Are my current posts so boring that everyone seems to be reading my entries from… 2006? 

First I received that nice email from the Sun-Maid raisin girl about a post from that year.  Today, I received a different type of response to a ”humorous” post I wrote in May 2006 titled “Seven Reasons to Abolish Mother’s Day.”

The comment:

You are, by far, the biggest loser that has ever lived. I challange you to a debate on the reason for mothers. Obviously, yours has failed you and you are tainted in your view of mothers. What about father’s day??? How many have bailed out on their pregnant significant others? What about that, you coward? It has not happended to me…I just think you need to view the whole picture. Let’s meet face-to-face, or are you scared?

Valerie

Valerie –

I know EXACTLY who you are!  You are the coward.  If you are so brave, why don’t YOU use your real name?  Would you like me to out you?  OK, I will — Mrs.  Elaine Kramer! 

Nice try, Mom!  Valerie, hah!  You’ll stop at nothing, won’t you?  Don’t you know I can track you with Sitemeter?!

I know I said I would call you back in five minutes today and then forgot all about it.  I’m busy.  Get used to it!  I was on Twitter.  I had no time to talk.  And I know I still haven’t sent you a mother’s day card from… last year.   But seriously, get a life –

You’re the best, Mom.   Happy Mother’s Day on Sunday! 

(uh, the card is in the mail.  I just sent it today, so you probably won’t, uh, get it in time…)

I might as well finish up a week of blogging posts, with a post about blogging –

Yesterday, I made fun of those badges that we all put on our blogs announcing some award or honor. Today, I’m thinking of offering my own badge for you to put on a post. This time I’m not joking.

The idea came to me earlier today –

In the morning I brought my car in for a smog-check. Are there smog checks all across the country, or only California? Just in case you’re not familiar with them, you bring your car into a service station once a year and some machine makes sure that your car isn’t a terror on the eco-system. The service station knows that you have to do this test, so they find a way to rip you off (it’s the labor!) If you fail, you can’t register your car. If you pass, woo-hoo! — you can drive your car at 5mph on California’s crowded freeways and pollute away. That is, after you pay a FEE for your smog test certificate.

While, I was waiting for my car, I thought about some blogs that I had recently read. I noticed a growing thread online — internet addiction. I know that I have felt jitters when I haven’t checked my email by 3PM. I’ve worried about not blogging for TWO DAYS straight. Will everyone forget my name?

The internet used to be a lot simpler — blogs and email. Now there is twitter and facebook and flickr and youtube and… who wants to actually leave the house anymore?! I can even watch “Lost” right on my computer so I don’t even need to move my butt over to the couch to watch TV. I can twitter my restaurant’s exact address to you over my phone, and then take a photo of the sandwich I’m eating to show you all.

Because of personal issues with Sophia, I’ve been using the internet as a friend lately. After all, you never get mad at me. You love me — no matter how many times I curse! It’s nice having you. I just don’t want to get addicted. Don’t worry… I’m just taking precautions. I’m pretty bored with most of the stuff online. I could easily drop every application I use (except for my blog) and not miss it all. I’m too cheap to pay for texting or data on my phone, so I never “check my messages” when I leave my home. I like that. Still, I think it is important to remind myself that I am not married to technology, or hooked in an unhealthy way.

That’s when I had this idea for an internet smog check.

I would post some beautiful badge right here on this blog — maybe next week — created by someone talented like Secret Agent Josephine. This badge would say something like “I passed the test!” You could then post this badge on one of your blog posts, impressing your friends, but only if you first pass the test: You must stay off the internet completely for twenty-four hours for ONE DAY, from midnight to midnight. No email, nothing! Only then, could you post the badge on your blog, announcing to the world that you are a healthy person not addicted to the internet. Maybe you could even write a post about how hard or easy it was to not go online, inspiring us all to interact with real people.

If by 2009, a blogger has not yet posted her badge on a post, it would be a clear cry for help. If someone is unable to stay off the internet for just ONE day once a year, it is time for the rest of us to get together and have an intervention and help this poor soul.

