Dear Mr. Montandon,

May I call you "Mike"? I'll assume that will be a "yes." Well, Mike, as the former mayor of North Las Vegas and a contender for the position of governor of Nevada you're probably wondering why I'm writing.

An open letter to Dan Hesse, Sprint CEO

If you read my column from last week (which I doubt you did seeing that you are currently director of government affairs at a construction firm) you'll know that I have begun a new and, to those I write to, probably irritating career penning "open" missives to people who are otherwise hard to reach. And you, my friend, are hard to reach.

It is ironic that you are hard to reach considering how often you write to me. Just the other day I got e-mail from you, or, perhaps more accurately, from your election committee. This surprised me because I hadn't expected to hear from you again.

You first wrote to me, by name no less, in December last year wishing me a festive whatever, enclosing a picture of you and your loved ones, and relating news of your family.

Little did I know your daughter, Whitney, was attending college (my, but they grow up fast, don't they?) and that your brother (who I otherwise know nothing about) lives in Dubai. The problem is, and I hope I sound thoroughly rude here, I really couldn't [care less] [changed the phrase you used … we have our standards. Ed.].

Apparently your campaign, for some random reason given that I live in California, added me to your mailing list. Despite following the unsubscribe link in that message, just a few weeks later I received another from your campaign manager, one Byron Geddes, asking for donations (the request was in a truly lame pitch). I hit the unsubscribe link once again (with gusto I might add) and penned a note to both you and Geddes pointing out that I don't live in Nevada and that I had already unsubscribed.

Alas, you and Geddes must have been too busy to reply or, more likely, didn't give a [fig] [as before. Ed.]. So it was that, in April, I got yet another e-mail from you pitching your stance on nuclear power, inviting me to your meetings, and asking me to sign a petition.

At this point I was busy moving to another house and I may have hit the unsubscribe link for a third time or I may not … I was a little preoccupied at the time. Whether I did or didn't, I know, given your previous behavior and subsequent events, it wouldn't have mattered either way.

Over the next few weeks I forgot all about you and your campaign but then, two days ago, you had to get in touch one more time. Yes, on the eve of the gubernatorial election you sent me a "get out and vote (for me)" plea. Well, I see today in the news that it didn't happen for you. With what looks like just over 15% of the vote it's back to the day job for you.

So, what am I writing to you about? Simply that if your campaign can't (or couldn't) manage their e-mail lists I suspect that lots of other aspects of your IT operations are (were) sub-optimal. That, consequently, makes me wonder about the expertise of your campaign strategists which, in turn, makes me wonder about your own management abilities.