Let Me Be Frank With You

In celebration of the opening of college football season, I’d like to share an interesting fact with you from the sports science department of my alma mater, The Florida State University.

In the early 1950’s, a team of FSU researchers worked diligently to create a drink that would replenish the energy of the school’s hard-charging football players. Something that might give them the edge of more endurance and energy over their opposing teams. The result was that the first “sports drink” ever created was developed and consumed at FSU.

The University of Florida soon followed suit and then achieved wild success on the mass market with their own drink: Gatorade.

I’m pretty sure that mass market success could have been achieved by Florida State had they thought through the branding of their drink a bit more. It seems that the idea of replenishing your strength and energy by guzzling a pint of ‘Seminole Fluid’ on a hot day was a bit too off-putting-sounding to the masses.

I attended curriculum night tonight at my son’s high school. For those of you who don’t know, it’s where you go to your child’s school and attend 15 minute versions of their classes to hear the teachers give their overviews of the class. It’s an enjoyable experience for me and one of the few opportunities where you can visit the classrooms, meet the teachers and see what a day in the life of your student is like.

While sitting in his German class, I was checking out the many decorations on the wall. Very festive and interesting. Above the chalkboard was a series of signs displaying commonly used phrases you’d likely want to familiarize yourself with before a trip to Germany. Things like “Which way to the restroom?”, “I’m very thirsty.”, “What time does the train leave the station?”, “Where is the restaurant?” were displayed with their respective German translation. In the context of what I was looking at, there was one that initially seemed a bit unorthodox (at least to this guy who has never been to Germany). The phrase “Contemporary Life?” was included among the other translated German phrases. I’m not sure that I’ve ever uttered those two words in the same sentence to this point in my life and I KNOW with 100% certainty that I’ve never said those two words together in the form of a question.

For the entire fifteen minutes of that class, I racked my brain trying to come up with scenarios in which I might use that phrase in Germany. The only scenario that I could come up with is one in which I’m at an underground discotheque in Berlin, in the cordoned-off VIP area, vaping (I don’t normally vape) and nursing an espresso cup filled with Jaegermeister with 80’s pop superstar Falco. The music is pulsating and we haven’t spoken a word to this point so I lean in and slide my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose and utter the well-rehearsed question, “Contemporary life?” Falco looks at me for a moment then slowly nods his head once in approval, I push my sunglasses back up into position, lean back in my seat and take a small sip of Jaegermeister from that tiny, ceramic mug.

I guess that phrase can be useful after all. I’m going to send the teacher an email tomorrow to suggest that another useful phrase is added to the wall for easy memorization: “Take me to Hasselhoff.”

I just watched coverage of the Olympic marathon on TV this morning and caught the end where these incredible athletes turn on the burners to cross the finish line and give their coaches a wet biohazard hug.
It made me think that I should start up a marathon coaching business on the side. The overhead is minimal: 1) waterproof track suit; 2) headband/wristbands; 3) Hover-Round with 3 hour battery life and 20mph speed limit; 4) silver whistle; 5) stopwatch; 6) clipboard; 7) case of those little bags of trail mix (just enough for me); 8) a thermos to keep my coffee warm, and 9) a bullhorn.
I would recruit only the fastest runners around but I could even coach-up average marathon runners by positioning my Hover-Round about 5 paces in front of those average runners and instructing the runners to keep up with me through verbal instructions issued through my bullhorn. I would let them know their time after I jotted it down on my clipboard and would tell them that it was ok, but tomorrow you’ll need to go faster. I would also be a coach who discouraged hugs at the end of a race but if one of my runners lost their mind because they were drunk on endorphins, I’d have my waterproof track suit on which would protect me from any sweat-borne communicable diseases. 
If any of you are really good at running or know of a really good runner who might be in need of a really good coach, please contact me.

***Stop Here. This is the final installment of a series of correspondence that I had with an internet fraudster who contacted me while selling our car. Scroll down a few blog entries to read them in order.

