Phishing for Trust

"Do you trust me?" Aladdin reaches his hand toward the beautiful princess Jasmine, inviting her to take a leap of faith. A leap that could quite possibly bring her privileged life to an end but something about him causes her to put her hand in his and answer "Yes." Their lives intertwine, they fall in love, and all is well because she trusted a boy from the streets.

Hmmm. What was it about him that told her in an instant he was someone to trust? Well, we all know the story needed the line to use as a foreshadow, so she could realize who he really was in the end. But, outside of fairy tales and Disney movies can strangers really be trusted? Let me share two stories with you.

I have been selling clothes that I got as retail returns and overstocked items on ebay. There is a wide variety of clothing in the boxes I've received and all are brand new with the tags still on them. I thought this would be a great little business to bring in another stream of income- we have yet to see if it will pay off.

Anyway, one of the items I got was a new Kenneth Cole tuxedo, retailing for $499. I was excited to sell this piece, knowing it would bring me half of what I spent on the whole lot- so I listed on ebay, KSL, and Craigslist. Selling for $175, I got an email from a KSL buyer the day after I listed it. I was so excited!



They were interested in it and asked if it was still available. I replied with an emphatic, YES! The next email said they wanted it, but they would need to pay through paypal because they lived out of the state. I said OK, I gave him my paypal email address and said I would ship it as soon as the payment went in. I then received 3 emails from paypal. The first said I received a payment from the buyer for $175 but in order to protect their clients from fraudulent activity, they needed to hold the payment until they received a tracking number of the sent item. The next email notified me of a "Payment Pending" and the last email said the same thing, except it had a bunch of aaaaaaaaaaaaaa before every line. There were lots of places I could click to go to paypal and put in my password and account info., I didn't though.

I thought it seemed a little fishy, but I was excited to sell the tux, and the buyer emailed me again asking for the tracking number. I went to the UPS store and shipped the box. When I got home, I went back to my email to send the tracking number, and had a funny feeling about it. So, I logged into my paypal account first, checking to see if the payment was there, and there was nothing. I called paypal and they informed me that this buyer was attempting a "phishing scam" on me. Wikepedia defines a Phishing scam as this:

In the field of computer security, phishing is the criminally fraudulent process of attempting to acquire sensitive information such as usernames, passwords and credit card details by masquerading as a trustworthy entity in an electronic communication. Communications purporting to be from popular social web sites, auction sites, online payment processors or IT administrators are commonly used to lure the unsuspecting public. Phishing is typically carried out by e-mail or instant messaging,[1] and it often directs users to enter details at a fake website whose look and feel are almost identical to the legitimate one. Even when using server authentication, it may require tremendous skill to detect that the website is fake. Phishing is an example of social engineering techniques used to fool users,[2] and exploits the poor usability of current web security technologies.[3] Attempts to deal with the growing number of reported phishing incidents include legislation, user training, public awareness, and technical security measures.

I called the UPS store, they still had my package there and refunded my money. I forwarded all the emails from the buyer to paypal and hotmail, changed my paypal password and cancelled my credit card for good measure. I felt emotionally violated.

It was such a switch from the morning when I was expecting an extra $175 to come into my account to having such a close call to my entire account being wiped out, and a great tuxedo disappear! I got another email from the buyer today asking where the tracking number is. I responded: "I realized you are doing a phishing scam so you will not get my product. I hope you stop and get caught." He hasn't emailed back.

I am a gullible person, wanting to trust everyone I meet. If I were Jasmine today and a strange boy asked, "Do you trust me?" with his hand outstretched wanting me to jump to my possible death, I would probably punch him in the face and run the other direction.

At the same time, I do believe there are trustworthy people in this world. Even strangers.

For example, the other day, Sonny had a young couple with an 8 month old baby come to the lot and look at a BMW. Their baby had fallen asleep in their car and wanting not to move her, Sonny offered to stand and watch the baby while they test drove the BMW. They agreed. The couple took off, leaving a stranger to watch their sleeping baby in their car.

That seems crazy to me! This couple trusted a person that works in probably the most famous occupation for dishonesty and didn't think twice about leaving their baby in his care. I have noticed that people do this a lot with Sonny. There is an "air" about him that shows people he is trustworthy. If there was a way to teach others how to create this "air" we could probably make a lot of money, but I think it is just a God given talent. One that is only visible when people truly are honest and have integrity.

