Alan Cordle

I realize I’m privileged to even have health care coverage, so I feel somewhat guilty to lodge this complaint.  I’ve had a cold for about a week.  Since Friday I’ve lost my voice.  So even though I don’t feel awful, I keep thinking that maybe I should get this checked out in case it’s SWINE flu.

This morning I called my wife’s primary care physician.  (I don’t want to go back to mine — that’s another rant).  I asked if I could have an appointment with Dr. Slack (her real name) and the guy on the phone said, “She has openings at 9:15, 9:30, 9:45, and one at 11:00.”  It was already 9, so I said, “Great!  I’ll take the 9:45.”  Then he asks, “Have you seen Dr. Slack before?”  I said, “No, but she’s my wife’s doctor.”  Without missing a beat, he said, “Well that’s going to change things a bit.  She won’t be able to see you today.  She needs a 1/2 hour with new patients. “  So I asked, “What if I take the 9:30 and 9:45 appointments?”  His response, “New patients can’t have back to backs.  The earliest I can get you in is Thursday.”

“Uh.  No thanks,” I managed to croak before I lost my voice again.

Seriously, does he or anyone think she was going to fill those appointment times with less than an hour’s notice?  What’s up with that?

My son has always believed that he was not a victim in 2005. But I believe he’s a victim now. Exploited, deceived and betrayed by a friend and a “mentor” (?) for his own political gain. It saddens me that my son’s credibility was the one that was the focal point in the Attorney General’s report. Perhaps the outcome would’ve been different if Mr. Adam’s acknowledged his actions truthfully to the investigators as he did earlier with my son. Apparently, he was aware of the Oregon law allowing people, not under oath, the right to lie and deceive police and investigators. Maybe this law needs to be changed.

Now that we can all get back to our own lives, I hope people remember the shameful insight into the lack of honor, integrity and credibility exercised by Mr. Sam Adams.

Thank you for listening,

Gwen Roseler

Beau Breedlove’s mom

Looking around in some manila folders from the basement and OMG — I had totally and completely forgotten PF’s conversation with MS.  REALLY grateful to have that in writing.  Seriously, what a clusterfuck of idiots.  My book’s practically writing itself now.

Last week the dropout on my bike broke near the rear wheel. A guy in full cycling plumage saw me walking it from the bus and asked if I needed help. I thanked him and told him I was almost home.  You don’t really see motorists helping anyone out these days . . .

I mentioned the break to a couple of friends who cycle and almost all had stories of having some part of the frame break and the manufacturer replacing it. Still, my bike’s eight years old and in this consumer climate, I wasn’t too hopeful.

But I took it back to where I bought it: my beloved Bike Gallery. The fellow there at the time assured me Trek stands behind their products. Today I got the call telling me that since Trek no longer makes a frame that fits, I’m getting a brand new bike.

I’d tricked out my old one with road tires, fenders, etc., so there will be a small charge to move all of that, but hey: what amazing customer service! My new baby arrives next week.

I wonder if he can’t pay his mortgages because he’s trying to pay off someone else with hush money?

Thanks for sucking even more. It’s time, not just to leave your position, but maybe to think about leaving the city. You’re no longer welcome.

Back when I was shopping around for a refi, I set my FB status to something like: Alan is wondering what is a good rate for someone with FICO scores of 800+

One of the responses I got was from someone I haven’t seen in 20 years.  We lived on the same hall freshman year of college and saw each other on campus in the years after that, but never went out to eat or to clubs or anything like that.  We weren’t good friends, but when I found him on FB, I was glad enough to see him again and extended a an offer to be Facebook friends (TM).

Then he sent me this message:

Thanks for sharing your good fortune and outstanding fico score, but for those of us who are in the process of being foreclosed out of our homes, it’s a bit grating to read reports like this. I wouldn’t assume that everyone in your network is doing super extra well. In fact, I know a lot of people who are close to losing homes, have lost homes or been evicted, or are freaked out about losing their jobs. I was doing quite well, then got swindled in a business deal with a completely untrustworthy douchebag and lost everything, so it can happen to anybody. A layoff, accident, medical crisis, bad deal etc, and you are totally screwed in this country.

Don’t mean to sound like an ass, just saying I would be mindful of the fact that a lot of people are going through seriously bad times and probably don’t want to read about your fico score.

So I wrote back, as gently as I could:

I tend to think of social media as a way to gather info and that’s why I posted that — not to brag. Sorry you got screwed! I don’t know if you had/have a house and now you’re losing it, but to get the full picture, I should give you a little synopsis of the past two decades since I saw you: Kathleen and I lived in NC for five years. That was awful enough, right? We had more than 20k student loans and a 70k mortgage. I was making 17k cataloging books. K was making 30k as a prof. When we decided to give up our unhappy jobs, we moved to Portland and landed in stickershock land. I was making 34k and Kathleen had no job. She took one in Bellingham (which is 5 hours north). We saw each other on weekends for about 5 years and had to maintain two places. Then she resigned and we bought a new place here. We’re now on one income. But we realize we’ve also had some luck real-estate-wise. It certainly wasn’t ’cause we’re savvy. So again, not trying to gloat; we’ve just been fortunate, but it hasn’t been easy either.

Yours,
Al

He never responded. Was I out of line?

in no particular order . . .

1. Lights appear on the foreheads of various people in the neighborhood.  It looks like laser targets before the trigger’s pulled in a war, but surprise: it’s the check engine light.  (Can someone identify the company — I can’t remember)
2. I blame Carl’s Jr. for the trend of really disgusting eating habits in commercials, as though it’s a skill to celebrate.  But I think plenty of other burger and food factories have followed Carl’s lead.
3. The Toilet Paper Bears (hat tip to Loree Hyde)
4. the stretcher moving on its own, following people around (another one in which I can’t remember the product — only the gruesome imagery)
5. If I have to explain why this creeps me out, well then, go ahead and accept those eggs.  That’s why they’re the only eggs I make for my son.