<p>I got a MASSIVE headache immediately after reading the last several posts on the “how to bring your gun to school” thread, so, decided to do something easier, like read my snail mail. </p>
<p>The first thing I opened was a letter from a very large federal agency that essentially says “we’re hopelessly backed up and short staffed and will get to your FOIA request whenever we can”. </p>
<p>Funny story, that. Two years ago I began conversations with this very large agency. Lots of meetings and lots of nice words that have been a complete waste of time. </p>
<p>Then, this past summer, they did something that prompted me to file a FOIA request, which should have been a rather simple matter, but wasn’t. It got all tangled up with their legal counsel, and finally, after several conference calls and WAY exceeding statutory limits, day before Christmas, I finally received about 40 pages of about 500 available, and with a lot of black magic marker all over it - all the stuff they redacted out. I decided not to file an appeal to get the rest of it, because at some point it all gets very silly. Oh, and I received an invoice for $3,500, too, which is ridiculous, considering that I’ve never heard of paying so much money for a FOIA request (but I did agree to the charge in advance because it required searching servers back ten years or some such thing). </p>
<p>In tandem, for about nine months last year, I tried every way to see their deputy director. Called and emailed his scheduler, etc. Couldn’t get an appointment no matter what. Finally, I attended a conference where he was the keynote speaker. Following his speech, which was rather lame by the way, I managed to work my way over to him, somehow slipped through his handlers and the press, got right in front of him (being petite and short helps a lot), handed him my card, and said “Mr. Deputy Director, I have been trying to schedule an appointment through your office, and I have been unsuccessful…” - and I was planning to next say, “can I arrange to get on your calendar…” but I never got a chance to say that. </p>
<p>I’ve read the expression in books “he looked down his nose…” - but, I’ve never, ever actually seen a person in real life look down their nose. But that’s exactly what he did. He literally looked down his nose at me, and then he sniffed at me (as if I smelled bad or something), and said “well I’m sure there must be a VERY good reason for that”! And then, he did something else I’ve also only read about in books - he actually, in one move, pivoted on the heel of his shoe, and turned 180 degrees so that only his back was facing me. I don’t know how he managed that but surely his parents provided him with ballet lessons at some point during his childhood. And then of course his handlers and the press closed ranks around him so it was game over. </p>
<p>(Which of course annoyed me greatly - I’m like, hello, YOU work for ME!) </p>
<p>So I returned home empty handed and resolved to just wait out the results of my FOIA, which was less than satisfying but good enough. </p>
<p>But then - the second week of January - this same agency sends a 200 page report to congress, and in two separate sections names me, complete with email, etc. as their solution to the particular issue they’re addressing. In other words, they flat out lied to congress. </p>
<p>At first, i was outraged. Then it struck me as extremely funny, especially when other people starting calling me and congratulating me for the accomplishment. Last, I considered sending them an invoice. After all, if they’re going to pretend to congress they’re my client, it seemed like they should be paying for whatever it is I’m doing for them. Finally, after thinking about it and realizing the agency could issue a retraction at any time, I picked up the phone, and called the one person left at this agency who will still speak to me or take my phone calls, and I told him about the references in the report to congress, and he said something like this:</p>
<p>“well, that’s not exactly what we said to congress. What we did was make a representative statement about something that we might do, or possibly that we would do, if we were going to do it, which, we don’t know if we should, and we do not know if we can get funded for it, and we don’t have the staff or authority in any case, and we won’t know until 2009 or so, therefore we haven’t, we didn’t, and we aren’t, but if we could, would, should, or did, this might be one possible representation, and that’s what we communicated to congress”. (???)</p>
<p>So, today’s mail was the response from an entirely different office within the same agency to a FOIA request that I did not send, did not ask for, and is not pending, or, if they’re somehow referencing the old one, they’ve already answered. </p>
<p>I’m thinking I should just send them an invoice, for, like a million dollars. Just for fun…</p>