Tag: bank

Visiting Hofstra University

As a parent there are some moments that are benchmarks – signals your child has reached an important milestone. Sunday was one of those days.

We woke up early and drove to Hofstra University, where Steffie has been admitted for the class of 2009.

It was a spectacular day with bright sunshine, dry air and comfortable temperatures. I asked Helaine to shoot a few pictures as we crossed the Throgs Neck Bridge, because on a day like today, Manhattan in the far distance is very impressive.

Our trip to Hofstra went without a hitch and took around 1:30. By the time we got there other families were also arriving. There was little need for on campus directions – all we had to do was follow the throng.

As we walked along there were students and faculty wearing ribbons and “Ask Me” name tags. One of them corralled us, took Steffie’s registration information and handed her a cloth bag with school materials and a very large, gray, Hofstra t-shirt.

We stood around in the sunshine for a few minutes and then walked into a large theater, taking our seats in the fourth row.

About 15 minutes before the scheduled start time the Hofstra Pep Band began to play. They started out of sight, but were lifted up to stage level on an elevator in the orchestra pit. Though they weren’t the tightest group I’d ever heard, they accomplished their goal, because we were getting enthused.

It should be noted, there are pep band songs that every school’s band plays. It’s probably very lucrative to own the rights to “Give Me Good Lovin'” originally done by the Spencer Davis or a dozen others that are played wherever hoops are shot.

The first official speaker was the president of the university, brought on the the dean of admissions. The the provost came and spoke a little longer.

Though Steffie has already made up her mind to go to Hofstra, it became obvious that a major thrust of this session was to sell undecideds on choosing Hofstra.

Colleges and universities have a difficult job. They must take enough students to fill their school, but they have no way to know how many who are accepted will really attend… or how many who are wait listed will still be around if they’re needed.

Even as a non-profit, without a neutral or positive cash flow each year, schools won’t survive.

Steffie has decided she wants to major in public relations which is within the School of Communication. In a wonderful talk, Professor Ellen Frisina explained the long painstaking deliberations that came before deciding to call it the School of Communication, not Communications. She admits she still isn’t quite sure what the difference is, but it is singular!

We were very impressed by Professor Frisina and went up to talk with her, as did with many others, after the session.

There is one thing I’ll disagree with. I heard it today, and it had been a theme when we visited other college campuses. The claim is their program will prepare you to walk out of college and into a job, already having mastered in college what you’re going to be doing in the professional world.

I don’t see how they teach, or what they teach, but college is not the real world. I have yet to see anyone, ever, walk in off a college campus “good to go.” There are always nuances and pressures not experienced in college which factor into every job from day one.

This was a positive experience for all of us and I think (at this moment) Steffie is more confident than ever in her choice of a major.

I am more than a little jealous after having read a brochure for their on campus facilities. Each dorm room is connected to the Internet with OC-3 speed – 115 Mbps. That is approximately 25 times faster than my cable modem delivers!

It was also interesting to see this bank of copying machines on the lower level of the library. I’m curious if the availability of ‘cut and paste’ research materials has turned these into expensive dinosaurs?

Our school visit over, Stef asked if she could make a short stop at Roosevelt Field Mall. I’ve written about this mall, built over the airfield Lindbergh used when he flew across the Atlantic, before.

At 7:52 A.M., May 20, 1927, Charles Lindberg left on his solo flight across the Atlantic. The Spirit of St. Louis, loaded with gasoline, lumbered down the runway before finally becoming airborne. He barely had enough altitude to clear the telephone lines at the end of the runway at Roosevelt Field.

You would think Roosevelt Field, though no longer used for aviation, would be a memorial or historic shrine to the bravery, accomplishment and good luck of Charles Lindberg. No, this is Long Island – it’s a mall.

While they shopped, I attempted to sleep in the car. I parked in the garage with the thought it would be cooler out of the sun. That was true. However, the radio reception was awful and I learned everyone on Long Island… OK most people on Long Island… have car alarms which chirp when they’re enabled and randomly wail!

