McEmergency

Dear Congressman,

I am sure there are times that you have had to meet and field questions from people that made you wonder how they managed to accomplish the feat of tying their own shoes that morning. Here is another example of such an individual.


ALOHA, Ore. – An Oregon man spent Memorial Day in jail after dialing 911 (999 in the UK) to complain that a McDonald's worker was rude and didn't give him an orange juice he ordered. The individual was accused of improper use of the emergency telephone number.

The Oregonian newspaper reports that the 20-year-old bailed out of the Washington County Jail on Tuesday and could not be reached for comment.

A Washington County Sheriff's Sgt. said the individual ignored deputies who told him the emergency number isn't to be used for straightening out fast-food orders.

A McDonald's employee also called 911 during the incident to complain that the individual and the people with him were blocking the drive-thru lane and knocking on the restaurant windows.


So, we have two identical problems here.

First, the individual who does not understand conceptually understand the true nature of emergency. Just for the record, there are probably very few laws on the books against rude behavior. I personally have been treated abusively by a fast food employee, but being that I planned on consuming whatever they gave me in the bag I thought it best not to upset them further, lest I end up eating something usually dished up on the TV show "Fear Factor".

Second, when did blocking a drive through lane and knocking on a window comprise an emergency situation? He probably would have gotten away with the phone call to 911 if the McDonald's employee hadn't called the same number to complain about their rowdy behavior, so if I was the Police on the scene I would have arrested both callers. Last time I looked, most Police and Sheriff departments have a non-emergency phone number in the local phone book. And if the McDonald's management did not have this number posted somewhere....well.... hey, there's an idea for ya!

Is it really that difficult...

Dear Congressman,

I will be the first to admit that on occasion I will come to this forum and rant on topics that are of absolute no interest to you. This is one of those days....

I would like to address this blog entry to the young man in the noisy bondo-covered Chevy Cavalier who was riding my rear bumper so closely I felt inclined to offer him a breath mint. However, upon reflection, I have serious doubts as to whether this fine upstanding citizen has spent much of his adolescence in pursuit of the expansion of his literary proficiency, except in rare cases where he eagerly dived into his dusty rarely used copy of Websters Dictionary to ensure that his latest tattoo was in fact spelled correctly.

In cases where we are on a highway and Mr. Nascar fan decides to draft my bumper I simply flip the turn signaling device on my vehicle to indicate that I am clearing a path for him to resume his attempted recreation of George Miller's Mad Max/Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior and then continue on my merry way. The problem in this case is we were in a suburban neighborhood where the speed limit was 25 miles per hour. This individual clearly felt that somewhere around 50 miles per hour was an acceptable alternative in lieu of my observation of local traffic ordinances.

To understand my perspective, it is best explained in this way:

If you as a parent or a pet owner let your children or beloved Fido/Mimi play on the freeway/highway/motorway, then Darwin's theories of natural selection apply and I am fully entitled to plow them over with my car, while all the while trying to minmize the damage to my personal vehicle. However, if you allow your childen and/or to play/roam on your local neighborhood street where the speed limit is their for their protection, then the minimum expectation on my part is that I watch for them and proceed at a speed that will allow me to react in time in the case they step out in front of me.

There was a very good radio ad that ran in England last year. It was the sound of a car hitting a kid at 35mph, then silence. Then the announcer states that the next sound is a car hitting a kid at 25mph, with a thump followed by loud crying.

The ending message: if you hit a child while driving at 35mph, there is an 80% chance that you will kill that child. If you hit a child while driving at 25mph, there is an 80% chance that the child will survive.

Your call, tattooed backward yankee cap dude......

A Memorial Day observation

Dear Congressman,

I trust that you had an enjoyable weekend with you family during the Memorial Day weekend. Since my brother served in Iraq I try to take the time to thank the members of the US military who sacrifice so much for our personal freedom.

With that said, I think many war veterans get a raw deal from the country that is willing to give them a day a year but not the medical care they deserve.

In my naivete, I had hoped that Vietnam was the last major conflict that the men and women in uniform would have to suffer from the after effects of the experience of war. However, with the Iraq conflict, their is an entire generation younger than myself or my peers that have just begun their struggle against post traumatic stress disorder brought on by the events of the war that they have shouldered on our behalf.

This weekend, Cathleen Whitley wrote an excellent opinion in the LA Times that drove home this point. I would recommend reading it as, in my opinion, it hits home very directly.

