Showing posts with label computers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label computers. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

He’s Thirteen – That’s Ninety-One in Internet Years

Big news here at Just a Smidge World Headquarters – Son Number Three is turning thirteen next month, and you know what that means! No, not that.

It means he’s only a few weeks away from computer independence! That makes sense, since under the HIPAA laws, he became medically independent last year at age twelve. It only follows that he would gain his digital independence, also.

I just can’t believe those two things don’t happen on the same birthday. It seems kinda mean to tell him he has full control over his medical records and decisions, but not give him unfettered access to the internet at the same time. I guess logic hasn’t caught up with this branch of our government yet.

Now, I must admit that up until a few weeks ago I wasn’t fully aware of his impending digital freedom. Microsoft was kind enough to send me an email about it:

This 13th birthday brings some changes. Son Number Three is getting older, so we wanted to give you a heads up about some changes coming to their account. Privacy laws in your region make it so they have more control over different settings on their account, so it’s a good opportunity to talk about what this means for your whole family.

Ahh, privacy laws in my region. That makes sense. We can’t have the thirteen-year-olds around these parts getting online and being dogged by their parents all day. These young adults need the God- and government-given freedom to go explore the dark corners of the internet on their own.

Microsoft went on to explain what my son gets for his thirteenth birthday, besides horribly traumatized, of course:

Stuff that's changing:

Activity reporting

They can turn off your ability to see their activity on Windows 10 and Xbox One devices, or Android devices running Microsoft Launcher.

Oh, excellent. Right off the bat this is sounding super logical. Heaven forbid I would get to see what my child is doing on their computer.

Device health

They can turn off your ability to see their device and check on updates, hard drive usage, or safety settings like firewall and anti-virus protection.

I guess that makes sense. For a year now he has been able to go take care of any human viruses on his own over at the doctor’s office, so why not let him choose whether we let in any computer viruses as well. I’m sure he’ll make good decisions.

Find your child

They can stop sharing their location through their Windows 10 phone or Android device running Microsoft Launcher.

Again, kudos on the logic here. Why would I want to be able to find my own child? I mean, he might have a secret doctor’s appointment and doesn’t want me following him. Makes sense.

Then Microsoft doubled down on all this good thirteen-year-old logic:

Is this birthdate wrong? Have them update it.

Yes, again, good call. If the birthday is wrong, let’s let the young child handle all the fixing.

“Son, the internet thinks you’re older than you are. Can you log onto your Microsoft account real quick and change your birthday to be younger so you don’t get into anything you shouldn’t? Thanks a bunch, buddy!”

At the end of the email, Microsoft provided me with perhaps the most useful suggestions of all:

Help them celebrate

Add money to their Microsoft account

Get a game that they've been checking out in the Microsoft Store

Useful for Microsoft, I mean.

Well, enjoy your unfettered access to the World Wide Web, son. See you at the psychiatrist’s office.

Oh, wait. You’re over twelve. I guess I won’t.

 

See you soon,

-Smidge

 

Copyright © 2021 Marc Schmatjen

 

Your new favorite T-shirt is at SmidgeTees

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Wednesday, February 10, 2021

There's a Problem with Facebook

Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to report on a potentially serious problem I discovered last night. No, not that I’m so old I can hurt myself by sleeping wrong. I already knew about that problem. I’m talking about Facebook. I think it might have a huge glitch.

I got into bed last night, and as usual, said my prayers for an injury-free night of sleep. I was just about to close my eyes when I noticed the blue glow of a computer screen coming from my office down the hall. Realizing I had forgotten to shut my computer down, I hauled myself out of bed and headed down the hall to turn it off.

I got back into bed forty-five minutes later.

When I got to my computer, Facebook was up on the browser. I went to shut the computer off, but Facebook made me name my rock band first by combining the color of my underwear with the last thing I ate. We are the Blue and White Nachos. I was then forced to pick between four different trays of delicious fried food. There was a crawfish and fries tray, a wings and tater tots tray, a garlic bread and mac ’n cheese tray, and a mini burgers and fries tray. It was a very difficult decision that I agonized over for a while, but ultimately I had to go with the wings and tater tots because of my love of the tot.

