The Komen people might want to rethink this whole thing

Yesterdays' staff meeting included the agenda item of this weekend's pending  activities.  Included was one that may be potentially troubleful:  The upcoming annual  "Komen Walk for the Cure Fundraiser" to battle breast cancer that is scheduled for our area.

Being past supporters of this fine event for nearly 5 years now, both Mrs. Kfred and I have participated in the fund raising walk portion of their various events.  This year, due to a scheduling conflict, Mrs. Kfred is going to participate as a booth volunteer at the pre-race instead of as a participant.  Understanding the importance of this cause, the Misfits want to be involved as well and have formed a team, "Rubes for Boobs" and want to walk as well.  My problem is that as Executive Director, my job is to preserve the small amount of dignity,  relevance, and importance of our own organization while  trying to babysit  our band of idiots while they march together in solidarity to help raise money to fund research into this horrible disease. 

Obviously, one of the greatest challenges is to determine a way to keep our group together in the sea of thousands of participants.  Various methods were discussed and debated, but in the end, it was decided that we will line the Misfits up, tie old bras to each of their left wrists,  then tie their free right wrist to the  adjacent Misfit's strapped left wrist and VOILA!  A nylon chain gang ala a bunch of 4 year olds at a downtown crosswalk.  Everyone is linked together, we're in a straight line, and no pushing.  (Gummo!  Hold onto the strap!)

I'm a little apprehensive about the whole thing and unsure of the reaction to our efforts.  Obviously, it takes all types and we want to do our part.  My fear is that some walkers will actually think they are attending a walk for the wrong cure and be confused which event is being conducted.  The "Crawl to Stall Idiocy" is the following weekend.  I am the Grand Marshall. 

Really?? And whom exactly is saving all of this time?

Recognizing the need to remain at the cutting edge of technological  informational advances in today's world, we here at FTI are trying to embrace as many  options available in order to improve our efficiency,  productivity, and save time.   Of course, this does require a fair amount of interaction with the FTI IT dept (the most reviled department here at FTI) which at times can be quite challenging.  Case in point: my attempt to pay the FTI insurance bill on line. 

I received an earlier announcement from the FTI Treasury, (D. the Peap, Miser in Charge)  announcing that an incentive was being run by the bank to shift any payments previously paid via check to a debit transaction.   If we successfully completed 3 transactions in one month, the bank would make a small deposit into our account as a "thank you".   Never one to pass on any type of  free money, Dickie the Peap advised us to be on the lookout for any opportunities.   Receiving a bill from our insurance carrier, I noted the option  to pay on-line and figured this would be a good place to start.    Of course, this requires  setting up an on-line account with the insurance carrier.  I can understand creating an account with your bank, your broker, Amazon, Facebook, or the local mental health support system.  I don't know why you would set up an account with an entity that you interact with twice a year.   Regardless, I begin the process to provide the personal  information  and repeatedly receive the message :  "All information must be EXACT as on your bill to set up your account".  I check the bill 4 times, re-enter the same amount of times and keep getting the same result.  I then realize that, of course, it would be helpful to provide the policy number in the box that I had ignored and suddenly, PRESTO! the account is created.  Total time elapsed:  6 minutes.  Time remaining until computer potentially takes flight out of window:  90 seconds.  Having set up the account, I now encounter the billing screen where I can enter the payment information.  As I don't have the card on me, I have to get up, go get my wallet and dig through the cards to get the right one.  Enter the type of card , the card number, attempt to enter the expiration date.  Twice.  No luck.  Realize that a debit card transaction doesn't have to include an expiration date.  Attempt to enter the security PIN number on back.  Twice.  No Luck.  Same reason.  Confirm amount of payment.  Enter email address for confirmation.  Re-enter for Security purposes.  Send Payment.  "This transaction cannot be processed as a debit card. Return to previous screen and select credit transaction".    Total time elapsed: 4 minutes. Time now remaining until computer potentially takes flight out of window:  5 seconds. 

