Hey.
So, I've been very lucky. I wanted to tell you all that. Not that I haven't worked hard and earned things, but I must say, as far as things that are "out of my hands," I've done pretty good.
Especially recently.
For instance, I was going to write a big ol' fat blog about today's court appearance. I contested a speeding ticket I received last September, and today was the scheduled court date.
I was going to write about my massive amount of research...I was going to attach a transcript of the court proceedings...I was going to link to the technical document and laws that I used to contest the ticket. I was going to expose my success or failure, for the world to see and learn from.
So, at court today, I arrived with two notebooks full of laws, cross examination questions, technical manuals, legal motions, appellate court case rulings, and medical documents. I was ready to battle my ass off, for the sake of "lulz," entertainment, and education (now that it's over I can say with confidence that I was totally going 56 MPH in a 40 MPH zone -- so this had nothing to do with "justice").
What happened?
The officer never showed up. Case dismissed. Bam.
I win.
I'd worked my ass off for dozens of hours on a case that never actually went to trial.
Cool.
Another example of luck. A couple of weeks ago, one of my coworkers came to me and asked if I'd filled out my NCAA Bracket. The building I work in does a yearly "March Madness" competition, with prizes for the top 5 finishers (there were 64 entries this year...ironically enough). I hadn't watched a lick of college basketball all season, but I decided to just take 5 minutes and throw a bracket down...using the "Tyler Method," which picks a couple of upsets at random, favors programs that I recognized as being "good" at one time, and ultimately selects the "favorite" to win it all.
What happened?
I finished in 2nd place, and got a $100 gift card. Here's my bracket: http://games.espn.go.com/tournament-challenge-bracket/en/entry?entryID=5495201 I picked Kentucky because they were the favorites, and Kansas because they were good when I paid attention to college basketball, and I didn't want to have all #1 seeds in the final 4.
Nice.
Another example -- I got sick in 2012. If I'd had these symptoms three years ago, I would have had no health insurance, and it would have been miserable. Every trip to the doctor's office would have been horribly expensive, and (now that I've racked up nearly a dozen office visits without a definite diagnosis) totally unproductive and wasteful.
I can just imagine myself...driving my wife crazy...thinking that I'm going to die because I couldn't afford preventative, diagnostic care. It would have been an awful, helpless feeling that I'm sure millions of people around the United States (I was going to say "world," but that wouldn't have been true, would it?) feel.
Luckily, I have a good job, which affords me the opportunity to receive good insurance. Consequently, I'm very lucky that this happened when it did, though it was completely out of my hands...
Which is another example. I lucked into this job...which is a tremendous job that I'd really like to keep for as long as possible. Don't get me wrong -- I was qualified for this job, and I worked my butt off to go from "temp" to "permanent employee," but landing this thing in the first place was pure, unadulterated luck. I could have wound up at an office with a terrible, overbearing boss...or surrounded by jag-offs. But I really like and respect my bosses, as well as the folks I work with. It was totally out of my hands...but I'm so grateful I wound up here.
Then, there's my boy. I've already covered the "health insurance" thing, which was another fortunate aspect of Henry's arrival...but there's more than that. There is so much that can go wrong while the child's in utero. There are so many little genes and alleles and hormones that can go haywire, and create medical problems that are out of a parent's hands. And after the child is born there are things like Croup or Colic or Whooping Cough or SIDS that are sometimes impossible to avoid.
But we dodged those bullets. I have friends that did not. I did nothing to deserve this healthy little boy that I have, but I am eternally grateful for it.
Lastly, there's my wife. I don't like getting too mushy about this stuff, because no one wants to read about how much someone loves their wife...but just to let you in on a little secret -- I do. I really really do love this woman so all-consumingly that it's really had to put into words sometimes. I wind up using really descriptive words, like "really" when I have to explain it...which makes me feel really incapable of writing good. She makes me tongue-tied, but with my fingers. Finger-tied.
But with Erika, I have to say, that I did not earn her affection; not consciously, at least. I've been infatuated with plenty of girls before Erika, convinced that they were "perfect for me," but none of them felt the same way about me...and the ones that did weren't really that "perfect for me" after all.
I got really lucky to find someone that just complements me so well, and even more lucky that she felt the same way about me. Plus, she's really pretty...which is hard to imagine for a dude that looks the way I do. It was the ultimate "luck-out."
Our first wedding dance was to the Ben Folds song "The Luckiest." Turns out, it's totally true.
I hope you understand -- I'm not saying these things to brag. I try not to brag in this humble little blog space, though if I do manage an accomplishment I'll give it an ol' mention here (I've been racking my brain, trying to figure out a humble way to boast of my NCAA bracket accomplishment, for instance...and this is how I decided to bring it up).
What I'm saying is, I've been incredibly lucky. It could have just as easily gone the other way for me, then I would have been able to claim that I've been incredibly unlucky. But I haven't been unlucky, and I'm very grateful for that.
Showing posts with label Win. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Win. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
For Your Health! (part 3)
What a difference a doctor makes, eh?
Hey gang. Well, good news and bad news. The good news is, the new doctor seems much more competent than the old guy. Good listener, patient, and he seems to be interested in putting me through a battery of tests (which is all I ever wanted).
The bad news is that this won't happen until Monday...which gives me another weekend of undiagnosed anxiety.
Which is okay, really. I haven't had an "episode" since last Wednesday, and I feel better than I have in quite some time. Still not great, unfortunately -- I've had some trouble sleeping, and I think I've convinced myself that if I sleep on my side my symptoms worsen (this is very likely psychosomatic).
But I feel like my health is in much better hands now. I'll keep you all posted.
Hey gang. Well, good news and bad news. The good news is, the new doctor seems much more competent than the old guy. Good listener, patient, and he seems to be interested in putting me through a battery of tests (which is all I ever wanted).
The bad news is that this won't happen until Monday...which gives me another weekend of undiagnosed anxiety.
Which is okay, really. I haven't had an "episode" since last Wednesday, and I feel better than I have in quite some time. Still not great, unfortunately -- I've had some trouble sleeping, and I think I've convinced myself that if I sleep on my side my symptoms worsen (this is very likely psychosomatic).
But I feel like my health is in much better hands now. I'll keep you all posted.
Friday, July 22, 2011
The Time I was Almost on a Game Show: Part 2
If you missed part one, click on the blue underlined word, right here: here.
If you want to read part two, then just keep reading.
If you don't want to read anything, then you should probably just turn the computer off and look at the floor.
Still here?
Ah. Good.
Where the hell was I?
Oh yeah. Damn. This is probably going to be a three-parter, isn't it?
Sorry.
Um...
GET ON WITH IT!
All right. Fine.
So, I spent the good part of the week listening to country music, whenever I could tolerate it. Truth be told, this was not very often -- if you know anything about me, you know I have a pretty terrible work ethic.
At my computer, I listened to the "No. 1 Country Radio" option of the online radio CMT website. I also listened to the Los Angeles country music station when I drove anywhere in my car. What I heard on this station confirmed all of my fears about country music: I frigging hate it. I hate listening to it. I hate the precious simplicity of the lyrics. I hate the up-tempo fun songs. I hate the trite, hackneyed, horrible "serious" songs. I hate the steel guitar. I hate the preposterous, cliched, populist message of most song. I hate how they constantly rip on "technology" and "city folk" while the singers are making millions off of the Walmart loving rubes. I hate how they're so obviously lying when they're singing the verse of a "story-driven" song. I hate, hate, hate everything about country music. It sucks so much. So badly.
And if you think country music is good, then I'm sorry. You're wrong. So very wrong. Or you're confusing "old country music" with "new country music." Old country music is a totally different genre of music...and I don't really consider that "country music." For instance, here's I song I heard over and over and over and over. And over. Try to listen to this entire song without punching yourself repeatedly in the face:
Did you make it? I know I didn't. But hey, if you did, here's three points I want to make:
1) No. That didn't happen to you, liar. It never happened. You heard (or thought up) the chorus, sent it to two songwriters, then they sent you back a song that earned you a Grammy nomination for "Best Country Song."
