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[theblognoonewillread-blog1]

Extended Stay America Cheats and Lies

Another week has gone by with no progress (visibly) on ESA. I have the awful feeling that I’m going to be eating a loss from these people. Even sadder, the people who were supposed to fix the matter, have largely failed. Carla Yong from NC said on 6/15 that it would take as much as 30 days to resolve, even as the link she sent said the case had been closed.

Back story: I booked a room at one of their properties for a holiday weekend for one night - just one night. The property phoned me the day I was to arrive and said that due to some undisclosed matter, I would be switched to another property. When I got to the other property - at 9 o’clock in the evening - I was told they had no rooms. The really bad part? My debit card was charged for BOTH properties - to the tune of $166 and change. And I had to spend another $165 to stay somewhere else rather than sleeping in my car, because on this busy night, all the cheaper properties were filled up.

I reported it to their corporate headquarters and was told I’d get free night certificates and the refund. Only one of the nights was refunded. The other was not. The free night certificates? Never got them. If I lived in North Carolina this would be a good case for small claims court. But since I don’t live there, the cost of flying out there to litigate, and the time involved, wouldn’t be worth it. 

I can only hope that each and every person involved in this failure suffers. I hope Extended Stay America’s IT people suffer. I hope Gabriel Lopez, the district manager in Austin, suffers. I hope the hotel operators in Austin suffer. And I hope their corporate offices in Charlotte suffer. I would love to hear that ESA was being bought and liquidated. At least my $86 would prevent someone else from being robbed by incompetence.

It would be nice to let go and, I suppose, I probably will at some point. Right now, though, I feel cheated – and it’s a bad feeling. Yes, America has a backdrop of uneducated, bigoted people who don’t care if they’re screwed over as long as brown people are suffering. But does that mean that we have to take a loss – or a chance – when we book with someone?

It’s sad that some people – who rightfully complain – are written off as whiners, troublemakers, even dangerous. Too many people send their resentments to the wrong people – they should be angry at the cheaters, not those who complain about them. But cynicism leads people to say that if we got screwed, just shut up and don’t complain. And then those same people wonder why they lose their jobs, their homes, their communities.

We get what we tolerate. If we tolerate being cheated, we’ll get cheated. In America, it is as certain as that.

[theblognoonewillread-blog1]

2017 - A Toxic Year

The year 2017 draws to a close as, arguably, one of the very worst years to hit mankind since World War II. On a national level and on a personal level for me, the year was laden with all kinds of difficulties, ill will, and major setbacks.

On the national level, the man currently occupying the White House should never have been seated. There were many institutions that could have intervened – the Supreme Court, the armed forces, federal judges – that didn’t. Especially dismaying is that – in theory – Democrats apparently were fine with throwing their hands up and saying “wait until 2018.”

But the current administration has done so much damage in just one year that waiting until 2018 was an absurd notion. In smaller, more ragtag countries – the Ukraine, Romania – they didn’t wait for corruption to take hold, the people got at the dictators and deposed them directly. Yet so many people have been given the impression that the “system” will work things out – a euphemism for “you’re screwed until the next election.”

The list of destruction is unparalleled. Undoing nearly everything the previous administration accomplished. Making a mockery of communicating with the press. Embarrassing and even antagonizing our allies. Refusing to come clean on legitimate accusations. Abdicating his responsibilities by spending more time on vacation than any other sitting president. Lying outright to his followers. Standing accused of fraud in one or more of his personal businesses. The list goes on and on.

The GOP through their cheating and gerrymandering have created voting patterns that make it hard for them to lose their seats – preventing the true reflection of voters’ preferences. That majority, it’s been said, will never bring this administration to account or punishment. It’s a huge shame – as justice waits, millions lose their security, civil rights, even their lives.

The current occupant of the White House was a major watershed for others like him – pushy, abrasive, selfish, unethical, bigoted. They made their approval of him and others like him very vocal. What would have been considered disqualifying traits decades ago, now, with today’s media, is just considered another shade of distinction. And the attitude spread quickly in the early days of this year – many reports of high school students taunting Hispanics with baited words were common in the early days of the year. Racial and sexual minorities feared, rightfully, for their well-being and safety.

Even sadder, one sixth of the US population voted for this man for a variety of reasons. Apologists tried to spin it was “not everyone who voted for him is a racist.” Perhaps. But how do you seat a president who runs a fraudulent – if not failing – business empire, known for ripping off his employees?  My own personal opinion? Anyone that voted for this man – whether blindly, for party reasons, or because they liked something in his platform – knew what they were getting.

