Pink mist

Ok, internets, my financial fraud case is underway. And by the way, if you are thinking of switching banks, switch to BECU. Dang if these folks don’t come through for their customers every time. Yessir, they put my stolen dough back in my account. I spoke to one of their deputies today as he was saddling up to ride out to catch the varmints. More on that later. ANYONE living in Washington state can put their money in this credit union. I sure would recommend BECU. I suppose even state workers could too, though they have the WSECU.

I checked up on some statistics and found that there are about 6,600,000 folks living in Wa. State. About 112,000 of them work for the state. That’s FTE (Full Time Equivalent) so, if say, two people were working part time, that would be 1 FTE. In the case of Seattle City Light it would take about 5 folks to come up to 1 FTE. Usually there’s absolutely no traffic on President’s Day, and I always figured it was because every other person here worked for the state. That’s not true. I’m still trying to figure that one out.

Anyhow, internets, those guys at BECU are hot on the trail of the perpetrators. Seems they got my card number and made their own little card, complete with that magnetic strip and everything. You don’t need a PIN number if you use it for a credit card so when you go to Fred Meyer and buy a big flat screen TV you just schlep the thing to the checkout stand, give the card a swipe (great description for this action by the way) and the brainless, witless cashier smiles toothlessly back and says “Have a nithe day”. You walk out to your 74 Olds Cutlass, strap that baby on top and drive away to your Federal Way casa. Ouala! I just bought the mofo a new TV!

The BECU detective didn’t tip his hand but it sounded like they were reviewing videos and may just have these little rodents in the crosshairs. God I’d love to squeeze the trigger and see that pink mist explode behind their head before they go down.

Toothless in Federal Way

POS Withdrawal FRED-MEYER 33702 21ST AVE SW FEDERAL WAY WAUS

$875.99

POS Withdrawal FRED-MEYER 14300 1ST AVE S SEATTLE WAUS

$985.49

With Christmas just a few days away I went on line to see how much I had in my account so I could do Some Christmas shopping. I went to my on line banking statement and was immediately reminded that I really had no money. It will be a week or so before it’s all sorted out. In the meantime, what I DO have is the two posted withdrawals from the Fred Meyer stores where the thieves who stole my debit card identity shopped. They’re printed out above.

See, I really don’t have much, but what I did have someone stole. They bought $1,861.48 worth of shit at Fred Meyer. Tonight as I ruminate on what I might have bought my family members for Christmas I wonder what the thieves bought. What would a thief buy at Fred Meyer? Well, first of all, they’re at Fred Meyer. That means they’re going to buy cheap shit. Brand spanking, gleaming new, mind you – but cheap shit. Things that will wear out, break, fade, fizzle, rip, tear , warp and eventually stink. But then, that’s what you have in your house or apartment, isn’t it, Mr/Ms. Thief? A house or apartment full of cheap crap. Crap that matches your car outside and all the shit your extended family owns who live down the street. Your cheap lives filled with cheap, worthless crap you all bought at Fred Meyer. But it all fits. You all never got a break, really. That’s what it’s about. Now me, well, I’m a fucking fat cat with damn near two thousand dollars. I should share it with you shouldn’t I? Damn straight. I deserve to be robbed.

Well, hey, just you all have a merry, merry Christmas, ya hear? I do so wish I could sit down with you all and watch you open your presents. But I don’t have enough money for gas down to Burien.

Twice, now

Yes, internets, twice now I have been a victim of identity theft. The first time I could see how it could have happened. I was at my home in Kirkland. It was a nice early summer day and I had the doors open. People do that in the great northwest after 9 months of sodden greyness. I was working on my laptop in the dining room and had taken a break in the kitchen for some dinner. Heard some noise in the dining room. I looked up to see the back of someone bolting out the door with my laptop. Yep. They came in, saw my computer sitting there, ripped it out of the plug and took off with it. They took off down the alley and were gone before I could get after them.

I keep a baseball bat by the back door now, in hopes of being able to use it on the next thief. Of course, thieves have more rights than I do, and when challenged in court the ACLU musters defense for these types of folks whose rights are just continually violated.

I digress. About 3 months later I started getting calls from collection agencies on the bills I had rung up on credit cards I had taken out since the summer. Seems I had opened a Target Account, an account at Old Navy (yes, I'm 62 and buy almost ALL my fucking clothes at Old Navy - gotta look hip), and several other accounts. About $20k in all. It took me about a year to recover from this and my credit report is STILL not clean. It takes 7 + years to rinse through the system.

Theft number 2 has just happened. Somebody used my debit card number (not the card - I have the card) used the number and my PIN number to empty my bank account. They did it at two different retail stores in Seattle. My bank is working with me to clear the debt.

