“No way Duuuuuuuude . . . this is not Washington, D.C. It’s District of Columbia. Loooook, maaaan, it says it right here . . . Dis – trict – of – Col -u-mbia.”

Never had a comment made me feel so stoned.  I was driving to the Phish show, halfway through our 3 hour tour of the western most section of  I-90 that would take us to the Gorge Amphitheater, when the douchebag in the backseat made his comment.  At the time, I was completely sober.  No substance in my system, I hadn’t taken a single puff all day.  Yet that comment completely numbed my brain like nothing I had inhaled before . . . I couldn’t respond.

We had connected with Keeley (aka Lord Douchebag aka D.C. aka Killy aka The Douchebag Bartender at Piper’s Creek) 10 minutes prior to leaving.   I received the first phone call:

“Duuuude, maaaan, I got a tick to the shoaaa, but no way theaaaaa. Heard you may have rooooom. That would be coooool.”

I was packed, ready to go.  We were about to embark on a weekend trip to the Gorge – 2 Phish shows and Corey’s 100th rodeo – to celebrate my brother’s 37 year tour of this earth.  The plan was to pick up Corey and head east on our 3 hour drive to the Gorge.  It would leave us an hour to setup our tents and enjoy a beer or two before the show was scheduled to start.

D.C.’s phone call was complicated.  I sensed the guy on the other end was a douchebag.  But this guy knew someone who knew me, and yadi yadi yadi, I am a fucking sucker.  So after multiple phone calls from the douchebag, in which he promised he could meet me only 1o minutes out of the way, I agreed to pick him up.

Of course, Lord Douchebag claimed a return favor.

“Duuuude, I got free VIP parking.  I can set you up for the weeken’.”

Now you start to get a sense of this douchebag with that suggestion.  You see, it’s not just that he is a moron, which I could deal with.  Nor is it that he pressures you to accommodate his situation, which is bullshit but manageable.  But what makes a true douchebag is to manipulate the truth to get solely what he wants without providing any value in return – in other words  a punk, a jackass, a wanker, a fucktard, a douchebag.

To completely understand how I arrived at this conclusion at this very point, it is important to note some facts about this set-up:

• Lord Douchebag knew we were planning to stay at the Gorge through the weekend.
• All cars park for free at the Gorge as long as they leave the lot after the show.
• To overnight park the car it costs $60 for a regular camping pass.
• There is also a much more expensive VIP camping pass.  Which is what I thought the douchebag had.

What I didn’t know at the time, but I do now, is there is something called VIP parking that provides no value and is strictly reserved for assholes stupid enough to provide favors to douchebags.   Like regular parking, VIP requires the car to leave the lot after the show.  Therefore VIP parking provides absolutely no value to me or anyone else.

But D.C. convinced me.  I reasoned “he knows my buddy  . . . who I am going to be camping with for the weekend.  He has VIP camping (so I thought).  He is willing to accommodate and meet me halfway so I only have to drive 10 minutes out of the way (so I wanted to believe).”

And here lies my own issue.  I am a nice guy.  I know I can sound like an asshole, especially when bitching.  OK, OK . . . I am an asshole.  But I am quick to do things for people, to accommodate their needs and wants.  I have people over to my place all the time and let them trash my apartment.  I drive people to where they need to go, even if it is far out of the way.  I am the one of my three brothers my Dad calls to get a ride to and from the airport, because he knows I will accommodate.  I do everything (but clean the bathroom).

I am the perfect target for douchebags.

So after driving around Bellevue – a godforsaken suburb east of Seattle that I usually avoid at all costs – for well over an hour to completely accommodate this douchebag we finally reached the on-ramp to I-90 East for our 3 hour drive to the Gorge . . . douchebag in tow.  The show was starting in 3 hours, which meant we were left with no buffer to deal with things like traffic and setting up our tents, let alone to enjoy a beer or two at the campsite after a long drive with a douchebag.

For the most part, I was able to keep the douchebag in check during the drive to the Gorge, primarily by ignoring his conversations.  The parts I heard provided ample support to solidify his douchebag status.  He had a 3 month old at home, who he ditched without notice to his girlfriend for the weekend.  In following his stories about “the fests” he had attended this summer, it seemed to me he had only been home a few weekends in the past 3 months.  How is your newborn son doing . . . Lord Douchebag?

It was then, about an hour from the Gorge, Corey asks me:  “Have you seen the new Washington, D.C. quarter? It has Duke Ellington on it.  I have one.  Check it out.”

“Duuuuude, let me see that,” demanded the douchebag in the backseat.  Corey passed the quarter to Lord Douchebag.

“No way Duuuuuuuude . . . this is not Washington, D.C. It’s District of Columbia. Loooook, maaaan, it says it right here . . . Dis – trict – of – Col -u-mbia..”

As I said, his comment incapacitated me.  I was unable to respond.  Apparently Corey, with his years studying at Pitzer College followed by years working as a taxi driver at Sun Valley and as counselor at 1-800-quit-smoking, has built a strong tolerance to even the stupidest statements.  So he was able to continue the conversation:

Corey: “Yea, Washington, D.C. That’s what I was saying.”
DC: “No maaaaaan, looook, it says District of Columbia.”
Corey: “Right, Washington, D.C.”
DC: “What are youuuu taaaalking about?  Caaaaan’t you read?  . . . (dead air) . . .  Waaaaaait, o0hhh, I think, ahhhh, do you mean DC is not a word? I always thought DC was a word. I didn’t know it stood for something”

I guess Lord Douchebag thought the appropriate spelling was Washington DeeCee.

We arrived at the Gorge and sho nuff Lord Douchebag did not have a VIP camping pass.  What he did have was quick feet.  The moment I pulled the car into the line to pay for our camping the back door swung open.   Lord Douchebag left us with only a cloud of dust in our face, kicked up from his heels as he scampered down the dirt road . . . and not a cent to be put towards the $60 camping tab.

