Friday, July 9, 2010

The companies I keep

Remember that scene in the Da Vinci Code where Silas - the murderous albino monk - is flogging himself with a metal cilice until his back bleeds? That's what it feels like dealing with some of the companies I deal with almost every day.


I know, I know. I don't actually have to deal with them. I choose to deal with them. I suppose I could choose to deal with different companies. Better companies. Nicer companies. The kind of companies that actually encourage customer service and feedback. That are courteous and responsive to my needs and concerns regarding the service I'm paying them to provide.


I'd be much happier bringing my hard earned dollars to companies like that. If I had any hard earned dollars.

Being a customer of these three companies in particular is like being in a bad relationship: you want to leave, but it's just easier to stay. The known evil is better than the unknown one, even though in my heart of hearts I can't believe the unknown ones could be any worse (Bank Of America customers please hold your comments until the end).


The thing about these companies is that each of them sucks in a different way. Nah, I'm just kidding. Charter and at&t suck exactly the same way. They sell you a service you can't see or hear because their technology is so unbelievably bad.

I used to have a joke about at&t offering free call-dropping. The problem is since I've had my iPhone, it isn't so funny anymore.

When the Charter technician came to our house because the picture on our digital cable was tiling and locking up (which it still is), he actually said the reason for it was squirrels running on the cable lines. Maybe the squirrels know how to fix it.(Let the record show I didn't go for the "nuts" joke. Even though I wanted to.)

I don't even know where to start with Wells Fargo. How about the fact that no one in the branch I've been going to for over a dozen years knows who I am. Or the way they nickel and dime me with fees on everything from overdraft protection to speaking with one of their tellers (who doesn't know me). Apparently they've learned well from all the supermarket locations they're in. It must be why there are only two teller windows open on the 15th and 30th of the month when the line looks like the one for Space Mountain. And those two tellers are trainees (who don't know me).

Anyway, just venting. No real point here other than to admit I'm too lazy or cheap to eliminate the grief these companies cause me on a daily basis. After all I did sign up for it.

The good news is at least I know it's the one thing they can deliver on.

UPDATE: Just got back from Big 5 Sporting Goods to buy new softball cleats for my daughter. Add their filthy, disorganized, absent sales people (and stupid and unknowledgeable when they do surface) to the list of companies that suck. And I say that with love.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

You're out of order

Today I had my day in court. Well, actually more like my five minutes.

Without going into a lot of detail, because, my lawyer has advised me not to on here, I was sued in Small Claims court. Somebody felt I lied to them about something, then made a decision to do something that cost them money. And because they felt I lied - which I didn't - they felt I should pay for what they decided to do.

Vague enough? Then I'll continue.

If you've never seen Small Claims court in action, I'd highly recommend it. It's right up there with Disneyland and Las Vegas both in terms of people-watching and entertainment value.

First the bailiff runs down some basic rules: address all comments to the bench. No talking while court's in session. Turn off your cellphones. Don't raise your voice. Don't make a grab for my gun then go on a wild shooting rampage (alright I made that one up).

Then the court clerk, who sits in a little pen with an outdated computer right in front of the judge, has everyone in the room stand, raise their right hand and take an oath swearing to tell the truth.

Just like on Law & Order, except your hand's not on a bible.

My case wasn't being heard until 10:30a.m., but I arrived at the courtroom at 8:30. Maybe it's because I'm in advertising and have done so many presentations, I wanted to get a feel for the room I was going to be playing to. I wanted to see how it all worked. I wanted to see if I was getting a hanging judge or Judge Ito.

The funny thing is I didn't get a judge at all.

In Small Claims, you get a judge pro tem, not a regular judge but a lawyer volunteering to act as judge since there are so many cases the real judges can't hear them all. If you're okay with that, which I was, you sign a document giving your consent. If you insist on a real judge, they'll insist on rescheduling you for another day. Then there you are - all dressed up and no place to plead.

Since Small Claims is for complaints $5,000 and under ($7,500 if it's not a business), many of them were landlords/property management companies suing for back rent. And winning.

In Small Claims, like so much of life, you're on your own. You're not allowed to have a lawyer represent you (although you can have one if you lose and appeal the decision). However you can do what I did which is have your lawyer prepare a trial brief arguing the case and citing legal cases and precedent on why the judge should rule in your favor. For the amount I was being sued for, $775, having my lawyer write a trial brief seemed a little like rabbit hunting with an elephant gun. But my feeling was I'd rather be over prepared than under.

I mentioned all dressed up before because that's what my lawyer told me to do: dress slacks, nice shirt (tie optional). It shows respect to the court, and while it shouldn't affect the judges decision, how I look could definitely affect his attitude towards me. He also said I'd be shocked at what people wore to court, and he wasn't kidding.

I can't tell who I enjoyed more - the greasy, strung out forty-five year old with the Led Zepplin t-shirt, torn jean shorts and flip-flops, or his crack-friendly wife who was literally, having minor grand mal seizures (or withdrawal) about every fifteen minutes.

Then there was Mr. Ralph Lauren: deck shoes, khaki cargo shorts, polo shirt and windbreaker. Every two minutes he kept looking at his TAGHeuer watch. Apparently the yacht was double parked.

