A Gentler Time

I've been digging through some old files at work, and darned if I didn't discover today that phishing predates the internet by a long, long time - who knew?

From the monthly newsletter of a certain Texas Chamber of Commerce, Vol 3. No. 4, April 1968

National BB Bureau Warns of “Bank Examiner” Swindle

The National Better Business Bureau warned today that the so-called “bank examiner” swindle – a bizarre con game widely used a few years ago to bilk elderly widows of their savings – has cropped up again in some areas of the country.

NBBB said the most recent case involved an elderly La Salle, Illinois, woman who was defrauded of $1,800 by a fast-talking con man who represented himself as an officer of the local bank.

Typically, the victim was led to believe she was helping the bank lay a trap for a dishonest bank employee.

According to the National Better Business Bureau, with which the local Chamber is affiliated through membership, the swindle was widespread two years ago and may be on the rise again.

NBBB, which first exposed the racket in 1964, said the swindlers, generally two or three men working as a team and posing as bank examiners, security officers or FBI agents, choose their victims carefully.

They often spend time in lines in front of bank tellers’ windows in an attempt to observe account numbers, withdrawals or deposits of potential victims.

In the case of the Illinois woman, the swindler, posing as a bank officer, used a name that was familiar to the victim and cited the number on her passbook.

Convinced that she was being asked to help the bank in its efforts to check on the honesty of a teller, the woman, following instructions, withdrew $1,800 from her account, took the money home, and later turned it over to a man who flashed a gold badge. The woman was told the money would be redeposited in her account and a new passbook issued. When the victim finally began to worry and called the bank for reassurance, it was too late.

According to NBBB, the best advice is this: If you are contacted by a self-proclaimed bank examiner, FBI agent or bank security officer, advise him that you will call back. Disregard the number he provides and contact the local police or FBI office and explain why you are calling.

I also examined the 1954 blueprints (which are blue, I'll be darned!) for a Tourist Information Bureau on a well-traveled highway. The floor plan includes a spacious lobby with window seats and wide double entrances for visitors, a service counter, workspace behind the counter, office space, and a private restroom for the employees. There is no restroom for the public. Apparently that sort of thing wasn't necessary in the 1950's.

You gave travelers a free state highway map. They wrote you a four-page thank-you letter. Even their complaints were polite and constructive, like the one guy who gently suggested striping the center of the highway in some bright, highly visible color in order to avoid head-on collisions at night. He concluded his letter with the hope he had not made himself tiresome. I could kiss him.

Of course, he was probably a traveling con artist.

Inbox Intervention

Geez, take one Friday off from work and come back to find out in terrible, grisly detail exactly what the interwebz think of you. Why, I'm out of shape, undereducated, and lousy in bed - though I could still make untold millions working from home, so that's something. I'll need the money, since my accounts with numerous banks have been frozen; I might also want to rustle up some quick cash through online gambling. But first and foremost, I really need a new watch, because mine is just an embarrassment. No wonder I have no luck with the ladies! I've received several order confirmations, so hopefully a replacement is on the way.

It's possible I have some work-related emails in my inbox too, but I haven't found them yet, because they're hopelessly buried under all the subject-line notifications our spam-filtering software thoughtfully sends along so that I'll know how many spam messages I'm not receiving.

And for some reason I seem to be subscribed to the "Maritime News."

Nothing Personal

Guys, when I'm out walking on the hike-and-bike, I don't mind being hit on, really I don't.

But must you do it while wearing those shorts?!?!?

I enjoy browsing through the subject lines in my spam filter; I always feel it offers a lot of insight into the collective conscious. What's on our minds? What do we dream of? What do we dread? A couple of years ago we were all about day-trading tips, but lately the focus seems to be on cheap imitation luxury items. Naturally there are very sound socioeconomic reasons for this.

But while topics come and go, the inadequacy of the male sexual organ never goes out of style. Without question, those are always my favorite subject lines. "Works so good, you will put your eye out" got several of my cube neighbors to gather around, inquiring what the sprayed coffee and hooting were all about. The one I saw this morning was not as adorable, but raised (sorry!) an interesting question.

"Your new bigger package will be a deal-clincher!" it said. Now, questionable attire on the hike-and-bike trail aside, I've always kind of assumed that by the time a girl finds out what the size of your package is, the deal is already clinched - isn't it?? Or are there women who will, after liking a guy so much that they'll go home with him, get friendly, and be all ready to get busy, suddenly glance down and say, "Oh. Never mind"?

Maybe there are, I don't know, but that seems awfully rude.

Anyway, all I really wanted to say about that is that it's interesting to me to see that same topic come up again and again (sorry!!) in my spam filter. Honestly, guys, really. Penis size is the least (sorry!!!) of your worries!