On the douchebag scale, I place DC somewhere below Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Glenn Beck, and George Conard, but probably slightly above Sean Hannity (as mentioned, if you are simply a moron it’s something we should be able to deal with).

I’ll admit, this episode has me feeling that I am being taken advantage of.  I am a laid back person with a lot of energy.  I don’t like to sit around, so I am always willing to do things.  That is why I am always willing to do stuff and probably why people call on me to do stuff.   Even the corporate world exploits me.  I gleefully take on responsibility, but receive little cred.

A few weeks prior to the Phish show I met the model for the new me.  It was at the Northwest String Summit, a hippie fest if there ever was one.  The hippie get together was held at Horning’s Hideout, 30 minutes west of Portland.  When we pulled up, we were greeted by the hippie at the gate:

Me: “Our friends told us to meet them at Lot 3″
Hippie Gate Guy (HGG): “Weeeell, I wish they talked to me because I would’ve told them nooooo.” (note: in same hippie, stoned voice as D.C.).
Me: “That’s cool. Is it alright if I drive down there and unload our camping gear and then drive back and park where you want me?”
HGG: “Wiiiiiiish I could say ‘yes’, but saaadly I am going to have to say ‘noooooo’.”

Sad for who?  This guy had no remorse.  But he said it in a cooooool way.  Fuck him!  But I think he’s on to something.  I need to learn to say “no”, but say it in a brohie way.

Let’s take a step back to when DC called asking for a ride.  With the new me, it would’ve played:

DC: “Duuuude, maaaan, I got a tick to the shoaaa, but no way theaaaaa. I heard you may have rooooom. That would be coooool.”
New Me: “Wow, sweeeeeeet, nice hook.  Gonna be a sweeeeeet shoaaa.  Wish I could abide and supply, but saaaadly I am going to have to say ‘noooo’.”
DC: “But duuuude, you’re my only hope.”
New me: “Wish I could be ya Obi-Wan, but the Starship is set to Hyperdrive (Note: when talking hippie, its important to mix references). See yaaa on other side.  Paah.eace! . . . and save me some of that diggity dank fo when you finally get to the Gorge.  Out, duuuuuuude.”

Now let’s extrapolate that to the corporate world.  From my recent experience, I have realized that those individuals who are able to divert responsibility are most successful.   Therefore, instead of eagerly taking on new tasks, the new me will respond as follows:

Superior (at meeting with others attending): We really need to get that contract finalized.  Scott, can you get it done?
Me: Of course I can!  Although, as you know, I am really driving forward with our cross-functional team priorities, which is THE key success factor for the objectives that we are now focused on.  I would hate to lose focus because of such a minor task.  But I am willing to do what it takes, if YOU really think it’s important.
Superior: Scott, it’s great that you are willing to take on added responsibility for the team!!  Though, I am concerned.  It sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate.  I don’t want you to lose focus on our key success factor.  I am afraid you won’t have the bandwidth for this added responsibility.
Me: I am willing to do whatever the team needs.  But you know, I don’t want to risk our key success factor, especially with our cross functional team’s buy in!!  You know what I am saying?
Superior: You are absolutely right!  We’ll have Billy take care of the contract!!

This tactic will work great in the corp environment.  Billy (like anyone else) would invariably leave out some minor stipulation in the contract that somehow leaves us exposed.  Which, of course, the new me will profit off of:

Superior: Jesus Christ!!  What do you mean the project is completely stalled, if not dead?
Me: Well, in the contract, it doesn’t stipulate that they need internet connection at the time of implementation.  Of course, we can’t proceed without internet connection.
Superior: What do you mean it’s not in the contract?
Me: Ask Billy.  He’s the one that put the contract together.  I told him several times how important internet connection is.

Nancy Pelosi gives Rep Joe Wilson her death stare.

Billy’s only recourse would be a Nancy Pelosi-esque death stare as full blame for a failed project I was responsible for is his heaped onto his frail shoulders.

I am excited to have discovered the new me.  Never did I imagine that a few weekend “fests” and a car ride with Lord Douchebag would have such a profound effect on me as a person and how I will relate to other people from now on.

Of course, if a trip ends while enjoying a premium Northwest brew on the back deck of the Brick – which is the oldest bar in Washington situated in the small town of Roslyn located in the east foothills of the Cascades; the very same Roslyn that was the setting for the classic television show Northern Exposure – with a geeked-out wookie at the next table proudly proclaiming to us that he is the guy at the shows who hides in the Honey Bucket and leaps out to scare people as they try to enter (“Yea, maaaaan, I’ll hide in one for hours. It’s a fucking trip, duuuuude!!”) . . . shouldn’t the weekend be profound?

I’m enjoying the baseball season this year.  The Mariners are fun to watch.  They are a team that is better as a whole than the sum of its parts.  This year’s M’s are a team that I can appreciate for their play on the field and for results that have them within spitting distance of 1^st place.

They have far exceeded anything we expected.  Behind it is a GM – Jack Zduriencik (a.k.a. Dr. Z, a.k.a.  JZ) – that has established a strategy and has executed transactions that align with the set strategy.

Unfortunately, prior to JZ, Seattle suffered 5 years under a GM that had no set strategy; who made transactions that seemed as random as this years Dow Jones Average.

So as we head into the 2^nd half of the season, I provide this year’s what-if . . . Seattle never had to suffer the ridiculous and much too painful to be considered comical Bavasi regime.