Dr. Gene Scott

When I first got to Connecticut, back in 1984, we had one very unusual station on our cable system. It was WHCT, Channel 18 and it was owned by a church, headed by Dr. Gene Scott&#185.

Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, Gene Scott was on TV. You may not know the name, but you’ll recognize Gene Scott. Red cheeks and lots of white hair on his head and face.

Often Dr. Scott would be seen preaching in front of a white board full of biblical references. There were lines and arrows connecting ideas and thoughts. I didn’t actually see him draw on the board, just stand in front of it and sometimes reference it.

24/7 means lots of time to fill – which seemed to pose little problem for Gene Scott. If he went to do something he felt interesting, religious or not, he’d bring a camera… a handheld shaky camera. I saw programs where he raced harness horses around a track. On others he shot skeet.

Often Dr. Scott would have a big fat cigar clenched in his mouth. He’d stand while the camera panned counselors at a bank of phones. There was a song, sung by a chorus with barbershop type tight harmony that he favored. “Play I want to know,” he’d shout, and on would come a tape of the singers.

I’m not a religious man, but obviously I found Dr. Gene Scott moderately interesting. He was an anachronism. Actually, he was more of a character. What did harness horses or skeet shooting or even his saxophone solos have to do with religion? Who knows. But to Gene Scott, it all made sense.

I always felt I saw a twinkle in his eye, a little implied wink that said, “I know I’m over the top. I really don’t care.” Maybe I was reading too much into what he was doing. I do know, on quiet nights when nothing else was on TV, I would watch just to see what he’d do next.

At some point, in the midst of a legal battle he probably wasn’t going to win, Dr. Scott got rid of Channel 18. Look so much else he was involved in, the sale had complex subplots and the station went dark.

I forgot about Dr. Gene Scott until today when I read he had died. He was larger than life. Undoubtedly, his tapes will continue to play on-the-air somewhere making him larger than death as well.

&#185 – Amazingly enough, from his website: “Dr. Gene Scott

Pat Child

Pat Child passed away earlier today. I knew something was up when I walked into the newsroom and saw Ann hugging Tim Clune, both of them teary.

He was diagnosed with brain cancer a few months ago. I expected Pat to tell the cancer to screw itself and then get on with his life. He said he didn’t want to suffer thorough treatment – but he did. Life is too precious to give up easily.

Recently he had been in and out of the hospital. As fluid in his brain built up, Pat would suffer only to come back when the pressure was relieved. Today he died at the hospital in Venice, Florida.

Most likely, you didn’t know Pat Child. He was worth knowing.

I first met Pat when I went to work for WTNH in 1984. Even then Pat was a grizzled photographer, wiser by far than any of the kid reporters he worked with.

I will always picture him with a cigarette hanging from his lips or between his stained fingers. Back then we could smoke in the station, in the news vehicles, everywhere. Pat took advantage.

Pat was not an artist with his camera. His shots shook. He never used a tripod.

I remember shooting a piece in my Mr. Science series and being assigned Pat. Right away he let me know this wasn’t his type of assignment. He started by calling me Geoffrey. He was a spot news kind of guy. He would do his best… but, you know…

On our way back the assignment desk called. There had been a shooting in New Haven. Could we stop by and get video. Though I am the weatherman, that afternoon I became a reporter for a few moments. That impressed Pat and we were friends from that day on.

Friendship with Pat was totally built on mutual respect.

So, why is a news photographer who wasn’t the world’s greatest photographer so important, so memorable? Pat was one of the brightest and certainly wisest men I’ve ever met. Pat was honest – maybe honest to a fault.

Though a scholarship recipient at Yale, he left early and headed to the Air Force where he shot the early days of the space program on film. I can’t imagine Pat in the Air Force. He was too opinionated and willing to confront authority. Actually, I can’t imagine Pat as a Yale graduate either. Their diploma would have lessened his obvious street smarts.

He came to work at the TV station in the early days of local news. It was a less sophisticated, less slick era of television.

