The Wisdom of Others

There's just a ton of stuff I'm catching up on - and while I could write up my thoughts on each, I'd just be wasting your time.

Here's a sampler of what I've been reading, and a teaser for each.

First, Blame The Lenders - Barry Ritholtz

There is a familiar odor to the “Blame the profligate Greeks” meme now circulating. It is little more than a brilliant marketing ploy. This distraction ignores the simple reality that lending to insolvent people, institutions and countries is first and foremost the fault of the lenders.


Let us start first with the Greeks, who lied their way into the EU (with the help Goldman Sach’s financial engineers). The ridiculous pay and vacation structure, the absurdly generous pension plan, the excessive spending by Athens. They are a nation that can honestly be described as tax scofflaws. Yes, Greece is a mess.


Which begs the question: WHO THE FUCK WOULD LEND A DIME TO THESE PEOPLE?

(H/t CJR)

The Wageless, Profitable Recovery - Steven Greenhouse, NYT

In their newly released study, the Northeastern economists found that since the recovery began in June 2009 following a deep 18-month recession, “corporate profits captured 88 percent of the growth in real national income while aggregate wages and salaries accounted for only slightly more than 1 percent” of that growth.

(H/t CJR)

Wisconsin Court Supremely Slippery - Brendan Beery

But the Wisconsin Supreme Court stated—citing another case from the same court from 1943—that a court cannot determine whether a law is constitutional until after it has been published because prohibiting its publication somehow interferes with the process of making law. (The idea here seems to be that although a court may rule that a law already made is unconstitutional, a court may not hold that the legislative branch has behaved in an unconstitutional way while making the law. Why this would be so is anyone’s guess.)


In support of this proposition, the court did no more than cite the antique case from 1943 and restate its premise. In so doing, as was noted in a stinging dissent, the court simply skipped right past more recent cases that seem to point in the opposite direction.


But more importantly, the court never explained how stopping the publication of a law interferes with the lawmaking process. By the time a law is ready for publication, it has already been made. No more committees will meet, no more floor debates will erupt, and no more drafting or editing will be undertaken. So, again, how does stopping the law from being published interfere with the process of making the law? If there is any intelligible answer to this question, the Wisconsin Supreme Court certainly could not have been bothered to provide it.

(H/t Illusory Tenant)

A Corporation, but not a Gableman, is a Person - Illusory Tenant

In the Wisconsin statutes, the distinction between the court's supervisory and original jurisdictions is codified by their separate numberings:
§ 809.70 and § 809.71. The Department of Justice chose the latter.


It would not have occurred to the Department of Justice to petition the court to take jurisdiction of an original action because Ozanne v. Fitzgerald could not, obviously, be an original action for the purposes of the Supreme Court's original jurisdiction. Hence the supervisory petition.

¶7 This court has granted the petition for an original action ...

No such petition existed, until the Gableman court manufactured it.

How Wal-Mart Swiped JPMorgan in $16 Billion Debit-Card Lobbying Battle - Phil Mattingly and Robert Schmidt, Bloomberg

(Via CJR)

It's hard to pull a single quote out of this one - it's pretty much a tale of powerful corporate interests waging political war. The right thing for consumers ends up happening, but only because it also happens to benefit retail operations who were wealthy enough to pay for a lobbying war.

...and there's this winner

Biggest Tax Avoiders Win Most Gaming $1 Trillion U.S. Tax Break - Jesse Drucker, Bloomberg

Cisco Systems Inc. (CSCO) has cut its income taxes by $7 billion since 2005 by booking roughly half its worldwide profits at a subsidiary at the foot of the Swiss Alps that employs about 100 people.


Now Cisco, the largest maker of networking equipment, wants to save even more -- by asking Congress to waive most federal taxes due when multinationals bring such offshore earnings home. Chief Executive Officer John T. Chambers has led the charge for the tax holiday, which would be the second since 2004. He says it would encourage companies to “repatriate” as much as $1 trillion held abroad, spur domestic investment and create jobs.

(H/t CJR)

He Fought the Law

(Via Naked Capitalism and 4ClosureFraud.com)

[NY homeowner Sunny] Sheu’s ordeal began over 10 years ago when a bank representative knocked on his door and said he was there to inspect the house for its new owner. The problem was that Sheu had never sold the house. It turns out that someone had forged critical documents and used them to illegally sell the property.

Sheu alerted all relevant authorities; including the police, the bank that held the mortgage, and the title insurer of the property. Eventually the parties involved in forging the documents were prosecuted, pleaded guilty to forgery, and went to jail.

Sheu hoped that with all the evidence in his favor, the matter would be quickly resolved–it was actually only the beginning of his nightmare.

But Centex Home Equity, the bank that held the original mortgage, acted as if the fraudulent sale had been legitimate, ignoring all the documentation submitted by Sheu regarding the fraud, including the police report he’d filed.

Centex filed a lawsuit on December 12, 2001, against Sheu in State Supreme Court, in Queens County. The bank wanted a default judgment on the property and foreclosure, claiming that the "new owners" were delinquent on mortgage payments. In reality, of course, there was never any legal "new owner".

The Centex case against Sheu went before Judge Golia, in Queens County. Sheu said he was stunned when Judge Golia also ignored the obvious fact that the "sale" had been fraudulent, which would obviate the claim against him. Instead of immediately restoring Sheu's rightful ownership, he said, Golia allowed the lawsuit to proceed, eventually leading to the foreclosure of Shue's home.

Mr. Sheu investigated the conduct of the judge, hoping to get him removed from the case.

On April 9th of 2010, he recorded the following statement:

Hi my name is Sunny Sheu. I have filed a complaint to the FBI and the New York State Unified Court Ethics Committee about Judge Joseph Golia [who] falsified his financial disclosure statement. And I have submitted evidence to the FBI recently. [The] FBI sent me [a] copy of the evidence that I sent to the FBI.


And today, April 9th, the Unified Court ethics director, Janice Howard, she called me [that] Judge Joseph Golia already amended his Financial disclosure statement. This means my evidence is true. At least that he was forced to amend (misrepresentations) on his financial disclosure statement.


For the security issues, for the security concerns, I make this recording, that if anything wrong goes to me, it should be come from Judge Golia and his people because before I had been kidnapped by his people, and threatened and intimidated by his people not to file a complaint against Judge Golia.


So I make this recording for safety. For protection. If anything wrong please go to Judge Golia and his people.


Thank you very much.

Two months later. Sunny Sheu was dead.

(H/t Trainreq)

Local Govt's to Secondary Lenders: Cough Up What You Owe

(Via Naked Capitalism)

Remember that whole MERS thing? Y'know the one where big lenders are too impatient and cheap to follow local laws about title transfer - so they make up a shell corporation so they can ignore the law?

Well, local govt's smell money they're owed - and they're suing.

“Defendants have not paid the Transfer Tax because they have claimed on the face of the documents they have recorded that the transaction is exempt from the Transfer Tax. They sometimes claim the transaction is exempt because they are government entities and, under Michigan statute, government entities are exempt. Other times they claim they are exempt pursuant to federal statute.

“Neither claimed exemption applies. Defendants are federally chartered private corporations and not government entities. Defendants’ federal law exemption from certain taxes does not include the Transfer Tax.”

Give 'em hell, folks. There's money in them thar hills!!

What's Missing?

Eli Pariser wants you to know that personalized content = a reality filter that you probably don't control, or even notice.



(H/t E)

We Didn’t Move The Paper. No One Moved The Paper.

If what you say is true, we’re f*cked. We didn’t move the paper. No one moved the paper.

So sayeth the head of one of the major subprime loan originators - speaking about the legal consequences of his industry not moving the paper - the mortgages and assigned notes - in the way that current law requires.

Hardly breaking news, but the fact is the "we're f*cked" scenario and its implications are a trillion dollar question writ large across the nation's residential mortgage market. What can be done to fix a situation that (on the face of it) appears to invalidate mortgages & their derived securities nationwide? Lenders like Countrywide appear to have held onto loan documents they were legally obligated to deliver to firms purchasing those loans.

The bonus round was banks presenting notes at time of foreclosure that were improperly endorsed - that is, they weren't signed over to the foreclosing party, yet were submitted by that party as evidence in support of a foreclosure proceeding. (emphasis added)

Although law enforcement should be able to answer the delivery question easily -- [Countrywide employee] DeMartini['s testimony] indicated that Bank of America has FedEx tracking records for each note -- it's impossible for the public to check. But the endorsement of notes is easy to test. In every foreclosure, the bank must give the court the note or an accurate copy of it. And those notes are either properly endorsed or they're not.

