My job with News Monitoring Services was running fairly smoothly in the early part of 1994. I came in every morning, did my monitoring and any other odd jobs that needed done and went home. I rarely had to interact with anyone, especially the owner, Mr. N. But this didn't mean that I didn't see him go on rampages. He would frequently get mad about something and start yelling. Even though I was never on the receiving end of these tirades, I knew it wasn't long before I would be. (And I'll have a separate article about Mr. N tomorrow.)
In the meantime, we had to move from our space in the Kearny Mesa area to a building close to Downtown San Diego. We had to transport all the VCRs, tapes, monitors, editing equipment and office furniture. It was a pain to coordinate because we still needed to be recording and monitoring the news while we were doing this.
Things were going okay for awhile at the new location, but he decided to start paying us by the hour instead of the point system. And then he started delaying our paychecks. This was irritating because he stated our paydays were on specific days and then he found out what the law allowed and wouldn't pay us any earlier than that. He would even wait until the end of the day to release the checks. And then, when we did get paid, we practically had to race two blocks to the bank to make sure the checks would clear. Sometimes, they didn't and it was very reminiscent of the follies that took place when I worked at KZZO-FM.
One day, I was at work and some official looking people came in. One man told us he was from the IRS and that the assets on the premises were being seized. All the employees would have to leave immediately. Employees were not the only people Mr. N owed money to. I left not knowing if I still had a job. I wondered if I would be available to apply for unemployment. Even though I was working 40 hours a week, I wasn't really considered full time. Afterward, Mr. N was able to contact his attorney to start bankruptcy proceedings. When that happened, the IRS people left and we were able to return to work. Thank goodness!
Very soon after that, we had to move again, about four blocks down the street. The big problem this time was that Mr. N decided to use it as an excuse to go two whole days beyond the legal deadline to give us our paychecks. One of the employees who had been hired the same time as me yelled at Mr. N about the check situation and Mr. N kept yelling back. That guy wound up quitting. That move got on everyone's last nerve. But the good news was that we never needed to move again for as long as I worked for the company.
During this time, my responsibilities increased. I was in charge of programming the VCRs, doing the schedules for the monitors, editing videotape and audiotape, writing transcripts. And for a period of time, I was in charge of hiring new monitors. I had very little downtime at work. And it seemed that every time I was able to arrange some breathing room, Mr. N would come up with a new duty for me to perform. And he did this without raising my pay.
On top of all this, I would have to show up at work at odd hours on the weekend when we didn't have staff so that I could load the VCRs. And to be honest, I did this without getting paid. (I was just glad to be able to keep working.) My social and event life revolved around making certain that we were recording the programs that we needed for our inventory.
One of the benefits of being in charge of the recording was that I could borrow the videotapes of the major network primetime programs that I enjoyed watching. I watched way more TV than I needed to. But then again, I didn't have a girlfriend. I had all that time to burn.
In yesterday's post, I didn't go into much detail about our monitoring software. It was designed by Mr. N's brother and was in beta phase the whole time I was there. They had come up with a couple of different versions and it clearly was not completed, but it was functional for our purposes. After all the monitoring for the day had been done, the sales staff would search on specific terms for our regular clients. This would bring up a list of the hits that we got on each newscast and the list would then be faxed to the clients. Afterward, the sales staff would scan the summaries to see if there were any businesses we could cold call and see if they wanted copies of the news reports. The only inconvenience about the report was that we couldn't edit it, so our clients would get several stories with the same search terms that didn't have anything to do with them.
Ultimately, Mr. N's goal was to sell this software to other video monitoring services, including AVR. But while his brother knew all about programming and coding, he had some mental health issues that kept him from completing the software. If you clicked on "help" for some topic, something would come up that said "Content to be added later." It was a long way from being completed.
Enough time had passed that someone else came up with monitoring software that was completed. And while it wasn't as user-friendly as ours, it did allow for editing of search results. But by this point, I had gotten fed up with Mr N and the direction the company was heading. I tried to figure out a good way to leave before the new software was to be implemented.
That opportunity presented itself in the middle of December 1999 when Mr. N had posted a message on our intranet that asked me to record something on CNBC. For whatever reason, it didn't show up on my computer desktop. One of the other co-workers saw the message and pointed it out to me. I knew this wasn't good.
When Mr. N came in and found out I didn't record the program, he started yelling at me. I started yelling back that he could have called me at home or left a note on the VCRs or something because it wasn't my fault that the message didn't appear on my station. He said, "You don't talk that way to me! I sign your paychecks!" I said, "Okay, you can sign my last paycheck, then!" I went over to the time clock, punched out and went home.
I knew of someplace that I could get work right away, but I wouldn't be able to apply for it until the next day. Mr. N called me at home and talked me into working the last two weeks of the year. I agreed, but took the next day off so I could go apply at a call center, where I would have my next job.
After I finished the year, I never went back. The only time I had contact with the company was when I had moved and had to make certain they knew where to send my W-2. However, I still had to drive by the place on a regular basis because it was on the way to Downtown San Diego.
Since then, TV news monitoring companies have become practically obsolete. A lot of TV news operations now post almost all of their stories on YouTube, where anyone can watch and download for free. New Monitoring Services ceased to exist sometime in the last 12 years. However, I see that one of our competitors is still up and running and provides content digitally. I guess that's for those times that the news stations don't post a certain story. I can't imagine they make a lot of money.
But there would still be a need for radio monitoring. No one records radio programming and puts it on YouTube.
I'm glad I got out while the getting was good. And as it would turn out, this wouldn't be the last job at a company that would become obsolete. That would apply to my next job as well, but it's going to be a while before I get to that one.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Monday, May 30, 2016
Job #17: News Monitoring Services Era (1993 - 2000), Part 1
In my search for a job in 1993, I came across a help wanted listing for a company called Video Monitoring Services, known as VMS. They were looking for news monitors. I didn't know what that was, but I figured it was another telemarketing scam. I showed up at their office in Downtown San Diego. They told me they had filled up all their available positions, but asked me to do an application for their waitlist. I filled one out and left.
