Slaphappy

I may be pretty good with words, but there’s no way I can describe — much less overstate — just how little I care about what everyone’s talking about today.

If you came to Ubi Libertas Blog looking for witty criticism of the parties involved, a humorous take on the incident or even utility-grade snark, you won’t find it. Not here.

I don’t care.

The only thing worth noting, as far as I’m concerned, is how much oxygen and bandwidth are being consumed in paying attention to something so insignificant. Notice that folks who daily affirm that “those people” are irrelevant are spending a whole lot of time and energy today raising their profile.

That, dear readers, is embarrassing. And that’s all I have to say about it.


Not all of the retirement-related mail I get is junk. Among the unforwarded stuff we sorted through last week was a piece of government correspondence reporting that I may have left a few shekels behind at a private-sector job over two decades ago.

I’m not sure exactly how that works. I suppose the feds require employers to disclose such things.

The dollar amount on the form I received, reported in 2001, wasn’t huge by any means, but it was consequential enough to make me pick up the phone this morning and call my former employer. It’s a big company — fourth-largest in the US, actually — and thanks to mergers and acquisitions I truly didn’t know where to start. A search of the Web turned up a half-dozen phone numbers. I chose one and dialed.

Considering how much time had passed, and the fact that I’d lived at five addresses (in two different states) since leaving the company, I didn’t expect to get far today. I was surprised, then, that the first representative transferred my call to a person who knew exactly what I wanted to do and handled it smoothly.

It helped that I’d worked in the company’s retirement-services division and (like riding a bicycle) I still could speak the language. I was armed with information I knew the representative would ask for, including something as basic as the ZIP code where I lived when my employer and I parted ways.

By the time I got off the phone the representative had located my account, updated my contact information and confirmed that I am, indeed, eligible for a benefit. I know it won’t be a windfall, but it’ll be a day or two before I find out just how much it’ll amount to.

We’re building a house on The Mountain. Every little bit helps.

Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.

#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath

#LetsGoBrandon