So, in finishing this discussion I guess I will move forward with a stronger caution toward others, but I will also do my best to look for the "trust" in those I meet. I also hope that my experiences help others to avoid the evil "wizards" in this world and find at least a few honest boys that work hard to save their princesses.

What's in your backpack?

It is funny to re-read my blogs. I realize that I write a lot about recognizing the good things in our life and getting through our trials. I suppose it is because that is what the life of a car salesman's wife is wrapped up in right now. I expect it is similar to lives of most wives out there, so I hope that my writings aren't just working as a therapy for me, but help out some of you too.

If you are a mother, I think you'd agree that your children teach you a lot about life. This week Asher taught me yet another lesson about smiling and embracing hardships that come our way.

"Can I have a backpack?" Asher had been asking that question since bedtime the night before. I had reminded him that we would need to get ready early the next day because we were going to his cardiologist appointment.

Since birth,Dr. Susan Etheridge has been his doctor. She has a fun spirit that is displayed in her tightly curled red hair and vintage Anthropologie dresses. As an infant, she got to see him weekly- holding his hand in hers, warming her stethoscope with her breath before listening to the quick rhythm of his heart. As a toddler she would often join him on the floor while he played with toys during his monthly appointments. Now, she sees him quarterly, never forgetting his face and remembering his love of super-heroes.

"Of course you can have a backpack!" Dr. Etheridge exclaimed, trying to match Asher's enthusiasm. Leaning closer to me she whispered, "he is the only kid I know that likes wearing these."

She glanced over at the small holter monitor sitting on the table beside her. The little package, about the size of a portable game system, had three gray cables coming out of it. Each cable had a small colored piece on the end; red, yellow, and brown. They matched the colored stickers strategically placed on Asher's chest. The colored ends snapped on to the stickers and with a touch of a button, Asher's heart rhythm would be recorded. The portable device easily clips on your belt loop, but for children, they put it in a blue purse looking pocket that ties around you. Most kids wear it on their front, but Asher has always preferred it on his back. Every time he has an appointment, he gets to wear the backpack for 24 hours. This records his heart, then gets sent back to the doctor for analysis.

A wide smile spread across Asher's face as the holter monitor was attached to him and instruction given to wear it for 24 hours.



Asher thinks of his "backpack" as something special. He often plays that it has great powers, making him more super than normal. He also does an excellent job of forgetting it even exists. He sleeps with it on, plays with it on, eats with it on, and never seems to mind. His "backpack" is a literal part of the obstacles he faces in his life and he treats it as a prize. His obstacle makes him smile-

Often people say things like, "I know you're carrying a heavy load." or "You've got a lot on your shoulders." I always picture a person hiking up a big hill with an enormous camping pack strapped to them. Usually they are bent over, struggling under the weight of their gear, slowly moving forward with every step. Yes,we all have our own "backpacks" full of different hardships. We get worn down by them. They make us fall, and sometimes we just don't want to get up. But how great would it be if we looked at our "backpacks" with a smile on our face. What if we even asked for them?

Wearing a monitor on your back with cables in your way is not a fun thing to do. It is annoying, frustrating, and uncomfortable, much like the burdens we carry in our proverbial backpacks. But I believe our backpacks can actually be good for us. In fact, Asher's has been a part of saving his life.

So once again, I write about being happy. I write to encourage us all to find powers from our "backpacks" that will make us stronger in life.

Wake up call

Last Tuesday morning my friend Maren was sitting in a rocking chair around 1:50 AM, trying to keep her eyes open while rocking her baby girl back to sleep. All the sudden, the room started to shake. She heard popping noises in the windows and a loud whooshing sound outside. It only lasted a few seconds. Maren had experienced a low magnitude earth quake that occurred only a few miles from our office.

After her call the next morning, I thought about the need to better prepare my family in the event of a disaster. I took down the pictures over my son's crib, talked to the older boys about "what to do, just in case" and glanced at the outdated 72 hour kits I have tucked away in the basement. Then I went on with my day, worrying about the chores to finish, appointments to make and money to earn.