Soon after, I found another ad for news monitoring. This company was News Monitoring Services and they were located in the Kearny Mesa area. I went up and met with the office manager, Mr. D. He told me they had two types of positions available: TV News Monitor and Radio News Monitor. The TV News Monitor would watch local TV news programs and use specially-designed software to summarize the stories, take notes of people who get interviewed and any products or services that receive air-time. The company had a sales staff that would contact the companies mentioned in the stories and try to get them to purchase videotape copies of the news reports. The TV News Monitor position did not do sales. The Radio News Monitor was required to try to get the companies to purchase cassette tapes of the programs, but that person would get a commission off of the sales. Of course, I wanted the TV News Monitor position. (For as long as I worked there, they never had someone in the Radio News Monitor position.)
Because of my degree in Radio/TV Communications, I was pretty much hired on the spot. At the time, the company was expanding to monitor news programs from Los Angeles so that they could compete with Audio Video Reporting in Los Angeles. They hired about 20 people to monitor the news in a round-the-clock operation. We did not receive an hourly rate. Every broadcast was assigned a certain number of points. Those points were worth about 10 cents each. The one newscast that had the most points was 100, so that meant someone would get $10 for monitoring that newscast. And if they were able to complete it in an hour, they would get $10 for that hour. However, the point system also applied to when we were learning the monitoring, so if it took three hours to complete that same newscast, it would come out to about $3.33 an hour, which was below minimum wage at the time. I'm pretty certain that was illegal, but the person who owned the company, Mr. N, was trying to get around that by not having us use timecards.
I had trouble at first trying to figure out how to properly monitor. It took me three hours to do a 30-minute newscast, which was worth only 45 points. (Yes, I got $1.50 an hour for that.) Mr. D kept coming up and saying, "Fayd, this isn't working out. You need to get these done because other people are coming in and we're running out of stations!" Yes, my first day on the job was seeing me getting threatened with being let go because I didn't receive proper training. It was a lot more complex than the way he initially described and I had a lot of questions to ask. A LOT!
But I did improve my speed and was able to monitor on a 1:1 time ratio. Since a lot of broadcast time is taken up by commercials, zipping through those allowed me to spend a little time properly monitoring the stories. I was actually close to making that $10 an hour.
They started assigning me specific newscasts. I would come in around 4am to do the 3 1/2 hours' worth of news programming that KCAL had every night. After monitoring the first 1 1/2 hours, the last two pretty much repeated the same stories and I could get through them a lot faster. At the time, I wasn't really needing for hours because I had another job and I still had unemployment coming in, albeit on a limited basis because I still wasn't working a full 40 hours every week. But it was more dependable than the other job.
One night, I overslept and didn't make the early morning time for my other job (which required a three hour transport), so I called Mr. D and asked if they had anything they needed monitoring. He said they still had KCAL that needed to be done. It was nice to be able to make up for those hours I was going to lose from the other job.
Monitoring KCAL increased my enjoyment of a certain movie. I went to see "Short Cuts," which takes place in Los Angeles. I was with my brother Loyd. In the film, Bruce Davison's character is a commentator at KCAL. At one point, they show him sitting in the studio at the news desk. Sitting at the desk with him was Jerry Dunphy, the anchor for KCAL's newscast. When I saw him on the screen, I excitedly turned to Loyd and said, "Oh, my gosh! That's Jerry Dunphy! This is so LA!"
I was at work at 4:30am on 01/17/94. We felt an earthquake. The walls rattled somewhat, but there was no damage. About a minute later, Mr. N called and told Mr. D to start rolling tape on all the stations. Mr. N happened to be at the recording apartment and he started rolling on all the VCRs there. We didn't realize it at the time, but we were 100 miles away from the epicenter of the Northridge quake. There was all kinds of chaos for the next several weeks and I saw a lot of it unfold in the news coverage.
Through the next few months, we lost a lot of the monitors that were hired around the time I came into the company. A lot of them left because of the behavior of Mr. N. (I will go into more detail about him in a later post, but it should be noted that the majority of the problems with News Monitoring Service were directly related to him.) In addition, we were being so competitive with AVR-LA that they made an offer to buy us out. Because of that, the company went back to focusing on San Diego broadcasts. We even had a specific date that we would be considered an AVR affiliate. However, something happened that I don't have the full details to. Mr. N continued to own the company, although he made it clear that he was angry the AVR deal never went through.
During the LA monitoring era, we tended to ignore the local morning newscasts, which mostly consisted of repeating the same stories and reporter packages from the afternoon and evening newscasts the day before. When we were supposed to be taken over by AVR, Mr. D asked me to come in and monitor the morning newscasts as one of the local independent stations. KUSI, had just started a morning news program. Mr D noticed they were doing a lot of in-studio interviews on topics that we would be able to sell to our clients so he wanted us to be able to increase our inventory that way.
This meant I no longer had to be in at 4am every morning. I would come in around 7am and spend my time monitoring all the morning and midday news programs. I was usually done by around 1pm and had the rest of the day to myself.
Up to this point, this was the best job I'd ever had. I made a living watching TV. But like any relationship, it had its highs and lows. As usual, the lows would get very low.
More on that tomorrow.
Soon after, I found another ad for news monitoring. This company was News Monitoring Services and they were located in the Kearny Mesa area. I went up and met with the office manager, Mr. D. He told me they had two types of positions available: TV News Monitor and Radio News Monitor. The TV News Monitor would watch local TV news programs and use specially-designed software to summarize the stories, take notes of people who get interviewed and any products or services that receive air-time. The company had a sales staff that would contact the companies mentioned in the stories and try to get them to purchase videotape copies of the news reports. The TV News Monitor position did not do sales. The Radio News Monitor was required to try to get the companies to purchase cassette tapes of the programs, but that person would get a commission off of the sales. Of course, I wanted the TV News Monitor position. (For as long as I worked there, they never had someone in the Radio News Monitor position.)
