Sheesh, eHarmony doesn't mess around. When they tell you they can't help you, they mean it. They mean it as in forever from that day forth, they want nothing to do with you. One strike and you are out. O-U-T out. 

How do I know this and why do I care?


A friend of my sister's was visiting for a few days. I went over for a girls' night thing. My sister's friend is divorced and hasn't had much luck meeting the sort of men with whom she wants to have a relationship. She's thinking about trying online dating to hone in on the "right" men. 

My sister said, "Trillian's done it! She knows all the sites! She can show you the ropes."


Yadda yadda yadda we were huddled around a computer looking at different online dating sites.


I haven't even thought about dating - much less dating sites - for at least three years. It brought back a lot of memories. The good, the bad and the ugly memories. 


My sister's friend liked the idea of eHarmony, or at least the idea eHarmony's marketing group presents in their advertising.


I removed my profiles (all of them, on every site) a long, long time ago. Years ago. I mean it when I say I put myself far up on the shelf. So far up on the shelf, for so long, that I'm enshrouded in a thick layer of dust and there are dust bunnies drifted up around me.


Oh. And. I never even had the opportunity to join eHarmony. I was deemed unmatchable. (Turns out they were right. Oh so very right.) 


Anyway. 


Back to present day. Me, my sister, her friend, looking at dating sites for my sister's friend. My sister told her friend about my eHarmony dis. Yadda yadda yadda we were all going to do the personality pre-screen. 

And just as yadda yadda yadda, I got this error prompt:
Seriously, eHarmony? Seriously? Seven years has passed since I attempted to turn over my love life and credit card to you. Seven years. An entire generation. People have joined up, met people, gone on dates, married, mated and divorced in that span of time. But, boy oh boy, once eHarmony doesn't deem you matchable, they close the door and lock the gate. So much for people growing and evolving. Apparently unmatchable truly means truly unmatchable. Forever, perpetuity, eternity. 


It's not that I really care because I'm certainly not interested in dating and no one's interested in dating me. But. I'm pretty sure eHarmony doesn't read this blog or have some freaky mind-tap ability. Their refusal to let me even enter the site after seven years is taking things to an extreme. It's like they're holding a stubborn grudge against me. 


Yes, sure, I could use a different email address and start from scratch. But I'm not interested in dating or using eHarmony so I'm apathetic. 


But still. Sheesh. Seven years and they won't even allow me to enter their site? 

I realize I'm a dating pariah. And an employment pariah. And a financial pariah. And a general social pariah. Believe me, I know these things about myself. I get it. And eHarmony played a role in my understanding. Their rebuff gave me a solid understanding that dating, and life in general, would not be as straight forward or easy for me as it seems to be for the average person. It was all spelled out in the personality profile eHarmony gave me as a consolation prize. They suggested that I use it to gain insight into myself. Insight into why I'm so undateable, so unmatchable that they wouldn't even take my credit card. 

And yes, yes, they deserve some integrity points for that. They didn't take my money because they knew darned well there wasn't a man within 500 miles that would be even remotely interested in me. And for that, on all the levels, I am grateful. The personality profile did help gain some valuable insight. And it was free. And put myself on the shelf and I haven't looked back. (And it this point even if I did look back it would be difficult to see through the think layer of dust.) 

But still, I've had seven years to digest what I learned from their personality profile. Seven years to learn and grow and evolve. Think maybe I deserve a second look, a second chance? Think they could give me a re-evaluation? A chance to re-assess me and see if I'm still the pariah they thought I was seven years ago? I mean, okay, yes, we know I'm worse.  Unemployed and homeless are not exactly attractive looks or things that people look for in a date. But eHarmony doesn't know I'm unemployed and can't pay my mortgage. Or do they?


Anyway. Funny as it was (is), it was a little embarrassing. I vowed to not allow it to rip open wounds that were healing nicely. So I took the mocking approach to the error prompt sentry they posted at the gate of their site. "Har har, when they say they can't find a man within 500 miles for me, they mean it! Har har." 


My sister's friend chimed in with insight from her dating research, all of it gained from women's magazines. 


"It's because you've never been married. Once you're over 30 you're statistically more dateable if you're divorced than if you've never been married."


Never mind that her statistics are based on a Cosmo survey. So much for not ripping open those wounds.

The reality is that this woman who is 12 years older than me, smokes a pack a day, is divorced with three children, barely has a high school diploma and sports a bad dye job has had a lot of dates and a few men who wanted relationships with her since her divorce four years ago. 

Whereas I, a never married non-smoker with no children and a few college degrees and hair that is a color that naturally sprouts from human heads, have not had any interaction with a male that wasn't work-related, a relative or the husband of a friend over that same four-year span. 


In a random poll of three single women over the age of 30, two divorced, one never married, the two divorced women had more dates than the never-married woman. 


But the never-married woman chose to stop trying to meet men. Or date them. Or marry one. 


So. That poll and the resulting data might be skewed. 

Or maybe not. My sister's friend was graciously welcomed onto the eHarmony site and promptly escorted to the personality profile questionnaire. She clicked her way through the many (many) questions and at the end guess what?! She passed the rigorous eHarmony screening exam! eHarmony feels confident they can find great matches for her! She was welcomed into the eHarmony community with open arms and a welcome tutorial video. 

I always kind of wondered what it was like on the other side of eHarmony's cyber velvet rope. It looks pretty nice in there. A place where a single gal out on the town can feel safe and meet quality certified eligible bachelors. Wow. eHarmony is different. My sister's friend joined up and is looking forward to mixing and mingling with the compatible fellas eHarmony has in store for her. After four years of dating since her divorce, she's anxious and ready to find a new special someone. 

She was sympathetic to me, "Awwww, gee, sorry Trill. It has to be because you've never been married. It's so unfair of them to make that kind of snap judgment." 

"Yeah, well, eHarmony is different from other dating sites. They have a reputation to uphold and all that. It's a smart marketing move. They're not rising unfavorable world of mouth reviews. If someone doesn't fit into a majority of matching dating factors, they're a risk, the cookie cutter method probably won't work. Why risk a loose cannon out there bad-mouthing them?"

My sister's friend reads a lot of self-empowerment books (recommended by women's magazines). Her knee-jerk response was, "But we're all unique and special, I don't fit into a cookie cutter standard..."


"eHarmony thinks you do." 


"We'll see who they find for me before we judge. Maybe one of my guys would like to meet you!"


Good grief. She was offering me her dating site rejects. This is truly a new low for me.


That got me thinking about my old plan of a dating site for eHarmony rejects. All the deviants, miscreants, mutts and never-married over 30s that society and eHarmony doesn't want can join and meet other social pariahs. Like an animal shelter for troubled or older, "less adoptable" pets with special needs. 