To check DeMartini's testimony, Fortune examined the foreclosures filed in two New York counties (Westchester and the Bronx) between 2006 and 2010. There were 130 cases where the Bank of New York (BK) was foreclosing on behalf of a Countrywide mortgage-backed security. In 104 of those cases, the loan was originally made by Countrywide; the other 26 were made by other banks and sold to Countrywide for securitization.

None of the 104 Countrywide loans were endorsed by Countrywide – they included only the original borrower's signature. Two-thirds of the loans made by other banks also lacked bank endorsements.

As numerous observers have pointed out, this is not a small thing, since -

• who holds the note determines who can foreclose
• who can (or can't) foreclose impacts whether or not a loan is secured or not; and
• whether a loan is secured or not determines whether or not it has value if the borrower has defaulted.

Add to that the percentage of home borrowers in default (around 9%) and those who owe more than their house is worth (around 23%) and you have the recipe for a very big mess heading toward this nation's bankruptcy courts.

Which is not to say, wow look at this breaking bit of news - but more like. How the F*ck is this time bomb still ticking away?

Thank You For Proving Our Point So Effectively

(Via The Big Picture)

I can only repeat Barry's take on this.
The Most Awesome Movie Theater DO NOT TEXT Announcement Ever!

(Oh, and NSFW)

Vancouver Pride

Look ma, I'm all growed up!

The National News has the full reel of riot pictures.

Y'know, it's one thing to be an idiot, but it's quite another to be so proud of being an idiot.

Crack Me Up

Conan O'Brien takes a page from Stephen Colbert and roasts Dartmouth with a brilliantly biting commencement address.




And for a follow up - here's Samuel L. Jackson delivering a forceful reading of the instant classic, Go the F*ck To Sleep:



(H/t E)

Lap. Appy

< Previous

Where Am I?

I'm in pain.

Ha, ha. Seriously...where am I?

I'm in the ER

Where's E?

She's on a boat in the Mediterranean

Where are the kids?

They're at MB's cookout. It ends in a few hours.

Will I make it back in time?

No. You're not going home tonight. They're going to be operating on you in about an hour.

I gotta call MB...

Damn right.

---

It's 5pm on a Sunday, and - in the race between pain meds and pain - pain is clearly pulling away. I call MB and level with him. "It's my appendix, I'm not going home until at least tomorrow. Can you get my kids?"

MB's all over it. His wife, K volunteers to take my kids home. They'll meet me to pick up my keys, get my car - and take my kids home. All things considered, I'm sure my kids will feel better sleeping in their own home.

I had a quick phone call with the kids to lay out what's going to happen. I tell them dad's going to have the same thing Madeline had. Little E wants to know if I'll have a scar. The Boy promises to be good.

Shortly afterwards, MB walks around the curtain and I'm giving him my keys. Jen's heading down from the cabin as backup. She'll head to my house and spell K.

Car is handled. Kids are handled through tomorrow.

I'm on the phone with Jen. She's inbound, should be arriving closer to 11pm. The surgical kickoff keeps moving back, but I'm on morphine - so I'm not tracking time anymore. The upshot I get is - she'll show up at the hospital at some time. Then she'll go over to my house and tap on the window until K lets her in.

MB and K have totally saved the day. All's I have to do is sit and wait.

Oh, and strip.

Because hospitals like that sort of thing. The orderly/nurse/guy-in-scrubs looks like Don Reese. Exactly the type you are comfortable disrobing for. Another guy in scrubs shows up and they get into a big discussion of what has to be done with my wedding band.

Another guy: It must come off.

Don Reese: I thought a single ring was okay.

Another guy: It must come off.

Don Reese: You'll need to run it up to the safe (subtext: you want it gone? Then it's your problem.)

Another guy: We can keep it with his clothes. (subtext: Nice try, but I'm willing to risk his stuff.)

Don Reese: That'll work (subtext: Neither of us does extra work? I like how you think.)

To my great shame, I'm more worried about my iPhone - It's going to be my lifeline for the next few days. I have bills to pay, work to notify, business time to track, and a bazillion other things that will require phone and internet. My phone disappears or (worse) gets dropped - and I'm useless and incommunicado.

Speaking of which, there's the matter of E.

My immediate reaction once I heard my diagnosis was Don't tell E. I have since gotten visceral reactions out of associates who believe this was unconscionable, unthinkable. How could you not tell your wife???!!!.

I mean, there's a certain amount of deception there, but really. I'm not in any dire peril - and there's F$%*-all she can do for me. And, if I know my wife, it would alter her behavior on a trip that'd she'd been looking forward to for months. The airlines had already lost her baggage, I'm thinking she doesn't need another distraction. Barring a freak occurrence in surgery - all that's going to happen is that I'm going to be laid up and logistically hosed for a few days. Like that's worth interrupting E's vacation for.

Besides, there's the not insignificant matter of international communication. They're on a boat. I could call and not get them, which means I'd get their voicemail. Which could (as has happened in the past) sit on a US server awaiting their phone's return before advertising its existence. You have a voicemail from...Two Weeks Ago. Then there's text. I've had international text take days. Or seconds. You never can tell. And this is not the kind of thing that summarizes well in 140 characters.

Hi hon. Don't worry, but I'm going in to have my appendix removed. Kids are fine. How are you?

No, that's suckage nobody needs. And distance makes any scenario worse.

I stuff my phone into the most secure and padded shorts pocket - then stuff them into the hefty bags the orderly gave me.

Belongings. Done.

I'm in one of those Godforsaken hospital robes, waiting for the inevitable.

I've been up for 36 hours and the pain is really starting to get to the jeezus-effing-christ stage - and the orderly's telling me it could be awhile.

I'm visited by the insurance person. The administrative person. The allergist. The person with still more forms. And somebody who claims to be my future surgeon. He looks like a skinny David Duchovny. He tells me that the CT wasn't as clear as all that - I might have any number of things (each more horrible than that last) but that he thinks it's most likely my appendix, he is obligated to tell me there is a small chance that I might have to have an appliance attached to my body for the rest of my life.

But he's pretty sure that won't happen. He just needed to tell me.

Because some lawyer thought it was necessary.

---

Once again, a bit of an aside here for people who think health care is analogous to other consumer goods. I came to this hospital because I could find it, and because I'd been here before. Were I the type to price shop for the only procedure I thought I would have - A CT scan - I could have spent an hour or so before deciding which of the three major hospitals in my area had the best deal on a CT. That is theoretically possible. Hospitals don't exactly have price lists and help lines for these things, but let's pretend I made calls and achieved a miraculous quintet, to wit:

1. I reached actual human beings on the phone; who
2. were helpful; and
3. knowledgeable; and
4. honest; and
5. permitted to disclose what they know..

The odds would be against me, but I can't say that it would have been impossible. I could have shopped around for a good deal.

But what WOULD have been impossible was my shopping around to find the best price and service for an appendectomy. Because I had no idea what procedure I would need. No idea at all. Fix in your mind how hard it would be to get a personalized price quote for a known procedure like a CT from multiple providers. Then imagine what kind of mind-shattering complexity would be involved in getting a price quote from those same hospitals for the possible treatments associated with "male, persistent abdominal pain."

Good.
    Effing.
        Luck.

---

Back to the ER - I get shifted from one bed to one more mobile, and Another Guy returns to drive me up to surgery.

Game time.

I lumber onto the new, sportier bed. And Another Guy starts his Trekkie routine. Asks me if I want sublight or warp speed.

No. Really. That's what he asks me.

I opt for warp speed. Because it will get this over with sooner; and also - I like rainbows.

So, enter the clichéd, yet completely unavoidable sequence where a drug-addled field of vision cycles through a seemingly endless pattern:

Ceiling tile, light...

Just like the movies.

Tile, tile, tile, light. Tile, tile, tile, light...

And the occasional bump, that re-ignites abdominal fires I'd almost forgotten.

Another Guy apologizes for the first few bumps, then gives up as we plow over what could only be a gravel road with chuckholes.

Tile, tile, tile, light. Tile, tile, tile, light...Turrrrrrrrrrrn

The bed caroms off the back of an elevator.

AG's apologizing again.

I'm drugged, I can get away with anything.

Damn you, Sulu...

AG laughs, then bangs the bed off the wall a few more times before the doors close.

He hands me off to somebody I can't see and wishes me well. I'm wheeled into a wide room lit like a cathedral. It's focal point is another bed with skinny extensions so your arms can rest while sticking out sideways.