We’re always asking each other to read our posts and be part of the “community,” but sometimes, the best way to befriend a blogger is to tell him to get the f**k off the computer and go outside!

More ways to fight the addiction.

I’m a bit constricted by my blog at times.  I look around and see that most of the well-known personal blogs revolve around that blogger’s day-to-day life.   I know that is obvious.  I’m just noting that these writers rarely deviate from their theme.  They use their blog as a journal or diary.  These bloggers let you into their world, warts and all, until you feel as if you know their family — and you care about them.  The best of these blogs, like Dooce, are  well-written and honest. 

I’ve never kept a diary.  It always seemed boring to me.  And I sometimes have trouble being honest.  I’m not a liar.  Well, I am.  I don’t only lie to you.  I lie to myself.  That’s why I’m in therapy.  So, in a way, my lying to you is being very honest.  Get it?

I try to write about reality.  Most everything in this blog, including my conversations with my Penis, is rooted in reality.  I find it interesting that my favorite posts are almost never YOUR favorite posts.  You seem to love when I write in an honest, diary style.   You feel as if I connected with you because I revealed some private truth.   It’s as if personal blogging is supposed to be the private become public, and dammit - he won me over with the admission that his mother washed his mouth out with soap.  It doesn’t really matter that I spent twice as long crafting something really silly.  The comedy never wins the Oscar.

Even if I were completely fact-based about my day to day life, I’m not sure I can effectively capture “me” through the details.  What actually happened today — May 1, 2008?  Sophia got a flat tire on the freeway and I came to her rescue.  I bought a new tire for her car and had a cup of coffee in Denny’s.  I arranged to meet with a producer.  I spoke to my mother.  This is all fun stuff, but most of the REALLY interesting events occurred in my head.  I got annoyed about “blog badges” and wrote my last sarcastic post.  I went on Craig’s List and wondered about apartment hunting.  I wondered how Carly from American Idol was managing.  I made a note to write a post someday about Brian Dunkleman (remember him — the comedian who co-hosted American Idol with Ryan Seacrest in season one!). I wonder if he is still pissed or if he was able to move on to a happy life.  I worried about this headache that I’ve had for three days, and tried not to become a hypochondriac, fearing it is a tumor or something horrible.

Am I  presenting a clear picture of my personality, and does it even matter?  I had an IM conversation with someone last week who seemed to be under the impression that I was some sort of Lothario having sex chats with women in every American city.  When do I have time?!   Truthfully, online sex chats would be too difficult for me because I would feel obligated, as a writer, not to be cliched.  How many unique ways are there to say, “So, are you unbuttoning your blouse now?”

Me:  “My hand is touching you…”

Her:  “Here?”

Me:  “Yes, there… but that’s not very descriptive.  Let me go on Wikipedia and look up what it is actually called in the  English language.   Also, I already used “touching you” twice already.  There must be some other way of saying that!”

Her:  “OK, enough.  I had my orgasm.  Thanks.  Bye.”

 I would feel too much literary performance anxiety to have any fun. 

I present myself as a nice Jewish boy who’s calling his mother every day, and then the next day I’m f**king four women in my bedroom.  Who am I?   I’m not sure I really know exactly who I am, so why should you?

But let me just stick to the blog — my writing.  Would be better to focus more on the reality in my life, or continue writing whatever shit comes to my mind?  The inconsistency of this blog’s tone must be very frustrating for some readers. 

I can also go the other way — not caring about you, the reader, at all.   That could be refreshing.  That would probably be the most honest approach.   I could explore different facets of my personality.  I could write a post like I was a woman.  I’d like to imagine what it would be like to give birth.  Would that be weird for you?  I’d like to be racist or nasty and say things that I don’t really believe, but not worry about your reaction. Why do I always have to write about what I believe?  It might be more fun to write about someone else’s beliefs. 