Bavasi never existed Line-up (players in bold are players traded by Bavasi):
RF Ichiro Suzuki . . . . . . .362   6hr   24 rbi
SS Asdrubal Cabrera .300  2hr  34 rbi & filthy fielding (see double play v M’s)
LF Adam Jones . . . . . .303  12hr  47 rbi
1B Russell Branyan . . . . . .280  22hr  49 rbi
CF Franklin Gutierrez . . . .295  10hr   37 rbi
DH Shin-Soo Choo . . . .292  13hr   54 rbi
3B Carlos Guillen . . . . .286  10hr   54 rbi (last year’s stats, injured this year)
C Rob Johnson . . . . . . . . . .203    1hr    19 rbi
2B Jose Lopez . . . . . . . . . . .256  12hr    51 rbi
Kangaroo Court Judge, Clubhouse Jester, Hall of Famer In-waiting
Ken Griffey Jr. . . . . . . . . . . .219   10hr   26 rbi (he may not have a position on this team, but we’ll keep him . . . he tickles Ichiro for chrissakes).

Bavasi never existed Pitching Staff:
Tim Lincecum . . . 10 – 2   2.33 era
(Note: Bavasi was an idiot.  Zduriencik is not.  In my mind, Dr. Z would have taken local boy Lincecum, and I’m sticking with that assumption for this theoretical reality I have created)
Felix Hernandez . . . 9 – 3   2.53 era
Jason Vargas . . . . . . 3 – 3   3.82 era
Chris Tillman . . . 7 – 5   2.50 era (Triple-A stats)
Garrett Olson . . . . . . 3 – 2   4.42 era

Bavasi never existed Bullpen:
David Aardsma . . . . . 2 – 3   1.96 era 20 sv 6 hld
Rafael Soriano . . . . 1 – 1   1.48 era 12 sv 6 hld
George Sherrill . . . . 0 – 1   2.41 era 20 sv
Mark Lowe . . . . . . . . . . 1 – 4   3.24 era 1 sv 13 hld
Matt Thornton . . . . . 4 – 2   2.48 era 13 hld
Dude #1 to do mop-up/ long relief
Dude #2 to do mop-up/ long relief
(Note: I don’t blame Bavasi for getting rid of Ryan Franklin. He was suspended for taking steroids and was not producing.  Most GM’s would’ve sent him packing).

I know it’s unfair to speculate on what the specific roster would be today.  JZ would undoubtedly have made different moves if he inherited a more robust roster, thus some of this year’s additions would most likely not be on the team.  Nonetheless, the roster listed above, with the names and stats of players producing for other teams around the League, is a primary indicator of just how bad Bavasi actually was.  He completely depleted the M’s farm system and received nothing in return.

Of the players on the current roster, Bavasi was responsible for acquiring only five of them: Adrian Beltre, Erik Bedard, Jarrod Washburn, Miguel Batista, and Sean White.  That’s five players in five years.

In return, Bavasi filled rosters throughout the Major Leagues with good, if not outstanding, players.  There are 16 players on current MLB rosters that were in the M’s system before Bavasi joined the franchise that he generously gifted away.  Of the 16 players only Adam Jones, George Sherrill, and Chris Tillman were exchanged for a player on the M’s current roster.  All 3 were used to get Erik Bedard.  I would much prefer to have the combined production of the three former M’s than the output from a pitcher who can’t get out of the 6^th inning and spends half his time on the DL.

Additionally, only Chris Tillman was below Triple-A at the time of trade.  So the excuse that teams always trade low-level prospects (see David Ortiz) does not apply.

So, let’s celebrate a great 1^st half of a season and a new direction for a team in need of one.  Let’s celebrate the genius of Zduriencik.  And, most importantly as the trade deadline approaches, let’s celebrate that Bill Bavasi is far, far away from Seattle and from doing any further damage to the future success of our beloved Mariners.

One of you reading this blog post is my 1,000th reader!!  Feldie Vision has reached a major milestone.  I started my blog on March 18th, the first day since 1863 that the Seattle P-I did not go to press.  Since,  I have confused, dumbed down, and generally disturbed 1,000 readers!!

I know 1,000 may not bring me riches  . . . or even enough to buy a Rainier Tallboy at the Historic Triangle before an M’s game.  Other things I have started have reached more people.  Feldie’z Nutz served 1,000 customers during an average homestand.  World Wide Broadcasting delivered audio entertainment to over 2,000 people on a daily basis.

One thousand is relatively insignificant when I think that the past two years I helped install a software platform that serves over 500,000 microfinance clients living in poverty in developing nations.  Or that I was responsible for providing timely, overpriced, and mainly useless information to nearly 5 million daily as the product manager for 411 at T-Mobile.  Or that the Seattle P-I couldn’t stay in business because it only had a daily circulation of 125,000 paying readers.

Still, I am proud that Feldie Vision has reached the 1,000 reader threshold.

Here are some stats:

• 17 posts (counting this one). That means each post brings nearly 63 readers.
• 47 comments.  About 3 comments per post.
• 250 monthly readers.
• 9 daily readers.
• 110 people read my most popular post “I Don’t Pay for Cable“.  Apparently, people really don’t want to have to pay for their cable.
• 87 people are aware I will not find a job this year because they read my 2nd most popular post “I Will Not Be Hired This Year“.
• 64 people wanted to find out who was responsible for posting the garbage on this blog and clicked on the “About Feldie” link.
• 31 wanted to get a review of Star Trek by visiting “Star Trek Sneak Peek“.  A disappointing number considering the post came out 3 days prior to movie release.  Of course, 31 people were most likely disappointed when they found out the post really wasn’t a movie review.
• 25 people found my blog when using the search term “Bruce Harrell“.  This is followed by 11 using “trekkie” as the two most often used search terms to find Feldie Vision.
• 13 read “Life after the P-I“, my first and lowest trafficked post.
• 2 readers came to Feldie Vision using the search term “drunken teenagers“.  I claim no responsibility for that one.
• 1 disappointed MD happened on to Feldie Vision while using “orthopedic surgeon business card” as a search term.

