Tales From Out In The 1960s Be-Bop Night

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

From Hell To Eternity-With The Film Adaptation Of James Jones’ From Here To Eternity In Mind

By Zack James

“You know I never got too deeply involved in the nuts and bolts of Army life when I was drafted into that branch of the service in 1969 during the heart of the Vietnam War but I do know that down at the base of the Army, down at the platoon, company, brigade level that the “top kick,” the First Sergeant was the guy who made everything work. Forget the supply sergeants who just stole whatever was not nailed down and sold what they could to whoever would buy it. How do you think all those Army-Navy stores that we bought our de riguer World War II surplus Army jackets, knapsacks and boots got their inventory? Forget that foolishness too about how an “army travels on it stomach,” the mess sergeants put out swill, keeping the good stuff for themselves and the officers, always the officers getting their kick-backs, and there is special place in hell for every freaking “mess” the way they have ruined generations of young men’s appetites. It was the “top kick” and no other who kept things going. That part of the film was straight up as far as I could tell,” long-windedly as was his wont when he got “tagged” on a common subject answered Sam Lowell to the question that Laura Perkins his long-time companion had asked about the movie that they had just watched.

The movie; the classic black and white film adaptation of James Jones’ just prior to American involvement via the dastardly deeds at Pearl Harbor World War II book, From Here To Eternity. Laura had at fist nixed the idea of seeing this film (brought to them via the beauties of Netflix mail delivery-not streaming) because the way the film had been described in the blurb it was a “war” film something she shied away from. Sam told her that while it was a war film in the generic sense it was much deeper than that, not some The Longest Day or Saving Private Ryan “blood and guts” and so he had persuaded her to watch it with him one Saturday night after she had come home from a short but necessary stay in the hospital and they had decided to just take it easy that night. She had liked the film so much that she had immediately afterward asked the question about how true to life it had been and had not been peeved as she had occasion to be many times when he did his long-winded wont.

Knowing only a little of Sam’s checkered military career, knowing basically that he had been in the military during the Vietnam War period like her younger brother and a lot of other guys from Riverdale where she and Sam had grown up during that turbulent time Laura had asked the question after observing that “Top,” Sergeant Warden played by hulky Burt Lancaster (“hulky” Laura’s term) seemed to have been running the show quite nicely and efficiently while the philandering Captain went off base to some rendezvous with some dishy dame (Sam’s term). That seemed counter-intuitive to her since she had thought that officers, the higher up the better, ran the show.

You know Sam’s answer and for a guy who was seven kinds of hell to the Army in his time he had the “Army way” down pat. That was what amazed Sam about seeing the film again after maybe forty years. How despite the difference in time periods (pre-World War II and Vietnam, hell, from stories that he had heard from younger “vets” from Afghanistan and Iraq in his work for Veterans for Peace later too), the pre-war voluntary army versus a basically conscripted army, and advances in the killing machine methods the same “chicken-shit” stuff had happened back then. The same freaking stupid stuff down at the base of the Army where it lived.

“Sure I knew guys like Prewett, the main antagonist played by Montgomery Clift who was given the “treatment” because he did not want to box for the company, a company whose only existence seemed to be so they could win the regimental boxing tournament for the Captain who figured to ride that to a Major’s rank, The tourney set for, get this, December 15, 1941, you knew once you saw that date no damn tournament was going to happen. Yeah there was no damn place for an odd-ball like Prewett despite the fact that he loved the Army. Not many guys during my short time were thinking about making it a career, about being “lifers” but Prewett out of the sticks down in Kentucky where he probably didn’t even have shoes, didn’t get three “squares” a day [three meals a day, okay] had it all mapped out. Figured on thirty years and an easy grift. But he was only fooling himself, because even “from hunger” guys who don’t toe the line don’t have long careers in that man’s Army-where do you think the whole idea of “go along, to get along” came from. Sure the Army, the politicians just picked it up later.”

“Guys like Maggio too?,” echoed Laura [Played by Frank Sinatra in a great and underrated performance which should be mentioned since we are now in the centennial of his birth.]

Sam chuckled, “Especially guys like Maggio, guys who half the time like my brother had the “choice.” “The “choice”? queried Laura. “Yeah, guys, guys for the neighborhoods, working-class ethnic guys, Italians, Irish, maybe Eastern European, would get the choice. Not blacks, not many anyway who were in segregated units at the time period of the film, although not in my time hell blacks and Latinos were over-represented since the kids from the good schools and neighborhoods took a pass on induction. You noticed you didn’t see any black faces in high or low places in the film. Usually a guy like Maggio, my brother, got into some trouble short of murder, one. My brother’s was for armed robbery of a gas station for about fifty stinking bucks. He was seventeen and so the judge, like a million judges handed the “choice” out. In my brother’s case it was either three to five hard at Norfolk, you know about Norfolk, right? [Laura nods silently.] Or join the Army, no that was not the way it was put my brother told me, you would sign up for military service and you could s choose the branch.”

“Needless to say that didn’t happen as much during the later stages of the Vietnam War when going to that country was like a death warrant but it happened. Still does even with a volunteer Army,” Sam continued. He could see though that Laura’s eyes were glassing over so he moved on to some of the other aspects of the film that seemed true.

“You know every guy was forever thinking about weekend passes, passes to get away from the bases. Passes to go into some Army town like in the film, or like Anniston down in Alabama where I took Advanced Infantry Training (AIT) which would have put me in a unit just like Prewett’s and Maggio’s except in 1968, 1969 nobody, no grunt, no canon-fodder, was being sent to Hawaii as a final destination. The only place, or practically the only place where 11 Bravos, infantry, were wanted and needed was hell-hole Vietnam. Period.,” Sam prattled on nervously.

“You didn’t go to Vietnam, did you? You never told me much about your military stuff, said it was in the past. Said the Veterans for Peace stuff was what was important when we reconnected after all those years at our fortieth class reunion back in 2006. I heard something about you back then, back in about 1971 I think, about you being arrested in some protest but I thought that was after you got out of the service. My brother said something about it, and not in a nice way either. You know how gung-ho he was.”

Sam red-faced as he answered said “he would talk about it later.” “Yeah, going to town even in the hell-hole Deep South was something to look forward to, to see girls, even if they were tramps and ‘skags’ Go get drunk and drown in the sorrows of the hard fact that they were being trained to be nothing but killers.” [Laura laughed remembering that old time term for the less attractive girls in the class back in the 1960s.]

Then Sam turned sullen as he thought about the question that was really being posed that night, posed beyond the film and the true aspects of the film from the parade marching and drilling, the chow lines, the rinky-dinky stuff, and the overlay of romance-Army style-foremost between “Top” and the Captain’s wife, played by Deborah Kerr and in the background between Prewett and Lorene, played by Donna Reed who would in turn in the 1960s become a very loud Hollywood opponent of the Vietnam madness. He chuckled silently no way the Army, peacetime or wartime, was built for romance. Those love affairs were doomed just as his marriage to his first wife was doomed when they hastily decided to do get married during the heat of the Vietnam War. Mistake.

