Today is Bank Transfer Day, a day when millions of folks promised to transfer their accounts from big commercial banks to smaller banks or credit unions. I’m not participating in this… and here’s why:
My birthday is in March. The August after I turned 21, my best friend Rich and I went to my parent’s beach condo in Florida for a short vacation. Shortly after arrival, we went to the grocery store to stock up on grub for the week, and there I got a 6-pack of Bass Ale. The beer had a flyer attached offering six pint glasses and a glass pitcher with cool retro Bass logos for $19.99 plus shipping. Since I was still in my “I’M 21! I CAN DRINK, THEREFORE I AM A BADASS!!!” phase, I decided to get the set. So as soon as I got back to Atlanta I sent them a check and promptly forgot about it.
Fast forward from that August to the following May. I was at work one Tuesday, and my mom called me in a panic. “Wachovia called! They said you bounced a check! What’s going on with your finances, son? Should we bring your dad in on this?”
STRIKE ONE: Although I lived at home, I was now 22 years-old, fully an adult, and neither of my parents were “co-signers” (or anything else) on my account. But some Wachovia drone felt it was perfectly OK to talk to my mom about my private financial matters.
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Hey, ya’ll! Simon here! I went 9-4 last week, for a total of 25-14 on the season. Who knew the Rams would beat the Saints? I’m glad to have missed one of those games though: I picked New England over Pittsburgh, and when the boys from Steel City won my daddy jumped up and down and hollered like a mad man! It made me happy to see him happy! Let’s see what we have this week! 
