Books and other stuff I feel like discussing
By education and experience - Accountant with a specialty in taxation. Formerly a CPA (license has lapsed). Masters degree in law of taxation from University of Denver. Now retired. Part time work during baseball season as receptionist & switchboard operator for the Colorado Rockies. This gig feeds my soul in ways I have trouble articulating. One daughter, and four grandchildren. I share the house with two cats; a big goof of a cat called Grinch (named as a joke for his easy going "whatever" disposition); and Lady, a shelter adoptee with a regal bearing and sweet little soprano voice. I would be very bereft if it ever becomes necessary to keep house without a cat.
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Banks
In the early 1990's, my employer offered us direct deposit for our paychecks. Quite a few of the staff traveled regularly, and this was a huge help to them. Those of us who remained office bound still took advantage of the convenience. I recall that if we set up accounts in the bank used by the boss for the office accounts, that we got some kind of deal - a line of credit with a lower rate than the general public, a free credit card, something. I don't remember now, but it was enough to entice me to change my bank from the one I used previously.
Since that day, the bank has been taken over, merged, swallowed up, what have you, and I now have the same account, same account number, same ATM code that I got almost twenty years ago, but the bank I use wasn't even doing business in the Denver area when this all started.
At one point about five years ago, I got a letter from them that the sweet deal offered at the beginning had been offered to me in error, it wasn't designed for the like of small potatoes like me, and they were rescinding it. Since I had never used whatever it was in the first place, I wasn't upset. Just sort of amused. Obviously, someone had lost, or failed to keep, the records of all the carrots on all the sticks waved in front of the little band of employees I once belonged to.
In early 2003, we realized that we had a serious problem in our upstairs bathroom. Water was leaking steadily into the basement below. We got estimates from a couple of remodeling contractors to have both bathrooms upgraded and plumbing problems fixed, and needed a home equity loan to finance the project.
The house has been in my name since my first husband died. This is important to remember. The bank where I have my checking account has a small convenience kiosk in a local supermarket, and I went over there, filled out several forms to apply, and waited for the approval to arrive.
What arrived instead was a phone call with all kinds of questions I didn't understand, referencing my first husband's name, inquiring who he was, and more or less accusing me of a fraudulent loan application. There was a remarkable lack of courtesy and absolutely no sense at all that they were following up on an issue they didn't understand. The attitude was hostile. Very hostile.
I eventually got the financing at another bank.
But the whole thing puzzled me, so I asked my attorney for help, describing in as much detail as I could the type of questions I had received from the bank.
Even knowing that he and his staff were looking for a mention of my first husband's name in connection with the records of my property, my attorney couldn't find anything which answered the puzzle.
I went over to the county clerk's office. The staff there looked at me as if someone had a screw loose, but were careful not to insinuate that it was me, and joined the attorney in having no explanation for the issue raised by the bank. I paid off the second bank on time, and forgot about it. Sort of.
I don't like going to the bank in person. I like using the ATM machines for deposits and to get cash. There are several branches in my area, and one lobby where the service is OK, and if I need to interact with a person, I usually head over there.
But today, I had to make a quick deposit, I had other errands to run, so I stopped into the supermarket kiosk location. The ATM machine was "temporarily not taking deposits" whatever that means. So I went to the window. I asked to have my balance printed on the slip. "May I see ID?" was the response.
"The ATM will give me my balance without my having to ask."
"Yes, but I don't know who you are."
"The ATM machine doesn't either."
"Yes, but you enter your code in the transaction."
Exasperated all over again, I pulled out my driver's license, got my balance, and left.
I've been watching with interest the "Occupy Wall Street" incidents. We've got one going on in Denver, and there have been quite a few arrests.
I have a general idea of the issues which sent people to the streets. I'm not real optimistic that they'll accomplish much, but after my encounter today with a real live person at the bank, and having him come up short when I compare him to a robotic machine, I think I share their sentiments completely.
Since that day, the bank has been taken over, merged, swallowed up, what have you, and I now have the same account, same account number, same ATM code that I got almost twenty years ago, but the bank I use wasn't even doing business in the Denver area when this all started.
At one point about five years ago, I got a letter from them that the sweet deal offered at the beginning had been offered to me in error, it wasn't designed for the like of small potatoes like me, and they were rescinding it. Since I had never used whatever it was in the first place, I wasn't upset. Just sort of amused. Obviously, someone had lost, or failed to keep, the records of all the carrots on all the sticks waved in front of the little band of employees I once belonged to.
In early 2003, we realized that we had a serious problem in our upstairs bathroom. Water was leaking steadily into the basement below. We got estimates from a couple of remodeling contractors to have both bathrooms upgraded and plumbing problems fixed, and needed a home equity loan to finance the project.
The house has been in my name since my first husband died. This is important to remember. The bank where I have my checking account has a small convenience kiosk in a local supermarket, and I went over there, filled out several forms to apply, and waited for the approval to arrive.
What arrived instead was a phone call with all kinds of questions I didn't understand, referencing my first husband's name, inquiring who he was, and more or less accusing me of a fraudulent loan application. There was a remarkable lack of courtesy and absolutely no sense at all that they were following up on an issue they didn't understand. The attitude was hostile. Very hostile.
I eventually got the financing at another bank.
But the whole thing puzzled me, so I asked my attorney for help, describing in as much detail as I could the type of questions I had received from the bank.
Even knowing that he and his staff were looking for a mention of my first husband's name in connection with the records of my property, my attorney couldn't find anything which answered the puzzle.
I went over to the county clerk's office. The staff there looked at me as if someone had a screw loose, but were careful not to insinuate that it was me, and joined the attorney in having no explanation for the issue raised by the bank. I paid off the second bank on time, and forgot about it. Sort of.
I don't like going to the bank in person. I like using the ATM machines for deposits and to get cash. There are several branches in my area, and one lobby where the service is OK, and if I need to interact with a person, I usually head over there.
But today, I had to make a quick deposit, I had other errands to run, so I stopped into the supermarket kiosk location. The ATM machine was "temporarily not taking deposits" whatever that means. So I went to the window. I asked to have my balance printed on the slip. "May I see ID?" was the response.
"The ATM will give me my balance without my having to ask."
"Yes, but I don't know who you are."
"The ATM machine doesn't either."
"Yes, but you enter your code in the transaction."
Exasperated all over again, I pulled out my driver's license, got my balance, and left.
I've been watching with interest the "Occupy Wall Street" incidents. We've got one going on in Denver, and there have been quite a few arrests.
I have a general idea of the issues which sent people to the streets. I'm not real optimistic that they'll accomplish much, but after my encounter today with a real live person at the bank, and having him come up short when I compare him to a robotic machine, I think I share their sentiments completely.
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