Kids

Someone had a business proposition for me and wanted to meet next week. I told him I was leading our annual spring kayak trip and it would have to wait until after that. He asked me to describe it, which I did.

He snorted. “Sounds like a bunch of adults acting like college kids.”

Let’s see, we go south (usually Florida) after a dreary season, accelerating the approach of summer activity. We play in the warmth of the sun during the day and party at night. We do it as a large group because the trip is extremely popular and always sells out. It’s all about fun and leaving troubles behind.

He’s right. We are acting like a bunch of kids. And that’s not a bad thing.

...and the Lord taketh away

My elation over the previous piece of mail was short-lived. The next envelope was from those likeable people who gouge you on every paycheck and then ask for the remainder of what you have on April 15th.

I did open a letter from them three months ago. It said that I hadn’t reported some income on my 2010 return and they wanted an explanation or, preferably, a pile of cash. Checking their logic, I found them to be about 1% correct. There was a small item omitted. The rest they cited was a gross figure on security sales. You’re supposed to pay gains tax on the net, which was reported, not the gross. Since they write the rules and design the reporting forms, you might expect they’d know the difference.

I responded per their instructions, pointing out their error and acknowledging the small omission on my part. Since it was swallowed by my loss carryover and I didn’t owe any more, I asked what they wanted to do about it and said I’d appreciate a response before the 2011 return was due. I didn’t want to have to go back and do four revised returns (including state).

I didn’t hear anything until two weeks ago. That still gave me time to incorporate changes before filing a current return. Or, would’ve. It was simply an acknowledgement that they had received my response and would deliberate upon it. They would communicate their decision within 45 days. Wonderful. I would’ve thought three months would’ve been sufficient to noodle out a small detail.

Today’s mail brought the aforementioned good news (previous blog) and an envelope from my favorite government agency. Great! They were able to make a decision before the filing date.

That would’ve been too much to hope for. This was a notice that they never received a response from me to their communication (you mean, you acknowledged receiving it without doing so?). Therefore, they were enclosing a bill for $96,000. WTF?

Put it on my VISA card.

Open your mail

Since I made a decent living using direct mail, it may seem paradoxical that I am averse to some of the tactics. That would include the pseudo-check that shows through the envelope window and its cousin, the brown craft envelope that arrives shortly after the income tax deadline. Or, the “Important information about your mortgage loan #........” that appears to be an official communication from your bank but is a promotion from another lender. Why would I deal with an entity whose overture for the relationship is deceit? Why would anyone?

So, I went through a period where I simply chucked anything with a whiff of impropriety without opening it. The first indication of the flaw in this involved rebate checks. I suspected they intentionally made them look like junk mail so they wouldn’t get cashed. Then, electronic banking created a sea change. I run some events for a club and began to get complaints that I had not registered some applicants. I responded that I hadn’t received payment, only to then find out that the sender had their banks issue their checks, which had arrived looking like some kind of promotion.

So now I open everything. It’s a pain wading through all the crap, but occasionally pays off. Today was such a day.

The envelope truly looked like junk mail. The return address was some “distribution fund” which reeks of a come-on if I ever heard one. However, following my policy, I opened it.

Surprise, surprise. It was a real check. It seems some mutual fund I used to hold got nailed for some infraction and was compelled to pay out a penalty to investors. Surprise, again. The system works. Sometimes.

It seemed to be karma because the amount was almost exactly what I had just paid for a new kayak. However, karma cuts both ways and I can be a wary character. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

So where’s the potential hook? Maybe it’s a bogus check with the intent being to learn my bank account number. I did a web search on the distribution fund and the sanctions against the mutual fund and it all came up golden.

My policy remains in force.

Your most formidable opponent

Relishing a victory today. Enjoy them when you can get them.

I guess most think of this in the context of sports, business or war, when you’re overcoming the opposition that is working to thwart you. This was not the case today. Not every significant victory entails an outside opponent.

I had bought a new kayak and was anxious to put it through its paces. I planned to do that on the river this weekend, but the water rose and flattened it out. The fallback position was a whitewater playpark where you surf and play a few stationary waves. I wasn’t going to learn a lot about the boat under those limited circumstances, but it was better than nothing.

We arrived under cold, drizzly conditions. The water was frigid and high. The waves were very powerful at this level and not configured to facilitate surf and play. More like they were perfect for punishing any paddler who had the effrontery to take them on.

I took in the scene and knew it boded getting flipped into the glacial and turbulent water, necessitating rolling up. The tapes began to play in my head. You haven’t rolled in a while. This is an unfamiliar boat. The cold water will make you rush.

Before addressing that, I should explain that rolling a kayak is largely psychological. The physical part is easy. Being upside down in an oxygen-free environment with your face rushing toward rocks compels you to make mental errors.

You begin your learning process with the pool roll, although that may take place in a lake or other nonthreatening environment. You start in a set-up position, flip over and then roll back up. This is largely to erase the tape in your head that tells you that you can’t roll. Since you seldom capsize in the set-up position in real world conditions, it has limited value.

