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Pity (not) the poor pundit!
First of all, this writer is not a pundit. For two reasons: One, a pundit is supposed to be an expert, a maven, but who isn’t an expert nowadays? Second, the word sounds like “ban-dit,” which is the way it is pronounced in Yiddish, and I was called that often as a child.
But I like the alliteration, and I know the editor will and most of you will as well.
Now, to the point. Why not pity the columnist? Simply, some readers trust me. So much so that they ask me to do them a service, which in this case may help many others as well. The writer of the following extract from an email told me she did not want me to use her name. OK, Sherlock, correct. The writer was not a man.
Before we get to that, I already need to be pitied. I wanted to start the next sentence with the words: “The lady,” but now the word “lady” is politically incorrect. So maybe “the woman,” but I find that politically correct but in my ancient eyes disrespectful. I could say the female, but “When you refer to a woman as a female, you’re ignoring the fact that she is a female human. It reduces a woman to her reproductive parts and abilities.” That is a quote from a politically correct mentor.
In truth, that comes as news to me. I always looked at a person of the non-male persuasion as either having an attractive personality; that is, whether that human person was intelligent enough to conduct a conversation of some reasonable depth. But actually that is how I look at males as well. Usually by now I can tell by the eyes. The spark and sparkle of intelligence which invest the oculi. “The eyes are the windows of the soul” – maybe, but for me they are windows to curiosity.
Well, that was quite a digression. The point is political correctness.
Now do you get it? A pundit’s lot is not a happy one in choosing words, but is a satisfying role when able to perform a public service.
At any rate, the person who contacted me for help wrote:
“An Aussie expat senior citizen, am paying for many years nearly NIS 1,000 a month for two small print siyudi [nursing care usually for the elderly] policies – from Meuhedet [health services provider] and Migdal [insurance company]. Meuhedet’s policy contains 27 pages and Migdal’s – 8 pages. Both Migdal and Meuhedet refuse to provide written English translations. I have contacted the Justice Ministry, the Israel Bar Association, Yad Sarah, the AACI, Telfed, and Nefesh B’Nefesh, but they can’t help .... Translators ask for 40 agorot a word! By now, there must be retired medical insurance and legal professionals who have the knowledge to help!”
Thus, I am happy that this reader turned to me, and will welcome any qualified person who is willing to help to write me at 2avrahams@gmail.com.
The female human being who wrote this to me knows Hebrew – I have spoken to her by telephone. But even after 66 years in Israel, and having written articles and a novel in Hebrew, I find that legalese often seems to obscure the meaning to me. Maybe that’s why legalese was invented. (Am I allowed to write that so soon after Yom Kippur? You see? It ain’t easy.)
The inability to call something what it is, simply and without a lot of smeared politically correct makeup, has bothered me for years. “Personnel” was not good enough. “Manpower”? Come on... Now it’s “human resources.”
I find that insulting. I am human but why am I a resource? Some bosses I’ve had have found me resourceful, but I am a person. Do not dehumanize me as a resource. Forgive me, but isn’t that the way the Nazis used prisoner laborers – slave workers – as a resource?
I was very happy with the title “Secretary to the Prime Minister for Public Affairs,” but now everybody wants to be an “adviser.” Even “public affairs” may mean something different today.
PERMIT ME, dear reader, to continue in a critical mode in the hope of improving things. I never give up hope.
This is the case of a major credit-card company. Its profit is in the hundreds of millions. I did not receive a newly issued credit-card delivery on the date and time promised. Calling the company, waiting through endless jingles – which only jangled me – then being transferred with the promise that “you will be answered immediately,” spoken by the employee and then by a recording, after about half-anhour, I finally reported the non-delivery. “We’ll check and call you back.”
I: “Why check? I just told you it did not come.”
“Yes, but I need to hear ‘their’ side..” Stupidly, I did not say, “There is only the customer’s side! If I am not believed, don’t do business with me!”
To my great surprise, the call came a while later.
The female young human person: “The delivery service says you weren’t home...”
(I raise my tone and repeat that, of course, I had been home. Whose word should she take?)
The voice: “I am not saying who is lying, you or the delivery service.” “What? What did you say?”
From there it went from bad to worse. The young person did not get it at all. She was sure I had no reason to be insulted.
The rest of the tale is not relevant. Then, to add insult to injury, the credit card company’s website would not let me upload files to show my creditworthiness.
Actually, why should I need to prove it? Don’t we have credit rating companies? Shouldn’t the company want my business, and just ask permission to call my bank manager or write him, as a worstcase measure?
Companies that are for profit usually have the same sluggish entrenched management and hierarchy, which benefits the mediocre employee. But this particular company is below even this par. I’d love to name them but the ensuing back and forth would waste my valuable time.
Lesson to the reader: We are consumers. The moment we are mistreated, we must protest. I did receive an apology and a gift certificate for NIS 100. My time is precious, but being called a liar is beyond reparation. They just don’t get it, do they?
To end, this is an atypical occurrence. The basic problem, as David Ben-Gurion said, “Jews are not made to serve.” The “server” had to be right. How dare I challenge that?
While you are in your sukkah enjoying your succulent food, invite the CEO of X, and tell him to do what he asks his customers to do.
Potential olim, my country – your future country – ain’t perfect. But it’s home. Where else could a young girl (lady, female human, woman) tell an 87-year-old person that she is not saying he’s lying!
The New Year is upon us, let’s all start anew.
“Hello, please stay on the line. Your call is important to us... important to us... important to us .... you will be answered immediately, immediately. Why not use our website. No need to wait online. You are No. 3 in line... you will be transferred immediately... immediately… immediately .... immediately...”
The inability to call something what it is, simply and without a lot of smeared politically correct makeup, has bothered me for years