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Bush Officials Urge Swift Action on Rescue Powers
NYTimes.com

Bush seeks $700B for debt bailout
CNN

Economists: Financial bailout necessary
MSNBC

“People who go broke in a big way never miss any meals. It is the poor jerk who is shy half a slug who must tighten his belt. ” The Notebooks of Lazarus Long

Where were all of these helpful people two years ago when we needed a bailout?  We are classic “victims”, if that is the correct word, of the Mortgage Mess.

We had a nice house.  It wasn’t showy or very big, but it was ours.  Well, MOSTLY ours.  To quote a song by the late, great Jerry Reed “That me and the finance company own”.  “Owned” is the correct verb. 

Like (m)any other chump(s) in the late 90’s I tried to keep it as nice as possible, while enhancing the resale value.  New siding and windows came first.  It was really first-rate viny siding, and very good double-paned windows.  The contractor even knew a banker looking to make this kind of home improvement 2nd mortgage loan.  The plan was we were to get the work done, and then she was supposed to help us get a new mortgage at a lower rate for the whole amount.  That was the plan.  However:

“The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men,
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!
(The best laid schemes of Mice and Men
oft go awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!)   Robert Burns, To a Mouse (Poem, November, 1785)

Next there were the termites they discovered while replacing the patio door. I’d never seen a termite before, but there was little doubt in my mind what those stupid little white ants were. Hello, exterminator.

After the loan went through and the work was done, I couldn’t find the loan officer. The offices where they had been were empty. This was not a fly-by-night operation. This was a real bank and a banker of some standing in the community.

So anyway there we are with a nice looking house and two mortgages. We should have sold it then, without the loan officer, but this was at a time when the local military base was undergoing a downsizing, with the major unit moving to Europe. Schools built to accommodate the families of soldiers and support personnel were closed, and houses didn’t move in that market. By 1993, we had filed bankruptcy.

After The Floods of 1993, the ground started moving at an accelerated rate. We escaped the water, but the false-stability of the ground was disturbed. First the foundation cracked. If you are unfamiliar with Kansas geology and building practices, imagine if you will houses built on the old flood plain of a river, down stream from the dam constructed to control the flooding but outside of the levees. “Geology” actually implies rock. “Sandy Clay” is a better description. Houses built upon slabs of concrete on land that calling it “unstable” is a gross misnomer. Water line breaks were routine, and to find a house without a cracked foundation and wonky walls was a rarity.

It got so bad we could see light coming in beneath the south wall in the master bedroom. The floors were like a rolling plain beneath the carpeting from all of the cracks. So another mortgage was necessary to get at least the south end of the house lifted. Then part of the ceiling started to collapse because of all the foundation movement.

My wife started talking about gasoline and matches. I started hoping for a tornado- less suspicious. They had discovered a small geologic fault running beneath the dam by this time, and everyone had earthquake insurance added onto their policy. I tried to convince my agent to consider that it all MAY have started with a small earthquake, but he thought I was kidding.

We had to wait until after 2000 to get his done, until the bankruptcy had been completely discharged, but eventually

we got the one end of the house done. I thought it was odd that the mortgage officer that we went through kept adding onto our income until it “fit”, but he assured me that this was a common practice, coming to an “average” income level for our area.

So once again we limped along for several years, in hopes of getting yet another refinancing to fix the other end of the house. I should have looked skyward for inspiration – I might have seen the leaks in the roof. Another refinance, only not for what we had planned. THIS guy told me he knew of an appraiser that “if he didn’t see it, it wasn’t real” so he urged me to smooth out and/or otherwise cover up the undulating floors. That way the house would appraise for more and we could get more of a mortgage. We got a nice chunk of change, but not enough to do the rest of the foundation as well.

Finally we felt we were in a position to finish the foundation work. Someone started building multi-story houses along a nearby street, and property values skyrocketed. We thought with the increase in value we might finally be able to get the foundation done and sell this house. We were in the process of preparing for this when we discovered that the termites had not really left. No the hungry little… devils had come up behind a book shelf we had on the eastern wall, making many of our books hors d’oeuvres before proceeding on to the main structure. We couldn’t even interest anyone in the house as a potential “flip” with this combination of problems. We couldn’t afford it, we couldn’t fix it and we couldn’t even sell it. So we lost it.

One would think I should have been suspicious of all of these clowns and their machinations, and on one level I suppose I was. But I kept thinking eventually we’d sell the house, and everything would work out.