Because of my degree in Radio/TV Communications, I was pretty much hired on the spot. At the time, the company was expanding to monitor news programs from Los Angeles so that they could compete with Audio Video Reporting in Los Angeles. They hired about 20 people to monitor the news in a round-the-clock operation. We did not receive an hourly rate. Every broadcast was assigned a certain number of points. Those points were worth about 10 cents each. The one newscast that had the most points was 100, so that meant someone would get $10 for monitoring that newscast. And if they were able to complete it in an hour, they would get $10 for that hour. However, the point system also applied to when we were learning the monitoring, so if it took three hours to complete that same newscast, it would come out to about $3.33 an hour, which was below minimum wage at the time. I'm pretty certain that was illegal, but the person who owned the company, Mr. N, was trying to get around that by not having us use timecards.
I had trouble at first trying to figure out how to properly monitor. It took me three hours to do a 30-minute newscast, which was worth only 45 points. (Yes, I got $1.50 an hour for that.) Mr. D kept coming up and saying, "Fayd, this isn't working out. You need to get these done because other people are coming in and we're running out of stations!" Yes, my first day on the job was seeing me getting threatened with being let go because I didn't receive proper training. It was a lot more complex than the way he initially described and I had a lot of questions to ask. A LOT!
But I did improve my speed and was able to monitor on a 1:1 time ratio. Since a lot of broadcast time is taken up by commercials, zipping through those allowed me to spend a little time properly monitoring the stories. I was actually close to making that $10 an hour.
They started assigning me specific newscasts. I would come in around 4am to do the 3 1/2 hours' worth of news programming that KCAL had every night. After monitoring the first 1 1/2 hours, the last two pretty much repeated the same stories and I could get through them a lot faster. At the time, I wasn't really needing for hours because I had another job and I still had unemployment coming in, albeit on a limited basis because I still wasn't working a full 40 hours every week. But it was more dependable than the other job.
One night, I overslept and didn't make the early morning time for my other job (which required a three hour transport), so I called Mr. D and asked if they had anything they needed monitoring. He said they still had KCAL that needed to be done. It was nice to be able to make up for those hours I was going to lose from the other job.
Monitoring KCAL increased my enjoyment of a certain movie. I went to see "Short Cuts," which takes place in Los Angeles. I was with my brother Loyd. In the film, Bruce Davison's character is a commentator at KCAL. At one point, they show him sitting in the studio at the news desk. Sitting at the desk with him was Jerry Dunphy, the anchor for KCAL's newscast. When I saw him on the screen, I excitedly turned to Loyd and said, "Oh, my gosh! That's Jerry Dunphy! This is so LA!"
I was at work at 4:30am on 01/17/94. We felt an earthquake. The walls rattled somewhat, but there was no damage. About a minute later, Mr. N called and told Mr. D to start rolling tape on all the stations. Mr. N happened to be at the recording apartment and he started rolling on all the VCRs there. We didn't realize it at the time, but we were 100 miles away from the epicenter of the Northridge quake. There was all kinds of chaos for the next several weeks and I saw a lot of it unfold in the news coverage.
Through the next few months, we lost a lot of the monitors that were hired around the time I came into the company. A lot of them left because of the behavior of Mr. N. (I will go into more detail about him in a later post, but it should be noted that the majority of the problems with News Monitoring Service were directly related to him.) In addition, we were being so competitive with AVR-LA that they made an offer to buy us out. Because of that, the company went back to focusing on San Diego broadcasts. We even had a specific date that we would be considered an AVR affiliate. However, something happened that I don't have the full details to. Mr. N continued to own the company, although he made it clear that he was angry the AVR deal never went through.
During the LA monitoring era, we tended to ignore the local morning newscasts, which mostly consisted of repeating the same stories and reporter packages from the afternoon and evening newscasts the day before. When we were supposed to be taken over by AVR, Mr. D asked me to come in and monitor the morning newscasts as one of the local independent stations. KUSI, had just started a morning news program. Mr D noticed they were doing a lot of in-studio interviews on topics that we would be able to sell to our clients so he wanted us to be able to increase our inventory that way.
This meant I no longer had to be in at 4am every morning. I would come in around 7am and spend my time monitoring all the morning and midday news programs. I was usually done by around 1pm and had the rest of the day to myself.
Up to this point, this was the best job I'd ever had. I made a living watching TV. But like any relationship, it had its highs and lows. As usual, the lows would get very low.
More on that tomorrow.
Friday, May 27, 2016
When you've got nothing better to post...
I needed to put something up today, so I just slapped this together.
We decided to remodel our bathtub. The company we hired, Bath Fitter, was supposed to put an acrylic shell over our existing bathtub. However, when they started the work, they found a lot of dry rot in the floor underneath the existing cast iron tub. They told us we needed to get rid of the tub and have the floor repaired before they could complete the remodeling. So, we had to hire someone else to come in, remove the tub and stabilize the floor. Then they came back and installed a free-standing tub. We had to go a few weeks without our bathtub. Fortunately, there's another bathtub in our house that we could use.
We decided to remodel our bathtub. The company we hired, Bath Fitter, was supposed to put an acrylic shell over our existing bathtub. However, when they started the work, they found a lot of dry rot in the floor underneath the existing cast iron tub. They told us we needed to get rid of the tub and have the floor repaired before they could complete the remodeling. So, we had to hire someone else to come in, remove the tub and stabilize the floor. Then they came back and installed a free-standing tub. We had to go a few weeks without our bathtub. Fortunately, there's another bathtub in our house that we could use.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Bedmate #1: Joz
(What's a Bedmate? Click here!)
I found Joz through the personal ads. I don't recall exactly what hers said. But she did call me back.
She was 21 years old. She told me she had already been married and divorced. Her husband was an older man who owned a ranch and was rather wealthy. She had gotten pregnant. At one point, her husband got mad at her and punched her in the stomach. This caused her to have a miscarriage, and it turned out to be twins. He swore he'd never let that happen again and started treating her like a princess. But she didn't like this either because it didn't feel genuine. She filed for the divorce and I don't think she got any money out of it. (But also, she could have been making all this up as I was somehow prone to finding women who liked to do that.)
