The Medicare Kit Is Back! Apparently, MyChart Really Wants My Survey Answers 😂
Well, well, well. Look what showed up in my inbox today.
Remember that email I received offering me a supposedly free Medicare Kit in exchange for completing a short survey about my MyChart experience?
Apparently, the first invitation wasn't enough.
They're back for another round!
This time, the email arrived with the subject line “Fw: Some Recent News.” It came from someone named Jessie Gaines, using a Gmail address, and included four attachments—two text files and two PNG images.
And right there in the message is the familiar offer:
A completely new Medicare Kit!
All I have to do is complete a short survey about my experiences and preferences with the MyChart portal.
How thoughtful.
My inbox is apparently determined to improve my healthcare experience, one suspicious email at a time.
Déjà Vu: The Medicare Kit Edition
The message uses the MyChart name and logo, addresses me as “Dear MyChart Customer,” and claims the survey is part of a special feedback program designed to thank people for participating in their digital healthcare journey.
The promised reward? A Medicare Kit.
The call to action? A big green START SURVEY button.
The pitch is simple: answer a few questions, share your feedback, and claim your reward.
But here's the thing: the email doesn't establish that MyChart or any healthcare provider actually sent it.
The sender's Gmail address doesn't demonstrate an official connection to MyChart. The message also doesn't identify a specific healthcare organization sponsoring the promotion.
And the fact that it arrived as a forwarded message doesn't make it any more trustworthy.
Why Does This Raise Red Flags?
A few things caught my attention.
1. The sender isn't using an official healthcare domain.
The email comes from a Gmail address. That doesn't automatically prove it's fraudulent, but it certainly doesn't verify the sender's claimed connection to MyChart.
2. The offer uses a familiar healthcare brand.
MyChart is a recognizable patient portal. A familiar name and logo can make an unsolicited message seem more credible than it is.
3. The reward encourages me to click.
Who doesn't like a free gift? The promise of a Medicare Kit gives the recipient a reason to act before asking whether the offer is legitimate.
4. The email includes unexpected attachments.
There are four attachments, including text files and images. I haven't confirmed what's in each attachment, and I'm not going to open suspicious files just out of curiosity.
5. This offer has appeared before.
I've now encountered a very similar Medicare Kit pitch in another email. Repeated messages using the same reward and survey formula make me even more cautious.
I can't confirm the sender's identity or where the survey button goes from this screenshot alone. I also can't say definitively what happens if someone clicks it.
But I don't need to click it to recognize that the offer deserves independent verification.
What Would I Do If I Really Wanted to Check?
I'd open the official MyChart app or go directly to my healthcare provider's website.
If I had questions about a promotion, I'd contact the provider through a phone number or contact method I already knew was legitimate.
I would not use the link in this email to verify the email itself.
And I certainly wouldn't provide my login credentials, Medicare information, payment details or other sensitive personal information to claim an unverified reward.
If the offer is legitimate, I should be able to verify it without trusting the message that brought it to my attention.
My Inbox Is Becoming a Rewards Department
Let's review the recent opportunities my inbox has presented:
A supposedly free Medicare Kit for completing a survey.
A USPS Cart offered in exchange for feedback.
An unsolicited loan offer advertising up to $40,000.
A mysterious recruiting message promising an exciting job opportunity.
Now the Medicare Kit has returned for an encore.
I'm starting to wonder whether my inbox has mistaken me for a professional survey participant with an unlimited appetite for suspicious freebies.
Maybe next I'll receive an email offering me a free hospital, a complimentary postal truck, and a corner office with a $300,000 salary.
One can dream.
But I prefer to keep my personal information, my healthcare accounts, and my money out of these little adventures.
The Bottom Line
An email featuring the MyChart logo is not proof that MyChart sent it. A free gift is not proof of a legitimate promotion. And a survey button is not an invitation I need to accept.
Verify the offer independently. Don't click first and ask questions later.
Have you received an email offering a free Medicare Kit or another reward in exchange for completing a survey? I'd like to hear about it.
