We'll give you whatever you want; Just don't harm the dog!

Recognizing the power of numbers, the militancy of our 2 , no, 3 faithful readers (murmurs abound that there may now be 3; we'll go with it), and the sheer weight of influence this  occasional struggle commands,  I have blatantly ripped off an old National Lampoon gag from the 70's for todays posting to exhort you to action.  As the picture notes, effort on your part will  result in a joyous result for this dog.  If not, I'm not sure of the outcome.

I received a message last night from a friend that his dog, Fiona, is entered in a national online photo contest promoted by Garden and Gun magazine entitled 2014 Good Dog.  I don't know the judging criteria, I don't know the prize, and I don't know what is in it for the owner.  (EDITOR"S NOTE:  Demographic studies of our readership indicate that  publications with names like Garden and Gun, Feet Monthly, and Spank It, rated the highest and were classified as "very willing to subscribe to" based on title interest.  That's unfortunate.)  Regardless I know the mobilization of our 2 3 loyal readers can make a difference and move the needle.

At the current time of publication, Fiona has over 100 votes; the leader has a couple of thousand.  You can only vote once per day from the same device.  I exhort the 3 of you to vote from your computer, tablet, and phones daily for the next week to create a tidal wave of interest to propel this dog to the top of the standings in the contest.  Rudimentary math indicates that 7 days of voting x 3 voting devices x 3 rabid voters should have this dog in the mid-hundreds vote count by the end of the contest.  This is probably not going to be enough to win,  but,  you can sleep soundly know you have done something useful today.  For the majority of our readership, that will probably be a days worth of work.

Vote here.

I guess this means no pocket watch, huh?

Scrambling to the top of the FTI compound yesterday, dodging the nesting flying-ratlike Western Starling population  while still maintaining some type of footing on an approximate 45 degree slope, I was able to adjust the hand-crank driven communication satellite receiver to an approximate 53 degree azimuth in relation to the horizon to provide a communication linkup with Giacommo, my  able-bodied assistant from the past,  located across the continent.  Normally, this type of task is relegated to our FTI IT team (the most hated and reviled group here at FTI), however, since they were once again deeply absorbed in a continuing virtual firefight with some wizard priest sloth-monkeys from Zoltar 7 via their gaming consoles, they couldn't be torn away from their screens to help.  I figured I will just go make the adjustment myself.

My pride and proud association with Giacommo knows no depths.  He has surpassed me in leadership and advancement opportunities and appears to be genuinely satisfied with his current position at an alternative organization.  Our conversation was borne from my early post this week about CrazY and our shared amazement and wonder of how such people can remain viably employed when only caring about themselves with no regard for others.    During our conversation,  should CrazY ever be relieved of command from Dilbertland, Giacommo stated he would personally deposit something on his lawn similar to what a bear leaves in the woods in appreciation for all of the support he afforded both of us during our tenure.

I like to think of this as the green alternative to traditional retirement gifts.      

You know it's true: Sometimes the truth hurts

I had a talk with an insider from Dilbertland yesterday that confirmed my decision to leave was the right one. I never had any doubt, but this just seemed to reinforce it.

For the past 4 years or so, this effort has meant to be pointed, edgy, and yes, mean-spirited in order to showcase things  I think are wrong.   That's the beauty of this whole exercise.  If you don't like the content, quit reading.  Don't like my angle of thought?  Go align yourself with other minded people.  I don't care. I have, however, never  used actual names of people I am talking about.  Sure, our 2 faithful readers know the subjects I am describing.  Dicky the Peap gets roasted on an almost daily basis and yet he knows, HE KNOWS, I have never revealed his legal name. Which brings me to my topic of today:  apparently I hit a tender (very tender) chord when introducing CrazY to this forum.  While still affiliated with us, my able bodied assistant Giacommo noted the similarities between our organization's staff and CrazY's personality.  I wrote about it and politely declined to include him as I thought I had my hands full with the idiots I am surrounded by in the first place.  I needed no more.  CrazY reportedly recognized himself and my slide to banish-land started.

Looking back, I wouldn't have changed a thing.  Some people are simply not going to change. It's not my job to change them.  It's not my job to report them.  My job (which I have chosen) is to simply write about, describe, and mock them in an anonymous fashion while at the same time driving home my point.  I do it anonymously not because I am afraid to confront them; rather, to protect their honor.  After all, how would you like to be described as CrazY?      

Springtime: A period of renewal

Springtime brings a period of transition.    A time to awaken.  A time to refresh  A time to start anew.   I'm there.  And the world really looks much different.  