When you were with Pat, you couldn’t let something slide. He was too smart to let you. If he liked you, and I think (and hope) he liked me, he would save your butt by being insightful at a time you thought he wasn’t even paying attention.

You could go to Pat and ask him about any event we’d ever covered (and many we hadn’t) and he would know all about it. He would point you in the right direction. He might even add things you hadn’t thought of including. And he would do it all from the perspective of the intellectual he was – a label I’m sure he’d find objectionable.

As Pat got older, and the run and gun life of a photographer lost his luster, he became a satellite truck operator. Working with Pat was like money in the bank.

He didn’t seem like the type who would ever retire, and yet after 38 years at the station, he did.

Friends threw Pat a spectacular going away party at the Rusty Scupper. I was astounded by all the important and talented people who came back to Connecticut to remember Pat. Others who couldn’t make it, sent back videotaped tributes.

It was a once in a lifetime event for two reasons. First, Pat’s retirement marked the end of one era of television. I don’t know if it was a better era, but it was different. Pat Child represented much of what was good about it.

Second, I have never felt so much love for one man in one room. That was astounding.

Tonight, I feel sad for Pat’s kids, his wife Kim (who also worked here for years) and his identical twin brother Bob. I feel sadder for those who didn’t get to share a little of Pat’s life. He was an exceptional man. He has touched me deeply. I will remember him forever.

I told former Channel 8 reporter, and longtime WNBC anchor, Sue Simmons about Pat here’s what she had to say

Continue reading “Pat Child”

Why I’m Not Sleeping

We’re supposed to be going to New York City later today. Who knows what kind of traffic or tumult we’ll find? With the Republican National Convention in town, New York is geared up for pretty much anything (except protesters in Central Park).

I was going to bed a little earlier than usual… but then I decided to play cards.

A $5 tournament was starting at midnight. This tournament is a ‘satellite’ to another tournament on Sunday (though if I cash out, I will put the money in my bank and forget the tournament on Sunday).

Of course like most costs in gambling, the real number is hidden. This is a $5 tournament with $5 rebuys and a $5 add-on. Some people rebuy like crazy. It has cost me $15.

Because this tournament is a satellite, it is structured differently than most. Instead of the big winner getting 25% of the pot (or similar amount), the top 17 finishers get a $500 + $30 entry for Sunday (or cash equivalent) and the 18th gets $300.

609 players signed up. I didn’t expect it to last too long – but I was wrong. We are now 4 hours into the game and there are still 45 left. At the moment I’m in 8th place, so I can’t leave… though I wish I could.

If I’m still in when the tournament reaches 17, I’ll sign off and let others finish without me. There are bonus points for doing well in tournaments, but I never have enough to be meaningful.

If I go out between now and 17, I’ll be upset at the time I’ve pissed away.

It’s Bank One – Again

I went to buy something online today. It was a significant purchase, but a fraction of my credit limit. This is our primary credit card account. It’s an account that is paid in full promptly every month and always has been.

The purchase was declined by Bank One, the card’s issuer.

I picked up the phone and spoke with Mary Ann at Credit Card Central. They saw a large charge and declined it because it was on the Internet.

OK – but why not call me? Her answer (and it’s one I’ve gotten before so I know it’s in the standard answer book there at Credit Card Central) had to do with the fact that they’ve got millions of customers.

Let me see if I’ve got this right. Because they have so many customers, my little speck of an account isn’t important enough to get any attention. Great. That is one of the most insensitive customer unfriendly responses it’s ever been my pleasure to receive.

Isn’t this why I pay a yearly fee (which is on top of whatever they get from the merchant and interest I might pay)? She then told me most customers call. So, in essence, I’ve been assigned a no pay job by Bank One.

They have both my phone number and email address. Sending an email notice in a situation like this would be appropriate and virtually cost free to them. Phoning me would be better.

Instead of jumping to conclusions (and based on my experience these conclusions are mostly wrong), why not check with me?

Here’s what Bank One doesn’t know, or doesn’t care to know. When my card was declined, the website notice didn’t ask me to call my bank. It asked me to use another card – and my guess is most people do just that.