At first I thought it was some low life street bum or some such person. Now I'm thinking it was probably someone with some savvy. Probably some banker who got shorted on his bonus this year from federal TARP funds who needed to make up for the shortfall in his income, now that he can't make loans to people who don't have the money to pay them back. Or - maybe a Boeing machinist who can't strike for a few more years.

It's always something...

Internets:

They really are all around us. The insufferables. It's been creeping up on me, this notion that they were out there. Why I haven't noticed before I don't know. I nearly succumbed today. Yes, internets, I nearly met the fate experienced by this poor fellow here, head exploding. Coffee in hand this morning I browsed my news connections on line. Who hasn't seen all the stuff about the 4 fallen officers in Seattle - and I wanted to ruminate a bit more on the final chapters on this event, namely the memorial service et.al.

I wandered down the page and came upon the comment scroll. I read a few. Some folks were going on and on about why the fuss? Why all the expense? They're dead!! Why all this for these and nary a blippo on all the needless deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan? Ble bla, bla, yammer, yammer...hey I'm a veteran why ain't I got this? Oh, and there was this one guy (I assume a guy) who called himself "thanx4the exhaust" or something like that. HIS beef was all the exhaust fumes being expended by the cop cars 'n such while that Omamma-bama fella was over in Europe on this global green warming conference, yammer, yammer. What - The - Fuck, buddy? WTF? And it dawned on me. He was an insufferable. My head was turning red and my eyes were popping - and I nearly fell into the trap. Some folks did. they had quite a little rant - a- rant, tete-a-tete going on. God!!

Well, on with my work, and the encountering of my share of the other insufferables who will cross my path today. Cross my path. Today.

Insanity beckons me

Internets -

A friend of mine recently sent me an Imogen Heap music video and said their life was like that. I downloaded Imogen and have fallen in love with her music. And, yes. I can see 'Take the Next Train Home' as something that relates. Got me to thinking. What describes my life these days. roller coaster. I have become a manic/depressive. I'm an architect. That means I've basically searched for work ever since I got into this inane profession. You wait, die, kill for any kind of work. To find anyone who will pay you do do a design. That's all over now. Greed took over. And we're going through a "period of adjustment" now, getting back to normal. Bottom line is, all the bankers have pulled credit in tighter than a guy's balls who just jumped into the north sea.

I love/hate the profession. And I just want out. Then I get a prospective client and hope springs. Then they go away. Of course, we submit for the public work around Seattle. Libraries, city halls, senior centers. If you're lucky you get about 1 in 100 projects. Competing with all the self serving, self proclaimed great, narcissistic architectural firms around Seattle. What a bunch of insufferable dreamers. Design for the client? No way. Design for the AIA award. Design for the coffee table book. Design for your place as an AIA fellow. I truly hate them all. Myself included for thinking I could ever, ever be as good as the awesome, talented, yes, even God-like Seattle architects. I bow in humility. I just want out. And they will say "good riddance" to me. I'm a piece of dirt under their tables. and I will say. I will just say - goodbye. BANG! Dark.

A passion discovered

Internets:

I'm a drummer. Or...I have become one. Or, actually, I have always been a drummer and now it has come upon me. I'm like, 60+ frickin' years old and have been hearing, listening, memorizing absorbing beat and rhythm ever since I started listening to Buddy Holly late at night on KOMA and WLS in the 50's. Gee-Zus! I have the drum tracks of almost every rock song on the charts since 1962 - in my brain. It has been an unrealized obsession.

Education? Nope. Can't read music to speak of. Training? Nope. I took 3 months of lessons in 2002 from a cool guy who played for Lou Rawls and others. Too expensive so I faded that out to black. I just do it. And, yeah, I've come to the opinion that I am not good enough - yet.

Things that have held my passion throughout my life have always driven me to an obsession of mastery, precision and perfection. There have been three of these. One, art. Two (chortle if you must) bowling, and three, my drums. My spouse and daughter will attest to the fact that there are absolutely no other things I have ever done that the words mastery, precision and perfection come close to describing. I suck at pretty much all else.

So, yeah. I bought a drum set in 2002. Always wanted one. You remember the one crystal that superman laid into the crystal control panel in that ice palace or whatever the fuck it was up on the north pole? and all this shit started moving and melting and happening? That's what my drum set did to me. It is still doing it. I am obsessed with rhythm and how you can paint the music with it. And how precise it can be.

I've started doing studio track recording now for one of the bands I'm in and it had elevated me to a new plateau. Oh, god, the perfection you can achieve. Can achieve. Not always. And I listen to music I've heard for 40+ years and hear the drum tracks and marvel at the perfection - and yeah the mistakes I can now hear. Subtle, but you can hear them.

I play in 4 different bands now. Some more active than others. It has come upon me and I am swept away in it.

Rock on.............