I just returned from a weeks worth of training and new orientation at a position with my new company.   I will not disrespect them to refer to them as Dilbertland v.2 as I would have if they compared previously to Dilbertland.  I have been treated completely different.  I am viewed as a valued member of their team.  They want and will help me to achieve success for my self and them.  They recognize that if I am happy, they are going to be very happy with the results I produce which make them more money. Every company has their core values, but too often they are only trotted out once a year, reviewed, and then put back in the drawer, within the bowels of the HR system.  This company, though, is different. You feel it.  When they talk about partnership, commitment, and entrepreneurship (entrepreneurship!  what company encourages employees to be  entrepreneur's with in their own organization?), it's not random words.  Dilbertland actually gave me a wallet sized Vision card that stated (and I am not making this up) that it's purpose was to "Create a proper return for our shareholders by increasing profits..."    Gosh, I really want to bust my ass for those folks.

It doesn't matter; the past is the past.  They went their way, I went mine.  It's a new season, a time to grow and bloom.  I know I will.  The soil is right, the sunlight ample, and the plant food plentiful.  Stand back and watch the spectacular flower.       

Time to take flight

I gave my 2 week notice at Dilbertland the other day and it is liberating.

After 12+ years, I decided it is time to move on.  I'm not bitter, angry, or apathetic.  I'm just tired; really tired.    Tired of the complacency, the games, but, really tired of weak management.  Now those reasons might sound like complaints coming from someone with an axe to grind,  But, they are not.  Let me explain.      

When I entered Dilbertland over 12 years ago, I had no practical experience in the industry.  I was embraced,  however, for my enthusiasm and was actually valued because of my lack of experience would afford me to be trained in the mold of what Dilbert wanted.  To me, it was fun.  I like to learn and I like to change things up.  I wasn't intimidated at all.    And, along the way, I learned and actually got to be fairly proficient at it.  I still don't have all of the answers, but am not afraid to admit so, and when I do get posed a question I don't know, I research, find the proper answer and relay it cheerfully in the interests of the customer.    Anyways, I did observe some things gradually  that I did think as a bit odd.  There became an evident message of "Do as I say, not as I do", type of mindset: "You know boys, the budgets are very tight right now and we can't afford any more resources. What's that, honey?  Oh sure, bring another bottle of both white and red  for the table and roll out the dessert tray, but, keep it light.  I can't spend more than $800 for this dinner".   OK, I get it:  let's eat well tonight because the sample budget is going to be lean for a while.  Sounds kind of like a funny way to run a company.  Or, "We recently enjoyed our best quarter ever with an increase in both top and bottom line results.  We anticipate a successful quarter ahead and forecast even greater numbers in line with industry expectations."  During the annual spring evaluation and review season, however, the message is that "the current tough economic climate, though improving, limit us to offer a modest 2% cost of living wage adjustment."  I think the light finally went off when I got the missive from corporate, though, when discovering that the guiding principle is to "return a fair value to the shareholder". The shareholder?  What about the customer? The employee?  Or maybe the product?   I'm a shareholder through the retirement plan and I sure as hell know my return on investment would be substantially higher if they focused on the customer instead of focusing on me.  I'm not buying anything.  I'm collecting.  And I would collect a whole lot more if people bought a whole lot more.  I am not idealistic to think that no company has warts.  I'm sure my new employer has some things I find a bit odd.  I know how they have treated me so far and I am not even on the payroll yet.  After accepting their offer, I received 3 phone calls in 4 days asking,  "how are you doing, how was your announced resignation received, do you need anything?  We are super excited to have you join our team."  Thank you very much. I've seen enough.

Wikipedia defines Stockholm Syndrome as  a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with them.  I was not a hostage, Dilbertland was very good to me, and I am grateful to them for the past 12 years.  I do know of people who are experiencing the Syndrome, however.  I didn't want to become one of them.  Fortunately, I caught a rising updraft. And I am going to soar.  

Jukebox: For more than one reason

That's a lot of Green; and we're not talking about beer

The incident reports are not totally finalized and a few are missing, but a clearer picture of the events this past weekend indicate that the Dickey the Peap/St. Pattys Day Blowout  resulted in a huge financial gain for the short armed one; and only we have photographic proof of it all! 

Initially called to the location over neighbors complaints of loud, raucous noise, police and elderly advocates were surprised to find a disturbing sight of overturned wheelchairs, a pair of women's Depends hanging in a tree branch, and most curiously, a single set of false teeth on the front porch of the residence where the blowout was being held.  Upon entering the party, authorities observed most party-goers in a state of complete and total sobriety in direct contrast to their expectation due to the noise involved.  Immediately, authorities suspected a bunco party that had gotten out of hand, but, then began to notice that all of the party goers had Irish coffee mugs in their hands with varying degree of drinks in them, and yet, all revelers were cold stone sober. Suspecting some type of chicanery, officials from the State Department of Weights and Measurements were immediately summoned and determined that the short-armed one, acting as the party host, had completely and constantly been short pouring Irish coffee drinks all night long in an attempt to widen the profit margins he would enjoy between the costs of conducting the party and the revenue he was generating from it. Apparently, the noise stemmed from the vocal protest from partygoers after realizing they were part of a complex swindle.  

