First off, I want to thank all of you that have clicked through and joined Prosper, especially those of you who went so far as to fund a loan - felt pretty good getting that instant $25, didn't it? :)
Remember, once you're a member, if you get others to join through the referral program, you'll get another $25 for each one of them that joins and funds a loan, or joins for the purposes of borrowing. And, as if I need to remind you, every dollar that is loaned from one person to another is one more dollar that THE BANKS don't get any part of (I just felt a tingle in my nether regions). Remember that banker that gave you a really hard time and just wouldn't listen to reason? Well, using Prosper is the financial equivalent of replacing his toilet paper with 80 grit sandpaper. Yeah....Ouch. ;)
That to me is the true win/win scenario. It's always great if I can save some money, or make some money - but add to that the thought that I might be able to sucker punch a financial institution in the process - well hell, that just makes Debt Daddy giddy as a schoolgirl (avert your eyes from the visual that may have stirred up).
I guess that's why Robin Hood has always been one of my heroes. He saw a wrong and he righted it. He saw inequity and did something about it, usually with a broad smile on his face. Because he knew - taking ill-gotten gain from one whom neither deserves nor requires it, and returning said money to those from whom it was originally taken, is not theft - it is justice.
It's not about stealing, it's about turning the tide. Nature knows all about this - there's a part of North Carolina called the Outer Banks. It's a truly beautiful stretch of barrier islands, best known for Kitty Hawk, where the Wright Brothers had their maiden flight. More important than its historical significance however, is the inlet system of the islands themselves. Every year, the tide carries sand from the ocean side of the islands through the inlets and deposits it on the sound side. In time, the currents take that sand back from the sound side and replace it on the ocean side, so the islands are ever shifting, but always there.
Then progress came along and mucked everything up. A large bridge was built many years ago across one of the major inlets, stifling the ability of nature to do its job. Does that mean that the sand stops moving? No. Now, instead of moving the sand to the sound side, a good portion of it simply gets washed out to sea, causing beach erosion and, in worst case scenarios, causing beach homes to be condemned because there's simply not enough land left to safely support their homes.
This is what's happening with money as well. When interest rates on credit card debt are allowed to skyrocket, it erodes your funds. When wealthy CEO's hoard millions, often billions of dollars in offshore accounts, the money doesn't flow and the system doesn't function as it should. When the government denies worthwhile programs that would help the poor and middle class while at the same time rewarding the wealthy, they have blocked the cash flow yet again. And when all of these financial factors are combined, eventually there is not enough left to support you and your financial life is condemned - condemned to a seemingly endless race to get back what you lost, to claw your way out of debt - to do whatever it takes to somehow turn the tide and regain that which the sea has taken from you.
That's what Robin Hood was about - restoring the balance. The king was overtaxing those who could not afford to be taxed so heavily, and Robin Hood took it back, returning the cash to those that needed it most. Was he a thief? Depends on how you look at it - as far as the British were concerned, George Washington was a terrorist. The FBI had this to say about Martin Luther King, directly following his "I have a dream" speech; "We must mark him now . . . as the most dangerous Negro of the future in this Nation from the standpoint of Communism, the Negro and national security." It's all about perspective.
From my perspective, we need more Robin Hoods. And each of us, in our own way, can become Robin Hoods. PLEASE NOTE: DEBT DADDY IS NOT ASKING YOU TO STEAL FROM ANYONE AS DEFINED BY THE LAWS OF THE LAND. DEBT DADDY DOES NOT CONDONE, NOR IN ANY WAY ENCOURAGE FELONY BEHAVIOR! We clear? (That said, if you wanted to cover Rush Limbaugh's front lawn in pink paint, forcing him to pay a struggling landscaper to put down new sod, well then - that's your call. I'm pretty sure that's only a misdemeanor, but check with your local authority.)
What I am suggesting is that we play their game. After all, the banks and the government don't break into your house and steal your prized possessions, do they? No; instead they legally jack up your interest rates and your taxes so that you are forced to sell those prized possessions on Ebay to pay the bills. We need some perfectly legal Robin Hooding ideas, and here are a few:
First of all, take a full weekend and study your income tax code and guidelines. Are you absolutely making the most of your deductions? Time to think outside that cursed box - is there a hobby that you engage in that might, with a little tweaking, become a business? If so, the money you spend on that hobby is tax deductible. When you tithe to your church or other place of worship, do you do so by check? You should - that check is a receipt for your charitable contribution - again, tax deductible. Could your own home possibly be considered a place of worship? I know of Orthodox Jews in my area that are using that strategy. Take a fine tooth comb to the tax books, and see what you might be able to use for your situation.
