was to be on the receiving side of stupid and not the giving. I dozed off wondering if I'd earned enough points to pass this stupid lesson and be exempt for at least the foreseeable future.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Germs...Bacteria...Virus...Oh My!
It seems to me that America has gone 'germ-crazy'. Nowadays, almost every other commercial on the television is boasting about some antibacterial, germ-busting, protectant. Everyone carries antibacterial gel on their person and it's becoming one helluva racket. Even Kleenex brand has come out with a new disposable towel to replace bathroom hand towels. Nevermind the killing of more trees, must keep our babies from getting sick. Only, do you? And how beneficial is it to keep our kids and ourselves from getting sick?
The flu shot is now an annual trend that Americans desperately wait for. Because, surely it will work to keep you from getting the flu. Oh, wait...that's right - no it won't. It may keep you from getting a "known and untainted" strain, but the flu is this nasty, intelligent bug that mutates and recreates yearly. The shot may, however, keep you from getting really really sick. May.
Here's the problem with all these aids and practices, though: the human immune system works by exposure on many types of viruses and even some bacteria. This means that the body needs to have access to some degree to its natural environment in order to strengthen and enhance its defenses.
As an example, look at the now infamous Amazonian tribe that was wiped out in the '80's by the common cold that the silly white man so irresponsibly gave them. I understand that not every exposure is a healthy one and that a pandemic could and would dispose of a significant amount of people, but does sheltering our children and ourselves really work to keep this from happening?
Even when I was a child, shoes weren't worn regularly and fields and woods were free game for the adventurous. If you bumped it, you rubbed it. If it got cut, you tried to keep it clean. If it started slightly bleeding, you sucked it dry. If it were worse than that, you went to find Momma. And she usually put you in the bathtub and poured isopropyl alcohol on it. At least that's how it went in the South.
Of course, that was then and the times they are a-changin'. Still....I wonder how much are we protecting our own these days? By trying to ward off the microscopic villians that enter our airspace undetected, are we creating a more sterile environment or a more paranoid, weakened population? After all, it is said that the most sure-fire way to get sick is to go to the hospital...
The flu shot is now an annual trend that Americans desperately wait for. Because, surely it will work to keep you from getting the flu. Oh, wait...that's right - no it won't. It may keep you from getting a "known and untainted" strain, but the flu is this nasty, intelligent bug that mutates and recreates yearly. The shot may, however, keep you from getting really really sick. May.
Here's the problem with all these aids and practices, though: the human immune system works by exposure on many types of viruses and even some bacteria. This means that the body needs to have access to some degree to its natural environment in order to strengthen and enhance its defenses.
As an example, look at the now infamous Amazonian tribe that was wiped out in the '80's by the common cold that the silly white man so irresponsibly gave them. I understand that not every exposure is a healthy one and that a pandemic could and would dispose of a significant amount of people, but does sheltering our children and ourselves really work to keep this from happening?
Even when I was a child, shoes weren't worn regularly and fields and woods were free game for the adventurous. If you bumped it, you rubbed it. If it got cut, you tried to keep it clean. If it started slightly bleeding, you sucked it dry. If it were worse than that, you went to find Momma. And she usually put you in the bathtub and poured isopropyl alcohol on it. At least that's how it went in the South.
Of course, that was then and the times they are a-changin'. Still....I wonder how much are we protecting our own these days? By trying to ward off the microscopic villians that enter our airspace undetected, are we creating a more sterile environment or a more paranoid, weakened population? After all, it is said that the most sure-fire way to get sick is to go to the hospital...
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
The Wonderful World of Whackjobs
Oh the wonderful world of crazy people. And the scary thing is they don’t know they are. We’ve all heard the saying, “If you think you’re crazy, you’re probably not but if others question it and you don’t, you probably are.”
And the really frightening thing is that they are everywhere. Like those small roaches that infest homes when people don’t take care to clean. And they spread out like a contagion, making you wonder: if I’m around a looney for too long, can I catch it?” Sadly, if we take even a grain from the Nature/Nurture argument of our fine friends in the Psychology department, then yes – there most likely is that chance. After all, that which you surround yourself with…
And there are all sorts, from the type that blatantly himself in third person making you wonder, “Are you insane?” to the type that mumbles and laughs at herself when you’re alone in an elevator making you think, “Omigod, omigod, omigod”. But it’s the subtle signs of mental disorder that freak me out the most.
Take for example the woman that called in to the radio station this morning. She wanted the DJs’ help her connect with a man she had only had one date with. She really wanted to hook up with him again, but she also needed to tell him there was a chance she was pregnant.
When they get the gentleman on the phone, it’s obvious the poor bastard is afflicted with FullOfHimself disease. He tells the DJs that he is in a longterm relationship, living with his son and baby mama.
Then, Crazy pops on to the line, totally freaking the guy out. He hears her voice and immediately gets all jacked up, stating that she’d been pestering him for days and had finally found a way to get a hold of him. Of course. Crazy people WILL find you. They are more impressive than the CIA.