I was then told that my earlobes were the same distance apart as my nipples, so I had to go check that in the mirror and it was a lie. I went back to shut off the computer but I had to take an ‘80s movie challenge first. The question was simply how many of the twenty movies listed had I seen, but the average score was shown as thirty-nine percent, which was ridiculous. I murdered that score. I had seen all of them except one. I then had to email myself a reminder to finally see Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

I went back to the browser to shut off Facebook but before I could I had to watch a ten-minute animated video on how Pablo Escobar spent his billions of dollars in drug money. That was followed by a Mexican restaurant life hack video where you get a Styrofoam to-go container, but instead of taking your tacos home, you pour your margarita in there and then punch a little straw hole in the top of the lid. I was making a mental note to tell my wife about the margarita trick, and also about how Pablo Escobar had two submarines and his own zoo, but got sidetracked by some kid going absolutely crazy at a Georgia Tech welcome speech, followed by the first seven minutes of Conan O’Brien’s 2011 Dartmouth commencement address.

The rabbit hole had quite a few twists and turns from there, ultimately terminating in a video of a guy cutting a frozen bass out of an iced-over lake with a chainsaw. When he got the chunk of bass-filled ice free and pulled it out, there was a frozen pike underneath with its teeth clamped to the tail end of the bass.

At that point, as I glazed over wondering just how fast that lake actually froze over, my mouse cursor was finally able to reach all the way up to the log out button, and I was finally able to shut my computer down. I’m not even sure how it happened, but I was simply unable to get out of the Facebook program until that point. Due to this programming flaw, whatever it is, I lost almost a full hour of sleep.

I hope you’re not experiencing the same problem with your Facebook account, but being that it’s a web-based program, I suspect you might be. I really think we ought to let someone over there at Facebook HQ know about this so they can look into it.

I think they’ll be genuinely surprised at how much of our time they’re accidentally wasting!

See you soon,

-Smidge

 

Copyright © 2021 Marc Schmatjen

 

Your new favorite T-shirt is at SmidgeTees

Your new favorite book is from SmidgeBooks

Your new favorite humor columnist is on Facebook Just a Smidge

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

We Put the "IT" in School District

It seems our Rocklin, CA teachers are currently at odds with the school district over some aspect of their contract. I would have to assume it’s about salary and/or benefits, because, honestly, if you’re getting all the money you want, you don’t tend to argue with your boss too much. Anyway, they seem to be at a stalemate in their contract negotiations.

I have mixed feelings about the issue of teachers’ salaries. Before I became an author with flexible hours and an unnervingly flexible pay scale, I had real jobs with steady paychecks, and we only got two or maybe three weeks of vacation each year. Teachers have the only job I know of where you get sixteen paid weeks off every year, so on the one hand, I think, pipe down!

On the other hand, I think all teachers should make ten times more than what they are being paid, because besides parenting, they are doing the most important job on the planet. (And in many cases, they are doing the parenting and the teaching, because many “adults” tend to outsource the parenting job by default in favor of malt liquor.)

(I also tend to think teachers should be paid more because my wife is a teacher, and I want a boat.)

I don’t know the particulars of the stalemate, but I do know one thing: based on the metric ton of property taxes I pay, along with the regular taxes, our school district should have more money than Uruguay. I don’t know where all the money goes, but I certainly know where the money is not going. It’s not being spent on the district’s IT department.

If any money was going into IT, they would certainly be able to afford someone who could fix their communications department. Even someone with the tiniest bit of knowledge about computers and one or two iotas of common sense could fix what is obviously broken.

Here’s my problem:

Last week the school district wanted my opinion on their new English Language Arts curriculum. (That’s what they call English now. I assume they have long-term plans to eventually drop the “English” from the title and just call it Language Arts. That way we can stop being so insistent on it always having to be taught in English. Time will tell.)

Anyway, they sent me an email with a link to a survey. That’s where a normal IT department would have stopped. Not at our district!

Moments after the email arrived, they called me and left a voicemail about the fact that they sent me an email.