I think They killed Sean Penn on one of these things...

and then,

These are really, really good drugs.

I feel like cracking wise about Susan Sarandon - but the two masked men don't seem like they've been properly primed for humor.

There's some polite chit chat - and then -

Tile, tile, tile, light. Tile, tile, tile, light...

I'm in a room with two orderlies. They're loud and annoying - complaining about work as if there's nobody in the world here.

But I'm here.

They talk about how they need to move me to another bed, and they need a hand, and how typical it is that they can't find anyone to help.

So I sit and listen.

And they go on and on about how they hate this duty - and their shift - and how they might go about moving me to another bed without the help they need.

Another bed slaps up next to the one I'm on.

Some guy comes by, and these orderlies latch on to him "Hey! Give us a hand here!"

Some Guy apparently meets their qualifications for moving post-operative patients. He's in the vicinity.

Of all the people I met in the hospital, these two orderlies and Some Guy were the only people who truly pissed me off (And I'm including the lady who catheterized me).

Rolled me over, and dragged me over to a new bed like they were slinging a pork belly. I'm confident I made several unpleasant noises and yelled "Hey!" but I was completely ignored. Their griping went on without missing a beat. Because to them - I wasn't there.

But I was there.

Another Guy returns and I'm actually glad to hear him. Suddenly, Jen's there in the hallway, too. And I'm rattling off a standup routine like it ain't no thang. Because it's Jen. And Jen's always a good crowd.

I'm wheeled into some room. Jen and I make some small talk and she basically leaps onto the logistics grenade.

She'll go over to my house tonight and spell K, then hang out with the kids on Memorial Day.

Memorial Day... Damn... No cookout. And I'm sure to be on a liquid diet for the foreseeable. Double damn.

Jen's saying she's set through the next two days - so that's a ton off my mind. She wants contact info for L and I fire it off, they can confab and sort things far better than I can. Surgery's the first sleep I've had in 40 plus hours, and I'm sure I'm going to black out soon.

My kids are good for the next two days. My friends are awesome. My sister is awesome.

They hook me up to the CPAP machine and before the rush of air slams up my nose I hear my nurse chuckle while reading my chart.

Whazzat?

She laughs. "Apparently you had a 'horrible' appendicitis. Usually we don't editorialize."

I don't get it, so she shows me my chart, and there it is:

 

Well, good, I say. No sense doing things halfway.

A short time later, sleep does everyone a favor - and shuts me up.

Now It Can Be Told

Okay, with E back in the country and fully briefed – This post is now possible.

---

So, it’s the day after E goes to the Med (of course, United manages to lose their bags and delay them to the point that they all but miss out on Venice. Anytime anyone tells you how incredibly efficient private companies are – tell them to fly on an American Air Carrier.)

Anyways, I’m loving the idea of soaking up some serious dad time. Yes, it’s going to be non-stop, but the fact of the matter is, my morning commute won’t change a bit. I’ll just have to be creative about getting grocery runs in.

I begin with a Day of Yes. The kids are always asking to do things, and the typical parental response is “no.” No, you can’t play computer. No you can’t watch another movie. And so on. I get them a decent pancake breakfast to butter them up and declare that we’re going to get outside today. And we need to return some library books.

The Boy immediately responds with “Let’s walk to the library!” Normally, this would be a reflexive ‘no’, but this is the Day of Yes. “Okay, but we should pack some water and an umbrella, just in case.”

He’s out the door and halfway down the block with his sister before I manage to find a backpack. The library is two miles away, so this is a bit of a hoof for little E, but she gets her complaints out early in the first block and doesn’t look back. The Boy launches into a window game, where windows of different sizes are worth different points and soon he’s a bazillion points in the lead.

The day is muggy, but the temp is decent and soon we’re at the Library. I’ve been nursing a stomach bug for the past few days, so I find a chair to flop into. I fire up the iPhone to search for Newberry award winners and the kids begin a coloring jag that lasts for easily a half an hour. I find the books I want, the Boy makes his selections – and I get the replacement card I need. We’re out the door and hoofing it home. Great times.

Little E announces late in the walk that she needs a restroom and we’re doing a rapid job to the nearest restaurant, a microbrewery. I forgot that U is coming by to watch the FC Barcelona match, so we’re going to be joining things in progress (thank heavens for DVRs).

We make the microbrewery just in time to avoid unpleasantness – and I flirt with ordering something mild for my stomach (yogurt or something) before just taking the cure or kill approach and getting fish and chips.

We’re hoofing it back home to meet with U for the game, and I can tell the lunch choice was a bad one. No pain, just a dull, weighty sensation that tells me that my guts are not happy with me. So be it.

Home. We meet up with U – watch Barca beat on the Red Devils until the Red Devils fold (Suck it, Giggs!) and a good time is had by all.

U is back to his hotel and the kids and I have a mellow evening with easy prep leftovers and settle into our books. I read them The Tale of Despereaux, and the kids seem hooked when we stop around chapter 5.

They get to bed, I dust off my newly acquired WFRP stuff for a run through – and I reflect on the day.

Not bad, Dad. Sure, it’s only one day, but no screaming or snarling. We had a lot of fun, and we didn’t break the bank on silly stuff. I’m looking forward to Sunday – when we have a birthday party and a cookout to round things out. The Boy’s totally jazzed about playing with one of his buddies at the cookout.

About the time I finish a small run through (good God, does WFRP have lots of bits!) I realize it’s about midnight.

One full day of single dad-dom down, I turn in. My back is killing me, probably from the walk, so it takes about 30 minutes to find a good position to rest.

Right about the time that subsides, by gut starts to ache.

In the normal run of things, whatever it was would subside to the point where I could pass out and have in mend by the morning.

But it doesn’t. And it doesn’t feel like a normal stomach ache. It feels lower than that – and somehow more in the front. And it doesn’t quit.

By about 3 in the morning, after having tried walking around, distracting myself, and acetaminophen – I start theorizing. Had some bad fish? …Gas pains? I seriously consider leaving my two sleeping children in bed and driving to the pharmacy to get some medicine. (I had thoughtfully thrown out virtually all our meds for being past their exp dates, but did I replace them? NooOoOOoooo.)

I just can’t abide leaving the kids alone, and it’s three in the damn morning. So I’m stuck.

I go downstairs and read the intro to The Looming Tower to pass the time. Mostly I wait for the sun to come up. When it finally does, the morning routine serves as a decent distraction. Breakfast, clothes and shoes. I tell the kids we’re headed to the store to buy their friend a birthday present before the party. And get meds. Because the gut hasn’t let up once since 1am.

The kids prolong the departure in their usual way, so that we’re leaving the store almost right before it’s time to drive out to the birthday party. I pop the meds and enjoy a few moments of placebo relief before the pain is back.

It is becoming clear that whatever it is – is not going away with time or medication. I have visions of being at home, unable to drive, with two small children. Drama, I tell myself. And I pull into the party. It’s a gymnastic party, so the kids can get some jump around time. Something that makes bedtime sooOOooo much easier. I go to the observation lounge and the kids are clearly loving it.

I try and fail to find a comfortable chair/position. And there’s that voice in my head saying: It’s just you and two little kids. And you need to get this sorted out. Other parents are leaving their kids at the party, so I check in with the birthday girl’s mom and say, “I need to go to urgent care. I’ll be back in an hour unless they physically restrain me.” Birthday girl’s mom is about as unflappable a person as I’ve met. She’s like, “One way or another, we’ll work it out.”

I lumber off to urgent care. It’s about 1pm and I’ve been up since 6am yesterday. Oh, and my gut hurts. I start a timer on my phone to know when I need to get back. The folks at urgent care are very helpful. No solid answers, they’ll take some samples but the results will take time. I tell them I have to leave in twenty minutes and they get my cell number to call me. They offer no good theories, I’m still thinking I ate something that’s lodged in me in some painful way. I’m out the door with minutes to spare.

And I’m back at the party. The kids are having a grand old time. There’s cake and whip cream, and kids to goof off with, what’s not to love? I chat with BG’s uncle for awhile, and it’s time to go. I’ve got a little over an hour and a half before the cookout. It’s dawning on me that I’m not going to be feel like eating anything – which is a serious downer. Holiday weekend grill out and my stomach’s down for the count. Major suckage.

I go home. Mom’s asked me to help them chase down where their baggage disappeared to. I call United, and get the standard “You need to call Lufthansa, since they were the last air carrier on their itinerary.” I point out the bags were lost because United canceled the flight and re-routed them all over hell’s half acre. Eventually, the guy settles on giving me all the numbers and codes his system has on their bags, and I text them to mom and E.