In the end, I paid the bill and all is well.  I understand the shift to a paperless environment; It's green, it's less clutter for the customer, blah, blah, blah.  I just don't know if I saved a whole lot of time, vs. writing a check, putting  it in a stamped envelope,  and dropping it in the mailbox.  And that saving time pitch?  Well, I don't think it applied to me. 

It's Green Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week, let alone the weekend. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have endorsed a new "green" policy here at FTI and want to do our part.  Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention how harmful  to the environment)  if you leave now without getting what you came for.  So we'll  do our part: it's not new, it's just gently read.   Take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past.

See you tomorrow.

Never Forgotten. Ever.

The usual mirth, merriment, and silliness associated with our normal observations will be suspended today in honor of the over 3000 lives lost 9 years ago today.

Regardless of your political leanings, interpretation of cause, or assignment of blame, the cowardly acts of that day were despicable. May their be a special place in Hell for those involved with the planning and carrying out of those acts.

Jukebox: But what have I done to deserve this?

Kfred likes leaving Facebook

After a one year foray, I deactivated my personal  Facebook account this morning.    And I don't think I am going to miss it a bit. 

Like a lot of businesses and organizations, the cheap-assed Board of Directors thought that we could create interest and attain new levels of critical thinking by sampling and observing the thoughts of others.  This premise was dismally shot down within the approximate first 20 minutes of activation of our account a year ago.  And nothing has changed in the meantime.   

The facts that you like/are a fan of 1)apple pie, 2)boots made of meat, 3) goats wearing Catholic school girl uniforms, or have a farm and want to share your harvest with me (or any of a number of particular concepts) is actually quite boring to me.  Likewise, I am confident most people don't care of my thoughts of today's weather, where I am traveling, or viewing action photos of the Misfits. 

To paraphrase Betty White's recent observation of Facebook, "It seems like an incredible waste of time."    I agree since after all, why would I want to engage and write about topics that are stupid, mindless, and nonsensical?  That seems like a duplication of efforts. 

Precision at it's finest

A little recap of yesterdays Labor Day celebration:

• Invited to a neighborhood picnic yesterday, Mrs. Kfred and I were assigned the task of bringing some "appetizers".   Actually wanting to expand my comfort zone a bit, I decided I would try to  make some buffalo chicken wings. I have never done so previously, but thought I would give it a try.  Though the FTI commissary is normally closed during holidays, as Executive Director and not fearing raising any eyebrows of our crack security staff,  I was able to climb in through the back window, unlock the delivery door, and give the Colonel a run for his money.   I don't want to brag, but damn, they were pretty tasty for being the result of the maiden voyage. 

• The FTI Drill team's marching exhibition was  lackluster, at best, while performing at the neighborhood picnic.  Though we drill extensively and I thought that we had mastered the concepts of eyes front, right foot, and counting to 4, everything went awry when our unit encountered a small reminder of the presence of horses further up the processional lane that one of the broom boys missed while cleaning.    Gummo, the Balloon Boy, our honorary Drill major, began shrieking like a little girl in surprise and fright after stepping  in the gooey pile and began goose stepping to try to get it off the bottom of his boot.  The rest of the Misfits, trained to follow their leader, immediately began to mimic our lead Idiot, and as a result, began to perform some type of cadence that would best resemble a fire walker whom had never practiced with actual hot coals.  The forced congratulations and offers of condolences by the neighbors were appreciated, but actually, put a damper on the performance.  I would have rather been told, "Boy, those guys need a lot of work".     

BREAKING UPDATE:  I have just received an email from our neighborhood parade chairman whom noted that next year, all parade entries without the proper supervision to maintain order would  no longer be allowed to participate.   Great.  Those damn horses can stay in the barns where they belong.  Reading further, I note that drill teams are not welcome either.  I guess we will just stick with the Macy's parade at Thanksgiving.   

Hey, we're off today as well!

Hey, what are you doing here?  Though we appreciate your interest, today's a holiday.  Go drink some beer, bbq a hot dog, enjoy the last warm days of summer.  This crap will always be here.  Go on!