Mere seconds after the voicemail about the email hit my inbox, they sent me a text message - to the same phone number that they left the voicemail on - to tell me that they left a voicemail about the email. I am not making this up.

Then they sent me another email (again, I’m not making this up, I swear!) to tell me that they just left me a voicemail to let me know that they sent me an email.

Twice.

They do every single one of those things twice because I have two kids at the elementary school. The same elementary school! Last year I got all of them three times, because all three boys were there.

Three separate emails. Three separate voicemails alerting me to the emails. Three separate text messages alerting me to the voicemails regarding the emails. And three separate follow-up emails alerting me to the fact that they left me three separate voicemails about the original three separate emails.

But they only let me take the survey once.

If they can’t come up with the money for a new IT hire, maybe they could look into a sixth-grade internship. Even the kid who sits in the back of the class and eats his boogers could do better than this.  

See you soon,

-Smidge


Copyright © 2018 Marc Schmatjen


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Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Soaked by Printer Ink

My mother-in-law gave me printer ink for Christmas. Some people are just better gift givers than others. There is simply no better gift for a writer than a full printer cartridge. We writers print a lot of stuff, and most of us are broke. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if printer ink wasn’t apparently made out of liquid platinum and powdered diamonds.

In the shady world of “factory-authorized” parts, there is no group more skilled in the fine art of price gouging than computer printer manufacturers and their ink, with HP leading the league.

I think if we were forced to buy drinking water from HP it would go something like this:
The super-cool stainless steel flip-top sippy straw container would cost 99 cents, and would come “pre-filled” with water, but really only filled 25%.
Refilling the container with delicious HP water would cost roughly $6000 per sip.
The flip-top sippy straw would immediately close and lock if the bottle was ever filled with tap water, and you would receive a corporately polite, yet obviously testy “courtesy email” from HP reminding you that your state-of-the-art HP water bottle can only perform correctly with genuine HP fluids.

We have an HP Photosmart printer that takes six separate ink cartridges. Why? Because I print a lot of high-quality, high-gloss photos that I take on my cell phone camer… No, that’s not it. I really only ever want to print in black and white. We have this printer because friends gave it to us for free when our old one stopped working. Six separate ink cartridges you ask? Why, yes. That would be Black, Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, Light Cyan, and Light Magenta. Hmm… Light Cyan and Light Magenta? I guess HP couldn’t figure out how to just use less regular Cyan when the print called for a lighter blue.

Just in case you got the notion that you didn’t need all those different colors, HP found a way to prove you wrong. On the face of each cartridge there is a raised plastic molded shape, like the preschool peg-in-hole star and half-moon shapes. Each color has a unique shape that has to line up with that same shaped hole in the printer body before the cartridge will seat properly, preventing you from substituting Cyan for, let’s say, Light Cyan. I know this is obviously not a ploy to restrict my freedom of choice if I am the type of person who could care less about color accuracy. I’m sure it’s a well-meaning way for HP to protect its good name in case I would have the gall to swap colors and make outrageous accusations about them printing mottled browns instead of vibrant greens. It is obviously not just a way to make me buy more ink cartridges. They would never do that.

Although… My printer did seem to get pretty testy a while back when I tried to put a cheaper refilled ink cartridge in it. (By cheaper, I mean cheaper the way buying one hamburger at a McDonald’s in town is cheaper than buying all the McDonald’s franchises in town.) I received an error message telling me, in essence, to get that interloping piece of non-gold-plated garbage out of there at once, or the printer may be forced to explode just to teach me a lesson about brand loyalty. The Corleone family could learn a thing or two from HP.

Undeterred, I did manage to find the LD brand of “remanufactured” ink cartridges that work in the printer and don’t require taking out a second mortgage to acquire. Take that, HP! My printer no longer threatens me with inaction or malfunction, but I did receive a pretty shady message from its LCD screen the other day.

Warning: Printer ink cartridge expiring.
Please replace, or hit arrow key for more details.
When I hit the arrow key, I got this condescending follow-up message:
The warranty will not be honored for damage due to expired cartridges. Press OK to continue anyway.