A stronger reminder jolted me back into "preparedness" mode just one week later. On Tuesday, the people of Haiti fell victim to the most powerful earthquake to hit that area in 200 years. Devastation has overcome the country with millions of dollars of property damage and an ever increasing number of deaths. Life for those in Haiti has changed in an instant. I've been watching news reports, reading the newspaper, and checking the internet for updates. All reports giving me a wake up call, reminding me to count my blessings for the trials I have and to prepare the very best I can for the trials in the future.

So here is my plan today:
Dig out our 72 hour kits
Replace old food with new
Buy some more water bottles
Put together emergency kits for the office
AND
Remember how blessed I am to be a car salesman's wife in a down economy with children who make big messes and a husband that works long hours.

I pray that the families in Haiti will feel the support of others and that we will all take this disaster as a wake up call, putting the things that matter most in life as highest priority.

New Year Metaphors

A year ago, January 2009, I set one of the most challenging resolutions of my life. I resolved to run the Ogden marathon with my dear friend, Maren. Committing to this goal was a major decision that engulfed my life for sixteen weeks between January and May. Amazing experiences occurred during the intense training, helping me grow in all areas of health; physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

Our race took place the weekend before my 30th birthday. The course ran us through the gorgeous mountains in Ogden canyon, past Pine View Reservoir's shimmering waters, and into the downtown streets of the city of Ogden. 26.2 miles of running gave Maren and I ample time to talk about pretty much everything. Our topics ranged greatly between comments on the scenery, memories of our past, goals for our futures, and even links between actors and actresses while playing the "movie game" for at least an hour. One of the best discussions we had that day took place when we asked each other, "what metaphors of life can we make to running a marathon?" As we talked, we linked almost everything about training and running to the experiences of life.

Here are a few of the metaphors we came up with:

1. A technique we used to conquer hills was not to look at the top of the hill, but to watch our feet instead. When we did this, we were able to feel success by seeing ourselves literally put one foot in front of the other, making slow strides that eventually got us to the top. When we watched the top of the hill and constantly compared our position with how much farther we had to go to reach it, it was depressing and difficult. We compared this training experience to life by noting that when we are faced with seemingly never ending tasks (like Sonny finishing graduate school or mountains of laundry to fold) it is best to take it one step at a time, instead of constantly worrying about how much more you have to do to finish.

2. The Ogden marathon is mostly down hill, except for mile 15. As we neared this mile, we heard some veteran Ogden marathon runners talking about the challenge that lay ahead. They noted their past experience and told us how difficult this mile was. They warned us of its horror and shared stories of how painful it was for them in years past. Maren and I got to the hill, (a much smaller one than what we had anticipated) used our training techniques, and got to the top with hardly any pain. It seemed nothing like the other runners had described. It was almost easy.
This experience reminded us of the many influences in our lives that tell us "no". They say things like, "Why would you start that business? They never succeed." or "You're going to hate that class, the teacher is really annoying." Negative comments that get into your brain and create fear and doubt in yourself.

3. At mile 21 we came out of the canyon and found our family there, cheering us on. Our small boys held home-made signs, they took pictures, yelled our names, and filled our hearts with determination to finish. In life, we all need a support system. Nothing can beat family and friends that cheer us on through the ups and downs, and help get us through it all.




The final most important metaphor I want to share deals with having a positive mental attitude.

In reading books and training manuals to prepare for our race; the authors pointed out the importance of positive mental attitudes. They suggested holding our heads high, and smiling while running. They taught us to write our own mantras to repeat to ourselves while we ran. They told us to conquer the elements around us by saying to ourselves things like, "Oh, hello hill. I've been waiting for you, come run with me." According to these marathon running masters, the crucial factor to marathon success was a positive attitude.

I embraced this guidance and did my best to smile throughout the entire 4 hour and 53minute run. I talked positively to myself and feel that this was a key component to accomplishing the biggest New Year resolution of my life so far.

This becomes an easy comparison to life. Positive self talk, personal affirmations, smiling when times get tough, and welcoming challenges into our lives are all extremely important ways to live successfully.




As the new year begins, Sonny and I are setting more resolutions. None as grand as last year's marathon, but many that focus on the metaphors I learned from it. In fact, just this morning, despite recent news of GM discontinuing Saturn and Pontiac, and the automotive industry still on the rocks, Sonny optimistically said, "January is going to be an awesome month! We are going to sell a ton of cars."

To which I smiled, and said, "Of course we are."

What's That Noise?