You know what I mean. You've seen the "special" section of the pet adoption sites. The "there are plenty of older animals with special needs who make loving pets. These animals need homes that can accommodate their special needs" area of pet adoption sites. The descriptions read like this: "Spike is a loyal and loving dog who loves attention and needs a home without children." "Fluffy doesn't let her deafness get in the way of her high-spirited antics. She's a playful cat who also likes long naps by the fire. She needs a home with a few extra safety precautions for a deaf animal." "Mittens is an older cat who knows what he likes and wants. He's looking for a forever home where he can age gracefully with companionship." The animals in the photos stare up at the camera with vacant eyes. Sometimes there's a glint, a last-ditch effort at sparkle eyes, but usually they look like the "befores" in those heart-wrenching ASPCA ads. They're not the fluffy, best-in-show animals showcased in pet food commercials. They're older, or they're missing parts of their ears from alley brawls, or they have bald patches in their coats, or they won't stop nipping at their own butts even long enough to take a photo. These animals have, um, "issues."


And the same can be said for eHarmony rejects. It's not about looks, necessarily, but the personality profile tells the full story if you can read between the lines. And eHarmony is very good at reading between the lines. So the eHarmony reject site profiles would read like this: "Mike is a loyal and loving guy who loves attention and needs a home without children." "Buffy doesn't let her deafness get in the way of her high-spirited antics. She's a playful gal who also likes long nights by the fire. She needs a home with a few extra safety precautions for a deaf person." "Mitzy is an older cat who knows what she likes and wants. She's looking for a forever home where she can age gracefully with companionship." 

The people in the photos could stare up at the camera with vacant eyes. A few of the more optimistic would be able to manage a glint, a last-ditch effort at sparkle eyes, but most would look like the "befores" in those heart-wrenching ASPCA ads. They're not the snazzy, best-in-show people showcased in perfume and jewelry commercials. They're older, or they're missing parts of their ears from alley brawls, or they have bald patches in their coats, or they won't stop nipping at their own butts even long enough to take a photo. These people have issues. Issues that eHarmony sussed out and held up as valid reasons not to take a chance at allowing them to enter the site. eHarmony not only doesn't want to risk failure and a bad reputation, they're playing a role in the social cleansing of the gene pool. Thank you, eHarmony, for not facilitating connections for people who are clearly not the sort of people we want going out and reproducing. 

Evolution, baby, evolution. Survival of the fittest. eHarmony has Christian roots, so I do find the irony of their very un-Jesus-like intolerance and their role in evolution really funny. 


The reason I never forged ahead with the eHarmony reject dating site plan is that there are already plenty of sites/services available for the eHarmony rejects. Match.com and it's eHarmony-esque sub-site, Chemistry.com will take anyone with a credit card or Pay-Pal account. PlentyOfFish is the Craig's list of dating sites, and the local personals section of most newspapers offers an outlet for the most undateable among us. And the thing about the personals section is that if a legit date doesn't transpire, there are always the ads for phone sex and "masseuses." 


Which is why I put myself up on the shelf. None of that is right for me. And no, I don't partake in phone sex or "massages." 


Anyway. Whatever. I don't care. And I like that I don't care. I strove for apathy and I attained it. I set an emotional goal and met it. What with LOST off the air I rarely even fantasize anymore. So I was a little annoyed that this whole eHarmony thing reared its ugly head because dating, men, relationships, companionship, romance, sex...those were the farthest things from my mind. And now, thanks to being blocked from even entering the site, banned and banished from eHarmony, the whole "why am I such a misfit" crap flared up.

It's sad to realize market researchers put more effort into accurate data analysis in developing a marketing strategy for lipstick colors than what's being accurately researched and analyzed in the state of Americans' welfare and the American economy. This says more about the weirdness in journalism and politics than it does about marketing professionals.

There are fundamental steps to garnering accurate analytical data, there is basic/standard protocol for data research and analysis and listing unemployment benefit numbers proves nothing other than how many people are collecting unemployment. Basing any conclusion on only one factor is faulty, skewed data research. A set of criteria is needed to before any conclusions (at least accurate conclusions) can be made.

This is such a basic, accepted, proven fact that it makes me think that I'm either a genius and don't realize it, or, (more likely) there are at least a couple obvious factors at play in journalism and politics. 1) "The Public" is mired in complacency borne of frustration, despair, and cynicism; 2) Politicians and journalists are in a state of desperation borne of fear.

When you only have one factor, one data set, all you have is a hypothesis, a theory. To prove/disprove that theory you analyze and research the hypothesis, establish a set of relevant criteria, collect data for each factor of relevant criteria, assess each number as a single criteria and as a factor against/with the other criteria collected, then make conclusions about the hypothesis/theory based on the factual evidence collected. 

I realize I have a somewhat unique perspective. The perspective of a marketing professional who spent agonizing spans of time waiting for the research department to develop data collection processes like consumer polls, focus groups and customer feedback just to decide how to light a photoshoot based on conclusions drawn from data analysis.

But. This is basic data analysis. Research 101. Stuff that's learned in 4th grade science and/or math classes. (Elementary school science fairs are full of projects that require basic research fundamentals.)

I know I'm not the only one who's thinking/talking about this, and yet...I see/read/hear very little about collecting all the appropriate data and revealing the accurate data.

My hypothesis are as stated above: We, The Public are so used to being fed non-news news snippets that we're jaded and complacent about demanding actual news and/or quantifiable responses from our politicians. (Well, okay, that's nothing new, the expectation bar has always been pretty low for politicians.)

I don't like to talk politics because I feel strongly that unless I (me, personally) have something to offer, a solution or at least sound suggestions that would benefit people other than myself, I need to keep my mouth shut. Stay out of the fray.

I feel the same way about journalism. There are credible news sources with integrity, who adhere to principles of journalism: accurate, factual reporting of events/issues. And then there are the news sources that either never had integrity, or, have resolved themselves to a slow, complacent, agonized existence on life-support, biding their time until they succumb to irrelevancy. There are a lot of factors: The internet, dwindling advertising revenue, The Public's dwindling attention span, The Public's thirst for celebrity gossip, The Public's growing disaffection toward news sources... (I theorize that part of the equation is that The Public is more savvy and that's lead to laziness. Why read a newspaper, or the online news, every morning or evening when you know you can a) use RSS and/or b) access the info whenever you want, whenever it works into your schedule or whenever you feel it's relevant?)

Anyway.

When the new "unemployment numbers" were announced (a 7 month low in applications!), I rolled my eyes and spat a pfft at the glaring obvious lack of research and just bad reporting. "There are at least three glaring omissions of relevant data in this 'report.' Further, no conclusions can be drawn from one factor. What editor allows this kind of slack to be published?" I knew I wasn't the only one thinking that and dismissed it as just another result of the decline of credible reporting thanks to "gotta publish it now!" mentality of internet, ahem, journalism.

And then it occurred to me that maybe there is something I can offer. Well, me and several unemployed marketing research professionals I know. It's a little cavalier, this idea of mine, and it might make a few people uncomfortable, but, hey, I (quite literally) have nothing to lose.

Here's my idea: Allow unemployed marketing professionals access to government databases.

This is an interesting idea on a lot of levels, but for the purposes of this initial experiment, let's focus on the data reporting aspect.

And let's further narrow down the depth of the experiment to just one issue: Unemployment.