It’s about 3pm when urgent care calls. They tell me that the results weren’t terribly conclusive. White blood cell count is up a little, but not enough where they’re thinking appendicitis (thank heavens), but that since I’m in constant pain, they’re thinking I should get a CT.

I’m like, Okay, when should we get that set up? Tomorrow’s a holiday…and-

Her response was immediate – “You should go to the ER. Today.”

This is the first moment that I realize things are really going south in a hurry.

I call the folks with the cookout and ask if they wouldn’t mind having my kids run around their cookout without me for a few hours. Being incredibly cool, they’re like “No problem.” They even invite me over early, before things start.

Between fatigue and pain – the day is starting to take on the quality of Ray Liotta’s last day of freedom in Goodfellas. The world is rushing into my head uncontrollably and I’m doing my best to ignore all but the essential details.

Drop. Kids. Off.

Get. To. ER.

---

If I may digress a bit here. I would like to point out something of interest to those who follow health care policy. As of this point in my day, I was actively seeking out a medical procedure. I became a consumer of health care. Yet I was in no way exhibiting behavior of a cost-conscious consumer. At no time did cost enter into my calculations. I have no knowledge of what a CT would, could, or should cost. I wanted to get to the closest ER I could find. As I have been to the local Catholic hospital’s ER in the past, I was sure I could find it. So I went there.

---

Thirty minutes later, I’m in an ER bed being compelled to drink four big glasses of stuff that was labeled barium, but was actually some other CT-necessitated liquid that tasted like instant lemonade. I’m on the iPhone keeping tabs with the kids and generally keeping folks in the loop.

And I wait, wince, and drink crappy CT-Lemonade. Soon enough, I’m being ritually stripped and fed through the CT machine. I felt removed from the entire experience, rather like inferring reality from a blurry penumbra. And this was without drugs.

Post CT, they give me drugs. A far too exuberant resident announces that every day on his rotation this week, somebody’s had an appendicitis. He’s saying odds are, it’s my appendix or a kidney stone. Kidney stone…. That’s the first time that possibility was raised and I decide it makes the most sense. I’ve had pain off and on for two weeks now (now that I think about it), and the pain seems low enough to be bladder related. Aw…hell. I get a text from Jen, and I give her the update.

Not to be dramatic, but I’m in the ER. Holiday weekend and I need to know what’s what. I’ll get a test and we’ll see what the deal is. Not an emergency, but I can’t wait and wonder with E gone.

Jen offers to come down from the cabin, and I tell her to hold off until I get the results of the CT. My money’s on kidney stone I tell her. Because that’s the one that will hurt more.

And shortly after I make that pronouncement, the resident comes back. “It’s an appendicitis.”

I’m drugged, so I come back with “You’re sure you’re not just going for the record?”

He laughs, “Nah. Your surgeon will be here in a few minutes.”

Like a series of punches, reality catches up with me. My wife is in the Mediterranean, my kids are at a friend’s house, and I’m in the ER being prepped for surgery.

And the only thing running through my dead tired, chemically-laced brain is:

After all these years - I still got it. A perfect sense of timing.

Next >

Death To Wallets

Rewind to a couple of weeks ago.

I'm in a hardware store and the cashier is asking me if I'm a member of their rewards program.

I lie. "No"

Why do I do this? Because my hands are full. I've got my stuff under one arm and have my wallet out. The plastic rewards card is on my keychain.
If I say yes, I have to do something with my wallet and debit card, and then dig in my pocket. Then sift through my keychain and isolate the appropriate plastic card so it can be scanned.

Sure, not a huge hassle, but when we're talking about a $7 purchase of wood screws and glazing compound - it's hard to find motivation to bother.
Plus, the rewards plan isn't money off - it's points that accumulate over time to earn like $5 off. I think. All these plans are different in details.

But all of them have a similar process.

You trade hassle for a small reward that may or not be relevant or available to your purchase.

---

Now I'm at Borders, being asked the same question. I have their card as well. Mine's beat up as all hell, and sometimes doesn't scan. The backup plan at Borders is to give your email address to be credited with the purchase. A good backup, but also hassle. And Borders basic rewards plan gives you "Borders Bucks" that expire. How the hell do I know how many bucks I have? or when they'll expire? Oh, I know- I'll log into their website and do it because that's what I enjoy doing with my copious spare time. Logging into vendor's websites.

Gah.

Trading hassle for a small reward that may or not be relevant or available to your purchase - a reward that will go away if you don't use it.

---

Now I'm in a local hobby store. They also have a rewards program. You get points or something. And games at hobby stores cost respectable amounts of money, so I'm motivated to find my card. And it is an actual card, not on my keychain. As I use it practically never it's not in the limited number of ready access slots in my wallet.

It's buried, or at home. There are people behind me, so after a minute or two of looking for it I give up and just say "forget it." The merchant writes a note on the receipt so that if I find it later, I can get credit for the purchase.

Now I have to keep the receipt. Keeping is easy - it will instantly become buried in the sheaf of tattered paper bits I keep in my wallet. Ostensibly this is "organizing" but really it's just merging with garbage I carry around until I lose my patience and pitch it en masse. And I'll be out the loyalty reward.

---

So what's the point of all this? Rewards programs are great, but require the user to carry around a stack of cards AND dig them out at the right time AND keep track of what benefits are available to them at a given time AND when they expire.

Also, and I say this all the time - Paper receipts are stupid.

Much as the Apple store stuff annoys me - they have one thing right - they email you the receipt.

I've said over and over that a million dollar idea would be for somebody to consolidate the rewards interface - get the merchants to standardize on a common fob so the user only had one thing to carry around and manage.

I was thinking small - and clearly brighter minds have been working on this, but here's a great leap forward for individual commercial transactions.

Buying things with your cell phone.

Yes, well *duh* - but the mere transfer of money isn't what I getting at. This video shows Google Wallet looking like it’s about to kick Apple's transactional butt unless they get it in gear.

Google Wallet's using Near Field Communication to exchange payment and authentication data with a merchant's receiver. Which is plenty awesome right out of the gate.
Google Wallet stores your credit card info so your phone becomes your credit cards. Less crap in wallet. Hell, less reason to even have a wallet.



But this is the tip of the iceberg as far as I'm concerned. Because think of the plug in app potential here. Every damn vendor with a reward program can now offer an app that coattails on any transaction your phone kicks off.

As in:

Smart Phone: Hi anybody out there?
Cash Register: Why, yes. I'm a Borders cash register. Are you the party wanting to buy this copy of The Looming Tower?
Smart Phone: That's me! Here's my payment information.
Cash Register: Excellent, are you a Borders Rewards member?
Smart Phone: Yes, I am. Here's my member number. XXXXXXXXXX
Cash Register: Thank You. Your payment is confirmed. I've emailed you a receipt. And here's your updated reward status.

Smart Phone (to me, on the phone's display): Payment (Less 10% discount) Confirmed. Receipt sent via email.
Smart Phone (to the Borders Rewards App installed on it): Here's a Borders Reward status code. Any news?
Borders Reward App:: Thanks. Checking. Yes. This account now has 10 Borders Bucks, expiring on July 5, 2011.
Smart Phone (to me, on the phone's display): You now have 10 Borders Bucks, expiring on July 5, 2011.

From my perspective, this goes down in a self checkout lane.

I put the book on a scanner, wait for the book price to display on the terminal.
I launch the payment app, hold my phone up to the reader, and press "Accept"
There's a blip and I see:

Smart Phone (to me, on the phone's display):Payment (Less 10% discount) Confirmed. Receipt sent via email.
You now have 10 Borders Bucks, expiring on July 5, 2011.
Me: Sweet!

I no longer have to manage the rewards program. It becomes an integral part of the transaction. I pay, and all the reward crap happens automatically.

And I no longer have a keychain festooned with plasti-sh!t.
And I don't have to pretend to care about my receipt. If I need it, I'll search Gmail.

The App can even (assuming I let it) alert me to the fact that I have Borders Bucks as I begin the transaction.

Smart Phone (to me, on the phone's display): You have unused Borders Bucks, do you wish to apply them to this purchase?
Me: Sweet!

Frequent Flyer miles, Rental car rewards, Frequent Burrito rewards at Qdoba - all pushed to the background so all's I do is pay and the software tells me what I've won.

This must happen. I am directing my mental powers into the universe and WILLING this to happen.

I will pitch my vendor plastic into a fire and dance a jig when it does.

She Only Sang Two Words

I'm flipping to network (yes, I know) to find out if mother nature is about to rip my house off the face of the earth and I blunder onto (yes) America's Got Talent.