So, you progress to the same exercise without setting up before you flip. This still lacks the element of surprise, as well as the adverse conditions. But, repetition creates confidence. And, the more time that lapses since you last roll, the less confidence you have and your chances of success diminish accordingly.

From there, you have to master the combat roll (actual paddling conditions and without warning). Physically, it’s the same thing you’ve been doing. Mentally, it’s a whole different ballgame. Your doubts and fears rise up, sometimes causing you to rush or rely more on muscle than technique; recipes for failure.

All the factors were running through my head: time elapsed since last roll, adverse conditions, strange boat, etc., leading me to the conclusion that I’d be swimming in the gelid current. Fortunately, I recognized the process, pushed the reset button to eliminate all the negative thoughts and enjoyed a good day of combats rolls.

The most formidable opponent you can have is yourself because you know your hot buttons better than anyone else. So, a victory over yourself is worth savoring.

Designing Dimmin'

Okay, so the title is a stretch. Be that as it may, this is a tale of my faltering ventures into t-shirt design.

For the most part, they are limited to the annual spring trip our paddling club goes on. It’s always a great adventure and has become a big deal. Part of the tradition is that I come up with a souvenir shirt, which is much in demand.

Aside from the facts that I have no training and can barely open a design program, it’s no problem. In the beginning, I took orders and forwarded my cobbled together design to the t-shirt screener. He’d make some sense out of it, do the graphics and I’d distribute it to the participants. When those numbered relatively few, it wasn’t much of a problem.

However, as our legions grew, so did the issues. First, distribution was a problem. Most wanted the shirts ahead of time. That wasn’t a problem when there was a relatively limited number of people I saw with some frequency. But, it got to be a challenge as the scope expanded.

Secondly, the larger the group, the more issues people you are likely to have. This one wanted a different color. That one wanted a fitted style. And the other one preferred a sweatshirt. This is in addition to all the other trip issues. It’s a wonder I have any hair.

It had been previously suggested to me several times that I use one of those services that creates, sells and ships shirts for you. I resisted, because my method resulted in a cheaper price to the participants. But, their demands made this method less feasible.

So, I switched to a popular producer who would handle the whole ball of wax. I had barely set up the account when they began to inundate me with spam. No amount of opting out dissuaded them. Miffed, I opened an account with their primary competitor and set out to design the shirt.

Their program seemed fairly intuitive and I thought I was home free until I selected a colored shirt. There, I received a warning that the illustration I incorporated had a background and it would show up as a white rectangle. Great, how do I deal with that? They told me to use my design program or, preferably a more advanced one, to eliminate the background.

I messed around with that to no avail. I used the help feature of the program and searched the web for advice. No help. Either I couldn’t find the menus they referred to or they simply told you what to do without designating how.

I went back to the shirt producer and asked them to just remove the background. They said there was no way they could do that. No way? They must have to do some image manipulation to get from what they’re given to creating a screen. And, it is their profession. No way? They assured me, no way. At that stage of the game, my options were very limited, so I just went ahead with it, advising my group of the issues if they selected a dark color garment.

This year, I started well enough ahead of time. Through extensive trial & error, I figured out how to drop out the background of the art. Then, I went back to the first vendor who had ticked me off with the spam. That seemed like a lesser offense than refusing to help with the background.

I signed on and inserted the illustration (fully de-backgrounded) and copy. An option panel came up. Did I want any backgrounds deleted from artwork? Just like that. One click and they’d take care of it. Aaaaaugh!

The test

I set a goal for this year and achieved it last week. That was to sell off my oddball kayaks, as well as those that were essentially duplicates in function. The former was much more of a challenge.

I have an affinity for some oddball boats that represent innovation, extreme performance or other intended positive attribute. I go into the purchases knowing they will be difficult to sell and pay for them accordingly. I anticipate that I’ll have to sell low when the time comes, so I buy low up front. Even so, a sale is an exercise in target marketing.

However, my most recent transaction, which liquidated my last eccentric specimen, added a new wrinkle. If anything, I deemed it one of the more “normal” of the orphans I adopt. But, three times it was “sold” and three times, the buyer failed to come up with the promised cash and simply disappeared. This kayak appeared to attract an especially quirky niche.

The fourth time is the charm, and, last week, I finally wrapped by fingers around the long green. Phew!

With the boat account flush with cash from selling off the duplicates and oddballs, I set out to fill in the gaps in the fleet. The goal now is to accomplish that without taking a step backwards by inadvertently acquiring the Edsel of kayaks. The eventual secondary market is the acid test.

I made the first purchase and took it on its native voyage yesterday with a group of paddling friends. It immediately drew compliments, but that’s not unusual as it is a common courtesy. But, two of the admiring remarks were followed by, “Let me know when you want to sell it.”

That’s the test.

Poster of the day

Rumors are started by haters, spread by fools and believed by idiots.