She told me that she sort of had an actual boyfriend at the time, but wanted to make friends and that's why she posted the ad. She still wanted to meet me and gave me directions to her house. I came up. She was pretty much how she described herself. She had long blond hair and light blue eyes. She was also a little overweight, but it didn't bother me. She had a rather flirtatious personality. Her "boyfriend" was also there at the time.
She lived in a standalone building with one room behind a house. She was technically the roommate of the woman who lived in the house, but the building didn't have a bathroom. She had a waterbed, dresser, TV, VCR and phone in there.
With her "boyfriend," she was the first real girlfriend he'd ever been with, so he didn't start getting all jealous because she kept having guys coming up to meet her from the personal ad. She told me that she had arranged to have one guy come over, but when he saw the "boyfriend," he got upset and left.
We started making inroads to becoming friends. I would go up every once in a while to hang out with her. Sometimes, the boyfriend would be there. Sometimes, he wouldn't be. Sometimes, other guys would show up. It was a strange friendship, but I didn't have anywhere else I could go where I could hang out with someone, so I would spend a lot of time there.
The woman who lived in the main house had a child. She had divorced the father, but he would come around at least once a month to drop off the child support money. And when he did, he would demand sex from her before he would hand the money over. She would always oblige. I was never around when this happened. The woman had a boyfriend who was around most of the time. Once he saw me and asked what the deal was with me coming up all the time to see Joz. He was kind of being intimidating about it. I told him all I was doing was hanging out. Joz had to yell at him to back off. I have no idea what was going on.
During our initial conversations, Joz told me that she preferred not to be in bed alone at night. One evening, we were spending time together and I was the only one there. She asked me to spend the night and sleep in the bed with her. I had actually been hoping that this was going to happen sometime, and it did. I didn't have any expectations about what was going to happen. We both fell asleep on the bed and never once touched each other the entire night.
However, I did wake up in the middle of the night and needed to go to the bathroom. I knew I couldn't go in the house and I knew I couldn't hold it in until morning, so I peed in the backyard and hoped no one saw me. When we woke up in the morning, I simply went home. Nothing happened.
And that was the extent of her being a bedmate. I never got to spend the night there again. But we did get to go on an actual date. We went out to eat at the Corvette Diner in Hillcrest. It was across the street from the Hillcrest Cinemas, where I used to work. I was rather familiar with the management there because I would provide them with passes that they could give to their customers.
When we went, I saw one of the managers and called to her. She remembered me. Joz and I sat down to order. I didn't tell her to do this, but she ordered one of the cheapest things on the menu. I did, too. The total came up to about what I had in my pocket. Then the manager came over and told me that because of everything I had done in giving them passes from the theatre, the meal was on the house. It was great news! But I regretted not ordering something more expensive. (But that's probably why they decided to treat me.) I did leave a tip for the servers.
I was supposed to take Joz and drop her off at this guy's house. We got there later than she told him she would be there. This guy was in the military and Joz was being very flirty with him. This meant that I provided her meal and she probably slept with that guy. But at least I had the satisfaction of making him wait for it.
When I left Joz, I realized that I was only five minutes away from the Barona Casino. I took the money I saved from the dinner and played 21. I wound up losing it. Such is the life of a gambling addict.
I never saw Joz or spoke to her again after that night. It wouldn't surprise me if she got married to that guy. I don't recall her last name, so I can't find out where she is right now.
But I never saw her as a great loss. I never really had her to start with.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
I acquire an actual addiction
By the time I was 29 years old, I felt I'd made the right decisions on a lot of stuff throughoit my life. I never started smoking, drinking alcohol or taking drugs. However, I had done all three of these things. I was tricked into taking a puff off a cigarette. (A boy told me that if I held the cigarette an inch from my mouth and inhaled, I wouldn't breathe in any smoke. He lied to me.) My Mom and Dad let me take some sips of beer and wine. (I didn't like the taste of either.) And I got a contact high when I was in college. (But I didn't feel particularly inclined to smoke weed, even though I could have continued doing it just by freeloading.)
So, it was a shock to me that at the lowest point of my life that I would become addicted to gambling. I should point out that it never got so bad that I bet the rent, but I did blow money that could have been put to better use. The thing is, if I was winning, I didn't feel like I had a gambling problem. If I was losing, then it was an issue.
I really enjoyed playing Blackjack in Las Vegas and thought I was pretty good at it. In San Diego County in 1993, there were three Indian casinos within a 30 - 40 minute drive away: Barona, Viejas and Sycuan. I mostly went to Barona because it was the closest and they had the nicest facilities at that time. It was no hassle to play Blackjack there. (Actually, due to legal reasons, they referred to it as "Jokers Wild 21" instead of "Blackjack." The others referred to it as "21," but make no mistake, it was Blackjack.) The casinos did not bank the 21 tables. Outside businesses set up people to sit at the tables and control the banks. Individuals could also come up and bank the tables. In the long run, those businesses made quite a score off the tables. Personally, I didn't want to bank, because I never had enough money. But knowing my luck, I would get one of those times that the dealer goes bust every hand.
I went to Viejas once. At the time, it was just this single building with a dirt parking lot. I sat down at a table with a sign that said the minimum bet was $5. An individual was banking the table and there was one older woman playing. I put a $5 chip on the table and the banker said, "No, the minimum bet is $10!" "The sign says $5." "I don't care what the sign says. I say it's $10!" "The sign says $5." The dealer called over the pit boss and he told the banker that he had to comply with what the sign said. He picked up his chips and left. The dealer gave me my $5 chip back. I guess that guy had been bullying the older woman into playing $10 a hand.