Speaking of taxes, have you appealed your property taxes? I had thought about this, but was afraid it might backfire and my taxes might go up. Turns out, if you appeal, they can only lower your tax or it remains the same - they cannot raise it (this is in my area - again, check your local authority for rules and regs).
Have you looked at Prosper.com? Many of the borrowers on Prosper are there for the purposes of debt reduction. A loan from Prosper is a fixed rate term loan, quite often at better interest rates than you're getting from Visa and the like. A whole lot of people are benefiting from Prosper, so much so that it was named as one of TIME magazines top 50 websites. Again, if you're interested or curious, click the blue link on the left of this page.
These are just a few thoughts - I hope that you will post your own ideas in the comments section. I'm open to any idea, however "out there" it might seem. Because we've gotta turn this tide, folks. We've gotta get back some of what they've taken from us. And we've gotta do it Now.
Rock on, Robin Hoods.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Debt Daddy - Burnin' Down the Box
Well, we have done the unthinkable...that which must never be mentioned....the beast with seven consequences....
We borrowed from our 401k account.
Okay, that's done it - the remainder of Dave Ramsey's hair just fell out in frustration over my blatant disregard for his rules. I know, I know - in Dave's world, borrowing from my 401k is almost as bad as sleeping with my sister, forcing her to have my baby and naming it Adolf Mussolini.
And yet, I'm just not seeing it that way.
I've had several major bills come in recently - between the life insurance, property tax installment and the dreaded, completely overpriced school tax, I was looking at payments totalling close to $12,000 - that's not even including all the regular monthly bills on top of that. Could I have worked day and night to make that money? Yes. Would I have made my nut? Hmmm....you might, rabbit, you might. Was borrowing from the 401k to take care of those payments the best choice? Maybe, maybe not - I am, after all, robbing my own retirement fund, taking from tomorrow to pay for today (and yesterday, and the day before, etc.). But (and here's the question that decided it for me), how much will you enjoy your tomorrows if you work so hard that you die today?
Today is all we have. Tomorrow is not ever guaranteed and, while we're on the subject, neither are the funds in a 401k or pension or any other retirement account - the value goes up, goes down, and sometimes disappears completely. However, the interest that your credit card company charges is always guaranteed - Visa isn't going to suddenly drop your interest rate from 22% to 3.9% because of volatility on the DOW exchange. So, while we have made good returns on the majority of our investments, and we'll miss those returns on a portion of funds for the time being, the fact remains that I'll have enough left over from this loan to pay off a few thousand dollars worth of credit card debt that's currently charging 18%. Meanwhile, I'm paying back that 401k money at an interest rate of 8.75 %, and that interest is being paid - to me. If I don't pay the loan off sooner, I will have, by the final payment, paid myself $3,783.20 in interest. Frankly, I'd much rather that I get that interest rather than Bank of America or Chase or Citibank or....you get my point. So, sorry Dave, I've been thinking outside the box again and, in my bizarre little mind, this just makes sense.
Thinking outside the box is not always easy. There are some pretty scary nasties on the outside of that box, which is why the box was built in the first place - to give us a comfort zone where we might feel safe and warm and cozy. The problem is, we don't have very much to do with the actual building of the box. Our parents, advertising and marketing companies, the government, teachers - they built our box - their values, mores and beliefs form the walls, floor and ceiling. I have a friend who, for the purposes of this entry and to protect her anonymity, I shall refer to as "Chamomile". Chamomile's parents lived through part of the Great Depression, and this of course has greatly colored her world view, especially in the case of financial matters. So much so that she will often say, "I am a child of the Depression". Now, unless the depression was still going on during the Kennedy Administration, that just ain't true. Doesn't matter; it's in her head - it's the mantra she heard, and the mantra she recites. She didn't build that box, but she's decorated it quite tastefully in the style of the times (which would be the late 1920's).
We've all got our boxes. Believe me, Debt Daddy's box would make your head spin in it's strange amalgam of outdated and often contradictory beliefs. Over the years, I've questioned many of those beliefs and values, leaving dents and sometimes complete holes punched in the walls of my box. The last real solid wall I had was the one entitled, "Thou shalt not borrow from thine 401k - to do so means financial ruin and a daily diet of cat food in your golden years". I stared at that wall for a long time and finally noticed the fine print at the bottom - "This wall manufactured by the banks and financial institutions that use your retirement contributions for decades and who are intent on scaring the bejesus out of you so that you NEVER consider taking away this free source of revenue."