This card is tied to Southwest Airlines which, in my opinion, has the best frequent flyer program going. For that reason I’m keeping it. Unfortunately, this is a pain in the butt – and it’s not the first time. At least this is better than being declined in person.

Oh – after my phone call the purchase was approved.

Father’s Day

What a beautiful day. This was a day for shooting picture postcards or travelogues. The sky was a pure blue without a hint of gray. The clouds were scattered and puffy. The air was warm and crisp at the same time.

Oh – it’s Father’s Day.

I’m not sure why we’re being feted, but we are. After all, in the hierarchy of parents, I think moms have it tougher. However, I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Steffie had handmade a card for me. Even at age 17, when she’s part child – part adult, this effort on her part warms every part of me. It is a collage – an abstract from magazines. It is a style in which she has shown great talent. I envy her skills as an artist.

Helaine bought me a few gifts: a book on poker (Doyle Brunson’s “Super System,” considered the classic in its field), cuff links made from small pieces of a computer motherboard, and a trip in a balloon over Las Vegas.

A good daughter-in-law, she got my dad that too. He’ll be joining me as we fly in wicker!

I love to fly. Once, a long time ago, I even took lessons… though I quit before I soloed.

I have flown in nearly anything you can think of from an ultralight with two chainsaw engines for power, to a Piper Cub J-3 with fabric covered wings, to a C-5A big enough to hold a Greyhound bus. I’ve had a few minutes stick time in an F/A18 with the Blue Angels and in a military full motion simulator. I’ve also flown through 2 hurricanes in a C-130 Hurricane Hunter (not as scary as you might think). There have also been flights in a few helicopters, one blimp and some time in Houston walking through a Space Shuttle trainer.

My first balloon flight was in the 80’s during my PM Magazine/Buffalo days. The pilot was Einer Wheel (a name you don’t easily forget) and the balloon was festooned with ads for a local Western New York bank. Later, with the SciFi Channel crew, I flew in the Canadian Flag balloon during a mass ascension at the Kodak Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta.

I’m looking forward to this balloon trip because it’s over Las Vegas (though probably not over the Strip), which will provide an immense panorama, and because it will be with my dad. This is the kind of thing he’d never do on his own and something he’ll really enjoy a lot.

This being Father’s Day, I went a little nuts and went off my diet. Helaine and Steffie took me to The Rusty Scupper for brunch. With today’s weather, and its location right on New Haven Harbor, it was the perfect spot.

Father’s Day ends at midnight. I’ll be dieting again tomorrow, trying to gain a cushion for our Vegas vacation. I was king for a day. It’s good to be king.

Every Little Bit Counts

It’s just a guess, but I think more people save coins than don’t. I’m not talking about numismatists, but folks throwing coins in a jar. It’s an itch that’s been scratched with coin counting machines (taking an exorbitant percentage, in my opinion) at most grocery stores.

We are with the majority. Every night, as I’m getting changed, I reach into my pocket and put whatever comes out into a jar. I don’t consciously look to horde these coins, but I’m not always fishing to see if I’ve got exact change either.

If I go to Subway it’s always 50&#162-60&#162 in change. Later I might get a Diet Coke (the mere fact that I have stooped to buying diet sodas upsets me) which is 75&#162 in the machine at the station. A medium coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts varies, but it’s around $1.60.

Over the last year and a half, or so, we have filled three good sized jars of coins. Today was the day to roll them.

Helaine spread an old towel on the bedroom floor and I dumped the jars, one at a time. Then we segregated the coins, putting all like denominations together. We also pulled out a few Canadian coins, half dollars, an old style nickel and one Sacagawea&#185 gold colored (though containing no gold at all) dollar.

As soon as we began rolling the coins, we realized we wouldn’t have enough wrappers. So, I headed out to Staples while Helaine continued rolling.

I got back in time to help roll the last few nickels.

There was some spillover – not enough of a given value to complete a roll, and pennies that after a while didn’t seem worth the effort and weren’t rolled. But this was a worthwhile afternoon. Our grand total was $450! Not bad considering this had been a painless acquisition.