As displayed here, an alert peace officer was able to photographically document the actions of the short one counting his money upon their raid. Due to the limitations in technology, the observant reader will notice that the hand actions of the short-armed one are so quick that the image is not "clean" and actually a bit hazy. Like trying to photograph a hummingbird in flight, capturing that type of incident requires specialized equipment that most people don't have without a specific purpose.  The party was shut down, the place cleared, and the short-armed one was advised that, though not illegal, it really isn't a good idea to be a lousy host with your friends during a celebratory type of occasion.  The short armed-one replied, "you've got nothin' on me coppers.  Now get the hell out of here!"

Elderly advocates did collect the set of false teeth and will return them to their rightful owner upon identification.    

Cue the Fat Lady

Well, finally.  It's just about over; not totally closed and I have been down this road many times before, but, this time though, the fat lady is in the wings warming up.  And she is loud, proud, and and going to be heard. And I can't be happier.

I got a message from Shifty, my lawyer, last week.  After all of the delays, lies, twists, and turns, Shifty reported that a check in the amount of nearly $192K has arrived to the Clerk of the Superior Court to apparently end our little saga. Now, Shifty hasn't yet got the money in his grubby little hands and I don't either, but, it has been pried away from Dipshit and his mother. Specifically, Mom had to refinance her house in order to access these funds. It's a real shame that she hasn't made Jr. responsible for this fiasco, but that seems to be the M.O. with these folks. Jr. should of had his little ass whipped a few more times 40 years ago to teach him he doesn't get his way all of the time. I guess that opportunity has long since passed. At this point, it's not my problem.  Some people will plain never learn. And these are two of them.  Nearly $300k has been squandered by these two idiots all over a simple Homeowners association dispute that could have easily been peacefully resolved nearly 7 years ago.  Sadly, it took nearly $225K in legal fees and costs to adjudicate this issue  in the court system.  There is something wrong (as I have pointed out many times previously) with our justice system.   That can be a topic for another day's rant.  Today, it's about listening to the opening notes.  It is a bit screechy and a bit overbearing.  But, it truly is, music to my ears.    

COMING UP:  A post-mortem from the 2014 Dicky the Peap St Patty's Day Blow out.  Police, Elderly advocate, and most importantly, State Weight and Measurements reports are still being compiled.  We'll have the full run-down here.  

I think this is a good way to return

In reply to the single reader who  obviously has way too much time on his hands, I return with the first post of the new year with even better news.First, however, a bit of related housekeeping:  The lone returning reader will note a new feature on our right column: this is again the ill-fated attempt to track the monies owed me by the aforementioned idiot developer.  I have been disappointed so many times in the past.
This time, though, I think I have finally got it right.

Earlier this year, the State Court of Appeals not only affirmed the Superior court decision we won nearly 2 years prior, but they didn't even bother to publish their opinion of the case.  In the legal world, that means the case was so routine and non-descript, it would not be used as a reference for any future cases..  This was a simple case of contract Law 101 that was bungled from the beginning, we caught it, protested it, sued over it, and won. At some point, we all recognize that you don't win every time and I think Dipshit finally got the message.   If the Boy wonder doesn't come up with the near 200 large by March 21st, Mom's house is going to be auctioned off on the courthouse steps.  And THAT is not going to be a pretty site.  Even in Dickey the Peap parlance, that is a lot of dough.   In direct conflict with everything else that has gone on with this case,  this time, my lawyer Shifty filed a writ of execution with  the court and they jumped on it.  Immediately.  And to top it off, the Sheriff executed it and served on our boy likety-split. No turning back the clock now.

Of course, the monies owed indicated on the side is to be shared among myself and my fellow plaintiffs. This in no way makes up for the sleepless nights, the tension, uncertainty, and ill ease which we have all suffered through for nearly 7 years.  On the other hand, I know of 3 sets of neighbors that I can count on  in any type of situation and have developed a point of trust with them that there is no misreading of their value.  It is immeasurable.  My trust is implicit.  And that, has been worth every penny in developing.  There are good people in the world as well.  I have always known this was going to turn out OK.  I just didn't know that I would ever see my money again.  I don't have it ,yet, and by no means have spent it yet, but, don't see many ways to stop the train now.  I sure hope it isn't derailed once again.