That was not what was agitating him just then but that scene of Maggio escaping from the stockade all battered and half-dead (a few moments later he would be dead but “free,” free from the brutal stockade). This night under the spell of this film he would finally tell Laura about the end of his Army career and be done with it.

“I freaked out a little at that scene of Maggio all battered and bloody after he escaped from the stockade. I “served” two terms in the Army stockade up at Fort Devens, you know up in Ayer mostly gone now as far as I know so I know that it was no easy trip. I never ran into anybody as brutal as Sergeant Judson (played by Ernest Borgnine) but it was no picnic even though I was being held in a separate area for “political prisoners” and other malcontents whom they didn’t want in the “general population” of the stockade.

Laura interrupted, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, let me tell the highlights now and some other time when I have thought about how much I more I want to tell you I will go into more detail. I am only going to tell you this much because of this damn film,” Sam told Laura with a certain dry-voiced low tune.

“I didn’t resist the draft, didn’t have my head on straight enough before I got inducted, got drafted, like your brother, like a million other guys who when called-went-like it, hate it, you went and you know that was true in Riverdale like in a million other towns. I had my anti-war views more lightly held then, not enough to be a conscientious objector, a Quaker or so I thought. About three days into basic I knew that I had made a mistake that my anti-war views were a lot stronger than I realized (mixed in with confusion, a desire not to die and a few other not always unconfused feelings). Needless to say as the die got cast with me as an 11 Bravo my reactions got more intense. But not enough until I got orders for Vietnam in the summer of 1970 to do anything about it.

“Then I got “religion,” decided to go see the Quakers in Cambridge that somebody told me about to see if they could help. In the meantime I got married to Josie and I don’t want to talk about that tonight, please, okay. I was supposed to report to Fort Lewis in Washington state for transport to Vietnam but I was “advised” that if I went absent without leave (AWOL, like Prewett) for a period that I would be “dropped from the rolls” out there and could turn myself in to Devens and up there place my conscientious objector application in. I did so. As basically a Catholic “just war” objector then the damn thing was turned down then and I was set for orders back to Vietnam again.

“In those days, 1969, 1970 the war had gone on so long that anti-war protestors were tired of the same old, same old demonstrations in Washington each spring and fall and were beginning to demonstrate at military bases. I joined in one of those in front of Devens one weekday-afternoon in my uniform. That was the first special court-martial- (and stockade time-six months the maximum for such a tribunal). At this time I had been given a civilian lawyer through the Quakers who was pursuing my CO case in the federal court in Boston in a habeas corpus action for illegal detention-basically that they should have approved my CO application which was kind of a complicated legal argument more suitably to be told later.

“I did the time without too much hassle, actually did a lot of reading and thinking so it wasn’t a total bust. Then I got released after my six months were up-no good time either since I refused to work and so on so I got the full kick. When I got out though I was right back in because I refused to wear the uniform. I am getting tired so let me finish up. I got another six month sentence most of which I served when the federal courts came through on that habeas action, I was discharged and told never to darken their, the Army’s, doors again. Get this-with an honorable discharge which was right since they should have discharged me prior to the stockade-that is what the court said. I’ll tell you more sometime but just remember that look on Maggio’s face when he broke out of the stockade. Free, free at last. That was me when I got out, okay.

Sunday, April 24, 2016

A Con Artist Conned-With Katrina, The Girl With The Sparkling Eyes, In Mind

By Zack James

Hey, Phil Markin, P.I. private eye to you here to give you the low-done, oops low-down, pardon me for being a little cynical but that must have been a Freudian slip as they say, on my lawyer friend , Tim Clary, (and a guy whom I have worked for on a contract basis for several years in the interest of full disclosure investigating people’s troubles for him in order to get a little rough justice in this wicked old world as he likes to put it on his more liberal and expansive days), who has as usual let himself get in way over his head with a dame, a young dame to boot, who has been leading him by the nose (or another more private part if you ask me) for a few months now.

Usually I like to make some commentary about the cases I am trying to tell you about, to set you straight about what real cases in the private detection business are about not that tripe, hell, that crap you get on television or the movies, get in lurid half-dressed babe covered crime novels. This time I will just let Tim bask in his glory, his maybe glory, since apparently this time, this “one last time” as the dame, Katrina, has said right along every time she put the bite on him he has finally got everything right-right for now anyway. This is the way he told me the story one night at Nick’s on Merrimack Street in Lowell where he has his one-man law office in the seen better days Orley Building when we were discussing the details of another case (a missing person’s case where the wife was looking for the left suddenly husband for alimony and child support whom I never found at least under that name and social security number. That is the way of such cases. Usually a client could save his or her money by filing a “missing person’s report” with the public cops and be done with it for all the good getting a private detective to do the work since people who seriously go missing, go for a reason, and go deep down in the crevices). If I have something to say, or the narrative needs a little explanation I will put what I have to say in brackets. Hey Tim, good luck brother-and forget about anymore “one last time” with this one, with this Katrina fox:

[If you can believe this, although maybe today with all the social media, social networking I think they call it, maybe it isn’t so unbelievable, Tim and this Katrina have never met in the flesh. Have not for reasons that shall not detain us here even talked on the cellphone. All of their communications has been through a few hundred more or less short and almost business e-mails. So what Tim was telling over drinks that night at Nick’s was about the details of an e-mail that he had sent her after she had sent him yet another “request” for dough, for money, this time to get out of a hospital, Saint Tomas’ in Manila, that’s in the Philippines. He had read the dispatch to her composed on his word processor on his computer that he had brought with him so he could do some work at home.]

Sweetie- some days it is great to be a lawyer, to actual help somebody, to help a damsel in distress, you okay, and today is one of them. Yeah, to actually help somebody without having to crush somebody else which is the usual case in our adversarial legal system where in court one side wins and the other side loses most of the time. Most days are like that, dog eat dog, not at all like they tried to play with your head with in law school about justice being blind and everybody is equal under the law.

And it is not just the court system that is screwed up but I remember back when I was doing more criminal cases starting out like a lot of young hungry lawyers looking to get a start in the business and some guy, usually they were guys, was in court on a drug charge, maybe trafficking, maybe possession of too much dope to not be prosecuted like for kilos or something who would get up on the stand and act all innocent (like I told him to do) and then the prosecutor starts talking about a couple of prior convictions for the same offenses that had been “continued without a finding” (meaning they would go away if the guy kept his nose, literally his nose in cocaine cases, clean for a period long enough to say he was rehabilitated). Of course he never told me that little piece of information when I had asked him about “priors” so naturally I looked like a fool when I went to the bench and asked for some kind of plea bargain rather than the “not guilty” I was looking for. Or the time a guy in all honesty (he was a little simple-minded but not as much as he pretended) thought he had some kind of constitutional right to have a pistol in his hand when he displayed it in a 7/11 store in Dracut and the clerk, scared out of her mind, though it was an armed robbery as she handed over the money. It was, the guy had about six “priors,” for various armed and unarmed robberies. Had a million cases like that.