So why am I asking about OUR bailout? What excuse do these financiers have? They hoped it would continue for ever, and everyone would wind up happy, rich and comfortable. The minute things got tough for them, they start crying for the government to help them. Nobody rode to our aid. We received no such compassion & understanding from them. I read about loan officers from these companies living in their cars and losing their condos, some living in their cars, and I say “wah!”

One mortgage company referred us to a debt assistance company. We had submitted all of our information to this outfit and they had sent it to them. So what did it accomplish? When I called to see what we could work out, they hadn’t even opened the packet. The representative had no idea what I was talking about, and just continued to demand payment.

Bailout?  Don’t those building have windows?  Feel free.

The People at the Other End of the Phone

It has taken me a while to get around to writing this post, which is OK, because I understand now more what actually happened. However, I’ll let the incident speak for itself.

I monitor call volume at a telephone customer service center. I won’t mention the name of the company for which I work, nor will I mention the name of the client. I feel this would be a breach of professional etiquette, if not in violation of some paranoid agreement they probably will I insist I signed of my own free will in the wee small hours of a wintry morning after an evenings’ revelry. They shall be hereafter referred to as the Company and the Client.

The Client has very strict ideas about the number of agents that they want “on the phones” at any given time. I have come to believe that they divine these numbers using a Ouija board and fish entrails, but however the get them, that’s what they expect. There are multiple centers, so someone has to keep track of how many agents there are through ALL of them to see how we measure up against the predicted number.

The Company is in the business of running call centers. They have the experience to know how many agents are necessary. Those of us that have worked for the Company for longer than a day or two have seen all manner of calls wander down the wire, and all manner of unforeseen incidents that can affect the number of calls received by any call center on any given day. It’s frequently feast or famine- either we’re up to our butts in alligators or we’re organizing Canasta tournaments.

One weekend the Company, in league with some upper to middle range representatives of the Client, decided to show those with decision making power within the Client that these numbers were unrealistic. So it was decreed that we would have NO MORE agents answering calls at all centers than the number provided by the Client’s bean counters. For example, if the predicted number of agents needed for a particular half-hour period was 150, we could have no more than that number taking calls at ALL centers. This called for co-ordination between centers on an unprecedented scale. It also meant that no matter HOW many calls we had waiting, if we had MORE than 150 people “on the phones”, we had to take them off an have them do training or attend team meetings or clean the center or organize a Canasta tournament.

The problem was that we frequently had as many as 200+ people in the queue waiting to be served, JUST at the call center where I worked. Those calls were left unanswered. Too bad, but a point had to be made. It was very confusing, let me tell you.

However, it left me wondering. What about all of those people at the other end of the phone, who called in expecting “customer service?” WHERE was the customer service in this exercise? How many customers were sacrificed to this little spat?

A Public Service Announcement About Removing Tires

I have noticed a fair number of people finding my little corner of the blogsphere by searching for “getting a tire off of a GEO Metro” or “hammer as tire removal tool” or “brute force VS. explosives in tire removal”.

Before any of you get too involved with an ATF investigation while upsetting your neighbors, let me assure you it IS possible. 

The person at the Midas™ shop to whence I took my ailing Metro said that sometimes the rim on this model will rust around the center, causing it to stick to the suspension:

http://www.iautobodyparts.com/rimswheel_covers-catalog/geo/metro.html

Geo Metro Wheel

He figured my WD-40 soaking and driving it to the shop loosened it sufficiently to facilitate removal. 

Personally, I still think the car was laughing at me.

That smell isn’t just coming from Denmark, Hamlet.

“I think, however more than just Texans are going to be affected by this storm. It is said that 25% of the oil refineries are located off the Texas coast. There are already places that are advertising $5 gas.”

http://www.greeneyewire.com/foo/bracing-for-hurricane-ike/

Having just returned from Illinois, where I found Regular Gasoline going for $4.05 a gallon, I was glad to return to Kansas, where it’s only $3.75. Also, we saw places in Missouri where it as $3.40 a gallon. And yet some places are charging $5.00 a gallon, because of Hurricane Ike.

