My mom (boomer) has been scammed twice, and it’s not been a simple issue of naivety or even stupidity…it’s been that, and a bit of greed, thinking more about what she’d get out of the deal, than how much sense the whole thing made, in each case. The underlying thing that attracted the scammers in each case, were her Facebook posts about going on multiple vacations and cruises.
The first one was the scam about an inheritance in probate, in Nigeria. She just had to send the money for the courts to get past probate, and then she’d be able to claim the inheritance left by her mysterious relative. Now, the maternal side of my family is Polish and Romanian, and the paternal side is British and German. I just don’t know who she may have thought bounced over to Nigeria and keeled over.
The second scam was the Exxon executive, who woke up in a hospital bed after a car accident, missing his wallet. The hospital was holding him captive in his hospital room until he could pay his bill, which somehow she could help with, by sending Amazon gift cards. The greed part comes in with him apparently having his phone, and being able to send her pics of his cars, properties, and bank statements. The stupid part comes in from about a thousand different directions and 4 dimensions…I mean, she even met his “daughter” in a video call, and adoption was discussed (the mother was apparently long dead). My mom spent a full career as a RN - in hospitals (in the US) - where they don’t incarcerate people until the bills are paid. Additionally, one would think that since any Tom, Dick, or Harry, missing their wallet, but with their phone, would be able to get ahold of someone - anyone, who might be able to contact a financial institution or work colleague, to secure proof of funds availability, replacement credit cards, or access to their finances. An executive with Exxon should definitely be able to show at least enough bling to pop themselves out of “hospital jail,” one would think. Finally, Amazon gift cards?
With my sister going through their correspondence, we found the name he gave my mom to be one letter off the correct spelling of the Exxon executive in the photo of himself that he sent her. The location of his grand home, on Google Earth anyway, appears to be the pool maintenance shed at a motel in TX.
Me: “Mom! It’s a scam.”
Mom: “No! I love him, and he loves me! I’m flying out to meet him, and help him out of the hospital. His daughter is picking me up from the airport.”
Me: “Wait. You said you were thinking about adopting his daughter when you got married - to this guy you’ve never met in person. The daughter is an adult?!”
Mom: “No. She’s 16 and has her driver’s license.”
Me: “So wait…she lives in his house with no adult supervision, since her father is hospital-bound. She has access to the car, but somehow can’t help with transportation, banking access, or the replacement credit card/replacement ID situation?”
Mom: “You’re so negative. You just don’t want to understand.”
Me: 🙄😒🫤
I had the same issues with the communications suite on USS BOISE (SSN764). I ran a division of 11 great guys who did their jobs well, got their work done, and did minimal damage during radio room WWE events. There were a few personalization items in the radio room. One was a dancing hula figurine, who really got it on during any flank bell. There was the bobble-head turtle, who looked like the Engineering Officer - the absolute worst Officer of the Deck, and a few pop-culture comics (mostly Robot-Chicken stuff) taped up inside of a few COTS equipment racks. There was nothing lewd, and nobody naked…you know, modern Navy.
Now, the radio room is a SCIF, so only the radiomen and a few officers ever go in there. You’d never find the Sunday afternoon girl scout tour going through Radio.
Anyway, the captain comes in one day, sees some of the personalization items, and says, “Hey, Chief. Some of this stuff is a little less than professional.” I chuckled and said, “Yes sir.”
A few weeks later, during a stop to Radio, the Captain sees the same stuff, and says, “Chief. I thought we discussed this stuff being unprofessional?” I responded, “Yes sir. We did.” He left.
A week later, I walked into Radio, and the Captain is talking to one of my guys, and when he sees me, he said, “Chief. Didn’t we agree that some of this stuff was unprofessional?” I said, “Yes sir.” He said, “You should probably consider getting rid of it.” I replied, “Yes sir.”
About a month passed, when the buzzer went off. One of the guys opened the door, and the Captain came in. As he made his way to the aft end of Radio, I saw the flash of anger on his face, before he said, “Chief! I thought you were going to take this stuff down?!” I said, “Well, sir, I considered it, but unprofessional as it might be, there’s nothing lewd, nothing morally offensive, it’s all in a place where nobody except the people who work here would ever see it. My guys work their asses off, do everything they’re supposed to do, and do it well. If a couple comic strip, a hula girl and a bobble head turtle keep them happy and working well, is that really too high of a cost to us? Plenty of WWII bombers and fighters had unprofessional things prominently painted on their hulls, and displayed proudly. Everything on this boat that doesn’t have to be painted a certain color, and is not wood-laminate is painted blue or orange, after Boise State. It looks gaudy, and as far as I know, neither Idaho, Boise, or Boise State University has ever some anything for this boat. My last boat did the same thing, but in purple and gold, with viking emblems everywhere - talk about offensive!” The Captain stared at me for a moment, and said, “Well, I don’t like it.” I said, “Yes sir.” He left.
A couple weeks later, I’m in the Chiefs Quarters, and one of my guys comes down and says, “Chief, the CO wants you.” I said, “OK. In his stateroom?” He said, “No. Radio.” Oh shit.
Up to Radio I went, where I found the Captain, “God damn-it, Chief! Everything is still here!” “Yes, sir.” We stared at each other for what must have been a full minute. He said, “Well, were you ever planning on removing it?” He looked past me, to one of my guys, and said, “Go get the COB.” The COB (Chief of the Boat) is the Command Master Chief. We just stared at one another, until by the grace of God, the phone rang, and I ended up on the phone, and a laptop for a few minutes. When the call ended, the COB was in the room. The Captain said, “COB, this is the stuff I was telling you about.”
We had a Mexican stand-off staring contest.
The COB finally said, “Well?” I said, “Well, if he had ordered me to get rid of it, I would have gotten rid of it.” The Captain asked, “You’re going to make me order you to get rid of it?!” I looked at the Captain, then the COB (I was standing between them). The Captain then walked out, and the COB followed him.
About 20 minutes later, I went back down to the Chiefs Quarters. The COB was reading a book. As soon as I walked in, he asked, “Did you get rid of that stuff?” I said, “No.” He asked, “Why are you keeping it, when you know the skipper doesn’t like it?” I said, “My division does its job really well, they don’t give me any trouble. There’s not much I can do to reward them for doing well, but if that little thing makes them happy for months inside this miserable fucking boat, then they should have it. If the skipper orders me to take it down, I will, and I suspect if it’s really that important to him, he’ll give the order. This turned into some stupid pissing contest a long time ago, but I won’t choose to lose. He’ll have to order me to make him the winner.”
The COB shook his head and laughed. None of it was mentioned again, and everything was still there when I transferred 2 years later.