The lst time we did this, I asked a friend in the restaurant business (who is forced to ‘buy’ coin rolls at face value plus a percentage from his bank) if he would take them. I’ll call him tomorrow… and then start the collection cycle again.

&#185 – Blogger’s note: The US Treasury Department uses the spelling “Sacagawea.” The spell checker I use, ieSpell, says “Sacajawea.” I’ll go with the government with apologies if I’m wrong.

My Day of Kayaking

As anticipated, 8:30 AM came very quickly. Hey, to me that’s the middle of the night. A little procrastination with the bedroom TV, and then I was in the shower getting ready. I was actually running on time!

The plan was to meet at my friend Kevin’s house, in Cheshire at 10:00 AM. Kevin had invited me, his boss Scott and his daughter, plus a friend, Jeff.

It was beautiful. A little on the humid side, but with a pure blue sky. I had the top down and the radio up. As I turned from N. Brooksvale to Mountain Rd, a bicyclist came the other way. He was dressed in a loud, skin tight biking suit. But, he had the best advice of the day, “Cops ahead.”

The speed limit on Mountain is 25 mph – an unattainable goal, even if you know there are police lurking. I did about 30. As I passed the patrol car, the policeman turned his head and looked at me. No one does 30 without being tipped off! I’m sure he knew.

Kevin has a small trailer. He lashed the kayaks to it, and we were off. We went up I-84 to Waterbury and then north on Route 8 into the Southern Litchfield Hills. It didn’t take long to get to the White Memorial Foundation – hundreds of acres of nature preserve.

If the White Memorial Foundation sounds familiar, it should. It’s where Connecticut’s Governor Rowland has a small cottage, which had a hot tub, which is all swirled within the specter of corruption charges.

Scott checked the water temperature as we brought the boats down to the Bantam River. His thermometer read 70&#176, though we would later all agree it was probably in the 60’s farther from shore.

If I had been in a kayak before, it was a long time ago. I rocked a little from side to side as I set out. Last night, at the station, our director Tracey had admonished me to push, not pull when paddling. Otherwise, she said, I’d get very sore.

Easier said than done, but I tried.

The Bantam River is small and gently flowing in this part of Litchfield County. We headed to the right, against the minuscule current. A light breeze was at our back.

You actually wouldn’t know there was a current on this river except for the beaver dams. I had heard and read about beaver dams for years, but had never really experienced them. From bank to bank, a pile of twigs, branches and mud choked the flow. We found weak spots and paddled over… though I got caught a little more than once.

The kayak handled really easily and it didn’t take me long to get into the rhythm. Inertia is an important part of kayaking. When you stop paddling, the kayak continues… in my case it often kept going until it hit another kayak!

The White Memorial Foundation land is a protected habitat for all sorts of wildlife. We saw birds, including a few hawks and beautiful red winged blackbirds. A duck, probably protecting a nearby nest, let me get pretty close without flinching. I turned back, not wanting to upset him. There were turtles too, including one who seemed to be stretching out as if he were sunning himself on a Caribbean vacation.

After a mile or so (Kevin had a GPS receiver capable of plotting our course) we came to some beaver dams too high to paddle over. So, we just turned around and went back down river.

The river wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. A while later we ran into an older husband and wife, and their dog Coco. The dog was sitting comfortably in a wicker basket lashed to the front of one of their kayaks. Coco started kayaking at 3 months and wouldn’t even think of staying on shore now.

My five hours of sleep and the gentle rocking of the kayak was starting to catch up with me. I asked if it would be OK for us to end it here – and we did.

I hadn’t flipped the kayak. I hadn’t really gotten sick. I hadn’t put anyone else in mortal danger by doing something stupid. The trip was a success.

I’m hoping to go with Kevin again. Next time, with a little Dramamine, I’d like to try the Thimble Islands, off the Branford coast, in Long Island Sound.

How Goes Poker

I haven’t written about our poker playing in a while, and this seems to be a good time. At this moment, we are up $.11 since August!