We as a nation are great at thanking our veterans with a hand shake and a free round at the local bar, but when the fanfare dies down and the soldier is back in civilian life, we fail them at the time of their greatest need, the need to remove the shame associated with PTSD and recognize that it is not a sign of weakness, but an increasingly ignored cry for help.

My dream for Memorial Day in ten years time? That I don't drive by a city park inhabited by homeless vets that we shook hands with and bought rounds of beer for those ten years earlier.

Charge it.... or just shoot it, my good man!

(Please note that this is written in 21st century Victorian, translation is below)

My Dear Congressman,

I send this dispatch with sincere thoughts and prayers that it finds you and the beloved members of your domicile of excellent constitution and of favorable disposition. In reference to my own ignoble circumstances, I would be of dubious manner to make declaration of that matters of social and financial natures were not of an acceptable character in the present juncture, so it is with all vivacity that I report to you the amiableness from which I currently preside.

I feel I would be remiss as your most meek and humble servant if I were not to bring to your attention a concern, though minor in its intrinsic disposition, that raises the question of the willingness of the political establishment for which you honorably serve to dutifully focus upon the veracious requirements of the people of this good and bountiful land. It is but a trivial matter, but no truer its existence does but demonstrate this very inclination toward so vile and deceiving a practice.

During my morning ritual of reflection and contemplation of the various sources of information made available to myself, I have become aware that your accomplished and well-meaning colleagues have rightfully judged it of utmost necessary to curb the depraved and contemptuous practices of the money lending establishments, lest they continue to turn virtuous and wholesome people of this land into mere shells of themselves, only good for chains and drab tides that debtor's prison will so surely bring them. One of your compatriots did not share of this conviction so freely, as they saw opportunity of a selfish and prejudiced denomination. To that of which I speak, already know to you, is the brackish codicil that against good taste and common sentiment would sanction rogues and boors of an unsavory sort to cavort in our most prized National landmarks while ladened with accoutrements for purposes unknown.

I sincerely beg of your Grace, please advocate to your esteemed journeymen with the most expedient tone and strength of heart that the addendum is of a caliber not worthy of consideration of merit that would be due from a celebrated and exceptional assemblage such as the category your peers are presumed to be akin.

I remain your loyal and humble servant,



Translation:

Dear Congressman,

How are you? I am fine.

Got a complaint. Nothing big.

The credit card bill is good. Tacking on a rider allowing firearms in National Parks is crap.

Tell everyone.

Later,

Why I hate looking for lawyers (part 2)

Dear Congressman,

To continue from Friday's search, I called another local Butler county law office to find an attorney to take care of filing the form I need for inventory on probate. Here was the conversation last Friday:

Receptionist: Greade, Greade, and Fehr, Penelope speaking, how can I help you.

Me: Hi Penelope, I found your law firm in the yellow pages and I am looking for someone to file a form I need for my probate inventory.

Penelope: Mr. Wolf handles probate matters in the office but he has left for the day. If you leave your name and number I can have him call you on Monday morning?.

Me: Thanks Penelope.

I look at my watch and notice that it is only 2:45. Must be nice to be able to keep bankers hours.


Lets fast forward to Monday. It is now 3:30 in the afternoon and still no return call from Mr. Wolf. Thus I dial the phone.

Receptionist: Greade, Greade, and Fehr, Penelope speaking, how can I help you.

Me: Hi Penelope, I called on Friday regarding a probate inventory matter and, I believe it was you, referred me to a Mr. Wolf, who was going to return my call this morning. However, I haven't heard from him so I am just following up.

(definite pause)

Penelope: Mr. Wolf is currently at lunch. Would you like me to take your name and number and have him call you after he returns.

Me: (puzzled) Yes, thank you , Penelope.

Now, for the record, I googled this guy. Mr. Wolf is a junior member of the law firm with only a couple years of experience, so I seriously doubt he is still at lunch at 3:30 in the afternoon. That kind of longevity of dining hours is reserved for senior partners only.

So unless I hear from Mr. Wolf sometime this afternoon it is back to the drawing board....

sigh....

Why I hate looking for lawyers

Dear Congressman,

Since your background is not law I will take the liberty of using this forum to vent about something other than your six pack a day smoking habit.