We received an acceptable offer on the CRV. See below for how I delivered the news to David:

Dear David,
It has been some time since I’ve heard from you. By now, I’m fairly certain that my re-proposal of the use of Susan B. Anthony’s packaged in burlap sacks and secured with rope as a transactional medium is not something that you’re interested in doing. In hindsight, I can see that my proposal was idiotic and for that, I am sorry.
I have some news to share with you and your dad that is terribly difficult for me to deliver. You and I have grown to be close over the past few weeks and I feel as though I have grown to be a part of your family – like a distant third cousin you’ve never seen face-to-face, but still family. Both of us hold the importance of family in the highest regard so that is what makes this so difficult.
David, I have sold the car. I’ll let the shocking news sink in for you a little by starting a new paragraph.
Last evening, as my family relaxed in front of the TV (I’m back home for the weekend from Saskatchewan) I heard an unusual brushing sound at our front door. I went to open it and standing there was the Nigerian Prince, shoulder to shoulder with his village shaman. (The brushing sound, as it turns out, was an oxtail door-knocker bedazzled with precious gemstones that the Prince uses on visits of important matters.) Anyhoo, he had the small, solid gold baby swaddled in his arms and I knew at that moment that he was here to talk business.
I welcomed them into our home and we sat in the living room. The shaman didn’t speak a word but seemed to have forged an instant bond with our beloved dog, DJ (DJ humped his leg…multiple times.) We talked throughout the night and it ended up that his final offer included the small, solid gold baby (with rare silk swaddling cloth included), a wooden box of rare spices and incense and a magical spell cast by the shaman that is guaranteed to make our dog, DJ, immortal.
David, it literally breaks my heart to deliver this news. I was excited at the prospect of our deal but our family loves DJ so much that the immortal spell that was offered by the shaman was just too valuable to turn down. Early this morning, we waved farewell to the Prince and shaman as they drove into the beautiful sunrise on their drive back to Nigeria (the shaman has a spell that turns the car into a cigar boat). My thoughts immediately went to you and your father.
I know that this was the 2008 Honda CRV that you had your heart set on and there are very few like it. But with time, our deep wounds will heal. Please know that I intend to stay in touch with you and since I have your father’s Wisconsin address, my family is planning a visit to see him on our next summer vacation. We won’t bring the small, solid gold baby or our immortal dog though because we wouldn’t want to dredge up old memories.
David, Phil Collins sings a song on the soundtrack to the cartoon movie, Tarzan. The lyrics include a chorus that says, “You’ll be in my heart.” I’d ask that you tune in to your local soft rock radio station next week in the evenings and listen for Delilah the DJ to announce that ‘this one goes out to David, from Mongo’. I’m going to consider that song to be our song now.
Don’t worry, we’ll get together soon. I plan to scour the Internet for your exact location so that I can make sure that I continue to be a part of your life through my electronic correspondence AND semiannual in-person surprise visits.

Thank you for being a friend, David. I’ll write again soon to make sure you’re ok.

Peace Be With You,

Mongo

Sent from my iPhone

I received a shorter response from David this morning. Here’s the exchange:

David writes:

On Aug 19, 2016, at 4:42 AM, David Preston <davidpre12@xxxxxxx.com> wrote:

What is the PayPal email so that I can make the payment to you ASAP. Thank you

I respond with:

Good Morning, David!
As always, it’s great to hear from you! What great timing, too! I had just been staring at the picture I finally found of you on the internet after hours of research. Another day closer to the big surprise, huh? Boy, if that isn’t exciting, I don’t know what is!

It looks like it was pretty late at night/early in the morning when you responded so maybe that’s why your response to me was relatively short? I’m not a morning person either. It’s just too hard to put it in gear for the day. I also noticed that you didn’t even mention my idea about the Smurf coin carrier but went right in to the PayPal thing. I was a bit confused by that at first but then I said to myself, “if I know David, he’s just worried that telling me it’s a stupid idea would hurt my feelings!” I know that a guy who treats his dad to a 2008 Honda CRV is a guy who cares about the feelings of others.

I know you’re into PayPal, but since you didn’t say no to using the Smurf-bagged money, I’d like to point out that it wasn’t just the Smurfs who carried and exchanged their money in burlap bags tied off with cord, Gargamel used money that way too. Although he was evil, he was a pretty smart guy so he probably would think my idea would be good too.

To answer your question, I don’t have a PayPal account yet. I’m thinking that once we confirm the Smurf thing won’t work, we can move into PayPal and maybe meet at a public library to set things up and get some coffee afterwards? What do you think? Maybe coffee before, instead?

I haven’t heard back from the Nigerian Prince since we last corresponded but I did see a small, ivory statue of Buddha last night at the Chinese restaurant that I frequent. It made me wonder where this guy got his hands on a solid gold baby, they don’t just grow on trees you know. Probably the work of a shaman in his village. I just hope that the baby is really solid gold and doesn’t have a soft, chewy human center!
Anyhoo, get back with me as soon as you can. We’ll get things figured out in the end but I’m one for enjoying the journey so that’s the way we’ll play things here! LOL! 