Hell later the civil case clients would still goof with me sometimes like when I did a few divorce cases before I gave that up as too scary once I realized that I would rather defend the low-rent criminals who at least were half honest when they would lie, male or female it didn’t matter, about why they wanted a divorce. Worse when it came to dividing up the property. Christ they fought tooth and nail over a television set or some foolish piece of furniture. I won’t even go into the “civil wars” when there were lawsuits between two unrelated parties about ownership of land, or chattels. Worse when there were personal injury cases (although “win or lose” I made good money on those cases I will admit) and one party would almost ask the judge for the death penalty beside money damages in the case for some car dent or whiplash back deal. Jesus.

You will appreciate this one. I have to chuckle every time I think about Harry’s case, or rather cases. Harry was from up your way, up in Bedford if I recall, who had a small printing business in Lowell over on Merrimack Street by the river in the Taylor Building (now converted to condos at some outrageous price just because they had a river view but they were poorly constructed and I wouldn’t live in one if you paid me). He was always coming to me to “negotiate” with some customer who was not paying his or her bills. One time a big customer, an independent book publisher, got behind on his payments, had as it turned out made a bunch of bad decisions about what books would sell in the consumers’ market, and got so far behind in his bills that Harry took him to court, rightfully so. When Harry got up on the stand to say his piece he, on his own, started talking about putting the poor guy in now non-existent debtor’s prison like something out of Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations which you probably read in school. Like Harry had never heard of bankruptcy laws (that the guy finally had to go to which was sad in a way because he had in his younger days published some very good if not exactly best-seller books which is always worthwhile). When I asked you about your situation in the hospital and whether you could leave or were being held before you explained everything to my satisfaction I thought of you as a Harry’s case for real.

[I remember Harry, Harry Argos, a good guy but had been as an immigrant too trusting of what he had heard told to him in those classes he took to become a citizen and so thought justice was on the side of the little guy. Got all riled up when some “native” tried to pull the wool over his eyes and so wound up in Tim’s office half the time for no reason that any court of law could, or would, do anything about.]

You know even this big deal case from Washington I am working on now that I keep telling you I am busy on is a “one side wins, the other side loses” situation (except me because I am getting paid, paid a lot, or I should say I shall get paid a lot since I am working by the hour on the thing and so not dependent on winning like in some cases I have had, some cases when I put a lot of time in and got nothing for it when the client lost). It is about land, or really land use which people come to me about since I won a case a while back, a big case in Massachusetts, on appeal about who owned the land. Not a big case like the U.S. Supreme Court case in Miranda, the give you your rights case, or Lawrence, the gay civil rights case, but a big land use case that lawyers still refer to when they have what are called “adverse possession” cases. What that means in laymen’s terms is that one guy used land for a long time, over twenty years, thinking it was his but on the land deed it was really another guy’s. That other guy showed no proof of active ownership so the first guy got possession. What was important to the first guy, my guy, was that he have that land to sell because a huge condo developer wanted the land but only if he could have all of it undisputed. That is what the D.C. case is all about but the land use size is much bigger, the developer wants to put 160 condos/townhouses up but needs a disputed strip for a street between sections. Without that-no go.

But enough of these law court “war stories” let’s get to why you should be happy that I feel good to be a lawyer today. [I agree-why the hell is he telling some bimbo who could care less except maybe for the dollar signs lure that might be brought in about these old and new cases. Like she gave a fuck except for her own capers, her own screwball antics.] Last night I was talking to my accountant about your situation, about the blizzard of e-mails we had sent back and forth earlier in the day in order to made a plan to move forward and get you out of “jail,” about what had been happening to you over the past couple of weeks since you paid off that late insurance premium on your mother’s life insurance policy. See I need his authorization from the law office accounts, especially for a large sum like $2100. I have been keeping him “out of the loop” on those bank transfer things that didn’t work because they were being drawn off my credit cards which he doesn’t have control over (meaning he doesn’t have to authorize use although he does need the monthly statements for tax purposes, Christ, he always as you know wants some damn receipt for every little thing).

[Of course this whole “imaginary’ conversation with his accountant, with Sal Manning, who really has kept Tim out of more trouble with more authorities than you can shake a stick at, and that is exactly what it was, had been nothing but a lie. A lie for a lie. See Tim had finally figured out that Katrina, if that was even her real name, had been “scamming” him, had been leading him on a classic scam build-up which at this point involved the idea that Tim was supposed to send dough, a couple of thousand dollars, United States Dollars, to her bank in the Philippine, the Banco de Oro, BOD, to get her out of the hospital she had entered the night before she was supposed to go to an insurance company, Sun Life, and collect about fifty thousand dollars from a life insurance policy her recently deceased mother had left for her and her brother. Tim by the way had paid the “late” premium on that policy otherwise the policy would have lapsed. As I tell you these details you can see what our Katrina was all about and why I said that nasty remark about Tim being led by something more than his nose. The deal she was putting was down at that point was that she needed dough to pay the hospital bills, and her back rent. That hospital part was the key-supposedly she couldn’t leave the hospital until she paid her bill and so couldn’t get to the insurance company to pick up that sweet fifty thousand-in cash. She needed “babe,” her term of endearment for him, to “one last time” help her out. And Jesus he was still ready to.]

By the way when I told him [Sal Manning, the accountant] about the failed bank transfers from my bank, Bank of America (hereafter B of A), to your bank, Banco de Or, especially from Xoom which he uses all the time and likes and which you said you were not in favor of using he had the problem solved in a jiffy. That paperwork BOD (Banco de Oro) wanted you to sign was because you had a savings account and not a checking account. According to him there was no way Xoom or Bank of America (I mean B of A) could transfer money from my bank account to yours because you didn’t have a routing number. So what that local branch of BOD (Banco de Ora, okay) would have wanted from you if you could have contacted them was to sign off on paperwork to allow international bank transfers into your savings account. That was all.

[This, again for the gullible or easily misled, was all a lie as mentioned in the previous brackets. Never let it be said that once Tim got on his own high horse that he could lie with the best of them, tell a tale as good as he received. Hell he was born on the hard-edged working class section of Riverdale about twenty miles away from Lowell so he was no stranger to the “lie,” the non-professional lie once he saw the light. He did say that night at Nick’s that he had gotten “rusty,” had not seen the tell-tale signs of the scam. I already made my statement about why that was, what he was being led by.]

