1. A credit union trade official wrote to comment on my recent spate of blog posts regarding news reports about the brutally different results for robbers who pick on credit unions versus robbers who pick on banks. The latter are apt to be apprehended with their persons intact, while the former are apt to meet their maker, then meet his evil twin "Skippy" (aka "The Dark Price"). My correspondent intimated that I might be leaning toward the bankers on this matter, due to some sort of suppressed pacifist tendency that, if not nipped in the bud, might flower into a marijuana brownie-munching, Birkenstock-wearing meltdown. He thought I might soon be shouting "When guns are outlawed, only credit unions will have guns!"
Rest assured: I will never wear Birkenstocks.
2. Last night's ramble regarding IndyMac officers who did not "beat the rap" prompted one financial institution attorney to wonder when the defendants would demand indemnification from New York Senator Charles "Chuckles" Schumer, and then answer his own question with "Oh wait, I forgot he doesn't have to answer for his actions . . ." A man after my own heart.
Long-time readers may recall my many potshots at that cretin esteemed member of the US Senate when his election year electioneering precipitated the run on IndyMac that forced the OTS to close it. Not that the OTS would not have had to close the steaming heap of goat custards that comprised IndyMac eventually, but that agency and the FDIC might have made a more orderly transition to oblivion than the lines-around-the-block debacle that Schumer's "leakage" precipitated. I reminded my correspondent that my original lambasting of Chuckie Cheese earned me a-whole-lotta-hate from leftards and moonbats, including one prominent, New Yawk City-based, bank-hating blogger who just about had to invent an entirely new language in order to articulate epithets vile enough to accurately describe my bovine nature. Man, that was a sweet memory!
3. Finally, to the reporter who wrote to complain that she "didn't like me" because, in an off-the-cuff comment in a throwaway line in a blog post of over six months ago that was read by maybe three people (two of whom are related to me), I "twisted her words": please accept my most Grand Canyon-esque yawn of abject inertia. I deny that I twisted anything, least of all your words, but now that I know that I bug you without consciously attempting to do so, I'll be sure to not only twist your words, but your tail, whenever the opportunity presents itself. This is what happens to "one" when "one" takes "oneself" seriously, quite often by referring to "oneself" in the third person.
Keep those cards and letters coming kids. I don't have time to respond to them all, but I enjoy even the barking mad ones.