I’d like to finish a post without having to make the ending work.

In a new feature here on Citizen of the Month, we’d like to showcase the most interesting blogs and bloggers that are writing today.  It’s time to cut through all the PR and learn what makes some of our favorites really RAWK!  No more popularity contests.  No more BS.  On COTM’s “Top Ten Bloggers,” it’s always going to be the men and women who really matter, the ones we love (and hate!) up close and personal –  the Top Ten Bloggers of the week.   Each week, we’ll explore a new theme.  Because of my unique situation as a well-known personal blogger, my contact list runs deep.  You’re going to be surprised who is going to be involved!

Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?!

I’m now taking nominees for this week’s Theme:  Who are the Top Ten Poorest Bloggers?   We’d like to know!  I’m not just talking about some typical money problems — we want to meet those who have been unemployed for years, are in debt, may lose their home, or are just too lazy to make a living.  Are you one of those Top Ten bloggers?   Get on “the list” and let everyone know!

Who will be in this week’s #1 spot?  If you nominate yourself in the comment section, please email bank/IRS account information or a letter from a collection agency as proof of your honor.

Coming soon:  “Top Ten Bloggers” blog badges.  Show off to your friends that you rawk! 

In the last issue of Los Angeles’ Jewish Journal, there was a full-page advertisement from the McCain campaign. The ad consisted of a letter written from a woman in New Jersey who said she was once a Democrat, but was now going to vote for McCain. She insisted that she wasn’t a right-wing nut. In fact, she specifically said she was liberal in social matters such as abortion and gay rights. No, her big issue was Israel. And some think that the Republicans are a better “friend” to Israel than the Democrats. I don’t know if I agree, or understand what this “friendship” really means, but there is this impression out there.

I’m not an Israeli. I don’t let one issue become the reason I vote for a candidate. But Israel is a big thing for most Jews. Is it surprising? Or wrong? Are we upset when the Irish care about Ireland? Or Chicago residents root for the Cubs? Passover just ended. The whole story of this ancient holiday, one that Jesus himself celebrated, is about Moses leading the chosen people into the Holy Land.

Do backers of Israel have too much of a say in American policy? Perhaps. Or is Israel in the best interest of America? The Arabs may have the oil, but when you get stuck at a seder, you’ll be glad you’re drinking the Israeli stuff rather than our own Manishevitz. And did you know that Natalie Portman was born in Israel? Enough said.

The Chosen People. I sometimes get the weirdest anti-Semitic emails about the phrase “chosen people,” as if Jews believe God gave them special freebies, like bigger penises on Jewish men. While this is true for some of us, I can’t vouch for every Jewish man. Maybe next week, I’ll write a post about “the chosen people” and have some of you goyim tell me what you think the phrase really means.

I’d like to also hear more of your feelings about our policies with Israel. Is America too biased towards Israel? Who do you think we should be biased to? Syria? Don’t be afraid to speak your mind. I already know which of you are anti-Semitic. Seriously, I’m open to different views. I have a few blogging friends who live in Europe who are very upset about the conditions of Palestinians in Gaza, and pretty much blame Israel. I understand the humanistic need to fight for those without a voice — the underdog. It is part of the liberal tradition. It is also why Republicans have made inroads with the Jewish community. Because many have forgotten that Israel is an underdog also.

I don’t think I met a Republican until I was twenty years old. A Republican in New York? A Jewish Republican? But politics make strange bedfellows. Soon, it was the religious right that was supporting Israel, while liberals like ex-President Jimmy Carter were sharing tea with Hamas leadership.

I consider myself fairly liberal. I care for the underdog. I just happen to see Israel as an underdog, despite its military power. Look on the map.

There’s a lot of guilt to go around in the Middle East. Israel can suck, too. Their policies have caused chaos in Gaza. But then again, I don’t live there. It is very hard to be sympathetic to those wanting to kill you.