2) If you think that message is profound you're either an alcoholic, an idiot, or an asshole.
3) Stop singing through your nose...and hey, nice job to ripping off "Down by the Riverside."
Anyhow, here's some "old country." Try to find the similarities.
Well, even if you skipped those two songs, you get the idea. Old country = charming, heart-felt, and simple. New country = soulless, corporate, simplistic, and manipulative.
But I digress (that should really be the name of this blog, shouldn't it?). The point is, I re-discovered a deep loathing that I felt for the "country music" genre, and I confirmed that my deep loathing is wholly justified.
So, back to the story. I showed up at a random office building just off of Ventura boulevard, and climbed the stairs to the "Singing Bee" corporate office. There, I saw some of the staffers from the original screening, as well as 5 other "potential contestants." They were all reasonably attractive Caucasians who were, in all likelihood, aspiring actors and/or singers like myself (I mean, they're in Los Angeles for a reason, right?).
We filled out some more paperwork, took some Polaroids, and had a quick interview with one of the interns where we had to tell "something interesting" about ourselves.
I generally hate the "something interesting" question. Firstly, I don't like talking about myself (unless it's part of a conversation). Secondly, I don't have good stories...just a long string of mediocre stories, and a razor-sharp wit (that second part is a lie).
So for me, the interview is tricky...because actors cannot be game show contestants. It ruins the whole "these are just regular folks" vibe of a game show. Game shows pull from the population of Los Angeles...and these people are generally transplants from somewhere colder, who moved to Los Angeles to become actors. If you got an honest nameplate for every contestant on a game show, I betcha' 90% would say: "So-And-So Johnson, 25, Aspiring Actor, Los Angeles."
This meant that, during my interview, I couldn't talk about acting or performing. Since that's the only really interesting thing about me, I do what I always do when backed into a corner -- I tell "half-truths."
So during my intern-interview, I happened to mention that I enjoyed ballroom dancing. It was true...kind of. I mean I took a couple of ballroom classes in Seattle and Bellingham...and I watched more episodes of "So You Think You Can Dance" than any straight man ought to admit to. But...it was vaguely interesting...as I don't look like your typical "Ballroom Dancer." I like to play on the "that balding 30 something can't possibly dance and sing" stereotype.
But my fib was good enough. I'm sure I said some other things too...but I can't remember any of them...and the fact that I can't remember any of them probably means they weren't very interesting...so...
After the "interview," we were all paid. Yep. We were each paid $50 for doing a "test run" of the game show. I thought, "This is probably all of the money I will make from this, because there is no way in hell I'm would win this if I were a contestant." At that time $50 was a lot of money for me, and quite a pleasant little surprise.
I probably spent it on groceries.
Anyway, with a fat 50 large in my wallet, we waited around a bit as a gaggle of "network executives" and "creative types" were wrangled into a conference room, where we were to play a mock round of the game.
It was here we got to meet the host of the show. Her name is Melissa Peterman, and she's a seventeen-foot-tall blond woman who was, apparently, an actress/comedienne of some renown. I'd never heard of her before, but my wife had (because she pays attention to stuff, and junk).
The conference room we were to host the show in had been hastily transformed into a stage. The same Asian guy from the first audition was sitting in the back, manning a laptop loaded with songs, and in front of him were about 20 "suits" -- producers, network people, writers, directors, who the hell knows?
One guy in the front row looked particularly disinterested (meaning he was probably the highest-paid guy in the room). I don't know if he looked up from his Blackberry the entire time.
So, remember all of that talk about listening to Country Music? Well...I did. But apparently you can't learn the lyrics of an entire genre of music over two weeks. Crazy, right?
So predictably, when the show started, I started sucking right away. The first round was a kind of an "elimination," where each person got a whack at completing the lyrics to a song. The first four people to complete a lyric moved on to the next round.
"Just get through this first stupid round," I thought to myself, "Then you can make an ass of yourself in the second round, which is oh-so endearing."
Luckily, an "oldie" came up. The guy in front of me -- a good ol' country boy, had never heard of the Monkees. Ouch. Mickey Dolenz just rolled in his grave.
The girl after him failed as well -- she was more Kanye, less Davy.
Those two had whiffed, and it was my turn.
Would you have advanced?
Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring
But it rings and I rise wipe the sleep out of my eyes
__________________?
DING!!!!!
Thank God. No one-and-done for the Ty-man.
After that, we got to "meet the contestants." This is where the contestants (and producers) got to see if they were actually interesting.
Ms. Peterman sidled up to me and read from her little card.
"So, Tyler. It says here you like ballroom dancing?"
"Oh yeah. I can cut a mean rug."
"Who do you dance with."
"My dear wife, we've been dancing steadily for about a year now." God I'm a terrible liar.
"That's great! Yeah, I always wanted to do that stuff, the paso adobe? What is it?"
"Pasodoble." (thank you "So You Think You Can Dance")
"Yeah, that's the one. I'm coming back to you for the commercial break, you can spin me around the floor a bit, cutie."
Oh shit. Wait, did she just call me cutie? What the hell? "Bring it on."
Then she moved to the next contestant.
"And this young lady is..."
Well, hopefully I gave those bastards enough personality to bring me on the real show. Sure, I was lying out of my ass...but I bet I could fake a pretty convincing Pasodoble if I needed to...especially if she didn't know what she was doing either.
Luckily, she didn't make out with me during the commercial break, or force me to dance. We advanced to the next round...which did not go well for me...but it was not an elimination round, so I got to stand up front for a while longer.
The object was to fill in the blanks of the lyrics to a popular song.
My turn was a song by some guy named "Kenny Chesney."
Shit.
How would you have done?
Well, me an' my lady had our first big fight,
So I _____ around 'til I saw the neon light.
A corner bar, an it just ___ _____.
So I pulled up.
Not a _____ around but the old bar keep,
Down at the end an' looking half asleep.
An he walked up, an' said : "What'll it be?"
I said: "The _____ stuff."
He didn't reach around for the whiskey;
He didn't pour me a ____.
His blue eyes kinda went _____,
He said: "You can't find that here.
Cos it's the ____ long kiss on a _____ date.
Momma's all ______ when you get home late.
And droppin' the ring in the _______ plate,
Cos your _____ are shakin' so much.
An' it's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair.
Eatin' burnt _______ the whole _____ year
An' askin' for _____ to keep her from tearin' up.
Yeah, man, that's the good stuff."
You get five points for every correct answer.
I wound up with 5 points at the end of my round...because one of the missing lyrics was from the title of the song.
Another reason to hate Kenny Chesney.
The round after that was some kind of betting round, and the group was winnowed down to two people. I don't remember how the game went exactly...but I (of course) did terrible. I ended the round with those 5 stupid points, and sat my ass out for the final round.
Once the pretend show had concluded, we all went our separate ways. I got in my car, immediately switched the channel off of the Country Music station, and drove home.
One week later I received a call. Was I available tomorrow? Because they wanted me to be on the show.
Uh oh.
And I'll tell you all about that...in Part 3 (which at this rate, should be ready a year from now).
If you want to read part two, then just keep reading.
If you don't want to read anything, then you should probably just turn the computer off and look at the floor.
Still here?
Ah. Good.
Where the hell was I?
Oh yeah. Damn. This is probably going to be a three-parter, isn't it?
Sorry.
Um...
GET ON WITH IT!
All right. Fine.
So, I spent the good part of the week listening to country music, whenever I could tolerate it. Truth be told, this was not very often -- if you know anything about me, you know I have a pretty terrible work ethic.
