"I'm Mad As Hell...."

I hear ya, Howard Beale.

It's happened again in the wonderful little universe I call Len.

My writing partner signed onto his on-line bank account to find that his money had been drained out like the town pool at the end of the summer. His hard earned money was used by some skell in Brazil. Supermarkets, pet stores, department stores all south of the Equator. A professional job indeed. The rat bastard was crafty enough to keep every single purchase under sixty bucks, so none of it would be flagged as suspicious activity.

This would all fall under the banner of "annoying news" except for the fact that this has happened before. To both of us. Multiple times. Between the two of us, a couple of normal run-of-the-mill White guys, we have been financially poached a grand total of seven times collectively over the past three years. Just what are the odds of that?

Neither of us is stupid. We don't post our debit card numbers on bathroom walls at the Cheesecake Factory. I very carefully cover my area whenever prompted for my PIN number. Indeed, I think we're all very safe using plastic money when in reputable restaurants, stores, etc.. As we both tracked back on the felonies perpetrated on us over the years, we found a common thread tied to these crimes. All of them happened when we momentarily let a credit or debit card get out of our hands for a moment.

The pizza delivery guy that has to run his card. The cab driver that needs to have my card swiped through one of those machines as I return home from the airport. Those instances where we, for a nanosecond, are too trusting and cede momentary control of our lives.

And, in all of the above cases, the culprit was Hispanic and/or Black.

Sorry. I'm not trying to paint everybody with one brush. But, this is a statement of truth. One of those factoids no one is allowed to verbalize in public. Because if you do dare speak the truth, you can be labeled as a hatemonger or a racist.

Oh, sure, there are White people who commit crimes. And I can say that freely here. But, if I connote our credit card thefts to someone with a skin tint several shades darker than mine, I am counseled that I can't say such a thing.

Yet, when a Black cab driver bitches to me about having to run my Amex card and two days later I am paying for over five thousand dollars of Greyhound bus tickets from a terminal in South Central LA, aren't those dots imminently connectable?

No, wait, I'm not supposed to say that.

I relayed all this frustration to the wrong friend a few days ago. He explained that all this crime was happening because of the frustration around the lagging economy. Perhaps people are really desperate when they have to feed their children.

Oh, boo fucking hoo.

About a year ago, I was forced to lay off four people in a corporate downsizing. Two men, two women. Three White, one Black. Except for the absence of a Hispanic person, this is a pretty good cross section of our population. Well, I'm happy to announce that all four have gotten jobs. In the past year, I never heard that any of them had resorted to crime in order to pay their food bills. I'm sure the times were tough and unsettling, but they got through it.

Without the unauthorized assistance of a stranger's debit card.

Meanwhile, on one of my past card thefts, over a thousand dollars was spent on stereo equipment down in Compton. I know how dire a family's plight can be when Dad is out of work and the boom box needs an upgrade.

Wait, I'm not supposed to say that, right?

So, President Obummer last week announces all these new regulations designed to keep banks and credit companies from gouging us all with fees. Don't get me wrong. Some of those charges are astronomical. But, I'm a weird guy. I tend not to get involved with a credit card that has the ability to raise the interest rate another 10 percent every six months. They're not doing that in secret, you know. It's always covered in all that fine print you so quickly signed off on when you ordered that new credit card. Sure, it's in a font size that could fit on the back of an aspirin, but it's there. In reality, the credit card company has done nothing wrong. And, surprise, surprise, in our happy world of free enterprise, they're a business and looking to make money. How dare they?

And, for every fatcat banking executive sitting in a Lincoln Town Car on top of a mound of an annual bonus, that same company also employs hundreds of worker bees also trying to put food on the table. If you restrict what that company can do to stay afloat, who gets thrown under the bus? The dude in middle management. The administrative assistant. The kid in the mailroom. They're all out of jobs now.

Ever wonder why credit card fees always get raised? Greed may be a portion of the equation, but not all of it. After all, where do you think a credit card company gets the money when they have to pay out for the five thousand dollars of bus tickets I didn't buy? The asshole has his trip to Bumfuck, Alabama and my account is credited for this fraud. But, Greyhound still got their dough. In truth, can you really blame the credit card company for raising a fee? How else can they pay for all the crime that has pretty allowed the thieves to get off scott free? And get a nice big hug from Auntie Bertha.

Since I'm now saying a lot of things that I'm not supposed to say, let me continue.

Healthcare reform. Yes, insurance companies can get a little piggy when it comes to large numbers at the bottom of their bills. But, again, they need to pay some freight to stay in business. Why is that so much harder these days? Ever look at an emergency room where non-emergencies are hogging up time and money? Tax dollars wasted because somebody would rather "use the system" than go to a regular physician when little Shaniqua has the sniffles. A good reason to overhaul the whole industry, right? I'll let you know the answer in ten years or so when I really need some medicine that I will no longer be eligible to get.

Yes, I know. I'm not supposed to say that.

Those banks are in a pickle, too. Overly regulated to the max since Jimmy Carter and his hillbilly family were keeping their broken washing machine on the White House south lawn, lenders were forced to give out mortgages to a bunch of people who had absolutely no business owning a home. So, when these lowlifes can't pay their mortgage because they just had to buy their kid that expensive pair of sneakers Kobe Bryant's been wearing, the whole housing market and our national economy collapses like Brittany Murphy in a shower stall. Yes, let's stop those evil banking nabobs at the top from getting their annual bonuses. But, in the process, even more lowly slobs pay the price. Truly industrious people who won't be able to make ends meet. And they won't have the luxurious benefit of my debit card.

I am sick to everloving death of listening to the morons in Washington prattling on and on about how big business is greedy and corrupt. Oh, sure, I bet some of their profit margins are padded. But they also are trying to stay afloat in light of how they are being robbed deaf, dumb, and blind by segments of our society who feel they are owed so much for doing so little.

Yes, I know. I'm not supposed to say that.

What I can say without reproach is that my credit and debit cards now have so many firewalls attached that I'm surprised even I can spend my own money. All because of that phantom creep out there. I can acknowledge that he does indeed exist.

I just can't say he's Hispanic or Black.

Even if he is.

Dinner last night: Bacon turkey burger at Islands.