ADT, The Alarm People, Are Crooks!

Hello . . . I'm back. And I'm all fired up again. Has anyone ever had a bad experience with ADT? If so, please respond. I'm trying to get a feel for how many potential plaintiffs there may be out there for a class-action lawsuit. These people are crooks! Which is ironic, considering that the whole thrust of their business is to keep the crooks out of our homes. Little did I know that I was being robbed the entire time that ADT was installing my system!

Long story kind of short, I'm renting a home that has an ADT alarm system already in place. All I needed to do was activate it. When the installer came over to do just that, he told me that the components of my system were "old and outdated," and not compatible with the current system being used all over the country. So he talked me into spending $800 to buy new window and door alarms, as well as a fancy-schmancy glass sensor that activates the alarm if someone breaks a window.

Eight hundred bucks!! Hook, line and sinker!

A week later, the owner of my rental home tells me that he JUST replaced the old ADT components with new ones last October because the installer told him the same thing, that his system was outdated. So I didn't need to buy news components, as the so-called "outdated" ones were less than a year old!

Either one or both of us was swindled. Probably both.

It took this guy 4 hours to install the system -- he wrapped it up around 9:00 p.m. on moving day. I had had the movers here all day, the cable TV, Internet and phone guys came in and out, too, and I was EXHAUSTED! This ADT crook throws about 10 pieces of paper in front of me -- my "contract" -- and asks me to sign. He never explained what I was signing, and I was too tired to ask. Stupidly, I trusted him.

As it turns out, I signed a 3-year contract, which I never would have done had it been explained to me because I am in this rental home for only one year. He knew this, too, because I recall having that discussion with him.

Does it make any kind of sense to you that someone who is leasing a home for only one year would agree to a 3-year contract with an alarm company???

I've been doing a little research, talking to some other folks who have ADT, and I am hearing similar stories. Everyone had a complaint of some sort about them, making me think that there may be grounds for a class-action lawsuit.

Feel free to chime in if you have an ADT story to share, too. We can't let these thieves get away with cheating us like this. Makes me wonder how long they've gotten away with their unscrupulous business practices and how much money they have stolen from everyone.

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The Thriller Is Gone

This morning, some very inconsiderate early-riser jarred me out of my sleep. This person was parked right outside my open window and had the car radio cranked up pretty high. My first reaction after the initial shock of being stunned awake was anger. The sun had just risen and you want to hear birds chirping at that hour, not music blaring from car speakers.

But then I listened, and my anger turned to grief. Then understanding.

The song blasting through my window was “I’ll Be There” by the late Michael Jackson. (My favorite song of his!) Sounds surreal to be saying that, doesn’t it? Yesterday he was alive. Today, Michael Jackson is dead.

The early-morning offender was simply paying his respects. He gets a pass on this one.

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On Vacation!

I'll be back Tuesday with something to bitch about, I'm sure!

All Is Right With The World - Sort Of

For once, I find myself in a position where I have nothing to whine about. All is right with my world. It might have something to do with this video that my friend just sent to me. It makes me happy and hopeful that there are people out there like this, intent on uniting the world instead of dividing it.

And I say this on a day when news has reached us that North Korea has a nuclear missle pointed right at Hawaii, with a rumored launch date of July 4th.

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What A Bunch Of Boobs!

Softball is a great sport for young girls. Even for old girls, like me. I played softball for 30 years, believe it or not. (And no, I’m not a lesbian!) I know what you’re thinking: “I didn’t know they had leagues in the womb!” But really, I’m a lot older than I look. I usually tell people that I’m 39.99, plus shipping and handling.

Really, though, I love softball. I was a fast-pitch pitcher, and later I slow-pitched. I commanded the mound for nearly three decades, then hung up my cleats after a softball accident a few years ago. Long story short, I fell on my head running to first base, after tearing my hamstring and groin muscle simultaneously.

Lesson No. 1: Always, ALWAYS stretch before the game.
Lesson No. 2: When you play with lesbians, you're bound to take a licking eventually.

Anyway, I wasn’t going to let a near-death experience sideline me. (Well, maybe I’m exaggerating.) So I jumped in to help coach my 11-year-old’s team this year. The Stingers. Black shorts, yellow jerseys. Cute little buggers. Coaching isn’t the same as being out in the field and actually playing. Nope. It’s even MORE fun!

My daughter played in a city league, with girls ranging in age from 6 to 14. The little ones were so precious. Their tube socks nearly covered their entire legs and the girls were almost as tall as their bats. One team had the most creative team name I’ve ever heard: Babes Ruthless. Isn’t that clever??

Now that I’ve set the scene, it’s time to whine/bitch about something that’s been bothering me for a while, but I held my tongue until after the season was over because I didn’t want my opinions to color the way my daughter might have been treated in the league.

Here’s my beef, summed up in a picture:

Does anyone else think it’s odd for Hooters to be sponsoring a young girls’ softball league? Does that seem a little out of place to you? That would be like the Jewish American League sponsoring Oktoberfest. Or me getting back together with my ex-husband. It’s kind of a mismatch.

Think about that for a minute: First off, the word “hooters” is downright demeaning to women. It’s a guy word, obviously. I don’t know any woman who refers to her breasts as “hooters,” and you know why? Because it’s degrading, guys! So why would you slap the word “Hooters” on a large, vinyl banner and hang it up on the fence of the main softball diamond for all those impressionable young girls to see?

“Coach Danny, what's a ‘Hooters?'"