Since the passing of my mother, I have spent copious amounts of time working on the probate of her estate. As part of this I am required to sell her condo, which is being fixed up as we speak and getting ready to go out on an already glutted Cincinnati real estate market.

As part of the probate process in Butler County, a certification is required that shows that the property deed for real property in Probate was examined by an attorney. Everything else a lay person can do, however an attorney must perform this task.

Since I have never had occasion to retain council, I broke out the old yellow pages and began the search for local attorneys that advertised handling probate matters. I found several, wrote down there information, and decided to make calls last Friday to see if I could have one perform the task in question.

The first one I contacted was a small local Hamilton Ohio firm that appears to practice in the area that was of my personal interest. Here is a transcript of that call. (the name of the firm has been changed to protect... well.... me!)

Receptionist at Law Firm: Dewey, Cheatem, & Howe, this is Claudette speaking, how can I direct your call?

Me: Good afternoon, I have probate matter that requires a filing of a document with the Probate Court by an attorney and wondered if .....

Claudette (cutting me off in mid sentence in a very icy tone): I'm sorry, we don't give out free legal advice over the phone. You will have to come in to meet with someone. Hold on, let me check next week's schedule.

(Hold music begins to play)

Claudette: Mr. Cheatem has an opening on Tuesday morning or Thursday afternoon.

Me: What time on Tuesday morning as I have to come up from the airport to...

Claudette: (again, not letting me fully finish my thought) that would be at 11:00am.

Me: No, I a meeting that I can't reschedule and by Thursday I was hoping to have this matter completed so I will have to decline. Good day.

Click.....

Soccer Theatre

Dear Congressman,

As you are well aware, my family immigrated to the US back in the late 60's, with my father accepting a job at the General Electric Evendale aviation facility. We have all become naturalized citizens, however the passion for that sport panned in the US but loved worldwide remains with us, as my father and I still regularly try to get together to watch an English soccer match on weekends.

This season in the English Premier League, they instituted a fair play policy that made it a penalizable offense if someone other than the team captain complains to the referee.

However, this rule has not been instituted in the rest of European, so the affect has been that to see some really bad acting jobs you must now tune into the Italian or Spanish leagues. Here is a breakdown of the routine you will see throughout the European Leagues.


The referee has just blown the whistle to signal a foul. There are two common scenarios playing out now:

Offending player: The player who caused the foul at first acts nonchalant as the whistle is blown, stopping to turn and look toward the referee slowly.
Then, in a stroke of true performance, he gazes at the referee with a look of complete astonishment that the foul has been called against him.
After holding the look of incongruity as long as possible, he runs up to the referee to attempt to get him to change his mind. The incongruity is now morphing into anger, as the player stands very close to the referee establishing that 1) the ref has been out to get him the entire game, 2) the opposing team has committed more unrecognized offenses that the player will now list for the referee (not unlike the amazing recollection of events instantly quotable by your wife when you are arguing with her) and 3) that the ref is in fact responsible for everything that is wrong with the state of the economy and is the most despicable person on the planet.
Within 15 seconds of the rant starting, several teammates come in to assist the player with their thoughts and hand gestures for the referee to enjoy, which at this point the whole scene begins to look like a trading pit at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. In spite of the continued efforts of the player and his teammates, history has demonstrated clearly that these tactics have failed in leading to a reversal of the decision approximately 100% of the time in the last 120 years.
Once this piece of theatre is complete, the team disperses to defend against the free kick, while the original offending player moves quickly into the contempt phase of his performance, choosing to either completely ignore the referee or inform another player on the pitch of the alleged loose morals of the referee's mother.

Fouled Player: This performance, while requiring more physical skills, is actually an easier task then the offending player's role. In this case, whether the offending player lightly tapped him on the knee or shot him with a revolver, his job is to fall to the ground like he has been shot out of a canon and writhe around in agony only surpassed by someone suffering from the effects of the bubonic plague. Once he have done this for 10-30 seconds and the referee has come over to see if he is done acting or, in rare cases, actually does require the assistance of a physician, the fouled player must switch into accusation mode, lashing out at the offending player and explaining quickly to the ref that the extent of your injuries and potential loss of future livelihood makes it an undeniable requirement that the ref show a red card to the offending player and have him escorted off the field immediately.
Once back on his feet, the fouled player must hobble around for at least 2-4 minutes before resuming regular play for proper emphasis.

And you thought playing soccer was easy.....