Election Night, Vikings vs. Packers, and Life's Greatest Treasure--our Children

WARNING: The following is fiction--bad fiction. While my daughter did actually vow to root for the Packers and has come home upset by what her friends have said about Senators Obama and McCain, the rest of this is just old fashioned, no-talent bullsnot, filled with left-wing, right-wing, Viking, and Packer propaganda. Enjoy!

P.S. Any blog post that can offend Democrats, Republicans, Viking fans, and Packer fans, would make me proud no matter how poorly it's written!

With the election coming to an end, I find myself with so many mixed feelings. Perhaps the feeling that is most unsettling to me started when I began noticing how many parents were indoctrinating their children with political views. When my seven-year-old had learned from classmates about John McCain, "not caring for the poor" and Barack Obama, "killing babies," I thought, what is our country coming to? What happened to the good old days of allowing children to be innocent, or waiting until they are old enough to grasp the complexity of issues before programming them to mindlessly restate hurtful catch phrases that they don't even understand?

I decided the best thing to do since the election is nearly over is to create a diversion until all the ill-feelings blow over. We can all be reminded of the importance of finding common activities we can do with our children, so I thought a nice diversion from all this would be discussing this week's Viking-Packer matchup that I planned to watch with my daughter. Unfortunately, my seven-year-old, Katie, has decided that she is going to root for the Packers this week, a decision that goes against everything my family stands for. I started out trying to respectfully persuade Katie about why Bakkers have, and always will, be Viking fans. It's the way we were brought up. She's a tough sell, though.

Katie had some obvious concerns about supporting the Vikings. She felt that starting QB Gus Frerrotte was too old, and is likely to be injured. She went on to explain, "The idea of Tarvaris Jackson being one injury away from being quarterback is just too scary to even consider." I thought, true, but pointed out that T-Jack has two years of experience as a starting quarterback and before that was an outstanding quarterback at Alabama State. She wouldn't let it go, though.

"Dad," she droned on, "Alabama State is hardly real experience. How would that prepare him for anything in the NFL?"

"Well," I explained, Alabama State is very close to the University of Alabama, a perennial powerhouse in the SEC. You can actually see Crimson Tide games on television from Alabama State." She rolled her eyes. (Kids these days)

I decided I needed to shoot straight with her. "Katie, are you aware that Kabeer Gbaja-Biamila is a Muslim? I mean, with a name like that you'd have to be, I think. Are you going to root for a Muslim?"

"Dad, what does that have to do with anything. Who cares if he's a Muslim if he can play football!"

"Well, his initials are KGB."

"So"

"So, he's a communist! So are the Packers. They are owned by the city of Green Bay for Pete's sake! How can you root for commies?"

"Dad, they cut KGB this week." She was really getting to me by this point--completely disrespectful.

I decided I should explain: "Katie, when you associate with someone for nine years, you can't help but be influenced by him. Don't you think the Packers have been influenced somehow?"

By this point, she was totally confused, so I wised up and took a yet another different angle. "Katie, Aaron Rodgers just doesn't have enough experience yet to lead the Packers. He throws a very nice ball, but the Packers were built to win now. Letting Favre go was a big mistake. This is no time for on-the-job training!"

I was really on a roll now, so I went on, trying to reason with her. "Katie, remember the last game against the Vikings, how Aaron Rodgers completed passes to seven different receivers? He wants to 'spread the wealth'. Greg Jennings, is open any time he wants to be. Do you really think throwing the ball to so many people is necessary when you have Greg Freakin' Jennings?"

"It makes them happy, Dad. Kory Hall should get to score a touchdown sometimes. He isn't as fast, so it's not fair if he doesn't get a try. Sharing the ball helps team morale. Winning and success aren't everything as long as we all feel special. And don't say 'Freakin.' I'll tell Mom again. "

I had her now. "So Katie, it's fourth and two. The Pack needs to score to win. Kory Hall hasn't gotten his turn to catch the ball yet, what do you do?"

"Everyone needs a turn, Dad. Throw Kory the ball."

Ha! Seven-year-olds. Sharing is all fine and good in grade school, but it has no place in a competitive setting. I kept explaining, "Katie, a team will only go as far as their stars will take them."

"Dad?" Now what, I thought. "Is that why the Vikings give the ball to Adrian Peterson all the time?"

I answered, "Exactly. Who else do you want to give the ball to, Visanthe Shiancoe? He's a complete drag on the offensive system if it wasn't for Adrian Peterson. The only time Shiancoe gets open is on play action to AP. If you give the ball to AP 25 times, it opens things up for everybody. His success trickles down. Pretty soon, everybody on the team is thriving."

