I Break with Thee


It shouldn’t be this hard to give someone money.

My mother’s checking account is filled with thousands of dollars of fraudulent charges. Scum and villainy preying on the elderly…Tech Service contracts for a woman who doesn’t have internet, Repair My Credit scams, Medical Insurance consultancy fees. I’m sure all were agreed to without her even realizing what she was doing. Heck, if you’re a kind voice on the other end of the line she’ll give you her SS# and the keys to the house.

So, I opened up a new checking account in her name and began contacting the legitimate businesses that direct bill to give them the new account information. This should be easy. I set aside an hour at lunch. Three days later I have only successfully switched ONE account. One.

Let’s start with her mobile phone service…I’ll call them Revizon.

My mom has an ancient flip phone. ANCIENT. She doesn’t want a smart phone. She wants to play Snake(?). She wants familiar, the feel of a button being pressed, the satisfying flip to answer a call. She does not text, nor is her phone set up to send or receive texts. This is important when trying to do anything in 2018. It is this simple fact that has resulted in me spending one hour and 12 minutes on the phone with Customer Service and then Financial Services, 56 minutes in a Revizon store while the adorably befuddled sales guy sat on hold with Financial Services, and an additional 26 minutes with me on the line with them. You better believe I timed this.

The end result is there is no end result. This is still not resolved. I am powerless because the only way to instigate this change is online. I should say online using the code that they will text to my mother’s phone. Which doesn’t receive text messages.

Oh, there’s more…

It’s Time


A few years ago I restarted an old, dusty blog when the situation surrounding taking an Alaskan cruise with my mother became so surreal I had to write about it. “Travels With Jim” was reborn. It helped me see the humor through the stress.  I still reread it just for giggles. Usually when I’ve had too much champagne (kind of like right now).

Well, I’m facing a similar situation, also having to do with my mother. So to save my liver, I’m trying to manage the stress by writing about the trials and tribulations of a mid-50s gay son as he tries to figure out how to make sure his slightly demented (dementia-ed?), alcoholic, chain smoking, immobile, Republican, (suddenly) Catholic (again), bitter, angry, foul-tempered, opinionated mother doesn’t

  1. Burn the place down
  2. Get a DUI on her “mobility assistance device”
  3. Piss off EVERYONE who has tried to help her, or
  4. Die alone

It ain’t fuckin’ easy.

So it’s time to dust off this old blog. Let the healing begin.