So. Now we have an independent marketing team, people who spent their careers being tasked with finding quantifiable data which is then used to devise relevant creative solutions. (That's the take-away from a marketing degree, I just saved you thousands dollars in college tuition. You're welcome.)

The marketing team is asked: What is the current state of unemployment and the impact on Americans?

For anyone with data analysis experience and access to government databases this is an easy first assignment. 

What is the span of time necessary to gain full, long term insight to a long-term issue? Three years is the usual time span when looking at social/cultural impact, but other factors need to be weighed, like economic trends. The downturn took it's first real plunge in 2007. So, we'll go with four years of data. Which, in marketing terms, is a solid span/body of empirical data. Great, that was easy!

Now for the real nitty gritty. What are the relevant factors in establishing unemployment? The number of new applications for unemployment benefits? The number of people collecting unemployment benefits? Apparently a lot of journalists believe the story begins and ends there. But we're not journalists. We're marketing professionals trying to establish quantifiable, accurate data that will lead to an appropriate, on point, successful creative solution.

We examine the issue, ask relevant questions then, with our newly acquired access to government databases, we'll run some reports and analyze the numbers! Ta dah!

It's not magic and it's not even all that creative (yet). It's basic research skills with a little scientific sleuthing skill thrown in for accuracy.

Here are the numbers I would run if I had the keys to the government database kingdom.

1) Number of people who were employed in full-time permanent jobs in 2007 v. now.
2) Number of vacancies/replacements that have not been filled after full-time workers retired/voluntarily left.
3) Number of people on food stamps in 2007 v. now.
4) Number of foreclosures due to lay-off in 2007 v. now. (That number will require a little more effort, getting accurate stats with a direct correlation between loss of job:loss of home will require polling which could be difficult since foreclosed homeowners without job or unemployment benefits could be difficult to track down.) 
5) Number of recent college graduates placed in full-time jobs in 2007 v. now.
6) Number of early retirements (age 52 - 65) taken/granted in 2007 v. now.
7) Number of people with health insurance in 2007 v. now.

Unfortunately I don't have access to the appropriate data bases. Otherwise I'd do the research and present the data results. (Sorry, didn't mean to be a data tease.)

I can take a poll among my friends, family, neighbors and former colleagues. That would be a good focus group with a diverse random sample of relevant participants. (granted, the focus is pretty broad: Americans.)

"We" all know there is so much more to the unemployment/economy/job market story than what's reported. Most people with a functioning brain and a 7th grade education know the factors I listed are the relevant issues and scoff at the "reports" and insinuation that there's "good news" in the job market. And yes, yes, I know, I know if I really spent time digging around online I'd find people (bloggers, mostly) presenting some of this data.

What's sad is that we're all smart enough to know the job market and economy is not what the news media (apologies for using that overused term, I winced just typing it) is issuing as news, and yet the charade continues. What they "should" say is that they are merely reporting the unemployment numbers, no assumptions made or conclusions drawn.* Unless/until there's more research and accurate, quantifiable, relevant data available we won't know the full (horror) story of what's really going on and how bad things really are. "We" have a pretty good idea that things are really awful, but some deeper relevant stats, numbers, would allow us to draw our own conclusions based on accurate facts. Just the numbers. The bottom line.

And unemployed marketing research people are a great untapped resource for finding this data. Sorry, unemployed journalists. I know some of you are really good at what you did, and decreased advertising revenue and increased technology hammered nails in your profession's coffin, but, it happened. The Public is a little wary and weary of you. So. I'm just suggesting an alternative resource for researching and collecting data.  There are a lot of unemployed marketing people who love data and know how to accurately research. Why not allow them access to government databases? What could possibly go wrong?

Worst case scenario they use the access to obtain data that leads to insight into gaps in products/services needed by Americans. And, being marketing people, they know what to do with a gap in the consumer supply chain: Fill it!! Products! Services! Infomercials! Marketing baby, marketing!



*I have many ideas for reporting the unemployment numbers - just the numbers, mind you, not conclusions drawn from the numbers - just the facts. Here are a few.
1) Post the unemployment numbers in a little data box on the front page or under the online masthead. Like the casualty tolls published in some papers during WWII.
1 b) Post the names of all the people who were laid-off, like a military death tally, include what they did and years of service, "Michael Thompson, PhotoJournalist, 20 years" "Scott Harris, Account Manager, Hospitality, 23 years" "Liz Jackson, Health Benefits, HR, 12 years"
1 c) Okay, that would fill entire newspapers and websites, so, instead, a ticker, like the Dow Jones ticker, just under the masthead of online news sites.
2) Publish/post the names of companies who laid-off any employee, even if it was just one. We hear about the massive corporate-wide bulk layoffs, but the small layoffs that contribute to the big morass. "ScrewTek, 13 machine operators, 2 admin, 1 facility services" "Coffee Café, 2 baristas, 1 cashier"

Sure, that's all a little macabre and potentially embarrassing for the unemployed/businesses, but, it certainly personalizes the issue. Which is something marketers dream of doing. Once you reach a consumer on a personal level, you've got 'em. You still have to keep their attention, but, once a personal connection is established you have to screw up pretty badly to lose the consumer.

There are times in life when "rising above" and being a better person, you know, emotionally, is disappointing. Some people do things that are so awful we really want to be around to see the retribution. It doesn't feel like "enough" to merely know we've handled ourselves well with an evil doer. Sure, we chose to keep our mouths shut, or turn the other cheek. Or, on a truly higher level of emotional intelligence, we wish them well and give sincere hope/prayer/whatever that this person finds whatever they need to not behave/say what they're doing/saying. But still. Even so. Sometimes people do/say such horrible things to us that no matter how enlightened we are there's part of us that would really like to be a fly on the wall when that person gets hit with retribution for their actions/words against us.

Sure, you get a good night of sleep borne of integrity and self-respect because you didn't engage or succumb to their verbal or behavioral shenanigans. And it's a slumber sound in the knowledge that the person whose behaved badly, the "lesser" person in the situation, will one day reap what they sowed.

Except we are human. And sometimes it's disappointing to know that we won't be around to witness the karmic retribution bestowed upon someone who did us wrong.

This is where religion enters into the equation. The religious find solace in Judgment Day. "It's not for me to judge, but one day he'll stand accused and be judged for his actions by a higher power." That thought seems to comfort a lot of religious people and give them peace. Many also seem to find even more gleeful, almost giddy, comfort in the thought of their nemesis facing eternal damnation for their actions/words. Which isn't exactly rising above, now, is it? I'm pretty sure that's not what Jesus would do. That's just schadenfreude tinged with vindication and self-righteousness. Which doesn't exactly speak to emotional and spiritual enlightenment. And delighting in the evil-doer burning in Hell is just accusing, judging and assuming an eternal conviction with the added ugliness of arrogance and self-righteousness. Which is where/why I part ways with a lot of religions.