The only direct repudiation this year that came in the face of powerful men like this was the “Me Too” campaign on social media in which thousands of women rang in on men and sexual harassment. Time Magazine even named the campaign “Person of the Year,” a first for that right-of-center publication. But even as the campaign gained traction in news cycle after news cycle, the pushback from “ordinary men” (let’s call them) was building. In Silicon Valley, many male workers have taken to avoiding contact with their female coworkers – perhaps to protect themselves, perhaps out of clear resentment. This is an issue that is far from being resolved – as with so many other ills in the US, it will take a cultural change and that often takes generations to stick.

In the natural disaster department, nothing stole the show more than hurricanes – Harvey, Irma, and Maria, which left many citizens homeless or in limbo. Puerto Rico is still not recovered – many parts of that island still have no power – a damning accusation of the incompetence of this administration. Harvey dropped over 4 feet of water on southeast Texas – a region home to over 6 million people. The scandal that’s brewing is that the city permitted building in reservoir regions that hadn’t seen heavy rains in years – until August 25. The saddest stories were those who had moved themselves and their families into one house, only to have the home flooded out. This, too, will be a developing story particularly as June 1 approaches to signal the start of another hurricane season. (Harvey would impact my life as well; more in the personal section.)

When I look back at my own personal life in 2017, I think of a bunch of issues. My time in Houston had become repetitive, methodical, stale even. I spent many weekend nights driving from place to place, alone, hoping to “click” or connect with someone intelligent, fun, engaging, inclusive – in most cases that never happened. As with my suspicion about the gay community back in 1998, I had an underlying feeling I couldn’t really count on anyone. Getting sick, I was on my own. With two notable exceptions, only two people ever walked a resume of mine in for a job – and that never materialized. An intimate partner turned out to be a meth user and clearly unstable emotionally so I had to dump him.

The worst part was the job search. Starting (in earnest) in April and running clear through the end of the year, no interview resulted in an offer. The situation was thoroughly awful in Houston, with rotten recruiters among the decent ones and it being hard to know who I could trust. Even attempts at remote gigs failed – an auto parts place, a legal services company, and another place out of Wisconsin all refused to offer me full time work – with one place even doing a change-up on what their web site appeared to represent.

When there wasn’t interviewing going on, there was poor management – recruiters using automated software to generate letters asking about my interest level in seemingly anyplace. Endless phone call messages from foreigners with middle-eastern accents. Misspellings all over their notes. Replies that went unanswered. So much digital noise. By year’s end I was depleted. I had burned through 6 full months of UI benefits and a sizable portion of the last of my CDB IRA funds. I am still strongly considering jumping ship from the IT field. The CDB and Dell positions both were bolts out of the blue. So was Advanced Pharmacy. I would do better to just get something.

The plan, upon my de facto move to Dallas – an evacuation that turned into a temporary (?) home base – was to get a job offer and use that offer letter to get into cheaper housing. I am really, really deeply concerned about having to go the Craigslist/black market route – I know it’s a choice between unethical management or unresponsive management.

The move to Dallas, of course, made me feel even more removed from the people I call contacts in Houston. It’s not hard to see when people have tuned you out for whatever reason. It is others’ choice, but it’s still annoying. I am mulling over some kind of stop out with Facebook, at least – I have had better experience with Instagram.

So, for all the positive things that have happened for me here and there in 2017, it is safe to say that it has been a sour year. I feel less trust in the universe, in “God”, in whatever powers there are out there that are supposed to be beneficial to us. I railed out not long ago at the universe for not bringing the kind of people I want and need into my midst. It literally is like I’m being denied connections – or I just don’t have the psychological blueprint to attract the right connections to me. It is incredibly frustrating.

If 2018 is not forthcoming with something at least tenable on a basic level – where I have some kind of job and a real apartment – if the character of this new year isn’t substantially different from 2017, it may be the year that does me in – death – for good.

[theblognoonewillread-blog1]

Invisible Tears

I am long overdue for a good cry.

Sadly, were I to sob my eyes out, no one would see them. Not because I’d be conciliatory, but because the average American doesn’t want to see the tears of the stranger.

Sure, if it’s someone they know – or if it’s someone cute, sexy, telegenic, such individuals can command attention easily and quickly – just say something “downer.”

One’s “real” friends, of course, will always be there, really there, for their mate. I don’t have such folks in midst. I’ve become conditioned to not saying anything, even to someone like my female friend who herself has had a rotten year.

