No getting rich quick in real world

Know anyone who has an opening? The job fantasy here that had me making big bucks teaching University of New Mexico journalism alongside former Bill Richardson press guy Billy Sparks fizzled.

Gone, too, is my gig as czar in charge of reminding people Big Bill is not running for president. That becomes nearly impossible what with the guv scurrying on up to Iowa to hobnob with other leader-of-the-free-world wannabes.

Not only that, Bill calls a press conference and confronts Wal-Mart for shoddy employment practices. When you take on a corporate giant, you’ve got to be running for something.

(Note to Richardson: Mistake, Bill. The masses LOVE Wal-Mart. It is the social hub of small-town America. People can get their hair cut, car fixed, check deposited, vision tested, eat lunch and buy lots of cheap stuff they don’t need. Looking for a cause? Go after the greedy oil companies.)

No matter. That’s all behind me now. Goodbye weekly deadline. Hello cash. This poor word slave is about to be rolling in deep clover. And I’m getting rich the old-fashioned way. The Internet way.

There is big money in my e-mail box. For instance, who would have known I had relatives in Spain were it not for this ubiquitous means of instant communication?

“Dear partner,” said the e-mail. “My name is Jose Antonio Borico, an attorney at law, a national of Equatorial Guinea, practicing in Spain.”

Normally I would have been suspicious right off, except for the fact this was from an attorney at law, and all of us know when you are dealing with an attorney at law, you’re in ethical company.

“I am writing to notify you of the unclaimed inheritance deposit of our late client who passed on to the great beyond (on) March 11, 2004, in the Madrid Bomb Blast.”

Turns out that I, your poor, modest and humble columnist, am related to Jose’s late client and am about to come into a pot of cash. We’ve not worked out the final details yet, but no big deal. I’ve got other irons in the fire.

“Greetings,” said another recent e-mail. “I am Mrs. Sandra Bullock.” (Here’s a scam artist with great imagination.) “I am a dying woman who (has) decided to donate what I have to you.”

And yet another, this from Miss Nina Nadia Guei of West Africa:

“Dear one,

“Compliment of the season. I am … the only survived daughter of the family of the assassinated General Guei Robert” blah blah blah. Miss Guei, turns out, is filthy rich and will pay me handsomely to handle her U.S. investments. See how it works?

OK, cut the nonsense. Surprisingly, New Mexicans are falling for these transparently obvious scams. Said one banker acquaintance: “We have seen an incredible number of bank customers get involved in some of these scams. Most have avoided losses but some have lost some money.”

Here’s how it works. Nina sends me a check for $50,000 and I get to keep $8,000 for my trouble. I send $42,000 back to Nina who needs the money to cover certain costs pursuant to our deal. The $50,000 check bounces and I’m out 42 G.

Ouch.

The bottom line: If it is too good to be true, it’s too good to be true. There are some clever scams out there, and they can look legitimate. Vigilance is the cornerstone of prudence. Having said that, I can’t help but wonder: Do you think Sandra Bullock is really trying to get a hold of me? Whoa!

Ned Cantwell welcomes response at:

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