To my surprise they all said no!

To my surprise they all said 'no'.

The current marriage equality survey has huge swathes of the country thinking about 'yes' or 'no'. I'm firmly in the 'yes' camp for fairly obvious reasons and to my relief most people I know appear to be of like mind. That is to be expected, I suppose.

So who surprised me by saying 'no'? Well, it was nothing to with marriage equality. I'm about to depart for a holiday in South Africa and neighbouring countries. In preparation for the trip I visited my usual foreign exchange outlet to purchase some South African Rand. I wasn't expecting any problem. After all, the Eastern suburbs of Sydney has a very large South African expat community.

To my surprise the outlet said it doesn't sell the Rand. I tried a nearby outlet and they were the same. 'No' we don't sell Rand. A third and fourth outlet were the same. It took the fifth outlet to find one who could sell me some Rand. Even they do not usually sell Rand, the cashier told me, but a customer had ordered some Rand from them but then cancelled the order. Basically they were keen to offload their holding on me. 'Would I take it all?' the cashier enquired. She offered various inducements but I simply did not need that amount.

So, it is a bit like marriage equality. In the currency world, love is love but there is nothing so unloved as the unloved.

What the f.....

My credit card provider has written to inform me - and no doubt many others - that my card will 'no longer be offered' from 5 August.

WTF!?!?

I use the card regularly and I have many direct debits linked to it. What a f#$%&ng nuisance.

Now, to clarify. I have two credit cards provided by the same bank. One card is of the variety whose name is like a travel document. The other card, the one 'no longer offered', is of the variety that one 'should never leave home without'. You know the one. It is the one that many retailers won't accept anyway and that most of those who do apply a higher surcharge to.

Having delivered that sucker punch I read on to find that the account fee for the remaining card will in future be (think of any number 165% higher than the previous one).

Disgraceful.

I've been compromised

My weekend is off to a bad start.

I came home to a message from my bank that my ATM card has been compromised and cancelled.

My card number and PIN were used five times today at a suburb 50kms from where I live. Person(s) unknown checked my balance, made two withdrawals and two other withdrawals were declined. I did not authorise the transactions, nor have I loaned out my card at any time, nor have I shared my PIN.

My guess is that the card was 'skimmed' when I was using it an ATM.

Following up this afternoon the bank has accepted a fraud was committed and I will be repaid the two unauthorised withdrawals.

Unfortunately I have to wait for a replacement card to be sent to me.

It is an awful feeling. At least this bank was quick to pick up the fraud unlike another bank a year ago who, until I raised the alarm, failed to notice literally dozens and dozens of unauthorised uses of my credit card within a couple of weeks amounting to around $3,000 of services in a city on the other side of the planet at a time when I was clearly home in Australia.

We're in the money

Periodic visit to the financial advisor today. His business has moved. Same building as before but on Level 28 now instead of the previous Level 22.

As you can imagine spectacular views from Botany Bay and Sydney Airport to the northern suburbs and out west to the Blue Mountains. And all that just from the western side of the office.

Viewed from the foyer and meeting room this office is larger than the previous one. Not as darkly tasteful as previously. Bright lights and minimalist decor.

The new advisor handling my account - very cute, by the way - was quick to mention the landlord paid for the fit-out in order to retain them as tenants. No doubt this was to allay any concern I might harbour that my mighty wealth was frittered on their accommodation.

The new name of the advisory business includes the words 'Wealth Partners'.

My wealth, they partner.

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Channel 10's ever helpful finance report on tonight's news

Bishopscourt

I so often post photos of the harbour from my apartment I thought I should offer another aspect of the view.

The official residence of the Anglican Archbishop of Sydney is Bishopscourt which you can read in the link has been placed on the market and is expected to fetch a considerable amount but nowhere near the figure of what was lost in the global financial crisis. I wonder what the parishioners feel about their church having lost 'about $100 million dollars'?

This is how Bishopscourt appears this cloudy evening as seen from my balcony.

It all looks very English (and 'Harry Potterish') in its leafy location amongst what Andrew likes to refer to as Sydney's salubrious eastern suburbs.

You can see from the lovely purple areas that it is the Jacaranda season in Sydney.

At home with Russell till the clouds roll by

I'm at home (yesterday) and a young Russell Crowe is creating mayhem in the background in Channel 7's midday movie. Something to do with Japanese Yakuza, right wing racist zealots and an irritating novice blonde air hostess.

Oh and the sky is darkening slowly ahead of a promised turbulent storm of rain and powerful winds the weather boffins have promised for the past thirty-six hours is about to hit Sydney.

Why am I at home at this time when usually I would be prowling the halls of the hospital with patients in tow? Well, I took the day off. I had an appointment with 'the bank'. No, I'm not in trouble. I went to discuss finances. OK, that's pretty obvious. I wouldn't be discussing my next dinner party, would I?

