HEY COACH! OR TENNIS ANYONE?

I am not what you might label an athlete.  While I was in High School, I did twirl, two batons, thank you, as a Majorette/twirler with the Marching Band.  I never dropped the batons during a game or a parade, could spin and flip like Lyndhurst's first Golden Girl(she twirled with fire).  I danced from the age of three until, let's see...yesterday.  I power walk, well actually, that's through the Mall, or down Fifth Avenue during "hot" sales en route to the Elizabeth Arden Salon.  I can make any credit card smoke! It's all in the wrist.  I learned to play tennis.  I had gorgeous outfits, coordinating sneakers.  I looked great and never broke a sweat.  I played with my best friend Gail and she still is my friend (what does that tell you?).  My Dad (undefeated in Wayne NJ even at 86 years old) would practice with me.  He wasn't overly impressed with my performance, or my non-performance, at all!  When we would play doubles, he told me to stay out of the way because I made him look bad.  On our honeymoon, Steve and I would play.  I was more of a poser, in Aruba, rather than a player.  I'm sure you figured out that he just might have had a slight edge on me...didn't everyone?  Take a close look at the episode of "Sex and the City" where Nathan Lane made an appearance.  I played a party snob well and in another scene, I was on the tennis court in an amazing outfit!

Time passed.

I signed my Grandchildren up for tennis lessons.  On the way to the tennis court, we would talk to Grandpa (my Dad) on the phone for pointers.  Tanner, then four, liked the concept of tennis and the club tennis parties.  Tess, then six, with a fantastically high ponytail and the ability of her grandmother (ah, me) was never sure if she was on the court or not.  She was all about the parties as well.  Todd, at seven, was good.  I mean that boy could hit the ball in bounds with accuracy that could make Bad Boy McEnroe register for Tennis Camp!  One day, after a lesson, the Pro distributed forms for an accelerated tennis team for Todd's age.  Bouncing with every word, Todd told me that he wanted to sign up immediately!  He wanted to be on the team!  Faster than Annie Oakley could draw, I whipped out my pen, signed on all of the dotted and undotted lines and exclaimed, "Oh Todd!  That's fantastic!  We'll call Grandpa on our way home!  Mommy will be proud", and so the party line went as we sang all of the way home.

And then...

"Okay, boys and girls, let's get into our teams."  Day one of tennis practice.  The children were divided into appropriate age groups for competition, etc.  Todd's four man team, bouncing like the tennis balls that they were supposed to hit later, waited for organization to take shape.  The structure was that the Pros oversaw the teams coached by two Dads/parents (to sound politically correct, but I was there)  DADS each. A handsome, thirty-something man, Orlando, was Todd's coach.  No one else volunteered.  No Coaches = No Team.  That is a perpetual formula, you know.  Dave, the Pro and Orlando reassured the little team, "Don't worry, someone will volunteer."  Todd bounced over to the two men, screeching gleefully, "I have a coach!  She's been playing since she was a little girl!  Meme (pronounced may-may) will coach!  See?  She's right there!"  The little finger, much like Moses' staff, parted the Red Sea of tennis enthusiasts and landed on me!  My father and Gail would have choked with that recommendation!  Anyway, I very lamely (in Anne Klien shoes and Dana Buchman threads) stepped, rather crept up to the men and the pack of mighty-mights.  "Uh, well, I don't want to step on toes.  If you are desperate, I mean really desperate, I would gladly help out?"  Dave said, "That's great, Laura!  I don't believe we've ever had a grandmother coach our players!  That is so great of you to step right up!  Thank you!"  Hm...step up?  I more or less crawled.  Orlando exclaimed, "Ah, Laura is it?  It'll be an honor to work with you!" his daughter Christina and Todd did a little victory dance, the children cheered!  There are grandmothers who wearing sweats and sneakers (please, I am not criticizing) who were at home making meatloaf.  There I was, standing at Quail (sister club to Kettering Tennis Club)wondering "What happened here?"  The children were told to give information to a secretary while the coaches had a meeting.  The last "meeting" which I attended was at the Ballet Guild (planning a fund raiser) when Tess was a mouse in "The Nutcracker".  I'm more the tea and scone type of meeting attendee.  I was now ushered to tables with the "next stop - Wimbledon crowd".  Ah-ha.

