Caregiving.com Blog

I think that sums it up.

I’m at my sister’s house while she and her family vacation in Wisconsin and visit her in-laws. I love her house, particularly her deck, which offers a pleasant and peaceful place to work, until my laptop needs to be re-charged and we head to the kitchen table and a nearby outlet.

I have given myself a timeline to quit my day job; I want to give notice around the beginning of October when Artist Girl returns from her maternity leave. In the next two months, my goals are:

1. To do well at my day job and leave on good terms with Boss;

2. To enjoy a booming business, which means my revenue pays off my debt and affords me the freedom to quit my day job;

3. To take care of myself by making good decisions, exercising, resting, and socializing (not in that order).

I believe I’ve turned the corner with my business, as the new site grows better and better every day. I can feel its energy, an energy that gains in momentum every minute. The content and the community feel good to me right now. They also feel like they are outside of me, re-creating and growing on their own.

I am tired today, so now will rest.

I’ve checked my pulse, held a mirror under my chin, listened to my heartbeat. I am alive.

The past few weeks were busier than I expected. It was rough moving the members of Yahoo! groups to the new site. Many were upset about the change (one member called my decision an “atrocity”), although I did my best to comfort and encourage. The move is over, so now we’re just rearranging the furniture.

As you read this, I’m doing laundry, watching the Cubs, sitting in my mom’s recliner and typing away on my laptop. Ah! the refined technique of multi-tasking. I have the house to myself as my folks enjoy a long weekend in Door County. A whole, empty house is a luxury to me so I didn’t step outside for almost 48 hours. (I also didn’t shower or brush my hair–no need!) I finally ventured out Saturday afternoon for a quick run to the store (I was out of Doritos).

I’m still a bit worn out from a brutal few weeks of work. I’ll try to write more tomorrow. I feel the need for a little break to enjoy a handful of mini-Snickers bars (I’m off the diet for the weekend).

So, Mister Caregiver (Dot Com) didn’t remove my material. Instead, he took the premise behind my concept and changed the wording enough to differentiate it from mine.

I take some pride in knowing that he knows he did wrong–otherwise, why change? But, why take what I’ve done, superficially massage it and call your own? Others will know and will question your business ethic. Why not create you own “claim to fame”? Others will respect that and pursue partnerships.

More importantly, Mister Caregiver, how will you describe the genesis of “your concept”? I begin every discussion of my concept with the story of its inception. Will you say: “I took Denise’s work, changed a few things and called it my own.” Wow! How’s that for inspiration!

The saying goes, “Imitation is the greatest form of flattery.” I suppose. Here’s another saying, though: Steal from one, you steal from everyone. You can’t thrive when you thieve.

So, I’m skipping through my site yesterday morning, whistling a happy tune. I’m admiring the nice features, the nifty tools until… I glance at the Google ads running on one my pages. I see words similar to these: Every caregiver is in a stage. Where are you?

Okay, these are my words, I think. I click to the site and, sure enough, there’s my content, customized a bit, but, for the most part, my words. “The Six Stages of Caregiving,” a concept I developed in 1997 and finalized in 1998, presented as someone else’s ideas, content and words. No credit, no source, no thanks.

Wow.

I can only contact the site’s owners by filling out a form. So, I do, writing: “You’re using my content without my permission. Please remove.”

Now, I will tell you the name of the site, but I won’t provide a link. Providing a link will help them; I, of course, don’t want to help them. The site is Mister Caregiver dot com (all one word).

So, later in the afternoon, I receive a note from Mrs. Mister Caregiver; her message carries this subject line, “A Little Love from Mister Caregiver.” Really.

Really.

We purchased The Caregiving Years presentation program, she writes. We thought we were purchasing a right to distribute.

Hmm… You purchased a PowerPower presentation, not content for your site.

We love your work, she continues, and want you to be an expert on our site. And, oh, let’s talk about future collaborative possibilities, such as JVs (joint ventures).

Here’s my reply:

You purchased the presentation program–which is a presentation program for
community events. It was marketed that way clearly on my site. You can use
it as a presentation program–that’s it. You received information from me
as to how to use the material as a community presentation, not for
reproduction on a website, handbook or brochure.

It’s also has a copyright on the presentation program. Yet, you do give
credit anywhere on your site as to the source of the material.

I’ve been online since 1995–and I have never had anyone purchase
something from me under false pretense. And, that’s what this is.

You did not purchase a right for duplication–because if you bought a
right for duplication, that’s what you would have. You have a presentation
program. And, further you used material that is not part of the
presentation program. In essence, you took material from my site and used
it for you own.

That’s not right. Please remove immediately.

–Denise

????????
Well, no more love comes my way from Mister Caregiver. I check his site again this morning—the content remains. I e-mailed Mrs. Mister Caregiver this afternoon, repeating my demand for the content to be removed.

I want a divorce from Mr. (and Mrs.) Caregiver.