Who do we turn in the flesh to when we need to unburden ourselves?

I tried phoning a talk line once. The operator’s tone of voice sounded like she didn’t care, like she had nothing hopeful to say. She was just phoning it in. Such people don’t help anyone.

[theblognoonewillread-blog1]

Preface

It’s been a hard year for a lot of people. The current administration has been full of fraud, ill will, open bigotry, and more. That has weighed down on my mind, as it has with many others. But in my case, I already had a fairly full dance card in terms of personal issues that can exarcebate the clinical depression I was diagnosed with decades ago.

I do not fit the profile of the average American today, at least according to social media. I’m in my 50’s, I am a man of color, I’m gay, and I’m single. I am also currently unemployed and do not have a permanent dwelling thanks to Hurricane Harvey, which has complicated the matter – no job, no proof of income, how does one get a place without having to turn to horror-style properties on Craigslist?

I am also not “hot”, not “uneducated” (a four-year degree seems to be of little use to all but the most business-driven in America now), not carrying rippling abs or sporting a huge member, the lack of reputation meaning getting it on with anyone is practically impossible.

For some time I have had a hard time finding my “tribe” - that group of people, that community, with which one should be practically inseparable because they’re so alike, so together, so similar in energy. I’m a Midwesterner who relocated to the Gulf Coast over 30 years ago – for work, of course. For maybe 6 or 7 years I had a sort of built-in community but it was never a completely square fit. Then I found a gay-friendly community in town but ran into a variety of issues there also. Gay America has many of the same problems straight America has – just a matter of degrees.

So, the complicated nature of my things not working out left me, this holiday, with no invites to dinner, no home to go to, and – even more annoying – no permanent place to call home. For over four months now, an extended-stay hotel has been my “apartment.” The morning light comes in too early, and I often hear the roar of a highway nearby. It is a utilitarian place, not a personal one.

As an alternative to sleeping in the entire day – a depressing prospect unto itself – I decided to drive to a casino one state over and enjoy their sumptuous buffet. The annoying thing was, thousands of other people had the exact same idea. It made the casino aisles crowded with people aimlessly drifiting about, walll-eyed and (in some cases) predictably tipsy. It occurred to me that casinos have become a sort of adult day-care center. A younger adult child can drop his aging mother or father at the door, then drive off while the parent drifts around, entertaining himself/herself with the prospect of getting rich, or at least the occasion thrill of hitting a win on the slots.

So here I was, sitting among them, practically speaking with nothing in common with them except our need to distract ourselves. My distraction had a purpose – to get through the day, to survive it. When contacts on social media said they hoped I was having a great day I left it open, silence. I didn’t want to risk disapproval by telling them the truth. Miss Manners might say that not “dumping” on friends is good social policy for holidays, but I have to wonder if she’s ever had bouts of depression or loneliness.

Coincidence and, perhaps, universal cruelty – as I was typing this I heard Gloria Lynne singing a song I’d not heard. I used SoundHound to identify it - “All Alone.” Thanks, universe.

There is a fine line in America between letting others know what downers are going on in your life and being labeled a “drama queen.” I feel perpetually like I have to do a Herculean editing act on what I say to (as I thought earlier today) present my situation in a palatable fashion so as not to send others running. The problem is that in doing that, I don’t get the benefit of just dumping it all out there, of letting raw emotion drive how I communicate. I resent having to edit what I say. And it’s worse on social media like Facebook – when I admit I’m not having a good time I get crickets. One guy who asked about my job situation today, when I looked at our message feed, I realized we hadn’t spoken in two months. I sent a quick holiday greeting and got one back. I can only imagine he’s tired of bad news so maybe I’ll do what I’ve done with so many others in recent years – add him to my Restricted List: we have a connection in form only, but little else. On such a list, no one sees my warts – they see the edited “media feed” to entertain.

It has been said that depression is the fastest growing disease in America today. I can absolutely see why – no one feels like they’re being heard. No one feels anyone gets them in the workplace, in dating, in their communities, in their families, anything. And the authority and moral leaders we used to have, they’re all on the take in various ways so no one is there to do anything for us when we hurt.

This situation, of course, is worse for folks like me – older, black and middle-aged are three whammies today’s society can’t relate to. It’s never happened that anyone has ever asked me point-blank, “Why don’t you go to a coffee house with people your own age?” That’s because no one has opened such a place. Not many businesses market to the middle-aged, it’s assumed we’re washed up, don’t spend any money and are set in our ways. And we’re not sexy – so no one presumably wants to look at us. I think a coffee place where anyone over 35 was made not just to feel tolerated, but appreciated. Right now, the closest we have to that is either Starbucks or the bars – nothing in between.

