And Then, A Digital World...

   But first, a couple of days ago, did you see that fellow who purports to be the head gaffer of the Ukrankies saying they planned to keep fighting to keep their countries independence? Oh, and for a united Europe. Independence and united Europe? Go figure.
   Then there was the Dover queues which have followed the same advice as the airport delays. Expect delays of up to four hours so be sure to rock up at least two hours early thus again confirming their belief that six hours queuing beats a measly four.
   I also see the media have got their timing a tad out as they’re squealing about drought warnings as the rain hammers my windows.
   Now to that digital money world we may well be plunged into if Sad-sack gets the top job.
   Went to the bank this morning to pay my tax. Hell, happy to help, as those gimmigrant hotels don’t come cheap, right? Anyhoo, I was met at the door by a member of staff who was posted there to turn customers away owing to the fact the branch had lost contact with the outside world and the banks computers. My offer of the use of my phone if it was important was met with a look that said, ’Oh boy, my turn on the door and I get-a-nutter.’ 
   A Digital currency anyone? And I’m guessing that reserve of folding stuff stuffed under the mattress will be banned and become useless as well. Could be interesting{?} times ahead.
   It’s going to be a gruelling fight but we shall overcome. Sadly, us ‘we’ folk are dying out leaving only the - digital money? That sounds so, like, awesome - folk left.

Quote;  Najah Roberts.

“A smooth sea never produced a skilled sailor.”

And Then A Donation...

Several moons ago, upon retirement, I had a little money to find a home for, a home that would earn interest. Yeah, I know.

Anyhoo, I done did find an online account with a building society that paid a tad plus above base rate so opened an account electing for the interest to be paid monthly to another bank wherein resided a working, day-to-day account.

This has worked seamlessly for a long time but, suddenly, the interest didn’t show up in the working account at the usual time. To interrupt a moment, next day it was there but before that, I logged into the building society site and sure enough the interest was showing in the out column dated a couple of days before.

However, what caught my eye was another figure in the ‘out’ column of just below a pound. Whoa, what be this then? On a closer look, it was labelled as a  Charitable Donation. Wot to do? Stand back in amazement and do a little research.

You know wot? In their terms, unless you opt out, they take the pennies of any interest and donate it to a host of charities. Well thank you very big for that. Okay, it’s buttons but they be my buttons and over time, enough buttons to secure a shirt and jacket.

I’m  quietly confident that I would have opted out when opening the account and as it’s just started it could be an error on their part. Most likely as I’m happy to report that one E-mail resulted in a credit and an end to me funding, however minimally, Sexual Predators International.

Just shows that you really do have to keep looking over your shoulder.

Quote;  Bertolt Brecht.

“It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by holding up a bank clerk.”

And Then, You Can Bank On It….

As best I can make out, the guy who was top dog at one of our major banks was, allegedly, and in no specific order, a church chap, a financial illiterate, a drug user and a loin ender.  You have to wonder about the interview system employed by that banking group and it’s obvious it didn’t run along the lines of, “Please tell us what experience you have of running a major financial institution.”
”Err, actually, none.”
”Thanks. We’ll let you know.”
End of.

And now our glorious politicians are falling over each other to blame anyone but themselves – partily or collectively. They’re obviously playing for time and a ‘report’ that will lay all the blame for this debacle firmly in the dish of Mr Flowers cat. Bad cat! Nothing else to see here; move along.

The latest politico wheeled out today to talk without saying anything was that nice boy, Grant Shapps, who, it seems is never off the TV and/or the radio and appears to have more air time that Biggles. Another thing. have you noticed you never see Sherpa Shapps below the waist? Could this be because the school he’s obviously still attending, has a dress code that precludes the wearing of long trousers below a certain age?

All us folk down here can do is watch and wonder at this latest debacle and wait for the next which, as sure as eggs is eggs, is just round the corner. Possibly not that corner, but no further along the road than that corner just down there.

For all those involved in this disaster and presently scrambling around to become uninvolved, you may enjoy this.

And here’s that Sherpa fellow warming up the committee that’s been formed to oversee the selection of a committee that will seek to find a myriad of ways to bury any inconvenient findings found out about a bank.

Quote;  Dan Quayle.

“Bank failures are caused by depositors who don't deposit enough money to cover losses due to mismanagement.”

And Then I Banked On It….

Remember my little nest of vipers wanted to stay with the horsy bank after that bank split-up thingy? No? Got to agree it wasn't all that memorable. Anyhoo, the up-shot was we'd get a couple of letters, one of which would containing a telephone number to, believe it or not, call to do the necessary. 

True to official form, nothing happened so what to do. Throw plan 'B' into action is what we done did.

Step one; down to horsy bank and open new accounts for her. That worked surprisingly well with the promise of the relevant card arriving by weeks end. {Now received, signed and ready to be lost at her earliest convenience.}
Step two; down to the other bank to close accounts and move money.

I started to explain to the teller what we wanted to do but early in my explanation she interrupted and, with that smirk that suggested she was  far more au fait with the intricacies of this request than us, explained the complexities that could be encountered unless their own experts handled the matter for us. At this point I interrupted her, and with a smirk that suggested I was ready for this and considered myself to be on a winner, explained that, having given their experts a chance, we'd gone ahead and, all on our own and by ourselves, done all the groundwork and thus new accounts where already in place, we'd confirmed the two banks were still technologically linked so the remaining process should be simplicity itself. 

