The executive summary is that the hours and project management that has gone into my effort to manage gracefully a revamping of my financial picture to accommodate current reality has been Herculean, diligent and compliant, assertive and redundant.

Please understand that I’m not going to grouse – much. Or defend because I know how responsible I have been and that it really didn’t matter. So be it. I am changing my game plan, though, and reactivating this blog with a new Category as part of that game plan. I’ll explain in a minute.

My game plan has been to work with JP Morgan and Chase, both locally and in New York. Local employees have had even less success than I have myself.

I have submitted or resubmitted the same and updated paperwork to Chase more times than I can count without consulting my very thick log. I set up a project management plan because, for example, my case was closed without informing me, Chase communications are internally contradictory, and even after buying stock in the company in the hope I would receive humane treatment rather than discourteous or nonexistent customer service, it got worse. I need the help because if my temporary downturn in income. It took 14 months for Chase to tell me no because my situation was a ‘temporary downturn in income.’ No kidding! Really? And the second reason? I’ve been paying my bills. Really?

14 months. My story isn’t even news anymore. I will not benefit from Obama’s executive order. I cry uncle. Maybe today’s meeting between the White House and Wall Street will make a difference and this blog is moot.

I have a media campaign & spread the word plan, media contacts, private phone numbers into Dimon’s office and Obama’s administration to possibly provide ammunition to aid others and raise citizen activitism. I am dragging my feet. I ask myself why. To have come so far, only to close the door with less money, less time, more deferred home maintenance, and less faith in so many things…. I drag my feet. Why?

I’m tired. I’m disillusioned. Probably learned helplessness, as I have had to explore my internal landscape when I feel caught in Victim mode. It’s ironic even. JP Morgan was a previous client hiring us to assess their readiness for a virtual work environment. I liked them. I’ve always enjoyed listening to Jamie Dimon.

The financial lack of results is infuriating, but the bigger pain for me is that I am giving up on the system. I need to focus – and WANT to – on my work and thought leadership in helping organizations and people grow through better collaboration for strategic accomplishment across internal, geographic, and organizational boundaries. My upbringing chides me – you’re letting them win.

My time spent jumping through hoops to entertain the drones of the robber barons has taken me from my business development activity.

And I am one of the lucky ones. My income has been slashed by 2/3, but I have been working even if a bit underutilized. In 2009 75% of my net income went to my house payment.

I’ve made 3 decisions.
1. My commitment to doing good work over greed has not served me, and greed is still good on Wall Street. I have to find the balance that works for me. That is MY work. I tilt at windmills when I find injustice doggedly, and that has to go on hold for the time being.
2. I have worked with businesses over a quarter century, and I am mission, strategy, even business model neutral. I am Values Alignment and People Integrity biased. If JPMorgan says it fosters “a culture that stresses the highest ethical standards in support of clients,” I want to see aligned words and action. When I don’t, I will move on as quickly as I can, whether as consultant, advisor, or customer. I am accomplishment committed, and words and actions misaligned interfere with accomplishment. Anyone want to finance my mortgage when on paper it don’t look so good? (Only half kidding, and no mortgage lenders need apply.)
3. I have to scale back my efforts to fix the unmotivated, like the banks. I want to see this through but need to leverage my time more smartly, so commit to short updates in a separate blog category here. If you are or know an interested party (media, influencers in business or DC, activist changemakers and professional consumer rights advocates, politicians, affected individuals) who might want to join, lead, or take on the banks’ total indifference to us middle class Americans…. Please forward, connect or join the conversation.

I’m getting back to the work I love to do – facilitating forward movement for people who want to move forward. Thanks for letting me get this imperfectly expressed frustration off my chest.

I want to be part of it but cannot lead. I have to do my work, save my home, and live my life again.
It’s up to me; just not in the way I foresaw.

