Three Little Words...

[Timothy R. Kuhr]

Didn't I say devious!!??
Drywall, I love it! Unfortunately, due to "corporate down-sizing" I'm looking for a job after 18 years and don't want to be associated with management types(re- kenmar) - bad on the resume. However, I'm still getting offers to my brother and father - both deceased- so...

[Timothy R. Kuhr]

Wazza,
Me Da spent some time downunder after touring the 'Canal, New Britain and various isles. Couldn't say enough good about it (though he spent his time in Melbourne, not Sidney). Was a bit ticked at me for taking my R&Rs in Taipei and Bankok instead of looking up his old friends. (Got a 2nd R&R for extending my "tour").
Dad went back twice to visit, including a side trip to the 'Canal to salute the grave of SgtMjr Fouza - anybody remember him down there?

[Seascamp]

I have yet to buy anything from a telemarketer and cannot foresee an instance where I would. I guess I?m old fashion in that I make up my mind what I need, as opposed to some voice on the telephone telling me what I need. But yet, the rings go on and on. Although that is annoying, I get really concerned as to who is selling my name and what info are they selling. As well, there must be a lot of fish in the pond or there wouldn?t be any fishermen and I?m finding that curious as all hell. Are people really that gullible and think that they need someone sell them grossly overpriced goods and/or services and purport them to be a real deal. Make no sense to me at all

My real hot button is things showing up on my credit card bills and someone purporting that I signed up for some damn thing or another. Horse turds, no frigging way, so they get a pandamanical call and the charges go away. I suppose the next scam will be a super, mega, hyper premium Gold card that marketers can?t attempt to dump trash memberships or goods into just cause they think I won?t notice. Aarrgg, run the bags O? fart through Jim Boy, aarrgg.

Scamp

[Wazza]

Tim,
Can't say that I know of him but I'll ask my dad, he's a WWII vet. who was in the islands.

I took R&R in Hong Kong for shopping. Everyone I know who went to Bankok had their minds below their waist. LOL

[Timothy R. Kuhr]

Wazza,
SgtMjr Fouza was a member of the British Constabulatory (SP) Police - a native member on the 'Canal. Got captured behind the lines, tortured and left for dead. He survived and came through the Marine lines with info on the Japanese positions. Dad said he had the biggest grin and the biggest knife you ever saw! Got patched up and took them both back into the jungle.

[Timothy R. Kuhr]

Wazza,
you went shopping in Hong Kong, and Bankok was a totally cultural extravagandza for me, uh huh, uh huh. Aside from the obviously obvious (we're too old too lie about it), Bangkok Was a great sight! The canals and the Reclining Buddha were fantastic. Timland was fun but I never got to ride the elephant - line was tooooo long. Beautiful temples, more of them than churches in Rome! - couldn''t turn around without tripping over a monk. Where did they get all that gold leaf? Never saw the Bridge on the River Kwai - didn't care for the movie that much. When I left, I turned out my pockets for "Anne", my guide. Damn, but we Americans are naive, but she was a great guide.

[Wazza]

Trouble with Bank Managers????

My dear Bank Manager, I am writing to thank you for bouncing the cheque with which I endeavoured to pay my plumber last month.

By my calculations some three nano-seconds must have elapsed between his presenting the cheque, and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it.

I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire salary, an arrangement which, I admit, has only been in place for eight years.

You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account by way of penalty for the inconvenience I caused your bank.

My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to re-think my errant financial ways.

You have set me on the path of fiscal righteousness. No more will our relationship be blighted by these unpleasant incidents, for I am restructuring my affairs in 2002, taking as my model the procedures, attitudes and conduct of your very own bank.

I can think of no greater compliment, and I know you will be excited and proud to hear it.

To this end, please be advised about the following changes. First, I have noticed that whereas I personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try to contact you I am confronted by the impersonal, ever-changing, pre-recorded, faceless entity, which your bank has become.

From now on I, like you, chose only to deal with a flesh and blood person. My mortgage and loan repayments will, therefore and hereafter, no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank by personal cheque, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee of you branch, whom you must nominate.

You will be aware that it is an offence under the Post & Telegraph Act for any other person to open such an envelope.

Please find attached an Application for Contact Status, which I require your chosen employee to complete.

I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative.

Please note that all copies of his/her medical history must be countersigned by a Justice of the Peace, and that the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof.

In due course, I will issue your employee with a PIN number, which he/she must quote in all dealings with me.

I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of button presses required to access my account balance on your phone-bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Let me level the playing field even further by introducing you to my new telephone system, which you will notice, is very much like yours.

My Authorised Contact at your bank, the only person with whom I will have any dealings, may call me at any time and be answered by an automated voice.

By pressing the buttons on the phone, he/she will be guided through an extensive set of menus:

# 1 - to make an appointment to see me,
# 2 - to query a missing repayment,
# 3 - to make a general complaint or inquiry, and so on.

The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service.

While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration.

This month I have chosen a refrain from The Best of Woody Guthrie:

Oh the banks are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults are filled with silver
That the miners sweated for!

After twenty minutes of that, our mutual contact will probably know it off by heart.

On a more serious note, we come to the matter of cost. As your bank has often pointed out, the ongoing drive for greater efficiency comes at a cost - a cost which you have always been quick to pass on to me.

First, there is the matter of advertising material you send me. This I will read for a fee of $20 per A4 page. Secondly, inquiries from your nominated contact will be billed at $5 per minute of my time spent in response.

Any debits to my account, such as for example, the matter of the penalty for the dishonoured cheque, will be passed back to you.

My new phone number service runs at 75 cents per minute (even Woody Guthrie doesn't come free), so keep your inquiries brief and to the point.

Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.

May I wish you a happy, if ever-so-slightly less prosperous, New Year!

Your humble client.

[Seascamp]

Well Waz,
There it is-the purest juice of the prune. I?m thinking I?ll integrate your letter to Yank English and send it off to my self-righteous but ever error-prone banking institution.

Nice work and good thinking. You fellows are indeed ornery, for sure. But I just get a big kick out of the way ya?ll handle business and the Australian sense of humor. You sure you arn't Scotsmen?

Scamp



I suppose my letter would open up like "Listen up nit brain, here we go again"