It no longer threatens me directly, I guess I should say. We’ve moved to vague threats about possible damage and warranty waiving “if, God forbid, sumptin should happen to this beautiful printer yous gots here.”

Come on guys! You already try to get me to replace the cartridges six weeks early as it is. You start warning me about low ink levels and suggesting cartridge replacement 500 pages before it actually runs out, and even then, I’m not really sure if it did or not, because I never get to see the words slowly get dimmer and then disappear off the page. The last page out of the printer looks perfect and then you just refuse to print anymore, citing an empty cartridge. What am I to do but take your word for it?

“Empty” cartridges or not, this expiration thing is a new low. I mean, really fellas? I’m not buying cartridges fast enough for you? Now you're trying to scare me with threats about disavowing my warranty because I apparently don't use my Light Magenta as often as you'd like? That’s pretty weak.

If you really want me to use more ink, why don’t you just make me print “test pages” every week or so, using a thinly-veiled ruse of “needing to check the printer alignment,” as if that’s even a thing. You could also double down on that idea and require “test pages” every time I change an ink cartridge. And no matter what cartridge I changed, each one of these “test pages” could use an inordinate amount of all the ink colors, so much so that the page is limp and wet when it comes out of the printer, making me afraid to get it near my clothes or the furniture.

Oh, wait… You already do that.

See you soon,

-Smidge


Copyright © 2014 Marc Schmatjen


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Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Java Cloud


Albert Einstein once said, “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.” On that note, I would like someone at Oracle to explain Java to me. And, I would also like someone at Java to explain Oracle to me.

About once a week, my computer alerts me to the fact that my Java desperately needs to be upgraded. Apparently, Java is made by Oracle. Oracle is a computer software company, I think, although I have never been truly sure what they do. All I really know is they have an office complex near my house, with signs at the street that say Oracle. I assume they are rather successful, since the place is pretty big, and the signs at the street are really nice, and their founder bought Hawaii last year.

Java is something they make, or made, or do, I think. They are vague on that subject. When they notify me that my Java is out of date, they say this: “There is a Java update available. Java provides safe and secure access to the world of amazing Java content.”

Great, so if I install Java, or update my existing Java, I can look at Java safely, in a secure manner.

Then they give me even more reason to update. “From business solutions to helpful utilities and entertainment, Java makes your internet experience come to life.”

OK, now we’re getting somewhere. My internet experience will come to life. So Java is involved in the internet somehow, with business, entertainment, and utilities. Internet-based business and entertainment utilities, perhaps.

Finally they explain it. “3 Billion Devices Run Java. Computers, Printers, Routers, Cell Phones, Blackberry, Kindle, Parking Meters, Public Transportation Passes, ATMs, Credit Cards, Home Security Systems, Cable Boxes, TVs...”

OK, we are finally there. Lots of other stuff besides my computer uses Java. Parking meters, for instance. And my credit card. And my TV. Loads and loads of things are benefiting from this safe and helpful entertaining business utility experience, made possible by all this amazing Java content.

Thanks, Ora-java-cle, you’ve made it perfectly clear why I need whatever it is that you are doing to my computer. Actually, I’m being sarcastic. It’s not clear at all. It’s actually perfectly cloudy. That’s another thing I don’t understand, by the way. The cloud.

I think at this point all my computer-based activities and data are in a cloud of some kind. Much like Java, I keep hearing about it, but I have no idea what it is. Everybody has a cloud these days. I’m not sure if they are all separate clouds or one big one. I would imagine they are separate, since Apple has a cloud, and I’m sure they don’t use the same one as everybody else. Theirs would have to be special, since it needs to be called the iCloud, and has to be perfectly puffy and white. Everyone else’s is probably gray and costs half as much. Who knows?

What I do know is that whoever came up with the term “cloud,” and decided to run with it, needs a lesson in marketing. “Carbonite keeps what's important to you safe in the cloud.” When was the last time you thought to yourself, “I need to keep this item safe and secure, free from harm and theft. I think I’ll store it in a cloud.”

Never? Thought so.