Best Wishes Until Next Time,

Mongo
Sent from my iPhone

David responded to my response as I hoped. 

David’s Response:

On Aug 18, 2016, at 11:31 PM, David Preston <davidpre12@xxxxxxx.com> wrote:
Thanks for the reply, I will be purchasing it with the present condition and i have contacted the shipping company that will handle the pick up from your current address to my home address previously in my message sent to you and I will like to know the method of payment because I do work outside home presently which you do understand.

I will be paying with my PayPal account through bank transfer from here to your bank account if you do agreed to sell it for me,You will need to create PayPal account and set up with your bank details but you can easily sign up your PayPal via there website http://www.paypal.com.&nbsp;
Lastly, your PayPal email address or your bank account details which is the account and routing number will be needed to be able to paid via PayPal kindly reply me back with your PayPal email address or account details, waiting for your reply.

NOTE: I have upgrade my PayPal to Business merchant account which means I can only transfer large amount at once but multiple payment is not allowed I do not want my account to be flagged.

Thank you !!!

My response to David:

Greetings, David!
I have to admit that I was getting a bit worried that I might not hear back from you. The more I think about the big surprise for your dad in Wisconsin, the more excited I get to pull the trigger on this deal. Thanks for allowing me to be a part of it. Does he know what a thoughtful son he has? I sure hope so!

I see that you have suggested something called PayPal. I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of that but I’m sure that if you can help me get it set up, we can move forward with things. (By the way, the name PayPal is so much fun to say! At the risk of being a bit too forward, it kind of reminds me of our new friendship…PenPals! LOL).

Anyhoo, I’m willing to receive the money through this PayPal service but I think we need to have a backup plan in case my computer isn’t working. I have been putting a lot of thought into this but let me know what you think. Have you ever seen the Smurfs? Under the safe assumption that you have, you probably know that they carry their money around in these tiny little burlap bags with a little rope tied around the top to keep their Smurf coins secure. That form of currency seems to work really well for them on the show so I’m thinking we do something like that, just to keep things fun? Not only will it be more fun, but no banks are involved and we can cut out the middle man – just get right down to business! 

If you can find two dozen burlap sacks and some rope and fill each bag with 75000 Susan B. Anthony coins (equal amount in each bag, please) and mail them to my home, well then, mister, I think you’ve got yourself a deal! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about the part where I have to return $65000 to you, I’ll still do that. Should I send the burlap bags to your dad’s house in Wisconsin? I aleady have the address. 

OK, I’m going to be completely honest with you, I have been accused of having stupid ideas before so if you think that’s another stupid one, don’t be afraid to let me know. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody has told me that. I mean, I’m definitely willing to give PayPal a try and I completely trust that you will call me to help me out or maybe just respond with some very specific instructions on how to get it set up. Whatever you think.

David, thanks again so much for all of this. It means more than you know for you to bring me in on such a special moment with your family. I feel really good about this whole thing we have going on. Well, I’d better get back to work now. The foreman says we’ve got a lot more Canadian oil to siphon out of these fields! (He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ ABOOOT! LOL!) I look forward to your next correspondence!

Warmest Regards! Your PenPal,

Mongo
P.S. The Nigerian Prince that I referred to earlier, you know, the one who wants to exchange the CRV for the small, solid gold baby? He’s a persistent one! I have to say, I’m pretty intrigued at the thought of owning a small, solid gold baby but I’m still choosing you to do this deal with since we’ve seemed to have forged such a strong relationship in a relatively short amount of time!

Sent from my iPhone

The following is actual email correspondence (1 of 4 emails) between me and guy named David, a potential buyer of the 2008 Honda CRV we’re selling:

David Writes:

On Aug 18, 2016, at 1:37 PM, David Preston <davidpre13@xxxxxxx.com> wrote:

I am interested in buying your car for my Dad and I want it as a surprise package to appreciate him for his achievements for humanity in general and should be delivered before my arrival to Wisconsin because I stayed in Wisconsin.(home address ;5133 XXXXX Dr XXXXXX, WI 55555)

I am working as a Construction Engineer and we are presently at USA/Mexico border and we do not have access to long distance calling at the moment so am working 25days offshore that is why I have contacted you.

Please I will need to ask a few questions from you:
– Are you the first owner?

– Where is it located at the moment and can I see closer pictures like Engine, dash, tires, interior?

– Does it have any history I should be aware of?

– Does it have any mechanical faults presently?

– Do you have a reason of selling it?