Send screenshots and your experiences to niel@nielflamm.com. Please remove sensitive personal information before sending anything.
I'll keep documenting what shows up in my inbox. Apparently, the freebie department isn't going out of business anytime soon.
Until next time: stay curious, stay cautious, and don't let a green button make decisions for you.
$713 Million, Nine Fraternity Brothers, and a $4 Return on Investment
Good morning, fellow dreamers, degenerates, and future owners of questionable luxury properties!
This morning, before I even checked our fraternity lottery pool tickets, I saw that Powerball had climbed to $713 million.
Naturally, my first thought was, "Well, this could get interesting!"
My second thought was, "I wonder how badly we got our asses kicked in the last drawing."
Welcome to the exciting world of fraternity lottery pool management, where dreams are unlimited, spreadsheets are plentiful, and the return on investment can be downright embarrassing.
Nine Guys. $180. Two Games. One Dream.
Here's the current breakdown of our little financial operation:
9 fraternity brothers
$20 per person
$180 total
$90 allocated to Powerball
$90 allocated to Mega Millions
We're diversifying our portfolio, naturally.
Some people invest in stocks, bonds, and real estate. We invest in little slips of paper that let us fantasize about never attending another work meeting.
And, of course, I've been keeping everyone informed with spreadsheets, odds, payouts, and the occasional reminder that we're statistically more likely to remain exactly where we are financially.
But hey, somebody has to win eventually, right?
Please don't send me the mathematical explanation.
The Moment of Truth
After seeing that $713 million jackpot, I finally checked our tickets.
Drumroll, please!
🥁🥁🥁
Out of the $90 we spent on game tickets, we won a whopping $4.
FOUR. DOLLARS.
That's a return of approximately 4.44% on the $90 spent.
Wall Street, eat your heart out!
At this rate, we'll be able to afford a yacht sometime around the year 3026.
The good news? We didn't lose every single dollar.
The bad news? Our $4 victory won’t get us a reservation at a Michelin-starred restaurant.
I suppose we could reinvest the winnings, buy a celebratory coffee, or put it toward the down payment on our future bologna-filled swimming pool.
I'm leaning toward the pool.
Naturally, I Asked Them to Double Down
So what did I do after discovering our magnificent $4 windfall?
Did I resign as Lottery Pool Commissioner?
Did I announce that the experiment had failed?
Did I throw my spreadsheets into the nearest recycling bin?
Absolutely not!
I asked the guys to double down with another $20 per person for Wednesday's drawing.
Because apparently, nine fraternity brothers and a combined $180 weren't enough to convince the universe to cooperate.
We're going back for another round!
This is either perseverance, a questionable financial strategy, or evidence that I should never be allowed to manage a casino.
I'll let you decide.
The Fraternity Retirement Plan
At this point, our retirement strategy consists of three simple steps:
Buy lottery tickets.
Check the numbers.
Pretend the next drawing is the one that changes everything.
If we actually hit that $713 million jackpot, I'll have to update the spreadsheets, calculate everyone's share, and figure out how much money we can spend on ridiculous things before someone suggests we act like responsible adults.
Responsible adults?
In this fraternity?
Let's not get carried away.
For now, we're nine guys, a few lottery tickets, and a $4 victory that probably won't make the history books.
But Wednesday is another drawing, another opportunity, and another chance to turn our spreadsheets into America's most unnecessary financial documents.
Stay tuned. The Lottery Commissioner isn’t ready to surrender his clipboard yet.
And if we win big, remember: I was the guy buying the tickets, tracking the numbers, and keeping everyone organized.
I'm sure the guys will remember that.
I'm also sure I'll have another spreadsheet ready.
🎉 Google Says People Are Clicking on Me! Should I Be Worried? 😂
Well, look at that! Google sent me a little congratulations message. Apparently, NielFlamm.com received 70 clicks from Google Search in the past 28 days! 🎉
Seventy! That's practically a standing-room-only event online. 😂
Now I'm wondering... what exactly are people searching for?