The only good thing associated with clouds is rain, and rain is only considered good in certain situations. Crops, yes. Torrential downpours and flooding, no. Rain has never been considered good for computers and phones, and the concept of “raining down” is not very attractive when it comes to your data. You don’t want your bank statements and the pictures of your family raining down out of the cloud all over Eastern Europe. Not good. Also, clouds are made of vapor. Vapor is another thing that you rarely want to associate with things that you wish to retrieve someday.

“How’s the outlook, Bob?”
“Great! The future looks really cloudy.”
“Super! Can I get that sales report from you?”
“Absolutely. It got vaporized.”

Whatever it is and however it works, we need a new, more reassuring name than the cloud. How about, “the vault?”

“Carbonite keeps what's important to you safe in the vault.” Now that’s more like it.

I’m not sure if my Java updates are coming from the cloud or not, but I do know they seem to be coming more frequently these days. I think I might know why, too. With every Java update lately, there is a pop-up screen with the “next” button, and the screen has a check box with "Install the Ask Toolbar and make Ask my default search provider." The check box is small, innocuous, and conveniently already checked for me.

Hmmm…

Could it be that the cloud has delivered this Java-rific update to me simply so that Oracle can try to trick me into using their internet search tool? It’s tough to tell, because Oracle was kind enough to sum up why I need this latest update by telling me this: “By installing Java, you will be able to experience the power of Java, brought to you by Oracle.”

Hmmm…

Back to Einstein’s quote, “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.” Now, I’m not naïve enough to think that Oracle doesn’t understand what their own products do, so I have to conclude that old Albert left out an important second option. If you decline to explain it simply, even though you can, you’re probably trying to hide something.

I’m starting to think these Java updates with their cloudy explanations are just an elaborate ruse to get me to use Ask.com. That begs the next question: Does Oracle own Ask.com or is Ask a separate company that paid Oracle to push their service on me?

Good question. I think I’ll Google it.

See you soon,

-Smidge


Copyright © 2013 Marc Schmatjen


Check out The Smidge Page on Facebook. We like you, now like us back!

Also visit Marc’s Amazon.com Author Page  for all his books. Enjoy!

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Computer Illiterate


Computers are funny. Short of perhaps, toilets, we rely on computers more than any other device today. Actually, I take that back. We could live without toilets if we had to. I mean, we all have backyards, right? Computers on the other hand, have become essential, yet almost no one knows how they work. If you look at our population as a whole, only a minute fraction of us actually know why and how computers work. The rest of us just use them.

Compared to my mom, I am an IT professional. And compared to most people over 80 years old, I’m Bill Gates. But that does not mean that I really know anything at all about computers, and chances are, neither do you. You may think you’re computer literate, but are you really? Can you look at the registry and spot an error? Do you really know what BIOS is? You might know what it stands for, but do you really know what it is? Do you have any idea what the company Oracle even does? I didn’t think so. Neither do I.

I would be willing to bet that even the most un-mechanical person knows more about the inner workings of their car than they do about their computer. I happen to know a lot about cars and how they work, but here’s what an auto-related problem would look like if my car expertise was as sub-par as my computer expertise:

Car stops driving correctly all of a sudden with a loud bang.
Pull over on the side of the road.
Turn it off and turn it back on.
Pull back out onto the road.
Same problem.
Pull over again.
Turn it off and turn it back on.
Try to drive again.
Same problem.
Pull over and get out.
Stand right next to the blown and shredded driver’s side front tire, oblivious to what the problem is.
Call someone to come and fix my unknown problem for me. “Car won’t go. Don’t know why.”

The thing that got me thinking about all this was a familiar pop-up message the other day, from the lower right corner of my computer screen.

“Adobe Flash Player needs to be updated. Click here to continue.”

I, of course, click on the message and say, OK. I feel like I have to, because the message didn’t say “would like to update,” it said “needs to be updated.” I take them at their word.

The update begins, which takes up my time. I am forced to answer inane questions like, “Is this the destination folder you would like?” What am I going to say? No? If that is the destination folder that you guys who wrote this software think this update should go, then who am I to argue?

Downloading commences, and the familiar status bar begins to fill from left to right, giving me something to do while I wait. Look, we’re over 50% complete! Yippee!