But that wasn’t the reason he, my accountant, called me, although while I had him the line I told him about your situation. You know about you being in the hospital for stomach ulcers since you had not been eating, or had been fasting for some reason, I don’t remember off-hand which it was, the former I think, but basically not taking care of yourself because you had no dough to live on until you cashed in on the $50,000 (sorry I don’t know how many pesos, Philippine pesos that was, about 2,000,000 if I remember the conversion rate correctly) insurance policy we had paid the premium on. That you had gone to the hospital, taken I think by your brother and two cousins, Rufus, no, Ricky, and Jonathan the night before you were supposed to get the big insurance pay-out you were entitled too. Damn getting sick just when you were going to get financially well. (Did you ever tell me your brother’s name I know he is a student and is about seventeen, right?). They had taken you to the same hospital, Saint Tomas, where your mother had been taken to before she passed away and which we had had to buy off for $800 USD (United States dollars, 35,000 pesos right) in medical bills before they would let you give her a proper burial.

My accountant asked about which wing of the hospital you were being held at, the low-rent charity ward or the “plush suites,” his terms since he knew the hospital from trips to Manila on business, and I told him because we had pieced off the place in your mother’s case with that 800 clams (35,000 peso clams) before they let you be treated with the Mayfair swells, you know the upper crust, in the nicer section (his saying “being held at” like you were a prisoner which is as you know I thought until just yesterday when you straightened me out and so I did the same for him about your wanting to do everything by the book, legally).

Like I said the real reason my accountant called was because he had received an e-mail by some parish priest from that Quinpo (sorry if I misspelt it) church your mother belonged to thanking me for sending the five years Mass Card who although not familiar with your mother’s name, didn’t know her from Adam or Eve from what my accountant said, was pleased that I had thought of her, one of God’s children, and that of course on her death anniversary day they would do their duty to her by saying a Mass in her name. (I gave February 27^th as her death date since that was the day you left I think and if that is not right then that will still count for her as her remembrance time anyway.) Of course you know I only did that out of respect for you (and indirectly your brother whose name I don’t know, is it Angel, maybe you did tell me). I have mentioned my feelings as an old-time sinner myself about the Church before and I don’t want to get started on that because that is not what this message to you is about. About great news not ancient Catholic childhood mental wounds that have never properly healed. But just be aware that as for your mother somebody is looking out for her when you are away elsewhere.

[Again why the big build up, why would she give a fuck about his traumatic rigid and distorting Catholic that she, we, had suffered through.]

Of course since I have known my accountant for a long time and except when he goes crazy over receipts and invoices he and I get along, and he has after all kept me out of trouble, out of serious trouble anyway, he felt free to make his usual “pussy-whipped” comment after I told him about your sad ass tale and your various post insurance premium- related capers. You remember I hope that e-mail I sent you one time about his comment about “thinking with cock, not my brain,” in dealing with you once he saw how pretty you were and how nice too. Here is a copy just in case you forgot what with your other worries and stuff:

“Hi Sweetie-hope things are going well with you-thanks for the revealing photos of you. They certainly had my woodie getting hard just thinking about those beautiful tits of yours (“Woodie” that’s your word for cock right-I remember you calling it that once time when we were talking before you left for the Philippines). Of course I would have to have a closer inspection, a much closer inspection in order to confirm how nice they are.

[Now you finally in detail get what I am talking about in this “relationship” between an older man and a younger woman-right. Forget all the “business’ stuff this is the hard-core truth coming out. The stuff that should half make you think Tim, however innocent, deserved all he got from this vixen. I told him so many times so I am not telling and tales out of school.]

Now that the business stuff is over let me tell you a story about why I was asking for revealing photos of you. During this last insurance premium go-round my accountant said I was thinking with “my cock and not my brain” in dealing with you what with all the zigzags we went through. He didn’t exactly put it that way but you know how guys talk about good-looking women and their desire for them what he meant was that I was pussy-whipped, “cyber-pussy-whipped” by you because every little request by you for anything and I was calling him up day and night to see if it could be done without getting into trouble. That got me to thinking back to the previous photos that you had sent me of you before you went away. I was thinking that if I was pussy-whipped (which you and I know I am not but rather just trying to help a damsel in distress and will in the future too if necessary and we will work out some kind of thing that will be okay for both of us so we are on the same page) then I might as well have a look at the pussy I am being whipped by. Sometime when you get a chance I would not mind a little photo like that. This would be just between us but I would be able to laugh every time he [Sam Manning] went on and on about stuff like that. You could do that for me sweetie I hope.

As usual when I have gone to Washington I always get behind and so I have been working today to get caught up on an interesting case I will tell you about sometime. I also jogged this morning before the rain started here. If you can believe this and this is no April Fools’ joke tomorrow and the day after (Sunday and Monday here) it is supposed to snow-not much but what the heck it is April. I am also finishing up an interesting novel by Ernest Hemingway-do you know who he is-or remember reading anything by him in high school-about Paris in the 1920s during the Jazz Age. I would like to go Paris this year in the fall so I am reading stuff like that to get motivated to go –Of course Paris is a place you don’t want to go alone if you know what I mean.

I often think about what you are reading about, what you are doing over there while you are waiting for your fortunes to change. Tell me some stuff like that, what kind of food do they have there, did you go any place of interest. You know stuff like that so we can “reconnect.”

I have learned the basics of sexting (oops) texting but it takes me a long time to put a message together. I haven’t got all the symbols and shorthand down. As you can tell it is much easier (and faster) for me to write a bunch of stuff in an e-mail-Let me hear from you and what you are up to and remember I will continue to be your amigo as things go forward-Later.”

Then I sent you another e-mail which went like this:

“Hi sweetie- thanks for note- I sent you a note about sending your photos to g-mail address but that can wait until you have a phone-Will you have a phone before you leave the Philippines or wait until you get back to America. I sure would like to have a voice to put with that lovely face. I hope you don't mind me being a little sexy with you- all I know is that “woodie” was pretty hard when I saw those photos-kind of got hard just like that but I am sure you know that would happen when I saw them and I hope you are glad about it-I don't think you do mind about the little sexy stuff but everything I say is just between us.

[Need I say more.]

As far as my accountant goes if he had seen those photos of you and the ones you sent before he would have the same reaction I did. Then who would be cyber-pussy-whipped. He's a good guy and like I said he has kept me out of trouble for a while and so that is good but he would never understand why I like a nice younger woman like you and have gone out of my way to help you even though we haven't met in person. But accountants are like that-never take a risk because it might throw their balance sheets off. You know the only sheets I am worrying about taking off-I hope.

It is funny when you say you would never let me down because all through this business stuff whatever was going on I think in the back of my mind I had a feeling you would not, you just seemed to be that way. Maybe it was our both growing up kind of poor, kind of from the wrong side of the tracks as they say that made me feel that way. We can take about that some other time but we should talk about it.