There was one other 21 table open. There was an available seat, so I took it and started playing. Then the banker from the other table sat down. And it appeared that almost everyone at this table were trying to be bankers. The way it worked, a person could bank for the entire duration of a shoe of cards as long as they were able to back up the bets. Once the shoe was over or the banker ran out of money, the ability to bank would be offered to the next player. However, in order to bank the next shoe, you have to be playing a few hands before the banker changes. This guy didn't play. He just sat there and waited for his turn to bank. He was telling another banker about what had happened at the other table in which the casino wouldn't allow him to set the table limit (which he was doing because there was only one other person playing). The other banker said, "That's not right!" I decided to never set foot at that casino again. But Viejas managed to expand into a large shopping center within the next five years.
As for Sycuan, I couldn't figure out how I could play the table games. I guess there was a waiting list I was supposed to sign up for. I wasted a lot of time trying to find it, so I never went back there again.
Typically on payday, I would take care of my bills first. Then, I would get my groceries. If I had about $40 left over, I would try to turn that into more money so I could do stuff like go to the movies. I would drive up to Barona and try my luck. If I won, great! If not, that 30 minute drive back home felt like an hour.
Gambling hit something in my brain that sparked so many levels of experience. There's the strategizing, figuring out the odds, the rush when you win a risky bet and the short-term depression that sets in when you weren't expecting to lose. So many highs and lows. I know that if I had taken up any of the other bad habits, I could have become just as addicted to those. When I had the gambling problem, I could at least say that it was better to blow the money gambling than to use it on cigarettes, alcohol or drugs.
Once I got back on my feet about a year later, I didn't go to the casino so much. But I would probably go about once a month and lose money that I didn't need to. This routine pretty much continued until I moved from San Diego in 2003. The place I moved to, San Jose, didn't have any Indian casinos close by. The nearest one is an hour's drive away and the nearest really nice one is two hours away.
I thought my gambling problem was behind me, but I was wrong. Ms. Ogolon wanted to go to the nice casino and it wasn't long before she wanted to go up more often. During the period of time in which she was wrestling with her demons, she would call in sick and we'd drive the two hours to get the casino. If I didn't have a gambling problem myself, I probably could have kept that from happening.
We stopped going after our son was born. Sometimes, it takes a major life change like that to help avoid returning to an addiction, but that doesn't always work with everyone.
So, it was a shock to me that at the lowest point of my life that I would become addicted to gambling. I should point out that it never got so bad that I bet the rent, but I did blow money that could have been put to better use. The thing is, if I was winning, I didn't feel like I had a gambling problem. If I was losing, then it was an issue.
I really enjoyed playing Blackjack in Las Vegas and thought I was pretty good at it. In San Diego County in 1993, there were three Indian casinos within a 30 - 40 minute drive away: Barona, Viejas and Sycuan. I mostly went to Barona because it was the closest and they had the nicest facilities at that time. It was no hassle to play Blackjack there. (Actually, due to legal reasons, they referred to it as "Jokers Wild 21" instead of "Blackjack." The others referred to it as "21," but make no mistake, it was Blackjack.) The casinos did not bank the 21 tables. Outside businesses set up people to sit at the tables and control the banks. Individuals could also come up and bank the tables. In the long run, those businesses made quite a score off the tables. Personally, I didn't want to bank, because I never had enough money. But knowing my luck, I would get one of those times that the dealer goes bust every hand.
I went to Viejas once. At the time, it was just this single building with a dirt parking lot. I sat down at a table with a sign that said the minimum bet was $5. An individual was banking the table and there was one older woman playing. I put a $5 chip on the table and the banker said, "No, the minimum bet is $10!" "The sign says $5." "I don't care what the sign says. I say it's $10!" "The sign says $5." The dealer called over the pit boss and he told the banker that he had to comply with what the sign said. He picked up his chips and left. The dealer gave me my $5 chip back. I guess that guy had been bullying the older woman into playing $10 a hand.
There was one other 21 table open. There was an available seat, so I took it and started playing. Then the banker from the other table sat down. And it appeared that almost everyone at this table were trying to be bankers. The way it worked, a person could bank for the entire duration of a shoe of cards as long as they were able to back up the bets. Once the shoe was over or the banker ran out of money, the ability to bank would be offered to the next player. However, in order to bank the next shoe, you have to be playing a few hands before the banker changes. This guy didn't play. He just sat there and waited for his turn to bank. He was telling another banker about what had happened at the other table in which the casino wouldn't allow him to set the table limit (which he was doing because there was only one other person playing). The other banker said, "That's not right!" I decided to never set foot at that casino again. But Viejas managed to expand into a large shopping center within the next five years.
As for Sycuan, I couldn't figure out how I could play the table games. I guess there was a waiting list I was supposed to sign up for. I wasted a lot of time trying to find it, so I never went back there again.
Typically on payday, I would take care of my bills first. Then, I would get my groceries. If I had about $40 left over, I would try to turn that into more money so I could do stuff like go to the movies. I would drive up to Barona and try my luck. If I won, great! If not, that 30 minute drive back home felt like an hour.
Gambling hit something in my brain that sparked so many levels of experience. There's the strategizing, figuring out the odds, the rush when you win a risky bet and the short-term depression that sets in when you weren't expecting to lose. So many highs and lows. I know that if I had taken up any of the other bad habits, I could have become just as addicted to those. When I had the gambling problem, I could at least say that it was better to blow the money gambling than to use it on cigarettes, alcohol or drugs.
Once I got back on my feet about a year later, I didn't go to the casino so much. But I would probably go about once a month and lose money that I didn't need to. This routine pretty much continued until I moved from San Diego in 2003. The place I moved to, San Jose, didn't have any Indian casinos close by. The nearest one is an hour's drive away and the nearest really nice one is two hours away.
I thought my gambling problem was behind me, but I was wrong. Ms. Ogolon wanted to go to the nice casino and it wasn't long before she wanted to go up more often. During the period of time in which she was wrestling with her demons, she would call in sick and we'd drive the two hours to get the casino. If I didn't have a gambling problem myself, I probably could have kept that from happening.
