I’m a moderator of a closed mailing list for officers of local alumni associations. Somehow I ended up angering this random crazy man via email who then threatened me. It ended up with the random crazy man calling me a jerk, telling me to watch my back, calling me an insulting little twit, and other fine things. The random crazy man is not just random, I’ve since found out that he was a past president of a prominent local alumni association.

I’ve forwarded the threatening email to the Portland Police Bureau.

All I did was post the following:

Subject: Does anyone know <innocent person> of the <alumni association>?
He is requesting to join <our mailing list>

His first reply, to the entire mailing list, was:

He’s the President of <alumni association>, jerk. Just say “Welcome, <innocent person>”.

The mailing list is for club officers of alumni clubs of Ivy League colleges (plus MIT and Stanford, et al) so I didn’t expect this kind of response. All we ever post are book signings, singing performances, lectures, etc. that local alumni associations are hosting. It’s really to let other clubs know about events. So my reply was:

Well, I’ve added <innocent person>, and removed <rude person>@<email place>.com.
Thanks for the feedback.

<rude person>@<email place>.com is the email for <rude person>. I didn’t know <rude person>’s real name until after the whole email exchange.

He then sent me the threatening email:

arrogant functionary. we’ll meet some time. watch your back.

Of course, receiving such an email made me defensive (and not too wise) and I replied:

Nice threat. I’d report this to the police but I figure you’re a coward.

I reconsidered and forwarded his threatening email to the Portland Police Bureau, as well as his ISP.

His final reply was:

Couldn’t get into med school….can’t get a good job….time to get your life together young man.
Don’t ever send out an email asking a question like ‘Who is <innocent person>….he wants to get onto the list I
manage….. you insulting little twit. Respect your elders. You might get somewhere in life.

He emphasizes the point I don’t understand. I am the moderator of this email list. I have no idea of the affiliation of anybody wanting to join the group unless, of course, they’re affiliated with MIT (I am an alumnus, after all). I mistakenly thought I was the only moderator (I am co-moderator) and so the only way I could find out about the person joining (<innocent person>, who did nothing wrong in this entire exchange) was to ask the mailing list. How did I set this guy off?

I guess, like my friend Greg says, I’m a shit magnet.

Addendum:

The police told me that threats, verbal or written, are free speech. I kind of think that means they don’t want to do the paperwork, but whatever.

My friend Ben Shelton passed away last week at the age of 31. A wake is scheduled this weekend.

Everything else is lame in comparison. In any case, I got home in time to realize it was time to pass the baton in the “make your little sister happy relay” again and I had to take the package I got from REI over to the Slabs for delivery to Paso Robles, CA. It would be easier if they’d just move the heck up here, but Portland isn’t exactly paradise, either.

Last Friday when I went back to work at 8:30PM or so, I decided to clear out all the Diet Coke bottles I’d accumulated.They completely filled the small trunk of my Honda, and so I got rid of them while I was at the Slabs, since they’re near a Safeway. I was in line with some folks who looked like their entire income was from recycling bottles. (For those from other planets, Oregonians pay a $0.05 deposit on every bottle, and were the first state to do that. Lately you have to get the money back by shoving the cans or bottles into a smelly machine that counts and crushes them, and for your trouble you get a slip of paper that you can take into the store to exchange for money.) In any case, I had $4.85 worth of bottles, or ninety-seven bottles to return.

From time to time I get calls to participate in surveys. They hold out the carrot, telling me it’ll just be a couple of hours and they’ll pay some amount of money that is non-zero. But then they ask questions to see what sort of “bin” I fall into. How much to I make, what kind of job do I have, etc. Whatever it is, I tell them the truth and I never seem to make it past those questions. Today they were asking questions about animation, and they didn’t like that I was 40-years-old and living with my parents. WHO ELSE WATCHES ANIMATION? Hell, the only other thing that would match those conditions better would be something regarding Star Trek.

OK, so I FILLED UP MY iPod mini! I just got the latest Daft Punk (which is just as repetitive as you’d imagine) and I couldn’t fit the whole album onto my iPod without deleting other stuff. I only have music on here that I can listen to on “shuffle.” I can’t pick things to delete off of here. I’m sure other people would hate what I have, but I find it odd that I have four gigs of songs I want to hear.

Oh, and this is all going up early because I’ve got the punes. I’ve been watching too many medical programs, like “House” and I’m thinking I have some sort of weird organ failure. Good thing I’ve found that everyone around me has the same symptoms.

So last night I adjusted the clocks and went to sleep early because I had a headache. This morning I got up, ate breakfast, took a nap until lunch, and then took a nap until dinner. Sounds like I have a cold or something. I never did take my temperature but that’s sure what it seemed like.

I think I had a disturbing dream about an ex-girlfriend, but there aren’t to many of them so I can’t be sure if it wasn’t about someone else. Like a supermodel or something. I can’t remember.

At least I hope not. Had to go back to work to try to fix something (that I must admit is not fixed). Got to pay $1.90 for the privilege since it’s Friday night and all the free parking was being used.

I completely missed the 30th “birthday” of Northwest Bicycles, but I haven’t been on a bike for years. I rode down to the new REI in the Pearl District because I got a free gift for my trouble, but the bikes are used to collect dust and as coatracks. I only go into Northwest Bicycles to talk to the guys who own it. I’ve been going in there for years. Not quite 30 years, but at least 25 years.

I also made it to the gym. I noticed that the woman who reminds me of my ex has bigger arms than I do. And they’re muscular. Woo.