A Letter to Sony

Dear Sony,

I'd like to thank who ever it was that fell asleep at the wheel in your security department. Your lapse has allowed my irrational fears of identity theft to be materialized. Seventy-seven million people have PlayStation Network accounts linked to a credit card and we're all looking forward to the day when we see unapproved purchases from some of our favorite stores. Hi Capital One, I'm calling to dispute the $300 in Visa Pay-As-You-Go cards that were purchased from a 7-11 in Topeka, Kansas. Thanks to you we're all second guessing that $5.99 purchase of Resident Evil 2. And what a joy it was to spend 45 minutes changing the passwords to all of my online accounts. Most people can't remember what they had for dinner yesterday and now I'm supposed to memorize the answers to all of my new security questions. In what city was I born in? Fuck you, Sony.

Respectfully,

- Mike O.

Blog, Blog, Bloggin' On Heaven's Door

First off id like to bid farewell to a great man, Jose Andrade. I first met him at best buy almost six years ago, and I got to know him a bit from his time in appliances and being the sales operator. I really wish I would have gotten to know him better, but his surgeries and treatments kept him away from work a bunch. Probably one of the coolest things about Jose was his great musical taste. It would always put a smile on my face when I'd walk over to the managers bridge and Jose would have his ipod hooked up and be listening to Morrissey, but then after like 10 min he'd call me over to the bridge and Jose would be playing "Rumpshaker" by Wreckx-N-Effect and we'd both laugh. The best part about it was that Jose made it like an everyday thing, One minute it was "suede head" then he would call me over and ask me "what do you know about this?" then he would put on "knockin boots" or "poison" and we would both just sit there laughing.

As Mike stated in his previous blog, Little things like complaints about work, customers, school, gas prices, etc, all are nothing compared to what Jose went through. So the next time you think you have problems, just take a breath and realize that it could be so much worse, life is waaaaaay too short.

Sorry if this post is depressing, I wanted to write about Jose then get to the funny stuff, but I don't know, I want this to be all about him.

In closing I'd like to say that the world is really going to miss him and may he put in a good word for us and save us a seat up there.

-Abel

A Whole Lot of Everything. And Diapers.

No surprises here; losing a loved one is emotionally overwhelming. Writing just a few sentences about it means you have to once again come to terms with their mortality. For some, it's a good way to embrace their memory but as for myself I've never found it therapeutic. In fact, I remember returning to work fairly quickly when my dad passed away some years ago. It was a great distraction and my own way of paying tribute to his work ethic. To me, it meant more to exemplify the man he was since I felt few words would do him justice.

Having lost a great friend recently I'm back to realizing how many things seems so trivial and insignificant in comparison. I also realized how hard it is to stop complaining about the little things because it's human nature.

I was having a conversation with somebody at work. The usual stuff was discussed: making revenue, attaching profitably, supporting growth plans, reading company news, planning vendor trainings, dealing with customer issues. Then all of a sudden I just stopped talking. All these numbers floating through the air felt so trivial. That was the day the news had broke and it just seemed inappropriate to put any ounce of caring into some floating number.

Right now, every little complaint feels so out of place. Traffic, poor cell phone reception, that douche bag writing a check and holding up the line. At some point you have to force yourself to remember that things could be worse.

With that said, this blog wouldn't be in existence if it weren't for a lot of the little things we have problems with. I know and respect the fact that things could be worse, but there has to be some room for a little comic relief in realizing the audacity of our trivial complaints. Which brings me to my main (stupid/irreverent) point: The diaper aisle is a confusing and offensive nightmare.

The Mrs. and I went to Target recently to buy baby clothing for our friend and little did we know how clueless we were. Mistake number one was not knowing that diapers are sized too specifically to be given as a gift, especially if you don't know the weight of the baby involved. If age ain't nothing but a number then why can't Huggies put it on the label? 1 month, 2 month, 3 month, etc;. Instead, I see the number "3" and think it's for three-year olds. Mistake number two was assuming that there was only one kind of diaper. Diapers with better absorbency, diapers with stretchier waistbands and stronger fastening adhesives. I'm literally offended by designer diapers that replicate the look of camouflage or denim. Really? What purpose do they serve if in seconds they go from being a fashion statement to a manure reservoir. It makes no sense. By the way, have you seen diaper prices lately? How the hell do they get away with charging so much for disposable underwear? I'm thinking about buying some Proctor & Gamble stock to get in on this diaper gravy train.

There you have it folks. Stay sane and see you next time.

Nicknamed

As much as I'd like to provide a more specific date or time, I just can't. My memory is more often than not absent of many key details and there are many who can vouch for that. Knowing my limitations, I can tell you that it was at least a few years ago when I attended over ten local wrestling events at The Allen Theater in South Gate, CA. Attendance varied, anywhere from 80 to 150 people got to see a good live show complete with all the drama and trash talking you'd expect. Some of the best matches involved a wrestler by the name of El Gallinero who wore a luchador mask and performed some insane high flying stunts. His introduction music into the ring was some Spanish house music that I had to have. Some time after, I can't remember how I found it or if Daniel sent it to me, but I found the music video for the song on YouTube. The video is bizarre, entertaining, and probably annoying to those (Veronica) who have been forced to hear the song repeatedly. At some point during a work day in what I think was 2008 I played the video for a friend at work. He laughed, shook his head, and a day later gave me the nickname Gallinero. He called me that at work, at his wedding, and even at the baby shower last year where I shared a beer with him so he wouldn't have to suffer through the event alone.

Rest in peace, Jose Andrade. You will always be remembered.