We stopped going after our son was born. Sometimes, it takes a major life change like that to help avoid returning to an addiction, but that doesn't always work with everyone.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Loyd comes for a visit
Late in 1993, my brother Loyd was driving a truck from the refinery in Artesia, NM to Los Angeles. He wanted to take the opportunity to come spend some time with me and asked me to come pick him where he had to drop off the truck. He said he would be getting a great deal of money, so he would be able to afford to pay his way.
While I was in LA, I wanted to see "Short Cuts" in 70mm. It was showing at a movie theater in Westwood. After I picked up Loyd, I drove him to the bank so he could cash the check he received. We went to where the film was showing and bought tickets. However, we still had more than an hour to kill before the movie started. Loyd suggested we pop by and see a couple of our cousins who he said lived nearby. I asked him where. "San Bernardino." "Oh, Loyd, you have no idea how large the LA area is. That's an hour and a half away. You don't just 'pop in' to San Bernardino." We got something to eat and then went into the movie. Loyd was really tired from driving, but managed to stay awake during the 3-plus-hour film.
We drove back to San Diego. Loyd slept most of the way there. We got to the apartment and he just crashed.
There was a day that I wasn't working and Loyd wanted to drive up to San Bernardino to see our cousins. We went up and spent the day there. Mostly all we did was hang out, visit, play games and listen to music. It was nice because it meant I didn't need to spend any money. We came back home that night.
While I had to be at work one day, Loyd decided he wanted to go see "Addams Family Values." I drove him to the same movie theater where I'd see it with Criz. He would just have to walk back home, which included having to hike up a 15% grade for about a half-mile. When he got to the top, he had forgotten how to get home, but he found a nearby market he had been to before and was able to navigate from there. I asked him how he liked the movie. He said it was really short and hard to follow. I immediately realized he had walked into the wrong auditorium that started the movie at an earlier time. I offered to drive him back so he could see the first half hour, but he declined.
Loyd was also expecting to receive a check at the place he used to live with some friends in San Marcos, TX. He called his friends. Yes, they had received the check. And they had already cashed it. And spent the money. WHAT? (I guess they thought he didn't know he was going to be getting a check so they decided to help themselves.) Loyd got one of them to send him a check for the amount he was supposed to receive. Somehow, he managed to talk my roommate Hudd into depositing that check and cashing it out. Hudd obliged and Loyd treated us all to lunch at a Mexican restaurant.
Loyd's plan was to buy a used car for real cheap and drive it back to New Mexico. He was able to find a car he could buy about a block away from the apartment. It didn't run, but he was certain he could fix it. So that's how he spent most of the next two weeks. He would enlist my help from time to time. At one point, he had me turn the key for the ignition. Loyd would signal me when to let go of the key. The starter would keep turning over, but the car wouldn't start. This went on for about five minutes. I asked, "Loyd, are we TRYING to start the car?" "Yes." "Well, I need to step on the gas pedal." "NO! Gas is coming through the line. You DO NOT need to step on the gas pedal." "I can tell that the engine will start if I step on the gas." "NO! YOU'LL FLOOD THE ENGINE!" "If I step on it just one time, IT WILL NOT FLOOD THE ENGINE!" Loyd relented and allowed me to briefly step on the gas pedal ONE TIME. I did that and the car started right away. Loyd looked at me and then made a "We're not worthy" gesture with his arms.
But starting the car was half the battle. The other half was getting it to continuously run. Loyd was able to get it to run enough that we could drive it to a mechanic in Pacific Beach, whom he hoped could diagnose the problem so that he would know what to fix. But on the way back, the car stopped running while we were on I-5. I saw Loyd pull over to the shoulder behind me. I also pulled over next to a call box. I was able to get AAA to come out and tow the car back. We were just a little outside the 7 mile range for the free towing, but the tow truck driver was cool and brought it back to our original location on Texas St.
Now that Loyd knew what he needed to fix, he had to get the parts. But he didn't have much money left over and still needed to get back to New Mexico. He had to ask the woman he bought the car from if she would loan him some money. She wouldn't do it. This meant we had to turn to Mom to get some money so that he could come home.
In the meantime, we got to spend Thanksgiving together. We ate at Furr's Cafeteria and saw the film "A Perfect World."
Loyd finally got the car fixed enough so that he could drive it home. We got the money from Mom and Loyd went back, and just in time. He had been staying with me for three weeks. We were starting to get on each others' nerves.
After he left, Hudd's father found out that the check Loyd gave him had bounced AND HE WAS ANGRY! He was so angry, he was threatening legal action against me and Loyd. I had to get a hold of Loyd's friend and tell him that he needed to send a cashier's check. Not a regular check and not a money order. It had to be a cashier's check made out to Hudd, or he was also going to face legal action as well. He actually sent the cashier's check and then everything was alright with the world after that.
On a sad note, one of the cousins Loyd and I had seen in San Bernardino passed away in the last couple of weeks. His life came to a rather dramatic end and I'm sorry I was never that close with him.
While I was in LA, I wanted to see "Short Cuts" in 70mm. It was showing at a movie theater in Westwood. After I picked up Loyd, I drove him to the bank so he could cash the check he received. We went to where the film was showing and bought tickets. However, we still had more than an hour to kill before the movie started. Loyd suggested we pop by and see a couple of our cousins who he said lived nearby. I asked him where. "San Bernardino." "Oh, Loyd, you have no idea how large the LA area is. That's an hour and a half away. You don't just 'pop in' to San Bernardino." We got something to eat and then went into the movie. Loyd was really tired from driving, but managed to stay awake during the 3-plus-hour film.
We drove back to San Diego. Loyd slept most of the way there. We got to the apartment and he just crashed.
There was a day that I wasn't working and Loyd wanted to drive up to San Bernardino to see our cousins. We went up and spent the day there. Mostly all we did was hang out, visit, play games and listen to music. It was nice because it meant I didn't need to spend any money. We came back home that night.