I once read this very bizarre article (written by a French intellectual, of course) which theorized that Israel was bad for the Jewish people. This writer was proud of the older generation of Jews — the ones who thrived in Europe and added so much to European intellectual life — the Spinozas and Einsteins of the world. Now, Jews lost some of their moral high ground by having Israel. They became like everyone else. He seemed disappointed in these new Jews, because these Jews weren’t as alienated and miserable as they used to be. What should liberals do with Jews who aren’t victims — the prototypical victim?

I think the extreme right and the extreme left end up meeting in the same place concerning Jews and Israel: they don’t really feel comfortable with them being normal people. It’s as if they take “the chosen people” more seriously than Jews themselves. They need to be “chosen” for something, whether they want to or not.

How many other countries get the scrutiny that Israel gets? Or is as demonized by liberal Europeans, despite violence going on all over the world? Or is berated for land that was given them, and then won after the other side repeatedly attacked them? Or has given back most of the land and repeatedly made compromises? That actually respects the religion of their enemies?

Still, it would be nice to go back in time, to a more carefree era — back before half of the Jewish population was wiped out by the Nazis — back to the shtetls of Russia. Imagine if we could just move all the Jews back to Russia! I can give up blogging and return to my life as a grumpy milkman with three daughters, waiting to become a rich man. Wouldn’t that be a miracle of miracles?!

Of course, this dream could become a reality, as one blogger points out. In an interesting article in today’s BlogHer, Dana J. Tuszke writes “Quo Vadis, Israel?,” in which the blogger paves a way for peace in the Middle East by following H. Peter Nennhaus’s cool plan:

Nennhaus proposes that purchase of the land called the Kaliningrad Oblast from Russia, would encourage Russian immigrants to return to Russia by means of financial enticements, and the transfer of the Israelis to the Baltic, would prevent anyone from questioning the legitimacy of this new Israeli homeland.

What do you think? Could Israel relocate its entire nation? Could peace finally be achieved?

This is perfect for me, since I’ve already married a Russian and know how to drink vodka! Das Vadanya, Comrade Jews!

Life is all around you, all the time. My own head is spinning, trying to put together the pieces to my own puzzle. My desk is a mess. My work, my writing, and my relationship with Sophia pull me to the north, west, and south — and I want to go east. I want to reach out to you, but you live on your own rollercoaster. I appreciate that you share with me a little part of your life each day. It gives me insights into my own.

Some random posts that caught my eye, for no other reason that I know you lived it, which in itself, makes it special.

Caitlin married Billy!

A new baby at Turn of the Sue!

Sarah has not smoked for ONE WEEK! Yeah!

Karen Sugarpants is running for charity.

Blogography is in the middle of his yearly blowout blogiversary party.

Mocha Momma is proud of her daughter’s big Senior Project.

Elisabeth’s daughter, Claire, is graduating from Pitt with a BA in English Writing (Oh, no!!!!)

Kyran lived it up in NYC.

Blackbird’s son is in the top three finalists of the Cloverfield video competition.

Los Angelista announces the winners of her Earth Day Contest.

Leahpeah has moved to a new house.

Carly officially launches her new book, Sexography, tomorrow night.

Mamarosa is having a fight with her thyroid, but she is going to win because she has faith!

Danny’s work was stolen from his car! Boo!

Feel free to add your own link in the comments if there is something exciting going on in your life.

Note: It’s probably time to wrap up the Great Inteview Experiment. It had it’s three month run, much longer than I thought it would. Maybe I’ll mention it on the BlogHer site since I never really promoted it. Other than that, add your name if you are still interested. But it is time to move on to bigger and better things!

Elisabeth Hasselbeck with her Maclaren Stroller 
(thanks to the lovely Cheaty Monkey.  More strollers on her blog)

I hope I didn’t insult any women in the last post by questioning our special male/female friendship. 

I really do enjoy reading the blogs of women.  I learn a lot about your gender.  I’m supposed to be a writer, so it is important to get insights into the minds of women.  One day, I hope to have the ability to write a real, three-dimensional female character who doesn’t just have sex with strangers in alleyways and shoot people with the revolver she has hidden in her garter belt.

