Here’s an update on my Social Security mini-drama. On Monday I decided to bypass the national phone number and call the nearest local office, which happens to be in Berkeley.
(You can reach your closest SS office by dialing 1-877-531-4696.)
There, a nice lady named Laurie said she could see no reason why my payment had been suspended and she would fix it right away. I thanked her but got her direct extension in case I need to call back. (Always a critical thing to do in these matters.)
Twelve hours later, the SSA website stopped listing my account as suspended. That was due to a lag in how the agency updates its website.
The key to whether this matter is actually resolved comes on Wednesday, when the check should show up in my checking account. (Always keep an eye on your bank balances online.)
Meanwhile, you might wonder why I bother writing about this kind of thing, when there are so many more urgent news issues to consider.
My reason is simple. This whole experience angers me and as far as I’m concerned never should have happened.
But let’s consider the circumstances. I’m in complete possession of my faculties, or at least as much as I’ve ever been. Plus I’m a journalist, quite used to dealing with the inefficiencies of government agencies. Plus, I’m probably more comfortable with talking to strangers than the average person. Plus I don’t easily take no as an answer. I’m stubborn and persistent, and usually polite.
Also I speak English.
But what about somebody else? Somebody who is older, sicker, less alert mentally, perhaps alone and without anyone to turn to for help in a situation like this?
I know that even in my case, a few years ago when I was very ill, no one ever got to opening my mail for many weeks at a time. Six weeks could have gone by before the type of notice I received on Saturday became known to me or my family.
That’s a long time and there are millions of people much more vulnerable than I am out there who are dependent on that monthly Social Security check to get by. They could face eviction, the inability to get food, keep the lights on, or buy gas for their car in an instant.
It’s on behalf of them that I am writing about this incident. They need to know what to do should this happen to them.
And this is an example of what journalists call a service piece, as well as a personal essay. It’s one of the things we routinely do, and why we do them. Please keep this column or forward to anyone who might benefit.
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LYRICS (Barefoot):
“Love, Love, Love”
Song by Of Monsters and Men
Well, maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away
Yeah, maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it
Yeah, maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person
Well, baby I know
And these fingertips
Will never run through your skin
And those bright blue eyes
Can only meet mine across a room
Filled with people that are less important than you
Oh, 'cause you love, love, love
When you know I can't love
You love, love, love
When you know I can't love
You love, love, love
When you know I can't love you
So I think it's best
We both forget
Before we dwell on it
The way you held me so tight
All through the night
'Til it was near morning
'Cause you love, love, love
When you know I can't love
You love, love, love
When you know I can't love
You love, love, love
When you know I can't love you
Songwriter: Nanna Bryndis Hilmarsdottir
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