On the trend side, it appears things are picking up for Feldie Vision:

• In July Feldie Vision is averaging 12 readers daily on non-post days.  In June the daily non-post day average was 5.
• My most recent two posts account for 20% of the visits to Feldie Vision.
• These two posts also generated 15 comments, which accounts for nearly 1/3rd of all posted responses.
• The past month has accounted for 29% of Feldie Vision visits.
• And last week was the most popular ever for Feldie Vision, accounting for 12% of all time visits.

My biggest disappointment thus far is that only 29 people have visited “The Mouth” post.  I am thinking about adding navigation to my top 10 posts and “The Mouth” should always appear.  I urge  those that are reading this to click on “The Mouth” and artificially inflate the numbers to guarantee its perpetual place in the Feldie Vision Top 10.

Overall, I have enjoyed writing Feldie Vision.  My goal is to do more posts; the target is 4 – 6 monthly.

Thank you all for clicking in and reading my confused, distorted, and often times blurred view of the world around me.  And I hope you will continue to return to get a look of the world through the lens of Feldie Vision.

“It’s like I was playing some kind of game, but the rules don’t make any sense to me. They’re being made up by all the wrong people.  No! . . . I mean no one makes them up. They seem to make themselves up.”
- Benjamin Braddock, The Graduate

I will not be hired this year.  I am not taking a defeatist attitude, I have simply accepted the truth.  I know this because things are absurd out there right now.  How else can you explain that a recruiter at an accounting and finance staffing agency ends my interview by telling me that the bartenders at a local bar are former strippers.  “That’s right, Jodi will show you her tit, just ask her,” explains Matt, cupping his hands below his left breast as if he were a women holding out her tit.  “You know what I am talking about!?!”  The elevator couldn’t come fast enough to provide an escape from the conversation.

Why I spoke to that guy for an 1 1/2 hours still blows my mind, but getting that final statement made me realize how absurd this process is.  I mean, this guy is actually gainfully employed while 1 in 10 people you bump into on the street are searching for employment.  In a business setting, 99% of my fellow unemployed would not say something as fucking stupid as Matt.

Interviews are really just false justification for the interviewer.  The interviewer tries to make the job seem difficult and unique.  This reflects on the interviewer who of course also has a job equally or even more difficult and unique.  Really?  My question to my readers is have you ever had a job that was really so hard that no one else could do it?  In honesty, I haven’t.  In reality, unless you are a NASA scientist or a brain surgeon, you haven’t either.  That is because most jobs, especially in the corporate world, allow for a significant amount of failure.

Since graduating with an MBA from UCLA Anderson, I have been a mid-manager.  A mid-manager’s decisions and work are greatly muted by the layers of hierarchy within the corporation.  The output has limited affect on the health of the overall organization.  It is the people at the top of the pyramid whose decision affect the livelihood and success of the people below them. So what makes someone successful in the corporate world?  I guess luck.  And I have had the unfortunate luck of being the victim of some pretty dumb decisions made by those people at the top of the pyramid.

As I reflect on my career I realize the the vast majority of my career has been absolutely subjective.  There is nothing measurable that indicates I create greater output than the next guy.  At least not in how I have been reviewed by my supervisors.  All my reviews have been strictly opinion.  And in talking with my friends, I know this is not unique to my career.

The hiring process is absurd.  Supposedly the goal is to ferret out the best candidate.  In reality, it’s used to identify the candidates that the hiring manager is most comfortable with . . . i.e. the person who has the background that is most similar to them.

“Wow! You were a McKinsey consultant!!  I was a McKinsey consultant!!! I found McKinsey to be boorish, lame,  and void of any true value that I have found useful for this job.  You’re hired!!”

On the other hand, a review of my candidacy is more like “Wow!  You have an interesting background!!  You have done quite a lot that does not have any similarity to my background!?!?  I’m sorry, this job is not for you because you are A. too qualified B. not qualified or C. not willing to suck my dick on command.”

The absurdity of our system was best articulated by a successful internet executive who was the commencement speaker at my younger brother’s graduation.  As the basis of his speech he decided to mock the infamous line from The Graduate “I got one word for you . . . plastics”.  The executive, apparently oblivious to the meaning of that scene, proclaimed in his speech the word should  “obviously not be plastics but rather internet!!”  With his statement, the executive, self proclaimed as “one of the country’s premiere businessmen“,  successfully placed himself in the role of the business person the scene was mocking.

Contrary to the premise of my MBA education, the market is NOT rational.  It makes for an easy model when teaching business cases, but, come on, are most business decisions being made in a structured, analytical way?  Not from what I have seen.  Are consumers, as a whole, truly analyzing the cost benefit of each purchasing decision?  HELL to the NO!

Shortly after being hired by InfoSpace to help launch their first direct-to-consumer mobile business, I decided to look at the fledgling business’s financial model, which projected revenue for the next 3 years (unfortunately I did this after making the major life decision of leaving a secure job).  I realized I had made a major career mistake when I asked “how did you come to project $15million in revenue by year 3?”  “Oh, that was the amount the Board said we had to make in order to get approval to launch this business.”  The model was a sham.  Made up of simple backwards calculations and opportunistic assumptions.  Nothing based on research or reality.

Short-term thinking and the easy way is what drives the market.

If the market were rational, how could the American diet be explained?

Rational is defined as a thought process based on reason, sane, logical.  There is nothing sane in Supersizing?  The irrational thought is that for only 10% more money I get 50% more food.  Make that 50% more salt, sugar, and fat; nothing of which the body needs.

The human body, like most things in nature, has an equilibrium.  There is an optimal amount of intake for the amount of energy the body produces.  Obesity (34% of the adult population in the US) is the result of far too much intake for the amount of output.  In other words, eating too many calories for the amount of physical activity.

If the market were rational, the consumer would not Supersize.  The consumer would not pay 10% more money for something not needed – i.e. 50% more salt, sugar, and fat.  In fact, the rational consumer would not eat anywhere a Supersize was offered, because any food offered at such an establishment is not needed.