"What if Peterson gets hurt? Then who comes through to bail them out? At least the Packers know they have a lot of guys that can help."

"Yeah, but Katie, the Packers will eventually fold. When they get desperate, they abort the running game, and all hell breaks loose. Aborting the running game just kills everything you work for all week. An abortion in these situations is just unacceptable."

"You really think the Packers will screw things up?"

"Well, Katie. A few years ago, the Packers stopped even coming up with a game plan when they'd play the Vikings. They'd wait to see where Randy Moss would line up, and they'd play on their heels and react. They waited to see what the Vikings would do, then they'd hope they could oppose their game plan effectively. It was quite pathetic really. Then, they spent their money unwisely, sacrificing defense and looking altogether pathetic."

"Dad?" She had that look in her eye, part twinkle, part devil.

"Yes, Katie."

"Who's won the last several meetings, the Vikings or the Packers?"

"Go to your room, Katie."

"Aren't the Vikings the ones who are salary-capped out now?"

"Go." There are some ideas we just don't have in this house, I reminded myself. I had had it when unexpectedly, a sweet voice from around the corner by Katie's bedroom posed a new question. Her tone was completely different now.

"Dad? . . . remember when we had to root for the Lions for eight years?"

"I wish I didn't, but yes."

"Shouldn't we just be glad we don't have to root for the Lions anymore?"

"You've got a point there, Katie."

"Will you root for the Packers then, Dad."

"No." I paused, ready to be angry, but more important things came to mind. I felt that Katie was learning something. After all, Vikings and Packers were both an upgrade over the Lions--big time. "Katie?" 

"Yeah, Dad."

"Please don't bring up the Lions anymore."

"Okay, Dad. Let's enjoy the game. I guess I'll root for the Vikings."

"That means a lot to me, Katie. Like I've told you, Bakkers root for the Vikings. Our principles are too strong to stoop to that level. We are too morally upright to be rooting that way. . . wanna beer?"

"Dad! Of course not!"

"Right. Okay. Anyway, I'm glad we had this talk."

After talking to Katie about football, I felt that I had really done my part as a parent to straighten her out about our core football values. Someday, she'll understand why we don't root for the Packers, but I think the main thing I learned is the value of enjoying each other, not me browbeating her about such hot topics like politics. When Katie is old enough, I'll be able to share with her how John McCain really does hate poor people and poops in our drinking water while littering on trees. I'll tell her about the harsh reality that Barack Obama actually eats children at Denny's with not one but two gay members of Al-Qaida. But until then, I'll stick to spending quality time with my children enjoying sports, fine arts, and other more low-key, age-appropriate activities that won't confuse or indoctrinate them. We owe it to all of our children to do this.

Explanation

Those of you who know me know that Charter Communications was a thorn in my side for a long time. This blog is not a coward's venting/anger management therapy, though I'd have to say it ended up being that at times. After countless hours on the phone getting through to absolutely no one to complete a simple cancellation of my account, I began doing my best to make my wasted time as manageable as possible. These two accounts are the only written ones, but in them you'll find bits and pieces of what I had to do to make my calls documented and/or corrected because of a breakdown in their system. Read from the bottom of the page on up if you want to move chronologically. All of this is actually true. The first one is more about being on the phone with Charter, the second, is an actual interaction via e-mail between "me & Tom." If you have had problems with the cable companies, you know what I mean. Enjoy!

Fact-Checkin' Tom from Charter.com

In the interest of being factually accurate, I would like to post a correction to my previous posting on my blog. Tom over at Charter Communications informed me that:

Charles,

Your use of the number 251 in your 'letter of complaint' is not completely accurate as our records show that the incorrect charging of $143.13 through ePay did not actually process. Apparently you or someone in your family must have discontinued this service, making it impossible for us to bill you further. The amount owed to you is actually $108.51. Please be patient as your check will arrive as soon as we can get it to you. I will also follow up and document your request to, "take the money owed to [you], buy the souls of our entire customer service department back from Satan, and send the remaining $108.50 back to [you] sometime before Jesus returns." In the future, please be more concise and specific with your comments as your sarcasm and degradation of our company employees hampers the communication process we value so deeply with our customers."

Cordially,
Tom #48F

My Response:

Dear Tom,

Thank you for taking the time to provide a prompt correction of my "letter." It was actually a blog posting of mine that I irresponsibly sent to over 100 people, many of them prospective customers of yours. Imagine my regret and embarrassment at having spread misinformation that tarnishes your company's good name. I will send each recipient of this unfortunate e-mail message a copy of this message so that they will know that you have only wrongly billed me for $108.51 in the six months since I dropped your service, not $251 as I stated previously.