Not long ago, we were up to $500 in the bank, meaning up $250. Oh well. It comes and goes.

There’s no doubt I’m hooked on poker, and obsessive gambling is a problem. On the other hand, is it a problem if all we’ve spent is time?

Part of the reason I’m only up $.11 is because I’ve got $6.50 tied up in two games in progress. One is a 9 player $5.50 tournament. There are four left and I’m second.

The other is a $1 tournament with 1334 entrants. There are 811 left, but I’m way back at 682.

Back to Poker

Looking back at my $250 stake in online poker, I chuckle. It was supposed to be a small buy-in for a few weeks, maybe a month, of fun playing online. Here we are 7 months later – still playing.

We’ve been down as low as $40 a few times but we’ve bounced back. The big strike was a $300+ tournament win, no doubt. That was a nerve wracking tournament and a heck of a payout for $21 invested.

Every time I think I understand poker strategy, I change and do it differently. It’s possible that strategy is a fluid thing, and changing is what you have to do. Maybe I’m just placing to much credence in anecdotal evidence and being reactionary.

Recently, I’ve been successful, late in the single table tournaments I play most often, by playing possum – sitting back and letting others start betting when I have a powerful hand. That’s also called ‘slow play’ and is normally frowned upon as a strategy because you often let those without good hands catch the cards they need.

Helaine just played in a $10+1 tournament and placed 2nd. With that $27 payoff, we have gone over $500 in the bank. Now all I have to do is run down to Costa Rica to pick it up!

Broadcast News

I just finished watching the second half of one of my all time favorite movies. There’s no doubt I love Broadcast News because of Holly Hunter and Albert Brooks and the characters they portray.

There’s little I don’t like about Hunter. She’s very attractive, though not quite as attractive as the character she plays here.

In one of the early scenes (maybe the first – it was on before I tuned in tonight) she walks up to a bank of curbside newspaper vending boxes and buys a paper from each one. So, she’s attractive, intelligent, aggressive and principled… the total package.

Albert Brooks plays an intellectual, nerdy reporter. His inability to deal with any transgression from idealism is his undoing.

When I first saw the movie, I saw myself in much of what Brooks played. Maybe, I flatter myself too much.

There was a time when I would stand on principle no matter what the consequences. Now, I’m more willing to balance my reaction. That’s good and bad. Bad, because it means I let stuff slide. Good in that I’m not confrontational to the same extent I was earlier in my life.

It is a more adult way to deal with the imperfections of life. It is not a better way – just an adult way.

Toward the end of the picture, as Brooks is losing Holly Hunter (and my heart is breaking for him), he talks about the devil. His purpose in the film is to lessen (the character played by) William Hurt. Still, it’s a great speech.

Paraphrasing – the devil looks like us. The devil doesn’t act in broad strokes but eats away at the moral high ground a little bit at a time. It’s an impassioned speech based on the fears of the idealistic. It’s sad because it’s so true.

Broadcast News made broadcast news look quite romantic. It actually is.

Though I work much farther down the food chain than the second rate national network portrayed, it’s still a cool profession. There are few jobs where you are watched, while you work by your ‘customers’. So much of individual success depends on the public’s trust in you. The most successful are those who value that trust.

In broadcast news, idealism is not misplaced. It’s just in short supply.

Still Playing Poker

I haven’t written about my online poker exploits in a while. I’m not sure why, but it might have to do with how poorly Helaine and I started to do. When I left for Florida, nearly two weeks ago, we were down to $40 from our original stake of $250. We started playing at pokerstars.com about five months ago.

After losing a few games to ridiculous hands (people staying in… calling bets… hoping a 1:100 shot comes through… and it does) Helaine decided she had had enough and ‘retired’. I played on.

I took another look at my play and decided to make some small, but hopefully significant changes to my style. I am not dogmatic in my play. There are some variations (though not many) from game to game. But, mostly, I am consistent in when I bet and fold.

My strategy now favors not losing.

Hold on. It’s not meant as a joke and that’s a sentence with real meaning.

