Mr. Parker, Eternal Vigilance and Our Hard-Earned Money

Remember when we were kids and there were only a few things we had to watch out for? Things like strangers in vans, strangers with candy and strangers that offered you candy to get in their van? Remember when as long as there was an adult you knew and trusted that could see you from wherever they were sitting, things were safe?

I mean, we had to watch out for Halloween candy that had razor blades in it, open bottles of Tylenol and Richard Ramirez that one summer, but all in all, when I look back to those golden years of yesterday, I always felt pretty safe.

Fast forward to today, and I feel like they are coming at us from every angle! You’re able-bodied, you have a job, a little bit of money put away, a decent car and a decent place to live and now, all of the sudden, you are prime target #1 for every sleazeball out there!

We have to watch out when we get money from an ATM because they’ll sneak up on us, or maybe they’ve already placed a card reader over the ATM card slot and are waiting for us to simply take out 20 bucks so they can gank us for all we’ve got! We have to watch out for that same card reader scam at the gas pump, too. I know 99.99% of the people who handle your credit card are trustworthy, but you still do hear about people getting card numbers lifted at retailers these days. It also seems like you stand a much better chance of not getting ripped off by the actual human holding your credit card than you do once the merchant lifts all your personal information off of that card and then stores it in their payment system. Target ring a bell for anyone out there? I didn’t get any fraudulent charges on the card I used that month at Target, but I did get a nice, brand new shiny credit card and new account number from Chase just in case.

And speaking of scams, just this past Saturday morning, I got a phone call I have to tell you about. There I was, minding my own business, about to take a live check to the bank when the phone rang. Yes, folks, an actual live check, if you can imagine! I was going to have to actually walk inside the bank! Can’t remember the last time I had to do that! Yes, those ATM machines sure are scary, but hey, much less scary than the line in the bank or one of those many colorful Orange County bank robbers that get the cool names like the Hawaiian Shirt Bandit, Cool Grandpa Bandit, and Lady In A Crazy Wig Bandit. Yeah, I made those ones up, but you know what I am talking about.

But, anyway, back to my story – back to the phone call. I am about to take this live check to the bank and my cell phone rings. It’s a 202 area code phone number with a caller ID listed in Washington, D.C. My first thought is, what the hell do they want? Haven’t I sent them enough money already this year? I don’t answer the call, but the caller leaves an automated message with the phone number, asking for a return call. Normally, I just ignore these calls, but this is the third call from that number in three days so I figure I better call them back and tell them I am not interested in their magazine subscription, low-low financing on a new automobile or whatever thing it is that they are peddling that I don’t want, that way, at the very least, they’ll stop calling me.

So, I call the number, and that is when it gets interesting. A man that sounds to be about my age or so with a very thick Indian accent answers my call and proceeds to tell me that I have reached the “IRS” and that they have been trying to reach me.

I laugh as I think to myself that the United States Internal Revenue Service sure as hell has never had a hard time reaching me before! They always seem to find my paycheck and me just fine every couple weeks. The man on the other end says that he wants to just confirm that he is speaking to the right person, so I figure, I am game...let’s see what they know about me.

Turns out to be pretty scary – He’s spot on with my first and last name, middle initial, full address, and obviously, my phone number. Granted, this information is available all over the Internet from just about any form I have filled out in the past 10 years, but nonetheless, a little annoying that they have all this info ready and at-hand when they are on the phone with me.

I proceed to tell the man on the phone that I am not sure why they are calling me because I am all paid up. He then apologizes, but doesn’t understand what I mean. I proceed to remind him that he works at the IRS and ask him if he understands what they do there. I explain that the take money from me every time I get paid and then another lump sum once a year, but right now, I am all paid up!

He them proceeds to tell me they have sent me multiple unanswered letters because, apparently, I owe so much in back taxes that I am now subject to a lawsuit being filed against me by the government. Now, keep in mind, this entire time, I am being very patient while this man struggles to get this entire story out in English, tripping up more than a few times.

I proceed to explain to him that since they have my correct address, the letters should have reached me no problem and that I am starting to wonder if he is really calling from the IRS. He then proceeds to tell me that he wants me to write down his name, his badge number, my case number and the toll free number to the IRS so that I always have it handy throughout what is most likely going to be a long and drug-out investigation by the IRS to determine exactly how much money I owe them.

I proceed to listen as “Mr. Parker” – and I confirmed that was the last name he was giving me because believe me, he had a really hard time saying it – gave me his badge number, my case number and the toll free number to the IRS. I looked up the number and it is, in fact, the main information line for our friends over at Internal Revenue.

I then proceeded to explain to Mr. Parker that I still didn’t believe he was who he said he was and that I really did not think he worked at the IRS. Once flustered, he became even harder to understand and I wasn’t really sure what it was he was saying by the time I wished him a good day and hung up the phone.

