SGMR Industries, Inc. Data Breach

Yes, I'm back to doing SGMR Industries, Inc. posts. 

Good news, folks, we've found a way to direct media attention away from our President & CEO's latest drunken tirade, and we get mentioned in the same paragraph as Sears, Kmart, Whole Foods, Panera Bread, and other fine companies. This is truly a shot in the arm for our bottom line. We will be having a celebratory press conference this afternoon and all employees are required to attend an can make up the four hours this weekend.

So what happened? There was a minor data breach in our server room and a few names and email addresses got stolen. And physical addresses. And social security numbers. And credit card numbers. And banking details. And security questions and answers. But that's all. The data was encrypted using the always-dependable A1Z26 Encryption Protocol. The number of records stolen could have quite possibly been as few as 15, but most likely it was in the neighborhood of 1.5 billion. We will be taking steps to recover the data before it's decrypted and sold to…oh, right, it was decrypted immediately and sold off to the highest bidder. Well, for all of those people looking for a fresh start, now is your chance.

More good news is that the President & CEO's data was not involved in the breach, nor were any of the executives of the company as their data is kept on separate servers in the Cayman Islands for "tax purposes". While we would take some of the blame for this issue, it should be noted that nobody thought that anyone would ever want to break into our computer systems since they are probably riddled with viruses due to the President & CEO's penchant for web surfing while intoxicated (and without pants). It also comes as a surprise to us that anyone would take our privacy policy seriously anymore and trust that their data is safe with us. I guess we can blame the victims.

We will be live streaming our press conference for free at 5pm, Cayman Island time (we don't know time zones). You must register with your social security number and valid credit card in order to view the conference.

Chapter 2. Kissin' Time

Originally written April 26, 2016

Thinking back, I figured that the Lovin’ Spoonful album was probably a gift that my parents didn’t entirely care for but didn’t want to get rid of, so they added it into the kids’ music collection. I’m pretty sure if mom and dad didn’t much care for the album before they gave it to us, they were probably sick and tired of “Summer in the City” after that. I don’t think I ever listened to anything else off of that album except for that one song, and that was because that song had a sound that I liked. Of course, I would eventually get past that song and onto bigger and better. You might even say, “The hottest band in the world."

Kiss had already been around longer than I had been alive, but by the time I was old enough to have heard of them they would come out with the album that would redirect the rest of my life. Destroyer put Kiss on the map. I could go off on a tangent of how Bob Ezrin produced this album and would follow it up by producing Pink Floyd’s The Wall album, but hell, I was three and a half years old and didn’t really care much for that. All I knew was that the band looked cool in their black and white makeup, the giant boots, and their music appealed to me. Lyrically, I think it’s safe to say that I didn’t understand many of the double entendres that they were using, it was just cool. Just this moment, I realized that “Strutter” was about a stripper, and I’m 42. I just never thought about it (that is a conversation for another day).

Let me pause here and discuss a little something that I still read about to this day. Back in that magical time of the seventies, many young people latched onto Kiss as a band of rebellion from their parents’ music and what society as a whole deemed as acceptable. Many of those parents My parents understood that music was music and that by allowing us to own and listen to Kiss, they weren’t turning it into “forbidden fruit”. This would continue on with Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Ozzy, and Dio. All of these acts were permitted in my parents’ house because they recognized that music is music.

Anyway, we were friends with the kids down the street, the older two were our ages and also Kiss fans. We used to play on the neighbor’s swing set and sing Kiss songs and just have fun. I know it sounds silly now, but when you’re a kid, that was the height of fun. Growing up, there was a vast cast of characters that I will eventually run through as I write this. Some of them have faded away completely and others simply moved into the periphery for a time. They will be introduced in due time and as the story requires.

Eventually, my brother and I would get the solo albums, Kiss puzzles, Kiss dolls, and the remote control Kiss van. Yes, Kiss was all about merchandising (say it like Mel Brooks in Spaceballs, it’s funnier) and Eric and I fell for it completely. We were even allowed to stay up past our bedtime to watch Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park, which was the greatest movie of all time (at age three or four, the taste centers of the brain are severely undeveloped). I would watch this piece of sh…film many years later thanks to a friend and I really can’t remember much of it except that members of the band were in it and there was an amusement park. These days, I’m amazed that that movie isn’t listed as directed by Alan Smithee.

Kiss will come up again. And again. And again. This is because I ended up seeing the band three times, though one could be listed as unofficial since it was before their return to the makeup. For now, though, I’m going to go back to listening to their debut album and remember some of those smaller details of my early life.

My NaNo 2018 Plans

NaNoWriMo is still off in the future a few months. Currently it's in the mid-90s and it's the 4th of July. However, I've been thinking a lot about this year's project which is in the advanced planning stages. I've thought about how I'm going to undertake the challenge this year and have decided to shake things up a bit.

While the spirit of the month is quantity over quality (50,000 words in 30 days), I have decided that I'm not going to incessantly pore over my word count. My plan is to check it and update it once a week, and maybe a couple times in the last week for verification.

