Wassuppppp?????
I know - I ain't been around these parts in a long spell. Apologies for my absence; as most of you know, this working like a dog to support the credit card companies can take up a whole heckuvalot of your time, and after busting your ass for "THE MAN" for however many hours a day (and since I'm self employed, I guess that makes me "THE MAN" which would account for my bouts of self loathing - I can't help it - I just think my boss is a big weenie, y'know?), sometimes you just don't feel up to blogging. Sometimes the idea of trying to formulate coherent thought is simply too daunting. Sometimes you just wanna watch "Chuck" instead.
But I'm here now, so let's just move on from this point with some Updates!!
Update #1: I Grow, I Prosper
I got this e-mail from Prosper.com last week -
Prosper Filing Registration Statement; Enters Quiet Period
Prosper has started a process to register, with the appropriate securities authorities, promissory notes that may be offered and sold to lenders through our site in the future. Until we complete the registration process, we will not accept new lender registrations or allow new commitments from existing lenders. If you're an existing lender, your current lender agreements will be unaffected; your existing loans will continue to be serviced; you'll be able to track and monitor your loans; and you'll be able to withdraw funds from your Prosper account. If you're a borrower with an existing loan, you will continue with your current borrower agreement and be unaffected by the registration process. If you're a borrower seeking a loan, you will still be able to create a new loan listing, which we will endeavor to fulfill through alternative sources. As the appropriate securities authorities may consider a new loan listing to constitute the offer of a security, we are unable to post new loan listings on our site until our registration statement becomes effective. A successful registration can take several months, but we assure you we will do our best to move forward as quickly as possible. Until this process is complete, we're required to be in a quiet period and will be unable to respond to press, blogger or other inquiries about Prosper or the registration filing until it becomes effective. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, and want to thank you in advance for your understanding and support.
They also asked affiliates to temporarily remove any advertisements regarding Prosper from their blogs, so you won't see that ad on this site for a while. Here's hoping they get all their business wrapped up soon - Prosper's been very good to me, and I definitely want to do more investing with them.
Update #2: The Citi Never Sleeps (yeah, and neither do brain sucking zombies)
So, the other day I get a notice in the mail from Citibank (or CitiCorp or CitiGroup or whatever their frigging CitiCalling their CitiSelves this CitiDay). Anyway, the notice says that soon, they will be raising their interest rate on purchases from wherever yours might happen to be now (ours is at 6.5%) to 24.99%. Why? Just 'cause. But wait! There's another option! If you don't want your interest rate to quadruple!, you can "opt out". I wondered what opting out would entail, and called the CitiNumber to get some CitiAnswers. The CitiChick that I spoke with explained that, if you opt out, your interest rate will not increase; it will stay where it is. However, when your card expires, the account will be automatically closed. Being the suspicious DebtDaddy that I am, I said, "Ah, and then when the account closes, the balance is due in full, right? Right?" Wrong. After the card expires, you continue to make monthly payments as you normally would until the account is paid in full. So, in a nutshell; if you opt out, your interest rate doesn't go up, your account is closed which, if you're a Dave Ramseyite, you know is a good thing, and there's no other penalty. Of course, there are two caveats - the first is that most people's interest rates are variable rates that fluctuate with prime, so the rate could change - but last I checked, prime ain't going no where but down. The second thing is that your FICO score might get a little screwy at some point, since if the account is closed and you still owe money on it, then the amount of credit card debt you have might outweigh the amount of credit you have available to you, which doesn't get you high marks with FICO. But again, search Dave Ramsey's site for references to FICO, and you'll find that he doesn't really care much about that. He himself has a terrible FICO score, because that score is based on credit usage, which is a habit that the good Mr. Ramsey has kicked.
So, if you've got a CitiCard, you might want to call your own CitiChick or CitiDude and opt out yourself. Tell 'em Debt Daddy sent you. ;)
Update # 3: DebtDaddy Version 44.0
I'm old....er. Yes, reader - Debt Daddy turned 44 yesterday. The good news is I don't look a day over 50. The bad news is that I didn't get nearly enough people wishing me a happy birthday, so how about posting me some well wishes in the comments section? Or you could just send money - money works too. ;)
Thanks.
Showing posts with label Dave Ramsey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dave Ramsey. Show all posts
Friday, December 5, 2008
Monday, December 24, 2007
Murphy, you old So and So
If you know Dave Ramsey, you know he talks about Murphy (of the highly acclaimed Murphy's Law - "whatever can go wrong, will go wrong") and how Murphy will take up residence in your spare bedroom at the first real signs of financial progress. Well, cocky old Debt Daddy was beginning to think he was immune to Murphy's advances - that things were moving ahead so well it would be very difficult for Murph and his stinkin' law to put the brakes on. Silly Debt Daddy.
First it was the tires on my wife's van which at first glance looked fine, but upon closer inspection revealed themselves to be nearly as balding as old Debt Daddy hisself. And when do you have that "closer inspection"? Why, during a snow storm, of course! During our first real bit of snow up here my wife, try as she might, was just not able to make it all the way home from work. We live high on a hill and she was only able to make it about 2/3rds of the way up before she had to call the game due to lack of traction. As I saw her walking up the remainder of the way, I grabbed my shovel, gloves, salt and over-inflated male ego and trudged down the hill toward where she had left our stranded vehicle, grumbling to myself about what I had to assume was a certain link between estrogen and an inability to drive in slippery conditions. I would move that van, dammit. Armed with testosterone, I could not fail.