No. It's the way you dress that's keeping you down.

Peace, Happiness, and Little Fluffy Bunnies

Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold.

Just how cold do they mean? Cold, like leftovers? If your angry avenger waits too long for the dish to cool down, won't you just give up, make yourself a sandwich* and go to bed?

Or do they mean to freeze it? Like Baked Alaska, maybe. Or maybe a nice cold Spamcicle! Obviously, a lot of the end effect depends pretty heavily on the ingredients here. In any case it requires a fair amount of effort.

I've always taken the old adage to mean that you shouldn't avenge yourself on someone until the passion has cooled. But that's just stupid. If you've really calmed down and you're not angry anymore, why get revenge at all? Why not just let it go? You don't care. Let bygones be bygones, and that generally means not knifing someone in the guts over something they did to you twenty years ago, because frankly? That's kind of psycho.

Perhaps it just means you should only take vengeance in winter. If that's the case, and you live in Texas, you can pretty much forget about it. You'd have to organize your life so that unforgivable offenses to you only take place in, say, late November. If you have that much control, you could probably just get everybody to treat you decently in the first place.

Personally, I think we should all just get along.

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*Poof! You're a sandwich!

Distinctions

At work, they have email filters that catch not only spam, but also messages that might be considered offensive. It's a bit of an odd system. Every time the filter stops something, it sends you an email notifying you of the sender and the subject line of the quarantined message, with instructions for how to have the message released to you. The practical upshot of this is that, instead of your inbox getting choked up with spam emails, it gets choked up with notifications that the filter is quarantining spam emails.

But what's really odd is that there are two separate filters - two that I've seen, anyway. The notifications are slightly different: "Offensive email message quarantined" vs. "Spam email message quarantined." Like any filtering program, it makes the occasional mistake: quarantining a message from my friend Robbie's city government email as spam, and once quarantining a message from my friend Tony, at another city government office, as offensive, just because he mentioned being pissed off. (But you can even say that on network TV!)

When you work for an agency like mine, you feel a little skittish about following the instructions to have an email released. You aren't supposed to be sending or receiving personal emails, period, no matter how pissed off you are.

But today I got two notifications which left me a little puzzled. "Penetrate harder and give the pleasure to all women!" got quarantined as offensive, while "Make the boner harder and really feel the difference!" was pegged as spam.

Really! Why, I wonder? The basic meaning seems about the same for both. Perhaps the State of Texas frowns upon the implication that you might get busy in a non-monogamous fashion? Maybe "penetrate" is tagged as an inherently dirty word, but nobody thought to flag the word "boner"? Or perhaps there's something else in the body of the email itself that would explain the distinction, but I won't know unless I follow the instructions to release these emails from quarantine into my mailbox.

Yeah, right. My curiosity is piqued, but there's no way I'm going there. I have enough of a reputation at work already. I don't need IT knowing me as the chick who asks to release the penis messages.

The Inbox of Doom

They just don't make spam like they used to.

I mean, for the time being. But have you noticed that lately all the subject lines are telling you you've won something? Like a gift card for a department store, or an airline ticket, or a free laptop, or a $500 shopping spree at Nordstrom's, which based on what I've seen of that particular store would get you maybe one skirt, and not a very attractive one either.

A few months ago the subject lines all appeared to have been culled at random, and sometimes they were pretty intriguing. Five or six of them lined up in your inbox might form sort of a poem. But if you opened one, they were just something stupid and prosaic, like stock prices.

Months before that, all the subject lines related to the inadequacy of your penis. I thought that was a little harsh.

But speaking of inadequate penises,* what got me thinking of all this is that I got an eVite invitation yesterday from the 11-day wonder, the guy who accepted a job in my department, made a couple of attempts to sell us all Amway, and quit. He got my email address because he asked for my phone number, and I appear to be congenitally incapable of saying "no." I even felt guilty the first time I deleted an email from him, unanswered.

It's unflattering to have been singled out as a likely target, like trying on a pair of jeans in front of the mirror and suddenly catching yourself from a particularly unfavorable angle. Sure, I didn't even open the eVite - I think he could have seen, if I had - but the implications still sting. I hope there's a special circle in hell for the people who make their way in this world by taking advantage of the better impulses of others: not stupidity or gullibility, but gentleness, and kindness, and the reluctance to hurt anybody's feelings or create ill-will. Because when you use those impulses against someone, s/he knows it; it makes that person feel stupid for being that way; it's a step towards making the world a colder and unfriendlier place.

So it's a good thing I've just won a $1000 gift card to Victoria's Secret. Exciting underwear make everything better!

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*Just a guess