I remember the evening the First Gulf War started.  I was still working Security at Farrell Library on K-State, which meant I stayed until everyone was out and locked up.  I was listening to the news about the beginning of the air strikes, when “what to my wondering eyes did appear but”,…– no, not a miniature sleigh or any number of reindeer but TWO EMPLOYEES OF A LOCAL GASOLINE EMPORIUM CHANGING THE PRICE OF THE GASOLINE ON THE SIGN!!  There was NO WAY anyone could have effectively known what, if any, affect the opening of hostilities wold have on the price of gas, and this station owner was out raising his prices.  I haven’t bought fuel from him since.

Immediately after 9/11 gas stations raised their prices, and fools lined up to top off their cars at the inflated price.  This before we had any solid PROOF that it was Middle Eastern extremmists whohad carried out the attacks!!  (And lest you ask “Who else would do such a heinous thing?” allow me to point out that the Oklahoma City Bombing as carried out by a white-bread caucasian Gulf War Veteran.)

Oh for heaven’s sake!!  The freakin’ hurricane was probably still miles off shore when they were raising gas prices!! 

I believe this exchange from a 1980 movie called “The Formula” explains much:

 Arthur Clements: [proposing that Titan Oil can raise their gasoline prices] The people will accept the 12 cents now because we can blame it on the Arabs!
Adam Steiffel, Chairman Titan Oil: Ah, Arthur, you’re missing the point: We *are* the Arabs. …We’re not in the oil business; we’re in the oil shortage business! 

Why do SOME places have $5.00 a gallon gasoline and others have it for $3.40??  Is Missouri that much easier to reach than Georgia and South Carolina ?  Aren’t they actually CLOSER to the Gulf and all of those refineries?? California is another place I heard mentioned.  Aren’t they ALSO a major oil producing state? 

What The Market Will Bear.  It’s a basic tenet of business schools, although I’ve never attended a single one.  I did sell produce and Christmas Trees out of our yard in Illinois, and I had a paper route.  I know that if you have what people want (or think they need) they will pay for it. 

Ask any pusher.

I just can’t watch

My wife is in watching the History Channel’s broadcast of footage from 9/11/01.  Whenever I walk through the room, it’s like a train wreck you see happening but can’t do a thing about–  I can’t help but look.  But I can’t just sit there and watch.

I have not forgotten.  I can never forget.  I can remember the expression on the man’s face who told me it was not a small plane that hit one of the towers–  nor was it an accident.  But I don’t even want to go into a minute-by-minute description of what I did when where or with whom.  I haven’t forgotten.  I just don’t feel the need to wallow in that time. 

My Dad was a bombardier in World War II.  He flew missions in B-24’s in North Africa and B-17’s out of England.  Before Dad died late last year, one of my nephews asked him how could he get into the plane every time, knowing what was in store.  “Easy,” Dad said, “I figured I was already dead anyway.” 

I remember as a kid, he said that he never even wanted to fly again.   One day he and I took a ride over to the County Airport.  MUCH to my amazement, we got INTO a small plane owned by a co-worker of his and went for a pleasant flight over the area where I grew up.  He flew several more times after that, even to England for a reunion of his bomber group at their old base. 

Dad was great fun to watch WWII movies with.  There would be fighters diving at bombers and Dad would come out with “That model of Focke-Wolf wasn’t out at that time!” or “That bomber group was in the Pacific then!”  When the movie Memphis Belle came out in 1990, he was persuaded to go see it.  Afterwards, I asked him if the film was accurate.  “Yes,” was his reply, “and I never want to see it again.”

That’s kind of the way I feel about 9/11 video.  Some day, I may feel the need to watch it all again. Today is not that day.

More Call Center Life

Thank you for calling Acme Cell Phone Customer Service, my name is Marah, may I have the cell phone number you are calling about?

I don’t know the number.

Sir, I can’t help you if I don’t know the number we’re dealing with.

I can give you the last four numbers of my Social Security number.

I’m sorry, sir, but that’s still not sufficient.

That’s OK `cause I just want to cancel the service.

I can’t do that either, sir, without knowing the number.

That’s why I want to cancel–customer service here stinks!!!!!

————————————————————
Thank you for calling Acme Cell Phone Customer Service, my name is Marah, may I have the cell phone number you are calling about?

555-555-5555

OK how may I help you??

My calls have been dropping the last couple of days.

I see from your account you live in an area that is currently experienceing a hurricane.  Have you considered the weather as a factor?

Why is it Fox Mulder can be buried in Arizona in a box car full of dead aliens, yet he can connect to Scully in Washington, D.C.  but you can’t guarantee me service in this over-grown thunderstorm?