I’d love a middle-aged friendly place. I wouldn’t want it to be exclusively that age group, I like diversity, just be interesting is all I ask. Boring people come in all ages, classes, education levels.

I am a bit of a complicated person. Those complications are part of why I think I have largely been a social misfit. I don’t act like anyone else (less superficial). I don’t carry myself the same way as others. The whole migration to typing messages rather than actually talking is part of my depression – a female friend of mine I’ve known for years, we don’t even really talk on the phone! I don’t like this! Years ago a guy I worked with, he and I used to talk on the phone and get together once a week to watch TV at his apartment. We did that for YEARS. He was the first guy I came out to.

Since then I have had “relationship” (I guess you could call it) fall apart for a variety of reasons. One guy is a bad listener. Another has no time (too “busy”) - that is almost always the kiss-off. It gets worse when it comes to business or getting a job hookup – I know NOBODY. Guys I worked with at previous jobs? No support. Not the way it happens for others. It has occurred to me that for the 30-plus years I spent in my last city, only TWICE did anyone else ever offer to walk a resume in. The results both cases were nil, but at least I had that. The irony of that is that I work in the information technology industry – I’m supposed to be connected to other smart people. Sadly, the industry has become commoditized so everyone’s disposable. Even my colleagues at a consulting place I used to work for, I have nearly zero contact with – that should have been gold.

About the name of this blog: I chose it because I have the idea that the average American right now, and the younger, the more pertinent this is, feels entitled to be happy. They don’t want to hear about anyone else’s issues, they don’t want to learn to be a part of a larger whole like a multi-aged community or coalition – they want their gaming systems, their movie and TV services, and they want their social media. And that is ALL. I really wish I could be around in 30 years to see where many of these folks are at – whether the depression we have now is worse then because that generation never bothered to learn from others, because they chose to separate themselves.

I met a guy at an art show several months ago. Showed him my business card and he made some comment about how millennials are supposed to be more open-minded and carefree. Then he did a sprint away from me, figuratively, that would have made Carl Lewis jealous. Tried to contact him on social media and got partially blocked. That was enough for me to drop it at that point.

The people I wish would read this blog almost certainly won’t. They’re too “busy”, too “distracted”, too “happy.” Perhaps some of my resentment is little other than envy. Maybe I’m seeing something that isn’t real, that isn’t there. But it’s so … uneven. So that is why, in my tag line, I say that if you’re already happy, this blog is not for you. This is for the rest of us who you studiously avoid being involved with because you feel our adversity would contaminate your life and lifestyle.

I may not post here often, and I actually tried doing a blog like this years ago. Maybe someone out there will see himself in this blog. I wish I had a positive message to share but right now, I don’t.

One of my big resentments right now is with the so-called universe. I jokingly have said that because there’s only one universe, it doesn’t have any competition and – like any monopoly – can afford to be sloppy. That is not a completely original idea; I actually stole it from a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon when he was telling his father about Santa Claus – not entirely unrelated.

I have found myself in recent years railing against the universe, feeling that it is – intentionally (it seems) – withholding good things from me. Why, for example, am I in one of the ten largest cities in the U.S. but not getting “run into” smart people, connected people, whatever? I would be disgusted to find out IT thinks the problem is entirely mine. Really? A group of people take a 400-year headstart and you can’t make any corrections for that down the line? We have to wait centuries for social justice to come? How powerful are you?

And then – as we’re repeatedly told ad nauseam – we’re not the center of the universe, so much so that the message is almost, “Don’t want anything, ever.” Were human nature based exclusively on Buddhism with its concept of detachment it might have something there. But right now? Not so much.

I am not asking to be the “center” of the universe. I am just wanting to be the center of a tribe – to be  connected, celebrated, loved. It is sorely lacking and between my emotional depression and my inability to earn money, it is costing me a FORTUNE.

By the way – if you’re a fundamentalist or an evangelical, TUNE OUT. Way too many of you folks could have changed the result of the last election but you didn’t. You harp on the same issues over and over – sexual minorities, racial minorities, all you’re about is separatism and punishment. I daresay if Christ returned to earth you’d run him in as a Middle-Easternerner and bitch about him on AM talk radio.

That is it for the moment. This is an experiment. If it doesn’t work I could wind up living on the streets – that is, if I can’t get all my ducks in a row and the universe doesn’t give a shit.

Stay tuned.