A low growl emanates from deep in Debt Daddy's throat. "Damned banks". In a fit of rage, Debt Daddy charges at that filthy, misleading wall and hurls himself into it. The aged plaster and lathe shatters as he explodes through the wall of his now ramshackle box, landing in a heap on the outside. He finds himself on a vast white sand beach, illuminated by more stars than he thought it possible for the sky to hold. Breathless, he gasps for air and staggers to his feet. The air outside feels clean and fresh, not poisonous like "THEY" said it would be, and a pleasant change from the stale, odorous atmosphere of the box. The Box. An evil gleam flashes in Debt Daddy's eyes. "What this scene needs is a fire", he thinks to himself. Quick as a flash, before he can think twice, he yanks his Zippo from his pocket, rolls the starter across his jeans and tosses the now flaming object into the middle of the box. It ignites immediately, and he sits before the building blaze, chuckling to himself about the sage platitudes that covered its walls -
"A leased vehicle is the Best way to go!"
"What will people think??"
"Ya gotta buy up all the Lucent stock you can....and hold onto it!"
"What you need is a real job in a stable company - like Enron!"
Those and countless others turn to ember and ash, as the box collapses to the ground, it's flames dancing in the night wind. And, although he's sure it's not what the builders had in mind, as he sits before his burning box, now a massive bonfire on the beach, the ashes of preconception, misconception and deception gently floating into an endless night sky full of equally endless possibilities...
He feels Safe.
And Warm.
And Cozy.
We borrowed from our 401k account.
Okay, that's done it - the remainder of Dave Ramsey's hair just fell out in frustration over my blatant disregard for his rules. I know, I know - in Dave's world, borrowing from my 401k is almost as bad as sleeping with my sister, forcing her to have my baby and naming it Adolf Mussolini.
And yet, I'm just not seeing it that way.
I've had several major bills come in recently - between the life insurance, property tax installment and the dreaded, completely overpriced school tax, I was looking at payments totalling close to $12,000 - that's not even including all the regular monthly bills on top of that. Could I have worked day and night to make that money? Yes. Would I have made my nut? Hmmm....you might, rabbit, you might. Was borrowing from the 401k to take care of those payments the best choice? Maybe, maybe not - I am, after all, robbing my own retirement fund, taking from tomorrow to pay for today (and yesterday, and the day before, etc.). But (and here's the question that decided it for me), how much will you enjoy your tomorrows if you work so hard that you die today?
Today is all we have. Tomorrow is not ever guaranteed and, while we're on the subject, neither are the funds in a 401k or pension or any other retirement account - the value goes up, goes down, and sometimes disappears completely. However, the interest that your credit card company charges is always guaranteed - Visa isn't going to suddenly drop your interest rate from 22% to 3.9% because of volatility on the DOW exchange. So, while we have made good returns on the majority of our investments, and we'll miss those returns on a portion of funds for the time being, the fact remains that I'll have enough left over from this loan to pay off a few thousand dollars worth of credit card debt that's currently charging 18%. Meanwhile, I'm paying back that 401k money at an interest rate of 8.75 %, and that interest is being paid - to me. If I don't pay the loan off sooner, I will have, by the final payment, paid myself $3,783.20 in interest. Frankly, I'd much rather that I get that interest rather than Bank of America or Chase or Citibank or....you get my point. So, sorry Dave, I've been thinking outside the box again and, in my bizarre little mind, this just makes sense.
Thinking outside the box is not always easy. There are some pretty scary nasties on the outside of that box, which is why the box was built in the first place - to give us a comfort zone where we might feel safe and warm and cozy. The problem is, we don't have very much to do with the actual building of the box. Our parents, advertising and marketing companies, the government, teachers - they built our box - their values, mores and beliefs form the walls, floor and ceiling. I have a friend who, for the purposes of this entry and to protect her anonymity, I shall refer to as "Chamomile". Chamomile's parents lived through part of the Great Depression, and this of course has greatly colored her world view, especially in the case of financial matters. So much so that she will often say, "I am a child of the Depression". Now, unless the depression was still going on during the Kennedy Administration, that just ain't true. Doesn't matter; it's in her head - it's the mantra she heard, and the mantra she recites. She didn't build that box, but she's decorated it quite tastefully in the style of the times (which would be the late 1920's).
We've all got our boxes. Believe me, Debt Daddy's box would make your head spin in it's strange amalgam of outdated and often contradictory beliefs. Over the years, I've questioned many of those beliefs and values, leaving dents and sometimes complete holes punched in the walls of my box. The last real solid wall I had was the one entitled, "Thou shalt not borrow from thine 401k - to do so means financial ruin and a daily diet of cat food in your golden years". I stared at that wall for a long time and finally noticed the fine print at the bottom - "This wall manufactured by the banks and financial institutions that use your retirement contributions for decades and who are intent on scaring the bejesus out of you so that you NEVER consider taking away this free source of revenue."