Did someone Google my name out of curiosity? 🤔
Did someone hear about my website and think, "Who is this guy, and why does he have a website?"
Did somebody search for a movie review, stumble across my blog, and suddenly find themselves reading about dialysis, life as an amputee, dating adventures, or my ongoing saga with Nextdoor?
Or did someone accidentally click the link and immediately think, "Well, I'm here now. Let's see what this guy is talking about!" 🤣
I'll probably never know, and that's part of the fun.
But here's what really matters to me.
When I started tracking these numbers, I was getting barely 50 clicks a month on the website. The numbers have grown steadily, and 70 clicks in the past 28 days is another small milestone worth celebrating.
I'm not competing with major publications or trying to become the next internet celebrity. I'm simply sharing my experiences, opinions, movie reviews, and stories from this crazy thing we call life.
And to those of you who have been visiting since the early days, THANK YOU! ❤️
You know who you are.
Whether you come to read a blog post, watch a video, check out a movie review, follow one of my adventures, or see what nonsense I've gotten myself into this week, I appreciate you.
It doesn't matter why you visit. You took the time to click, read, watch, or share your thoughts, and that means something to me.
Every click represents an opportunity for someone to discover something new, laugh a little, relate to an experience, or maybe see something from a different perspective.
So, to my early supporters and everyone who's joined along the way, thank you for helping NielFlamm.com grow.
And to the person who Googled me, clicked the link, and is now reading this very paragraph...
Welcome! There's a lot of internet garbage to explore. Grab a virtual cup of coffee and make yourself at home. ☕😂
Here's to the next milestone!
The Creators Built the Platform. Why Aren't More of Them Sharing the Revenue?
From Nextdoor to Facebook, social media platforms have a revenue-sharing problem. The people creating the content shouldn't be an afterthought in the business model.
I watched a Facebook Reel featuring Princess Poppy from Poppy Seed Home (https://www.facebook.com/poppyseedhome). The creator discussed money she believes she and Poppy are owed.
I don't know the full backstory, the dispute details, or the circumstances behind the claim. I'm not going to pretend I do.
But something she said resonated with a point I've been making for months while examining Nextdoor and the broader social media business model.
The users create the content. Without the content, what exactly would the platforms have to offer?
Think about that for a moment.
The Platform Provides the Stage. Who Creates the Show?
Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and Nextdoor each offer a different experience. Some focus on entertainment, some on video, some on professional content, and others on neighborhood conversations.
But they share an important characteristic: user contributions help make these platforms valuable.
Creators produce videos, write posts, share photographs, offer recommendations, answer questions, and build communities. Other users watch, read, comment, react, and share.
That activity attracts attention.
Attention creates opportunities for advertising, subscriptions, sponsorships and other commercial products.
The platform provides the technology, distribution, moderation systems, infrastructure and tools. Those things cost money and deserve compensation.
But the people creating the material that attracts the audience also contribute something valuable.
Why should the platform be the only party with a guaranteed business model built around that collective activity?
I'm not arguing that every post should generate a payment. Nor am I saying that anyone who uploads a picture or comments on a neighborhood discussion is automatically entitled to a share of advertising revenue.
I'm asking whether the current arrangements fairly recognize the different kinds of value people contribute.
Yes, Big Creators Make Money. What About Everyone Else?
Let's acknowledge that revenue-sharing programs already exist.
Facebook reported paying content creators nearly $3 billion in 2025, a 35% increase over the previous year. Its monetization programs cover eligible Reels, Stories, photos, and text posts, although access and earnings depend on program rules and content performance.
YouTube also has established advertising and subscription revenue-sharing programs for eligible creators.
Those are meaningful steps. I'm not suggesting that platforms never pay creators.
But here's the issue: not everyone who adds value gets the same opportunities.
Some creators build enormous audiences. They may qualify for monetization, attract sponsorships, and negotiate lucrative brand partnerships.
Then there are smaller creators.