In my last post I made a joke about mommybloggers who write about celebrity strollers.  Rather than making fun of this, I might as well learn more, in case I ever have to write about this subject.  It is good to be well-rounded. 

So, tell me.  If you’re a mommy strolling down Rodeo Dr. or Fifth Avenue or Main Street with your baby in a stroller, and you meet another mother, do you actually take note of the BRAND of the stroller?!  Is it a status symbol, akin to a guy driving a Ferrari or a Hummer?  Is there that much difference in the quality of a stroller?  Would you be afraid to be seen using a stroller from Walmart?  Does one stroller fold more easier than the other?   Have any of your babies had more than one stroller, and actually preferred one over the other?

Naomi Watts and her Bugaboo stroller.

Let’s get down to my writing.

Imagine I’m trying to write an episode of some new TV show about mothers who live in, say, Pittsburgh.  The show is called Pittsburgh Mommies.

Producer:  “We need a re-write!  Bring in that Neilochka!  He KNOWS how to write women!”

My assignment:  There is a crucial scene between two mothers who meet in the park, the roles played by Jennifer Garner and Teri Hatcher (who left Desperate Housewives to star in this show).  Would something like the following sound believeable to a real mother? –

Jennifer:  Teri, how are you?  I see little Tyler is feeling better.

Teri:  Oh yes, the little munchkin is perfect.

Jennifer:  Hmmm…

Teri:  What, Jennifer?

Jennifer eyes Teri’s new stroller with jealousy in her eyes.

Teri:  Oh, I see you’ve noticed this little thing…

Teri laughs nervously.

Jennifer:  How did you get the new Bugaboo?  It hasn’t even been released to the general public yet?

Teri:  Oh, one of Michael’s clients works for the Bugaboo company.  We paid for it, of course.  Isn’t he a darling husband?  He’s always bringing me little presents.

Jennifer:  This isn’t just a little present.  This is a brand new Bugaboo.  Do you know how much this costs?

Teri:  Oh , Michael wouldn’t tell me.  He just said, as long as the baby is living in comfort — that’s all that’s important.  I mean it’s not essential to have a Bugaboo.  Your Maclaren stroller is perfectly good enough for your Sarah.

Jennifer:  What do you mean by that?

Teri:  I mean, I know Eddie has been laid off lately.  A Bugaboo is a little out of your price range.

Jennifer:  So are you saying that Tyler deserves better than Sarah?

Teri:  Of course not.  The Maclaren is an excellent stroller.  As is the Siver Cross Pram, the same one Maggie Gyllenhaal uses!  And the… It’s just that Michael…

Jennifer:  Michael!  Michael!  I’m sick and tired of hearing about your stupid husband Michael!  Maybe if you moved your eyes once in a while away from your stroller you would notice that he’s shtupping Ashley Friedman at the Hyatt Hotel every Thursday Night during your vibrator and dildo selling  party!

Teri: — You bitch.

Jennifer turns over Teri’s stroller, with the baby still inside.

Jennifer:  — I hate you!  I hate you… and your Bugaboo!

CUT TO:

INT.  PITTSBURGH HYATT - NIGHT

Lovemaking scene between Teri’s husband, Michael, and Ashley Friedman.

OK –

Mommybloggers, did this baby stroller scene ring true?   I know it did.  Thank you for letting me learn about your secret lives.

I recently wrote a recent post titled, “How to Get Hot Chicks to Read Your Blog.”   It was a response to an email from a male blogger who was in awe of all my female readers.

But there’s a negative side to having a blog that women like to read.   I’m not a woman.  And they are.  And flirting can only go so far.  The big question is, “Can I actually be friends with any of these women?” 

Believe it or not, it can be lonely hanging around blogs that are so heavily geared for women.  Sometimes I wonder if I belong.  I’m even beginning to question my decision to go to BlogHer.  In what way does BlogHer represent anything about me? 