And someone's singing Ave Maria. Young African-American woman with white dreadlocks.

The marquee identifies her as:

Lys Agnès, 27
Unemployed

She's done in less than two minutes and as I said, she sings only two words  ...but how she sang them!

Jeezus, Mary and Joseph - she blew the roof off the place.

Here's the YouTube.

She already has a website "coming soon," so this is perhaps a well-managed PR undercurrent. But screw it, she sings like that and has some range - she will sell music - and lots of it.

Syria Circling the Drain

With things such a mess, it's hard to know much for certain.

But it's beginning to sound like Syria could go the way of Lybia.

The people of Syria no doubt remember Hafez al-Assad slaughtering thousands of them back in Hama, yet they are gearing up for more confrontation.

For their sakes, I hope Bashar al-Assad is nothing like his father.

Stewart vs. Trump's Pizza

Doubtless most anyone who reads this has already seen this, but if I can be the safety net for the odd case that hasn't - this simply must be seen.



I laughed until it hurt, then rewound and did it again.

Dear God, I think something burst.

In Italy, the Age of Consent is 14

This and other appalling facts about Italy can be found in The New Yorker's very thorough rundown of the Burliosconi affair(s)

Yikes.

(H/t The Awl)

Citizen's United Paradox

Love this:

If human beings can make direct campaign contributions... and if, in Citizens United’s interpretation... corporations and human beings are entitled to equal political speech rights, then corporations must also be able to contribute within (the federal) limits.

So... If I go the other direction on this and say either individuals are allowed to make unlimited political donations - or corporations are limited to the individual limits.  Which is it?

Blarrrgh.

The SEAL's Dog Was Named Cairo

...one of the tidbits of info in the AP's account of the Bin Laden raid.

The Black Hawks were specially engineered to muffle the tail rotor and engine sound, two officials said. The added weight of the stealth technology meant cargo was calculated to the ounce, with weather factored in. The night of the mission, it was hotter than expected.
The Black Hawks were to drop the SEALs and depart in less than two minutes, in hopes locals would assume they were Pakistani aircraft visiting the nearby military academy.

One Black Hawk was to hover above the compound, with SEALs sliding down ropes into the open courtyard.

The second was to hover above the roof to drop SEALs there, then land more SEALs outside — plus an interpreter and the dog, who would track anyone who tried to escape and to alert SEALs to any approaching Pakistani security forces.

If troops appeared, the plan was to hunker down in the compound, avoiding armed confrontation with the Pakistanis while officials in Washington negotiated their passage out.

Ensign's Other Shoe Drops

(Via TPM)

BREAKING: Senate Ethics committee actually does something. Gives its report on frm. Sen. Ensign to the Dept. of Justice for criminal investigation.

It's still too early to cheer, but most times you wouldn't even get this much out of the Senate.

And seriously, read the report. Here's a sample:

Mr. Hampton found out about the affair on December 23, 2007, while he and his wife were on the way to the airport to pick up their son for the holidays. Senator Ensign was in a separate car on the way to the airport to greet the Hamptons son as well. While waiting in his car as Ms. Hampton went to pick up their son s girlfriend from her home on the way to the airport, Mr. Hampton saw that his wife left her cell phone in the car and he viewed a text message from Senator Ensign to Ms. Hampton that made clear an affair was occurring. Press reports indicate the text message stated “How wonderful it is ... Scared, but excited.”

When Ms. Hampton came back to the car, Mr. Hampton stated “I know what you and John are doing.” Mr. Hampton then called Senator Ensign and said that he knew what was happening. Senator Ensign did not inform Darlene Ensign at the time. When the cars were parked in the airport parking lot, Mr. Hampton jumped out of his car and chased Senator Ensign in the airport parking lot. Ms. Hampton went into the airport and sat there for “hours.” Ms. Hampton later took a taxi back to her home. Once she was home, Mr. Hampton sought to get the couples together to talk about what occurred.

On December 24, 2007, the Hamptons went to the Ensigns’ home, and the four adults met in Senator Ensign s home office. Both Senator Ensign and Ms. Hampton stated that the affair would stop, and Senator Ensign wept and apologized. The Ensigns and Hamptons then had a meeting with their children. The families then celebrated Christmas together. According to Ms. Hampton, had Senator Ensign stopped pursuing her at that time, as he had committed to do before both families, the affair would have ended at that time.

In January 2008, Senator Ensign began texting Ms. Hampton again, and the affair resumed. Ms. Hampton was very despondent during this time frame. Senator Ensign gave Ms. Hampton $3,000 in cash to purchase items for herself and to use for hotel rooms in Las Vegas that Ms. Hampton reserved in her name at his request for their clandestine meetings, because “it always had to be under my name, it could never be under his name.” 

Owch.

So, When Does Your Home Purchase Pay Off?

The NYT has an outstanding calculator for determining if renting is better than buying.

Kinda makes me wish I'd seen it before I'd bought.

Scrub With Precision

The NYT posted a number of iPhone tips, most of which were kinda...whatever, but I did appreciate this one:

FORWARD AND REWIND When listening to audio or watching video, you probably know that you can move through the song/movie by sliding your finger left and right across the progress bar. But if you slide your finger down and then across, you can move at different speeds, allowing you to advance or rewind with increasingly fine control.

Solid! I'm tired of scrubbing past the good bits.

Why Explore?

XKCD's got your answer:

The universe is probably littered with the one-planet graves of cultures which made the sensible economic decision that there's no good reason to go into space--each discovered, studied, and remembered by the ones who made the irrational decision.

(H/t Bad Astronomy)

Mission Accomplished

So we got him.

ABC is showing pics of a bloody bedroom scene that suggests at least a couple of the four people killed in the raid were killed there. 1am local time. Stands to reason that somebody might have been sleeping.

I'd make four observations.

• Obviously, a huge win for our side. No way you're going to convince me that this hasn't been forefront in the minds of our intelligence arm for nine plus years. Statements by our political class saying this guy wasn't important were just because we weren't finding him. Rather like saying Saddam wasn't important - until we got him.
• Pakistan military = total liars, in more ways than one. Whether its the "We had no idea he was here" bunk we're hearing now - or the "We don't help the Americans" they tell their own citizenry - there's just way too much in plain sight to believe either.
• Nothing against those people dancing at Ground Zero, or in front of the White House - and while I'm certainly pleased that Bin Laden is dead, I have to think that even if I lived right next to those places, I wouldn't find myself going out to dance in celebration of UBL's death.
  
  Once you get a few yells out, what do you do? Are there pro-death chants?? Weird.
  
• -and then there's this

Check out this guy's windows:

Dude's the most wanted man in the world and he's got swankier windows than I do.

Marking Time

Do this or you don't get paid.

That's the motivation behind a tightly defined set of tasks in CorpWorld. Sure, in a larger sense, if you don't do your daily work - you probably shouldn't get paid. But in actual fact, the only tasks where inaction could have immediate financial consequences involve documenting exactly how many hours you worked since the last time you got a paycheck.

When I used to work for the state, we had a timecard. We walked in the door, pulled the card with our name on it and stuck it into the clock. There was a satisfying *ka-chunk!* and our card went back in its holder. When you left work, you did the same thing.

And some poor schlub would collect the cards at end of two weeks, do the math, and print up everybody's checks.

Certainly not the most efficient process. With a lot of cards and manual math, it took time and was error prone. Additional time was required to audit the numbers and make sure there were no mistakes.

-But the effect on each worker was pretty modest. A few seconds each day on the way in or out

In CorpWorld, my time tracking has been brought into the modern age. Here's what I do to get paid:

At the end of each week, I:

1. Log into a secure website
2. Create a new timecard
3. Type in an amount of time for each day of the week.
4. Save the resulting timesheet to PDF
5. Print the PDF
6. Sign the timesheet
7. Walk the timesheet down to my manager's office (3 floors down)
8. Get my manager to sign it
9. Fax a copy to an 800 number at headquarters
10. Fax another copy to a local office
11. Scan a copy of the signed timesheet to PDF
12. Email the scanned timesheet to my manager

I know, you're asking - why fax and email? Because the recipients at those locations do not accept other methods. And if any of these recipients don't get what they want when they want it - my direct deposit will be delayed. I know this because one time my manager and I were out on successive days and I missed the window. Instead of a deposit in my bank accost, I received a stored value card via express mail (for the record, SVCs = sucky way to move money).

