You have my gratitude...

I wanted to take this opportunity to recognize the pioneers of my fundraising efforts. Right out of the gate you magnificent seven people so graciously donated to help me reach my goal of $4400 plus. So not to embarrass anyone and respect privacy, I'll only use initials.

PL: The very first donation comes from the man who puts the bomb in Jaeger Bomb. Keep those hands up killer.

MD: My long lost neighbor and after school street football teammate. Those were the days old buddy.

JF: Who knows? Another time and another place... and we might have been something. Ha! At least you'll always have the memory of me flipping out over group work.

Mr. Y: I've always thought of you like a second dad. My family and I are so very fortunate to have your family in our lives.

K,L,W,D to the H: You guys are the real reason it was so hard to leave California. My favorite recent memories are from being there for the start of your family and finally becoming Uncle Bobby.

RJ: You probably don't realize how much I appreciate all your help during some really tough times. I'm glad I can call you my brother.

HL: I'm thrilled that you and Pony Boy Curtis are still together. All us other Berkeley Heights Asians continue to look to you as our role model.

To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee...Verizon!

I was going to write about how long distance running and swimming have made me a calmer, more serene person. For instance, just last week my Garmin turn-by-turn navigation system was stolen from my car. Three months ago I probably would have "flipped the switch" roaming the streets with a vengeful, seething rage. But when I found out "Liz Hurley" (the name with which I christened my trusty Garmin... after setting the voice to "sexy British") was stolen, I mourned for a couple of minutes, looked around a bit, and then went to Costco and bought another one.

I instantly credited such rational behavior to my newly started regime of triathlon endurance training. I was ready to write something like this...

"Endurance training brings about a truly fulfilling zen-like high. You're more aware of your surrounding, in check with your emotions, and appreciative of what you have when you're sucking wind with exhausted muscles and an undeniable thirst for cold water. I can't remember the last time I've felt so at peace..."

Of course all that nonsense was thrown out the window today when I was re-acquainted with an old nemesis hellbent on shattering my newfound inner-Miyagi.

"Welcome to Verizon, your broadband company.
Para continuar en español por favor marca dos."

I am ashamed to admit that after years of repeatedly getting screwed by Verizon's spotty Internet service and horrendous customer service call centers, I still procured Verizon's FIOS Internet/TV package. Hey, I wouldn't be doing a triathlon if I wasn't a little bit of a masochist right? But when my FIOS service predictably broke earlier this week, I was loathe to be reminded that I had indeed chosen Verizon to be my "broadband company" yet again. Of course the duopolistic nature of regional broadband providers (i.e. Comcast AKA the other White Devil) puts us all in a no-win situation. But hey, at least I'm glad to hear my sworn enemy had decided to become bilingual.

"For billing press 1.
To order services or programs press 2.
For everything else press 3."

What the hard-of-hearing Verizon she-tomaton fails to realize in her pre-recorded head is that 99% of the people that call are going to press 3, because Technical Support is the only reason people will ever call. And the vast majority of the time, interacting with Verizon's Technical Support (or trying to interact with them) will only lead to frustration, anger, hopelessness, and resignation...in that order.


I could go on and on detailing my most recent travishamockery with Verizon, but its an all too familiar tune.
...All our representatives are busy, please hold while I connect you to an agent...
...I can't do that here, let me transfer you to billing, please hold...
...Can I have your full name, zipcode and address for verification purposes (chorus)...
...I can't do that here, let me transfer you to technical support, please hold...
etc., etc.

Surprisingly, the zenith of my anger today didn't rise beyond a 15 second tirade and a dash of gratuitous PG-13 cursing. All in all, not a bad showing considering all the completely unreasonable crap that Verizon had put me through while I waited at home for them from 8:00AM to 5:00PM.

Maybe I am a changed man.

So allow me to pass along three tips from a veteran of Verizon Customer Service (also applicable to virtually any call center).

1) Bypass the "automated operator" by repeatedly saying "Talk to an agent"

2) Whenever you finally get to talk to a human being, ask for their last name and direct dial number. If they give you crap, say you need that info in case you get disconnected. Asking for information that holds people accountable signifies that you mean business and won't take shit from no one. Not surprisingly, you also get treated better.

3) If a service tech is scheduled to come to your place, repeatedly call the day of to make sure the tech is showing up. If possible get the number of the local Verizon service tech dispatcher and harass them. The dispatcher wields all the power.

After enduring a ten-hour mental beat down from the nearly dozen faceless Verizon representatives I interacted with today, its weirdly comforting to know that there's always a good 40 minute run or swim ready to take me away and bring harmony to my shattered soul. That or I can go out and find that son of a bitch who stole Liz Hurley from me!

With a name like Rock?

In addition to being the most entertaining of the franchise, Rocky 3 is also the most realistic. The shear number of bombs thrown per round in any average Rocky fight would surely ensure a quick resolution in real life. You can't keep throwing and taking haymakers for 15 rounds.

Unlike the other movies, the two fights in Rocky 3 each only last a few rounds with each fighter getting knocked out. In Rocky v. Mr. T One, an emotionally shaken, soft around the middle Rocky gets creamed by a driven, foo' crushing force of nature with a mo-hawk. Lucky for Rocky, his former foe Apollo Creed comes sauntering in with his fetching half tank and short shorts to save the Italian Stallion from his self doubt and caveman exercise routines.

Apollo introduces Philadelphia's favorite son to water and makes him swim laps, which leads to the legendary exchange between Apollo and Rocky's curmudgeon brother-in-law Paulie.

Apollo: Can he swim?
Paulie: With a name like Rock?

Today was my first time doing laps in a pool for a long, long time. Needless to say I was more rock than fish. It's going to take a while for me to even reach manatee status. Luckily the TNT swim instructors seem to adhere to the same kind of tough love as Coach Creed.

After an inspiring training montage, Rocky finally masters his many swim strokes and takes down Mr. T in their rematch. I like to think that in this fight, Rocky's superior laps-induced conditioning helped push him over the top. I can only hope that by May I too will deserve a congratulatory beach hug from Apollo Creed.