I think the only solution for me is to finally get my cojones — and interact with more men.  What am I afraid of?  I know I’ve mentioned this before in the past, but each time I took the journey into male blogging, I promptly ran back to the soft and ample bosoms of the female bloggers.  Believe me, I’m dragging myself kicking and screaming.  Most men are pretty dull.  I certainly don’t look at THEIR photos on Flickr, in amazement that such gorgeous individuals could actually care about me!  But it is time to expand my horizons. 

I get jealous of the comaraderie of female bloggers.  You act like sisters.   You write blogs for each other.  Mommybloggers, in particular, seem to consider themselves to be born in the image of Good Housekeeping magazine, and even address their readers as “fellow mothers.”  More power to you.  This is about me…. and my identity.  For better or worse, I’m not a parent, so it makes sense that I’m not on the same page as the mommybloggers, or even the daddybloggers, of the world, who clearly have specific interests that are important to them, like celebrity strollers.

I know several female bloggers here in California. It would be cool to be their “friends.”  These female bloggers fall into two groups — those in a steady relationship or married and those who are not.  Both types have built-in obstacles for any real friendship.

Let’s take the married mommyblogger, for example.  How the hell am I ever going to be friends with her?   Let’s use the imaginary BloggerMama, for example.

Imagine I email BloggerMama right now and say, “Hey, BloggerMama, leave the husband and child at home, and let’s go check out the new Keanu Reeves flick together?” 

It’s just not going to work. 

First of all, she would probably want to bring the baby, and I just don’t deal well with babies at the movie theater.  And despite me being the perfect gentleman, sooner or later, if I email her every week, asking her to go to the movies, Mr. BloggerMama is gonna hate my guts.  The only way we could make this work is if we went out as married couples.  And that means, we have two non-bloggers in the group  — Mr. BloggerMama and Ms. Neilochka, which means we have to talk about real life, and BloggerMama and I only know and care about blogging crap.

The situation is even more dangerous with the unattached female blogger.  Right from the beginning, she is going to wonder about my intentions:

“Hmmm… I know things are rocky with Sophia.   Is he really asking me to see that Keanu Reeves film or does he… Hmmm… he’s always writing about his penis.  I wonder if he is a sex-crazed nutcase who just wants to…  Hmmm… I actually like sex-crazed nutcases, but what if we do something, and he blogs about it?  He’s the type of jerk who blogs about anything on his stupid blog.  Hmmm…  he does write about his mother a lot.  He must be a real mama’s boy.  Hmmm… I wonder if he just wants to sleep with a shiksa and then say he can only marry someone Jewish.  Hmmm… I bet you he is!  What an asshole!  What type of slut does he think I am.  F**k him!  I think it is safer that we never meet…”

Ok, make believe we DO go to see this Keanu Reeves movie together.  Just as friends.  We split the bill.  We each buy our own popcorn.   We have a great time.   But trouble is looming.  We’ve all seen “When Harry Meets Sally.”  How long is it going to be before one of us is checking out the other’s ass? 

Let me rephrase that.  How long before I’m checking out her ass? 

Let me rephrase AND answer that.  At what point during our first meeting will I be thinking about her naked?  Answer:  Probably during the first ten minutes.

What can I do?  I’m a man.  I’m sorry.  It’s horrible, I know. 

Can you see how it actually sucks to have so many female readers and so few male readers?  It’s like some bizarre Twilight Zone episode where I am surrounded by hundreds of desirable and intelligent women, but when I reach out to them, they fade into nothingness, and the only place to go for companionship is into the smoky room in the back with the men, along with their smelly cigars, Beer Nuts, and poker chips.

With blogs and bloggers becoming more important in the media, it’s become common to hear about a blogger interviewed by the New York Times or chatting on the Today show.  I don’t want to sound like I have sour grapes, but my opportunities in the “real” media world have been pretty thin.   That’s why I jumped out of my chair on Friday when I received an email from the The Dr. Phil Show. 