I will not be writing in Scrivener, but in OneNote, which what I've taken to doing since it's readily synced up with all of my computing devices (I'm writing this in OneNote on my phone, for example). Don’t get me wrong, Scrivener is possibly the best novel-writing software on the market, but I want to switch things up this year.

I will write every day, but some days may be more productive than others. I’ve found that forcing myself to write at least 1,667 words per day makes me less productive overall. I have a tendency to want to keep going forward on my story idea rather forward on word count. That is, I don’t like to go back to an earlier point in the story and start writing from there again. I tend to want to pick up from the last events that I wrote, whether they’re good or not. I will be thinking more about the story this year since I am more productive when I have fresh ideas in my head.

I seem jump way out ahead of daily goals in the first week and then slow down after that. That’s because the idea is fresh and there are infinitely many directions I could go with the story, but that quickly narrows down to only a few directions and I rarely, if ever, choose wisely. Thinking about this, I could write a Choose Your Own Adventure style of story this year and keep going back to the beginning. Or, I could start writing thirty different stories, that way I get the day one momentum every day of November.

Chapter 1. This is Where It All Starts

Originally written April 21, 2016

A few years ago, I attempted write my memoir. As I started to write it, I felt that much of my life was way too boring as a whole. So I decided instead to pick out specific events, certain nuggets of interest and write about those instead. That would be far more interesting than my David Copperfield (the book, not the magician) life, as described by Brad Pitt’s Louis in Interview With the Vampire, “I was born. I grew up. I died.” No, nobody would want to hear the pathetic tales of a grade school kid trying to be accepted and failing at every turn. So, I turned to the events and wrote about those with little if any foreshadowing. How did I come to be declared dead by the student body of a high school that didn’t even know me? What happened before that, and that, and even before that? These are the stories that nobody would want to read, but they are the stories I want to tell.

I had gotten turned onto a blogger, music writer, and photographer named James Stafford, who was writing and posting a new chapter of his memoir, Why It Matters, weekly. There was something there that I needed to read. As a skeptic, I don’t believe that things are meant to be, but I definitely found something to connect me to this life being played out before me. Each chapter (most of them, at least) was titled with a lyric to a relevant song to that chapter for the most part (something I will not be doing). It was life affected by music that he discovered in his earliest years after he rescued his aunt’s record and 45 records from certain doom (DOOOOOOOOOM!). While his story is far more interesting than mine could ever be, I notice some parallels, and I pull some inspiration from his words. I look back at my earliest memories of childhood, to the house where I grew up, and instantly there is music…

“What kind of music do you like?” This is a question that has haunted and harassed me for most of my life. It’s a question that, when asked, sends my mind into a vortex looking for an answer. It’s a question that makes me think that the asker is convinced that it is only conceivable for a person to like one kind of music. Depending on my mood, I may choose to answer with a “yes”, or simply by saying, “all kinds." I don't only like one kind of music, but all kinds, from all genres. I've been told that one cannot like Pink Floyd and punk music because the latter hated the former. I guess then that I am violating some artificial construct of the social order because I will listen to Dark Side of the Moon followed by Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death just to spite the people who say it can't be done. I suppose I could blame my upbringing.


I was born nine months after what I will simply refer to as the greatest album of all time was released (don’t read anything into that, please). I was born into a family that loved their music. Nobody played any instruments, mind you, but I grew up with stories of my grandmother dancing around to Elvis Presley (this was at a time when parents weren’t supposed to like Elvis and even find him immoral and corrupting). I feel like there was some form of music playing in the house at every waking hour, whether it was mom playing the latest music of the day by The Eagles, The Bee Gees, ABBA (gag!), or dad was listening to a new batch of oldies 45s that he picked up at one of the record conventions, including Elvis, The Beatles, Buddy Holly, or the oddball "The Flying Saucer," by Bill Buchanan and Dickie Goodman, which was story of alien invasion told using song lyrics. I would dance around the living room as a little kid in my own, weird way, just soaking up all of the music around me.


The stereo was kept in the living room, the main room of the house, which points to the importance of music to us. My brother and I shared two rooms, a bedroom and a playroom, and in the latter was a record player with a small collection of records, mostly children’s records. I say mostly because one of those records, it would turn out, was a grown-up record, The Hums of the Lovin’ Spoonful. I only remember ever playing one song off of this album, and while it might be way too overplayed to this day, especially on oldies stations, I still love “Summer in the City” and it still transports me back to those earliest days in the gold-carpeted, yellow and white checked walls, and that black, plastic record player. I think it was a GE Wildcat, thanks to Google, and I recall seeing the GE logo on the speakers, but then I also remember the Berenstain Bears being spelled with an “EI” instead of the “AI”, so don’t take my word for it.


