Hanging up on telemarketing scams
Scam. Con. Sting. Dodge. Those aren’t cars. They’re slang terms
for a dishonest scheme designed to separate you from your money or
your goods, or both. This week, it’s golf clubs.
In case you missed it, on Thursday last, the U.S. attorney’s
office expressed its extreme displeasure with a telemarketing
operation that lightened the wallets and purses of golfers across the
country by more than $5.8 million. The company, Professional Golf
Products, was based in Huntington Beach, ran telephone boiler rooms
out of Fountain Valley, and the people arrested included two from
Costa Mesa. Who says cities don’t cooperate?
So what was it this time and how did it work? A better question
might be: how could it have worked? I would have been surprised if
this scam netted six hundred dollars, let alone close to $6 million.
Professional Golf Products’ telephonic tricksters would apparently
tell their golf-loving victims they had been selected to “test” a set
of revolutionary, state-of-the-art clubs at no charge and with no
obligation to buy. All it took was a credit card number for a
security deposit on these incredibly wonderful fabulous clubs.
Surely, no one actually gave them their credit card number, did
they? Let me repeat: $6 million dollars in deposits from golfers
across the country. When the clubs finally arrived,
“state-of-the-art” is not what came to mind. “Cheap, cheesy things
that looked like ‘Little Timmy’s First Clubs’ from Toys-R-Us” is what
came to mind.
When the victims -- now feeling used, abused and confused -- tried
to return the clubs, they were told that they had in fact purchased
them, and that all this business about “testing” and “security
deposits” just didn’t ring a bell.
It’s not something I’m proud of, but I find myself increasingly
short on sympathy for those who get hooked by these silly schemes
year after year. Maybe the fact that I’m a golfer is why this goofy
scheme annoys me more than most. This dodge had more red flags waving
than the Kremlin on May Day.
Flag 1: People who make things do not randomly call people up and
ask them to “test” them. Flag 2: $6,000 is not a deposit on golf
clubs, $6,000 is a deposit on a house. Flag 3 -- the biggest, reddest
flag of all: You’re talking to a telemarketer for heaven’s sake! How
many times do we have to go over this? Never, never, never buy
anything of any kind at any time from anyone over the phone.
Your brain is smarter than you are. Trust your brain. If you need
something, it will know what to do. Whether it’s milk, land in
Arizona or golf clubs, your brain will tell you: “Go. Find. Buy.” You
don’t need strangers calling you at dinnertime to remind you that you
need land in Arizona, which of course you don’t.
Even more frustrating is that these scams have been around since
Moses was a tot and pop up in the news time and time again. This one
happens to be the deposit scam.
Another variation is the “pigeon drop.”
You’re in a parking lot. As you get into your car, a pretty,
well-dressed woman is standing nearby. She looks flustered. You’re
not sure if she’s talking to herself or to you. Then she says she
just found an envelope lying on the ground near her car. The envelope
is stuffed with thousands of dollars in cash, which she readily shows
you.
She just doesn’t know what to do. But by the time she’s done
spinning her web, she lays out a plan for handing the money over to a
third party and convinces you to put up a “good faith” deposit so the
two of you can split the cash if no one claims it.
Too crazy? Don’t bet on it. Thousands of people across the country
fall for it every year, ironically, in the most affluent areas. Why
do otherwise average, reasonable people fall for these things? I have
no idea.
But that’s enough about people who behave badly. It’s time to
recognize two people who have behaved very, very well for a long time
-- 50 years to be exact. Jim and Joan Scott have been pillars of
Costa Mesa since 1962, and it’s not easy being a pillar, as you know.
Among countless other community projects, Jim is the originator and
driving force behind the effort to build a 50-meter Olympic pool at
Costa Mesa High and a football stadium and CIF track at Estancia.
Normally, when it comes to weddings and anniversaries, I have to
be heavily sedated, blindfolded and wheeled inside on a refrigerator
dolly by two large orderlies. But just last Sunday, Jim and Joan --
pronounced “Jo Ann” by the way -- celebrated their 50th anniversary
with a party that was as funny and as much fun as anything I’ve seen
in a good long time.
As a former airman and an engineer with a master’s degree in
education, Jim had the event planned down to the quarter hour, as
noted in the 21-page program -- the highlight of which was “Jim and
Joan’s Battle Plan for Life.” The battle plan started with
“Education,” then chartered a course through
“Job...Car...Wife/Husband... Home... Furnish Home...Children.”
Joan, who also holds a master’s degree in education, was born in
Thyatria, Miss. Jim was born in Tulia, Texas. Sensing that not many
of us have been to either place, Jim started his remarks in front of
maps of Mississippi and Texas, pointing out the two towns with a
laser pointer.
Jim and Joan’s children and grandchildren filled out the
entertainment, topped off with Jim’s rendition of “The Nearness of
You” for Joan.
So there you have it. Two thumbs up for Jim and Joan Scott, and if
the phone rings, just say, “No thank you, I’m trying to quit,” then
hang up. Unless it’s your boss. I gotta go.
* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs
Sundays. He may be reached via e-mail at PtrB4@aol.com.
All the latest on Orange County from Orange County.
Get our free TimesOC newsletter.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Daily Pilot.