You see, an apartment in my building is coming on the market. It's bigger than my apartment. It's in better condition than my apartment. It has a better view than my apartment (which admittedly has a pretty good view of it's own) and it's on a higher floor than my apartment.

This is the first apartment of it's configuration in my building to come on the market since 2006 and the last one to be available before that was way back in 2002. My building has a great reputation so apartments here are rarely on the market and when they are, they never remain unsold.

Competition for it will be brutal but I'm putting myself in the mix.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Topical maths

or what the dentist did to me.

I'm not one to take much notice of invoices unlike some friends who scrutinise and question every line of their bills and receipts. So it was a bit of an education for me when I decided to read my dentist's statement of services claimed from my health fund for my routine check up this morning.

The dentist charged $235 for a ten minute check up of which $196 has been approved to be paid by my health insurer. I had to pay $39 to make up the 'gap'.

The examination, a minute or so of poking around my teeth, cost $44.50.

Two X Rays, a minute of action at best and less than another minute of scrutinising the scans, cost $33.00 each.

Removing calculus, a couple of minutes of scraping, cost $95.50. Until now I only knew of calculus as a mathematical process but apparently it also is the term for hardened plaque.

Finally a 'topical agent' cost $29.00. I had no idea what this was until I did a Google check and learnt it is an 'antiinfective' applied to a localised area. That must be the fluoride the dentist applied to my teeth at the end of the check up, another minute of activity.

All in all not a great burden on my wallet and I have to admit one of my less disconcerting dental visits.

Going...going...

Last week I attended an auction. I'd seen auctions in the movies and on television and as a child accompanied my father to a used car auction but this was the first property auction I had attended live and the first time I felt some emotional involvement in proceedings.

My friend Hn was bidding on a townhouse. A very nice townhouse. Two stories, three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, two large outdoor terrace areas, two car lock up garage and completely renovated. A very nice property indeed. Actually Hn didn't do the bidding. Our friend Ty was registered to bid on her behalf as he, amongst our group, was the only one with experience. Apart from myself, Ae, Je and Be were along for support.

The auction was held on the upper terrace in brilliant sunshine. An auctioneer set himself up with advertising banner for background, a printed and vocal spiel about the relevant law and a well practised line in realtor platitudes.

No one seemed ready to be the first to bid. The auctioneer spruiked the virtues of the property for what seemed like half an hour without a bid being made. In reality it was probably only five minutes before a couple in the corner was the first to blink. Quietly without me even noticing they made the first move and the auctioneer announced that he had...

...one million dollars.

I gulped. I knew the expected sale price had been advertised as above that figure but for some reason the reality of one million dollars being the opening bid shocked me. Slowly the bidding continued, each bidder upping the previous by ten thousand dollars. At each bid the auctioneer made a long drawn out show of concluding the auction and when eventually it appeared he was about to slam his gavel 'sold' another bid intervened.

Ty remained mute. No bid offered. He was displaying nerves of steel but I was becoming unaccountably nervous.

On and on the bidding rose. Just as it seemed the gavel was about to fall for the umpteenth time, Ty bid. Today, a week later I have forgotten what his entry level bid was. I think my own nerves had put me in a catatonic state at that point but suddenly I was alert and, oh so, nervous for Hn.

By now the bidding had passed 1.2 million and the realtor was doing the rounds whispering to the various bidders that the vendor would accept 1.3 million but no one was biting. No one was making that leap and each bidder continued to increase the bids at a more moderate rate.

Three times now, Ty had the highest bid in for Hn and the gavel was falling when another couple raised the bid again. Just these two bidders of the original fifteen registered participants left in the contest. Then Ty jumped twenty five thousand, the largest leap so far.

Would that be it? The auctioneer was into his 'going...going...' phase stretching it out ridiculously, seemingly for fifteen minutes when finally, agonisingly, almost unbelievably and blessedly he slammed the gavel...'SOLD!

Hn had purchased the town house for 1.275 million dollars.

At the time it felt like the auction had lasted hours but in reality it was all over in less than twenty minutes.

An item about the auction appeared in the property section of the local daily during the week from which we learned the vendor's reserve was 1.25 million.

A win/win sale, I guess.

Ka-ching!

It has been a bad week for my credit card.

- Saturday; new clothing and underwear for my mother at the request of her nursing home $200

- Tuesday; specialist consultation regarding my recent ear disturbance $209

- Wednesday; replacement hip protectors for my mother to guard against falls at the request of the nursing home physiotherapist $281

- Thursday; periodic car service and maintenance $437

- Thursday; spur of the moment clothing purchases for myself whilst filling in time during car service $320

I think I might just have a lie down now.

Easing the financial burden

Here is a company easing our pain in the current financial difficulties.

As easy as...0000000

I pay most of my bills through the Internet using the BPay system and certainly find it far more convenient than the 'olden days' of writing and sending off cheques or lining up at the Post Office to make payments.