See you tomorrow.

It's Green Sunday

Hey c'mon, it's Sunday and tough enough to get this group to think during the week. We get a day off too, you know.

We're glad you're here, though. We have a "green" policy here at FTI to do our part to minimize our impact on society the environment. Since you've already spent the energy to get here, it would be wasteful (not to mention harmful) if you leave now without getting what you came for. So we'll do our part: it's not new, it's just gently read. Take a look here and see if you missed anything from the past.

It's Labor Day weekend; we get tomorrow off as well.  The weekly struggle begins again Tuesday. See you then.

Best filed as "Oops, wrong number".

HELENA, Mont. – General rule of thumb: when looking to buy marijuana, don't text the sheriff. Authorities said a Helena teen hit a wrong number and inadvertently sent a message to Lewis and Clark County Sheriff Leo Dutton, saying "Hey Dawg, do you have a $20 I can buy right now?"

A detective pretending to be the dealer organized a meeting at a time when the boy knew he and another teen would be at a particular store.

The detective spotted two teenage boys and one of the boy's fathers — who was unaware of what was going on — at the store. He called the phone number three times to make sure he had the right person. Dutton said when the detective showed the teens his badge, one of the boys fainted.

No citations were issued after the parents of the boys, who were 15 and 16, got involved.

Jukebox: Especially this One

Colonel, Captain. Captain, Major. Major, Kfred.

An event in Dilbertland yesterday reminded me of the old M*A*S*H show that highlighted the silliness of appearances. 

One of the upper executives was coming to town for an approximate 8 hour tour and  visit with some key customers.  Involved in his layover was an "inspection" of the facilities and a chance to give the staff a little feel good session, photo-op, and sale of commemorative t-shirts with the dates and cities he has visited to date listed on the back.  (OK, I made that part up.)    Anyways, the amount of cleaning, organizing, straightening, and otherwise ignored tasks to make an operation run efficiently and neatly, was amplified in advance of the upcoming visit.  Like the old M*A*S*H episode, everything was in place, the rehearsal had been perfected and then the phone call came;  there would be a delay.  Suddenly, everything reverted back to normal, routine took over once again, and reality struck home.  A half hour later, MacArthur arrived, looked around, made small talk with a couple of the grunts, mentioned to email him if there was anything that he could do to help, and was again back out the door.  Total time on premises:  10 minutes.

Now I work in a good organization.  It has issues like any other, but, it is basically good.   The real work is not done at the top, however.  It's done down in the trenches.  Everyday. By the little people. On the line. Everyday.   

GQ: Meet FTI

There have been two recent news articles about personal grooming habits of professional athletes that make me glad we have a policy in place here at FTI and reinforce the value of it for the Misfits as well. 

In the first case,  Manny Ramirez is set to join the Chicago White Sox and cut his trademark dreadlocks in order to conform to White Sox appearance policy.  Ramirez has always had a "go it alone" attitude and has used his hair to make a statement reflecting the same.  Now, he is going to have to come into the fold, get a haircut,  and be like the rest of the guys.   Secondly, one of the Miami Dolphins football players lost a 2.5 carat diamond earring during practice and was searching for it later on the practice football field.  The player apparently forgot to remove it before the start of drills and subsequently lost it on the practice field.  The earring was said to be worth nearly $50,000.

We don't allow any type of sharp jewelry, piercings, artistic tattoos, or any type of body art to be worn by the Misfits while they are here  for their own safety.  This safety concern is not for violence, retaliation, or gang affiliation identification, but rather to prevent any 2nd-rate roving circuses to claim a wandering Misfit as a potential sideshow exhibit.  Ripley be damned. 

Idiocy from a female perspective

I'll let our 2 faithful readers do the math on this one:  A phone call yesterday to the compound was received concerning our facility, our current capacity, whether we had separate quarters for both men and women, our ability to mentor on a meaningful basis, and if  any of our staff had ever confused illicit drugs for a pack of Juicy Fruit chewing gum.  Wannabe actress, rich girl, and "I don't do anything but try to be famous" Paris Hilton's recent arrest over cocaine possession,  her denial of any knowledge of it, and authorities  considering placing her in some type of diversion program as opposed to jail all make up for some interesting speculation. 

