Dear Bank of America, do you care about your money and my identity?
Dear Bank of America,
I’ve spent about a half hour that I don’t really have this morning sorting out why I received 4 request for unlock codes in my email. I don’t even have an account with you anymore, and I’d like to know why someone can seemingly attempt to “log in” as me when I thought I deactivated everything.
As a concerned citizen, I’ve attempted to get through on three of your phone numbers. None of your phone numbers are the equivalent of an action line for people like me who need to report a possible emergency.
I understand you are probably understaffed, but I have this feeling that if I tag this blog post correctly, you’ll probably respond quickly and appropriately… or maybe not, we shall see.
Leave a comment here, and it will be forwarded to me.
- Jeremy
EDIT: After poking around on their website, I found their solution for fraudulent emails. Send all fraudulent and fishing emails to abuse@bankofamerica.com.
Jeremy joins the cloud
I love technology. For all of this love, I rarely embrace nerdtastic things that cross my blog reader. Most of the amazing, technological breakthroughs happened long before my trip down the birth canal.
And, I’m usually the last to jump on any band wagon. When I hear the term Matrix Cloud I chuckle to myself and think of Larry Ellison’s most wonderful rant.
But today I join the cloud in what I consider the first real way. The coolness of this cloud is both conceptual and kinetically different than just client-server technology. The secret sauce of the cloud is accessibility, in a way that occurs as extremely low pain to the senses of those doing the accessing.
Today I joined delicious.com, and you can find me at http://delicious.com/jeremyosborne. All my bookmarks are private, but I’ll make them public soon once I get used to managing things.
Dear public diary
It’s interesting keeping a public diary, which is how I view my personal web log. December is always a year of reflection, and this month of this 2009th CE year is no different.
I don’t really have anything to talk about anymore. Over the last year I thought I might come up with one last thing, something that was actually worth a million dollars, something that garnered a million views, something that was really important.
Nothing important really comes out of my mouth. Ever. Don’t feel bad, dear reader, to learn this is one of the best bits of education I’ve ever received. Those who like to dwell on the various philosophies of life know the outcome of such a self-realization: if I have nothing to say at all, absolutely nothing if import, and I realize this, then I am free to say anything.
What will happen now? Probably more of the same, unless of course, it’s not.