Ponder Post: It Was Not My Fault!

A couple weeks ago I received two credit cards for Frank and me to replace those that were at risk of being compromised due to a security leak at Home Depot. I had not asked for these cards. I had not requested an account number change that I now have to promulgate to any vendor, website, and automated billing for which I had used this card.

To add insult to injury, one card came bent so I had to request a new one. The accompanying letter said "If you have any questions, please call us at the phone number on the back of our card." Well there were no answers at that number, only many, many questions. The automated phone tree had enough branches to be a 100 year old heritage oak!

Imagine a phone tree with this many branches.

I never did speak to anyone but was able to work my way through the maze to press the correct digits to set in motion some automated process that I hope will send me a new card. It kind of bugged me. Someone, somewhere, might think I was careless and wrecked or lost my card when in truth it came that way and it was not my fault. I never got to explain that to anyone. Never. It should not bug me, but it does. I do not understand why, but it bugs me. 

It was not my fault! Truly!

Maybe nobody cares, but I do.

UPDATE:

I'd written the previous portion of this post about two weeks ago when I received the bent card. Writing it helped me vent. But it sat in my list of drafts and I never published it because no one wants to read complaints and negativity. My replacement card had still not arrived. I physically went to the bank to find out the status and learned that it had shipped but was delayed a bit due to the Columbus Day holiday. It will probably arrive today or tomorrow. I got to tell my "Private Client Banker" that it was not my fault. It is silly I know but...

There, I feel much better!

Ponder Post: O-W-L

This morning when I awoke and opened my eyes, I blearily saw one of Frank's shirts draped over his clothes horse at the side of the bed.  I read the letters OWL and puzzled,  "What shirt does Frank have with an owl on it?".

Does Frank even own a shirt with an owl on it?

Then I realized that the way the shirt was folded, I was only seeing part of the word. This was Frank's football shirt and I was focusing on the tail end of the phrase Super Bowl. That got me thinking. What other word could it have been? There is fowl and jowl and howl and yowl and even cowl. But they all rhyme? Why is bowl pronounced differently?

Fowl ... Jowl ... Howl or Yowl ... even Cowl

Then I understood. No one could get so excited over a game called the Super Bowel, no matter how you spelled it!