With the year coming to a close, I thought it might be fun to keep in tradition of many television stations and news publications by offering you the top Hardman Car Company story of 2009.

In the car business we have the opportunity to meet all kinds of colorful people. Sonny and Eric often find themselves in situations unlike any other; pleasing customers, cleaning cars, fixing problems, and creating stories. This year the top story beat out stories of test drives turned to drug deals and Range Rover's driving through garage doors. It is a funny tale that teaches things are not always what they seem.

Uncle Jim is the youngest in Sonny's mom's family. A tall, stout man with a love of the Yankees and knowledge of hundreds of trivial facts. He and his wife, Aunt Debbie, visited Sonny at the dealership sometime last year. They wanted to trade in their Honda Odessy mini van. Their four children were all grown now and they had little need for the extra room. They looked for a nice four door sedan and with Sonny's help decided on a Nissan Maxima. Happy with the vehicle and excited about the price, Uncle Jim and Aunt Debbie drove home.

Early this year, Sonny got a phone call from his Uncle. Uncle Jim explained his recent frustration with his new vehicle. Apparently in the past week or so, it had started making an awful growling sound every time he turned to the right. The sound had been so troublesome, he took it to his mechanic who confirmed that there was most definitely something wrong. They drove in circles at a local parking lot for almost a half hour, hearing the grinding sound every time. The mechanic was sure there was something very wrong, no car could be healthy with such a horrific growl coming from it. Not knowing exactly what it could be, he scheduled an appointment for uncle Jim to bring in the car the following week. They would put it up on a lift and begin taking it apart in order to diagnose the problem.

A few days after the mechanic's visit, uncle Jim, aunt Debbie, their daughter Megan, and granddaughter were running errands around town. The noise was as horrific as ever, grinding and growling every right turn they made. As they drove, Megan recognized the sound as oddly familiar. Knowing she had heard something like it before she began looking around the back seat for its source. She succeeded when she spotted her nephew's toy fire engine stuck under the driver's chair. Every time the car turned to the right, it would shift just enough to transform the engine to a growling Godzilla toy. As the car turned back, pressure would be taken off the toy and turn off the growl. Sonny laughed along with the family and the mechanic when they all found that the source of the infamous growl was only a child's play toy.




I hope this new year brings all of us stories that we can laugh and learn from. Happy New Year!

The Greatest Gifts...

The days until Christmas are closing in and small magical moments of excitement are popping up with them. As presents under the tree grow, my children's faces glow brighter with anticipation of what is inside. At dinner last night Grayson asked, "Mom, have you noticed that the days seem to go by so fast during the rest of the year, but around Christmas they are moving in slow motion?"

A perspective quite opposite of my own adult view, where the days seem to move in fast forward during the holiday season. His comment helped me remember how I felt as a child though. I remember nightly counting the festively wrapped packages under our tree with my siblings. We would make piles for each of us and compare how many and what sizes we had. We would speculate and dream about what great item lay inside. One year, a Cabbage Patch doll was all I hoped for. When Santa delivered, I was ecstatic to find it, reading his enclosed adoption papers and quickly signing my name as the mother of the little boy doll.

As a teenager, one of the most exciting Christmas presents opened was not even my own. My older brother was given a large box Christmas morning. At our house, not only Santa delivered gifts but a whole collection of his associates did also. The gift tag read, To: Ryan From: George, Santa's mechanic who recently replaced the entire sleigh engine for increased speed and greater reliability. Knowing the gift had something to do with a car, Ryan unwrapped the large box to find a smaller wrapped box inside. The pattern continued until 5 boxes were unwrapped with the final small one containing a single key.

I think I screamed louder than he did as we ran out the door into the dark December morning in search of a new car. Nine children in matching pajamas filing down the sidewalk to find a new/used Ford Escort waiting for my brother. For me, this gift meant no more embarrassing rides to school in our old 15 passenger van and my self imposed personal humiliation in riding in it over.


On Monday night I was driving home from my Grandmother's 93rd Birthday/Christmas party and Sonny was still at work. He was helping a customer, giddy with excitement over their new car. Coming from Southern Utah, they arrived late- around 10:30 PM in order to beat the next day's snow storm. They had purchased a Jaguar from us that we had sold on ebay. The ending auction price was a phenomenal deal and the customer knew it. They could hardly wait to pick up their car! Signing papers with smiles on their faces all they could say was, "I can't believe how great this is!" So happy in fact, they drove off the lot on fumes, not wanting Sonny to put a cent of gas in it, feeling almost guilty about their low purchase price.



