A Boomer moment for which I do *not* apologize

Illustrated above is an exemplar of a check. In the prosaic language of Section 3-104 of the Uniform Commercial Code, a check is "a documentary draft, payable on demand and drawn on a bank," the kind of "negotiable instrument" that displays "an unconditional promise or order to pay a fixed amount of money" to a particular person or organization.

Check writing is apparently a lost art.

Indeed, when I went online this morning to search for a picture of a check with which to illustrate this post (not wishing to provide a picture of one of my own -- I see no reason to make it even easier for the Russians or North Koreans to drain my meager checking account), I found all sorts of helpful bank tutorials about how to properly write a check. Because the kids these days... and by "kids" I mean almost anyone 50 or younger... and certainly darn near everyone 30 or younger... don't know how to write checks. Instead, they apparently point their telephones at one another, like ray guns from a 1950s sci-fi kids show, and zap money to each other when required.

The accounts in which their zappable funds are held are still referred to as "checking" accounts, but the word has rather lost its meaning, since account holders seldom or never draw checks on these accounts. At least the phrase 'checking account' is no longer understood in its original sense, much like this symbol:

A younger person will recognize this as a "save" symbol, without having the faintest idea that the image is that of a 3.5" floppy drive... of which there are dozens gathering dust in my house alone.

And, of course, referring to the 3.5" disk as a "floppy" is a further example of a word that lost its original meaning, inasmuch as the 3.5" disk was entirely rigid and not floppy at all, as opposed to its predecessor, the 5.25" floppy drive that could hold an (at one time) astounding 360kb of data. Astounding, that is, compared to the 8" floppy disk... which was really floppy. I don't have any of the 8" floppy disks laying around... but there is quite a collection of 5.25" disks gathering dust in my home along with their 3.5" brothers and sisters.

But we will quickly climb out of that rabbit hole and resume our rant about checks.

The young people don't write checks anymore.

My wife, who is still teaching, has had occasion in recent years to order t-shirts for a school club she moderates. She asks the parents to send a check to cover the cost... and, with each passing year, this apparently becomes a more and more arduous task. Put it this way: The school parents need to look at the online tutorials I saw this morning. One parent wrote my wife a check with the amount of the check on the "pay to the order of" line. I had to take these checks to the bank for deposit... and I was afraid this one might not be accepted for deposit... and, indeed, the young teller gazed quizzically at that particular check for some time, before deciding to accept it.

If all goes well, later this summer, most of the Curmudgeon family will vacation together at a house I've rented for this purpose in another state. Middle Son wanted to book the house, but I pulled rank and claimed the honor. Among other reasons, I don't know how to point my phone at his and make money magically jump to his device from mine. "That's fine, Dad," Middle Son said, "now I'll get to write the first check since I wrote you the check for our vacation rental last year."

So I fully understand that the Young People don't write checks.

But... last I heard... the Uniform Commercial Code is still the law of the land (there may still be some variations of the UCC in Louisiana which are inapplicable to this discussion). A check is money.

So this past Tuesday, when I had occasion to be downtown for my only day of work this month, I brought with me a check to pay a department store charge card bill which was, by coincidence, due that very day. The walk to the store during my break would satisfy my Fitbit that I was exercising as it demands, and lend purpose to my wanderings.

I hoofed over to the store at my first opportunity.

I won't name the store, of course. I'm sure the store would be tremendously embarrassed by this story, or at least it should be, but if you guessed that the store in question has a modified bullseye for a logo, you'd be right on target. *Ahem*.

Anyway, I went to the customer service desk (I believe they call it 'guest relations,' but I have no relations working in that store that I know of) and presented the payment coupon and my check, whereupon the smile on the face of the nice lady behind the counter froze. "Oh, no, sir," she said, "we don't take checks here any more. It's store policy."

Now... being a reasonable fellow... I can understand a merchant being wary of accepting a check for the purchase of goods. If the check is no good, the customer has effectively absconded with the merchandise. There are civil and criminal remedies for passing bad checks, of course, but, while these consequences are far more onerous for the person passing the bad paper, there is, undeniably, a certain amount of inconvenience involved for the merchant. If the merchant does not wish to deal with that possibility, I do not say him nay.

I do not reflexively condemn every reduction of payment options. To cite an example: I am not happy with the fact that the pizza joint where I go for lunch on those few days I work downtown no longer accepts cash. Only credit or debit cards are accepted. But that is because, in Chicago, as perhaps in other big cities, there are people who view a cash register containing cash as an untapped wellspring for their own personal use. The pizza joint's policy is an unfortunate, but arguably necessary, response to a bleak reality of our modern world. The department store's position regarding accepting checks for payment of its store-issued credit card, on the other hand, is just plain stupid.

It is stupid because, when a person tenders a check for the payment of store-issued credit card, the merchant has no additional risk than it would if a person tried to pay online, and no inconvenience whatsoever. It is out no merchandise -- at least no new merchandise -- and, should the check prove to be backed by insuffience funds, the merchant can suspend credit, close the account, and maybe even sue. It certainly will add large penalties and fees and charge usurious interest on the balance due, just as it would do if no attempt at payment were made, or if payment were defectively tendered online.

So... yes, I suppose it was a 'Boomer moment' as I stood at the counter, brandishing my check, dumbfounded by the store's refusal to take my lawfully tendered payment. But it was not simply that I am old and the world has passed me by. I was right, and within my rights, and the store was stupid. So I make no apology -- this time -- for my Boomer moment. (I later paid the bill online, as I usually do....)