On the ride home, Todd was beside himself!  "Meme!  This is the best day ever!  You're going to coach our team!"  This from a child who electively listens to what I tell him to do.  Wait 'till I tell everybody!"  Yeah, Todd, you do that.  My first order of business, after assisting friends and family off their respective floors triggered by laughing fits, was wardrobe.  I found the most gorgeous outfits and bought a racquet (white) to go with everything.  Face it, I hadn't played in ____years!  My racquet was a little dated. 

Practice sessions began on a regular basis. We drilled the children with basics, ran a little, chased balls a lot.  Orlando and I had a system, I think.  The children were hitting, they were accurate, some powerful.  Some, not so much.  I took the shy little girls and managed to level their swings (Oh!  Listen to me!  I sound so tennis-ish!)  I even talked them into keeping their eyes on the ball, timing, bounce swing, du, try to aim for my thigh to bust cellulite, you have to serve like you mean it, we don't have waiters on when the children did well, pep talks and positive "wows, good ones and yikes," the matches were to begin.  There were twenty-eight teams, give or take.  During the "practice" weeks, I took adult "refresher" lessons.  Dave was such a gentleman.  He never commented on this non-pro's performance.  Well, actually, not much of a performance, but I moved around a lot.  He thought that if personality  could win trophies (not Miss Congeniality...Tennis), I'd need a display case.

Orlando was factual, strong, patient, god at this.  I was nice, encouraging, funny.  My comments were a little quirky, but they kept the stress level down while we blitzed the court!  At the end of the season, there was a party and free play.  A hush fell over the assembly when awards were to be given when our placements were announced.  Todd was edgy, Orlando and I were hoping for a decent showing.  We emphasized that they did their best.  Orlando and I, it was announced, coached the FOURTH PLACE team!  Our little crew burst with screams of pride!  The parents congratulated their treasures and us!  One woman asked if I coach privately...it was a nice touch, she said , to have a grandmother on the courts with the little ones!  Dave looked at me and winked.  I declined.  Between you and me,  I probably could get you to Wimbledon, but I still can't play worth a _____!

On the way home, we called my Dad, I called Gail. Todd said that he was wrong before, "Meme!  TODAY is the best day ever!  We did it!  You're the best tennis player ever!"  I sighed, "Well Todd, YOU played tennis and YOU helped the team!"  That little finger wiggled at me:  "Meme, okay, then you're the best tennis coach ever!"

WORK AT HOME OR BRING MONEY AND LOTS OF IT!

I have been investigating "work at home" claims, websites and the like.  The snake oil salesmen attempt to be slick, so sincere and so eager to share their secrets and want to see you succeed!  No risk involved and blah, blah, blah.  I love the "absolutely free" claims with the catch at the end of a video presentation of an absolutely new and free (honestly, ask my neighbors) program, for a mere one time only fee of $99, $299, $1099 (unless you sign up five seconds ago, then, there is a 75% discount because we want you to succeed!)  SERIOUSLY?  Let's look at this massive mess of deceit logically.

First of all, if Slick Sammy the Salesman was making mad money, hand over fist with a gimmick to allow him to swim in money, exactly WHY would ne be sharing with any assorted bored, broke, sluggish Internet surfing underachievers in their tidy-whities?  Honestly, if you could make  a bazillion dollars, would you share with a bazillion strangers?  Maybe friends, family, but STRANGERS?  Ah-ha...just as I thought!

"Ladies and gentlemen, step right up, move in a little closer, all you need is a computer, Internet connection, will and desire!  We'll train you.  Follow our step  by step, proven methods!"  If all of these claimants had megaphones, instead of snappy "volume controls", you'd think that you were walking the Net Midway through an alley of Barkers!  What a carnival of garbage!

