I
ventured into new and frightening waters yesterday. I tried to sign up for Medicare and social
security. Absolutely terrifying. Oh, they assured me that everything could be
done online in the privacy of your own home.
What they failed to mention was the reason it is set up that way. It is so they can throw evil darts at you
through the computer screen and no one will be the wiser.
It
took me about an hour and a half to complete what was supposed to be about a
twenty minute form. Many of the
questions I just ended up guessing at. I
decided to treat the whole thing like a cratchety old coot who had little
experience with computers. You know … as
myself. I finally waded all the way
through it and pushed the Send button.
Finished, right? Well, no.
Then
they told me I had to set up a “My Social Security” online account. It would be my lifeline – the only way I
could get accurate, up to the minute information about my account. Sounded intimidating. So I launched into yet another online
form. But this one only got as far as the
security questions. That’s where it got
a little weird. I was expected to answer
four harmless questions. Right. Question One related to a mortgage I haven’t had
in nine years. Question Two asked about a
credit account that hasn’t been open since way before Hurricane Ike. I think I got question three right. I at least recognized one of the credit card
names. And Question Four I completely
nailed. It listed four telephone numbers
and asked which one used to be ours. Answer? “E.
None of the above.” And I was
summarily ejected from the game. “Your
answers do not match up with the information we have on file. You may try again in 24 hours.” I challenged them on it and tried to start
from the beginning. Nope. They remembered that I was the miscreant who didn’t
remember his own credit history. “Your
answers do not match up with the information we have on file. You may try again in 24 hours.” This time, however, I read the fine
print. Ah, there it was. A telephone number to speak to a real human
being.
The
call was placed. The computer
answered. Very pleasant voice. Informed me the wait time to speak with one
of those elusive human types was no less than 40 minutes. I plugged in my phone and went about other
business. Finally a real voice came on
the line. After the obligatory small
talk she asked the dreaded “security question.”
I fully expected to have to give her the third line of page 73 of the documents
we signed when we purchased our first house back in the 1970’s. I braced myself. And the question was … “What is your mother’s
maiden name?” Wait. That’s it?
Why didn’t the questionnaire just use that one? That one I knew. Of course it helped that I just happen to
have been named after my mother’s maiden name.
I had that one. She was a kind
individual who helped me understand that the strange questions were taken from
an Experian credit report. I told her I had
a copy of the same report, and I still couldn’t find the answers. She said she would free up the block so I
could try again, but that if I had more trouble, it might help to just go to
the local social security office in person.
Well, OK.
Needless
to say, I tried again. This time, when I
got to the security questions, it asked things that could only have been
answered if I had access to … wait for it … my son Kelley, Jr.’s credit
history. Yep. “Your answers do not match up with the information
we have on file. You may try again in 24
hours.” Aargh.
Well,
not to be deterred, I looked up the address of the social security office and
headed over there. And … it was not there. No sign that it had ever been at that
address. Puzzled, I looked it up again
on my phone. Different address there,
but it had a phone number, so I called. “We’re
sorry, but this number has been disconnected.”
Of course it has. At that I decided
to go by the office of the Osher LifeLong Learning Institute. They put on classes for old folks like
me. Surely they would know. When I asked the lady at the desk she
immediately said, “Oh, it used to be right by my house (where I had just come from), but that one shut down a long time ago
(Of course it did).” She looked it up online and lo and behold,
there it was. The most recent
address. In League City, Texas. Not even on the Island any longer. Of course not. So did I immediately drive off Island to
check it out? Um, nope. I may go up there later this morning. But that was enough treading water in governmental
pools of red tape for me for one day.
Psalms
46:1-3 says, “God is our refuge and
strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth
give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters
roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.”
Father,
thank you for the kind voices that I heard in this most recent ordeal. I’m sure they don’t get many happy campers
during their day. Amen.
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