It is possible to set out and bet your cards to win. I found, and it’s based more on anecdotal evidence than well designed research, most of my losses came when I was in trying to squeeze out another opponent and he got lucky (or my assessment of my cards was in error). If you go ‘all in’ five times, and win four (an excellent percentage) you’re still knocked out!

Now, I will be less aggressive in those situations. That means I’ll win a little less per hand, but I’ll avoid some of the significant downside associated with allowing one wrong move to break me.

It’s only been two weeks, but so far so good. From $40 in the bank, I’m now approaching $100.

My game of choice is still the $5.50 single table, sit and go tournaments. Last night, for the first time in a long time, I sat at a 10&#162 – 25&#162 no limit Hold’em table (in other words, real betting with real money, as opposed to a tournament with very fixed limits to your possible losses – or wins). I won $9.50 in under a half hour.

I was surprised to find the table very loose. As a tight player, I think that’s a good thing for me, and brings lots of early money to the pot as optimists try and hit their dream hand. Sometimes they will. Most often, they don’t.

Maybe I’ll start playing more of that, though the concept of ‘no limit’ in this context is scary.

Do I Look Like a Crook?

It’s the holiday season. Time to buy gifts. Is there a better way to buy something than with a credit card?

Our credit card of choice is affiliated with Southwest Airlines. As we pay for food and gas and gifts, we accumulate free airplane trips. And, since we pay off our bill each and every month, these trips cost no more than the yearly credit card fee. It’s a great deal.

It’s a great deal for the bank too. They get our yearly fee and make a cut on everything we buy. And, since we charge a lot, they get a lot.

There’s just one problem – the bank that actually issues the card and runs the program has cut it off three times.

It’s not like we’re bad people… this card has never had a late payment. And, we haven’t even been in the same neighborhood as our limit. Our problem is, we’ve used the card too many times in a single day.

I know – you thought they encouraged you to use the card. I thought that too.

Yesterday, as I’m told, our card was used 14 times. None of these purchases were extremely large. We charged a $230 airline ticket, some groceries, a gift or two or three. You get the idea.

To the bank, this looked like the pattern a thief would use. So, they flagged the card, and when Helaine tried to buy something for me online – delivered to our own address – the bank refused to accept the transaction.

I guess they’re entitled to do this, but here’s what bothers me. They cut us off and never told us. All they had to do was make a call. Mr. Fox, did you make this purchase? We found out when we tried to buy something.

My suspicion is, it’s cheaper for them to wait for the customer to contact them, or use the clerk at the store. For me… for my wife… this is astoundingly embarrassing. This time it was a mail order purchase, but the last time a clerk at the grocery store said to Helaine; “That happens to me when I go over my limit.” Great.

As a public person, I try and protect my public image. Now this bank gets to sully it, for no apparent reason. I have received every excuse known to man from the security department and no apologies.

I am beginning to simmer.

Crying Man returns

Last Friday, after a dreadful week full of clouds and rain (in fact rain on the first 9 days of August), I thought it was time to resurrect Andy Savas, playing the part of “The Crying Man.”

In tonight’s episode, Andy is a high official with the Cape Cod Tourism Association.

Andy cut this tape years ago. It’s probably been 2 or more years since I last used it. Having this video squirreled away in my desk is like money in the bank.

Southwest VISA card

Our Southwest Airlines VISA credit card, from First USA, has become a royal pain in the ass. The problems started almost immediately when we got the card in March. We were ‘declined’ more than once for security purposes and now because our magnetic stripe wasn’t read correctly (2 different cards in 2 separate readers) declined again.

Even in cases where First USA knew they would ‘decline’ our next transaction, they never called, leaving that responsibility to the gas station attendant or grocery store clerk.

What service does my yearly service fee buy me?

Today we received a letter saying that a $5,000 payment by check had been returned to them, account closed. I immediately went to the computer, checked the account, and it’s fine. This being Saturday, there’s no one at the bank to speak to. The woman at First USA was incredibly rude and made it clear that First USA is too big to service it’s customers on a personal basis.

This will be fixed, but I am steamed.