Author: jdavis

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Is it possible to con a con? I want to find out. I’m curious what makes them tick? What is the purpose of doing what they do? What are they trying to accomplish? What is it they are after, and more importantly, why? 

The most obvious reason for me would be for fraudulent gain to connive your credit card and personal identification details for their monetary enrichment at your expense. It’s either the cons have gotten more sophisticated in their approach, or the cons of today are after something else, which bemuses me. Why? Because of the questions that they ask and the information they seek. It’s either the apparent reason still stands except they are taking their time to arrive at the big bang of obtaining your financial details, or they are working from a completely different angle. What would that angle be, though? I’ve never hung around long enough to find out. I tried, but they took too long, and I don’t have the patience to wait about to satisfy my curiosity.

Lately, I’ve been receiving FB friend requests almost daily from people in the same groups as I am. I don’t know these people per se but recognize their names, so I accept their friend requests since we have something in common. After all, if you don’t take a risk, how would you meet a potential friend? As a rule, I tend to accept friend requests from people who have a mutual friend or something in common with me. A week ago, I accepted a friend request from Frank Alexander because our mutual friend Jamie was a new friend. For some reason, I was leery, and I hesitated, but in the end, I decided to be more lenient, and I accepted his friend request. I figured if he made me uncomfortable, I’d unfriend him. For days, he was like everybody else and coexisted in the background on my friends’ list. Until this weekend when he messaged me. My first response was I didn’t want to talk with him. Something about him sent me into defense mode. I don’t mind having him as a FB friend, but I didn’t care to have a conversation with him. Does that make sense?

I hemmed and hawed for a couple of hours before I caved and answered his question that sounded harmless. He started with, “Hello, I’m Frank from Portland, Oregon and you?” Now, in retrospect, I should’ve been suspicious right off the bat. Do people really say that? He looks like a redneck, but it did not sound like the words and the style that an All-American guy would sound like from the way the conversation went. He had me feeling for him for a brief moment when he told me his wife died from breast cancer two years ago, and it’s just him and his nine-year-old son. This was the tender moment that he had me feeling for him. If only he stopped there, we’d still be friends.

He continued and asked what I do? I answered that I’m a writer and reciprocated by asking what he does, and that was the big bang for me. He responded that he’s deployed in Syria. I reminded him that he said he’s in Portland. He replied, “Not really,” which caused me to look into his FB profile for the first time. I really need to check out my new friends’ profiles straightaway. I’m glad I checked Frank’s profile, which I noticed he established his account two days before we became friends. He had only Jamie and me as friends. I mentioned that he has no friends listed, and he reasoned that he “doesn’t like to make much friends. I do come here to post some pictures.” I didn’t see any photos. He explained that his other FB account was blocked, and he opened this one. I asked him how he knows Jamie, and he replied that he didn’t know Jamie. I reminded him that Jamie is the only other friend other than me on his list, but he confirmed he doesn’t know Jamie? Holy cow, what did I get myself into? 

I still didn’t know what to make of this guy, so I asked him more clarifying questions. I asked him where his son is while he’s deployed, and he said his son is “staying in California with a Guardian in boarding school while he is away.” Have you ever heard someone talk like that? If you’re in boarding school, do you need a guardian?

By now, I had enough, and I told him this wasn’t going to work for me. He took it in stride and said, “It’s okay. I understood. Good night, have a wonderful night rest. I had a very busy day, I will need some rest, I appreciate your honesty. Good night.” Somehow, this does not sound like a redneck man or any American man to me. 

So, what just happened? If this person truly wanted a friendship, then why not be yourself. I don’t know what would have transpired had I kept talking with him, but I unfriended him and blocked him from Messenger. 

I’ve encountered a few other scams where the cons impersonated Laine Hardy. Why? Why Laine? These imposters respond to our comments on Laine’s posts as if they were the real deal. They create FB accounts pretending to be the real Laine. Then, they messaged you and tried convincing you that they honestly are Laine. It’s laughable that none of them bother to familiarize themselves with who Laine is or even have a clue about the latest Laine news to hold a decent conversation or to make their role more authentic.

The first “fake Laine” I chatted with said he was speaking with me from Louisiana when at the exact moment, I knew Laine Hardy was on a flight to the Persian Gulf. This con had no idea. There were many red flags, but I played along out of curiosity, waiting for the big bang. Being a Laine Hardy fan, I have tons of questions for him, but this conman kept redirecting my questions to me as he wanted to know everything about my life. He didn’t want to talk about him. He asked me questions like where I live and what I do for a living. I told him I was a student, and he asked where I went to school. See, it’s these questions that confuse me. Why do you want to know where I’m going to school? 

