I can’t say I was ever a great letter-writer.  Or even an inveterate telephone-caller.  And definitely not a telegram-sender.  But I did know how to do all of those things and was probably about a five on a scale of one-to-ten, communication-wise.  So you’d think that being able to use a single device and be in touch with people around the world almost instantly would be a no brainer,  You’d think.

But, now that I have untethered myself from my landline,  I’m finding that the learning curve for keeping in touch and up to date has steepened.  Just this morning, for instance, I finally figured out how to access the voice mails on my cell phone.  In fact, it was just a day or so ago that I even noticed there was such a possibility,  And here people have been leaving me messages right and left!

If you are one of those, I’m so sorry.  Except if you are one of those who doesn’t have a name attached to your phone number and who doesn’t identify yourself in a voice mail.  Then I’m purely flummoxed.

I discovered one such message from a pleasant sounding woman who tried to contact me on August 20th.  Her voice didn’t sound familiar and the phone number… well, I don’t do numbers very well.  It took me a looong time just to learn my own cell number…  I certainly haven’t memorized anyone else’s. Had I been more savvy by then, I guess I could have called and said, “Who are you?” though it seems rude, or awkward at the very least.

Anyway, too late now.  I blipped out all those old messages and will try to do better in the future voice-mail-wise.  But… I can’t help wondering what else I’m missing.  Though truth be told, the jury is out as to whether I even want to know.

Today my mail brought a promotion from the Bank of Pacific — “Time to choose Your Favorite!” it said, the choices being “a $5.00 downloadable treat” from Barnes & Noble or Amazon.com or Google Play.  Really?  A whole five dollars for “using your Bank of the Pacific Debit Card?”  And there were instructions about how to enter my reward code yada yada yada.

So I called the number and asked a simple question of the gentleman who answered the phone: “Why?”  He had no idea.  But he was prepared to help me get my reward, you betcha.  “No thank you,” said I.  So I called the BoP’s Customer Service and repeated my question.  The answer involved something about my usage (presumably high) of my debit card.

“If anything, I’ve used it less than usual,” I pointed out.  “Well, let’s see… What is your date of birth?” And after a bit she came back and  said, “Well, I really don’t see that your usage is…”  I explained that my “Why” question was really “Why is the bank doing this?”  And I went on to ask, “Isn’t the purpose of the bank to keep my assets secure?  And are the funds you are using to purchase and give away these gift cards actually the money the bank generates from your depositors?  Like me?”

“Well… ” she began… And I cut her a little slack.  “I know that you don’t make these decisions and I really don’t want to talk to the people who do.  Not unless they would consider giving incentives in another way — like increasing the interest rate on my savings account.  I really don’t need them directing my “buying habits.”

The call ended on a fairly positive note.  I think.  The nice young woman gave me a chance to vent and maybe — just maybe– she’ll mention my call to someone who will listen.  I told her my name twice, just in case anyone wanted to set me straight.  (Or increase my interest payments.)

The whole thing is right up there with my mystification years ago that the BoP took their staff on an overnight Christmas shopping spree to Portland.  Right in the dead of winter.  When all of us merchants were struggling to get folks to “BuyLocal.”

Go figure.  I’m not using my gift certificates, thank you.  It just doesn’t sit right, somehow.  And, come to think of it, none of those gift cards are “BuyLocal” either.

Mayim Bialik, Jeopardy Host Wannabe

I’m sorta sick of all the hype about Jeopardy — who will be the permanent host, how the fans feel, what the producers think, what the sponsors say and on and on, ad nauseum.  I used to enjoy watching the show — before it became more about Alex Trebek and less about a fun game of trivia facts.  With Trebek’s death, the show’s promoters have taken the hosting question far more seriously than the game, itself.  Or so it seems to me.

In fact, I wish we could get an inside look at who the writers are these days.  Surely it’s a different team that’s coming up with the categories and the questions which range from the ridiculous to the impossible.  There’s not much middle ground.  And what about the judges?  They let questionable or even wrong answers slide but get picky over pronunciation.  Inconsistency is the by-word.

If the controversy and the hype and the constant yammering about what the fans want continues for much longer, I think I’ll opt out altogether.  “Too much already,” say I.  In fact, the other night I watched bland old Wheel of Fortune and you know what?  It was sorta restful and way more fun than Jeopardy has been lately.  Pat and Vanna were predictable.  The contestants were interested in playing the game.  The game, itself, was just the right mix of fun and challenge.

Ken Jennings, Trebek’s Choice for Host?

So… maybe Jeopardy has run its course.  Maybe the producers got too hungry.  Maybe they forgot that games are for playing and for having fun…  This particular fan doesn’t really care if it’s Ken or Mayim or Donald Duck.  Let’s just get on with it before it’s not worth the effort.  If any of you readers are Jeopardy fans, I’d like to hear your take on the current situation.  Maybe I’m expecting too much.  Or maybe not enough…