At my computer, I listened to the "No. 1 Country Radio" option of the online radio CMT website. I also listened to the Los Angeles country music station when I drove anywhere in my car. What I heard on this station confirmed all of my fears about country music: I frigging hate it. I hate listening to it. I hate the precious simplicity of the lyrics. I hate the up-tempo fun songs. I hate the trite, hackneyed, horrible "serious" songs. I hate the steel guitar. I hate the preposterous, cliched, populist message of most song. I hate how they constantly rip on "technology" and "city folk" while the singers are making millions off of the Walmart loving rubes. I hate how they're so obviously lying when they're singing the verse of a "story-driven" song. I hate, hate, hate everything about country music. It sucks so much. So badly.
And if you think country music is good, then I'm sorry. You're wrong. So very wrong. Or you're confusing "old country music" with "new country music." Old country music is a totally different genre of music...and I don't really consider that "country music." For instance, here's I song I heard over and over and over and over. And over. Try to listen to this entire song without punching yourself repeatedly in the face:
Did you make it? I know I didn't. But hey, if you did, here's three points I want to make:
1) No. That didn't happen to you, liar. It never happened. You heard (or thought up) the chorus, sent it to two songwriters, then they sent you back a song that earned you a Grammy nomination for "Best Country Song."
2) If you think that message is profound you're either an alcoholic, an idiot, or an asshole.
3) Stop singing through your nose...and hey, nice job to ripping off "Down by the Riverside."
Anyhow, here's some "old country." Try to find the similarities.
Well, even if you skipped those two songs, you get the idea. Old country = charming, heart-felt, and simple. New country = soulless, corporate, simplistic, and manipulative.
But I digress (that should really be the name of this blog, shouldn't it?). The point is, I re-discovered a deep loathing that I felt for the "country music" genre, and I confirmed that my deep loathing is wholly justified.
So, back to the story. I showed up at a random office building just off of Ventura boulevard, and climbed the stairs to the "Singing Bee" corporate office. There, I saw some of the staffers from the original screening, as well as 5 other "potential contestants." They were all reasonably attractive Caucasians who were, in all likelihood, aspiring actors and/or singers like myself (I mean, they're in Los Angeles for a reason, right?).
We filled out some more paperwork, took some Polaroids, and had a quick interview with one of the interns where we had to tell "something interesting" about ourselves.
I generally hate the "something interesting" question. Firstly, I don't like talking about myself (unless it's part of a conversation). Secondly, I don't have good stories...just a long string of mediocre stories, and a razor-sharp wit (that second part is a lie).
So for me, the interview is tricky...because actors cannot be game show contestants. It ruins the whole "these are just regular folks" vibe of a game show. Game shows pull from the population of Los Angeles...and these people are generally transplants from somewhere colder, who moved to Los Angeles to become actors. If you got an honest nameplate for every contestant on a game show, I betcha' 90% would say: "So-And-So Johnson, 25, Aspiring Actor, Los Angeles."
This meant that, during my interview, I couldn't talk about acting or performing. Since that's the only really interesting thing about me, I do what I always do when backed into a corner -- I tell "half-truths."
So during my intern-interview, I happened to mention that I enjoyed ballroom dancing. It was true...kind of. I mean I took a couple of ballroom classes in Seattle and Bellingham...and I watched more episodes of "So You Think You Can Dance" than any straight man ought to admit to. But...it was vaguely interesting...as I don't look like your typical "Ballroom Dancer." I like to play on the "that balding 30 something can't possibly dance and sing" stereotype.
But my fib was good enough. I'm sure I said some other things too...but I can't remember any of them...and the fact that I can't remember any of them probably means they weren't very interesting...so...
After the "interview," we were all paid. Yep. We were each paid $50 for doing a "test run" of the game show. I thought, "This is probably all of the money I will make from this, because there is no way in hell I'm would win this if I were a contestant." At that time $50 was a lot of money for me, and quite a pleasant little surprise.
I probably spent it on groceries.
Anyway, with a fat 50 large in my wallet, we waited around a bit as a gaggle of "network executives" and "creative types" were wrangled into a conference room, where we were to play a mock round of the game.
It was here we got to meet the host of the show. Her name is Melissa Peterman, and she's a seventeen-foot-tall blond woman who was, apparently, an actress/comedienne of some renown. I'd never heard of her before, but my wife had (because she pays attention to stuff, and junk).
The conference room we were to host the show in had been hastily transformed into a stage. The same Asian guy from the first audition was sitting in the back, manning a laptop loaded with songs, and in front of him were about 20 "suits" -- producers, network people, writers, directors, who the hell knows?
One guy in the front row looked particularly disinterested (meaning he was probably the highest-paid guy in the room). I don't know if he looked up from his Blackberry the entire time.
So, remember all of that talk about listening to Country Music? Well...I did. But apparently you can't learn the lyrics of an entire genre of music over two weeks. Crazy, right?
So predictably, when the show started, I started sucking right away. The first round was a kind of an "elimination," where each person got a whack at completing the lyrics to a song. The first four people to complete a lyric moved on to the next round.
"Just get through this first stupid round," I thought to myself, "Then you can make an ass of yourself in the second round, which is oh-so endearing."
Luckily, an "oldie" came up. The guy in front of me -- a good ol' country boy, had never heard of the Monkees. Ouch. Mickey Dolenz just rolled in his grave.
The girl after him failed as well -- she was more Kanye, less Davy.
Those two had whiffed, and it was my turn.
Would you have advanced?
Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring
But it rings and I rise wipe the sleep out of my eyes
__________________?
DING!!!!!
Thank God. No one-and-done for the Ty-man.
After that, we got to "meet the contestants." This is where the contestants (and producers) got to see if they were actually interesting.
Ms. Peterman sidled up to me and read from her little card.
"So, Tyler. It says here you like ballroom dancing?"
"Oh yeah. I can cut a mean rug."
"Who do you dance with."
"My dear wife, we've been dancing steadily for about a year now." God I'm a terrible liar.
"That's great! Yeah, I always wanted to do that stuff, the paso adobe? What is it?"
"Pasodoble." (thank you "So You Think You Can Dance")
"Yeah, that's the one. I'm coming back to you for the commercial break, you can spin me around the floor a bit, cutie."
Oh shit. Wait, did she just call me cutie? What the hell? "Bring it on."
Then she moved to the next contestant.
"And this young lady is..."
Well, hopefully I gave those bastards enough personality to bring me on the real show. Sure, I was lying out of my ass...but I bet I could fake a pretty convincing Pasodoble if I needed to...especially if she didn't know what she was doing either.
Luckily, she didn't make out with me during the commercial break, or force me to dance. We advanced to the next round...which did not go well for me...but it was not an elimination round, so I got to stand up front for a while longer.
The object was to fill in the blanks of the lyrics to a popular song.
My turn was a song by some guy named "Kenny Chesney."
Shit.
How would you have done?
Well, me an' my lady had our first big fight,
So I _____ around 'til I saw the neon light.
A corner bar, an it just ___ _____.
So I pulled up.
Not a _____ around but the old bar keep,
Down at the end an' looking half asleep.
An he walked up, an' said : "What'll it be?"
I said: "The _____ stuff."
He didn't reach around for the whiskey;
He didn't pour me a ____.
His blue eyes kinda went _____,
He said: "You can't find that here.
Cos it's the ____ long kiss on a _____ date.
Momma's all ______ when you get home late.
And droppin' the ring in the _______ plate,
Cos your _____ are shakin' so much.
An' it's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair.
Eatin' burnt _______ the whole _____ year
An' askin' for _____ to keep her from tearin' up.
Yeah, man, that's the good stuff."
You get five points for every correct answer.
I wound up with 5 points at the end of my round...because one of the missing lyrics was from the title of the song.
Another reason to hate Kenny Chesney.
The round after that was some kind of betting round, and the group was winnowed down to two people. I don't remember how the game went exactly...but I (of course) did terrible. I ended the round with those 5 stupid points, and sat my ass out for the final round.
Once the pretend show had concluded, we all went our separate ways. I got in my car, immediately switched the channel off of the Country Music station, and drove home.
One week later I received a call. Was I available tomorrow? Because they wanted me to be on the show.
