Feb. 3rd, 2011 03:34 pm
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[personal profile] book_of_daniel
About 100,000 years ago...give or take a full moon or two...a slightly younger version of myself had an entirely different life.  At the age of 18 I packed everything I could into my 1982 Ford Mustang and got the hell out of Dodge.  I wasnt enrolled in school although my parents may have been under a different set of assumptions.  (There was a divorce brewing.  They had a lot on their minds and wasnt really paying attention.)  With 200 dollars in cash and more than a little hutzpah, I landed in Boston, Massachusetts to make a name for myself, be as gay as I could be, and begin my ascent into fabulosity.

Jesus God I was stupid.

While unquestionably stupid, I have to say I wasn't a complete idiot.  Within six months I had two jobs, a stable place to live, and one or two friends with which to split value priced menu items from Mikkie Dee's. One of the aforementioed jobs was at what was once called a "community bank".  Granted, this was 100,000 years ago and things were slightly different.  People would bring in their sparkly rocks and animal skins into the bank, I'd put them in the back with the other sparkly rocks, and make slash marks on the cave wall to indicate their deposit. It was all very civilized.  So civilized, in fact, that I decided to start a retirement account.  19 years old and I thought I needed to worry about retirement.

No, I know what you're thinking but you'd be wrong.  I wasn't smart. I wasn't foreward thinking and mature.  Once again, I was stupid. A 19 year old with two jobs, two roommates, and a rusting Mustang just does not have the cash equity to begin savings for retirement:  a fact I learned very quickly and harshly.  Within two months I'd stopped my retirement contributions in lieu know...eating...and promptly forgot about the $78 dollars in some faceless corporate account sure that I'd never see it again.

This organization, the CBERA, did not forget about me though.  For years they'd send me statements showing my $78 dollars and for years I'd just throw the statements in the trash.  Eventually the statements stopped coming and for that I was glad.  I was no longer reminded of my failure and that was just fine by me. 

Again with the stupid.

Fast forward to the now.  While looking at my teeny tiny retirement account at Denim Hell, I noticed a side account with $633 dollars just kind of hanging out with mine at T.Rowe Price Retirement, Inc.  I had no idea or recollection what the account was so I just assumed it was some Gap thingee I'd forgotten about.  
You see, dumb is fleeting.  Stupid leaves a stain that lasts a lifetime.

Eventually I got curious enough about the account to make a few calls and lo and behold, my little $78 dollars from Norwood Cooperative Bank had grown up into a little $633 account from Norwood Cooperative Bank.  (I believe that's the approximate spelling of the bank's name.  At the time we just used animal symbols and what y'all now call hyerogliphics.) 

More calls were made and I decided to just roll the little bit of history into my anemic Denim Hell acount and be done with it.  It all seemed like such a civilized idea at the time.

That was four sets of paperwork ago.  I'm no longer civil.

My third set of signatures went to into the mouth of Satan's retirement plan last week and today I got the phone call I was expecting telling me that they'd forgotten something else and could I please fax a new draft in as soon as possible, thank you very much? 

Voices were raised.  Inuendos about farm animal/human parentages may have been made.  It's all a blur.

So what's this post about?  Hell if I know.  I haven't posted at all this month and this seemed like as good a topic as any. I'm rusty at this.  Perhaps if there's a moral to this story it's that one should never question the animal husbandry skills of the retirement associate handling your shiny rocks and animal skins from the Paleozoic era.  

Yeah.  That'll work.  More wisdom to come shortly...  Rusty wisdom from the Paleozoic era...

Date: 2011-02-03 11:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I have at least one abandoned account, back there....I have abandoned property out here, too, it seems!

The hieroglyphs aside, the phonetic equivalent would be, the beevuh does.

Date: 2011-02-04 01:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
With 200 dollars in cash and more than a little hutzpah, I landed in Boston, Massachusetts to make a name for myself, be as gay as I could be, and begin my ascent into fabulosity.

Jesus God I was stupid.

At least you made a good effort of it, which is more than can be said for some people.... er, not that I'd know anyone fitting that description, of course.


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