Saturday, March 31, 2012

Ms. Senior Citizen

I should be doing my tax return––or pulling weeds––or cleaning out closets. Instead I'm cleaning my computer of years of saved goodies. Unlike closet overflow, I can't have a garage sale of computer tidbits There's a stack of these goodies. Some are quiet old and may have been around the world several times. If they may still have the power to bring a smile to your face, I'm glad.  Now it's up to you––save or drag to the wastebasket. I advise the later.


  Shown below is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by an 86 year old woman. The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the New York Times. 

 Dear Sir: 

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month.  By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honor it.  I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire pension, an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways.  I noticed that whereas I personally answer your telephone calls and letters, when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become. 

 From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person. My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate. 

 Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application Contact which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be  accompanied by documented proof. In due course, at MY convenience, I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. 

Let me level the playing field even further.   When you call me, press buttons as follows: 


 #1. To make an appointment to see me 

#2. To query a missing payment. 

#3. To trans fer the call to my living room in case I am there. 
 #4 To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping 

#5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature. 

 #6.. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home 

#7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier. 

 #8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.  

 #9. To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service.

 #10. This is a second reminder to press* for English. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call. 

 Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement 

  Your Humble Client 

(Remember: This was written by an  86 year old woman -'YA JUST GOTTA LOVE? US  SENIORS" !!!!! )

And remember: Don't make old people mad. We don't like being old in the first place, so it doesn't take much to set us off. 

 Now I get to drag my copy to the trashcan. What a relief!


Friday, March 30, 2012

Dandy's Yogg

Woof, woof!
 Now, you folks who know me, know I'm not at all vain, but facts are facts. I'm a good guard dog and I take good care of My Lady. And I don't look too bad, either. The trouble is, a dog  needs a little help now and then, if he's going to look his best. And I was needing help, big time. My hair was growing faster than the weeds in My Lady's yard. It was dragging those weeds and the burr clover was in bloom. That meant bad trouble in the near future. A trip to the groomer was in order.

That was not a good day. My friend took me and things didn't go right from the very first minute. They were a bit persnickety about puddling on their floor. Now this is a place for dogs, right? Did they provide a public puddle facility? There ought to be a law!

Well, I didn't exactly have an appointment––just a promise to be worked in. I guess they took one look at all my long hair and took a long lunch break, hoping I'd go away, 'cause it was four hours later before I got back to my house. I expect a great part of that time was spent on the slick trim I got.

If all that wasn't bad enough, when I finally got home, My Lady wasn't there to greet me. That was upsetting. That was very upsetting. I stay home when she goes away. When she returns, I'm at the door to greet her and I run around and tell her how glad I am that's she's home. I get my favorite toy out for her to play with. I talk my dog talk to her so she'll laugh. All that, and she wasn't there for me. I came home to an empty house. She has't  heard the last of this, that's for sure.

Would I pout? Of course not! I just ignore. I'm a pro at ignoring. I just lay in my bed and don't move––not even a twitch of an eyelash. You ought to hear all the goings-on when I do that. Whoo-ee, it's comical.

Of course, My Lady can't stand that, so she uses her "treat" trick and I give in. I'm not stupid, you know.

Sometime I bury my treats but not today. It takes a lot of energy to bury anything in a house with a rock floor. My Lady gets a little upset when I try out the sofa pillows, but I've found a place in a little indoor planter. Trouble is, I can't get her plants back the way she had them, so I get the bad dog treatment when she finds them lying out on the floor. Sometimes saving is not a good idea.

There's times when being a dog gets tough. No public puddlers, rules about where a fellow can bury his treats, and not even a mirror to look in while the groomer is working you over. I might have had a suggestion or two. Just look at that shine. Isn't that a slick cut?

Well, it's been a bit tiresome around here so the news can wait. I'll just take a nap.