“I understand there has been a lot of anxiety. People aren’t sure what to make of it. They’re worried about a new agency and how it will exercise its authority. But we’ve been reasonable, open-minded, accessible and genuinely focused on trying to get this right.”

– Richard Cordray, five time winner of the television game show Jeopardy and current Director of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau

I dunno. There is a lot to talk about this morning. Tex hired a new bartender, a lovely young woman named Brenna, and you can imagine the usual suspects were all agog at the Willow Bar last evening. Tex did the honors, waving down the suspects at the Amen Corner: “Look out for these characters, Jerry-the-Barrister, Old Jim, Jon-without, John-With, the Lovely Bea and the infamous Vic,”

After the pleasantries of the introduction, I asked the pointed question: “OK,” I said, taking a sip of happy Hour white. “What is your life narrative?” Jerry tried to assign her a call-sign; he came up with “Bruno,” which I do not think is going to fly. Brenna is a beaming blonde kid with a winning smile, and she was up to the task.

“I graduated High School, got a job to make some money, saved some, and took off to visit South Africa, Kenya, Egypt, Oman, Bahrain, Qatar and India for five months.”

“Alone?” I asked.

“Yep. I had to come back for a wedding or I would still be out there.” She tossed her medium-length hair in a winsome gesture.

“What was your favorite?” I asked. “This sounds a lot like what I did back in the day.”

“Climbing the Great Pyramid at Giza while the protests were going on in Tahrir Square. But I loved India. I am going to save up some cash and go back out.”
Brenna is a keeper. The response from the panel of experts on the discussion side of the bar was uniformly positive, and we decided to tip generously. Jim used only cash. I have not had any for a few days- my walking around stash in the wallet had dwindled while the JG was getting ready to go, and I had not got around to replenishing it.

I fished the Chase Visa card out of the wallet and noted it was not seriously melted from overuse.

“You have to watch that,” growled Jim.

“What do you mean,” asked Jon-without, who was putting a Mastercard in the black leatherette folder with his tab in it.

“You thought the NSA mess was a big deal? You ought to see what those morons at the Consumer Protection Agency are up too. I saw it on C-Span this afternoon.”

“Wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about? I thought they set that new bureaucracy to look at payday loans and debt collectors?”

Jerry the Barrister took a bite of salmon Kabob and put on his law face. “No, this is a much more comprehensive approach to managing the economy. They are responsible for writing rules on mortgages, debit cards, student and auto loans and much more. They will be looking at everything to ensure there is no institutional racism and stuff like that.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said, looking at the card in my hand. “Wasn’t that how we got into that whole liar’s loan mess in the housing bubble?”

“That is where it came from,” growled Jim, slamming his empty Bud long-neck on the bar, and waggled a finger in Brenna’s direction for another. “the paper this morning said that Dick Cordray is looking to monitor 80% of all credit cards transactions in the country. That is something like 42 billion transactions.”

“Wait a minute. I buy everything with my credit card,” I said, thinking just how much of me is now sitting in some government data base. Ammo, sex toys, food…places, things and activities….”Holy freaking crap!”
“Yeah. We keep having these national ‘conversations,’ race, gun control, NSA surveillance, secret courts and stuff, and then one of the parties gets up and goes to the kitchen for a beer and we never hear anything more about it.”

“I am not so worried about the NSA. I know the rules and I think they generally obey them. It is the IRS and those guys that scare me. And who are these guys and why are they collecting all that crap? And why haven’t we heard about it? This is a de facto gun registration list, among other things, not to mention a record of everything we like, including how often we are here,” I said, waving my hand generally around the bar.

“Ah, Vic, you are overreacting,” said Jerry the Barrister. He was paying with a credit card. What would you have to fear from your own Government?”

“They are going to monitor all the mortgages, too. In fact, Dick Cordray defended the data-mining at Morgan Chase, Bank of America, Capital One, Discover and American Express.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, beginning to panic. “Theoretically, couldn’t they access my credit card records and see how often I dine out, and then deny me health care for not following Federal guidelines on the food pyramid. Or that I buy alcohol and cigarettes at the Commissary?”

Jerry the Barrister made a steeple of his fingers and assumed a professorial manner. “Dodd-Frank, which established the CFPB, prohibits the bureau from collecting ‘personally identifiable financial information’ on consumers and prohibits it from regulating practicing attorneys. It looks like they have already violated attorney-client privilege by accessing document archives of thousands of bankruptcy cases.”

“Crap,” I said. “I didn’t vote for Brave New World. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.”

“Probably a case for the mass violation of the Fourth Amendment, too, the right of the people to be safe in their papers and possessions and particularly the counsel of their lawyers.”

“You would take that position, Counselor,” said John-with, adjusting his bow tie.

Jim grimaced and did that thing with his eyebrows. “Cordray told the congressman that he needed to do it, and it was something he thought he ought to do. He got some push-back. The Members claimed his agency was operating beyond its legal authority, rife with conflicts of interest, and filled with mismanagement.”

I started to laugh as Brenna brought my card back, and I tipped 50%, just to set the terms of our arrangement- I tip and she gives me the extra bit on the pour. It is a sort of personal arrangement that only she, me and Richard Cordray know about.

“How on earth this this any different than anything else in this town? But I think I need to stop at the ATM.”

Jim scowled. “They are copying that, too. In fact, that was first.”

Copyright 2013 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303