If she does get placed here at FTI,  I wonder:  Will authorities later second guess the decision to avoid jail in order to have her here and learn the hardened cheapskate tactics of  Dickie the Peap?  I think that would be a bit harsh of a sentence. 

Well, they sound alike

I currently am having mixed feelings over a particular incident that I instigated a week ago.  On the one hand, I am angry, incensed, and furious to the point that I am contemplating legal action.  On the other hand, I am equally glad and performing cartwheels (mentally, of course) in celebration .  I guess both could be described as extreme opposites concerning the same issue. 

My recent letter to A. Barry,  the CEO of AARP, was a direct response to his invitation to join his organization.  I felt I was clear, succinct, and gracious in turning down his offer to join his group.  Now I find out that he has solicited one of our own, Gummo, the Balloon Boy, and invited him as well to join by sending him his own personalized membership card.    I don't like the idea of an outsider meddling within FTI organizational boundaries, but, am joyful that I am able to castoff the latex tying one as no one previously has shown any interest in doing so.

Deciding I should confront this challenge head on, I contacted the National Field office,  Division of Membership Recruiting, of the AARP to get to the bottom of this and see if they really knew the caliber of people they were seeking in this case.  A lovely senior volunteer named Ermintrude patiently listened to me introduce myself and  explain a little about FTI, my concerns and conflict over the letter they sent to Gummo, and my request to cease and desist these unsolicited letters to our members.  She then proceeded to tell me she had a slight hearing loss, hadn't been able to find here hearing aid previously, but had just located it, and asked if I could  start over again at the beginning.  After 20 minutes of tortured conversation, she was able to look up in their potential new membership database and announce that, "Oh my, a mistake had been made."   The AARP had actually targeted a retiring side show freak from the circus with an affinity for the cane beverage, Rummo, the Baboon Boy, to join their group .  Apparently when the information was entered into the data base, a key punch error was made.  ("Oh, I have a touch of Arthritis, dear".)   I left the office with a sincere apology and well wishes. 

My mixed emotions has left me in conflict since the discovery of this mix-up.  Again, I don't like the AARP contacting our team directly without my knowledge.  I do like, though, the thought of moving one of the whackjobs out of our population.  I guess I chalk all of this up to the plight of getting older.  Our senses, coordination, and well being just start to generally decline.  I didn't realize that our level of intelligence did, as well.  

Our international division is considering this guy for membership

BERLIN (Reuters) – A Polish man living in Germany went about his business for about five years without noticing he had been shot in the head because he was drunk when it happened. Police in the western city of Bochum said on Tuesday doctors found a .22 caliber bullet in the back of his head after the 35-year-old went to have what he thought was a cyst removed.

Presented with the 5.6mm projectile, the man recalled he had received a blow to the head around midnight at a New Year's party "in 2004 or 2005," but had forgotten about it because he had been "very drunk," a police spokesman said.

"He told us he remembered having a sore head, but that he wasn't really one for going to the doctor," the spokesman said.

The wound later healed around the bullet and it was not until the man decided to have the lump examined due to recurring pains that the discovery was made.

Police said they were not treating the incident as suspicious as the bullet might have got lodged in the man's head when a reveler fired a gun in celebration.  "It may have been a shot fired up in the air which entered his head on the way down," the spokesman said.

Jukebox: A little Friday Soul

We're juuussst a bit under our goal

Reminiscent of the fiasco associated with last years investing attempt, my personal financial adviser has indicated that my latest effort is eerily having the same results.  With big returns, low risk, a stellar track record of reliable payments, and a gullible client, all of the pieces were in place for some big money to be made:  by the guy I gave the money to.  A month's worth of excuses, delays, dropped phone calls, pending meetings with clients, out or range contact, etc.  (I've heard them all), has yielded the same rate of return:  Zero. 