Then there's the matter of my employer knowing what I'm working on. Yes, I was here for 40 hours last week, but what did I actually do?. We have a typical (read: user-vicious) timekeeping system where I log in, and enter a breakdown of what categories of tasks I worked on each day.

Right now, I am working on a colossus of a project - so virtually all of my time goes to one of two categories: Big Project-Specific Tasks and Big Project-Administrative Tasks. The amounts I put in these categories almost never change.

Aside from those, I have two other categories Non-Big Project-Administrative Tasks and Ad hoc stuff - the amounts I can put in either of these are strictly enforced. If I go over, I will hear about it.

If I don't enter all of my time by the end of the week, I will hear about it - from multiple people. The level of granularity allows interested managerial types to look at a report and say, "this guy logs a lot of hours to the Big Project," but not a whole lot else.

Enter time tracking system number three - which I'll call Racer. Racer supports a more granular analysis of what I'm doing on the Big Project. At some point, I'm given a set of tasks - and I estimate how long each will take. At the end of each day, I'm supposed to log into Racer (which helpfully does not support single sign on- and bars the ability to remember its log in credentials. Oh, and it throws a Certificate Error because of how it's installed.). After logging in I decrease the number of hours left for each task I worked on.

So, one of my tasks is estimated at 10 hours. That day, I work on it for two hours. End of the day I log into Racer and drop the task's remaining hours to 8.

The next day, something blows up and I spend four hours working on it. Consensus is reached, but there is not a lot of progress towards the ultimate completion. I log in, and leave the number at 8. I am not allowed to update the original estimate of 10. I strongly suspect that this is not how Racer is intended to be used, but it's irrelevant in any case. The task sits at 8 because that's what is left to do.

At some point, I will be asked by a colleague on Big Project to help them with something. Were I a mindless process monkey, I would say "Give me a task in Racer, and I can help you." That is what is expected, but at the point where they are asking, it's unclear how long helping them will take. I say "Sure, I'll help." And three hours later, I've lost a good part of my day, but they have what they needed and we both feel good. But now I have to account for those hours. I have no specific task in Racer, and if I follow the rules I should ask my team leader for one.

Being me, I do. They spend ten minutes explaining how involved it would be to add another task. Technically, it will not take long, but they need approval to create a new task for me - and they're not sure they'll be able to get it approved. They say, for three hours you can probably just roll it into your existing tasks. If it's recurring work, I should get a new task. As I'm pretty sure this was a one off thing - I leave it at that.

Racer is tracking progress on three tasks for me, so I consider logging into Racer to say "nothing happened" but it will do that automatically. So I don't log in.

At the end of the week - I have worked 40 hours, and spent a little more than 2 hours logging, printing, faxing, scanning, emailing, authenticating, re-logging with greater detail, re-authenticating, re-re-logging with still greater detail.

And while I'm not at all confident that the resulting muddle of data will be an accurate reflection of what happened in the past week, I am certain of one thing:

I will get paid on time.

Sen Ensign = Gutless

(Via the NYT)

Senator John Ensign’s resignation letter allows him to leave office just one day before he was to have to answer questions under oath about whether a $96,000 payment to the family of his former lover was illegal, designed to keep the affair from becoming public, according to people familiar with an investigation of Mr. Ensign’s activities.

That formal testimony scheduled for May 4 was the final step as Senate investigators prepared for what were almost certain to be Senate ethics charges against Mr. Ensign, Republican of Nevada. Mr. Ensign’s resignation is effective May 3.

Nice.

Now how about prosecuting this guy once he leaves office, eh?

This sort of "Oh, well if you're serious - Well, then I quit" crap has got to stop.

Time Traveller? Doomed

...that is unless they know a hell of a lot about celestial mechanics.

(Via Buzzfeed)

Mukhtaran Mai

Mukhtaran Mai, the woman who gained international respect by courageously standing up to a Pakistani tribal system that sanctions rape of innocent women and girls as punishment for the crimes of others, has once again been let down by her government.

The high court in Lahore struck down the convictions of 5 of her six attackers and commuted the death sentence of the sixth to life imprisonment.

Mukhtaran Mai now fears for her life.

Ye gods.

Two Ghosts

Recently, CorpWorld has implemented a voice mail system that is further proof that money and brains are no defense against a corporate tendency to build crap.

It’s feature rich, part of an expensive phone upgrade – and (I’m sure) was part of an elaborate focus group study.

Still, it manages to foul up the two most common tasks in voice mail.

1. Listen to new voice mail
2. Delete the voice mail you just listened to

All other tasks are secondary to these two items. All paths leading to these tasks should be shortened as much as possible.

Here is the path to task 1:

1. Sit at desk.
2. Notice flashing indicator on phone.
3. Press Messages
4. Enter your extension and password followed by the pound key

Right there – I have to type my extension AND my password. As extensions in CorpWord are typically long – this adds effort and opportunity to screw up before you even have to authenticate. While this may be a security/remote access feature – my extension is listed ON my phone, so removing the ability to automatically and unerringly enter the originating extension is simply a (poor and wasteful) design choice.

Then there’s the phone menu:

Welcome to voice mail for extension [my extension] -To retrieve your voice mail messages, press 1 -To send a voice message, press 4 -To manage your personal options, press 5 -To access the company private directory, press 6 -To change mail folders, press 8 -To return to the previous message, press the star key -For an operator, press zero

I’m an infrequent user (virtually nobody calls me) so I have to wait until I hear the end of the second sentence before I hit “1”

You have 1 new voice mail message. You have no saved voice mail messages.

To listen to new voice mail messages, press 1
To listen to saved voice mail messages, press 2
To listen to today’s voice mail messages only, press 3
To return to the previous message, press star

Okay. I have one new message and I’ve hit a menu item that says “retrieve your voice mail messages” A low use user like myself would like to be hearing my new message by now – but the person who is buried in messages might want the other options. Fair enough.

But reciting the option to listen to saved messages, when the system has just said there are no such messages wastes everybody’s time, no?

If I hit 1, I’m expecting my message to start playing.

Instead I get:

First message
Received
eleven
oh
four
AM
today
from
one
five
five
five
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven

And then the message finally starts playing. That’s an awful lot of dead air time before I find out if (as is often the case) this is a wrong number or misdirected call.

The system is integrated with the corporate email system, so you get an email about the message that looks like this:

Subject: VoiceMail from 0 [Company building] [unknown phone number] - 86 seconds

Body:
Directory Info
[city] [state]
Call Log
11:04:27: Initializing
11:04:27: Offering
11:04:27: [unknown system abbreviation #1]: [unknown phone number]
11:04:27: [unknown system abbreviation #2]: [unknown 5 digit number]
11:04:27: Call answered
11:04:28: [unknown 5 digit number] - [Company] Switchboard CST
11:04:28: Business Hours [hour] AM - [hour] PM
11:04:30: Switchboard Processing
11:04:30: Set Remote Name
11:04:30: [acronym] QueueName - Switchboard
11:04:30: [acronym] NoUsersAction
11:04:30: [acronym] NoUsersXferNumber
11:04:30: [acronym] UserLoggedIn - Switchboard
11:04:30: Transfer to [Company] Customer Telephone Center
11:04:34: Offering
11:04:34: Entered [unknown workgroup] Telephone Center
11:04:34: [unknown acronym] - Wait [user]
11:04:34: [unknown acronym] - Wait [user]
11:04:34: [unknown acronym] - Wait [user]
11:05:03: [unknown acronym] interaction assigned to [unknown username]
11:05:03: [unknown acronym] - Alerting: [unknown username]
11:05:03: Offering
11:05:03: Sent to user [unknown username]
11:05:03: Alerting
11:05:03: Sent to station [unknown extension]
11:05:10: Connected
11:05:10: [unknown acronym] interaction connected to [unknown username]
11:05:10: [unknown acronym] - Assigned: [unknown username]
11:05:34: Internal Transfer: [my extension]
11:05:34: Offering
11:05:34: Sent to user [my username]
11:05:34: User Alert: [my username]
11:05:34: Alerting
11:05:34: Sent to station [my extension]
11:05:54: Offering
11:05:56: Voice Mail
11:07:29: Disconnected [Remote Disconnect]
11:07:29: Caller has recorded and sent a voicemail message
Recording Length
86 seconds
[ID:[unknown ten-digit number]#[unknown phone number]

I wish to God I was making that up, but that's the actual email text, (minus necessary redactions, naturally). Assuming the caller is unknown to the system - there are three valid pieces of information in there.