Uh oh.
And I'll tell you all about that...in Part 3 (which at this rate, should be ready a year from now).
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Coming to Los Angeles Part 2: Preparing to Prepare
Didn't scare you off, did I? Good. I didn't think I would. That's what I like about you -- your determination. Your drive. Hell, you've got spunk, kid...and I think you're really going to make it.
Because I hear you. You've made up your mind. You're going to roll the dice. Awesome. Follow your dreams. Carpe your diem. You won't know if you don't try. Fortune favors the brave. Veni vidi vici. Git 'er done. Only you can prevent forest fires. FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOM!!!!!!!!
So get your ass over here. How? It's easy. Start heading west. When you hit an ocean, turn left and follow the coast. Before you know it, BOOM! You're in Los Angeles (note -- Hawaii and southern Florida...I'm sorry, it's impossible to get to California from your state. Sorry!).
But before you take that drastic step, let's talk about what you need to do before you leave. Because, believe it or not, some things are much cheaper and easier where you live than they are in Los Angeles, and I really want you to get your crap together before you move.
The first and most important thing you'll probably need is money. Unless you want to start working as soon as you arrive in Los Angeles (and where's the fun in that?), you'll probably want a nice little chunk of "starter cash."
How much? Well, let's break it down.
The first, and biggest chunk of your budget will probably go to rent. Now, I think the best thing to do is move down in a group, for a two reasons.
1) It's cheaper.
B) You've got a built-in support group.
My wife and I moved down with another couple, found a lovely little apartment in Silver Lake, and spent about $600 per month in rent. That was with 4 people, living in a nice two-bedroom apartment (with one bathroom). Another friend of mine found an apartment in a not-as-nice-but-still-fairly-good neighborhood in Glendale with a single roommate, and he spent about $800 a month. Another couple friend of ours found a one bedroom apartment in a not-very-good neighborhood in southern Glendale, and paid about $600 a month in rent.
So, depending on the amenities you need (laundry room, swimming pool, kitchen, refrigerator, running water), plan on spending anywhere from $500 up to $1000 per person for your basic Los Angeles "I'm-an-actor-so-I-live-in-squalor" apartment. You'll also need to plunk down money for a security deposit -- the standard rate is somewhere between one month's rent, up to double that. It's even more if you want to bring your puppy or kitty along for the ride (which I highly recommend -- you'll need all the support you can get).
For utilities, tack on anywhere from $100 to $300 (depending on whether you want internet, TV, land line, etc), $125 for gas (you'll be driving a lot), $300 for food, $20 for website subscriptions (we'll go over those later), and any other silly expenses you brought with you from home (credit cards, auto insurance, cell phones). After all is said and done, plan on spending anywhere from $1,000 to $3,000 per month to live in Los Angeles...again, all depending on how cheap you want to do it.
Not to mention you'll probably need new head shots (those black and white ones that your roommate took last year will not cut it...I don't care how talented he/she is, or how much positive feedback you got. You're going to need new ones), some acting classes, some irritating "enrollment fees" (I'll go over all of those later), and other unexpected expenses (I guarantee your car will break down in the first couple of months -- it's inevitable).
Now, ideally, you'd want to "not have a job" for at least the first six months after you finish your move. We'll go over why I recommend that later, but let's just say, to be safe, you save up about $10,000 to $20,000 for your move down, to comfortably weather the six month "adjustment period."
What that? You don't have that much money? Then you suck. Seriously, you suck. You'll never make it in this town. Might as well not even move if you don't have that much money laying around. Acting is only for the insanely wealthy, and if you're not insanely wealthy, you will fail. I promise.
Kidding. There are other, relatively easy ways of making a little bit of money that don't involve a full-time job (catering, background work, prostitution) that can supplement that initial investment without seriously cramping your availability for actual legitimate acting stuff...so not to fear. If you want to seriously rough it, you can probably make your move work for about $2,000 or so, but I wouldn't go much lower than that because you'd be making it very hard on yourself (hee hee). Los Angeles has enough lovely homeless folks roaming about the freeway off-ramps...we don't need any more.
But enough talk about money. We didn't become actors "for the money," did we? This is about ART dammit! Craft! Passion! We want to move people, make them weep, change the world through our elaborate game of "professional make-believe." Tell us what else we need to prepare!
Couple of things. First, if you can, try to get your SAG Eligibility (that stands for "Screen Actor's Guild", and it's an actor's union...in case you didn't know). Don't know what SAG Eligibility is? Don't worry...we can take care of that when you move down. But whatever you do:
DO NOT JOIN SAG
Did I get your attention? Did you see the big pretty red letter? No? Then I'll reiterate: do not join SAG. I'll explain why later, but basically, you'll be massively hampering your ability to get gigs when you move here, and since you're inexperienced, you're unlikely to book the sweet "union" jobs anyway. By all means, become "Eligible" to join SAG, but do not pay that $2,000+ enrollment until you absolutely have to.
Another thing to do before you leave is: learn how to act. I know, seems like a no-brainer...but it's honestly not as important as people might think, which is why I moved it down the list. Personally, I spent my whole first year in Los Angeles trying to get my head around the concept of "not acting." This was after having spent the previous 2 years as an honest-to-God professional stage actor in Seattle.
"Pish," you say. "Acting is acting is acting." Good. I said the same thing. But do me a favor. Take a single "reaction" that you gave on stage (the bigger the house, the better)...maybe something you did that got a laugh every night...or moved audience members to tears. Now, take that same reaction and film it -- you don't even have to do it in a super close-up. Just a normal, medium shot. Then watch it back. You see? You didn't do it, did you? Well...you've been warned.
If any of your "acting reactions" are the least bit presentational, they will look incredibly forced on camera, and you'll be exposed as the novice you are. If you "project" with your voice, you'll blow out the audio and it'll sound terrible. Anything you do that would get a laugh from someone 50 feet away will look horribly fake when put on film.
But that's not to say "You're fine. You don't need to know how to act. Just wing it." Because you really ought to know something about acting before you go. If you can, find a local, reputable acting school and take a few classes (but be fully prepared to dismiss a good portion of the instruction you receive, since not all acting teachers are actually good at their job).
As for what classes to take...if you know the difference between Stanislavski and Strasburg, then I'd recommend taking some specialized "film acting" classes. If you don't know the difference between Meisner and Method Acting, then you should take some regular old "acting classes."
Of course, you don't have to go crazy -- like I say, learning to act is not totally essential before you go, because there are lots of classes here, and some of the classes in your home town might be terrible, as well as a waste of time and money. But it helps to have an understanding of the basics so you're not totally clueless when you get here.
I mean, you wouldn't be the first person to watch someone on TV and think "Eh, that's not so hard. I could do that." There 7 billion people on earth who think the same thing; and they're not wrong. Thinking "I could do that" is not a revelation, so please don't ever say it. "Doing that" is not the hard part; "booking that" is the hard part. Anyone could deliver a single line in a movie convincingly, given enough coaching and takes, but very few people could go out and actually book that bastard based on their acting merits alone.
But I don't want to go into that too much now -- I'll cover "what classes to take" and "what to do when you book something" later on. You can worry about that when you get here.
Other preparations? I don't know...you'll probably want a car (public transportation is doable, but it's still really crappy compared to every other big city in the US). Think about where you want to live (that'll be the subject of my next blog), and who you want to live with.
And finally, just think about it. You sure you want to do this? I mean, you're probably not going to be successful, and even if you are, it'll probably take years of you earning no money, and just sitting on your ass waiting for the phone to ring (and it won't).
So, I'll ask again, are absolutely you're sure you want to do this?
Yes?
Okay. Good. You passed the test. I said it before, and I meant it; I like you, kid. You've definitely got "it." Now, get down here, and parlay that "it" into massive fame and fortune, you lucky little bastard. Damn straight -- this is you, buddy:
Because I hear you. You've made up your mind. You're going to roll the dice. Awesome. Follow your dreams. Carpe your diem. You won't know if you don't try. Fortune favors the brave. Veni vidi vici. Git 'er done. Only you can prevent forest fires. FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOM!!!!!!!!