People on journeys of other types of spiritual and emotional enlightenment have another way of finding peace when someone does them wrong or just behaves badly, or "not as loving as one would appreciate" as my sister's hippie friends say. But it's no less sinister form of retribution. Karma. We're all riding on the Universal wheel. It's basic physics: Everything projected into a circular form will return to it's starting point. The timing depends on the torque and momentum. Sure, it's not exactly Judgment Day and damnation, and it's more self-perpetrating and self-perpetuating. (And interestingly, that's one of the few times those words both appropriate. I'm not the grammar police but sheesh, I see perpetrate and perpetuate misused a lot - ooops! That just scored me a Karmic retribution.)

In both cases, ultimately we'll be held accountable for our actions and words, good and bad. The obvious difference being One Big Final Judgement Day by a higher power resulting in either eternal happiness or eternal damnation v. self-inflicted acts of retribution. I'm all for self-accountability. If someone needs the threat/fear of a higher power and eternal damnation to make them accountable for their behavior and words, fine. If it's spiritual physics that keep someone accountable, that's great. I like the the idea that what we put "out there" comes back around and crashes into us because we're traveling in a circle so it's only a matter of time before it hits us or we hit it. The judgement is left up to us. Before doing or saying something, carefully think it through, judge your words and actions before putting them out there. Do you want to have them crash into you when you least expect it? Good stuff. 

But I'm most fond of the concept of choosing, on your own, without threat of Judgement or Karma, to be a decent human being. Just be a decent human being. Accept. Forgive. Heal. Peace. Love. Duh.

I know, I know, Kum Ba Yah.

Well, the Universe has bestowed me with either a favor or a challenge. I'm not sure which because I'm not emotionally enlightened/clever enough to know which. I'm only clever enough to know that's it may not be what it seems and that there's a lesson to be learned here.

All I can think is, "Where's Aesop when I really need him?"

When I was doing 50 First Dates I met a lot of men. Most of them were nice people, or at least decent human beings. I really liked some of them but they (obviously) didn't feel the same about me. I kept in touch with a few of the nice ones for a while, we were friends, but eventually they met women who became girlfriends, and I was painted out of the social picture. It happens. That's life. No ill will. But. Then there were the others. Some of them were weird. A few were jerks. And a couple were, well, awful.

One of the awful ones did and said some really horrible things to me. I didn't blog about it because I didn't want to perpetuate the negativity. He was the poster boy for Why Women Should Not Use Internet Dating Sites. I chalked it up to living and learning and moved on with my life. But. He really was singularly awful to me. His words and behaviors spoke to his immaturity and lack of integrity, and obviously I wasn't interested in someone like that. And the opinion of someone like that doesn't matter to me. I'm evolved and enlightened enough to know that. But, you know, I'm not the Dalai Lama and hurtful words and actions do hurt. I didn't dwell on what he did and said, but, every now and then when I had some self-doubt, he (along with other accusers of my life) crossed my mind, "Maybe he was right..." Eventually his voice faded and while I didn't forget about him (because there were lessons to be learned from my experiences with him) he hasn't exactly been on my mind for a very long time. Years.

That is until he did something very, very stupid in a very, very public forum. And now he's a public laughing stock, held up as slimy, gold-digging scammer by "the media" and the butt of jokes on blogs all over the internet.

I know. I know. You're thinking, "Ha! Way to go, Trill! You knew he was digging his own grave and now he has! You said or did nothing, you rose above his behavior, and ha! look! now he's getting what he deserves! That must feel great! Revel in this moment! It's better than revenge! It's glorious!"

Well, yeah, it kinda is. But. That's the dilemma. If I gloat, if I'm "happy" about him making such an ass of himself in such a public way, I'm not truly rising above, I'm not being truly forgiving or genuinely, well, "good." Right?

Even smug satisfaction seems kind of gloaty.

Some of you are saying, "But Trill, you said he treated you horribly. That earns you the right to a little happy dance."

Yeah, I suppose it does. He was really awful to me. And I presume that was his general behavior, and probably not just with women. I suspect his horrible behavior extended into his professional life, as well. Some of the things he said about some of his associates seemed like more than bravado. My "this guy is a pain in the ass to work with" antennae were tingling when he regaled me with stories of his professional coups.

I suppose he deserves the very public backlash he's getting, not just for the incident at hand, but for all the crappy things he's done and said in the past.

You may be sardonically smirking, "Karma's a bitch, baby."

And yes, it can be.

We're all responsible and accountable for what we do and say.

And that includes things like revenge, vindication, and pride.

Crap. That means I shouldn't go around gloating, or even feeling smugly-satisfied that this guy, this jerk, not only got what he deserves, I'm actually getting the rare opportunity to witness him getting what he deserves. That should feel really good. But it doesn't. It doesn't change my life, it doesn't make me feel vindicated. It doesn't even make me feel better about the universe in general. I don't see it as proof of some higher power at work. The guy is a jerk. Give him enough rope and he will hang himself. Done and done.

If I were Ghandi or Jesus I'd be bestowing peace and love and some positive outcome for this guy.

But. I'm not Ghandi or Jesus.

And I do feel something about his self-induced public character assassination. I suppose it's vindication, smug self-righteousness. Some would argue I deserve to feel those things. But. There's another component to this, beyond whether or not it's ever okay to feel vindicated and self-righteous.

Let's just say, for a moment, that in this case it's okay to feel smug and revel in the vindication.

Life has presented so few of these situations to me that I have no idea how to handle it. I am not prepared to feel smugly self-righteous. I don't know what to do with vindication that's been handed to me on a silver platter.

And my go-to resource for dealing with complicated stuff isn't helping. Accept. Forgive. Heal. Peace. Love. Duh. Where does this fit in that process? Healing? Peace?

Further, and more appropriate, the mirror within a mirror aspect of this is really getting to me. Yes, this falls into an existing process of accepting, forgiving and healing over a specific situation. But. I could also approach this as a new situation, which means I have to start at the beginning. I have to accept what's happening (I do, I accept that he's made a very public ass of himself), and then the tricky part. Forgiveness. Do I forgive the people who are ridiculing him? Or do I forgive him for making a public ass of himself? See? This isn't as obvious as it might seem.

I know, I know. I'm dwelling on this way too much. It's probably nothing more than the fact that I'm so inexperienced with vindication that I don't know how to handle it, and further, I'm too inept at success that I'm uncomfortable with self-righteousness.

I do know that this is a rare opportunity. Very, very seldom do we get to actually witness someone who wronged us receiving karmic retribution. And because of its rarity, I feel obligated to handle it properly.

Here's what I decided.

I asked myself, "Am I glad he's going through this?" The answer is, "What happens to him is of no consequence to me." Hence, any smug feelings of self-righteousness kind of fall apart.

However. The standard dismissive, "Couldn't happen to a nicer guy" summary seems deeply apt and more appropriate than at any other time. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy. Because a nicer guy would not do the crap he's done and would not deserve this public character flogging.

So that's where I'm leaving it. "It couldn't happen to a nicer guy."

I know, I know, every blogger and their mother is posting their Amps at 11 Playlist today. I know. But since I know a thing or two about music deserving (and undeserving) of loudest volume possible I decided it would be almost weird for me to not add my list to the millions of others.

Some are classic (predictable), others might prompt you to do a little auditory research. There are some notable absences. Choices had to be made. Difficult choices. Sophie's Choice type of choices.