I reported the number – (202) 684-6436, so you all can keep an eye out for it – to the Do Not Call Registry, which naturally has my phone number as a happy registrant, but as you can imagine, I have very little confidence anything will be done by the folks who actually work in Washington, D.C. to stop these guys from making these calls.

Naturally, a Google search of the phone number yields a number of scam registry sites and complaints and funny stories from people who messed with the person on the phone far worse than I did, but I always think back to all of those episodes of American Greed and all of our elderly Americans who continue to fall victim to scams just like these and it makes me sad that we live in a world today where things like this have really become so common place.

It’s bad enough that I have the real IRS trying so hard to milk me dry, but having to deal with Mr. Parker and his obviously organized scammer friends on one of the two days a week when I am actually trying to relax is really annoying. Makes you wonder how it is that we got here. How is it that I have to now watch out for people who will even go as far as to steal a house – go ahead, look it up – they file paperwork to steal the title to your house from the County Clerk’s office – when all I used to have to do was simply stay where an adult I knew could see me and all would be fine?

Don’t get me wrong, folks, we live in an amazing time, and I know that a lot of us live some really great lives – definitely not trying to be a Debbie Downer, but just remember, as the saying goes, the price of freedom is eternal vigilance, and eternal vigilance is the only thing that will keep me and you from losing our hard-earned money to all the Mr. Parker’s out there.

UPDATE: Looks like this scam is large enough,we're actually doing something about it. 

Why California Should Continue To Try Children As Adults For Murder

California law says suspects 14 and older can be charged and tried as adults. About 20 percent of murders in the state are committed by people between the ages of 11 and 17.

Think about that for a second...think back to what you were doing when you were 11 years old. Try to find the situation that you were in at 11 years old that would have led you to commit murder.

I was in fifth grade at Webber Elementary in Westminster. I was playing Junior All-American Football and Little League Baseball. I was in karate, and playing on a basketball team at the Westminster Boys & Girls Club. I spent a lot of time at home with my family, hanging out with my friends from the neighborhood, and venturing off further than our parents wanted us to go, up to the liquor store our parents said was too far away, to play video games and buy more candy than we probably should have.

To think that there is a good percentage of kids out there who are committing murder at or around that same age is just astounding to me.

Before you counter my statement with my South Orange County livin' lifestyle, I'll counter back that I grew up in the poorest neighborhood in Westminster, an area heavily worked by a well-known street gang at the time, yet still, here I sit today, never having murdered anyone.

I was able to get to 18 without killing. Is it wrong of us not to expect that of all young people in California? I don't think it is an unrealistic goal. Again, I defer to my theory that if I've done it, anyone can do it.

With a number like 20 percent of murders being committed by people who are not yet adults, what choice do we have other than to try these kids as adults? 

As juveniles, they will go into the system, be released when they are 18, essentially having served very little time for the murder that they have committed.

Our murder rates are bad enough as they are...can you imagine if on top of that, these kids knew that even if they murdered someone, they got a free pass on their 18th birthday? While I will grant that there may be certain special circumstances in all mandatory sentence laws that should be overturned by a judge and taken on a case by case basis, making a declaration as a society that if you commit a murder at 14, you could be thrown in jail for the rest of your life, sends a powerful message.

Let me also counter your argument in advance that at that age, you do not really have an understanding of the law and the consequences of your actions. Again, think back to when you were that age and tell me that you didn't know right from wrong, that you didn't know that you shouldn't kill other people, and that you didn't have an understanding that you would go to jail for doing so.

Two Stories, One Connection

Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago. Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.

Capone had a lawyer nicknamed 'Easy Eddie.' He was Capone's lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.

To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but also, Eddie got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.

Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him.

Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was.

Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good example.

One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.

He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al 'Scarface' Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity.

To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great. So, he testified.

Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street

But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay. Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.

The poem read:
'The clock of life is wound but once,
and no man has the power
to tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own.
Live, love, toil with a will.
Place no faith in time.
For the clock may soon be still.'



World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare.

He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.

One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission.

After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.

He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.

His flight leader told him to return to the carrier.

Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.

As he was returning to the carrier, he saw something that turned his blood cold: a squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding its way toward the American fleet.

The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless.

He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet.

Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.

There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet.

Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes.

Wing-mounted 50 caliber guns blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another.

Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent.

Undaunted, he continued the assault.

He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly.

Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.

Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.

Upon arrival, he reported in and related the events surrounding his return.

The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale.

It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.

He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft.

This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of WWII, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.

A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29.

His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.



So, how are these two stories related, other than their obvious Chicago connection? Butch O'Hare was the son of Edward O'Hare, who was also known as 'Easy Eddie'.