So get your ass over here. How? It's easy. Start heading west. When you hit an ocean, turn left and follow the coast. Before you know it, BOOM! You're in Los Angeles (note -- Hawaii and southern Florida...I'm sorry, it's impossible to get to California from your state. Sorry!).
But before you take that drastic step, let's talk about what you need to do before you leave. Because, believe it or not, some things are much cheaper and easier where you live than they are in Los Angeles, and I really want you to get your crap together before you move.
The first and most important thing you'll probably need is money. Unless you want to start working as soon as you arrive in Los Angeles (and where's the fun in that?), you'll probably want a nice little chunk of "starter cash."
How much? Well, let's break it down.
The first, and biggest chunk of your budget will probably go to rent. Now, I think the best thing to do is move down in a group, for a two reasons.
1) It's cheaper.
B) You've got a built-in support group.
My wife and I moved down with another couple, found a lovely little apartment in Silver Lake, and spent about $600 per month in rent. That was with 4 people, living in a nice two-bedroom apartment (with one bathroom). Another friend of mine found an apartment in a not-as-nice-but-still-fairly-good neighborhood in Glendale with a single roommate, and he spent about $800 a month. Another couple friend of ours found a one bedroom apartment in a not-very-good neighborhood in southern Glendale, and paid about $600 a month in rent.
So, depending on the amenities you need (laundry room, swimming pool, kitchen, refrigerator, running water), plan on spending anywhere from $500 up to $1000 per person for your basic Los Angeles "I'm-an-actor-so-I-live-in-squalor" apartment. You'll also need to plunk down money for a security deposit -- the standard rate is somewhere between one month's rent, up to double that. It's even more if you want to bring your puppy or kitty along for the ride (which I highly recommend -- you'll need all the support you can get).
For utilities, tack on anywhere from $100 to $300 (depending on whether you want internet, TV, land line, etc), $125 for gas (you'll be driving a lot), $300 for food, $20 for website subscriptions (we'll go over those later), and any other silly expenses you brought with you from home (credit cards, auto insurance, cell phones). After all is said and done, plan on spending anywhere from $1,000 to $3,000 per month to live in Los Angeles...again, all depending on how cheap you want to do it.
Not to mention you'll probably need new head shots (those black and white ones that your roommate took last year will not cut it...I don't care how talented he/she is, or how much positive feedback you got. You're going to need new ones), some acting classes, some irritating "enrollment fees" (I'll go over all of those later), and other unexpected expenses (I guarantee your car will break down in the first couple of months -- it's inevitable).
Now, ideally, you'd want to "not have a job" for at least the first six months after you finish your move. We'll go over why I recommend that later, but let's just say, to be safe, you save up about $10,000 to $20,000 for your move down, to comfortably weather the six month "adjustment period."
What that? You don't have that much money? Then you suck. Seriously, you suck. You'll never make it in this town. Might as well not even move if you don't have that much money laying around. Acting is only for the insanely wealthy, and if you're not insanely wealthy, you will fail. I promise.
Kidding. There are other, relatively easy ways of making a little bit of money that don't involve a full-time job (catering, background work, prostitution) that can supplement that initial investment without seriously cramping your availability for actual legitimate acting stuff...so not to fear. If you want to seriously rough it, you can probably make your move work for about $2,000 or so, but I wouldn't go much lower than that because you'd be making it very hard on yourself (hee hee). Los Angeles has enough lovely homeless folks roaming about the freeway off-ramps...we don't need any more.
But enough talk about money. We didn't become actors "for the money," did we? This is about ART dammit! Craft! Passion! We want to move people, make them weep, change the world through our elaborate game of "professional make-believe." Tell us what else we need to prepare!
Couple of things. First, if you can, try to get your SAG Eligibility (that stands for "Screen Actor's Guild", and it's an actor's union...in case you didn't know). Don't know what SAG Eligibility is? Don't worry...we can take care of that when you move down. But whatever you do:
DO NOT JOIN SAG
Did I get your attention? Did you see the big pretty red letter? No? Then I'll reiterate: do not join SAG. I'll explain why later, but basically, you'll be massively hampering your ability to get gigs when you move here, and since you're inexperienced, you're unlikely to book the sweet "union" jobs anyway. By all means, become "Eligible" to join SAG, but do not pay that $2,000+ enrollment until you absolutely have to.
Another thing to do before you leave is: learn how to act. I know, seems like a no-brainer...but it's honestly not as important as people might think, which is why I moved it down the list. Personally, I spent my whole first year in Los Angeles trying to get my head around the concept of "not acting." This was after having spent the previous 2 years as an honest-to-God professional stage actor in Seattle.
"Pish," you say. "Acting is acting is acting." Good. I said the same thing. But do me a favor. Take a single "reaction" that you gave on stage (the bigger the house, the better)...maybe something you did that got a laugh every night...or moved audience members to tears. Now, take that same reaction and film it -- you don't even have to do it in a super close-up. Just a normal, medium shot. Then watch it back. You see? You didn't do it, did you? Well...you've been warned.
If any of your "acting reactions" are the least bit presentational, they will look incredibly forced on camera, and you'll be exposed as the novice you are. If you "project" with your voice, you'll blow out the audio and it'll sound terrible. Anything you do that would get a laugh from someone 50 feet away will look horribly fake when put on film.
But that's not to say "You're fine. You don't need to know how to act. Just wing it." Because you really ought to know something about acting before you go. If you can, find a local, reputable acting school and take a few classes (but be fully prepared to dismiss a good portion of the instruction you receive, since not all acting teachers are actually good at their job).
As for what classes to take...if you know the difference between Stanislavski and Strasburg, then I'd recommend taking some specialized "film acting" classes. If you don't know the difference between Meisner and Method Acting, then you should take some regular old "acting classes."
Of course, you don't have to go crazy -- like I say, learning to act is not totally essential before you go, because there are lots of classes here, and some of the classes in your home town might be terrible, as well as a waste of time and money. But it helps to have an understanding of the basics so you're not totally clueless when you get here.
I mean, you wouldn't be the first person to watch someone on TV and think "Eh, that's not so hard. I could do that." There 7 billion people on earth who think the same thing; and they're not wrong. Thinking "I could do that" is not a revelation, so please don't ever say it. "Doing that" is not the hard part; "booking that" is the hard part. Anyone could deliver a single line in a movie convincingly, given enough coaching and takes, but very few people could go out and actually book that bastard based on their acting merits alone.
But I don't want to go into that too much now -- I'll cover "what classes to take" and "what to do when you book something" later on. You can worry about that when you get here.
Other preparations? I don't know...you'll probably want a car (public transportation is doable, but it's still really crappy compared to every other big city in the US). Think about where you want to live (that'll be the subject of my next blog), and who you want to live with.
And finally, just think about it. You sure you want to do this? I mean, you're probably not going to be successful, and even if you are, it'll probably take years of you earning no money, and just sitting on your ass waiting for the phone to ring (and it won't).
So, I'll ask again, are absolutely you're sure you want to do this?
Yes?
Okay. Good. You passed the test. I said it before, and I meant it; I like you, kid. You've definitely got "it." Now, get down here, and parlay that "it" into massive fame and fortune, you lucky little bastard. Damn straight -- this is you, buddy:
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Suck It, Travelocity: Part 2
(continued from PART 1)
Most of you who know me, know one thing -- I'm not good at talking. I'm a mumbling, self-conscious, confusing, painfully shy human being whenever I'm engaged in conversation. I share a cubicle wall with a woman who I've said, maybe, four words to since I started working here six months ago (those words were, most likely, "Oh," "Excuse me," and "Thanks"). I don't talk good, and those of you who disagree with that statement (my wife) are totally wrong.
However.