Though these are my personal funds, I had planned on donating any profits to FTI in conjunction with any monies raised during our upcoming membership pledge drive.    No actual FTI funds were diverted or used during this speculative venture.  I sure hope it resolves itself as these funds were going to be dedicated to restocking some basics around here:  medicine for the infirmary, hymnals for the chapel, and   tinfoil for the hats.   

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FTI Gossip

Heard Around The Compound:  Insiders say that Dickie the Peap is scheduled to have lunch today with FTI Trustee, Giacommo.  No one is talking specifics about  the topics of conversation during the mid day grub-gab, but pals indicate Giacommo is resigned to paying in order to avoid a nasty scene when the check arrives. Hopefully, the short-armed one will have eaten earlier in the morning so the bill won't be too high.

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Yo, youse wanna make some money?

Upon my return from my recent FTI road-trip to New York City, I have gotten back into the regular routine around here at FTI.  Plowing through the assorted bills, hate mail, periodicals, and scribbled anonymous threats,  I did note a letter/solicitation offer for a chance to refinance the FTI compound at a more favorable rate than we currently pay.   The compound was fortunately built and financed a few years back at the height of easy lending and good rates, so, currently it is not "underwater" as a number of other properties are at the present time.  Anyway, the terms seemed appealing and I called the representative. 

The recent economic upheaval has caused many people (including myself and Mrs Kfred) to look at their spending habits and see if changes can be made that would benefit them in the long run.  I have been thinking about moving to a 15 year loan versus the conventional 30 year term for a while and inquired into the terms of such a loan.  The difference between what we currently pay and the new loan would only be about 5/8 of a point and with the associated costs and increased monthly commitment, it just didn't seem to pencil out.  My post here as Executive Director of FTI pays no actual salary, so, I rely on my auxiliary position in Dilbertland and the income of Mrs. Kfred to keep us afloat.   I can pay ahead if I ever get enough cash flow to do so without any prepayment penalty, so, it didn't appear to make economic sense to move forward, but I felt I needed to speak with an expert.    Knowing that our resident financial expert/staff cheapskate, Dickie the Peap, may have some insight into all of this, I consulted with him to get his take. 

The short-armed one immediately set off on an argument about having "picked up the check the last time" and that it wasn't his turn to buy.  Re-directing his attention to the fact that I was not inquiring about purchasing a meal,  rather,  to discuss some advance financial planning, I came away with the realization of the similarities of how he had amassed his personal fortune and that of the guys on the corner I observed in New York City:    Run a game of 3 Card Monty and then deny everything when confronted.  It works every time. 

The Idiocy is sometimes in the simplicity

Having finished yesterday with the FTI Road trip to New York City, I was not entirely sure of what was to greet me upon my return here to FTI.  Thankfully, nothing too extreme demanded my immediate attention, nor, were there any messages from our local bail bondsman requesting payment for any infractions.  I will discuss some of the adventures in New York in later posts, but, do wish to point out one of the reasons our work here remains unfinished.

The one (and only) simple assignment I left the Misfits was to have each of them develop a simple unique thought of their own, test it with our fully restored Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe,  and then perform it to verify it's actual worth in real life.  Here's what a week's worth of effort produced: 

Gummo, the Balloon Boy:  For high blood pressure sufferers-simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure on your veins.  Remember to use a timer. 

Rat Bastard G:  Avoid cutting yourself when slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold the vegetable while you chop. 

Slateface:  If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives.  Then you will be afraid to cough. 

Marv the Neighbor:  If you can't fix it with a hammer, you've got an electrical problem. 

Supposedly, each of these sure-to-be-recognized-in-the-future pieces of wisdom was both actually performed and later confirmed by our own Truthometer Deluxe.   This was not how I envisioned our fully restored  Ebay castoff to be utilized during my absence as I restored it for more important validation queries. I guess I should be happy as it does confirm what I have thought all along:  these guys are idiots.