1. I have a voice mail message from [unknown number]
2. It was recorded at 11:04 AM today
3. It is 86 seconds long

The expanded detail of this message would include:

4. This was an external call (or This was an internal call from [username])

The system processing notations and 37 other timestamps add precisely zero to the user's understanding of the message and can be summarized as time-wasting-bull$h!t

But back to voice mail:
Like most VM systems, this one supports keyed commands at any time in the recording.
The veteran would know to just hit 1 repeatedly until the message begins its interminably long intro (“First message…received…”).

But heaven help the poor sot who hits the 1 key too many times. Once you begin playback on the message, 1 is (naturally) a live command.

You hear

Voice mail message saved

-then nothing.

Repeating the command for the current level reveals no commands to hear saved messages.
Hitting star to go up a level repeats the prior tree only now it says you have no new messages and no saved messages.

While there may be some cryptic command to jump from new message playback to saved message playback of a just-saved message, it does not appear in the message tree and this user opted to hang up and dial back in.

As expected I was then treated to

You have no new voice mail messages. You have 1 saved voice mail message.

To listen to new voice mail messages, press 1
To listen to saved voice mail messages, press 2
To listen to today’s voice mail messages only, press 3
To return to the previous message, press star

So now the saved message is out of system limbo and is formally saved and available. Great. Also, the system spends time asking me if I want to listen to new messages when I have none.

There are so many levels of dumb going on here it's easy to miss the fact that in high-use systems with lots of users the difference between a menu saying "one new message" and "one new voice mail message" can add up to hundreds of man hours a year.

*******************

Anyway. The message from an unknown number turns out to actually be for me - and turns out to be a colleague of mine from my old job. They're putting together a reunion of sorts for one of the group who is relocating to the U.K. for three years.

Seriously cool. They are good people and it would be great to meet up with them.

I'm out at lunch thinking about how odd it will be to connect with these folks after all this time. I wonder if they'll be going to London?

-and then somebody sits down at my table.

It's H

To say that I'm surprised would be an understatement. Last I heard, H was working a new job in some other city.

They say hello and are genuinely friendly about it. Not having a good reason to do otherwise, I respond in kind. H is on the west coast now, sold their house, pulling contract work for a big name company. They just happen to be in town visiting friends. They'd been in the corner doing remote work using the store's WiFi and I'd completely missed them.

If I'd seen them first - I'd have left.

Which brings me to the whole purpose of this post, I guess. H is a person that just confounds me. My initial impressions proved wrong - my second impressions more so, and now I'm beginning to come to the realization that with people - there simply is no final word.

If you'd have asked me my opinion of H five minutes prior to meeting them that day - I'd have been negative. They were unprofessional on numerous occasions - to a degree where I actually went to management. I am glad they do not work with me for many reasons.

Five minutes later, you'd find me chatting them up and saying encouraging things about them being able to sell their house and get out alive in this market. To call this hypocrisy or reflexive make-nice is beside the point. If H has moved on and is doing well, I'm really happy for them.

But I've thought that before, too. I thought they'd found their niche at CorpWorld - before their very-public immolation. I'd even attributed sinister motives to their recruiting me for my present job - as if life was as simple and linear as TV drama.

I don't get H. They have been at least two different people since I've known them and one of them is very likeable. Generous, even. The version that popped up at my table today did something I would never have done. Walk up to a former co-worker and say howdy? I don't do that even if there isn't an awkward backstory in our collective past. The social partitions of work and home are more or less impermeable.

I do not hang out with co-workers.

I do not seek out contact with co-workers. That voicemail? They called me. I would never have done the same. Not for lack of affection, just because I view those contacts as well....done. Until they call me.

With H, its quite a bit stranger than that.

I actively tried to get this person fired once. I was a bad character witness against them when they got canned from this job. I would expect both of these facts are known to them, yet they walk up and say hi. I seem to recall getting a pinged by them on a social networking site awhile ago.

Were situations reversed, I would never do those things.

I would have flagged that person as "hostile," and written them out of my life. I had essentially done this with H - although circumstances did most of the work for me. They left, I stayed.

The occasional, accidental interaction convinces me that H's impression of me is mistaken, or that they have a very different outlook on these things. Or perhaps they thought they had no option to avoid me and made the best of it.

I do hope they are doing well. That it lasts this time.

But mostly, I wish I'd seen them first.

Yep, Pretty Much My Life

 

Although I'm singing Still Alive a year earlier than this guy - I'm still pretty sad.

The Rise and Fall of Ms. Dory Goebel

Naked Capitalism snags a great case out of the US Bankruptcy Court for the eastern district of Louisiana. In Re: Wilson. While the robo-signing phenomenon is hardly new - its violent collision with bankruptcy courts never fails to entertain.

The backstory of this case is that the debtors, Ron and LaRhonda Wilson, fell behind on their mortgage and filed for chapter 13 bankruptcy in September 2007. They entered into an agreement with the US Trustee to pay regular installments to the trustee for what they owed on their mortgage prior to declaring bankruptcy. They also agreed to continue paying all future mortgage payments directly to their lender, Option One.

Assuming all goes to plan - you would think Option One would be happy with this. The amount in arrears will be paid after a delay, but the ongoing payments will continue. A blip in the payment record, but Option One gets their money.

Option One is not happy. January 2008 they ask the court to allow them to go after the Wilsons for their money. The reason? The Wilsons haven't made the payments they promised (November 2007, December 2007, and January 2008). The Wilsons are bums, and Option One wants to foreclose.

The Wilsons counter that they have made all their payments since September, and Option One is simply wrong.

The law favors the Wilsons for one simple reason: Option One didn't supply any evidence with their motion. Motion denied.

Option One digs into their records and comes back swinging a month later. Now they claim that four payments haven't been paid - and this means the escrow may be insufficient to pay real estate taxes (the horror!). This assertion is backed up by an affidavit by Option One's new champion, Ms. Dory Goebel.

Ms Goebel affirmed:

Appearer has reviewed and is familiar with the mortgage loan account of RON WILSON, Sr. And LA RHONDA WILSON (“Mortgagor”) represented by the afore described note and mortgage and the records and data complications [sic] pertaining thereto, which business records reflect acts, events or condition made at or near the time by Dory Goebel, or from information transmitted by a person with knowledge thereof and which records and data complications [sic] are made and kept as a regular practice of the regularly conducted business activities of OPTION ONE MORTGAGE CORPORATION.

Ms. Goebel then declared that the balance due on the note was $176,063.27 and that Debtors were in default under their plan for failure to pay the monthly installments accruing from November 1, 2007, through February 1, 2008. Ms. Goebel represented that the last payment on the note was applied to the October 1, 2007 installment.

So there, sworn testimony that the Wilsons haven't been paying Option One.

By now it's April 2008. So presumably, Option One is owed these four payements and more.

But there's a problem. Six actually. The Wilsons enter into evidence copies of six payments. Western Union money orders and cashiers checks. Five of these payments have confirmation of receipt by Option One.

Oops.

The Court asks Option One's attorney - a Mr. Wirtz - to explain this discrepancy.

Wirtz discloses that his client agrees that, yes in fact, the Wilsons did make their October, November, and December payments. BUT, he claims, they still haven't paid all that they owe (presumably the January, February, and March 2008 payments), so the court should allow Option One to foreclose.

The Court reminds Mr. Wirtz and Ms. Goebel - via a show cause order - that there's still the matter of why Ms. Goebel's affidavit said the Wilsons had not paid when there was convincing evidence (including the signatures of Option One employees on certified mail receipts) for payments that Ms. Goebel has sworn did not exist.

Another hearing is held. Mr. Wirtz appears, but Ms. Goebel "was not present." Mr. Wirtz admits that the Wilsons are, his bad, current on their loan payments.

Oh, ho, ho. Silly me. Let's forget about that whole 'wanting-to-take-their-house-thing' okay, your honor? What'dya say?.

The Court jointly sanctioned Option One and Ms. Goebel $5,000.00 for failure to appear and $5,000.00 for filing a false affidavit. Option One was also ordered to pay $900.00 in attorney’s fees to Debtors’ counsel. The Court sanctioned Mr. Wirtz $1,000.00 for failing to amend the Second Motion and Default Affidavit once he obtained information which revealed that they were false.

The Court then pursued further investigation into why Ms. Goebel - working for Option One, but technically an employee of Loan Processing Services - would file a false affidavit.

I'll let the court summarize what followed:

From July 9, 2008, through December 2010, the parties conducted contentious discovery. Ten (10) motions to quash, compel, clarify, reconsider orders, stay proceedings, request protective orders; and appeal interlocutory orders were considered along with responses, oppositions and replies to each.