When I write, suddenly I'm Oscar "Frigging" Wilde (minus all of the "charm," "creativity" and "good writing ability"). I start using words so big that I have no idea how to spell them (thank Jehovah for those squiggly red lines underneath misspelled words). I start spinning complex analogies, referencing obscure historical figures, and demonstrating an easy knowledge of theories that have taken people years to comprehend.
I'll tell you a secret -- I'm not really smart. I just look all of this stuff up on Wikipedia as I'm typing, so it sounds like I'm speaking "off the cuff." In reality, each of these blog entries that takes, perhaps, 5 minutes to read takes me hours, sometimes days to write.
What's this got to do with Travelocity?
Well...I'll tell you.
The easy way to fix this would have been to actually "call" Travelocity. I want to say that I didn't do that because: "I didn't want to talk to another Indian dude, who couldn't possibly help me (or really understand my issue)." But, I think it was actually more because I'm afraid of hurting peoples' feelings. If I'm actually talking to someone, I feel like I want to apologize for being mean...on those rare occasions where I actually have to be mean.
So I did what any good coward would do when faced with this problem. I sent an e-mail. Most of it was grievances I already covered in Part 1...so I'll spare you the repetition and just skip to last paragraph:
[boring part edited out]
So, my question to you is this: why on earth would I ever use Travelocity again? Or recommend Travelocity to anyone I know? I mean, does this seem like a legitimate fee that I've been charged? At all? I seriously doubt that JetBlue "won't allow" Travelocity to use the lower fares to pay the "change" fee (as I was able to calculate the charges on JetBlue.com, and saw that the fare saving paid for the change fee). My guess is that the whole sum is just pocketed by Travelocity, which strikes me as horribly dishonest. No doubt these ridiculous, nonsensical fees are covered under the vagaries of the "General Policies" section of the confirmation e-mail, but in the interest of running a fair business, I would ask that you refund the $260.00 fee I was forced to pay to Travelocity for the change.
Not bad, eh? I used the word "vagaries," but I'm still not totally sure I used it right. Either way...here was the response I got back from Travelocity:
We understand your concern that you would like to make changes to your reservation to without any charges. [ed: a comma would have helped there, methinks...also got a little "to" happy] We know that fees and penalty restrictions are unpleasant, but we need to uphold them.
Please note that these policies are laid by the airlines and we as a travel agency need to follow them. The maximum amount of the reissue fee plus any difference in the fare is charged by the airline. Travelocity only charges $ 30.00 as an exchange fee.
Again I do apologize for the frustration this has caused and hope that you will understand our situation.
Sincerely,
Ryan T
Travelocity Customer Care
Gauging from the response...I don't think Ryan T actually read my e-mail. He saw that I had a "complaint about change fees," looked up Travelocity's JetBlue change policy interpretation, and sent a template response meant to pacify the "stupidly outraged" and "easily pacified."
Of course, nowhere did I request a "change to my reservation to without any charges." And, the policies that are being enforced by Travelocity are not "laid by the airlines" (hee hee...laid...). Ryan was using all the right words, but they had nothing to do with my e-mail.
My guess? Ryan looks a lot like this dude:
So, I wrote back:
On the contrary, the inability to use the difference between the fares on 4/7 and 5/11 ($103.00) to pay the change fee is not "laid by the airline." JetBlue policy explicitly allows customers to use a difference in fare to pay the fee for changing dates. I highly doubt that JetBlue holds your travel agency to a different standard than it does its customers, which leads me to the conclusion that this fee policy is Travelocity's, not JetBlue's.
In fact, I will quote JetBlue's policy on this: "For JetBlue Nonrefundable Fares, changes or cancellations may be made prior to scheduled departure for a fee of $100 per person plus any applicable difference in airfare. Any remaining balance will be placed in a JetBlue air-only credit and may be applied toward future travel for one year from date of issuance."
There is nothing in the JetBlue policy about a "negative difference" being forfeited. Quite the opposite; there is a specific stipulation addressing that eventuality, where the difference is paid out via "air-only credit." The Travelocity customer service representative I spoke with said that they are "not allowed" to use the difference to pay the change fee, but that is demonstrably false. Forfeiting the difference is not covered anywhere in the Travelocity "General Guidelines" which claim to be only applying airline policy to the fees it charges.
Which is to say that your response is insufficient. Travelocity is not following airline policy, unless there's a different set of rules for travel agencies than there are for customers (there aren't). But the more important question is: how is Travelocity acting in good faith? I am not calling the $30 per-person into question, as that is covered by policy. I'm calling the $206 I was erroneously charged by Travelocity into question, since they applied the JetBlue fight date change guidelines incorrectly. I would again ask to be refunded the erroneous fee that was charged.
Please note my use of the words "erroneous" and "demonstrably," which I probably used incorrectly. Oh well. As I say, I'm not a word-smith...I'm more of a "word-parrot;" I have no idea what the frick I'm saying. Also, I was originally calling the $30 fee into question...but that was more of a "start high" negotiating tactic than anything else.
But, either way, it was "pearls before swine" again (even if they were cheap, $0.99 imitation pearls), because here was the response I got:
We understand your disappointment with the advised reissue charges.
As advised to you in our previous email, please note that he reissue fees as advised to you are as per the airlines policies and we are unable to change the same. [ed: I've read that sentence, maybe, a dozen times...I still have no idea what he was trying to say] The tickets are issued by the airlines and the change fees are applicable as per the fare rules of your tickets. The airlines change fees of $100.00 and the fare difference is charged by the airlines and we only charge you $30.00 service fees.
We once again apologize for your disappointment and appreciate your understanding.
Sincerely,
Steven T
Travelocity Customer Care
Awesome. My guess: Steven is a total moron. But that's just a guess -- I wouldn't want to libel anyone (yes, I just looked up "libel" to make sure I could use it as a verb -- I can, damn you). I mean...was he really just apologizing for my disappointment? Really? What does that even mean? Shouldn't they be apologizing for "disappointing me?" That's like hitting someone with your car, and apologizing for their broken leg...not for hitting them with your damn car. It's also how dumb people sound when they're trying to sound smart.
My guess? Steven looks something like this:
Needless to say, Steven "Da' Moron" T. really got my goat. So, I wrote one final missive...and if I got another stupid non-response, I was going to actually pick up a phone and call someone. Yep...they'd angered me out of my anti-social terror.
With my newest letter, I thought I'd try a different tack -- because dumb people seem to understand analogies best, I lead off with that:
Let me see if I can use an analogy in order to help you understand what I'm saying...because I don't believe that you have demonstrated any understanding of the basis of my complaint. So, here is my analogy:
I hire a plumber to install my kitchen sink. He does so, and charges me $400. Once the sink is installed, I decide that I don't like the color of the faucet, and ask the plumber to exchange the "bronze" for the "chrome." He does so, but informs me he will charge me $30 for re-installation, plus whatever the hardware store charges for exchanges. He shows up the next day and installs the new chrome faucet, telling me that the hardware store charged him $100 for the exchange...which I must now pay to him. This confuses me, so the next day I go to that same hardware store and ask an employee how much they charge for exchanges. The employee at the hardware store tells me that they would not charge in my case, since I exchanged the expensive bronze faucet for the much less expensive chrome faucet. This means that the plumber...
A) Told the truth, and the hardware store only charges plumbers for exchanges.
B) Committed fraud, and pocketed the $100.00 that he charged me.
Does that make sense? I went to the hardware store (JetBlue) and asked them about their exchange policy (date change policy). I was told that they wouldn't charge me. Is Travelocity committing fraud? Or does JetBlue hold travel agencies to a different standard?
Because, regarding JetBlue policy, I want to be absolutely clear here: if the fare for the new date of departure is more than $100 cheaper than the fare for the date of the original departure, there is no charge from JetBlue to change a flight date. I've now been told by two different Travelocity employees that this $100 charge is "per airlines policy," but that is simply not true. And having one, two, three, or thirty Travelocity employees tell me the same thing will not make it any more true.