I didn't quite understand about the "constructing church" you were talking about-is that in Paris? I don't remember hearing about that or seeing it the times I have gone there. Have you ever been to Paris?

You know you might know that guy Hemingway although not his name did you ever read about a story called the Old Man and the Sea where this old-time Cuban fisherman is out by himself and sees a huge fish that will put him on easy street if he can catch it and bring it back to port and sell it. He catches the fish but along the way back to port about seven things happen and when he gets to port there is nothing to sell, the fish is nothing but bones. So much for easy street…”

You had such a great response-remember. If not here’s the way that went:

“Hello babe thank you so much again I’m glad you like my photos! I know Woodie will like it too xoxoxo! Don't mind your accountant once we meet in person we will both show him and laugh in him for calling you that way! I know you're not that kind of guy he's just bitter because you will be with a fine lady and he won't! I appreciated all your good deeds for me babe and I promise I will never let you down! Speaking of down I can show you my down stairs of course but right after I get a phone with camera xoxo! Lol really? No I don't know that person but I love to read what you been writing! We will both go to the place I wanted so much and see the still constructing church together!! I've been reading a lot of space lately just bunch of random facts about universe and galaxy! I have never been to any nice place here since I don’t have money yet I have been eating more of Philippine foods and I kind of like it its call tinolang manok and pork sisig! Lol I’m glad you learning how to text if you can you can shoot me one sometimes and I will reply back! I only have less than $10 to survive the week and I hope I can get the money by this coming week or next week once I do I will let you know and will keeping you update of my comeback! I miss talking stuff like this with you!”

Remember too how my accountant went crazy looking for that Sun Life insurance premium invoice or there was going to be hell for me to pay (and you bailed me out by sending the copy which was hard for you do to do when you were hospital and which I haven’t forgotten about, believe me I haven’t forgotten). Here’s a refresher:

“Desperate situation-HELP

Sweetie this is why the situation is desperate and I need your help. I, you maybe, we, are in trouble about that money I loaned you out of my pocket to pay your insurance premium of $1000 or whatever it was. I told my accountant who handles both the law office and my personal financial accounts about my sending you the WU money transfer and when I told him I had lent you from my pocket (what he called “behind his back”) he flipped out-again. Said didn’t I realize that lending the dough for the insurance premiums on top of paying the medical bills and funeral expenses made it look like I had an interest in the insurance money. Make it look like I was in with you on the insurance deal since I am the guy who sent the WU money transfers. In any case lawyers involved with client’s (that was the way the previous medical and funeral expenses went on the books in the law office ) is a big no-no-not legal, not ethical and he will be forced to report that to the Massachusetts Board Of Bar Overseers-the people who make sure lawyers don’t do stuff like that. Where you could be in trouble is that you knew I was a lawyer, knew the money for the medical expenses and funeral expenses and that first time I tried to send you the insurance money where I made a mistake on the name-remember was coming from a lawyer.

He is not going to lose HIS job or get in trouble with the CPA (Certified Public Accountants) guys who license him so I need to get that damn insurance receipt and fast to show that I just loaned you the money to help you out. Otherwise he will be forced to turn his information over to the Bar Overseers and who knows what will happen. They do not like and there are plenty of cases about it seeing lawyers even looking like they are benefitting from third-party (you) insurance claim. I need to keep my license clean in order to practice law (and help you in the future when you get back to America and your nursing career or whatever else you want to do.

So sweetie can you please, please, please find another computer place there must be more than one in Manila to scan that receipt and send it quickly-very quickly. You can do that sweetie right-I have stood by you and done the best I could by you but now, right now, I need you to help me out.

After that is done, after we can show that the insurance premium money was just a personal loan, then everything will look right and I can help you with the other stuff like the rent and all and it will just be personal and all right. You can do that for me sweetie-yes. After we get this behind us then I will help you to the best of my ability. And you know that’s true because I have a track record of helping you that you can depend on.

Right now though nothing else matters but that receipt so let’s get to that. My lawyer said I shouldn’t even be communicating with you except to ask for the receipt but I felt I had to tell what I was up against so you would know how serious the situation is. I will abide by what he says though-no communication- until I get that receipt- I will be glad when this is behind us-su amigo” [Jesus.]

Told him that was why you couldn’t draw the dough out since you had to go there in person. That because you were in gaol (jail) you needed my help for one last time to pay off your jailers (they really are when you think about it since you, trying to act legally, can’t leave except under severe penalty). Needed me to sent you $2100 USD (United States dollars, around 9000 or 10,000 pesos right?) via Moneygram in care of your cousin Rickey, no, Jonathan, Jonathan Mateo because Rickey had either lost his driver’s license or had failed to renew it (that’s right isn’t it, lost it for speeding or something-did he, Ricky, ever get it back).

That’s when my accountant “flipped” out but also when he came back to earth and “saved” us. He told me and I quote, “ What are you crazy, didn’t you know that Moneygram had been involved in settling a big fraud claims case a few months ago where they had let scammers use their site for illegal actions?” I said no, and that I wasn’t until recently in dealing with you up to speed on all this electronic money transfer stuff. He answered, “I wouldn’t use Moneygram in a million years.” Period.

When he settled down, after I asked him, pretty please, asked him how was I to help you if that avenue was closed off, he, once again, came up with the solution. Here is where it is good to know a few people in key places. See, as you might expect of a business accountant who works for lawyers, he deals with insurance companies all the time, so he knows, Sam Larkin, the Vice-President for International Affairs at Sun Life in America, which Sun Life in the Philippines is a subsidiary of. My accountant called Sam this morning and told him my/your/our story. No problem. Sam has ordered an agent in the Philippines, Tomas Ramos, to go to you at Saint Tomas Monday or any day you want if Monday is no good and on giving him your insurance policy and premium invoice do whatever you need done. If you want cash or a check, done. He will arrange it. Sam suggested a check because $50, 000 USD (United States dollars, or what did I say before a couple of million Philippines pesos) is a lot of money to be carrying around the Philippines these days and he is right I think from what you have said about not going out at night or just being around that dangerous drug-infested neighborhood you live in with the batos locos hanging out right on that street you live on doing their dirty deeds just like in Manchester [the town that when Tim and Katrina first “met” on a sex site Katrina claimed she lived in ] or Lowell. Damn. If you need a ride to your bank, done. Anything you need to get you right just tell me what day and what time you want Tomas Ramos to come and take care of business I will call Tomas direct and it is done.

[Remember please that all the above is all bullshit, all set up to eventually “catch” Katrina out, or if necessary bring some kindof legal action against her knowing Tim’s wont in such matters. More likely if Katrina ever comes back to America, and that is iffy, I will be “contracted” to find her and bring her to “justice.” The less said about that possibility right now in theory the better.]

