Johnny Carson, doing his Carnac the Magnificent character on “The Tonight Show” many years ago, memorably gave the clairvoyant answer, “Catch-22.” He then opened the sealed envelope and read aloud the question within: “What would the Dodgers do if hit 100 pop flies?”
The joke, hilarious then, would land flat this season with The Boys In Blue having just become only the eighth team in major league history to win 100 games in three consecutive seasons. Moreover, excising the 2020 season that was shortened by COVID-19, the Dodgers have now reached triple-digit wins in their last four full seasons.
Anyway, I found myself in a funny (in hindsight) Catch-22 situation the other day that eventually turned me Dodger Blue in the face. It was regarding a certificate of deposit that had just matured. Despite being with an online bank, to keep the CD from automatically rolling over I was required to make my withdrawal by phone.
After an eternity in the call queue listening to the musical equivalent of Ambien, a representative finally asked for my full name and account number, then had a few more questions.
“Mr. Woodburn, for security purposes, what’s your date of birth? The last four digits of your social security number? Mother’s maiden name?
He was just beginning.
“Mr. Woodburn, what’s your mother’s mother’s sister-in-law’s mother’s maiden name?”
Me: “Ummm…”
Rep: “Lets try a different question, Mr. Woodbum. Who was the first concert you attended?”
Me: “Yes, The Who.”
Rep: “Very clever, Mr. Woodbury. What was the model of your first car and which of the nine photo squares is it touching?”
Me: “I’m talking to you on the phone, not looking at a computer screen.”
Rep: “Well then, tell me: Are you a robot, Mr. Woodstone?”
Me: “No.”
Rep: “A nonstop train leaves Chicago for Philadelphia traveling 60 mph. Another train leaves Philadelphia heading to Chicago at 40 mph. In what city will they pass each other?
Me: “I have no idea.”
Rep: “Perfect, Mr. Woodberry. If you’d gotten that right I’d know you were an AI bot.”
(The remainder of the transcript is cross-my-heart true)
Me: “Can I please cash out my CD?”
Rep: “Not yet, Mr. Woodburn. One final question. I need to send you a text with a security code – is blah-blah-blah your phone number?”
Me: “No, that’s a landline we no longer have. My cell number is blah-blah-blah.”
Rep: “That’s not the number we have listed.”
Me: “I understand that, so please change it to…”
Rep: “As I said, Mr. Woodsworth, I can’t do that without texting you the security code.”
Me: “But you can’t text it to a landline. Use this number I’m calling your from.”
Rep: “Mr. Woodshed, I can only send a text to the number we have on file.”
Me: “How about you email the code to me.”
Rep: “I’m not authorized to do that.”
Me (frustration rising like a home run off Mookie Betts’ bat): “Will you please transfer me to your supervisor?”
Rep: “It’s been a pleasure to help you today, Mr. Woodpile. I’ll transfer you right now…”
The line went dead.
A second phone call was placed, summer turned to autumn while I was on hold, and when my at-bat finally came I swung for the fences: “I’d like to update my phone number.”
Rep: “No problem, Mr. Woodburn.”
Me (happy dancing while the change is successfully made): “Since I have you here, I’d like to cash out my CD.”
Rep: “Of course, Mr. Woodchuck. For security reasons, if two nonstop trains leave Los Angeles and New York…”
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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn
Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
