Sunday, July 28, 2013

Sneaky Email, etc.

An email arrived which pretended to be from DHL.  I think the subject said, "Order Shipped", and it looked all DHL with the colorful logo and such.  They claimed the attempted delivery but no one was home.

A tracking number was listed, which was link that tried to get you to download a thing that you then have to open.  They also had just that in the email body as well.

Just prior to the final step I noticed the files were .exe and that is not a good thing to open unless you know what it does and that you want that.  I trashed it, then went to the DHL site.  They had a warning about this email.  I noticed it off to the right after entering the bogus tracking number.  DHL aid that was not a legit tracking number.

No big surprise because I didn't order anything.  Of course, I never discount the possibility of an unexpected package from friend or foe.  I have told friend and family, repeatedly, just end it via US post office to the PO Box, but one person always tries to end wild stuff UPS.

I worked for UPS for a short few months in Greensboro.  They have a hub there.  Most dangerous facility since my dad's backyard speargun factory where all the labor was done by kid from 6 to 18.   I did it all by the time I was 18.  Sometimes I'd hire a friend to help.  Only one or two of my friends from grade school on were capable of doing the work and doing it as long a it took to get the job done.

So, for 80% of the time between age 15 and 18 I did it all.  Not that this is relevant to the topic, other than that would be illegal now.  It was not a happy time or a happy place, but it could have been.  In any case, even now I would oppose any intrusion by the state on such an operation.

In their exuberance, the state can often mistake a jerk for a hard core abuser.  By doing this, the kid gets none of the redeeming value the jerk has to offer.  Only the jerk part.  I'm glad I was able to come away with something more than just a jerk parent.    I just wish I had not somehow become the sponge for all the sadness in the family, not of my making.  It is a if I subconsciously thought I could take the sadness away and put it all in me so everyone would be OK.  Except me, but that didn't matter.

I have yet to permanently shake the sadness, or the low evaluation of my worth.  It comes and goes.
get drunk on beer when nursing children
Anyway, that UPS place appeared to have been designed by someone who forgot to account for the fact that human beings would be working there.  There were cool conveyor belt highways that resembled big city overpasses with bridges over bridges over bridges.  They had stations up there where people did tasks unknown to me; until one of the highways had a pile up.

A box would get off to the side and snag on something, and pretty soon boxes pile up and even fall off, down on a road going elsewhere.  The solution?  Someone would leave the task unknown to me, get behind the jam, brace himself and kick the boxes.  Many reached the bottom looking like accordions.

The drivers for UPS are not like that.  They have high demands put on them, but they don't just throw packages at your door as they pass to make up time.  In the hub they do the equivalent of that in a myriad of ways.

I knew owners of very small manufacturing operations who were harassed by state OSHA agencies for not having an exit sign above the only door out of a one room building.  small building.  More than one case of similar nitpicking nonsense.  These were well run, safe places.  The last thing the owners of these firms needed was for employees to get hurt.   Not profitable, not in their self interest.

The number of hazards at the freight hub was huge.  It is clear that those who have the big bucks to help campaigns and participate in government/business partnerships are not held to the same standard.

That was long ago.  I'm sure it has all been cleaned up now.  Corruption and dishonesty in institutions funded by tax money collected at gunpoint is a thing of the past.

I love this San Diego mayor.  He's the best thing since Sergio in Miami a little over 20 years ago.  That is hard to do.  Sergio was county manager, I think. They had this county wide sort of government.  Metro-Dade.  The usual issues resulted from too much centralization.  But, par for the course, they think the answer is more of the same which caused the problem.

Sergio and his city hall cohorts got busted for regularly buying stolen suits and other high end clothes from somebody in a truck who would meet them at some fairly regular time.  Often the original store tags were still there.  The store that either got ripped off, or their shipment got stolen.

Serg and the gang prided themselves on dressing well.  How could they know someone doing retail designer-wear business out of the back of a truck in back alleys may be a crook?  The Hiassen commentaries in the Miami Herald at the time were indescribably funny and on the mark.  It mad it fun to live in Miami for that period.

Cliff has been playing a song I wrote--No More Mr Nice Guy.  I wrote it in Memphis but would not let that band have it because of the way things were done.  I'm surprised that it gets such a good reception.  It is a silly song and not something I'd think was good.

Here's the chorus of the song:  no more mr nice guy, no more mr easy, call me mr spice guy, call me mr sleazy.

The rest of the song talks about this guy's wife or girlfriend who was happy until she started watching Oprah and Dr Phil.   I think it was actually a magazine cover that triggered the thought, though.  She hears things like, "Is your love life stagnating?", etc.   And they have all these ideas for "spicing up life in the bedroom".  None of it stuff she or her husband do----(because it is probably STOOPITT)--and even though she's happy, she's convinced she must really be lacking.  Got to watch out for those who make money off of people's problems.  They will often lead you to believe you have a problem when you don't.

The song is not an opinion narrative like the above.  Maybe that is why it works.   I don't remember all the words. It is somehow rewarding to play on song you wrote, but the singer knows it far better than you.

So, in the song, he's trying to keep the woman happy.  I wish him the best of luck.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
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