At the mention that she has something to tell him, he retorts, “What, that you love me?” And when the announcement is ‘no, I might be pregnant’, it’s like he’s been busted with an illegal kilo. But, here’s the kicker: she hasn’t taken a test yet and feels that they should do it together. Uh-huh. Feelin’ the freak in this girl yet? She has, of course, heard him mention that he'd crept out on another woman to be with her.
He is quick to decline that invitation and states to her and the radio show that while he’s not interested in anything with her, if she is pregnant, he will do whatever it takes to provide for the child and be a good dad. Bravo (golf clap), Good Samaritan, bravo. (Um…way to do something to try and repair your dignity since the whole city now knows your rather unique name and that you’ve cheated on your current girl and weren’t even responsible about it).
He goes on to repeatedly blather about how this is all a big mistake, he’s got to do a lot of damage control, he does not want to have a relationship with her, blah, blah, blah.
Her ready response to all this is, “Well, you never know, this could all turn out to be something great.” Wait…what? Did you not hear him just say he has cheated on someone else and doesn’t even like you, you Jack Wagon?
The DJs ask her if she knows for sure, to which the answer is no. They ask if she has taken a test or gone to the doctor; another no. She offhandedly mentions she’s a week late. But she has a ‘feeling’ that she’s pregnant. She also says that she might have told him that she wanted to get pregnant when they were together. Hmmmm…no longer a mystery on why he hasn’t called back.
Then the DJs start taking calls and people are speculating that she’s lying, that she’s making it all up, that he shouldn’t have stepped out on his girlfriend that way. And while all these are good points, I can’t help but wonder: HELLO! Did anyone assimilate that she’s a STALKER who lost her mind in the parking lot of life? And if by some off chance she does give birth, this poor baby is going to grow up knowing that his momma is not right and that there’s a chance he might not be right either. Hell, it’s recorded for him to hear once he’s of age to understand.
Good Southern folk know that the best defense is to keep your crazy to yourself. Because it can come back to bite you on the butt over and over again. And if you’re unlucky enough to have earned the wrath of someone less balanced than you? Well, Crazy-karma is the absolute worst kind to create. But it is usually the quickest way to learn the lesson.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Dear American Government
Every year that I have lived in Colorado I have been hit with owed state taxes. And every year, like clockwork, I have paid what was owed. Even in 2010, when funds ran out, I kept paying what I could until I could pay it off. Because never in my adult life have I been 'one of those kind of people'.
Then, you decided to do a supposed personal audit of my taxes and hit me with the notice that apparently I owe AN ADDITIONAL $900 on my 2008 taxes and now you are coming after me for it.
At the intitial announcement, I did not have an income. This you knew. And how do I know you knew? Because you have now sent me a threatening notice of intent to garnish my wages when I've only had my current full-time job for one month. Lovely.
So, let me get this straight: I, one of many full-blooded, law-abiding Americans, am being harrassed and pursued for a paltry amount of money that I fully intend to pay (until such time as I can manage a review and investigation into this on my own) while many dodge their taxes, illegally fail to correctly report their income, or flat out refuse to pay what they rightfully owe.
And then, of course, there are those that have rights once they illegally find their way across our borders. No taxes paid for them at all, so what could they possibly owe at the end of the year? Yet, we shelter these trespassers and provide them free schooling, medical assistance, and legal aid even though no other country would allow these benefits for an American trying to take advantage of their country's opportunities.
I say to you, America - quit penalizing me, and all other good citizens, for the faults and flaws of those who would manipulate and steal. Instead, offer me small rewards for following the rules and helping to continue to support this country. Provide me with kudos and congratulations for continuing to choose right over wrong. And quit trying to get me fired from the damned full-time job I just landed by unjustly painting me in a bad light to my new employer.
Best regards,
Teege
Then, you decided to do a supposed personal audit of my taxes and hit me with the notice that apparently I owe AN ADDITIONAL $900 on my 2008 taxes and now you are coming after me for it.
At the intitial announcement, I did not have an income. This you knew. And how do I know you knew? Because you have now sent me a threatening notice of intent to garnish my wages when I've only had my current full-time job for one month. Lovely.
So, let me get this straight: I, one of many full-blooded, law-abiding Americans, am being harrassed and pursued for a paltry amount of money that I fully intend to pay (until such time as I can manage a review and investigation into this on my own) while many dodge their taxes, illegally fail to correctly report their income, or flat out refuse to pay what they rightfully owe.
And then, of course, there are those that have rights once they illegally find their way across our borders. No taxes paid for them at all, so what could they possibly owe at the end of the year? Yet, we shelter these trespassers and provide them free schooling, medical assistance, and legal aid even though no other country would allow these benefits for an American trying to take advantage of their country's opportunities.
I say to you, America - quit penalizing me, and all other good citizens, for the faults and flaws of those who would manipulate and steal. Instead, offer me small rewards for following the rules and helping to continue to support this country. Provide me with kudos and congratulations for continuing to choose right over wrong. And quit trying to get me fired from the damned full-time job I just landed by unjustly painting me in a bad light to my new employer.
Best regards,
Teege
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