I just don’t understand this at all.  Who is “Gold Pan Enterprises, Inc.” in Bradenton, Florida?  Why are they sending me collection notices for a bill I don’t even owe?  This looks like somebody else’s bill, from some mail-order catalog I’ve never heard of—something called Limited Editions Luxurious.  I’ve never dealt with those people—honest!  The only thing I got in the mail this year was a winter coat from L.L. Bean.  That is, shipped by Federal Express!  Their computer must have matched my name, which is fairly common, with another person—a glitch.  There isn’t any way I can find out where this other person, this namesake, actually lives; and I know better than to call that toll-free number listed on the bottom of the mailer.  I think what I had better do, is contact my cousin Joe and ask him if his sister, who’s a lawyer, knows of a legal assistance firm that could get me out of this and maybe even get these notices to the right party.  Maybe I can get into some program that helps people like me, such as the FDCPA.  I’ve never met Charlotte—she’s 12 years younger than Joe and I and was pretty much raised by my dad’s brother; they don’t talk anymore, not for a long time.  But Joe and I are in constant communication, thanks to his having married my childhood friend Tricia, to whom I introduced him at a Fourth-of-July barbecue.  Now that I think of it, I wonder if Trish has ever had this stupid problem.