To narrow down the selections I imposed a few rules. The song has to have withstood the test of time. So. Any song less than 11 years old will have to wait for the 11/11/2111 Amps at 11 Playlistalooza. That helped the selection process, but not as much as I thought. White Stripes, Arcade Fire, Arctic Monkeys, The Black Keys...sure, when they were out of the listening pool the water was a little more clear, but I was surprised to realize the 11 Years and Older Rule didn't eliminate more contenders. It was then I realized the '80s weren't as musically awful as I remember. Yes, there was a lot of really awful music, but, when it was good it was very, very good. Or at least very, very loud.

And that brought me to my next rule. Loud for the sake of loud doesn't make the list. Sorry Gwar, and Slayer, and Iron Maiden, and Queensryche, and WASP...you have some qualifying merits, but overall you're kind of all blend into a malaise of loud. (Wanna take bets at how quickly I get h8 mail over that? I give it 23 seconds.) 

Which led to my third rule. Some bands are in a loud league of their own. Loud, but loud with intentions other than LOUDEST GUITAR AND ANGRY SCREAMING GUY IN THE HISTORY OF GUITARS AND ANGY SCREAMING GUYS!!! For instance, The Ramones and The Sex Pistols. No one will argue that they have a good body of qualifying Amps at 11 work. But. They're culturally loud, too. Their anthems aren't just songs you like to play loud, they're been rites of passage for teenagers. So much so that now 14 - 15 year-olds who don't play the Sex Pistols cause parental concern.
"Honey, I'm worried about Madison. She doesn't seem to be at all interested in the Sex Pistols."
"Now, now, darling, she's probably just a late bloomer."
"That's what I thought, too, but the other day I found Sarah Bareilles in our iTunes download list. And you found that Bruno Mars download a couple weeks ago. I think we need to face facts, we've been in denial about this ever since that whole Katy Perry situation last year. We chose to look the other way but now we need admit that Madison has a problem and we need to do something about it soon or she'll fall so far behind she'll never be able to catch up. I think we should reset her iPod."
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, don't you think that's going a bit too far? If we start looking at her iPod she's going to think we don't trust her and she'll resent us."
"Do have any better ideas? She's going to be 16 in four months. She should be listening to the Sex Pistols by now. Or at least Radiohead, for crying out loud! Is there one 'Explict' or 'PMRC Warning' in her music collection? I don't think so! Liz told me Max and Chloe started listening to the Sex Pistols in 8th grade."
"Hang on a minute, that seems a little young..."
"Kids are different now, they're savvier, they're into anarchy a lot earlier than when we were growing up."

You get the point. Some bands are more than loud music, they're more than music. And yes, I struggled to define that, too. Wouldn't that make the Clash, Nirvana and Iggy Pop ineligible? See? This is really, really difficult.

One more rule emerged. Loud often means feedback. Velvet Underground, Sonic Youth, Jesus and Mary Chain. I decided that's a subset of Amps at 11 playlisting. So, if the song owes it's loudness primarily to feedback it didn't make this cut. Perhaps on 12/12/12 I'll do a Larsen Effect Playlist. 

So. Rules in place, I did the best I could to come up with choices that embody at least a few loudness factors that invoke the urge to turn the amp to 11. I tried to make it a musically comprehensive list and weighed a lot of different merits before arriving at this list.

And yes, it goes to 11. (But if you're looking for a little hearing loss inspiration, there's a more comprehensive list of my "off the top of my head" choices here.)

1. Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love, Van Halen Yes, Van Halen is so obvious and predictable it's embarrassing. We're all over the age of 8 and under the age of 65, here, I don't need to explain why it's an Amps at 11 song. Mr. Edward Van Halen. Mr. Diamond David Lee Roth. Both at their best. It's the penultimate Van Halen song, which makes it way too obvious to even mention. But. I have my reasons for including them. First, along with air guitaring, it also invokes air fist pumping. Have you ever, ever, listened to Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love at anything less than a 9 on the volume/amp meter? Yeah. Me either. No one has. When I was in high school there was a rumor about a kid who lived a couple towns over who tried to listen to it at a 3 or 4 setting. (the actual decibel level was different every time the story was told, and the lower the volume setting, the more sinister the story seemed) The story was that the kid kept getting in trouble with his parents for cranking the volume too loud. So he saved up his lawn mowing money to buy a Walkman and decent headphones. But then he got in trouble because his parents said they were a hazard to his health and they couldn't get his attention when he used them. But he still wanted to listen and air guitar to Van Halen, so he did the only thing he could: Listen to them at a volume lower than 7. 7 was the highest volume his parents would allow him to set. (In some versions of the story the dad went so far as to Super Glue a stop/block on the volume/amps sliders so the kid couldn't play anything louder than a 7 unless he broke off the home-made volume stop/block. In other versions of the story he blew the woofer and tweeter on the speakers and his parents wouldn't buy new speakers so even with the volume cranked he only got what little muffled sound the feeble mid-range could convey.) Anyway, the kid played Van Halen at a low volume setting and pretty soon he lost the desire to air guitar. Eventually he stopped punctuating the chorus with fist pumps. Then he stopped hanging out at the 7-11 after school. He started turning in his homework on time. And then someone saw him at the record store in the mall buying a, a, (gulp) Phil Collins tape. (That part of the story changed by teller, too. I heard versions where the music purchase was Elton John, Amy Grant, Will to Power, Little River Band, T'Pau...) Whoever the easy listening artist was, it was always said with that sinister horror story of voice and horrified gasps would ensue. And so, among all the other valid reasons to place them on this list, that horrific suburban legend solidifies Van Halen's place in my Amps at 11 heart and on my list. Plus, c'mon, admit it, you love this song. And you love it loud. It's universal. It's transcendent. Sure, Imagine reduces people the world over to tears. But Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love inspires people the world over to crank the volume/amps as high as they'll go, pick up air guitars and scream to no one in particular, "Ain't talkin' 'bout LOVE!!!" And I submit to you, which is the greater feat? Tears or air guitars? Thought so. Told you.
2. My Generation, The Who Do I really need to explain this choice? I triple dog dare you to attempt to listen to this with volume/amps set below 9. (I heard about a guy who tried to listen to My Generation at a low volume and Keith Moon's ghost crashed through the front window, turned up the volume and ripped off the volume knob on the stereo then threw a lamp into the television and then puked afterlife goo all over the living room rug.)
3. Beauty and the Beast, Bowie I took this song on and off my list several times before I settled on placing it at #3, primarily for Fripp's scratchy on-the-verge-of-mad-scientist guitar work, precursor of true mad-science-guitarmanship that followed on Scary Monsters (also an Amps at 11 song). Heroes is obviously an incredible body of work and many of the songs are best played loud. But. Bowie isn't generally an Amps at 11 guy. I love him, but, I don't "need" to crank him loud to be one with him his music. (I find I prefer Ziggy at a lower volume, it feels more story-tellerish at a lower volume. Ditto Heathen.) So this was a tough call for me. If this were an Amps at 20 list there would have been no question, he'd be on without hesitation. But, for sentimental reasons, deep affection, solid musicianship and vocal/guitar work, and gosh darn it, we just like him, I chose to add him. Once that decision was made, Heroes was the only real album choice. But the song choice was a tough call. Another Sophie's Choice. Beauty and the Beast only barely edged out Heroes. The chanthem choruses were ultimately the decision-maker. "Something in the night, something in the day, nothing is wrong but darling something's in the way...Nothing will corrupt us, nothing will compete, thank God Heaven left us tanding on our feet" and then the maniacal "My, my!" I dunno. And it's that inexplicable something that sealed the Amps at 11 deal for me. If you can't explain it, if it just "is," then it deserves a place on the list.
4. She Sells Sanctuary, The Cult I'm gonna get a lotta guff for this one. But. Guff be damned, I like The Cult. And I like this song. And I like it loud. Real loud. Really, really, really loud. From the intro to the fade out, it's one big, brilliant, loud, amp fest. Like Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love, She Sells Sanctuary is an obvious and predictable choice (if not She Sells Sanctuary, then Love Removal Machine). But every year older this song gets, the better it sounds. And even though the songs are lyrically thin with inane titles (if you never understood all of what Ian Astbury is singing, trust me, you're not missing much, "Oh, the Texas sun, makes my back burn...and the world, the world turns around, and the world, the world drags me down." That's pretty much the lyrical gist of the entire song) they're so powerfully sung the content doesn't really matter. This dude sings so forcefully and intensely that apparently that Texas sun really made his back burn and he wants the entire galaxy to know about it. And Astbury is backed by not just loud, but loud and interesting guitarwork of Billy Duffy. Like My Generation, I triple dog dare you to try to not play this song loud. Real loud. Part of the reason it made the cut is that it's also guilty of earworming anyone who hears even just a few bars of it.
5. London Calling, Clash This is a tough call. Along with AC/DC and the Pixies, almost every song recorded by them is an Amps at 11 Song, so how does one choose just one? My top contenders were Straight to Hell (the intro is a top volume must), Clampdown, Career Opportunities, Radio Clash, and Should I Stay or Should I Go, but I'm going with London Calling because of the scream-along-with-Joe howling bits and the apocalyptic anger-ridden lyrics. And there are personal sentimental reasons. I spent most of my teenage years riding/driving around a very small town in my parent's or a friend's parent's car drinking Slurpees® and screaming along with this song cranked at top volume when we were allegedly at the library at SAT study group. The irony of dorky suburban girls in braces, sneakers and Timex watches blowing off studying for college entrance exams in order to listen to the Clash was not lost on us. Mercifully, in spite of this miscreant behavior, we all managed to earn college-entry-worthy scores on our SATs.
6. The Passenger, Iggy Pop Iggy has a voice that was born for amps that go to 11. Like bagpipes, even when you listen to him at a low volume he's loud. I chose The Passenger because it's a brilliant piece of poetry and because of the post-Stooges, um, "maturity" of Iggy's voice throughout all of Lust for Life. I also chose it because of the fantastic guitar work on The Passenger. (Trivia moment: Bowie does backing vocals.) And I chose it because it's a quintessential road trip song, and something about road trips brings out the amps at 11 desire in me (and a lot of other people). Many a dark lonely roads in the middle of night have seen me slicing through the miles with me and Iggy singing, "I am the passenger, and I ride and I ride, la la la la la lala la laaaaah." Even when I start out listening at a lower volume when the last refrains are playing I notice the volume has somehow been turned up. Way up.
7. Money Talks, AC/DC It was only a matter of how to choose just one AC/DC song. This is the ultimate Sophie's Choice of Amps at 11 playlisting. Their entire catalog is Amps at 11. So I went with the one that most often puts me at risk of a disturbing the peace citation. Which one best represents my Amps at 11ness? Long Way to the Top (if You Want to Rock and Roll) was tied for Money Talks. Bagpipes are loud. There's no possible way to play bagpipes quietly. Or listen to them quietly. Therefore, because Long Way to the Top contains bagpipe solos (plural) by default it should land a spot on any Amps at 11 list. And, like ?'s organ use, the unconventionality of the instrument in a hard rocking song could secure that position. See? I'm making a case for Long Way to the Top and not my final choice, Money Talks. This speaks to the Sophie's Choice nature of the choosing the right AC/DC song for this list. I'm going with Money Talks because the vocals are slightly stronger and the chorus begs to be yelled. "C'mon, c'mon, love me for the money, c'mon, c'mon, listen to the money talk!" Yeah, good times.
8. Sex on Wheels, My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult Six words, screamsung at lungs at 11, "Hard body Motor City, LOVE LIFE!!!!" Then add the screeching tire intro, the blaring horn bridges and did I scream, "HARD BODY MOTOR CITY LOVE LIFE!!!" loud enough? This is another staple of my road trips. But it's more than that. It's banal and sexy and dirty and funny and loud, loud, loud, LOUD and I love it and I love it loud. 
9. Creep, Radiohead Do I really need to explain or justify this one? The only surprise (to me) is that this song is (well) over 11 years old. Holy what the Hell am I doin' here, where did those years go? Creep passes all the Amps at 11 litmus tests and makes up a few of its own.
10. Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana I know, it's so obvious. And yes. There are "better" Nirvana songs, and louder Nirvana songs, and less obvious Nirvana songs. But. Nothing screams LOUD MUSIC like frustrated, sarcastic, disaffected teenagers and Smells Like Teen Spirit is the international anthem for disaffected sarcasm borne of frustration. And the "Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, how low" line sounds best with every amp gauge as far up as it will go. And then there is that Most Brilliant 2 Chord Slide in rock guitarmanship. It should be illegal to play it with amps/volume set less than 10. Parents, neighbors, police be damned. 
11. Planet of Sound, Pixies Of course. Duh. I'm still me. There's no way possible the Pixies wouldn't make the top, the loudest, the 11th spot on my Amps at 11 Playlist. This was another horrible Sophie's Choice choice. Debaser. Gigantic. Lions and Tigers. Velouria. Manta Ray. Gouge Away. Hey! Where is My Mind. Alec Eiffel. Is She Weird. Tame. Monkey Gone to Heaven. Levitate Me. Subcultcha...man, it hurts me to just think about all the choices. And yes, yes, through the decision process I kept hearing Frank screaming "DEBAAAASSSSSER!!!!" and I swear there he said, "DUH, TRILL, DEBAAAASSSSSER!!!" But when it comes to the Pixies there's no obvious choice, no one right choice. I chose Planet of Sound because it's the loudest song I know. And I'm certain I have suffered severe permanent hearing loss from listening to this song through stereo speakers, car speakers, headphones and of course waaaay too close to the stage at many (many) live shows. Planet of Sound inched ahead of the other choices because, well, it's brilliant. My estimation of the most brilliant rock song ever. From the first hard hit note to the abrupt halt at the end, it's loud, it's melodic, there's frenzied guitar lunacy juxtaposed against Frank's oddly measured story-telling choruses that lapse into intense, jarring psychotic verses and then ease straight back into measured story-telling, then there's the wild cacophony of guitar, like three people playing three separate songs, fighting for volume to be heard, and then just when you think your ears and brain can't take anymore, when you're on the edge and on the verge of turning it down or turning it off, one guitar pulls ahead and produces one of the most melodic-but-loud guitar solos in the history of rock. (Yeah, I'm a little overenthusiastic, here, but such is the brilliance of Planet of Sound.) It messes with you, man. This band, these Pixies, they're not like other bands, they're not like other musicians. They do things, man. Weird things. Inexplicable things. Loud things. Good things. Things your parents and the people at American Idol don't want you to know about. Things that will blow your mind. Things that will blow your speakers. And that's why they are my Amps at 11 Champs. 