The system seems to work well and is pretty simple. However one of my recurring payments has a reference number of twenty digits. Twenty! There is so much scope for miskeying that reference number, especially as there are seven, count em, seven consecutive zeroes within the reference. Is such a long reference number really necessary? Most of my other bills make do with far shorter numbers; one recurring bill manages with just a three digit number.

Bottom gear in the USA

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Is it coming to this....again?


(Breadlines in New York City during the Great Depression)

They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,
When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.
They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,
Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;
Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

["Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," lyrics by Yip Harburg, music by Jay Gorney (1931)]

I don't understand...

...Iceland is bankrupt after several weeks of global financial meltdown but Zimbabwe, which has inflation measured in the squillions for several years, isn't....

How does that work?

Bank runs

These bank runs in the USA are a bit of a worry.

What's that about when the USA sneezes, the rest of the world catches a cold?

Easy touch?

Earlier this year I approached a financial advisory service. I received their presentation and I followed up by signing with them.

The service was recommended to me by Hn who phoned this afternoon to say that she has received a surprise and that she has me to thank for it. The financial service has sent her a generous picnic hamper filled with goodies in acknowledgement of her referral. I'm not the first person she has referred but this is the first time she has received a lavish gift for doing so.

We had a good laugh over this but I am led to wonder whether the service sees me as a future source of their enrichment.

Teeth of gold?

Attended the Periodontist this morning, a regular nine monthly chore for me.

I think my Periodontist has made a living out of my check ups, the cost of which have gradually crept up and up. This morning's visit, all of five minutes in the chair at the most, set me back a cool $190. It can't be long before the $200 'barrier' is hit and no doubt passed. Even though I get about two thirds of the charge back from my private insurance it still amounts to quite a slug. I used to get a 'free' toothbrush with every visit but he no longer provides that treat.

The good doctor told me about his latest European trip at the end of today's visit. I suppose that was the least he could do seeing as I probably paid for it.

Who wants to be a millionaire?

(Cartoon: Richard Collins, The Age)

Somewhat weary from my limited sleep last night I still made it on time for my appointment this morning.

Sitting in the reception area waiting for my personal adviser to appear my mind turned to the delicate art of decorating a Financial Advice Service effectively.

To my mind such an office needs to appear sufficiently professional and prosperous as to suggest to a potential client that this is a successful business that knows how to make money and therefore I should sign on and join the gravy train. On the other hand the office should not appear so grand and luxurious as to suggest that it is living the high life off the fees of its clients and therefore is a business to be avoided at all costs.

Looking around the reception office my bleary eyes take in a tasteful, mainly black (of course) neat and cosy area. No grand fountains, staircases or pianos. Check one.

Moving to the conference room I am seated around a (yes again) cosy table for four. No waiters, groaning buffets, overflowing drinks bar or massive trophy cabinets in view. Check two.

The consultation which follows is itself soothingly professional. Several personalised and flash booklets are tabled. Each sets out the lurid details of my financial affairs replete with dazzlingly colourful pie charts, graphs and percentiles. My night in Emergency is threatening to overtake my attempts to appear to receive this burst of information as though I am totally cognisant of business matters to PhD standard. In reality I begin to wonder whether I will be permitted to phone a friend for assistance.

I am conscious that my every utterance at this stage betrays my financial naivete and I expect that at any moment the adviser will wheel in an audience to provide four unhelpful multiple choice prompts for me to choose from.

The adviser's triumphal final flourish comes when discussion moves to their fees. I never realised before how amazingly small a percentage can sound. I start to feel smug that I have selected the cheapest service in town. My moment of glee is destroyed when I notice what the fine print shows in dollar terms. It is almost beyond belief how many digits in dollar terms that oh so tiny sounding annual fee percentage is equivalent to.

I depart shell shocked and armed with my personalised booklets promising to do my homework. I've always been a sucker for the least line of resistance and I know I don't have the stamina to 'test drive' another service for comparison. So, no doubt after a suitable period has passed to suggest that I have carefully and fully digested the adviser's reports, I will call the adviser back and sign on for the deluxe, term of my natural life, program.

Money...money...money...

(Google images)

Tomorrow morning I venture into new territory, my first appointment with a Financial Adviser.

Actually it's my second appointment as I saw him first a while back to discuss my situation and interest in obtaining advice. That initial contact was fascinating to me as it also included a type of psychological assessment to help him determine what type of risk taker I am. This assessment apparently helps him to frame recommendations for me and I assume also informs him of my toleration or otherwise for risky financial advice.

The adviser was recommended to me by my trusty friend Hn who has used him for years. I trust Hn's opinion on financial issues given her former career in the Tax Office.

It might be rather late in the day for me to be seeking financial advice given that I am already retired and in senior citizen territory but I suppose better late than never. It will be interesting to see what is recommended with Stock Markets on their slide and banks jittery everywhere.

I'm not seeking to make loads of money but I am hoping to get advice to make best use of the income amd assets I possess.

For overseas readers the photograph is of Australia's colourful bank notes which are very different from the United States' bank notes.