Before I knew it, I would end up with my own music and that would start me down a road that I would never veer away from. I would find myself on a quest for more music. It's a journey that lasted...well, frankly, as I write this in my forty-second year of life, I am still on that journey. It all started with a crate that was, to me, more than a crate. It was a symbol of this journey and, while the crate sits idle, the journey continues...

Back To Writing

A postcard and bookmarks
James Stafford

I haven't written a whole lot for quite a while. I'm going to say that it was probably a much needed break, or something, to help me get my thoughts in order. Or it's a lot more complicated and I have an overabundance of ideas flowing through my head and would love to get them all out, except that some of these ideas I'm just slightly fearful of.

The idea that I have is a satirical look at a serious topic that some people might take the totally wrong way or read something into it that isn't there. That's not what I'm frightened of. It's very topical to the current time and very much "in the headlines," and I don't want to put my energy into something that I read about too regularly. No, I think it's time to get back to basics and continue a project I started more than two years ago and has since disappeared from the web.

My blog was on Squarespace for many years and I loved it. Unfortunately, an unlimited account was a bit pricey for my lack of readers (and later, listeners). So, about two weeks before it was set to renew, I downloaded my database and decided to start sort of anew on Blogger, which was free (and hosted my podcasts on Archive.org). Everything has been just fine, except that the project I mentioned above is no longer available for my adoring fans to read.

That project was/is The Crate Gods, which is a memoir of sorts, inspired by James Stafford over at Why It Matters, a musical memoir and more. I'm sure I mention this in the first chapter, but it never hurts to repeat it, after all, words are free. I started writing it and got seven chapters in and, for some reason or another, just stopped. I might have gotten sidetracked with another project, or I just lost interest in writing it at the time. Well, I decided that it's time to pick up where I left off. However, I need a little time to write it, so I am going to post the first seven chapters over the same number of weeks. Hopefully nothing will distract me this time. I will start reposting on Monday and I am looking forward to continuing this long overdue project.

SGMR Classic: Worst. Idea. Ever

I saw something today that really made me think.  While driving to work this morning, I saw a guy driving and, at the same time, shaving with a cordless electric shaver.  I'm pretty sure that the inventor of the cordless electric shaver was not thinking of this as a possible use and I don't really know why we need such an invention.  I will admit that I do own one of these devices.  I got it as a Christmas gift one year and I do like it, but I do use it while plugged in.

1.  Well, I have to travel overseas and I don't have a 220AC to 110AC adapter.  Nope.  If you travel overseas you will either have a few days to prepare and be able to get an adapter or you will already have one.

2.  I travel for a living for meetings and have to look my best.  Sorry.  If you simply fly in to an airport, the bathrooms have outlets for just such and emergency.  If you stay at a hotel, I have yet to find one that doesn't have outlets in the bathroom.

3.  I go camping and don't take a generator with me.  If you're camping in a tent or a cabin Grizzly Adams style then you should play the part.  You're suppose to be roughing it, either grow a beard or use a straight blade.

4.  I often run late for work and I find myself having to shave while driving.  If you find yourself having to shave while driving then you should really wake up earlier.

5.  If the power goes out I still want to be able to shave.  If the power goes out long enough for you to need a shave then you are probably going to be more pissed off about the food spoiling in your refrigerator.

I just can't seem to find a practical reason for the cordless electric shaver.  It sounds like it might be a good idea, but then again, there are a lot of things that sound like good ideas at the time.  OK, I'm stepping off of my soap box right now.  I have more questions during the week.

The Greatest Lie Of Human Resources

Employment has evaded me. I had two interviews and they both went well, so I thought. I was even the leading candidate for one of those jobs, but in the end, I was tossed aside like yesterday's non-recyclable trash. At least I got a phone call to tell me that I wouldn't be working; the other one just sent me email with the great HR lie of all time:

Our team has had a chance to discuss your qualifications, and unfortunately, we have decided to pursue other candidates. We will keep your resume on file for six months and if another position arises...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

To prove I'm fine, here's cats in a basket.

LIES!!!! They will keep my resume on file until the janitorial staff comes around and empties the trash cans. If it is kept, it's kept in an old, rusty file cabinet, in a folder marked with the month and the year. At the end of each month, a temp worker who is paid a couple dollars above minimum wage is instructed to pull the files from six months earlier and recycle them. At least my resume will be going to make one of those coffee cup trays so that it might see the inside of a conference room within the company.

It's possible that my resume and application sit on a server within the company somewhere. Maybe when they're desperate to drum up business, they'll pull the addresses from those applications and add them to their mailing lists. Then, when I get email, or regular mail, from the company I can momentarily have my faith in humanity restored before it's crushed under the wait of a catalog. No, I don't want to buy your products because I'm still not working and can't afford anything, cold-hearted bastards.

Anyway, here I sit, not bitter at all. Not seething with fury and waiting for the first telemarketer to call so I can unleash my wrath. No, I'm calm and cool and collected. I eagerly await the next prospective employer to email me to tell me that my skills are impressive, and I exactly what they are looking for, but for reasons, they have to choose someone else. No, I'm fine, really.