They might have a few hundred followers, a few thousand views, or a modest community that regularly engages with their work. They may never become famous, but their contributions still give people reasons to visit the platform.
Their posts fill feeds. Their videos give people something to watch. Their recommendations help users decide what to watch. Their interactions keep conversations moving.
And when someone opens an app to watch one creator's video, they may also see ads, sponsored posts, and recommendations for other content.
The platform can benefit from that visit even when the original creator receives no direct payment.
I believe that's a part of the business model worth examining more closely.
Small Creators Are Part of the Infrastructure
Imagine a shopping mall.
The mall owner maintains the building, provides security, manages the property, and leases space to businesses. The businesses stock the shelves, serve customers, and give people reasons to visit.
Now imagine the mall became successful because thousands of small businesses attracted shoppers, but only a select group received a share of the revenue that traffic generated.
The comparison isn't perfect. Social media platforms have different economics, and you can't always attribute advertising revenue to a single post or creator.
But the principle is worth considering.
A platform can own the infrastructure without being the sole source of its value.
Small creators are part of the ecosystem. Together, their contributions make a platform feel active, interesting, and worth revisiting.
If platforms want people to keep creating, shouldn't they think about ways to reward more than just the biggest names?
That could mean lower barriers to monetization, transparent bonus programs, small-creator funds, fan-supported payments, or revenue-sharing models that reward qualifying contributions.
The goal doesn't have to be paying everyone equally. It should build a system where meaningful contributions have a realistic path to recognition and compensation.
Nextdoor Has the Same Question to Answer
This is where my ongoing Nextdoor case study comes in.
Nextdoor is different from Facebook or YouTube. Its value comes less from viral entertainment videos. It comes from neighborhood participation.
Neighbors share recommendations for contractors, restaurants, and local services. They discuss community issues, answer questions, post about local events, and exchange information about what's happening nearby.
Businesses can benefit from that activity. Nextdoor can use its audience and neighborhood context to develop advertising products.
The company has also introduced Neighborhood Intelligence, an advertising offering built around neighborhood-level insights.
That raises a question I've asked before:
When neighborhood knowledge becomes part of a commercial product, how should the people contributing that knowledge participate in the value created?
I'm not claiming that every neighborhood post is used in an advertising product, or that every contributor has a legal right to payment. Those are different questions requiring specific evidence and agreements.
I'm asking Nextdoor to consider the broader business relationship.
A neighbor might spend years recommending local businesses, answering questions, and sharing useful information. Those contributions can help make the platform valuable to other users and attractive to advertisers.
What does that neighbor receive in return beyond access to the service?
Perhaps the service itself is the benefit. Some contributors may be satisfied with that arrangement.
But we shouldn’t assume every user sees the exchange the same way.
We should explore additional models that reward people who make sustained, meaningful contributions.
What Would Fairer Revenue Sharing Look Like?
I don't believe one model works for every platform. Different content creates different value, and a system that works for video creators may not work for neighborhood recommendations.
But here are some possibilities worth considering.
1. Lower barriers for smaller creators.
Make it easier for creators with modest audiences to qualify for meaningful monetization, as long as their content meets quality, originality, and safety standards.
2. More transparent earnings.
Give creators understandable information about what qualifies for payment, how earnings are calculated, why views may not count, and how payouts are determined.
3. Rewards for useful community contributions.
Platforms like Nextdoor could explore opt-in programs that reward qualifying contributions to research, local knowledge initiatives, or other commercial projects, with clear terms and privacy protections.
4. Revenue-sharing pools.
Where platforms can't neatly attribute individual advertising revenue to one post, they could explore pools that distribute a portion of eligible revenue among qualifying contributors based on transparent criteria.
5. Better protection against unauthorized reuse.
Creators should have clear ways to report impersonation, unauthorized copying, and misuse of their work, along with understandable processes for resolving disputes.
6. A seat at the table.
Platforms should consult creators of different sizes when designing monetization policies. The needs of someone with millions of followers aren't necessarily the same as those of someone building a small, loyal community.