Kindly, write me back to know your decision regarding the item and I will like to be the final buyer and waiting for your reply.
Thank you !!!

I responded with the following:

Hi David,
Thanks for your email. I am excited at the prospect of playing a small part in the surprise you have in store for your father. The 2008 Honda CRV is a classic and although your father is in Wisconsin and you’re offshore, my CRV (offered at market price) will be well worth the minor inconvenience of wiring funds through an international currency exchange as part of a complex series of banking transactions so that he can enjoy this common vehicle that he might otherwise find on the corner car lot near his Wisconsin home!
I’ll need for you to wire $75000 to my bank account because it only accepts deposits in increments of $75000, but don’t worry, I’ll wire back everything in excess of the $10000 asking price in your native currency.

I am currently working the oil fields in Saskatchewan and cell phone reception is sketchy so you will not be able to contact me but I know how important having a used Honda CRV is to reward your father in Wisconsin for his achievements and humanity in general so you can trust me to wire all $65000 back to you so you’ll have it in time for your return from being offshore. 

Please hurry, a Nigerian Prince has offered to exchange a small, solid gold baby for the CRV. It’s a tempting offer so I need to hear from you soon. I would like to sell this to you more than other strangers because I can sense your appreciation for family and I respect and admire that in a person. I hope to hear from you soon!

Respectfully,

Mongo (my nickname the guys gave me here in the Canadian oil fields)

Sent from my iPhone

I had to verify that I was at a physical therapist’s office today, as opposed to the nuthouse.

On one side of me was a chunky man who appeared to be in his late 50’s/early 60’s. Like me, he was there to rehab his knee. You could tell that he was one of those soft men and a real complainer by his mannerisms even before he got down to the business of rehab. Once he started in with the exercises, he was literally howling in pain and crying like a baby while loudly spewing Tourette-like F-bombs and other expletives every 10 seconds. Normally, I might be inclined to cut someone in a rehab situation some slack but even his wife was there yelling at him to quit being such a baby so I figured I’d give myself the green light to scoff at his dramatic performance.

On the other side of me was an octogenarian rehabbing his shoulder. He kept getting pissed and muttering comments about his dissatisfaction at my therapist when she’d attempt to correct his form. Throughout his appointment, he continued to completely dismiss her qualified instruction. The one time he was compliant, he was nearly too compliant. She told him to roll to get on his left side on the narrow table, so this mouth-breather gave her an inquisitive look as if to say, “So you want me to roll off this table onto the floor? Ok.” After a quick pause, he rolled over and came dangerously close to rolling himself onto the floor 3 feet below before she stopped him and explained that he should get on his left side WITHOUT dropping off the table onto the floor. Later, while she assumed he was doing the exercises, she followed up with him only to find that he’d fallen fast asleep. He gasped, nearly jumped off the table and gave her the stink eye when she woke him.

Before this experience, I always figured the worst part about being a physical therapist would be having to touch and smell sweaty, injured strangers wearing gym clothes. Well, that, and of course, helping old men in loose shorts stretch their hamstrings which would put me at a high risk of witnessing a patient ‘hang brain’ while I’m touching them <shudder>. I learned today that I was wrong and the worst thing would be having to withhold my comments about people who whine excessively or are generally non-compliant with instruction for their own medical care.

I’m certain that I’d never have the patience to deal with patients like those two jokers. I guess it’s best that I followed my childhood dream of being a middle manager in corporate America.

Here’s an email that I just received as a result of being on the local minor league baseball team’s marketing email distribution list. 

“Night of Worship with Hawk Nelson! This Sunday!”, as a subject line does not make me want to rush out and buy tickets to this game; instead, it leaves me with questions. 

1) Who is Hawk Nelson? A religious magician? Your exclamation point leads me to believe that I should not only know, but that I should be excited.

2) What/Who will we worship? Will this be a masked invitation to expose the public to mind control through Scientology? 

3) Is this event somehow directly or indirectly related to baseball? (Because baseball only pairs up well with a Beach Boys concert, post-game fireworks and those between-inning deals where two guys in rubber Sumo suits square-off against each other until one man submits.)

4) Why did someone name someone Hawk Nelson? Unless you’re a bird watcher or on the Monster Energy Xtreme sports tour, that is a terrible name for someone. Even if one of you has named your child Hawk Nelson, I’m not sorry. I stand firmly in my conviction that you’ve chosen your child’s destiny with that horrible name.

The one thing that I know for certain is that I’m not going to this game because I want to remain uncertain about what’s going on here – I’m getting some sort of weird pleasure from the uncertainty.