« Yum! | Main | A Bevy of Muni Complaints »

I was on the phone just now with a 401(k) custodian, or administrator, or something -- I'm never clear exactly how that stuff works -- and she put me on hold for a moment. And that's when I heard it: their hold music was clearly a 1950's-style Hollywood-Western Indian raid on a wagon train. The rhythmic native-ish drumbeat, the muttering chant and the savage whoops and yells, the clopping of horses and blasts from muskets -- there was just no mistaking it. "What the fuck" I said out loud into the recording. And then the 401-k lady came back and we were talking about disbursements again like nothing strange had happened.

Then she put me on hold again a few minutes later, and this time it was smooth jazz.

I'll never understand the world of finance.