None of these approaches eliminates the costs of operating a platform. None guarantees that every user will earn money.
But each offers a way to think more seriously about the relationship between contribution and compensation.
The Counterargument: The Platform Takes the Risk
Of course, social media companies have expenses.
They pay for engineering, hosting, security, moderation, customer support, product development, and legal compliance. They also take business risks and invest in systems that help creators reach audiences.
Those investments matter.
And users generally agree to terms that explain how their content may be used when they sign up. For example, TikTok's U.S. terms state that the company can generate revenue and value from use of its services. At the same time, users generally have no right to share in that revenue unless an applicable program or agreement provides otherwise.
That is the commercial arrangement many people accept when they join a platform.
But accepting today's terms doesn't mean the business model can never improve.
Companies regularly revise their products, pricing, and partnerships when they see an opportunity to build a stronger business.
Why shouldn't they also revisit how they share value with the people whose contributions help sustain their platforms?
A fairer model could strengthen loyalty, encourage original content, and give smaller creators more reasons to keep participating.
The challenge is designing a model that rewards meaningful contributions without encouraging spam, artificial engagement, or low-quality content created solely to collect payments.
That's a business problem worth solving—not a reason to avoid the discussion.
Princess Poppy Made Me Think About the Bigger Picture
Returning to the Reel that started this thought: I don't know the full circumstances of the payment issue involving Princess Poppy and her creator. I need more information before I can conclude what happened or what anyone is owed.
But I don't need every detail of that dispute to recognize the larger question it raised.
Creators invest time, effort, and creativity in producing material that other people enjoy. Some build businesses around their work. Others contribute because they love what they do.
The platform benefits when people keep coming back for that content.
When disputes arise over payment, attribution, or the use of creative work, the underlying relationship deserves scrutiny.
The question isn't whether a platform should make money. Of course it should have a sustainable business model.
The question is whether the people contributing to that model have fair opportunities to share in the value they help create.
The Future Shouldn't Belong Only to the Platforms
Social media companies have built enormously valuable businesses by connecting people and distributing content at scale.
Their technology matters. Their employees matter. Their advertisers matter. Their investors matter.
And their users matter.
The next stage of social media monetization should recognize that an ecosystem creates value, not just the company that owns the app.
That doesn't mean everyone gets a check every month. It means platforms should be willing to experiment with fairer, more transparent ways to reward meaningful contributions.
For Facebook, that means continuing to examine how monetization can reach beyond established stars.
For YouTube and TikTok, it means keeping eligibility rules and revenue-sharing programs understandable and accessible to creators with different-sized audiences.
For Nextdoor, it means asking whether neighbors who contribute useful local knowledge should have additional opportunities to participate when that knowledge supports commercial products.
And for all of them, it means remembering that a platform without interesting contributions has a much harder time attracting and retaining an audience.
The platforms built the tools. The creators and communities helped give those tools value. Isn't it time we had a bigger conversation about sharing the returns?
👉 Read more of my ongoing Nextdoor case study and other commentary at NielFlamm.com/blog.
The LinkedIn Caper, Part 2: Angel, You're Up! 🎬
Sunday, I replied to Angel Sharma with a simple message:
Hello Angel,
Let's go ahead and explore the role.
Niel
Now it's Monday, 8:14 p.m. Eastern, and I haven’t heard anything.
😂 And my money is on never hearing from Angel again.
That would be an interesting turn in our little Ocean's Eleven-inspired experiment. The recruiter approaches with an exciting opportunity, mentions their professional background, promises remote work, and invites you to learn more. Interest is expressed—and suddenly, the next move is hers.
Of course, one day without a response doesn't prove anything. Recruiters get busy, and legitimate opportunities can take time to develop.
But the interesting part is what happens next. Will Angel provide a real job title, identify the employer, explain the role and compensation, or simply disappear into the LinkedIn wilderness?
I'm waiting to see whether this caper has a second act. 🎭