Now, as a parent, I anticipate my own presents very little. What I anticipate are the reactions of my children when they open theirs. I envision their excitement as they tear the paper from their gifts and find (hopefully) what they've been waiting for. The smiles on their faces are what make the gifts so grand.

I wonder how this Christmas excitement will evolve as I continue to grow older? I reflect on my Grandmother's reactions the other night. She was given many gifts, but the one that brought tears to her eyes were the people in her home helping her celebrate. At 93 she has no want for material things, it was the company of family that brought her most excellent gift.



Grandma Dora Curtis


With Christmas almost here, watch for that little spark that jumps in your chest with gift getting and giving excitement. Whether it be a toy doll, a new car, a smile on your children's faces or the company of others, I truly hope this season brings you one of your greatest gifts.

Snowy Service

"AHH, Grayson hit me!!" Asher yelled while holding his cold, pink nose with woolly mitten covered hands. Tears were falling. An apologetic older brother stood close by with a broken children's snow shovel that we've "borrowed" indefinitely from the neighbor.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I can't help it- the wind keeps grabbing the snow and making me do it." I glared at Gray, dropped my adult snow shovel, and crouched down to look at Asher's face.
"It looks okay, I bet you'll be just fine in a little bit." I told him while prying away his hands from the injured spot. "I know it hurts honey, but Grayson really didn't mean to do it."
Asher finally looked up at me and started crying harder. "Is it bleeding?!"
"No."
"Well yours is!"
I thought I felt something.

On Saturday morning there was a fresh layer of snow covering the yard, driveway and sidewalks. With Sonny already out the door and cleaning up the car lot, I knew it was up to me and the kids to get the snow moved from the walkways. Still dressed in pajamas, the boys were happy to go outside in the new winter wonderland. I handed each of them a toy shovel or rake, grabbed the big shovel myself and headed out the door.

I thought this would be a good opportunity for them to do some service. One of my goals for the month was to do extra service and to give my children service opportunites. Earlier that week we put some secret Santa baskets together for a few families that could use some extra help. The kids were pretty excited with gathering everything and wrapping the packages, but after we had to drive for almost an hour to hit all three houses, they were done with secret Santa. In fact the last one I did by myself. I snuck the presents onto the doorstep, rang the bell and narrowly escaped getting caught by sliding on my bum behind a tree. The kids sat in the car and watched "Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer". Cranky kids at the end of the night, didn't seem like a service experience success. Hopefully scooping snow would be better.

Grayson quickly started shoveling the front sidewalk, anxious to do the work, but without much training. He scooped the snow forward and then threw the shovel up in the air- making the newly scooped snow fly everywhere. I just let him enjoy himself and was glad he was out trying to help. Until, one of his scoops flew up into my face. It nailed me on my nose, causing me to yell out a short- GRAYSON!- and then place my tear streaked face in my hands. It hurt, but being strong, as all mothers must do when they actually want to scream and yell and pout just like a child, I told him "it's okay" and continued.

I didn't check my face until Asher said, "Well yours is!" A small gash opened the skin on my nose, and a few scratches by my eye and mouth finished off my want to share service with them. It was time to go inside. I was frustrated. My month's goal was not working out so well.

Sunday morning greeted us with even more snow. Inches falling down by the second, making my efforts of the previous day meaningless. We bundled up and jumped in the car (grateful for a 4wheel drive) to attend church and worry about the snow later. It was on our way home when I saw a group of six teenage boys, armed with snow shovels, that I felt a renewed effort to pursue my goal. With smiles on their faces, these boys chose to spend their Sunday afternoon scooping people's driveways. Braving the cold weather to serve others instead of taking naps and watching football games. As I watched them, I realized that in about 8 years, one of those boys could be my Grayson.

With tears in my eyes once again, I asked Grayson what service we should do today. He quickly responded, "I need to set the table for you mom, and I think I'll smile at a stranger."

"Sounds great." I gave him a kiss on the cheek as Sonny walked out the door. Bundled in snow gear, he was ready to join the senior class president and plow the neighborhood's driveways.