So you can see why I like being a lawyer today. You win, I win, Angel (I think that is his name now that I think about it) wins, Jonathan and Ricky win. My accountant, a good guy right, wins. Great news-right.

[You now know why Tim is “on a mission,” or will be once I explain that Katrina told Tim that it was “impossible” for her to meet with Tomas Ramos, the representative from Sun Life in the Philippines that Sam Manning had arranged to meet Katrina in the hospital, no fuss, no muss because the hospital would not “let him in” where she was being held pending payment of her mounting hospital bills, brought on not by continuing care for whatever condition, unknown and never revealed to Tim, but in Catch-22 fashion be her inability to pay. That refusal, a “last straw” for Tim, since no hospital is going to refuse to let an agent in who is going to bring dough to pay them off if nothing else prompted another “lie” feast by him to finally “blow her off” pending whatever else legally or via my investigative prowess he might deem appropriate.]

Sweetie-I hate to write a note like this but I am really up against it, or could be. I hate to ask for money from anybody since I usually have my own resources but like I said in my last e-mail I am in immediate trouble. I particularly hate to ask girls for money but I figure that we are beyond that, you are my best friend of late and I hope I am yours so it is okay. I know you would never let me down if you could help it and you already know I have not let you down when the deal when down. Another reason I don’t like asking you for money is because I don’t want you to get the idea that I am just hanging around you because you have that $50, 000 USD (United States Dollars, okay, which is what, about two million Philippine pesos, right) just sitting there waiting to be spent or invested (we can talk about that investing later which is a good idea even if like with me it ties up dough so you can’t get to it quickly sometimes). But I figure there is no harm in trying to see if you can help me since I am the guy that got you the dough to pay the life insurance premium on your late mother’s, RIP, policy in the first place.

[Tim had the day before written a “distressing” short e-mail about his own mounting bills which had to be paid and which thus made it impossible for him to send that couple of thousand, $2100 USD, United States Dollars, Katrina “needed” to pay out the hospital bills and the back rent. Her response “could he sent say $1500 USD.” Jesus what a vulture.]

The problem like I told you earlier is that with one thing and another I only have about two thousand ($2015 USD, United States Dollars, about a hundred thousand Philippine pesos, right) in the bank as of today, and that includes the one thousand bucks ($1000 USD, United States Dollars) you are not supposed to go below or they whack you with a penalty. So I am short, way short and if some dough I am expecting doesn’t come in from the various accounts (as you know, or maybe you don’t know but I will tell you now, we sent out invoices on monthly billing on the 15^th of the month [our time, the 16^th your time]) I am cooked because that bill will bounce from here to China, or maybe the Philippines anyway.

You know with my recent health problems which means I better have health insurance or go directly to the poor farm and the requirements of the Affordable Health Care Act to keep health insured (you might know that Act as Obamacare but that is the official name, okay) I cannot afford to let my health insurance lapse-even short term-since they double whack you with a premium hike and a penalty on your state/federal taxes. So I need to make sure I have dough to cover to be on the safe side by Friday April 29^th (Saturday April 30^th your time). That is why I need your help. That is why I know you will not let me down, no way, you are not built that way. I know that already.

Here’s the way out, here is the caper that depends on you and your help. I know you are in that dirty dungeon of a hospital, (where are you being held now - in the charity wards with the geeks and “lost souls” –damn those bastards holding you like this was the 19^th century and you were in some debtor’s prison out of a Charles Dickens novel). I know too that you have no dough to pay off your freaking mounting hospital bills since you can’t get over to Sun Life to get your hands on that real dough, that $45,000 USD in cash (United States Dollars) that will set you, your brother, your cousins Rudy and Jonathan and ME too up for a while. I know too because you told me and because you are a young woman who is both responsible enough to want to pay her bills as best she can and do stuff legally you don’t want to just “jail break” out of that hellhole. But this is what I want you to do first thing Monday morning your time (Sunday our time)-and it is perfectly legal-just go to the hospital administrator or the head of the billing/accounting department and tell them your story. Tell them (and show them that paid up invoice and the insurance policy too) you need to get out to do business with Sun Life. Let them have somebody go with you if they say they don’t trust you to come back. Tell them you will have dough, cash, dollars to pay off that hospital bill in full (don’t get pesos because as I will tell you in a minute how much I need they don’t help me in the United States, okay). Cry, flirt, go into a fit of despair, threaten them with a lawsuit, mention you have a lawyer (me) who will get to the bottom of this sordid business but make them do the right (and smart for them) thing.

With that done (with or without some escort-does it really matter to you, I hope not because you are up against it and I am too remember) and with your money safely in that BOD savings account (Banco de Oro) you can sent me say $1500 USD (United States Dollars, please), maybe $2000 USD (you know what that USD means now, right) by the best available method. A thousand ($1000 USD) might be enough if a check for $2500 USD comes in from a guy I did work for last month but figure the two numbers I quoted you-okay. You know more about all the aspects of international money transfers than I do so that is up to you-you know my name and address I think and if not I will sent it to you after you do this wonderful deed. I know you are a good girl and that you can do this for me, please. But I need it by Friday okay. You can do this, I know you can and if for some reason I don’t need the dough I will let you know before Friday because like I said I don’t like the idea that you might get the idea that I am just looking for a hand-out since right now you have a ton of dough just waiting to help you out and I am up against it.

If there is a snag on this perfectly reasonable plan for some reason here is what I ask you to do. Doesn’t your cousin Rudy, no, Ricky owe me five hundred buck ($500 USD) from back a couple of months ago when I sent him dough from Washington to cover a speeding ticket or some problem he had. Tell him I will settle for say $250 or $300 USD and forget the rest. Your cousin Jonathan sounds like a helpful guy can you hit him up for say another $250-300 USD (maybe he and Ricky have to do it in Philippine pesos but that is okay I will take that and convert it here). How about your brother, I forget his name but I think it was Angel, or maybe I hope he is an angel, he must have few bucks saved up somewhere, say maybe $100 USD (or the peso equivalent). Maybe they can sell some books, or a television or something. Of course with Johnathan and our angel brother I will pay them back-asap-you know that, right. Let’s say they can put together $1000 USD together- that would help. Like I say you know all the money transfer routes so I will leave it up to you what way you sent it but please do so by Friday-okay.

I know you can do that first plan sweetie-do it for your good friend okay and when you get back to America believe me you won’t regret it-no at all.

**************

Lawyer Timothy Clary, despite due diligence and the hire of a private investigator, me, to “track her down like a dog” as he put it to me after, long after he got wise to what she was pulling on him, never heard about or from her again after that e-mail. Surprise-surprise. Good riddance-that’s me, Phil Markin talking.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

The Con Artist Conned- The Girl With The Sparking Eyes-Part Two

The theme song for old codgers who never give up.

