| Biographical Non-Fiction posted May 6, 2021 |
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Per System Decree: not my legal address
Social Security Says: SQUATTER!
by Elizabeth Emerald
For the past sixteen years, I've been filing my annual "Social Security Statement of Earnings" in one of sundry super-safe places, to ensure that they don't get tossed in the recycle bin.
I may as well have chucked each forthwith; can't find a single one of 'em. (Any would have sufficed; I've earned only double-digits since my involuntary early-early retirement in 2004.)
I went on line to view my statement (via ssa.gov) and proceeded to create the requisite account, which entailed entering the usual identifying data.
"Invalid Information."
I assumed the glitch was due to my leaving the middle initial blank. I do not use my erstwhile middle name, and my card (found whilst searching vainly for the earnings statement) does not include it.
I typed in "A": nope.
Next, "Anne": three strikes, I'm out.
I called the contact number and was pleased to be connected, inside of fifteen minutes, to a lady named neither Siri nor Alexa.
She (I'll call her "Iris," for Siri's flip-side) asked for the same data the screen asked for, to which I gave the same answers.
Iris informed me that the address I provided was incorrect. I informed Iris that I've been living at this address since the last millennium. (Rerererepeat.)
In chess, this fruitless to-and-fro, a "stalemate," would be declared a draw; neither side scores a win and the play begins anew.
Such a civilized convention is moot when one's opponent is a bureaucracy; the lowly citizen can never win.
I hereby concede the match.
I'm off to waste another hour searching out the statement.
I may as well have chucked each forthwith; can't find a single one of 'em. (Any would have sufficed; I've earned only double-digits since my involuntary early-early retirement in 2004.)
I went on line to view my statement (via ssa.gov) and proceeded to create the requisite account, which entailed entering the usual identifying data.
"Invalid Information."
I assumed the glitch was due to my leaving the middle initial blank. I do not use my erstwhile middle name, and my card (found whilst searching vainly for the earnings statement) does not include it.
I typed in "A": nope.
Next, "Anne": three strikes, I'm out.
I called the contact number and was pleased to be connected, inside of fifteen minutes, to a lady named neither Siri nor Alexa.
She (I'll call her "Iris," for Siri's flip-side) asked for the same data the screen asked for, to which I gave the same answers.
Iris informed me that the address I provided was incorrect. I informed Iris that I've been living at this address since the last millennium. (Rerererepeat.)
In chess, this fruitless to-and-fro, a "stalemate," would be declared a draw; neither side scores a win and the play begins anew.
Such a civilized convention is moot when one's opponent is a bureaucracy; the lowly citizen can never win.
I hereby concede the match.
I'm off to waste another hour searching out the statement.
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