The scariest and yet most ridiculous scam out there on the "Work at Home" bandwagon is one where by, you have a "Mentor".  Patty will phone and after a pep talk about how she is doing soooooo well working at home, directs you to write down your three goals, and on and on, moves in for the kill asking for $299 to begin making a Six Figure Income (would that be $000000?)  immediately.  After Patty is told that $299 isn't possible for a week or two, she then proposes, "Oh, I get it.  It's tough.  You'll be so glad that you are on track to do this though.  So, I'll tell you what I'm going to do" (Original?  Not hardly).  "For $9.99, enthuses Patty, "I'll send you twelve bottles of the healthiest product ever formulated so that you learn to love it!  We don't do sales, you  will only manage your own site, your own business, but if you love the product, you will have an incentive to join the program!  You can even put some in a cooler, when you visit friends or family and nonchalantly pull one out, start drinking and they'll want to know where you got it and how to buy some!"  Whoa, wait a minute Patty!  This was to make money from web pages...no sales, no inventory; no deliveries, etc. Where did cooler hawking come from?  Now, can you picture stopping to visit a friend, having lunch, coffee, or tea with your daughter, Mom, sister and whipping out a cooler and think they will clamor for "hat?"  Ah-ha...go to Northern Jersey or NYC with a cooler and have my Italian family even let me in the door as a peddler?  My friends have breeding and money.  "Here, Gail, when you are finished jetting between cruises, your houses, Ireland and while shopping at Bergdorf's, get jealous over this bug juice!"  Or, "Hey Suzanne!  Forget the Grey Goose and Dom's bubbly, have a zap of stupidity!"  Or even better, at the next SAG-AFTRA   mixer, meet and greet, I slam my cooler on the table and offer A and B Listers a swig of health!  SERIOUSLY?  I know, I know, at the next Hog Roast, with the Country music playing, the barn cleared for dancing, the steer out in the Adkins field;  as cases of beer are iced,  "Thanks for including this City Slicker again this year, Rick!  I love this ho-down...how about tossing back some pure glutton free, low-cal, watery health?"  SERIOUSLY?  Patty and the cooler goo even outdid Lisa who swoops down on a poor soul's carcass after all else fails and sends: "Sorry you're having trouble.  Click this link for an absolutely free opportunity."  Adrian, in a video sales letter pushes his "social commission" scam then for a mere, $19.99 (instead of $99) AND after passing that screen, how about $99 (discounted from $399) for "set up" to this totally free, HOAX!

I am not a "lifestyle snob", really, but if a person is out of options and out of money, these predators should be jailed and banned from the Internet.  I am a writer ,so really, the above are not too relevant...HOWEVER, this brings me to "Hired Board", Beyond.com" Elance, "My Writing Jobs", "Real Writing Jobs", "Hub Pages," and a slew of bogus insults.  Forget them all, go back to school, get a job doing ANYTHING!

First of all, poor writer, bring money and lots of it.  There are fees, commissions to pay to the sites should you get n assignment (not likely).  Moe cash has to be invested totally disrespecting any talent that the writer may have.  Money a must; talent unnecessary, no experience needed.  Second of all, don't think that the assignments are valid...they don't exist.  Third, for whichever "job" you bid, thinking there is a job, you won't get it because someone from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh will write a 750 word piece for $.25!  That's not a typo, I meant TWENTY-FIVE CENTS FOR THE ENTIRE 750 WORDS ALTOGETHER. (NOT PER)

If these were legitimate jobs, I understand paying a commission to the company , in order to obtain them...AFTER the job is completed, paid from you to the Company. BUT...paying to "join"  to troll for assorted flim-flam "opportunities" is sad and desperate.  If an individual had the funds to "join" these "exclusive" and "wealth building" enterprises, he/she wouldn't NEED them!

So, THINK, THINK, THINK and be warned! Or, lose your shirt (pant, hat and coat as well!)