She rapidly regrouped and informed us that the requested action couldn't be done from there.
"That's strange." Said I with my bestest worried facial expression. "I tried the butchers next door, the bakers over the road and, in the absence of a candlestick maker, the nearby dog grooming parlour, and they all informed me they couldn't do what we required and were all of the opinion that my best bet was the bank. This bank."

Her expression now suggested someone who wished they'd paid more attention to that part of the bank-workers course that dealt with the action to be taken when a nutter makes it to your tellers window.
"Errrrr, I mean I can't do it from this terminal. You'll need to see our Account Closing Manager."
"Got ya'! Please point us in the general direction of the Account Closing persons office and the account closing we'll then be doing."
"Can't do that I'm afraid." She smiled, indicating she wasn't even the slightest little bit afraid. "You'll need to make an appointment and the next slot I've got is for two."
"Perfect! Any better and I couldn't stand it as there are, indeed, exactly two of us!"
"What?!? I'm talking time. Two o'clock."
"Oh boy, oh boy!! That's a tad early is it not? But never mind, we'll be here. Do we ring a bell or something? Or will the door be open, the alarm off and we just walk in and shout, 'Hellooo'?"

Two things then quickly happened to the counter lady. Her hand started to move down towards the alarm button and I was conscious of a whooshing sound that seemed to emanate from a point about three feet above her head. 

Her demeanour changed once again as her thought process finally kicked in. "That's very droll. That's two o'clock this afternoon so you'll have a bit of a wait."
Checking my watch I exclaimed, "Whoa!! fourteen hundred hours!"
With yet another dramatic change of expression she jumped in with, "What? No, no you don't have to wait fourteen hundred hours! That'd be really silly. You've only two hours to wait. It's already twelve o'clo………. Oh." And, just audible above the whooshing noises, "Damn!"

The 'Oh' and 'Damn' were sure indications that she was slowly catching on, too late, to this verbal rubbish.

The rest of the day passed boringly normally. Other than, "Are there any direct debits associated with these accounts?"
"You mean like so she can help pay household bills an' stuff like that? You are kidding, right?"

Quote;  Paula Poundstone.

"I don't have a bank account because I don't know my mother's maiden name."

And Then A Bank Job….

Before I start and before you start prowling the Web-a-Net for the latest tricky moves by ol' Backtrack, or should that now be Caught on the Backfoot O'barmy, Wlly, Egg On A Stick, Vague and Robust Dave, don your headphones and click the link down the way and let the sound accompany you as you brows your way round the world an' back. 

Pleasant, it be. It goes by the easily remembered title, SOUL FUNKY,FUNKY JAZZ,FUNKY LAZZ IN THE MIX. Make of that what you will but don't let it put you off. The bestest bit? Move that slidy thingy at the bottom along to 11 minutes. It's simple, repetitive, as am I, and relaxing. I've also added a link to that drop down deal called Stuff You May Like, which a good friend suggested should be renamed Stuff I Like.

Okay, here we go then. Yesterday Lloyds TSB Bank became Lloyds Bank and the TSB bit became, again, the listening bank – TSB. So far, so what? The 'so what' is my little nest of vipers had two accounts with Lloyds TSB which are now stranded in the TSB bit.

So what? So no big deal other than she wants to be with that black horse. Why? You may well ask and, anticipating that, ask I did. "I like the big black horse and the TV logo is nice." {For 'logo' read advert, by the way.} Unable, or lacking the will, to argue with this, we headed off to resolve the situation. Spot the mistake there? …to resolve the situation. As if that was ever going to happen.

First stop was her old Lloyd branch wot is now TSB and is where her 'new' accounts still reside. Listening bank? Scratch that right now. The only offering was to find a Lloyds branch and they'll do it. Any other questions where met with stony, but polite silence and a stonier, but equally polite, look.

We found a Lloyds branch, spookily close to the TSB branch, and repeated our wish, a simple wish as she has an account left with Lloyds for some mysterious reason. Why was one account left out from the move jobby? How and why did that happen then? No answer was there forthcoming from either end. 

"Right, this is what you need to do. Phone this number to get things moving and after that it's pretty much automatic. It'll take about eight weeks to complete the transfer."
"Eight weeks? About the same length of time before you start charging for an inadvertent overdraw situation then."
"Errrrr….. Any thing else I can help you with?"
"Got any free samples?"
"Errrr…"
"We be out o' here then. Have a mind numbingly boring and unproductive day. Bubye." 

Home to the phone. Guess who the number was for? TSB. Can't do it in the shop? Totally securely? Have to do it on an unsecured phone line giving name, account number, address and phone number? For security reasons? Oh, dear Prism me.

What happens next? "In two weeks you'll get a letter. Then you'll get another letter with a phone number. You'll need to call that number to do the transfer. Bubye."
"Wait!! Wait!! What's the first letter for?" That earned the sound of a phone being hastily put down.

The obvious thing we should've done is go to the bank with a very small paper bag, withdraw all the kelly, place it all in the very small paper bag, shut the 'new' accounts, popped over the road and opened a new one. Although I have to say I'm rather excited to see what letter number one is all about, probably to alert us to the fact a second letter, with a phone number, is imminent, and also the delight of a phone call that'll quite possibly be to a computer which may be the reason it'll take eight weeks.

Quote;  Henry Ford.

“It is well enough that people of the nation do not understand our banking and monetary system, for if they did, I believe there would be a revolution before tomorrow morning.” 

            Christopher Rice.

“Everyday is a bank account, and time is our currency. No one is rich, no one is poor, we've got 24 hours each.” 

            Bertolt Brecht.

"It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by holding up a bank clerk."