“SCAM LIKELY”

MARCH 24, 2020 – The nation’s wireless networks deploy a technology that alerts you to a call from a number in a vast database of suspected scam artists. Such a call is alerted by the caller ID, “SCAM LIKELY.”  I do a double take whenever “SCAM LIKELY” lights up. For a nano-second, I think, “Who’s ‘Sam Likely?’” then realize it’s “Scam Likely.” As I learned yesterday, however, the system isn’t foolproof.

I phoned my Boston-based oldest sister and Dean, her wheelchair-bound husband (See posts, The Dean of Readers – 9/16/19 and Quarantine Coach – 3/18/20) to hear how they’re doing.  Kristina answered. We talked for a minute before she said, “Eric, I can talk more in a couple of minutes. Meanwhile, can I have Dean call you right back?”

“Sure,” I said.

A minute later, my phone rang. Up popped, “SCAM LIKELY.” However, I recognized the number as Dean’s.

“Hi, Dean,” I answered.

“Hi, Eric.”

“Did you know,” I started in, “that your call showed up as a likely scam?  What kind of scam are you running out of your house?”

“Well, actually, Eric,” said Dean without hesitating, “I’ve been running lots of scams out of our house.”

“What?!” I said. I knew that for Dean to be running a single scam outta anywhere would be wholly prevented by his DNA. And further, I knew that humor was in the offing. I decided to play the role of comedic accomplice. “So, Dean, tell me about one of your scams.”

“Well,” he said, “one of my better on-going scams is convincing my wife I can’t get out of my wheelchair. I’ve been running this scam for many years. It’s a wonderful scam.”

“How’s that a ‘wonderful’ scam?” I asked.

“She thinks she has to do everything for me.  I need a glass of water, she fetches me a glass of water. I decide I want to watch TV, she turns on the TV. Time for a meal? She prepares it for me.  I want to be out on the porch? She makes it happen.”

“I see,” I said.

“And she hasn’t caught on yet to the scam?”

“There have been some close calls,” said Dean. “When she leaves the house for a rehearsal or concert [my sister is a much-in demand free-lance violinist], I do as I please, but around the expected time of her return, I have to make sure I’m back in the wheelchair before she enters the house.

“A couple of times it’s been close. I’ll be upstairs working on one of my web-based scams, when suddenly, I see her car pull into the driveway. Then I have to shut down the computer really fast, shutoff the music, restore order to the desk, dash down the stairs, jump into my wheelchair, strap myself in, and catch my breath, all before the key goes into the door lock.”

“Hilarious!” I said. “I’ve got to write about this!”

“No, I don’t want her finding out. If she does, I’ll have to do everything myself.”

(Sorry, Dean!)

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© 2020 by Eric Nilsson