Thanks to a largely irrational food industry, Americans now spend less than 10% of their income on food, where as 40 years ago we spent 18%.  Great!!  Wrong.  This is a prime example of short-term gain (I am saving money today) and the easy way (its easy to keep a poor, cheap diet).

In reality, the reason for the savings is food is made cheaply and the market demands that the suppliers continue to find ways to make it cheaper.  Over the long-term, this short-sighted mentality costs both the individual and the market as a whole.

Forty years ago we spent 5% of our income on health care.  Today we spend 18%.  That’s a net loss.  The combined expense of food and health exceeds the amount we paid 40 years ago.

Our irrational market has created a country populated with obese people that suffer from heart disease and diabetes.  And has produced a health care system that no one can afford.

If the market cannot act rational when it comes to food, an activity done for reasons of basic survival, then how can we expect the market to be rational with any endeavor?

So why am I writing about this?  What is my point?  I guess it’s just a rant.  A chance to vent.  An acceptance that I am playing a game in which the rules don’t really make any sense because they really just kinda make themselves up.

(A note about this post.  It was delayed two days due to the fact I had no internet access because of the Broadstripe “high speed” internet outage)

Why is Seattle – a center for information technology and digital media – serviced by a third-rate cable company like Broadstripe?

The past five years I have been underserved and absolutely frustrated by Brownstripe (formerly Millennium) Cable.  Their prices are outrageous, their service pathetic, their product outdated.  Broadcrap sucks.

They are so bad, all customers I know that have Browncrap, actually wish they had Comcast.  Brownstripe is the worst service provider PERIOD.

Last week the FCC pulled the plug on analog broadcast.  Someone should tell Brownstripe.  Barely outpacing over-the-air broadcast, Broadcrap now offers a grand total of 32 stations in HD – that’s if the HD channels work, which is infrequent at best.  The NOT in HD channel listing includes such standards as HBO, CNN, Bravo, Travel Channel, and Comedy Central.

I am writing this post because I am advocating for the City of Seattle to nullify its agreement with Browncrap Cable.  For this to happen, Broadcrap customers do need to become vocal. . . and there is incentive for doing this.  You see, I haven’t paid for cable in 3 months.

Brownstripe’s service is so poor and their outages so consistent, that the company has no choice but to provide full months of credit.  I have enlisted the help of the City of Seattle Office of Cable Communications and provide regular updates via email to Councilmember Bruce Harrell and the Cable Office.  The Cable Office in turn advocates for me in accordance to the Cable Customer Bill of Rights and makes sure I receive the credits I deserve as specified in the bill.  Over the past 3 months, these issues have equated to full credit . . . meaning no charge.

So if you are subject to Brownstripe’s crap service, you too may be entitled to free cable.

For years cable providers had been able to operate as monopolies, providing them opportunity for artificially inflated profits.  Yet, Broadcrap is so incompetent, in an environment that practically guarantees success, the company had to file bankruptcy.

What most people don’t know is these monopolies no longer exist in Seattle. Previously, cable companies bought licenses that allowed them to be the sole provider of cable to a specific area of the city.  However, according to Michael Jerrett, Staff Member for City Councilmember Bruce Harrell, a few years back Seattle ended all such cable monopolies.  The issue is these monopolies created a legacy effect, establishing a barrier to a true open market and customer choice.  The two primary issues are:

1. Competing cable companies do not own infrastructure to deliver service in the same areas.
2. Building managers, believing that their property were subject to service by a monopoly service provider, signed long-term non-compete contracts.

Where does this leave the consumer?  In my opinion with opportunity and incentive to make change.

Incentive – by simply providing updates about the piss poor service of Browncrap Cable to the appropriate people, you could receive free cable until Browncrap is forced out of town.

Opportunity – since Seattle no longer permits cable monopolies, Broadcrap must perform at levels as defined in their service level agreements (SLAs) found in the various agreements with building managers.  If they don’t, the non-compete may be legally terminated, opening the opportunity for competition.  Additionally, Tony Perez, the Director of the Office of Cable Communications, informed me that each year the city does an audit of each provider.  If it is found that a provider continually violates the Bill of Rights, the city could severe its contract with the provider.

This week, my building manager sent a letter to Brownstripe outlining several violations of the SLA with our building.  They have 60 days to fix these issues or the agreement is nullified.  One primary issue is the SLA states that Broadcrap Cable is to provide 24 x 7 technical assistant.  Its difficult to provide round the clock technical service when your offices actually close.  At 7PM PST M – F, 5PM PST Saturday, and all day Sunday, Broadcrap is closed.  During these hours, a customer’s only option is to leave a message with an answering service.  My bet is on Brownstripe not being able to implement 24 x 7 technical assistance within the next 60 days.

Once the non-compete is severed, Comcast has stated they are willing to make the infrastructure investment to bring service to our building.

If you don’t want to be held hostage by Browncrap Cable, if you are interested in potentially not having to pay a cable bill for a few months, if you simply want to have your rights, as a consumer, to choice in service providers, follow this four-step program:

1. Anytime you have an issue, you need to log it at Broadcrap’s tech assistance: 800-829-2225.
2. Once logged, immediately communicate the issue to the Seattle Office of Cable Communications.  You will need to email Brenda Tate, Customer Advocate, and cc Tony Perez, Director.  Additionally, you should cc Bruce Harrell, the City Councilmember responsible for the Browncrap agreement with the city (ironically, if I had won the City Council seat, I would’ve owned the agreement.
3. Contact your building manager.  Detail the issues you have with Broadcrap and ask if the building has a non-compete signed with Brownstripe.  If they do, see if they will advocate on your behalf regarding their inability to meet their SLA.
4. Contact Comcast.  They need to make sure there is an ROI for any capital outlay of bringing the cable to the building, so the more they hear from potential subscribers, the better.  The best contacts are John Harvey Commercial Sales Manager and Gary Maisel Director of New Business

Repeat this program every time there is an issue (which is often).