I got credentialed for Obama last night, so I was there!!!! It was powerful to feel the entire stadium vibrating with the foot stomping, and to be close enough to take pictures of history makers like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, and to see one of my heroes, Charlie Rose, experiencing the same moment I was. We were experiencing, mostly Democrats, but also a huge contingency of Republicans, Independents, Libertarians… Well-dressed and sportswear … heels and sandals… all cultural and national heritages represented in both body and garb, at least by Denver standards…  old and young, people flying and driving half-way across the country and people like me who live close enough to walk ….. it was cool. (Yes, cool…. I’m middle-aged, and it’s one of my core words.)

And that’s not the biggest story. For me, my story, my real life demonstration of the promise and the demands of Candidate Obama’s Acceptance Speech is the people.

We, the people entering Invesco Field from Federal Blvd, are my story. Other stories in that parking lot began before I arrived, and some were still being lived as I finally successfully traversed the blacktop, alleys, hills, and crosswalks of getting to Invesco Field. My story lasted for 2 ½ hours. Hours standing in that disorganized waiting mass of people who were there on faith – absolute faith that somehow this is the only place they can be. What followed, IMHO, birthed LIVING our faith as we created a pragmatic temporary community. Out of confusion and disorganization came collaboration and strangers talking and ended with appreciation and sometimes budding friendships.

We had followed instructions scrupulously, and few had water bottles. Yet there we were in full sun at the heat of the day wandering around on blacktop. For any of you reading this who have summers, you already know that the temperature reflecting off the ground literally radiates heat. Across an open space you can see the heat waves hovering over the asphalt.  Thousands weaved a crawling line on the blacktop. Some discovered they had stood in a dead line that never moved and went nowhere. No guides came to help, and cameras were the security patrol.

We began to talk to one another. We began to coordinate ways to verify we were in a moving line that went somewhere. We sent scouts. We sent emissaries to ask for water (which came after awhile by the truckloads… literally). We held one another’s place in line. We left line to stand in other “necessary” lines, putting our faith in total strangers that they would hold the space for us. We exchanged cell phone numbers to communicate news across the parking lots and fields. We held each other’s elbows and leaned on one another’s shoulders as we traversed dirt hills. Sometimes we complained, but only a little. Mostly we talked and got to know one another and talked about how we were participating in history. Amazingly little talk of politics. A lot about believing in ourselves again. Or for the first time.

All while being hot and thirsty and a little pissy about the lack of planning. Mostly, we were just happy to be there. We were happy to be there. As time passed and needs grew, we were still happy to be there, but saw a long line of the same ahead.We stepped up to taking full responsibility about how to take care of ourselves as best we could. We were there for something bigger than our comfort or lost time or missed show or disappointment in the bureaucracy for being unable to plan better for the known numbers. AND we had needs. So we communicated, collaborated, and cooperated in getting whatever we needed done. We lived the promise. Can’t say we were all happy about it, but we accepted reality for what it was and made the best of it.

With the power of faith in not only the importance of the event, but also the possibilities of real change and hope, and with the intention of making the best of it, we did. Through teamwork among strangers and respectful boundaries about not cutting in line while holding the space for those temporary team members, we moved forward toward the Stadium and our future, while still doing what we must and run errands for one another. Great conversations happened with people I would never meet otherwise. The 45 minutes in line at Burger King for a soda and burger was a great conversation among 3 middle-aged women and 2 East Coast college freshmen women, and the occasional sporty guy who popped in to keep us updated on any forward movement in our “real” lines. We expanded our emotional bandwidth with ourselves by connecting as women across generations and the country, sharing why we were there and creating a kaleidoscope of perspectives that broadened each of us. It was cool. The whole experience was cool. Beyond the fireworks and the stadium and the great speeches and mass cheering, here I am. And there you are. It’s the people. It’s always, when we peel it all away, the people.

At work. At home. In our citizenry. In our faith. In our life. When I speak on working virtually, I say Technology is the Enabler, but People are the Key… It’s about the emotional bandwidth of how people contract with and keep their commitments to one another. That’s how work really gets done. Well, yesterday afternoon while missing Jennifer Hudson and Stevie Wonder and MLK III, the real story was on that blacktop and in that field and in those alleys. The real story was the people. It’s always the people. I’m really grateful this person was there.