While I had to be at work one day, Loyd decided he wanted to go see "Addams Family Values." I drove him to the same movie theater where I'd see it with Criz. He would just have to walk back home, which included having to hike up a 15% grade for about a half-mile. When he got to the top, he had forgotten how to get home, but he found a nearby market he had been to before and was able to navigate from there. I asked him how he liked the movie. He said it was really short and hard to follow. I immediately realized he had walked into the wrong auditorium that started the movie at an earlier time. I offered to drive him back so he could see the first half hour, but he declined.
Loyd was also expecting to receive a check at the place he used to live with some friends in San Marcos, TX. He called his friends. Yes, they had received the check. And they had already cashed it. And spent the money. WHAT? (I guess they thought he didn't know he was going to be getting a check so they decided to help themselves.) Loyd got one of them to send him a check for the amount he was supposed to receive. Somehow, he managed to talk my roommate Hudd into depositing that check and cashing it out. Hudd obliged and Loyd treated us all to lunch at a Mexican restaurant.
Loyd's plan was to buy a used car for real cheap and drive it back to New Mexico. He was able to find a car he could buy about a block away from the apartment. It didn't run, but he was certain he could fix it. So that's how he spent most of the next two weeks. He would enlist my help from time to time. At one point, he had me turn the key for the ignition. Loyd would signal me when to let go of the key. The starter would keep turning over, but the car wouldn't start. This went on for about five minutes. I asked, "Loyd, are we TRYING to start the car?" "Yes." "Well, I need to step on the gas pedal." "NO! Gas is coming through the line. You DO NOT need to step on the gas pedal." "I can tell that the engine will start if I step on the gas." "NO! YOU'LL FLOOD THE ENGINE!" "If I step on it just one time, IT WILL NOT FLOOD THE ENGINE!" Loyd relented and allowed me to briefly step on the gas pedal ONE TIME. I did that and the car started right away. Loyd looked at me and then made a "We're not worthy" gesture with his arms.
But starting the car was half the battle. The other half was getting it to continuously run. Loyd was able to get it to run enough that we could drive it to a mechanic in Pacific Beach, whom he hoped could diagnose the problem so that he would know what to fix. But on the way back, the car stopped running while we were on I-5. I saw Loyd pull over to the shoulder behind me. I also pulled over next to a call box. I was able to get AAA to come out and tow the car back. We were just a little outside the 7 mile range for the free towing, but the tow truck driver was cool and brought it back to our original location on Texas St.
Now that Loyd knew what he needed to fix, he had to get the parts. But he didn't have much money left over and still needed to get back to New Mexico. He had to ask the woman he bought the car from if she would loan him some money. She wouldn't do it. This meant we had to turn to Mom to get some money so that he could come home.
In the meantime, we got to spend Thanksgiving together. We ate at Furr's Cafeteria and saw the film "A Perfect World."
Loyd finally got the car fixed enough so that he could drive it home. We got the money from Mom and Loyd went back, and just in time. He had been staying with me for three weeks. We were starting to get on each others' nerves.
After he left, Hudd's father found out that the check Loyd gave him had bounced AND HE WAS ANGRY! He was so angry, he was threatening legal action against me and Loyd. I had to get a hold of Loyd's friend and tell him that he needed to send a cashier's check. Not a regular check and not a money order. It had to be a cashier's check made out to Hudd, or he was also going to face legal action as well. He actually sent the cashier's check and then everything was alright with the world after that.
On a sad note, one of the cousins Loyd and I had seen in San Bernardino passed away in the last couple of weeks. His life came to a rather dramatic end and I'm sorry I was never that close with him.
Monday, May 23, 2016
Personal Ad Tease #6: Criz
(What's a Personal Ad Tease? Click here!)
When I finally felt like I had gotten my financial footing, I decided to restart my pursuit for a girlfriend. I went to the personal ads in the San Diego Reader again. I called a few ads and I got one woman to actually call me back. Her name was Criz.
She was probably a couple of years younger than me. She had an unusual home situation. Her mother died soon after she was born, so she was adopted by her grandmother. This made her Criz' mother and her aunts and uncles were Criz' brothers and sisters. When referring to them in conversation, she always said, "Mom" or "my sister/brother." Even though she told me this at the very beginning, it was still rather confusing for me.
She was a big fan of "Star Trek: The Next Generation." She had cable and every day, she would watch an episode at 6pm on a San Diego channel and then a different episode at 7pm on a Los Angeles channel. I didn't have cable, so I could only watch one episode.
Criz lived in Lemon Grove. I asked her what there was to do in Lemon Grove. She said, "Go look at the giant lemon." I'd driven past it several times. I never saw the need to get out of the car and stare at it. But this would later to me frequently saying to other people when we were trying to figure out something to do, "Hey! Let's go to Lemon Grove and look at the giant lemon!"
Normally, I try to meet a personal ad date for the first time to get something non-alcoholic to drink, like at a coffee shop. However, I'd gotten a free pair of tickets to a preview screening of "Addams Family Values." On a second phone conversation, I asked her if she wanted to go on an actual date for our first meeting and she agreed.
We planned to meet at the Hazard Center where the screening was taking place. She told me she would be wearing a green sweater. I found her fairly quickly. She looked exactly as she described herself. She was short, had dark hair that was short and curly and some freckles on her face. I found her very cute.
We got in the line and waited to be let inside the theater. We stood still for about a half hour and were able to keep a constant conversation. We went inside and I bought some popcorn and soda. (It was nice not to have to pay for the movie.)
We enjoyed the film and I walked her out to her car. I asked if I could hug her goodbye and she agreed. It seemed like we both had a good time and I looked forward to calling her again.
And I did call her a couple of days later. Again and again. There was no answer when I called. I tried calling when I knew she would be at home between 6pm and 8pm, when "STTNG" was on. Still no answer. I tried calling a few minutes before 6pm and a little after 8pm. Still no answer.
After a couple of weeks, someone answered the phone. It was her Mom. I gave her my name and phone number and asked her to give Criz the message that I called. She said she would do that. But I never got a call. I stopped trying to call her after that.