One guy complained that nobody wanted to be his friend. I don’t get it. Why not reach out as yourself and be honest. Why impersonate someone else? I wouldn’t mind being your friend if you were real. See, this is the part that bemuses me. What is the purpose behind these con jobs? Does anybody know? If so, please enlighten me. I honestly want to understand all of this. Sometimes, I’m so tempted to turn the tables on them for a change but to do that, I’d have to think like them, but I can’t. I wonder, though, what it would be like, one day, not today, to con a con.

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, June 1, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Being located down the street from a firehouse means it’s rare that a power outage impacts my street. Surprisingly, it happens, not often, but it does. Considering the rarity, I’m not used to a power outage when it happens, which it did this morning. At 5:33, as I began getting ready for my day, the bathroom light went off. I glanced at my nightstand, and the clock display was also blackened. I peered out the front window to my neighbor’s porch light. Their porch light is on nightly. Seeing it off, when they typically have it lit when I wake up, I knew that the power outage was not isolated to my house only. Meaning, there is nothing I need to do but to wait it out. 

Today told me that I need to work on my emergency plan a bit more. For starters, the most important thing of all—how to get that morning cup of joe. It’s hilarious, but you can get spoiled by the littlest things. I remember the morning after returning from my first cruise, I stood in front of my coffeemaker and exclaimed, “You mean I have to make my own coffee?” That was an eye-opening experience when reality kicked in. Today, what I would have given to be able to make my cup of joe. 

I wished I had leftover coffee to heat up in the microwave. Oh, right, the microwave uses power—scratch that. If only I had a cup of coffee sitting in the fridge, then I could have ice coffee, which would be better than nothing, but no ready-made coffee waiting anywhere in the house. Then, I got an epiphany—instant coffee. Right. Scratch that, no hot water without power. By this time, coffee was a forbidden item. Conceivably, I could venture out to buy a cup of coffee, but that would mean having to open the garage door, which would work manually. However, how would I reopen the garage door if the power were still out upon my return? Too much work to consider. Instead, I poured myself a nice cool glass of room temperature Zero water. Mm, delicious—just not a cup of joe that I wanted.

In times like these, I envy the people who let their hair dry naturally. It was a rude awakening to see the hairdryer on the counter, but I can’t use it. Luckily, this was simply nice to have. 

I’ve gotten into the habit of turning on my Amazon music as soon as I get up and enjoy listening to music while I get ready. Yet, today, I relented not knowing the duration of this outage when I noticed my cell phone had 60% battery power. Thank God for the personal hotspot feature I used in place of internet access on my MacBook. By the time the power came back on at 7:18, my cell battery had diminished to 30%. I made it a habit to charge all my devices to 100% before bedtime for the sole purpose of an overnight power outage. I’m fallible, and this is what happens if you skip an evening. Today was a good reminder that this is one area that I cannot drop my guard. It’s imperative to ensure we fully charge all of our devices.

Since the previous blackouts, I started leaving flashlights in every room. Today, I discovered that a flashlight is of little use when you’re in the dark closet trying to hold a flashlight in one hand while getting your clothes together. I got an epiphany, though, to affix a couple of those portable battery stick-on lights on my closet wall, and that should resolve this problem.

The timing of today’s power outage was right over the period I used to get ready for my commute into the city. Many people still have that same commute, which means the outage would’ve made many people late for work. Luckily, I use my Fitbit alarm, which has no bearing on the power. Otherwise, I’d be planning a backup alarm in preparation for the next power outage. 

It was no fun spending a couple of hours powerless, but it could’ve been worse if the power stayed out longer. I might be having a gigantic BBQ just about now. As it was, the power was out just long enough to allow me to reassess what works and what needs improving in my household in preparation for the next power outage since I’ve become so spoiled. Well, am I spoiled? Yeah, spoiled rotten!  

A Moment in My Life – Monday, May 17, 2021

A friend of mine is turning 70 in a few months, and he’s finally considering retiring. I’m amazed at how many people I know are way into retirement years but still happily working. I know many people who couldn’t wait to retire and counted the days until they could take early retirement. Interestingly, there is a variety of people out there. As for this friend, Bill, he’s feeling the effects of aging, and that spurs him to finally retire and enjoy what’s left of his young years before it’s too late. That’s something we all need to deal with at some point.