One Saturday, an adult in an owl suit showed up to cheer on some of the young players. He was escorted by a gal in tight pants and a belly-baring top who was passing out restaurant coupons. The attention-grabbing owl was from Hooters. Get it?

I was stunned, then outraged. No one else seemed to be bothered by this invasion of innocence. Exposing young girls to the world represented by Hooters can contribute to their early sexualization, don’t you know? Studies have shown that early sexualization of girls can lead to eating disorders, depression and low self-esteem. Certainly the opposite of what we are trying to instill in our daughters through their participation in a team sport.

And what’s a family supposed to do with the coupons, anyway? Take their daughters to Hooters for some half-priced wings to see more young women in tight shirts and barely-there shorts being ogled by “hungry” male guests? I can’t verify this myself, but one of my readers told me that some of the less-endowed waitresses even walk around wearing signs on their shirts that say, “Tip me. I’m saving up for a boob job.”

I repeat: Hooters has NO business sponsoring a girls’ softball league. There are plenty of other businesses to tap into that would be more appropriate for this venue: Chuck E. Cheese, Knott's Berry Farm, Baskin and Robbins, Del Taco (just kidding on that one!).

And those who think it’s perfectly acceptable to take Hooters' money and hang their banners on our daughters' softball fields in exchange for a little “exposure,” well, you’re just a bunch of boobs!

He GETS Me!

I won’t argue that the Del Taco horse is beaten and long dead. Trust me, I don’t want to resurrect that big stink! But you may have missed the last few responses that have trickled in. FINALLY, my people have come out of the shadows in my defense. Where the HELL have you been? You left me all alone, defending myself against an angry mob with nothing but a sharp tongue. Anyway, I’m glad you finally showed up.

But one response in particular stands out because it’s from one of the loudest critics of me in this fray. His name is Jouda Mann. Probably not his real name, but still. He’s a Farker, and what I love about his final response to me is that he GETS me! Jouda is right on the money about who I am and my purpose behind writing this blog: It’s where I go to scream when something’s bothering me. Where I let it all out and gain composure before I blend seamlessly and sanely back into the mainstream. I don’t bitch and whine all the time. But I do it all the time here.

This world is full of so many different people and viewpoints. Just look at what’s going on in the Middle East. But that doesn’t mean that it has to get ugly. Less prejudgments and more tolerance can go a long way. Thank you, Jouda, for demonstrating this.

I copied Jouda’s response below so that you don’t have to go fishing for it. But before you read it, take a look at this video. For those of you who don’t quite understand a mother’s primal instinct to nurture and protect her children, this might enlighten you some. It’s also a wonderful testament to how two different species can get along in this mad world, if only we come from a place of understanding.






Jouda Mann said...

For the first question, I live in Texas, and I have never even seen a DelTaco. But I do have an analytical mind, and I know that the figures I cam to might not be accurate, but they're close.

As for snowflakes:The Urban Dictionary defines "Precious Snowflake" thus:Child of extremely overprotective and/or self-absorbed parents. Coddled from birth, their mommy and daddy will get stupid, ludicrous rules added or changed because they cannot fathom the idea that their kid might have to learn humility. Often turn out to be stuck-up, spoiled pains in the ass because they get everything they want.We Farkers, as you have labeled us, use that term to indicate our disgust with people who seem to show us these traits.

I think that the reason you have garnered this attention from the Alt community is because many of them know how to read words, but they do not know how to read the correct inflection in the words. They just assume that you are another butthurt loud mouthed mom who's gonna raise a big stink.However, in your case, I will admit that it's unfair.

I took the time to read some of your blog posts, and while you do come off as somewhat standoffish and a little uppity, one can see that you have taken up these blogs as a way to blow off steam. I can also tell that while you are concerned about the welfare of people in general, and your children and their friends in particular, you don't take yourself as seriously as it might appear on the surface.

Actually, since you and I got over jabbing at each other, and talked to each other as human beings, I can tell that we would probably have some very interesting conversations. You be Shawn Hannity, but with less Crazy, and I'll be Kieth Olberman, but with less smug attitude and condescension.

And The Ground Rumbled!

Last night, as I was reading some of the inspirational and truly moving responses provided by my newest fans, The Farkers, the floor beneath me rumbled, then my office chair started shaking, then the walls took on a life of their own. My first thought was, "OMG, the angry Farker mob is coming to get me!"

Then I heard my daughter scream, "Earthquake!" and it shook me out of my reverie. (Learn more about the shake-up here.)

We ran to the front door of our condo, and I'm not sure why people do this anymore. The Red Cross doesn't recommend it. (Here's what to do instead.) All our neighbors up and down the long, narrow condo complex poked their heads out their doors. I saw heads I had never met before. "Did you feel THAT??" they said nearly in unison.

What a silly question. I wanted to say, "Um, no. It's just a complete coincidence that we're all standing at our opened doors at the exact same time, looking scared and confused (and a little thrilled, I might add), some of us like the neighbor across the way in nothing but a T-shirt and undies." Of COURSE we felt that! In fact, my cat bolted so quickly up the stairs, I wasn't sure I'd ever see her again.

My daughters were afraid to go up to their rooms to sleep. But the Sandman eventually won out. Nope, it wasn't THE BIG ONE this time. And I think that really disappointed some of my crazy neighbors. But when THE BIG ONE does hit, there's not a whole lot you can do in about 10 seconds (5 seconds of which are wasted by you trying to figure out if it's an earthquake or not) but cover your head and hope that your sins have been forgiven.