By Zack James

Hey, Phil Larkin, P.I. private eye to you here to give you the low-down on my lawyer friend (and a guy I have worked for on a contract basis for several years), Tim Clary, who has as usual let himself get in way over his head with a dame, a young dame too, to boot who has been leading him by the nose (or another more private part if you ask me) for a few months now. Taking him for a dough ride. Usually I like to make some commentary but here I will just let him bask in his glory since apparently this time, this one last time as the dame, Katrina, has said right along he has finally got everything right-Good luck brother-and forget about “last time” with this one:

Sweetie-I hate to write a note like this but I am really up against it, or could be. I hate to ask for money from anybody since I usually have my own resources but like I said in my last e-mail I am in immediate trouble. I particularly hate to ask girls for money but I figure that we are beyond that, you are my best friend of late and I hope I am yours so it is okay. I know you would never let me down if you could help it and you already know I have not let you down when the deal when down. Another reason I don’t like asking you for money is because I don’t want you to get the idea that I am just hanging around you because you have that $45, 000 USD (United States Dollars, okay, which is what, about two million Philippine pesos, right) just sitting there waiting to be spent or invested (we can talk about that investing later which is a good idea even if like with me it ties up dough so you can’t get to it quickly sometimes). But I figure there is no harm in trying to see if you can help me since I am the guy that got you the dough to pay the life insurance premium on your late mother’s, RIP, policy in the first place.

Here is the score and remember this stuff is only something I am telling you about to try to have you do something about to help if other things don’t work out. On May 1^st (our time, May 2^nd your time), or really May 2^nd (May 3^rd your time, right) since May 1^st falls on a Sunday this year my yearly health insurance premium of $4462. 53 USD (United States Dollars, about two hundred thousand Philippine pesos, right) is due. Yeah, I know I should pay by the month like everybody else but stuff like that, stuff that you have to pay anyway, I like to pay in one lump sum. What happens is that Harvard Pilgrim takes that out automatically from my checking account (the one I control but which my accountant monitors for tax purposes and the never-ending freaking receipts and invoices that you know he is crazy for, that makes his day for crying out loud even if he is a good guy otherwise). The problem like I told you earlier is that with one thing and another I only have about two thousand ($2015 USD, United States Dollars, about a hundred thousand Philippine pesos, right) in the bank as of today, and that includes the one thousand bucks ($1000 USD, United States Dollars) you are not supposed to go below or they whack you with a penalty. So I am short, way short and if some dough I am expecting doesn’t come in from the various accounts (as you know, or maybe you don’t know but I will tell you now, we sent out invoices on monthly billing on the 15^th of the month [our time, the 16^th your time]) I am cooked because that bill will bounce from here to China, or maybe the Philippines anyway. You know with my recent health problems which means I better have health insurance or go directly to the poor farm and the requirements of the Affordable Health Care Act to keep health insured (you might know that Act as Obamacare but that is the official name, okay) I cannot afford to let my health insurance lapse-even short term-since they double whack you with a premium hike and a penalty on your state/federal taxes. So I need to make sure I have dough to cover to be on the safe side by Friday April 29^th (Saturday April 30^th your time). That is why I need your help. That is why I know you will not let me down, no way, you are not built that way. I know that already.

I know you can do that first plan sweetie-do it for your good friend okay and when you get back to America believe me you won’t regret it-no at all.

Lawyer Timothy Clary, despite due diligence and the hire of private investigators to “track her down like a dog” as he put it to me after, long after he got wise to what she was pulling on him never heard about or from her again. Good riddance-that’s me, Phil Markin talking.

Friday, April 22, 2016

A Twice-Told Tale-With Katrina The Girl With The Sparking Eyes In Mind

By Zack James

Hey, Phil Larkin, P.I. private eye to you here to give you the low-done on my lawyer friend (and a guy I have worked for on a contract basis for several years), Tim Clary, who has as usual let himself get in way over his head with a dame, a young dame too, boot who has been leading him by the nose (or another more private part if you ask me) for a few months now. Usually I like to make some commentary but here I will just let him bask in his glory since apparently this time, this one last time as the dame, Katrina, has said right along he has finally got everything right-Good luck brother-and forget about “last time” with this one:

And it is not just the court system that is screwed up but I remember back when I was doing more criminal cases starting out like a lot of young hungry lawyers looking to get a start in the business and some guy, usually they were guys, was in court on a drug charge, maybe trafficking, maybe possession of too much dope to not be prosecuted like for kilos or something who would get up on the stand and act all innocent (like I told him to do) and the prosecutor starts talking about a couple of prior convictions for the same offenses that had been “continued without a finding” (meaning they would go away if the guy kept his nose, literally his nose in cocaine cases, clean for a period long enough to say he was rehabilitated). Of course he never told me that little piece of information when I had asked him about “priors” so naturally I looked like a fool when I went to the bench and asked for some kind of plea bargain rather than the “not guilty” I was looking for. Or the time a guy in all honesty (he was a little simple-minded but not as much as he pretended) thought he had some kind of constitutional right to have a pistol in his hand when he displayed it in a 7/11 store in Dracut and the clerk, scared out of her mind, though it was an armed robbery as she handed over the money. It was, the guy had about six “priors,” for various armed and unarmed robberies. Had a million cases like that.

But enough of these law court “war stories” let’s get to why you should be happy that I feel good to be a lawyer today. Last night I was talking to my accountant about your situation, about the blizzard of e-mails we had sent back and forth earlier in the day in order to made a plan to move forward and get you out of “jail,” about what had been happening to you over the past couple of weeks since you paid off that late insurance premium on your mother’s life insurance policy. See I need his authorization from the law office accounts, especially for a large sum like $2100. I have been keeping him “out of the loop” on those bank transfer things that didn’t work because they were being drawn off my credit cards which he doesn’t have control over (meaning he doesn’t have to authorize use although he does need the monthly statements for tax purposes, Christ, he always as you know wants some damn receipt for every little thing).

By the way when I told him about the failed bank transfers from my bank, Bank of America (hereafter B of A), to your bank, Banco de Or, especially from Xoom which he uses all the time and likes and which you said you were not in favor of using he had the problem solves in a jiffy. That paperwork BOD (Banco de Oro) wanted you to sign was because you had a savings account and not a checking account. According to him there was no way Xoom or Bank of America (I mean B of A) could transfer money from my bank account to yours because you didn’t have a routing number. So what that local branch of BOD (Banco de Ora, okay) would have wanted from you if you could have contacted them was to sign off on paperwork to allow international bank transfers into your savings account. That was all.