So forgive me while I repeat myself, but I feel I must do so until you acknowledge this fact: if the fare on the new date is more than $100 cheaper than the cost of the fare on the original booking date, JetBlue does not charge its customers to change the date of a flight.
Here is why this is a big deal. Customers go to travel agent sites to receive better pricing, and deals on travel packages. But, in this instance, instead of getting a better deal, I've been punished (to the tune of $266) for using Travelocity. If I had just booked this deal through JetBlue.com, I would have that $260, plus an additional $6 credit that I could use for future travel (if only plane tickets in the future could somehow cost $5.99...dare to dream). Essentially, my choice to book the flight through Travelocity cost me $266.
And please, this has nothing to do with "disappointment," so stop using that word. It's more "confusion," "disbelief," and quite a bit of "frustration." I don't want platitudes. I don't want apologies. And I don't want to have another response from Travelocity wherein you just repeat the falsehood that the "$100 charge came from the airline." It didn't, and it doesn't. I want that $200 charge refunded. And if you continue to refuse my request, I want you to show me exactly where in the JetBlue "date change" policy you are seeing the claim that a customer must forfeit the difference in ticket prices in the event of a date change. Or else admit that this $100 charge is not JetBlue policy, but, rather, a fraudulent attempt by Travelocity to exact a fee, shrugging off responsibility by repeating the falsehood that the charge came from the airline.
I didn't hear back from Travelocity for a couple of days. I figured they were just giving me the ol' brush-off. Like, "Well, we already dealt with this guy. He's obviously crazy. If we ignore him, he'll just go away eventually."
So I wrote to JetBlue, trying to find out if, maybe, I was wrong about my understanding of their change policy. I got a pleasant response the next day.
Thank you for contacting JetBlue Airways regarding your JetBlue Reservation. We appreciate the opportunity to respond.
Yes, there is a $100 change fee per person if you choose to change to a different date. If the fare is lower, example $100 then you would break even.
Regards,
Carolyn
Customer Commitment Crew
JetBlue Airways Crewmember 92321
Nice. I betcha' Carolyn looks something like this:
So I was on the brink of actually "calling" when, to my total surprise, I heard back from Travelocity. This was someone with a couple of brain cells to rub together. Someone who can actually read. A guy who got to is allowed to put the word "Supervisor" in parenthesis by his signature. Maybe it was my analogy. Maybe it was my persistence. Maybe I just got lucky. Either way, here's what I heard back from the lovely little gnome-humpers:
Please note that as your ticket fare Jet Blue does not authorize us to refund the balance credit of $103.00 per passenger. We contacted Jet Blue and refuse to provide any authorization to issue a voucher. Jet Blue do not provide such option to travel agencies.
However, we appreciate your business and hope you will come back to Travelocity. To assist in your future travel plans, we are offering you a Future Trip Discount off the purchase of a TotalTrip package or GoodBuy Hotel stay on Travelocity, within 1 year of date of issue of the Code subject to the Terms and Conditions shown below.
[details edited out, you silly bastards -- this is my code, not yours]
Sincerely,
Spencer T (Supervisor) Travelocity Customer Service
So good wins out over evil, I suppose. Or...at least...good gets about 40% of his wasted money refunded. I guess that's a victory. Still, even though Spencer grudgingly gave up the travel discount voucher, he had to get in a silly "Please note" dig. Seems he was under the impression that the $103.00 was in the form of a "travel voucher," as opposed to a "fee discount."
But...either way...I guess I got some of my money back, compliments of a dude who probably looks like this:
And now it seems that they've forced me to come back, and redeem my silly little "voucher" through their agency. Well...damn it all. Rest assured, I'll never be using any of these frigging websites ever again. And take this as a lesson, all. Stay away. Far away. Don't let the gnome tempt you -- it's all a lie.
Most of you who know me, know one thing -- I'm not good at talking. I'm a mumbling, self-conscious, confusing, painfully shy human being whenever I'm engaged in conversation. I share a cubicle wall with a woman who I've said, maybe, four words to since I started working here six months ago (those words were, most likely, "Oh," "Excuse me," and "Thanks"). I don't talk good, and those of you who disagree with that statement (my wife) are totally wrong.
However.
When I write, suddenly I'm Oscar "Frigging" Wilde (minus all of the "charm," "creativity" and "good writing ability"). I start using words so big that I have no idea how to spell them (thank Jehovah for those squiggly red lines underneath misspelled words). I start spinning complex analogies, referencing obscure historical figures, and demonstrating an easy knowledge of theories that have taken people years to comprehend.
I'll tell you a secret -- I'm not really smart. I just look all of this stuff up on Wikipedia as I'm typing, so it sounds like I'm speaking "off the cuff." In reality, each of these blog entries that takes, perhaps, 5 minutes to read takes me hours, sometimes days to write.
What's this got to do with Travelocity?
Well...I'll tell you.
The easy way to fix this would have been to actually "call" Travelocity. I want to say that I didn't do that because: "I didn't want to talk to another Indian dude, who couldn't possibly help me (or really understand my issue)." But, I think it was actually more because I'm afraid of hurting peoples' feelings. If I'm actually talking to someone, I feel like I want to apologize for being mean...on those rare occasions where I actually have to be mean.
So I did what any good coward would do when faced with this problem. I sent an e-mail. Most of it was grievances I already covered in Part 1...so I'll spare you the repetition and just skip to last paragraph:
[boring part edited out]
So, my question to you is this: why on earth would I ever use Travelocity again? Or recommend Travelocity to anyone I know? I mean, does this seem like a legitimate fee that I've been charged? At all? I seriously doubt that JetBlue "won't allow" Travelocity to use the lower fares to pay the "change" fee (as I was able to calculate the charges on JetBlue.com, and saw that the fare saving paid for the change fee). My guess is that the whole sum is just pocketed by Travelocity, which strikes me as horribly dishonest. No doubt these ridiculous, nonsensical fees are covered under the vagaries of the "General Policies" section of the confirmation e-mail, but in the interest of running a fair business, I would ask that you refund the $260.00 fee I was forced to pay to Travelocity for the change.
Not bad, eh? I used the word "vagaries," but I'm still not totally sure I used it right. Either way...here was the response I got back from Travelocity:
We understand your concern that you would like to make changes to your reservation to without any charges. [ed: a comma would have helped there, methinks...also got a little "to" happy] We know that fees and penalty restrictions are unpleasant, but we need to uphold them.
Please note that these policies are laid by the airlines and we as a travel agency need to follow them. The maximum amount of the reissue fee plus any difference in the fare is charged by the airline. Travelocity only charges $ 30.00 as an exchange fee.
Again I do apologize for the frustration this has caused and hope that you will understand our situation.
Sincerely,
Ryan T
Travelocity Customer Care
Gauging from the response...I don't think Ryan T actually read my e-mail. He saw that I had a "complaint about change fees," looked up Travelocity's JetBlue change policy interpretation, and sent a template response meant to pacify the "stupidly outraged" and "easily pacified."
Of course, nowhere did I request a "change to my reservation to without any charges." And, the policies that are being enforced by Travelocity are not "laid by the airlines" (hee hee...laid...). Ryan was using all the right words, but they had nothing to do with my e-mail.
My guess? Ryan looks a lot like this dude:
So, I wrote back:
On the contrary, the inability to use the difference between the fares on 4/7 and 5/11 ($103.00) to pay the change fee is not "laid by the airline." JetBlue policy explicitly allows customers to use a difference in fare to pay the fee for changing dates. I highly doubt that JetBlue holds your travel agency to a different standard than it does its customers, which leads me to the conclusion that this fee policy is Travelocity's, not JetBlue's.
In fact, I will quote JetBlue's policy on this: "For JetBlue Nonrefundable Fares, changes or cancellations may be made prior to scheduled departure for a fee of $100 per person plus any applicable difference in airfare. Any remaining balance will be placed in a JetBlue air-only credit and may be applied toward future travel for one year from date of issuance."