A low growl emanates from deep in Debt Daddy's throat. "Damned banks". In a fit of rage, Debt Daddy charges at that filthy, misleading wall and hurls himself into it. The aged plaster and lathe shatters as he explodes through the wall of his now ramshackle box, landing in a heap on the outside. He finds himself on a vast white sand beach, illuminated by more stars than he thought it possible for the sky to hold. Breathless, he gasps for air and staggers to his feet. The air outside feels clean and fresh, not poisonous like "THEY" said it would be, and a pleasant change from the stale, odorous atmosphere of the box. The Box. An evil gleam flashes in Debt Daddy's eyes. "What this scene needs is a fire", he thinks to himself. Quick as a flash, before he can think twice, he yanks his Zippo from his pocket, rolls the starter across his jeans and tosses the now flaming object into the middle of the box. It ignites immediately, and he sits before the building blaze, chuckling to himself about the sage platitudes that covered its walls -
"A leased vehicle is the Best way to go!"
"What will people think??"
"Ya gotta buy up all the Lucent stock you can....and hold onto it!"
"What you need is a real job in a stable company - like Enron!"
Those and countless others turn to ember and ash, as the box collapses to the ground, it's flames dancing in the night wind. And, although he's sure it's not what the builders had in mind, as he sits before his burning box, now a massive bonfire on the beach, the ashes of preconception, misconception and deception gently floating into an endless night sky full of equally endless possibilities...
He feels Safe.
And Warm.
And Cozy.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Thank You, Dr. House
And so it would seem that the final correct diagnosis of my medical mystery would come, not from the cadre of medical professionals gathered to examine me and overcharge my insurance company, but instead from Hugh Laurie and the talented script writers of the tv show, "House".
We had never seen the show before, but seeing as there was nothing else on that evening that we felt like watching, I said half-joking, "Let's see if this guy knows what's wrong with me!". Imagine my surprise when, a mere fifteen minutes into the episode, he mentioned "costochondritis". I ran to the internet on the next commercial break and, sure enough, the description of the condition matched up perfectly with my mis-named malady, Quico.
The good news is that it's a muscular condition so, as the numerous tests and scans will attest, all the major organs are pretty much off the table as potential suspects. The bad news is...well, that it's a muscular condition. Pretty much the number one treatment for costochondritis is - REST. (Debt Daddy stifles a derisive giggling fit as the irony of "rest" becoming a four letter word in his vocabulary hits home.) After the whole "deck debacle" that brought about this condition in the first place (think about that - working on their deck put me in the hospital, and then they criticize my work and refuse to pay me the balance - this is the living cliche of "adding insult to injury") I'm going to have to work harder than ever to make up for lost wages...while resting? Hmmm....'tis a conundrum wrapped in a riddle lounging on a LayZBoy, isn't it?
More later.
We had never seen the show before, but seeing as there was nothing else on that evening that we felt like watching, I said half-joking, "Let's see if this guy knows what's wrong with me!". Imagine my surprise when, a mere fifteen minutes into the episode, he mentioned "costochondritis". I ran to the internet on the next commercial break and, sure enough, the description of the condition matched up perfectly with my mis-named malady, Quico.
The good news is that it's a muscular condition so, as the numerous tests and scans will attest, all the major organs are pretty much off the table as potential suspects. The bad news is...well, that it's a muscular condition. Pretty much the number one treatment for costochondritis is - REST. (Debt Daddy stifles a derisive giggling fit as the irony of "rest" becoming a four letter word in his vocabulary hits home.) After the whole "deck debacle" that brought about this condition in the first place (think about that - working on their deck put me in the hospital, and then they criticize my work and refuse to pay me the balance - this is the living cliche of "adding insult to injury") I'm going to have to work harder than ever to make up for lost wages...while resting? Hmmm....'tis a conundrum wrapped in a riddle lounging on a LayZBoy, isn't it?
More later.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
And so it goes...
So, you remember the deck I was working on? The thing of beauty that had been driving me crazy for weeks? Well, I finished it a few days ago, and stopped by today to pick up the balance for the project. I had explained to them beforehand that, due to unforseen additional repairs, the cost would be about $1,000 more than we had originally discussed. They said they were okay with that and told me to come on by to get my grand.
Yeah well, they're not happy.