But that wasn’t the reason he, my accountant, called me, although while I had him the line I told him about your situation. You know about you being in the hospital for stomach ulcers since you had not been eating, or had been fasting for some reason, I don’t remember off-hand which it was, the former I think, but basically not taking care of yourself because you had no dough to live on until you cashed in on the $45,000 (sorry I don’t know how many pesos, Philippine pesos that was, about 2,000,000 if I remember the conversion rate correctly) insurance policy we had paid the premium on. That you had gone to the hospital, taken I think by your brother and two cousins, Rufus, no, Ricky, and Jonathan the night before you were supposed to get the big insurance pay-out you were entitled too. Damn getting sick just when you were going to get financially well. (Did you ever tell me your brother’s name I know he is a student and is about seventeen, right?). They had taken you to the same hospital, Saint Tomas, where your mother had been taken to before she passed away and which we had had to buy off for $800 USD (United States dollars, 35,000 pesos right) in medical bills before they would let you give her a proper burial.

My accountant asked about which wing of the hospital you were being held at, the low-rent charity ward or the “plush suites,” his terms since he knew the hospital from trips to Manila on business, and I told him because we had pieced off the place in your mother’s case with that 800 clams (35,000 pesos clams) before they let you be treated with the Mayfair swells, you know the upper crust, in the nicer section (his saying “being held at” like you were a prisoner which is as you know I thought until just yesterday when you straightened me out and so I did the same for him about your wanting to do everything by the book, legally).

Now that the business stuff is over let me tell you a story about why I was asking for revealing photos of you. During this last insurance premium go-round my accountant said I was thinking with “my cock and not my brain” in dealing with you what with all the zigzags we went through. He didn’t exactly put it that way but you know how guys talk about good-looking women and their desire for them what he meant was that I was pussy-whipped, “cyber-pussy-whipped” by you because every little request by you for anything and I was calling him up day and night to see if it could be done without getting into trouble. That got me to thinking back to the previous photos that you had sent me of you before you went away. I was thinking that if I was pussy-whipped (which you and I know I am not but rather just trying to help a damsel in distress and will in the future too if necessary and we will work out some kind of thing that will be okay for both of us so we are on the same page) then I might as well have a look at the pussy I am being whipped by. Sometime when you get a chance I would not a little photo like that. This would be just between us but I would be able to laugh every time he went on and on about stuff like that. You could do that for me sweetie I hope.

Then I sent another e-mail which went like this:

It’s funny when you say you would never let me down because all through this business stuff whatever was going on I think in the back of my mind I had a feeling you would not, you just seemed to be that way. Maybe it was our both growing up kind of poor, kind of from the wrong side of the tracks as they say that made me feel that way. We can take about that some other time but we should talk about it.

You know you might know that guy Hemingway although not his name did you ever read about a story called the Old Man and the Sea where this old-time Cuban fisherman is out by himself and sees a huge fish that will put him on easy street if he can catch it and bring it back to port and sells it. He catches the fish but along the way back to port about seven things happen and when he gets to port there is nothing to sell, the fish is nothing but bones. So much for easy street…”

You had such a great response-remember. If not here’s the way that went:

“Hello babe thank you so much again I’m glad you like my photos! I know Woodie will like it too xoxoxo! Don't mind your accountant once we meet in person we will both show him and laugh in him for calling you that way! I know you're not that kind of guy he's just bitter because you will be with a fine lady and he won't! I appreciated all your good deeds for me babe and i promise I will never let you down! Speaking of down I can show you my down stairs of course but right after I get a phone with camera xoxo! Lol really? No I don't know that person but I love to read what you been writing! We will both go to the place I wanted so much and see the still constructing church together!! I've been reading a lot of space lately just bunch of random facts about universe and galaxy! I have never been to any nice place here since I don’t have money yet I have been eating more of Philippine foods and I kind of like it its call tinolang manok and pork sisig! Lol I’m glad you learning how to text if you can you can shoot me one sometimes and I will reply back! I only have less than 10$ to survive the week and I hope I can get the money by this coming week or next week once I do I will let you know and will keeping you update of my comeback! I miss talking stuff like this with you!”

“Desperate situation-HELP

All of this rehashing of e-mails has a purpose though, a purpose that will make you realize what a good guy my accountant really is, how much you and I owe him, and why I am happy to be a lawyer today. I mentioned to my accountant as we were talking last night that because you were, in effect, under house arrest you couldn’t leave the hospital under penalty of arrest and incarceration in a real slammer (jail) and so couldn’t get to your bank to take care of that international money transfer issue that I mentioned above that he had solved for us by cluing us in about what BOD (Banco de Oro) wanted from you. Also that your relationship with Sun Life was thwarted when you got sick the night before you were to complete the deal and couldn’t get over to their offices to get your hands on what I then thought was an insurance check you could deposit in your BOD (Banco de Oro) savings account. After you had told me that Sun Life only deals in cash pay-outs on insurance policies, even large ones like $45,000 USD (United States dollars and about 2,000, 000 Philippine pesos) I told him the same thing, Told him that was why you couldn’t draw the dough out since you had to go there in person. That because you were in gaol (jail) and nneeded my help for one last time to pay off your jailers (they really are when you think about it since you, trying to act legally, can’t leave except under severe penalty). Needed me to sent you $2100 USD (United States dollars, around 9000 or 10,000 pesos right?) via Moneygram in care or your cousin Rickey, no, Jonathan, Jonathan Mateo because Rickey had either lost his driver’s license or had failed to renew it (that’s right isn’t it, lost it for speeding or something-did he, Ricky, ever get it back).

That’s when my accountant “flipped” out but also came back to earth and “saved” us. He told me and I quote, “ What are you crazy, didn’t you know that Moneygram had been involved in settling a big fraud claims case a few months ago where they had let scammers use their site for illegal actions?” I said no, and that I wasn’t until recently in dealing with you up to speed on all this electronic money transfer stuff. He answered, “I wouldn’t use Moneygram in a million years.” Period.

When he settled down, after I asked him, pretty please, asked him how was I to help you if that avenue was closed off, he, once again came up with the solution. Here is where it is good to know a few people in key places. See he, as you might expect of a business accountant who works for lawyers, deals with insurance companies all the time, so he knows, Sam Larkin, the Vice-President for International Affairs at Sun Life in America, which Sun Life in the Philippines is a subsidiary of. My accountant called Sam this morning and told him my/your/our story. No problem. Sam has ordered an agent in the Philippines, Tomas Ramos, to go to your hospital Monday or any day you want if Monday is no good and on giving him your insurance policy and premium invoice do whatever you need done. If you want cash or a check, done. Sam suggested a check because $45, 000 USD (United States dollars, or what did I say before a couple of million Philippines pesos) is a lot of money to be carrying around the Philippines these days and he is right I think from what you have said about going out at night or just being around that dangerous drug-infested neighborhood you lived in with the batos hanging out right on that street you live on. If you need a ride to your bank, done. Anything you need just tell me what day and what time you want Tomas to come and take care of business and it is done.

So you can see why I like being a lawyer today. You win, I win, Angel (I think) wins, Jonathan and Ricky win. My accountant, a good guy right, wins. Great news.