————————————————————
Thank you for calling Acme Computer Customer Service, my name is Ishmael, how may I assist you?

Yeah this brand new computer is broken and I wanna refund.

OK may I have the serial number?  ########################  I see, sir, that he unit you have purchased is actually one of our refurbished models.  Would you like the number to technical support for that model?

What do you mean “refurbished?”

It’s a model that was returned to us for whatever reason, and our tech support personnel check it out, make sure that it’s in operational condition, and then is offered for sale through discount outlets.  May I ask where you purchased this computer?

Dewey Taykum’s Pawn Shop in the Bronx.

That’s not one of our approved outlets, sir. (Pause) Sir??

That stupid (edited) clown told me it was brand new!!  I’m gonna take this back there and (edited)!!  (MUCH more editing!)

Is there anything else I can do for you sir?

Yeah- watch for me on the evening news!!! (CLICK)

————————————————————
Thank you for calling Acme Computer Technical Support, my name is Ishmael, how may I assist you?

My computer won’t do anything.  It just sits there with the light flashing at the top of the screen.

What were you doing when this problem started, sir?

Well, my cousin told me that if I removed programs from my computer it would run faster, so I removed them all.

Excuse me?

Yeah, he told me about this command called “fdisk”, so I ran it and now my computer just sits there.

So you removed all of the files and programs from your computer?

Yeah.

And now it doesn’t work?

Yeah.

And now you want to know why?

Yeah.
————————————————————
Thank you for calling Acme Computer Technical Support, my name is Ishmael, how may I assist you?

Like, this computer is totally fried, man.

In what way, ma’am?

(Sound of tapping, as on a desk to or a mirror, followed by a long inhalation) The keys on the keyboard keep moving around, and I can’t ever seem to find my files where I left them.

Uh-huh.

And the display, like wow, man how do you guys get it to do that? (More tapping/inhalation) Oh wow that’s wild.

Oh-oh, looks like my blog has flat-lined

Two days and no one has even taken a peek.  Well, what do I expect when I don’t publish new stuff?

Hmmm…more Phone Follies?  Nah, not today.  I’m not out of stories, I just don’t have ay ready to spill out of my head.  Boy, I am REALLY coming up empty here!!! It’s not really writer’s block., just nothing has me really driven to write except the fact that I DON’T feel like writing about anything.

Back to The Vault.  In an earlier post or comment, I mentioned my e-mails at work.  They were my main release for frustration,with many people finding out about my sometimes contentious yet bizarre sense of humor.   One in particlar stands out in my memory as my favorite, to the extent that I’ve saved it. 

I’ve sanitized it, removing references to clients and employers, including the name of the team manager in question.   He has the same first and last name of a famous Hollywood movie director, which should be obvious from the body of the message:

From: Gxxxxx Lxxxx
Sent: Wednesday, December 06, 2006
To:  Ops-Desk
Subject: Schedule

 

                           Folks,  

•    It would be ever most helpful if I were to have something in my folder.  This is a new team being formed and I would like to be able to introduce myself to them and give them their schedules.  This would be most easily accomplished if I had the info.

• Thanks,
• By the way, my name is actually spelled GEORGE (with one “R”).

Dear George,

I heartily apologize for this omission when we did the schedules last night—apparently, “The Force” was not with us. The responsible peon has been flogged, driven into the cold wailing and gnashing her teeth while pathetically clinging to her few pitiful possessions, her family, goods and chattels sold and the money used to erect a monument to you with an engraved scroll detailing the insult you endured. Is that sufficient??

As for the misspelling of your name, I have yet to locate an instance where your name WAS misspelled—at least, not by this office. Perhaps you need to clean your glasses.

Now, perhaps, the few, the proud, this happy band known as “Gxxxxx Lxxxx’ Team” will be come acquainted with your magnificence, and thus be inspired on to great and heroic deeds to the greater glory of (our client), (our employer) and the United States of America.

 

Fortunately (I think) I was so proud of this opus that I showed it to my supervisor before sending it.  He was amused, but was not entirely certain that the manager-in-question would be, and “dissuaded”me from sending it.  Several of my co-workers likewise found it entertaining, including his daughter, who concurred with my supervisor’s assessment that the manager would not have been pleased. 

Many months later, after I had established a working rapport and friendship with this manager, I showed it to him.  He, understanding my sense of humor by this time, laughed.   Perhaps it did get better with age.