Please know that my integrity and dedication to being precise with the words I choose and the information I provide is of the utmost importance to me. As a gesture of showing my regret for my actions, I have decided not to enclose the following statements in this message:

1. Charter is to Customer Service as Flatulence is to First Dates
2. Charter is to Ethical Business Practices as Janet Reno is to Male Sexual Arousal

It just wouldn't be right to degrade your company in this manner--especially in light of the error I made. I am a man of integrity and accountability, and I vow to choose my words more carefully from now on. Poop, Fart, Grizzly Balls.

Sincerely,

Charles

P.S. I've gotta go eat my bean dip. I have a hot date with Janet tonight.

Charter Communications: My Second Family

After sixth months of negotiating, I am pleased to announce that on February 6th, 2008, Charter Communications completed its work order from August 24th of 1941, er, sorry 2007 regarding Charlie and Stacy's account. Yes, they finally managed to close our account after twelve requests to shut it down and twelve requests to stop billing us for services we've not received for six months.

Charter Communications apparently had a communication problem as this now infamous work order failed to make it through to the next step in their network. . .twelve times. Each time, or each of the twelve times this happened created huge concerns for Charter. One customer service agent named Lee told me he would "communicate" (okay I extrapolated that word) the problem right away. This apparently did not happen the first time, or the next for that matter. It took...twelve times.

Over the past several months, through my many hours spent on the phone, I feel like I've gained a second family over at Charter Customer Services. There's Ahmad, who was very determined to do something to help me, if I only I knew how or in what way (He had a little trouble communicating with me as my Arabic is a bit rusty). Juan was a lovable, jolly fellow, always worth a laugh--probably at my broken Spanish as I gave it my best shot to communicate with him. But laughter like Juan's is contagious even if it probably was at my expense.

When my calls weren't directed internationally, I was fortunate enough to get to know Wendy who chomps her gum and types a bit slower than the rest of her colleagues. Then there's Earl, the lovable old codger who teems with information and helpfulness (He knows and leaks important corporate phone numbers--very helpful). I'll never forget Robbie at corporate--so forthright and accountable with his vows to put an end to such an inexcusable problem, proudly stating, "The buck stops here." Of course Robbie was just being modest with his estimates as, at last count, 251 of my bucks had stopped there. But what's $250, more or less, among family? My favorite, though, had to be Alicia, who made it very clear what an ungrateful brat I was for leaving Charter. "It's your loss; I know my company's good! You tellin' me you' perfect? You think your life is a big, red, rosy perfect bubble?" (I am not making this up). "I can't help it if you don't know when you're being billed" (This either).

In Alicia's defense, I had been a little impatient with her (our) family over there at Charter. I was a bit more tired than I had been during call number eight in January when I had to be transfered to the Customer De-escalation Service where Dee (apparently the mother of my second family) asked me a series of introspective questions like, "Sir, do you think if you calm down I'll be more likely to be of help to you or less likely to be of help to you?" (50-50 chance--Damn! I wasn't in the mood for those odds.) I was a little less tired, though, than during call number nine in January when I requested they transfer me to the Customer Escalation Service so they could get me properly psyched up to announce to Cheryl that I didn't appreciate $69.49 being charged to my credit card (They said they don't have an Escalation Service--You have to motivate yourself). But back to good old Alicia. Alicia shared a lot of wisdom with me in the time I spent with her. Best of all, she also told me I'd get my check in six weeks so I should "Be happy," a nice send off from my other "family" as we prepared to part ways.

The last person in my second family that I spoke with must have been the dad of my second family. After discussing my problems with Ron, who is also Alicia's supervisor, he didn't know what a big, red, rosy bubble was, and he regretted to inform me that he would not be able to send any big, red, rosy bubbles with my check. That kind of shot down my next question which was "Will they be perfect?" He didn't even know if there was a recipe for red-tinted bubbles. I was even willing to blow them myself (the bubbles). Apparently Alicia would end up with the last laugh after all--my life isn't, and never will be, a big, red, rosy, perfect, bubble.

I'm sure going to miss all those people. It's kind of sad now. I feel like I've become Charter's Prodigal Son. Then again, there still is the issue of that work order they just completed to "Send [my] check as soon as possible." Of course, if they continue in their usual communication patterns and mess up this work order, maybe the prodigal son will have to return after all. Maybe my family over at Charter will even kill the fatted calf when I return! Nah, I'd never wish that on Alicia.