Bill riddled me with questions earnestly, having no clue what he’d do in retirement. He’s worked in the maintenance department of a school since he turned eighteen. He didn’t say so, but I inferred he equated his life’s purpose to his job and family from all that he shared with me. His wife passed years earlier, and his kids have families of their own. His job was the only thing left. Outside of his work, he has no life. He had weekly social groups, which dwindled as members relocated. He’s the creature-of-habit type. I can imagine all the insecurities and fears going on inside his mind. I faced them myself when I took early retirement. Yeah, I’m one of the latter. 

The only thing that I could offer him was my personal experience and suggestions to give him ideas on his retirement. Retirement is subjective, and in my humble opinion, I don’t think anybody can plan it for you. Everyone has to figure it out for themselves. Sure, there are professional planners, but ultimately, they can provide ideas, but you make the final decision. It has to be a lifestyle that sparks joy and one you can live with for the rest of your life.

Bill has little interest in extracurricular activities adding to the difficulty of his options. So, I rattled on with whatever came to mind starting with the fact that I don’t sit idle—some people like doing nothing and relish shooting the breeze all day. I’m a multi-tasker who can’t do nothing for long. I remember sunbathing with my sister one afternoon. We lay on lawn chairs on the roof of my apartment building in the city. Every 2 minutes, I asked her what time it was. After ten minutes, I couldn’t lie idle any longer. For me, suntanning meant whacking a tennis ball. With that said, as soon as I retired, I began living my childhood dream of being a writer, which means I canceled my retirement. 

For Bill, I suggested that he who excels in carpentry use it for some good. If he doesn’t need money, he could volunteer his time with whatever skills and talents he can offer. Or make creative mailboxes and sell them and give the proceeds to charity or donate the mailboxes to charity to sell. Perhaps he could make that a new career, or he might want to try a second career doing something he always dreamed of doing if he could. It’s never too late to go back to school and get a degree towards your dream. 

He might take on new hobbies where he could meet new friends. I feel sad for Bill. He counted on a small handful of people to hang out with regularly. Never expect them to move away for retirement. Some of them relocated to 55 and older communities, while others moved closer to their kids and grandkids. 

Another idea I suggested was travel or some sporty thing like golfing, tennis, fishing, or a combination of outdoorsy activities. Bill could join his local recreation center or a church where there are activities galore and seasonal events that could keep him busy all year round. 

It’s funny to me that Bill, who is a strong introvert, could spend all day sitting with someone and listen to them talk the hours away. Knowing this about him, I suggested that he befriend as many people as he could from different walks of life, which would guarantee that he’ll always have friends to socialize with. Everybody has his or her agenda. One person could rarely entertain you all day and every day. Of all of my suggestions, this suggestion lit up his face—poor guy. I feel for him. He doesn’t want to be alone. I get it. Who does? 

Bill is a sweet man. Hopefully, I provided him with some helpful fruit for thought when he takes that leap to the next phase of his life. I’m excited for him. My only wish is for him to find what makes him happy. My suggestions were simplistic and doable. Hopefully, that was enough to answer his question, “What do you do in retirement?”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, May 14, 2021

Thinking of “Faith Friday” reminded me of the “What Song Was Written About Your Life” game that I played on FB the other day. After I filled in my birth month, it revealed “Firework” by Kate Perry as my song. Never heard this song before. I don’t know Kate’s music either. I gave it a listen, and it’s a powerful and inspiring song. It feels fitting for the life that I’ve lived. But the song didn’t resonate with me as much as their description. Granted, I know that another song title and description may emerge if I played this game again. It’s all in fun. No more. No less.

I gave it another spin out of curiosity, and sure enough, a different song and description appeared. There was one sentence that popped up repeatedly in the description that stuck with me. “Jeannie believes in miracles because she has seen them come true.” No argument there. I have seen miracles in my lifetime.

The way I see it, miracles are a gift from God. We have no say in any part of it. It’s not about us but God’s mercy, love, kindness, and His majestic abilities. He is in control at all times. All I have to do is have faith in Him that He always has my best interest at heart, even during the darkest times.

The greatest miracle that I’ve witnessed happened two summers back when I had my second heart attack the day before my flight to San Diego. Instead of spending a week celebrating the family’s July birthdays in Southern Cal, I spent my birthday in the hospital in the bay area. Long story short, the doctors thought the original stent failed, but it hadn’t. Five years earlier, when I had my first heart attack, I became allergic to the cholesterol medication. Since I did well in changing my diet and lifestyle, my cardiologist decided that if I were allergic to one statin, I’d be allergic to all. She dropped the cholesterol prescription altogether since it was preventive only. It turned out, had she given me a small dosage, I would’ve been protected and wouldn’t have gotten the second heart attack. 