Plus an extra Amps at 11 in-home experiment.
96 Tears, ? and the Mysterians I know, I know. This seems like an unlikely Amps at 11 song. It may seem like I'm trying too hard or even picking a fight. But. Hear me out (if you can hear me at all). Organs and pop/rock do not usually make good bedfellows. Some people use The Doors as an pro-Wurlitzer in rock argument. That's a thin argument to my ears. I think the organ distracts from Morrison's vocal timbre. And increased volume only further proves the organ does not belong there. Others will hold up a few tracks from Pet Sounds as arguments for the organ, and yes, I agree, Hold On to Your Ego is masterfully arranged and the organ works perfectly and helps make it my favorite Beach Boys song, even, especially, cranked to 11. But. One song does not make a winning argument. Enter ? who brilliantly works some sort of magic with the Wurlitzer on many of his tracks and successfully takes the Wurlitzer out of the super clubs and onto the turntable. Somehow, someway, it just works for ?. His vocal style works perfectly with an organ, neither competes against the other, there's an auditory symbiosis. The "problem" with this is that it's still an organ and it can sound kinda cheesy, even with ?'s gifted vocals and snarly lyrics. (You do know 96 Tears is a song about vindication and revenge, right?) Solution: Amps at 11. If you haven't listened to 96 Tears (or any other ? + Mysterians song) with amps at 11 (or even 10), try it sometime and I think you'll be surprised to hear how hard this song really rocks. Caution, though, because once you do this you will find it difficult to listen to 96 Tears at a low volume.

I was going over my resumés for the bazillionth time a few days ago, finessing, fine toothing, all that. In the process I naturally thought not just about the jobs I've held, but also the people with whom I've worked.

It occurred to me that I have worked with a lot of people. If you count all of my jobs since I started working at age 16 and include colleagues at outside vendors and external resources, my professional associate tally is in the thousands. If all of them were on Linked-in and I connected to all of them it would make for a pretty darned impressive Linked-in home page. I have the potential to be the Ashton Kucher of Linked-in. But because many of those associates and coworkers are from years ago and I don't remember their last names and they certainly wouldn't remember me it would be difficult to contact-request them. And some of them are dead. In fact as I thought about it and took a serious tally, I know that 18 of them are dead. (I should mention that my undergraduate summer job for three summers was at a large corporation that, at the time, had an aging employee base and many of them retired during the course of my three summers there. So, you know, that former coworker death toll is somewhat skewed by that job and the older managerial staff at the summer job.)

I had a good laugh thinking about the reaction many of those long-ago associates would have when they received my contact request via Linked-in. Some of them might be happy to hear from me. A few of them might be annoyed. Many of them might have to take a moment to think about who I am and how they know me. But all of them would be surprised.

It would be a modern career version of High Fidelity. Instead of looking up former flames and visiting them in person, I'd contact former coworkers and colleagues on Linked-in. My how times have changed. In 1995 (when the book High Fidelity was written) that sort of thing (stalking) had to be carried out in person or on the phone. Back then, email/Facebook/Twitter et al were just glints in a frisky Al Gore's eye. Now we're all modern and efficient and computery and stalking people you barely know or haven't seen or heard from in years is de regueur. (Thanks, Al Gore, for the internet and all that it's done to advance society.)

For a while, Linked-in and other professional career based sites were polite, professional online outposts. People kept their behavior in check more so than on Facebook. The no-holds-barred free-for-all behaviors of Facebook and Twitter were not as prevalent on Linked-in. And then the recession got worse. And the job market got even more worse. And a lot of people got really desperate. And even though Linked-in is still "better" than other networking sites, it's not unusual to get contact-requests from people you've never met and have no reason to meet.

Because I've picked up sporadic freelance/consulting work and odd jobs (very odd jobs) over the past two years I have received some equally sporadic and odd contact requests on Linked-in. So far, I've kept my Linked-in outreach in check. I have to know the person in real life, or at least know the person who suggests the contact, to accept the contact request. I don't post status updates or photos or comments other than referrals, nor do I mention anything that I wouldn't want a hiring manager or CEO to see.

Basic professional behavior, right? I thought so, too. Until a couple years ago when things started getting really bad in the work-world and really weird on Linked-in. I've seen and read some things on Linked-in that are beyond cringe-worthy. For some people, Facebook seems to have blurred the line between personal and professional life and the appropriate boundaries of both.

Or maybe I'm just an old, uptight, relic of bygone professional behavior days, a curmudgeon. Maybe these days it's perfectly appropriate and acceptable to post your feelings about people whose political/social/religious/sexual views differ from yours, or what you had to eat last night and which wine you paired with it, or, more staggeringly weird in my eyes, your negative opinions of your former manager or coworkers, for all the world - especially your professional associate world - to read.

I dunno. It's still unprofessional to me and I'm sticking with my apparently outdated professional code of conduct.

So I won't be contacting all those long-ago former colleagues, coworkers and associates. But it still makes for a funny "what if" scenario. And that's what had me in fits of giggles.

"Hi, Marcus! Remember me? We met when you were the photographer at that photoshoot with that band who was supposed to be the next Rolling Stones but then the lead guitarist got a day job and the band broke up when the CDs were being produced and so they were never released? Shame, that, because your photos were great. You really captured the whole intergalactic sensitive singing cowboy from the future concept. Anyhooo, I know it's been a while and it would be great to catch up! - Trill"

Okay, that's not so out-of-the-realm of professionalism. But. Let's say he does remember me or just chooses to accept my contact request for other reasons. Then what? Now I have someone I haven't seen, spoken with or worked with in 15 years as a professional contact. A little weird and potentially fraught with issues. Like, what if Marcus is on parole, recently released from jail for a little felonious scuffle involving meth, male prostitution and a gun? Sure, I up his professional credibility but what about mine?

I thought about what these erstwhile contacts would or could mean to me. What do I stand to gain by having them in my contacts?

Upon reading that, the die-hard believers in Linked-in are screaming "Viva networking! You stand to gain a job!"

Maybe.

But I notice a lot of people on Linked-in are unemployed or underemployed or clearly miserable at their current jobs and desperately clinging to hope that networking on Linked-in will lead to a ticket out of that miserable job. In all of those cases there's not really a lot of employment or even viable employment contacting to be gained.

