Tag: The Week

Cloister Commentary, Day 167: Not All Bad

Continued from Day 166, the saga of Phil and
Jane and the SSA. I was determined to find an uncomplicated way to change Mom’s direct deposit info without an excruciating phone call leading to futility, so I a) decided to just drive down and visit her, partially because I suspected we’d need to be in the same room, on the same phone, b) thought I’d test the waters first, call Mom’s local SSA office, and, um, assertively ask about the best process to accomplish our lofty goal. The unfortunate agent who answered the phone had to listen to me tersely, then with rising volume, describe the whole story (I’m bad about set-ups), while she tried in vain to interrupt me. It was fun! However, when I finally stopped to take a breath, she interjected, “Sir, just let me call your mom directly and I’ll do this for her in a couple minutes. Call her and have her get the checkbooks together, and tell her I’ll ring her in 30 minutes!” Wait what? And she did just what she said. To paraphrase the title of a section of the news magazine The Week, it’s not all bad. What’s the lesson learned, Phil? My cousin Rob has told me twice but I imperfectly listened: always call your local SSA office first.

Still, I decided to drive down and see Mom. We had Mexican food and margaritas, and watched basketball and tennis. And we FaceTimed with Nicole. Tomorrow I will again contact the insurance company that, despite three calls from me, still haven’t sent me the accidental death paperwork they owe me from Dad’s policy (these calls have spanned over two months, so I’ve been patient), and possibly reference a lawyer. Also, as I thumb this out on my phone, I’m watching the morning news: the flood of human-issued sludge oozes unabated.

But…it’s not ALL bad. I hope I get a similarly smart, sweet, and efficient customer service agent today.

Streaming for Strivers:

A humble request. You have to listen to the title song to understand.

Cloister Commentary, Day 88: Meld

My offerings in this journal have been spare of late, at least it seems that way to me. Funny–I just read this in the opening editorial of a recent issue of The Week, penned by editor-in-chief William Falk: “a shifting combination of anger, hopelessness, and ‘numbness’ has set in, as bland, featureless days meld into one another and losses mount.” While I’m not sure I’ve been touched by all those extremes–wait, I have. Anyway, I think it’s affecting my “correspondence.”

That much griped-about Zoom class (prior to its having begun, that is) has turned into a daily delight and refuge. Much of my recent activities have been connected to a sudden loss–yesterday that would have been a very high percentage of them–and the intelligence, curiosity, humor, and diligence of these young women have left me wishing I was teaching 90-minute instead of 60-minute classes, and forgetting that loss temporarily. They’re hungry writers very desirous of improvement, and their first final drafts show that.

I’m not feeling that my life has been diminished by the absence from it of sports. I get my daily baseball, basketball, and hockey “Stathead” e-mails, which are necessarily about past accomplishments, and that slaked my thirst. I got stuck with StubHub credit from a cancelled NBA game, so that helps me not to yearn.

We spent a total of at least five hours trying to get our health provider to submit a recent doctor visit and procedure claim to the correct insurance company. We talked to at least eight people and five departments, but–knock hard on wood–the battle appears to have been won.

Beautiful night, beautiful morning. More of those, please.

Streaming for Strivers:

This one’s place in the hip hop pantheon is frequently ignored. Ease back!