The email began –

“My name is Emily and I work with the Senior Producer at the Dr. Phil Show here at Paramount in LA…”

Emily continued on about some post I had written in 2006 about Sophia’s parents getting ripped off at a local mattress store.   She wanted me to call, so we could discuss this post. 

Woo-hoo!  I imagined fame and fortune and everything that goes with it…

But there was one red flag.  The letter was hastily written, with several spelling errors.  Was it spam or just written by  a very busy individual.  I googled Emily and was she legit.   My success was back on track.

I took a deep breath before calling the show.   I was a little anxious… for a very good reason.  I have made fun of Dr. Phil several times on my blog, even mocking his son’s marriage to a Playboy bunny. 

Then I remembered that he is a forgiving guy. 

“Isn’t that what his show is all about?”  I said to myself.

The past is the past.  Especially, if the Dr, Phil show wanted me as a guest.  I imagined an important show about “Senior Citizen Rip-offs” and Dr. Phil calling me from the audience:

Dr. Phil:  “And now, with more ways for seniors to protect themselves against shady mattress store franchises, I’d like to bring up blogger/consumer expert, Neil “Neilochka” Kramer, who writes the hugely-successful blog, Citizen of the Month.”

The female crowd goes wild.  Many lift  banners and signs, ala American Idol, reading “Take My Bra Off, Neilochka!”

With my mind jam-packed with these vivid images, I called up Emily at her Paramount office.  She quickly answered the phone.  She was waiting for my call. 

For me?!   My ego rose to heights never seen before.

“Thank you, thank you for calling back!” she said, somewhat frantically.

Wow!  Was the show that desperate to have me as a guest?   She seemed almost in awe of me, as if she was on the phone with Tom Cruise, begging him to come on the show for an exclusive interview.

“How can I help you?” I asked, speaking in a deeper than usual voice, trying to hide my New York accent.

“I’m so glad I found you,” she continued.  “You see, my boss is in the hospital.  A few days ago, she asked me to buy her a new mattress for her home, so I went to Ortho-mattress, and they ended up ripping me off on the price, not promising what they said, and then charging me too much for shipping.  The mattress cost hundreds of dollars more than she allocated and now I don’t know what to do.  I haven’t told her yet — and I’m afraid of getting fired.  So, I googled mattress rip-offs in Los Angeles and found your blog, and I ‘m hoping that you can give me some advice!”

Advice on mattress rip-offs?!  So you won’t get fired?  This is what the email was all about?!   You mean, Dr. Phil didn’t want me ON the show?!

I had this tight feeling in my stomach.  I remember the first time I felt it.   During grad school, I went out with this cute girl, thinking she wanted to take off my clothes, but all she wanted was to “pick my brain” to learn how she and her boyfriend could find a agent for some sci-fi screenplay they wrote together about a war with some crazed robots.

Luckily, Emily was quite nice, despite her reason for calling me.  We talked for fifteen minutes.  Well, mostly she talked.  She just moved to a new apartment and she couldn’t get fired because she has all these debts, and it wasn’t fair that she got ripped off by the mattress store, and now she has to face the producer, and she is very very nervous…etc.  We chatted like old friends, which was odd considering that she just found my blog on a Google search.  But maybe Dr. Phil only hires very friendly staff members.

I told Emily that mattress stores are the last refuge of sleazy salesmen.  For instance, when you buy a car nowadays, you usually know how much the sticker price is from looking it up on the internet.  Sealy and Serta intentionally name the same mattresses different names depending on the store, so it is difficult for the consumer to do a price check.  I advised Emily to call the Better Business Bureau, the store’s corporate office, and lastly, to contest the charges with her credit card. 

After I hung up the phone, it occurred to me that I actually WAS helpful.  Google DID bring her to the right person to speak to about mattresses.  The internet worked.

Dr. Phil, I’m ready for my close-up!

From the archives:  An even earlier mattress store story.