Yes, yes, it's still important and I'm on there and I know people, mostly HR managers, have viewed my profile. Linked-in does add a level of legitimacy to who you are professionally. No one's hired me via Linked-in, but every interview I've had was precipitated by a view of my Linked-in profile from someone in HR at the interviewing company. So yes, it's important, maybe even crucial, to be on Linked-in.

Back to my former colleague musings.

As I thought about some of those former workplaces and colleagues I thought about things that happened at those jobs. One common thread emerged: Get-togethers. From after work cocktail gatherings to holiday parties to potlucks in the break room, there have been a lot of social situations that resulted from work. And these social situations were typically borne of some unwritten rule in the universal company handbook which states that personal life events shall be recognized and celebrated at work. Birthdays. Engagements. Weddings. Babies. New homes. Job promotions. Retirements. All of these events are celebrated, usually forcibly, in the office. They become professional obligations. Trust me, I know what happens when you abstain from even just one of these celebrations. Woe to those who dare to decline. You are immediately ostracized from the office community.

And everyone knows who the decliners are because there's always a list. An envelope where contributions are deposited and the names of contributors are added. Or worse, a pre-listed envelope with everyone's name on it and a check box next to the names. As contributions are made, boxes are checked. The day of the party it's clear who contributed and who did not because there's a list. A list of everyone in the office's name and a check box that's either checked...or not. Everyone knows. Even when there's a designated gift contribution fund manager, and the contributions are kept locked in a desk drawer, that envelope is retrieved and the list is pulled out as contributions are made. The office gossipers know this game well. They either volunteer to be the designated gift contribution fund manager, or, more usually, they wait until the last possible minute to make their contributions so when the list is pulled out they can see who is on the list of contributors or who doesn't have a check-mark next to their name.

Typically before the party even commences the gossipers have spread their eye-witness account of the contribution list. 

I once refused to attend an office potluck/engagement party for a guy who worked in a different department - someone I knew only because he once expedited the tax form process for one of my consultants - and I also declined to contribute to the "gift." The suggested donation for the engagement "gift" was $20. I kid you not. $20 per person plus a dish for the potluck for an engagement party. At work. There were at least 50 people on the eVite. That's a $1,000 engagement present (they wanted to get him a home store gift card), oh, and, the potluck had a theme, and the food for the potluck was to fall under the premise of the theme. A themed engagement potluck for a guy at work, a guy I barely knew and, all these years later, couldn't pick out of a line-up.

But. The afternoon after the themed engagement potluck luncheon went down, without me, I was office enemy #1. It took three months and a sleazy office romance between two other coworkers to knock me into the #2 most gossiped about at work position. I'm not saying it's why left that job, but when I was offered a position at another company I didn't hesitate to accept it. There was no "but gee, I'll miss the gang at work..." hesitation. And yes, there was a going away party for me but it was perfunctory and not very well attended. And there was no gift requiring a gift contribution fund, not even a $25 TGI Fridays giftcard regift. And no potluck. No theme. I got a card signed by the few people felt obligated to attend and copy of one of my projects hastily pressed into one of those cheap plastic frames from Walgreen's. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

But, prior to that engagement party I attended most (probably all, if memory serves correctly) office "parties" celebrating personal events. I brought in food for the potluck or paid my portion of the tab at the restaurant or bar. I contributed cash for gifts.

A lot of gifts. A lot of gifts to a lot of people I can barely recall.

Thousands of dollars to various gift contributions.



And then it hit me. Linked-in.

If I want to go out in a big way, really pound in the final nail of my career coffin, I now know exactly how to do it.

1) Make a list of everyone I've ever known in any professional capacity.
2) Cross off the ones who didn't get married, have a baby, get a promotion or retire during my professional association with them.
3) Contact all of the not-crossed-off people on the list via Linked-in.
4) Lull them into a false sense of professional security by remaining professional and non-invasive on Linked-in. No status updates, no reading suggestions, not even any "way to go" comments for professional achievements. Just very low-profile, professional behavior. 
5) Once all (or most) contacts have been accepted, post this message:
"I worked with all of you at some point in my career. During our association you got married, had babies, bought new homes, got promotions or retired. These happy occasions were marked in the office with celebrations. Cakes, lunches at fancy restaurants, drinks after work, potlucks and gifts were bestowed upon you. I contributed my fair share to those gifts. Often much more than my fair share to the unpopular people whose gift contribution fund needed padding, you know who you are, Annie, Peggy, Ed, Opal, Jeanne-Marie and Jean-Luc, Darius, Lizette...I could go on but I won't. You get my point. I ponied up a lot of cash for these celebrations. Because I didn't get married, have a baby, buy a home, get a promotion or retire while we worked together, or because you left the company before I did, you got out of contributing to a gift(s) for me.

I'm now seeking to rectify this injustice, balance the books. Pay up. I have a PayPal account where the gift contributions will be accepted. Once you complete your transaction a check mark will be placed next to your name on the contribution check-list.

Minimum contribution amounts will be pre-set, based on how many events I contributed to you. If I contributed to multiple gifts during our work association your minimum contribution will be proportionally higher. For instance, Melinda and James, I pitched in for multiple gifts for you, two weddings and three baby shower gifts for each of you, plus going away parties/presents. So you each owe me for two wedding gifts and three baby shower gifts as well as going away gifts. And Melinda, I made the cake for your second office baby shower, which we all know is going the extra pot-luck mile, and it also meant that I had to take a taxi to work that day in order to get your cake safely to the office, so, you can pitch in cab fare, too."

I know, I know. It's a brilliant plan. I'd be a modern-day folk hero. I'm sure I'd have a lot of supporters. People who've been in my situation. The situation of constantly opening their wallets for gift contributions for office celebrations while never being on the receiving end of those contributions.

But.

Curse those darned professional ethics of mine. Curse my desire to maintain integrity and valor. Curse my lack of balls.

I won't do it. I can't do it. And really, funny musing as it is, I don't even want to do it.

Office celebrations and ensuing gift contributions are just professional obligations. You wanna work in an office, you gotta pony up for the office party gift contributions. And don't look back. If you go down the reciprocation road you'll end up harboring a lot of envy and resentment. Useless and ultimately very unhealthy mindsets at work. Just contribute the money, attend the party, take the dish to pass or pitch in to the tab, and then forget about it.

But you know what would be great? If these people, these former gift-receiving colleagues, had a moment of realization and self-awareness and took it upon themselves to seek me out and acknowledge they came out ahead in the office gift gambit.

"Hi Trill! Long time no hear! I hope things are good with you. You know what? I was thinking about you the other day and I realized that when we worked together you contributed to wedding and baby shower gifts for me. And you organized the going away party when I quit. And I never got the chance to reciprocate. Here's $50 for the wedding and baby shower presents plus an extra $10 for organizing my 'I quit' party."

That's the movement I'd like to start. It's not about the money. Just some acknowledgement that they realize the balance is off, that they unwittingly came out ahead in the celebrations at work department. Just a few words of gratitude and recognition of this fact would be hugely appreciated by all the people who gave up a night at the movies in order to contribute to an office gift and never received a gift for their special personal occasion in return.