When it has finished downloading, it immediately begins installation. One hundred percent-filled status bar later, it tells me the installation was successful. Then it shares some other news with me.

Not only did it apparently update the Adobe Flash Player like it said it needed to do, but it also went ahead and installed Google Toolbar on my Microsoft Internet Explorer without asking me if that was OK. It also tried to install Google Chrome without asking, but it failed to do so, because I already had it installed.

Imagine if this computer was my car:

I hop into my Ford Expedition and open up the garage door. I start the car and am about to back down the driveway when I notice a Ford mechanic standing at my window.
He says he needs to change my fan belt right away.
I turn off the engine and let him get to work.
An hour later he knocks on the front door and says he changed the fan belt, and also replaced the rear cargo door on my Expedition with one from a Chevy Suburban. He tried to replace the steering wheel with one from a Suburban, too, but couldn’t get the bolts loose, so he put spinners on my rims instead.

Why is that scenario OK when it comes to computers?

Amazingly, at the end of my Adobe Flash Player update experience, I received this query:

Please pick 1 thru 5 stars to rate your experience with this update. Did this update accomplish everything you wanted it to? Yes/No

Well, let’s see. You told me you needed to update an Adobe product and then you installed two Google products onto my computer. I have no idea why I needed an update to the flash player, if you actually updated it, or even what the flash player does, so I guess I have to answer this way:

I don’t know what the update was supposed to accomplish in the first place. I didn’t want it, and I don’t know if I needed it. If this update miraculously kept my computer from crashing behind the scenes, then my answer to your question is yes.

On the other hand, if the “update” to the flash player was simply to change the name from 4.0 to 4.1 and the real reason for this exercise was that Google paid you a lot of money to install their products on my computer without my permission, then my answer is no.

I wish I knew enough to know if I should be mad or not.

See you soon,

-Smidge


Copyright © 2012 Marc Schmatjen


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Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth

Headline from the recent tech industry trade publication, Really Wired:

“Savvy IT Jock Uses Social Networking to Find his Idiot Boss “Better” Gig, Avoids Being Fired”

The following was taken from our reporter’s recent interview with “Mike” the IT guy:

Look, although I think I’m pretty justified in my actions, some of the things I did could be construed as illegal, or at least really unprofessional, so I don’t want to use my real name. Let’s call me “Mike,” and let’s call my idiot ex-boss “Frank.”

This all happened last Wednesday at the office. I was in the hallway on a ladder with my head up above the acoustical tiles re-routing some network cables in the ceiling near the wall of the break room. I heard my idiot boss, Frank, go into the break room for some coffee, and I overheard him mention in confidence to one of his idiot cronies that the IT staff was bloated, and he was cutting me loose at the end of the day, since I was the last one hired. The IT department was actually hopelessly understaffed, and Frank had been robbing our budget pretty regularly to cover the cost overruns from the marketing department’s monthly “Team Building Trips” to Las Vegas.

Now, I could have probably landed another job at a better company in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t bear the thought of this yahoo slamming my already overloaded IT buddies with the extra burden. I decided to get rid of him. The way I saw it, it was either him or me, and he messed with the wrong geek.

I put my network cable project on hold and went back to my terminal, logged on to GoDaddy.com, and bought the domain “TRGCorp.com.” I then banged out some really quick HTML code to create a dummy corporation’s home page, “about us” page, and “contact us” page. It was really third-grade type stuff. The whole thing took me twelve minutes. For the “corporate vision statement,” I just used the word synergy nineteen times in a paragraph with a bunch of other corporate-speak. “TRG Corporation has a synergistic, forward-focused, strategic synergy,” etcetera, etcetera. Frank eats that crap up.

Then I created two LinkedIn accounts. The first was Chet Manley, TRG’s Director of Global Development. For Chet’s profile picture, I scanned in the face of a male model from Cindy in accounting’s Abercrombie and Fitch shopping bag. Besides kicking butt internationally at TRG, Chet also enjoys golf, scuba diving, heli-skiing and triathlons. The next fake LinkedIn account was a corporate headhunter, Jennifer Fetching, from a major New York placement agency that Frank was sure to have heard of. For Jennifer’s profile picture I just used a Victoria’s Secret model from the active wear section of their website.