Finally, the court and the US Trustee pin Option One, LPS and Ms. Goebels down and get their explanation.

Ms. Goebel explains how she investigated the payment history of the Wilsons:

To execute such an affidavit, once I receive the affidavit, I will review the information that is in the affidavit with Option One’s [computer] system. So, I will validate the information based on their system and the information that is there.

Ms. Goebel is physically at LPS. So she's logging into Option One's system remotely and then comparing what she sees there with what the LPS system is telling her.

What the LPS system should have been telling her is that the Wilsons payments were being received. But the computer system doesn't say this, because LPS didn't mark the Wilson's file as a bankruptcy case until after their new payments were received. This meant payments destined for October 2007 were applied to pre-bankruptcy payments owed from June 2007. When the file was finally marked as a bankruptcy file - new payments were dropped into a general fund and the Wilsons balance was not credited. Payment was received, but it wasn't showing up on Ms. Goebel's monitor.

So.... she filed an affidavit based on what she saw on her screen. All a big misunderstanding, right? Wrong.

As part of its default services, LPS executed Affidavits of Default in support of Motions for Relief from Stay. LPS testified that it was just one of the services that LPS provided to clients. The affidavit is typical. It purports to be executed under oath before a notary and two (2) witnesses. It provides the name and title of the affiant and represents that the affiant has personal knowledge of the facts contained in the affidavit In fact, it is a sham.

...By corporate resolution, Option One grants these individuals “officer” status, but limits their authority to the signing of default affidavits. These “officers” execute 1,000 documents per day for Option One and other clients similar to the one used in this case. In fact, Ms. Goebel is an employee of LPS with little or no connection to Option One. Each day Ms. Goebel receives approximately thirty (30) documents to sign. The process of signing default affidavits is rote and elementary.

As Ms. Goebel is also a manager of a work unit at LPS, she allocates two (2) hours per day for document execution and estimates that it takes her five (5) to ten (10) minutes to sign each affidavit she receives. Before signing an affidavit, Ms. Goebel follows the procedures directed by LPS. She checks three (3) computer screens that provide the amount of the installment payment, the total balance due on the loan, and the due date for the earliest past due installment. She matches this information with that contained in the affidavit. If it is correct, she signs the document and forwards it to a notary for execution.

Although the affidavit in this case purported to verify that Option One was the holder of the note owed by Debtors through an assignment, Ms. Goebel does not personally know this to be a fact and made no effort to verify her assertion. Similarly, the affidavit identifies the mortgage and note as exhibits to the affidavit, but Ms. Goebel neither checks the attachments nor verifies that they are correct. In fact, the affidavits she signs never have any attachments when forwarded to her for execution, and she never adds any.

Well now, that's a little harsh - don't you think your honor?

Don't you think you could-?

Ms. Goebel’s training on the seriousness of her task was sorely lacking. She could not remember who “trained” her when she was promoted in 2007 to a document execution position.92 She could not remember the extent or nature of her training. 93 She did surmise that written procedures were given to her and then she began “signing.”94 She described her task as “clerical”95 and repeatedly expressed the belief that the affidavits were counsel’s affidavits, and therefore, she relied upon counsel regarding their accuracy.96 In this admission, the real problem surfaces.

But, now we know a mistake was made... Can't we just --?

Default affidavits are a lender’s representation as to the status of a loan. They are routinely accepted in both state and federal courts in lieu of live testimony. They are an accommodation to the lending community based on a belief by the courts that the facts they present are virtually unassailable. The submission of evidence by affidavit allows lenders to save countless hours and expense establishing a borrower’s default without the need for testimony from a lending representative. While they can be refuted by a borrower, too often, a debtor’s offer of alternative and conflicting facts is dismissed by those who believe that a lender’s word is more credible than that of a debtor. The deference afforded the lending community has resulted in an abuse of trust.

And there it is, yet another eloquent explanation of why robosigning is not a paperwork problem. It is a deliberate abuse of trust on the part of the lending community. Simply put - It is fraud.

The court then gives Ms. Goebel both barrels, then beats her employer over the head with the butt of the shotgun.

The abuse begins with a title. In this case, Ms. Goebel was cloaked with the position of “Assistant Secretary,” in a purposeful attempt to convey an experience level and importance beyond her actual abilities. Ms. Goebel is an earnest young woman, but with no training or experience in banking or lending. By her own account, she has rocketed through the LPS hierarchy receiving promotions at a pace of one (1) promotion per six (6) to eight (8) month period.97 Her ability to slavishly adhere to LPS’ procedures has not only been rewarded, but has assured the development of her tunnel vision. Ms. Goebel does not understand the importance of her duties, and LPS failed to provide her with the tools to question the information to which she attests....

...In this case, LPS had personal knowledge of four (4) critical facts. First, that as of February 15, 2008, Option One had received two (2) payments from Debtors in amounts sufficient to satisfy the installments due for December and January. Second, counsel had directed that the payments be sent to it rather than posted. Third, Option One alerted LPS in February that the amounts forwarded were sufficient to bring the loan current. Fourth, counsel reported to LPS that they had only received $1,846.84, a fact LPS neglected to forward to Option One. As a result of this knowledge, LPS should have known that a payment was unaccounted for between Option One and Boles. An inquiry to either might have brought the problem to light. Instead, LPS ignored the facts...

...The fraud perpetrated on the Court, Debtors, and trustee would be shocking if this Court had less experience concerning the conduct of mortgage servicers. One too many times, this Court has been witness to the shoddy practices and sloppy accountings of the mortgage service industry. With each revelation, one hopes that the bottom of the barrel has been reached and that the industry will self correct. Sadly, this does not appear to be reality....

(signed) Hon. Elizabeth W. Magner
U.S. Bankruptcy Judge

I'm thinking Bankruptcy judges should start nailing lender's pelts to the wall outside their courtroom. Maybe banks will start getting the message.

So... Which is it Ramona?

When it comes to Democratic Canvassers discussing the discovery of the Waukesha County error that swung the WI Supreme Court race back to Prosser - what a difference 4 days makes...

Ramona Kitzinger on April 7:

Everything that we went over yesterday afternoon and today, it jibed up, and we're satisfied that it's correct. And I'm with the Democratic Party, vice-chair of Waukesha County, so i'm not gonna stand here and tell you something that's incorrect.

Ramona Kitzinger on April 11:

On Thursday, I then showed up as per normal procedure at 9am and the canvass again went normally and concluded sometime between 4pm and 5pm. During the course of the day, the issue of minor vote corrections in New Berlin and Lisbon came up, but again nothing of a historic nature or reflecting glaring irregularities. In fact, the matter of vote totals in Brookfield City came up specifically during the course of Thursday s canvass. In retrospect, it seems both shocking and somewhat appalling there was no mention of discovery of this 15,000 vote human error that ultimately had the potential to tip the balance of an entire statewide election. How is this possible?

Once the canvass had been completed and the results were finalized, I was called into Kathy s office along with Pat (the Republican observer) and told of an impending 5:30pm press conference. It was at that point that I was first made aware of an error Kathy had made in Brookfield City. Kathy told us she thought she had saved the Brookfield voter information Tuesday night, but then on Wednesday she said she noticed she had not hit save. Kathy didn t offer an explanation about why she didn t mention anything prior to Thursday afternoon s canvass completion, but showed us different tapes where numbers seemed to add up, though I have no idea where the numbers were coming from. I was not told of the magnitude of this error, just that she had made one. I was then instructed that I would not say anything at the press conference, and was actually surprised when I was asked questions by reporters.

The reason I offer this explanation is that, with the enormous amount of attention this has received over the weekend, many people are offering my statements at the press conference that the numbers jibed as validation they are correct and I can vouch for their accuracy. As I told Kathy when I was called into the room I am 80 years old and I don t understand anything about computers. I don t know where the numbers Kathy was showing me ultimately came from, but they seemed to add up. I am still very, very confused about why the canvass was finalized before I was informed of the Brookfield error and it wasn t even until the press conference was happening that I learned it was this enormous mistake that could swing the whole election. I was never shown anything that would verify Kathy s statement about the missing vote, and with how events unfolded and people citing me as an authority on this now, I feel like I must speak up.

W.T.F?

Oregon Legislature Rick Rolls...Everyone?

There's all kinds of suckage in the news lately, so I'm going to just call a Friday perrogative and post something that is jaw droppingly strange.

A video of the Oregon Legislature dropping Rick Astley lyrics into the public record - with the ultimate goal of creating a Rick Roll video:

She Got Him

All votes are in - Kloppenburg declares victory in WI Supreme Court Race