There is nothing in the JetBlue policy about a "negative difference" being forfeited. Quite the opposite; there is a specific stipulation addressing that eventuality, where the difference is paid out via "air-only credit." The Travelocity customer service representative I spoke with said that they are "not allowed" to use the difference to pay the change fee, but that is demonstrably false. Forfeiting the difference is not covered anywhere in the Travelocity "General Guidelines" which claim to be only applying airline policy to the fees it charges.
Which is to say that your response is insufficient. Travelocity is not following airline policy, unless there's a different set of rules for travel agencies than there are for customers (there aren't). But the more important question is: how is Travelocity acting in good faith? I am not calling the $30 per-person into question, as that is covered by policy. I'm calling the $206 I was erroneously charged by Travelocity into question, since they applied the JetBlue fight date change guidelines incorrectly. I would again ask to be refunded the erroneous fee that was charged.
Please note my use of the words "erroneous" and "demonstrably," which I probably used incorrectly. Oh well. As I say, I'm not a word-smith...I'm more of a "word-parrot;" I have no idea what the frick I'm saying. Also, I was originally calling the $30 fee into question...but that was more of a "start high" negotiating tactic than anything else.
But, either way, it was "pearls before swine" again (even if they were cheap, $0.99 imitation pearls), because here was the response I got:
We understand your disappointment with the advised reissue charges.
As advised to you in our previous email, please note that he reissue fees as advised to you are as per the airlines policies and we are unable to change the same. [ed: I've read that sentence, maybe, a dozen times...I still have no idea what he was trying to say] The tickets are issued by the airlines and the change fees are applicable as per the fare rules of your tickets. The airlines change fees of $100.00 and the fare difference is charged by the airlines and we only charge you $30.00 service fees.
We once again apologize for your disappointment and appreciate your understanding.
Sincerely,
Steven T
Travelocity Customer Care
Awesome. My guess: Steven is a total moron. But that's just a guess -- I wouldn't want to libel anyone (yes, I just looked up "libel" to make sure I could use it as a verb -- I can, damn you). I mean...was he really just apologizing for my disappointment? Really? What does that even mean? Shouldn't they be apologizing for "disappointing me?" That's like hitting someone with your car, and apologizing for their broken leg...not for hitting them with your damn car. It's also how dumb people sound when they're trying to sound smart.
My guess? Steven looks something like this:
Needless to say, Steven "Da' Moron" T. really got my goat. So, I wrote one final missive...and if I got another stupid non-response, I was going to actually pick up a phone and call someone. Yep...they'd angered me out of my anti-social terror.
With my newest letter, I thought I'd try a different tack -- because dumb people seem to understand analogies best, I lead off with that:
Let me see if I can use an analogy in order to help you understand what I'm saying...because I don't believe that you have demonstrated any understanding of the basis of my complaint. So, here is my analogy:
I hire a plumber to install my kitchen sink. He does so, and charges me $400. Once the sink is installed, I decide that I don't like the color of the faucet, and ask the plumber to exchange the "bronze" for the "chrome." He does so, but informs me he will charge me $30 for re-installation, plus whatever the hardware store charges for exchanges. He shows up the next day and installs the new chrome faucet, telling me that the hardware store charged him $100 for the exchange...which I must now pay to him. This confuses me, so the next day I go to that same hardware store and ask an employee how much they charge for exchanges. The employee at the hardware store tells me that they would not charge in my case, since I exchanged the expensive bronze faucet for the much less expensive chrome faucet. This means that the plumber...
A) Told the truth, and the hardware store only charges plumbers for exchanges.
B) Committed fraud, and pocketed the $100.00 that he charged me.
Does that make sense? I went to the hardware store (JetBlue) and asked them about their exchange policy (date change policy). I was told that they wouldn't charge me. Is Travelocity committing fraud? Or does JetBlue hold travel agencies to a different standard?
Because, regarding JetBlue policy, I want to be absolutely clear here: if the fare for the new date of departure is more than $100 cheaper than the fare for the date of the original departure, there is no charge from JetBlue to change a flight date. I've now been told by two different Travelocity employees that this $100 charge is "per airlines policy," but that is simply not true. And having one, two, three, or thirty Travelocity employees tell me the same thing will not make it any more true.
So forgive me while I repeat myself, but I feel I must do so until you acknowledge this fact: if the fare on the new date is more than $100 cheaper than the cost of the fare on the original booking date, JetBlue does not charge its customers to change the date of a flight.
Here is why this is a big deal. Customers go to travel agent sites to receive better pricing, and deals on travel packages. But, in this instance, instead of getting a better deal, I've been punished (to the tune of $266) for using Travelocity. If I had just booked this deal through JetBlue.com, I would have that $260, plus an additional $6 credit that I could use for future travel (if only plane tickets in the future could somehow cost $5.99...dare to dream). Essentially, my choice to book the flight through Travelocity cost me $266.
And please, this has nothing to do with "disappointment," so stop using that word. It's more "confusion," "disbelief," and quite a bit of "frustration." I don't want platitudes. I don't want apologies. And I don't want to have another response from Travelocity wherein you just repeat the falsehood that the "$100 charge came from the airline." It didn't, and it doesn't. I want that $200 charge refunded. And if you continue to refuse my request, I want you to show me exactly where in the JetBlue "date change" policy you are seeing the claim that a customer must forfeit the difference in ticket prices in the event of a date change. Or else admit that this $100 charge is not JetBlue policy, but, rather, a fraudulent attempt by Travelocity to exact a fee, shrugging off responsibility by repeating the falsehood that the charge came from the airline.
I didn't hear back from Travelocity for a couple of days. I figured they were just giving me the ol' brush-off. Like, "Well, we already dealt with this guy. He's obviously crazy. If we ignore him, he'll just go away eventually."
So I wrote to JetBlue, trying to find out if, maybe, I was wrong about my understanding of their change policy. I got a pleasant response the next day.
Thank you for contacting JetBlue Airways regarding your JetBlue Reservation. We appreciate the opportunity to respond.
Yes, there is a $100 change fee per person if you choose to change to a different date. If the fare is lower, example $100 then you would break even.
Regards,
Carolyn
Customer Commitment Crew
JetBlue Airways Crewmember 92321
Nice. I betcha' Carolyn looks something like this:
So I was on the brink of actually "calling" when, to my total surprise, I heard back from Travelocity. This was someone with a couple of brain cells to rub together. Someone who can actually read. A guy who got to is allowed to put the word "Supervisor" in parenthesis by his signature. Maybe it was my analogy. Maybe it was my persistence. Maybe I just got lucky. Either way, here's what I heard back from the lovely little gnome-humpers:
Please note that as your ticket fare Jet Blue does not authorize us to refund the balance credit of $103.00 per passenger. We contacted Jet Blue and refuse to provide any authorization to issue a voucher. Jet Blue do not provide such option to travel agencies.
However, we appreciate your business and hope you will come back to Travelocity. To assist in your future travel plans, we are offering you a Future Trip Discount off the purchase of a TotalTrip package or GoodBuy Hotel stay on Travelocity, within 1 year of date of issue of the Code subject to the Terms and Conditions shown below.
[details edited out, you silly bastards -- this is my code, not yours]
Sincerely,
Spencer T (Supervisor) Travelocity Customer Service
So good wins out over evil, I suppose. Or...at least...good gets about 40% of his wasted money refunded. I guess that's a victory. Still, even though Spencer grudgingly gave up the travel discount voucher, he had to get in a silly "Please note" dig. Seems he was under the impression that the $103.00 was in the form of a "travel voucher," as opposed to a "fee discount."
But...either way...I guess I got some of my money back, compliments of a dude who probably looks like this:
And now it seems that they've forced me to come back, and redeem my silly little "voucher" through their agency. Well...damn it all. Rest assured, I'll never be using any of these frigging websites ever again. And take this as a lesson, all. Stay away. Far away. Don't let the gnome tempt you -- it's all a lie.
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