Good luck.  With a few phone calls, some follow-up emails, and, possibly, a few months of free cable, Seattle could be removed from the tyranny of Browncrap Cable.

Apparently inspired by my last post (Has It Really Been 30 Years? – where I call Seattle a pathetic sports city), the UW Women’s Softball team went out last night to prove me wrong and won the Women’s College World Series championship.

Though not a professional team nor a major sport (as defined in my last post), I for one hit the streets last night and partied like it was 1979.

I never really watched women’s fast-pitch softball until last week.  But you can now count me a fan.  Its a good sport and fun to watch.  I guess because I play co-ed softball, I relate to it.  But this is on a completely different level.  The pitch zooms to the plate at speeds upwards of 70 MPH which, considering distance, is the equivalent of a 100 MPH pitch in baseball.

UW was carried to victory on the shoulders of national player of the year Danielle Lawrie.  She is a freak.  She has pitched every pitch, in every inning, in every game for the UW since April 29th.  She ended the season with 13 straight complete games.  Over that span, she went Negro League.  In a throwback to the the old barnstorming days,  she pitched both games of the doubleheader – twice!  To increase the difficulty of that feat, each doubleheader featured an extra inning game.  I’m talking Satchel Paige.

Shannon is a sports fan (she is a bartender in a sports bar), but I never seen her as much into a game as Sunday when the Huskies lost in extra innings to Georgia.  No problem for Lawrie.  After pitching over 160 pitches in that game, she came back in the evening game to pitch another 120 to beat Georgia and clinch a birth to the final series.

Earlier in the series, she shrugged off a morning loss (inwhich she of course pitched a complete game) to pitch in the evening must-win game.  15 innings and 251 pitches later, she completed her one-run game and advanced the Huskies to the Super Regionals.

Bedard, are you listening?  Thanks for another 6 1/3.  Lawrie is the definition of staff ace and workhorse.  Here are some stats:

• Lawrie is credited with 42 of the 51 Huskies’ wins.
• She pitched 353 of the the 437 innings that comprised the UW season.
• She started 50 games, completing 46 of them.
• She started the Dawgs’ final 13 games, pitching every pitch in every inning of those games.
• She pitched and completed a game everday since Thursday, except for one off-day Saturday.  She of course followed up that day off by pitching nearly 300 pitches in both ends of the doubleheader on Sunday.

Mariners.  Trade Bedard.  And give Lawrie that vacant spot in the rotation.

Shannon was born on the day the Seattle SuperSonics defeated the Phoenix Suns in game 7 of the Western Conference Finals in the Kingdome. Since that faithful trip to the NBA Finals, ending with Seattle’s only men’s major professional championship, Seattle has sent a men’s major professional sports team to a championship game and/or series a grand total of two times.

Today is the 30th anniversary of Seattle’s only* major professional championship.  On June 1st 1979 the Seattle Supersonics beat the Washington Bullets in game 5 of the Finals.  Though the team was in Landover, MD, a frenzied fan base back home in Seattle took to the streets in a rowdy and spontaneous celebration.  Seattle had to wait nearly 30 years for the city to experience a celebration of that scale – upon the announcement of the results of the November 4th 2008 General Elections, Seattle was so starved for a victory, people took to the streets as if the Seahawks had actually won a Super Bowl. (I was in Florida, celebrating with the volunteers and community of Riviera Beach, so I still have yet to celebrate victory in the streets of Seattle).

Seattle is the most pathetic sports city in America.  Rivaled only by Cleveland – the Mistake on the Lake.  Cleveland hasn’t won a major sports championship since 1964.  Even with the “King” dominating the NBA, Cleveland can’t make the Finals.  The Mistake on the Lake is a loser town, but they at least fight to keep their teams in the city.

When Cleveland’s NFL franchise left  after 1995, Cleveland battle the NFL and won the rights to the Browns’ name, colors, history, AND a promise of a new team within 5 years.

When Seattle lost its NBA franchise this past year, the city settled with the NBA outside the court of law, where we won the rights to the SuperSonics’ name, colors, history, AND a promise to willingly relinquish all these rights if we DON’T land a NBA franchise within 5 years – which the NBA will not support unless we build a new arena.  Seattle is a pathetic sports city.

We are such a pathetic sports city that locals aren’t even aware of it.  If you cite that Seattle has never won a major professional championship since 1979, most people in Seattle will name a litany of times we actually choked, but they will state it as if we actually won.  For example, you will get the following list:

• 1993- 1994 SuperSonics ended the regular season with the NBA’s best record.
• 2001 Mariners tied a record for most regular season wins.
• 2005 Seahawks ended the regular season with the best record in the NFC and held serve through the Conference Playoffs, earning a trip to the Super Bowl.

Hearing these examples, as well as all others – besides the 1979 SuperSonics (and the ‘95 M’s, for obvious reasons) – I think of disappointment, failure, and chokes.  Seattle sports fans just don’t get it.  The ‘93 – ‘94 Sonics were the first NBA 1 seed to lose to an 8.  The ‘01 M’s didn’t even sniff the World Series, losing to the Yanks in 5 during the ALCS.  And the Hawks.  Fuck, that one still hurts.  We outplayed the Steelers, but thanks to two defensive breakdowns, a tight end with more mouth than skill, and a poor decision by Hasselbeck in Steelers’ territory, we are left with only excuses that the refs jobbed us.

Come on!!  That’s pathetic.  Other towns; that would be unacceptable.  It’s on our teams to win.  Thanks to a history of weak front offices backed by miserable owners, we are left with a few almosts and an excuse.

But I shouldn’t dwell on our failures, not today.  This post is meant to celebrate our one season in the sun.  The ‘78 – ‘79 Sonics were the last championship by a major sports team that truly connected with community.  Like the Charlestown Chiefs of Slap Shot, the players hung out in the community and with their fan base.  There was no entourage.  There was no security.  There was no separation between the fans and the players.  The players drank, drugged, fought, hung, and partied with the locals.