The wife can't seem to wrap her brain around the fact that, when new problems come up, the old estimate doesn't always apply. Seems simple enough -if you take your car to the shop to get new tires and, in the process of doing that, they find that your brake pads are shot and you need new ones - well then, that's gonna cost More, isn't it? She doesn't get that. So, instead of understanding the logic behind the new price, she's nitpicking about every little thing, including things that I've already explained to her twice before and including things that weren't exactly in the original job description. Any little thing to justify the fact that they really don't want to pay the extra money and that the estimate should be the exact cost of the job - no ifs, ands or buts.
Well, I stayed there for about an hour and tried to fix the things that they had issue with. But the longer I stayed there, the worse I started to feel. I had felt very proud of this deck. I had even taken pictures of it and was planning on posting them here. I take my work personally - it's a part of me - a reflection of who I am. But I've seen this before, and I realized that, no matter what I did, they weren't going to be happy. My beautiful deck was their overpriced piece of shit. And nothing I could do, short of rebuilding the railings and stairs for free, was going to change that opinion. I was nothing more than an opportunist to them - a fly by night scam artist that was trying to sell them a $5,000 piece of crap.
So I left. I did my best, and my best sucked. The more I think about it, the worse I feel. It's not even the money at this point - they can keep their damned money. It's the fact that I busted my ass on this job, but they couldn't see all the good work; all they could see were the minute flaws. No matter what was said, the look in this woman's eyes said, "You failed us and now you're trying to rob us as well".
I don't need that. It hurts. Do I take my job too personally? Yeah, I suppose I do. Maybe I should do what other contractors do - over estimate the job by 50%, overcharge for all my supplies, do the bare minimum to get paid and not give a flying doughnut about what anyone thinks. Problem is, I've been on the other side, and I've hated it when contractors have done that to me, so I try to do better - to be better than that. Fat lot of good that's done me.
Times like this, I just want to chuck the whole business - times like this I just want to crawl into a deep hole someplace. I feel like a complete and utter disappointment - to these clients, to my family (whom I am supposed to provide for), to myself - to everyone.
Unfortunately, crawling into a hole is not an option. Gotta keep going - gotta keep paying the bills, keep working through the continuous pain in my gut, keep breathing in and out, keep one step ahead of just about Everything.
And so it goes...
Yeah well, they're not happy.
The wife can't seem to wrap her brain around the fact that, when new problems come up, the old estimate doesn't always apply. Seems simple enough -if you take your car to the shop to get new tires and, in the process of doing that, they find that your brake pads are shot and you need new ones - well then, that's gonna cost More, isn't it? She doesn't get that. So, instead of understanding the logic behind the new price, she's nitpicking about every little thing, including things that I've already explained to her twice before and including things that weren't exactly in the original job description. Any little thing to justify the fact that they really don't want to pay the extra money and that the estimate should be the exact cost of the job - no ifs, ands or buts.
Well, I stayed there for about an hour and tried to fix the things that they had issue with. But the longer I stayed there, the worse I started to feel. I had felt very proud of this deck. I had even taken pictures of it and was planning on posting them here. I take my work personally - it's a part of me - a reflection of who I am. But I've seen this before, and I realized that, no matter what I did, they weren't going to be happy. My beautiful deck was their overpriced piece of shit. And nothing I could do, short of rebuilding the railings and stairs for free, was going to change that opinion. I was nothing more than an opportunist to them - a fly by night scam artist that was trying to sell them a $5,000 piece of crap.
So I left. I did my best, and my best sucked. The more I think about it, the worse I feel. It's not even the money at this point - they can keep their damned money. It's the fact that I busted my ass on this job, but they couldn't see all the good work; all they could see were the minute flaws. No matter what was said, the look in this woman's eyes said, "You failed us and now you're trying to rob us as well".
I don't need that. It hurts. Do I take my job too personally? Yeah, I suppose I do. Maybe I should do what other contractors do - over estimate the job by 50%, overcharge for all my supplies, do the bare minimum to get paid and not give a flying doughnut about what anyone thinks. Problem is, I've been on the other side, and I've hated it when contractors have done that to me, so I try to do better - to be better than that. Fat lot of good that's done me.
Times like this, I just want to chuck the whole business - times like this I just want to crawl into a deep hole someplace. I feel like a complete and utter disappointment - to these clients, to my family (whom I am supposed to provide for), to myself - to everyone.
Unfortunately, crawling into a hole is not an option. Gotta keep going - gotta keep paying the bills, keep working through the continuous pain in my gut, keep breathing in and out, keep one step ahead of just about Everything.
And so it goes...
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