The Flog – The Fabry Log

I did something yesterday, said goodbye to something that I hadn't planned. It's a divorce, in a lot of ways. I think it's a sign of health because I haven't been able to even consider doing this in the last two years. There were just too many things bigger than car insurance.

However, over the weekend things came to a head. Perhaps it was the cost of the new 6 month premium I finally got the nerve to open. Or it could have been the phone call I received from a young man at the insurance agency, the one with such boyish excitement in his voice.

"Mr. Fabry, I think I've found a way to save you a TON of money." He emphasized the TON part. Twice. Like it was GINORMOUS. I would be able to buy a boat, a new sleep number bed, or perhaps fill my gas tank.

"Really?" I said. "Tell me about it."

We went over my policies, my 5 cars, the cash cow that is my life. Insurance companies salivate when they see me driving down the street. I get mail from them every day. President Palmer from 24, the little Gecco, the lady in the nurse outfit, they all come to my door like Jehovah's Witnesses.

"Looks like we can save you $250 if you buy a new life insurance policy. It's a new program in the last year."

Really? I need to buy something else in order to save a TON? Something seemed GINORMOUSLY wrong with that picture. And why was I just getting the call now? I've been with this insurance company a long time. I started buying insurance from them in 1982, if I'm not mistaken. That's 28+ years. Does anybody stay with a company that long?

This company followed us from West Virginia to Illinois to Colorado to Arizona. But in actuality, I followed them. It was easier to stay with them because they had our records in their system. Call it lazy. I usually shop around, but I liked their commercials on TV, the color of the logo, the catchphrase, and the ease of writing their name on my check.

In the last 28+ years we've never had an accident. At least not one they covered. I backed into my daughter's car in our driveway and smashed the door. That was on me they said. My son dinged another man's car at Walmart. "You'd be a lot better off taking care of that yourself," my agent said. "Your premium would just go up."

I think we actually got a windshield or two in 28 years. And more than a couple of tows. But when we had our house problem in Colorado, the little one where we lost everything because of toxic mold, when we really needed answers, we found the insurance company didn't have any. Or money. Zero. It was a pat on the back, "Sorry that happened," and new premiums in the mail. My agent in Colorado, a man who attended a mega-church in town, said the equivalent of, "Be warmed and filled." He spoke with compassion but said mold was excluded on the policy. There was actually $5,000 worth of coverage but because it was a "slow leak," we were denied.

Sigh. I don't blame him. The industry got smart to mold about the same time we began having the problem. We had a contract and the contract excluded our problem. But I couldn't help feeling troubled by hearing platitudes. I wonder if I would have handled it any differently if I sold insurance? I wonder if I've said the same thing in other ways?

I don't for a second think this new company will be any better. It'll just be cheaper. And have a new logo. And for now, not ask me to buy a life insurance policy to reduce my auto insurance. And pay about 1/3 of what I was paying for 28+ years to my long-term friends.

I've tried hard to keep bitterness from this divorce. I've waited a long time to make a rational and not a hasty decision. A decision based on clear-headed thinking that protects the ones I love and helps me be a good steward of the funds entrusted to me. It's a healthy move. And I have a TON of hope about the future.

On this first day of summer, I'm not bitter. I'm just enthusiastic.