I know this because my Dad was the same age as most the players.  As a little kid, I would get to hang out with Paul Silas, J.J., DJ, Downtown Freddie Brown, and Coach while their wives shopped at our home during my Dad’s sample sales.  A fucking sample sale!!  Campus mother fucking Casuals!!!  That’s what the players were buying for their wives back then.  And the players came during the same hours as everyone else.  No special treatment.  They had to wait inline, with everyone else, until my Bubbe was ready to ring them up at the cash box.

It is a time long gone from professional sports.  When a city not only could embrace a team, but could live with it.  When a fan could cheer from the upper deck in the Kingdome during the game and then share the complimentary dish of pickles, vegetables, and peppers and a drink at 13 Coins with the players after the game.

Here’s to the 1979 SuperSonics.  Seattle’s one and only major professional championship.

*There are 4 major professional leagues in the US: the NFL, NBA, NHL, and MLB.  Seattle does have other professional sports championships, but I don’t consider them on the same level.  Two noteworthy champions are:

• The 1917 Seattle Metropolitians, winners of the Stanley Cup.  But no one remembers it and they played for Pacific Coast Hockey Association.
• The 2004 Seattle Storm, winners of the WNBA championship.  The team and the championship is a huge element of pride for our city, but as noted, I don’t consider the WNBA one of the major professional sports leagues.

By the time I turned 30, I had already long accepted it.  For nearly a year, any time someone asked me my age, I told them I was 30, though I was actually 29.  I didn’t do it on purpose; 30 just came out naturally.

I figured it was because I was in grad school.  I was going to turn 30 prior to graduating, so my life was not going to change as I passed the threshold between my twenties and my thirties.  So I guess I had subconsciously accepted that I was already 30.

Thirty is supposedly a major milestone in our lives.  It marks the transition from our twenties.  The twenties are a point in our lives when we are still trying to figure ourselves out.  A point where we are testing careers, seeing if relationships will lead to families, and starting settle into where we fit in the pecking order of the world around us.

Thirty marks a maturity point where much of that – I suppose – is figured out.  I thought much of my figuring out would take place upon graduating from grad school.  Well . . . its 5 years later and a television is really the only thing I own (its my first television and I am damn proud of it).

To me, our generation seems to be more pragmatic, if not paranoid, about making concrete life decisions.  My Bubbe (grandmother to you non-Yiddish speakers) was consider to have married late, when she married at 27 and had her first child at 28.  My Mom followed suit at 25 and 27 respectively.

My generation does not seem be as quick to wed and replicate.  There are several reasons why this may be.  Our parents generation’s high divorce rate?  More than a decade of an unstable economy resulting in financial confusion and instability?  I can’t be sure of the factors.

But most of my friends are over 30 and the majority are either not married or waited until they turned 30 to get married.  It could be the circles I run in – I know the friends I keep are by no means a representative sample of the average American.  Nonetheless, from what I can tell, my generation is marrying and settling down latter in our lives.

We celebrated my girlfriend Shannon’s 30th a few weeks ago.  Thirty was a big deal for her.  She did feel she was crossing the great divide between youth and adulthood.  Shannon was hoping to celebrate this milestone with her friends at an elegant dinner – a dinner that would indicate a level of maturity and sophistication.

Of course, my brothers Corey and Joel, thought a trip to the Gorge for The Dead, Allman Brothers, and Doobies concert, where we could camp in the parking lot and partake in whatever activities avail themselves at such an event, would be a better way to mark the transition to adulthood.  Shannon didn’t agree.  For some reason she believed regressing back to what she did at 18 was not an ideal way to spend her 30th.

Outwardly, I decided to play dumb.  I was aloof to her emotions and wants for her birthday, pretending to merely plan a normal dinner out for just the two of us at restaurant we occasionally frequent.

A word of advice for people considering such a surprise for a person they cohabitate with; be prepared to experience a week of misery as your partner builds anxiety, disappointment, and quite possibly hate towards you for being such a shitty, asshole boyfriend.  And trust me, these emotions build as the big day nears.

Besides a few leaks (Casey & Briana) I was able to pull off the surprise.  A week of misery was worth witnessing the joy Shannon felt when she saw her friends, brother, and sister waiting for her seated and drinking around a table in a private dinning area at Crush.

Shannon was ushered into adulthood with a private menu entitled ShayJay’s Dirty Thirty Decadent Feast created by Chef Jason Wilson featuring a four-course meal with wine pairings.

It was a gluttonous meal from the start.  The first dish was Stealhead caviar laid over a type of crème fraîche.

Followed by a choice of Maine Lobster Gnocchi

or Potato, Leek, Lovage Soup with Shigoku Oyster

The third course was a choice of Glazed Painted Beef Short Ribs

or Hawaiian Sea Bass & Brown Butter Jus complete with sweetbreads

A delectable meal was rounded off with a White Mousse with Lemon Ginger Cake

Any delusions we may have had of finally achieving adulthood with this meal would fade away as the evening wore on.  After a shot or two at the Hideout to cheers Shannon as she crossed the chasm from her twenties to thirties, we headed to Studio 207 for late night Rock Band.

Like a bunch of drunken teenagers rockin out on plastic instruments connected to the Wii, we launched into our alcohol soak after hour session with raucous duet of “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Shannon and Linda (of 80:20 fame).  A few notes played and a room full of 30-something teenagers started screaming at the top of their lungs the lyrics to everyone’s favorite Journey song.

Pounding Rainier and jamming on plastic instruments connected to my video game system; I can’t think of a better way to celebrate my thirties.  My parents and their parents don’t know what they missed.  Adulthood can wait.