I couldn't help but wonder what happened. I mean, if I'd gotten the idea that she didn't like me during the date, it wouldn't have been a problem. But we got along so well, I thought we were right for each other.
But here's the thing: In order to avoid talking to me when I called, she would have to not pick up the phone any time it rang, every time. How were her friends supposed to contact her? I suppose it's possible she had a private line and just gave me her Mom's phone number at the house. However, she gave me that number after our first conversation and answered it when I called. And when I talked to her Mom, she made no indication that Criz had a separate number.
In today's vernacular, this would be considered "ghosting" someone. But she managed to do it with a lack of technology.
This, however, is not the end of the story. A year and a half later, Abed and I went to a midnight showing of "Batman Forever." Going into the theater, I thought I saw her there with a female friend. After we'd gotten our seats, I looked around and saw her. The friend had gotten up and gone to the concession stand. I went up to her and asked, "Is your name Criz?" "Yes." "I don't know if you remember me. My name is Fayd." "Yes, I remember you. I saw you when you came in." "How are you doing?" "I'm doing okay." Then she just smiled at me and didn't say anything else. It started getting awkward, so I said, "Okay, I'll see you later." She just kind of smiled and said, "Okay."
And that was it. I know I was hoping that she was going to offer some sort of explanation as to why she wouldn't pick up the phone or even bother to call me back, but I was hoping for way too much. I started thinking along the lines that her female friend was a little on the butchy side and maybe that's why she didn't call me back. The bad thing about thinking that was that she probably saw Abed and may have thought the same thing about me.
I never saw her again after that. I don't think she ever told me her last name, so I definitely cannot find her on the Internet. I'm not even going to try with as little information as I have.
I know I'm better off not becoming closer to her, but it still hurts that she did that to me. I know I didn't do anything to deserve being treated like that.
When I finally felt like I had gotten my financial footing, I decided to restart my pursuit for a girlfriend. I went to the personal ads in the San Diego Reader again. I called a few ads and I got one woman to actually call me back. Her name was Criz.
She was probably a couple of years younger than me. She had an unusual home situation. Her mother died soon after she was born, so she was adopted by her grandmother. This made her Criz' mother and her aunts and uncles were Criz' brothers and sisters. When referring to them in conversation, she always said, "Mom" or "my sister/brother." Even though she told me this at the very beginning, it was still rather confusing for me.
She was a big fan of "Star Trek: The Next Generation." She had cable and every day, she would watch an episode at 6pm on a San Diego channel and then a different episode at 7pm on a Los Angeles channel. I didn't have cable, so I could only watch one episode.
Criz lived in Lemon Grove. I asked her what there was to do in Lemon Grove. She said, "Go look at the giant lemon." I'd driven past it several times. I never saw the need to get out of the car and stare at it. But this would later to me frequently saying to other people when we were trying to figure out something to do, "Hey! Let's go to Lemon Grove and look at the giant lemon!"
Normally, I try to meet a personal ad date for the first time to get something non-alcoholic to drink, like at a coffee shop. However, I'd gotten a free pair of tickets to a preview screening of "Addams Family Values." On a second phone conversation, I asked her if she wanted to go on an actual date for our first meeting and she agreed.
We planned to meet at the Hazard Center where the screening was taking place. She told me she would be wearing a green sweater. I found her fairly quickly. She looked exactly as she described herself. She was short, had dark hair that was short and curly and some freckles on her face. I found her very cute.
We got in the line and waited to be let inside the theater. We stood still for about a half hour and were able to keep a constant conversation. We went inside and I bought some popcorn and soda. (It was nice not to have to pay for the movie.)
We enjoyed the film and I walked her out to her car. I asked if I could hug her goodbye and she agreed. It seemed like we both had a good time and I looked forward to calling her again.
And I did call her a couple of days later. Again and again. There was no answer when I called. I tried calling when I knew she would be at home between 6pm and 8pm, when "STTNG" was on. Still no answer. I tried calling a few minutes before 6pm and a little after 8pm. Still no answer.
After a couple of weeks, someone answered the phone. It was her Mom. I gave her my name and phone number and asked her to give Criz the message that I called. She said she would do that. But I never got a call. I stopped trying to call her after that.
I couldn't help but wonder what happened. I mean, if I'd gotten the idea that she didn't like me during the date, it wouldn't have been a problem. But we got along so well, I thought we were right for each other.
But here's the thing: In order to avoid talking to me when I called, she would have to not pick up the phone any time it rang, every time. How were her friends supposed to contact her? I suppose it's possible she had a private line and just gave me her Mom's phone number at the house. However, she gave me that number after our first conversation and answered it when I called. And when I talked to her Mom, she made no indication that Criz had a separate number.
In today's vernacular, this would be considered "ghosting" someone. But she managed to do it with a lack of technology.
This, however, is not the end of the story. A year and a half later, Abed and I went to a midnight showing of "Batman Forever." Going into the theater, I thought I saw her there with a female friend. After we'd gotten our seats, I looked around and saw her. The friend had gotten up and gone to the concession stand. I went up to her and asked, "Is your name Criz?" "Yes." "I don't know if you remember me. My name is Fayd." "Yes, I remember you. I saw you when you came in." "How are you doing?" "I'm doing okay." Then she just smiled at me and didn't say anything else. It started getting awkward, so I said, "Okay, I'll see you later." She just kind of smiled and said, "Okay."
And that was it. I know I was hoping that she was going to offer some sort of explanation as to why she wouldn't pick up the phone or even bother to call me back, but I was hoping for way too much. I started thinking along the lines that her female friend was a little on the butchy side and maybe that's why she didn't call me back. The bad thing about thinking that was that she probably saw Abed and may have thought the same thing about me.
I never saw her again after that. I don't think she ever told me her last name, so I definitely cannot find her on the Internet. I'm not even going to try with as little information as I have.
I know I'm better off not becoming closer to her, but it still hurts that she did that to me. I know I didn't do anything to deserve being treated like that.
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