I should mention prior to today's court date, the party suing me and I worked out a fragile peace. In fact I was told the case would be dropped and not to even bother showing up. My reply was that I'd need something a little more concrete than that - say a document from the court showing the case was withdrawn. I never got it. So I showed.

The person suing me did not. I guess that was his way of dropping the case because since he didn't show it was dismissed.

After the ruling, the judge made a point of complimenting me on the trial brief, saying he didn't know many lawyers who could prepare one as thorough and well written as mine.

I think he thought I was the one who did it, and I let him think that. It's not like anyone was under oath.

Oh, wait a minute.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

All is not lost

Through absolutely no effort of my own I've recently lost 28 pounds in about 6 weeks. (pause) Thank you.

I did it through a little method I like to call the stress diet. The reason I was on it was because of a situation my attorney won't let me blog about (but if you've been following closely - and remember some posts I had to take down - you can figure it out).

While I was in the middle of the situation, I looked at the weight loss as the silver lining. My belt now buckles a few holes further down. Pants that didn't fit before are now big on me. Shirts that had dust on them from being on hangars in the back of the closet for so long are back in the rotation (yes, they're black shirts - shut up).

Anyway, the situation has gotten considerably better, that constant knot in the pit of my stomach is gone and unfortunately I've regained my appetite. So now, the challenge becomes having to actually work to keep the weight I lost off. And to lose more to get down to where I want to be.

People tell me I don't look like I need to lose more weight, that I look just fine. Of course the easy thing would be to believe them.

But while it's very kind of them to say, here's the thing: even though I know I don't look as heavy as I did, it's still a numbers game. And I know the numbers.

So even though all is not lost yet, hopefully it will be soon.

All I need is some more stress in my life. Wonder where I can get me some of that?

Sunday, June 27, 2010

What's in a name?

I know what you're thinking. How could a sushi restaurant located at the corner of a busy intersection, with an exhaust-belching view of the 405 North, situated at the end of the Long Beach airport runway with Jet Blue jets roaring over, in a strip mall, next to a smog check shop be anything but amazing?

Especially with the humble name of Awesome Sushi. I know, right? The place just screams great sushi.

Just when I thought raw fish didn't hold any more surprises for me.

We scarfed down three original, delicious, creative rolls. First, the appropriately named Awesome Roll. Salmon with avocado inside, topped with fresh yellowtail, slice of fresh jalapeno topped with butter ponzu and finished with fried garlic.

Next up, or down, the Brilliant Roll. Spicy imitation crab (when the real thing just won't do), avocado inside, topped with salmon, shrimp and the chef's special sauce (insert your own joke here).

And last but certainly not least, the Fire Ant Roll. Spicy tuna covered with sliced avocado and topped with spicy mayo and masago (no picture of this one because it was gone before I could reach the iPhone).

The only thing better than discovering a great new sushi place is finding one in the most unlikely of locations.

If you find yourself in the Long Beach area, check it out.

Especially if you're hungry and need your car smogged.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

That time of year

Every August, we dip into the kids college funds (I kid - what college funds?) and go have ourselves a week at my own personal bit of heaven on earth, the Hotel Del Coronado.

This will be the 9th year we've gone.

It's a ridiculously expensive week, and worth every cent. Fire up the charge cards and unleash the room service. $25 a day resort fee for nothing? Bring it. (Some people think that fee entitles them to take as many bottles as they want of the Del's own incredible brand of shampoo, The Sea - or so I've heard).

We don't stay in the famous Victorian building. Instead we prefer the California Cabanas. This picture is from the patio of our room last year, though it could be from any year we've been there since we always request one of four specific rooms on the second floor of the Cabanas. These rooms give us this view, as well as the ocean to the left. They also look straight out over the pool, so we can see the kids when they decide to go down there without us.

Since my kids have been coming here since they were very young, they know this property like their own home. It gives them a great feeling of independence knowing they can navigate it on their own. They know there are a lot of people and they have to be careful. They are.

There are very few places only a couple hours away that make me feel like I'm out of the country. The Del is one of them. It's also a place I can genuinely relax, or at least feel that way without taking five days to ease into it.

The moment I arrive, all the stress just melts away. In fact, it doesn't come back until I get the bill at checkout.

When the week is over, I always dread leaving. On the drive back, I look at the $10 million dollar homes on Coronado we've biked by during the week and wish I knew exactly when my lotto win was coming.

But as I settle into the trip home, I realize it's time to get back to my other annual tradition.

Working the other 51 weeks so we can afford to come back next year.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Stay hungry, stay foolish


I have my friend Janice to thank for this video of Steve Jobs delivering the commencement speech at Stanford in 2005. She posted it on her website. I'm posting it here.

It's a message worth hearing.

And living.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Don't say I didn't warn you

As movie one-sheet lines go, the one for Signs seems unusually relevant.

"It's not like they didn't warn us." True of so many things.

Every once in awhile I find myself in a situation I've been in before. I call these situations the lessons I have to keep learning.

You know the ones.

They keep reoccurring in our lives, and when we find ourselves in the middle of one of them we can't believe it's happening to us again.

Each time, in the aftermath of these situations, I realize that if I think about it all the signs were there from the start. And if I'm being truthful with myself (highly overrated by the way), I can't say they didn't warn me.

I do think I'm honing my skills and getting better at spotting the signs before the fact. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don't.

But when I don't, at least I know I'll have another shot at it next time I'm there..