At that point, my heart was a mess. A team of doctors deliberated 1.5 days over my treatment plan. Some doctors suggested another stent or two. Others suggested a bypass. Ultimately, they all agreed it was too risky to perform the bypass or any procedure at that time. One doctor blurted out that I was weeks away from another heart attack. I didn’t expect to go home again or make it to my birthday. I began putting my affairs in order. Finally, the day I was to fly home from San Diego, they discharged me with a Coumadin treatment plan for three months. They reevaluated me three months later to determine if my heart was strong enough for that bypass after all. I prayed daily, and I changed my diet and lifestyle further. On the day of my echocardiogram, the technician announced that the blockage was gone. They could hardly tell I ever had a heart attack. I not only didn’t need the bypass or another stent, but I no longer needed the Coumadin treatment, either.

How is that possible that I transformed from being dangerously fragile to barely a trace of a heart attack? It was an act of God—a miracle at its finest. I left the hospital a believer that miracles do happen. What about you? Do you believe in miracles?

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, May 12, 2021

Have you ever encountered the police and cringed? I don’t encounter them often, but the few times that I have, I tend to cringe. I’m glad police encounters are the exception rather than the rule. Today, I was about to make a right turn onto El Camino North. I hesitated and hit the brakes when a car suddenly U-turned in front of me, going towards El Camino North. The car behind him did the same thing. I was glad I stopped, especially when my peripheral caught a black and white SUV first in line at the red light on El Camino North. Everybody was going in the same direction today. I did nothing wrong but spotting the police vehicle shot up my blood pressure. You can imagine me gripping my steering wheel so tightly when that same police car pulled up behind me in the left-hand turn lane at the next intersection. I took a breath. I told myself I wasn’t doing anything wrong and convinced myself that the cop was behind me because he was heading back to the station after the turn. He was. 

Growing up, adults said to trust the police yada, yada, yada. A part of me does treat the uniformed officers with authority and respect, while the other part of me feared them. Yes, I fear them. It doesn’t matter their skin color or their shape, or their size. The uniform makes me nervous. You’d think I had many run-ins with them, but that’s not so. Well, I take it back. I got pulled over once.

It was 6 a.m. on a dark spring morning on my way to work. Seeing it was clear, I turned left onto the street. As soon as I turned onto the road from the condo driveway, headlights abruptly blinded me from behind. I swore it was pitch black a second ago, or was it? At the moment, I wasn’t so sure anymore. The next thing I knew, there were red and blue lights spinning in the dark of the early morning. Ugh. It was a police car behind me! I moved into the first clearing to the right, and the police cruiser filed in behind me, confirming it was me the cop was after. 

As I waited for the Officer to walk up, I pulled down my mental dialog box and pondered my options. Option A: lie that I didn’t see him. Well, that would have been a partial truth because I didn’t see him—not until his headlights came on. Option B: play dumb that I knew nothing and know nothing. Maybe he’d let this dumb blond go. Oh, wait. I’m not blond. Rats. (Sorry, blondies, I mean no malice. When I was a kid, I dreamed of being a blond. I thought blond hair was the most beautiful thing in the world.) Option C: own it. That’s what I did. I chose to own it and deal with the consequences. I’ll accept the ticket and go to traffic school. No way I’d pay the fine for whatever reason I got pulled over for. As you can see, I’m a planner. I had everything planned out before the Officer approached me.

“Good morning, Miss.”

“Good morning, Officer.”

“Did you know you pulled out in front of me?”

“Yes, Officer, I realized that when you pulled me over.”

So far, so good. The Officer took my driver’s license and registration to run them through his system. When he returned, his demeanor softened, and he said, “I’m going to issue you a verbal warning this time.”

“Oh, thank you, Officer. I appreciate that very much.”

“Be careful. This is a dangerous intersection.”

Dangerous? Really? Since when? This neighborhood is the most uneventful bedroom community around. I’m not sure what happened that morning, but I was relieved and beyond grateful to the point where I wanted to thank him with baked cookies. I didn’t, though. I much rather stay as far away from the cops as possible. 

Three weeks later, a black and white turned left onto my street as I turned right onto the road he came from. Just as he made his turn, his headlights went black, and that caught my attention. He turned off his headlights at 6 a.m. in the dark of a March morning. I was right. He didn’t have his headlights on the morning he pulled me over. I thought I imagined things, but this morning, he assured me that I wasn’t crazy. I’m glad I didn’t bother giving him a thank you gift. Whatever for? He tried to bait me. I did nothing wrong. He did me no favors.