I am pitching tonight against my hometown Mariners.  You are all invited to join me at Studio 207 to come cheer me on as I face off against my hometown club.

Problem is, I don’t know who I should root for.  Should I root for Scott Feldman?  Why?  I only share a name with him.  I mean, I am happy for a Scott Feldman to be making a career in the Major League.  Without a doubt, if I had been blessed with extraordinary skill that would’ve provided the opportunity for me to follow the same career path, I would’ve taken it.  Fortunately, I did not make my High School baseball squad, providing a clear indication that a career playing on a baseball diamond would not be a lucrative proposition for me.

I can live vicariously through this Scott Feldman.  Enjoy his success.  I mean, what is the probability of someone with my name playing in a major professional sports league?

A quick search of the Baseball Almanac provides an indication of just how unlikely it is.  The Almanac provides a “comprehensive list of EVERY Major League player” to ever play a Major League Baseball game.  Scott Feldman is only the second Feldman to ever play in the Major Leagues, following in the “legendary” footsteps of Harry Feldman.   Sure, Scott Feldman may not be making the Baseball Hall of Fame, but he’s sure as hell making the Feldman Baseball Hall of Fame!!  Fuck, I am willing to wager everything I own (which is pathetically little) that he is inline to have his plaque mounted in the Feldman Sports Hall of Fame!!!

Being born a Feldman means a life as a professional athlete is not in the cards.  Generally, it means business or some type of professional service.  Do a Google search for “Feldman Lawyer” or “Feldman Doctor” or “Feldman Finance”, we are everywhere.  But “Feldman Baseball Player”?  You’ll find two of us.

Hell, there is a better chance of sharing a name with a Feldman in the movies.  Ask my brother Corey.  Feldman’s are definitely entertainers, just not athletes.  Even the name Feldman entertains.  The Bizarro Kramer in Seinfeld was Feldman.  What other name could be on the same level as Kramer?  I’ll battle you with Feldman anytime.

Feldman is a great name.  I am blessed to have it.  When I ran for Seattle City Council, Bruce Harrell showed me a study that polled people that had no clue of our backgrounds or platforms.  Scott Feldman won!!  My name received 7% of the vote.  No other name received more than 4%.

So, yes, Feldman’s are even politicians.  But we ain’t athletes.

So tonight, watch and root for a man that overcame the greatest of odds by being a Feldman take the mound as a professional athlete in a Major League Baseball game.

I know I am gonna lift a beer to this improbable feat.  Scott Feldman, I am proud of you (Feld)man.

Stardate April 30th 2009, my birthday

My little brother Joel and I set out to go where we have boldly gone several times before – a major motion picture sneak preview.

As a United Way of King County employee with a quick trigger finger to all things offered for free via email, Joel is privy to tickets that allow him to see movies prior to the general public.  Joel has been able to talk at the watercooler about such feature films as Walk Hard, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and The Wrestler long before many of us have the chance to see their initial teaser ads on the television.

Having attended a few dozen sneak peeks over the past few years, you would think that Joel would be completely prepared with all correct information about attending and getting into the preview.  But that would be illogical.

So when I arrived at Cinerama – the theater Joel told me to go to – about an hour prior the start of the Star Trek sneak preview to find a line about 8 deep waiting for the next metro bus, but not a single person waiting to enter the theater (let alone a single pointy-eared Trekkie), I was not surprised.

Capt. Joel M. Feldman: “I think we are at the wrong theater”
1st Officer Scott: “Logically”

Joel flipped open his communicator and called the command center, “We are at Cinerama!!!”

Pacific Place was the correct location.  Since we are about 200 Star Trek years from the invention of the transporter, beaming up to Pacific Place was not an option.

With my achilles severally limiting my ability to run 10 blocks, Joel loaded me with our bags of movie-going goodies and took off at “warp speed” across Belltown.

Limping behind him (and nearly keeping up with Joel’s warp speed), I arrived 15 minutes later to a manageable line.  Settling into line, I decide to sample some of the treats in our goody bag filled with various liquids and baked goods.  A beer was my choice, which helped wash down a leftover pharmaceutical I had from my achilles injury.

Because of Joel’s United Way connections, we were able to skirt the line.  We settled into our chairs and enjoyed a couple cookies and a Romulan ale-like mixture of whiskey & 7up that perfectly prepped me for 2 hours of action pack space adventure.

Explosions, fights, some great dialog, and few surprise appearances later, I was peeling myself from my theater seat, fully content with my birthday evening. But others had arranged alternative plans.

In the event of a life form from the future having arrived to alter my current reality, my girlfriend, Shannon, had arranged with Joel and my friends a surprise gathering at the Marcus’ Martini Heaven outpost.  My friends knew it was my destiny to get wasted on my birthday and they had assembled to celebrate and cheers my 35 years on the planet Earth to ensure I realized this destiny.  So Captain Joel M. Feldman escorted me on to the USS Joe Metro and set a course for Marcus’.

After my previous intake of various goodies at the theater, I had not positioned myself well for this unforeseen encounter.  Yet, I was holding my own until the Romulan. . . er . . . a . . . Bartender, Pfieff, from the planet Rowy, started ordering shots.  Bartenders are a species related to humans, with a peculiar ability to serve up and finish off alcohol.  I am well acquainted with their notable capacity, as I live with and date a bartender.

As the bartenders opened fire with their shots of Jack set to stun, I quickly realized our mission to play Rock Band on the Wii was futile. . .

Stardate May 1st 2009, 30 minutes past noon

“What the?!?!? Why the fuck am I flat on my back on my couch? Fucking bartenders and their Romulan ale!!!”

Thank you all for a great birthday evening!!!  I had a great time . . . . from what I can remember.

Oh, as for Star Trek.  It’s great!!  Go see it.  Captain Kirk’s first onscreen sexual experience is with a green lady, and once again, Leonard Nimoy proves he is the one and only true Spock.