I then hit Frank’s LinkedIn account with five e-mails from Jennifer and four from Chet, back-dating them so it appeared as if they had both been trying to get ahold of him for a week. Jennifer was seriously considering him for a VP position at another top-rated global company, and she was very anxious to speak with him, because she knew he was being heavily recruited by TRG. Her last e-mail was deflated, as she explained that the position she had sought him for was gobbled up by another executive. If only they had been able to get in touch with each other earlier.

Chet couldn’t wait to talk with Frank, and was really “pumped” at the opportunity to get him on board with TRG. He had asked around with “everyone who matters,” and Frank was the perfect guy for their new VP slot.

Then I went to Facebook and found Frank’s friend list. I found the name of one of the guys I had heard him talk about playing golf with pretty regularly. His friend, Bob, was offline, so I quickly hacked his account by cloning the email address he had listed and resetting his password. Once I was in Bob’s account, I made sure that my boss was at his desk, and sent him an instant message from Bob saying, “Wow, Frank. I just heard through the grapevine that you were the top pick for the new VP slot at TRG. I’ve been watching them for years. That company is golden. Congratulations on the move! You’re a smart man!”

I then drafted a quick, fake inter-office memo from the CEO to all the upper management stating that “as we all know, TRG Corporation has been a thorn in our side for years, but lately they have been gaining some serious ground on us.” We needed to forward-focus our core competencies, harness our synergies, etcetera, “or TRG is going to end up owning us and all of our clients!”

I e-mailed the memo to Frank from the CEO’s mailbox, and counted to fifty. Then I made a call to Frank’s office and told him that the IT department had just updated the falangy valve on the McGruder switch, and some people were reporting problems logging into their company e-mail. Other people had reported problems with internet services like LinkedIn and other business-related networking sites. “Please check and make sure you are good, and get back to me if you have any problems.” Then I left the building.

I walked three blocks to the 7-11 and paid cash for a disposable cell phone. Then I went to the Starbucks on the next block and sat down in the corner, activated the phone, and called the office.

“Chet Manley for Frank Dumkopf”

Frank was very eager to talk with Chet. Chet explained that he had been out of the country, tying up some Chinese contracts, and was “totally slammed” until now with no time for a phone call. He had done his due diligence on Frank and wanted him on the TRG team, ASAP. Chet explained that he was a mover, not a sideline sitter, and knew that Frank was a man of action as well. Frank gushed about how he had been following TRG for years, and was totally in sync with their corporate vision statement. Chet explained that he was not big on a lot of interviews and meet-and-greets. If Chet sees something Chet wants, Chet gets it. Frank agreed that was the only way to operate. Chet told Frank to name his price. Frank did. Chet stifled a laugh, then told Frank, “Hell, Frank, a man’s gotta eat. Let’s double that! Welcome aboard. I want you at corporate tomorrow morning. Can you do that?”

Frank excitedly told Chet he would be there. I hung up the phone, wiped it down with a napkin, and threw it in the trash. I ordered a coffee and waited about a half-hour, then headed back to the office.

When I arrived, the receptionists and the Human Resources department were buzzing with the scuttlebutt. Frank had cleaned out his desk, sent a one-sentence resignation e-mail to the CEO and the head of HR, and walked out the door ten minutes ago.

“Weird,” I said, as I shrugged my shoulders and headed back to my desk. I logged into the company e-mail server and sent an e-mail from the generic “info@” address to our CEO with the subject line “Frank.” In the body I wrote, “Inconsistencies with marketing budget ‘team building’ expenses and IT budget reason for sudden departure?”

Then I deleted the fake website, cancelled the two fake LinkedIn accounts, logged off, and got back to my network cable project.

Like I said, he messed with the wrong geek.

The really funny thing was, I never put a corporate address on the website. I wonder where my idiot ex-boss tried to report to the next morning?

All of us here at Really Wired say, nice one, “Mike.”

See you soon,
-Smidge


Copyright © 2011 Marc Schmatjen


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