This incident added to my distrust of cops, but it didn’t change anything for me. I continued to respect them for what their roles stood for. I also continue to fear them because they have the power over me to arrest me at a whim, and I would have no voice. Not all cops are bad. What amazed me was that I am still afraid when I see a police vehicle near me in light of current events where there is disdain towards the uniform with the whole defunding the police bit. You’d think we had the upper hand, but as I said, nothing changed for me.

Come to think of it. I’m just a fraidy cat. One day last summer, a young Asian man in a police uniform walked up to me on my driveway, asking if I saw anything on the main street earlier. He was investigating a crime that took place. My immediate response was fear, but this time I wasn’t fearing “the cop” but instead fearing that he was a “fake cop”—someone trying to do me harm dressed as an Officer to mislead my trust. So, what this means, people, is that the poor police can’t win when it comes to me. They’ll have to live with me being afraid of them one way or another. Maybe one day after the police reform, etc., they may earn my trust and eradicate my fear, but I’ll continue to treat them with mixed emotions for now. I’ll respect them and obey their authority, and with that said, I will pray that they don’t abuse their power. I believe that Officer, who pulled me over, tried to up his ticket quota in a sneaky, not kosher way. Lucky for me, I’ve never gotten a ticket for anything, and he had no excuse but to let me off. He never knew that he added to my distrust of cops. There’s nothing I can do about what happened except lighten up the memory. I do that by poking fun at what happened every chance I get by adding these words to conversation. “Yes, Officer, I realized that…”

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, May 11, 2021

“No! You made the wrong choice!” I hollered to deaf ears as Elizabeth delivered her “Dear John” letter to Nathan at the beginning of the “When Calls the Heart” season finale. They had me at the edge of my seat, waiting and hoping that it was a red herring, a ploy to stir up the tension only to do a bait and switch in the end. They weren’t toying with us. They didn’t budge, and the curtains closed on a kiss between Lucas and Elizabeth.

The actress Erin Krakow who plays Elizabeth, shared in an interview on “Home & Family” that there was a whole team involved in brainstorming the massive list of reasons provided by a pool of people in finalizing their decision whether Nathan or Lucas wins Elizabeth’s heart. I didn’t care that Lucas began dating Elizabeth this season, I don’t know why, but I was gung-ho all along, thinking Nathan was the chosen one. I honestly believed that Lucas was the red herring. Before the finale, there was no pressure. I was okay with either Lucas or Nathan scoring, but as the clock ticked closer to the ending, I realized I was rooting for Nathan. I thought he was the sure deal. There was plenty of sexual tension between Nathan and Elizabeth to keep us warm all winter long. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I fell for all the red herrings they strategically sprinkled along the way, misleading me into believing in the wrong outcome.

Why wasn’t I part of the brainstorming pool? I would’ve set them right. I know more about romance than anybody else. Well, okay, maybe that’s an overstatement, but that’s beside the point. The point is that Nathan is the better choice. He radiates security—his uniform has little to do with that. There is something about him that makes you feel safe and secure. He’s strong yet gentle and kind. Yes, he’s quite the sexy guy, too. I didn’t think I needed to mention that, but I can’t take it back since it slipped out. Nathan has more at state, which makes him stable. You can count on him to be there for you, which is what Elizabeth and little Jack need. Nathan’s already a parent to his niece, Ally, equipping him for the parent role to little Jack. 

Lucas is an admirable man, the boy next door type, but he feels flighty to me. He may be a successful businessman, but what does he know about being a parent to a toddler? Lucas doesn’t seem ready to be in a relationship, let alone settle down. In other words, he doesn’t give me the feeling of safe and secure like Nathan does. 

I was so sure about Nathan. Although Elizabeth’s “Dear John” letter gave me a reason for pause. She loves and cares for Nathan, but she’s not in love with him. Elizabeth revealed that she was trying to replace her late husband with Nathan, which wasn’t fair or right for Nathan. Sigh. She’s right. I didn’t see that coming. Nathan deserves to be loved for all that he is and what he brings to the relationship. He’s nobody’s substitute.

“When Calls the Heart” will be back next season. I’m an unrelenting romantic. There is still hope that Elizabeth will acknowledge next season that her heart belongs to Nathan. Elizabeth will come to terms with her emotions. She will realize that she wasn’t trying to replace her late husband Jack with Nathan. Elizabeth will admit that it was her guilt of betraying Jack by falling for another Mountie that turned her away from Nathan. She will accept it was Jack’s plan all along to bring Nathan and Elizabeth together. And that’s how I would write the story instead of letting them stay with the wrong choice.