Forty five minutes later, I had moved the van - all the way across the street and ten feet further down the hill from where my wife had gotten it in the first place. It was then that I examined the tires and realized that my wife had to be a pretty spectacular driver just to make it as far as she did. I walked back up the hill, tail between my legs (there was plenty of room for a tail there, as all traces of the aforementioned testosterone had vanished or were hiding in shame) and apologized to my wife, promising to get new tires for her ride.
The tires priced out pretty well, and looked like they might only be a small hiccup in our financial plan. But of course, once the tires were off, you could see that the brakes were shot. Once the brakes were off, you could see how one of the struts was leaking. What started out as a hiccup grew into financial projectile vomiting by the time I was done there, and I returned home feeling safer on the road, but just a little financially violated.
A few days later, I was recovered and ready to face my bills again, when my wife called me to tell me about our new indoor water feature. Now, I like indoor water features. I think they're a lot of fun - soothing, feng shui-ish fountains and water walls bring out Debt Daddy's inner metrosexual, calming his troubled brain. My wife quickly brought me out of my Carradine like state of zen when she informed me that, instead of a gentle trickling of H2O over acrylic stone, what we had was a washing machine drain pipe that was backing up and sending water quickly in the wrong direction - i.e. all over the floor. Plumbers were called, and Rooter Men were recommended. Rooter Men came and plumbers were recommended. Turns out the pipe, which was thought to be clogged, was instead eaten away by the slab foundation in which it was seated. A brand new drainpipe had to be installed and other sundry plumbing issues were addressed. By the time everything was done, I think I paid for my plumbers entire Christmas shopping. Ah, the price we pay for proper drainage.
So, my wife and I have agreed - she got me new tires, brakes and struts for Christmas, and I got her a new drainpipe and the use of her washing machine back (not as romantic as the whole comb, watch fob, Magi thing I know, but it works for us). And, in a continued spirit of giving, we're giving Murphy the shaft. He trashed my guestroom, so I'm kicking him to the curb (do the kids still say that? I'm so out of touch). Let him party like a rock star in someone elses house.
First it was the tires on my wife's van which at first glance looked fine, but upon closer inspection revealed themselves to be nearly as balding as old Debt Daddy hisself. And when do you have that "closer inspection"? Why, during a snow storm, of course! During our first real bit of snow up here my wife, try as she might, was just not able to make it all the way home from work. We live high on a hill and she was only able to make it about 2/3rds of the way up before she had to call the game due to lack of traction. As I saw her walking up the remainder of the way, I grabbed my shovel, gloves, salt and over-inflated male ego and trudged down the hill toward where she had left our stranded vehicle, grumbling to myself about what I had to assume was a certain link between estrogen and an inability to drive in slippery conditions. I would move that van, dammit. Armed with testosterone, I could not fail.
Forty five minutes later, I had moved the van - all the way across the street and ten feet further down the hill from where my wife had gotten it in the first place. It was then that I examined the tires and realized that my wife had to be a pretty spectacular driver just to make it as far as she did. I walked back up the hill, tail between my legs (there was plenty of room for a tail there, as all traces of the aforementioned testosterone had vanished or were hiding in shame) and apologized to my wife, promising to get new tires for her ride.
The tires priced out pretty well, and looked like they might only be a small hiccup in our financial plan. But of course, once the tires were off, you could see that the brakes were shot. Once the brakes were off, you could see how one of the struts was leaking. What started out as a hiccup grew into financial projectile vomiting by the time I was done there, and I returned home feeling safer on the road, but just a little financially violated.
A few days later, I was recovered and ready to face my bills again, when my wife called me to tell me about our new indoor water feature. Now, I like indoor water features. I think they're a lot of fun - soothing, feng shui-ish fountains and water walls bring out Debt Daddy's inner metrosexual, calming his troubled brain. My wife quickly brought me out of my Carradine like state of zen when she informed me that, instead of a gentle trickling of H2O over acrylic stone, what we had was a washing machine drain pipe that was backing up and sending water quickly in the wrong direction - i.e. all over the floor. Plumbers were called, and Rooter Men were recommended. Rooter Men came and plumbers were recommended. Turns out the pipe, which was thought to be clogged, was instead eaten away by the slab foundation in which it was seated. A brand new drainpipe had to be installed and other sundry plumbing issues were addressed. By the time everything was done, I think I paid for my plumbers entire Christmas shopping. Ah, the price we pay for proper drainage.
So, my wife and I have agreed - she got me new tires, brakes and struts for Christmas, and I got her a new drainpipe and the use of her washing machine back (not as romantic as the whole comb, watch fob, Magi thing I know, but it works for us). And, in a continued spirit of giving, we're giving Murphy the shaft. He trashed my guestroom, so I'm kicking him to the curb (do the kids still say that? I'm so out of touch). Let him party like a rock star in someone elses house.
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.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Debt Daddy - A Rant in Three Octaves
I wanna talk about a few things today - actually, I wanna talk about a lot of things today, but my thought patterns are completely haywire due to a pretty hard work week that has left most of my body feeling incredibly sore and tired. It's hard to think in rational, linear terms when you're sore and tired, so please bear with me if this post is a bit...frenetic (and by frenetic, I mean like the typing equivalent of Tourette's syndrome).
Speaking of Tourette's syndrome, what's up with John McCain lately? First he sings, "Bomb, bomb, bomb - bomb, bomb Iran" (to the tune of the beach boys song, "Barbara Ann") and later says he didn't mean to say that. Then, after the whole General Petraeus hooplah, he says that "MoveOn.org and it's members should leave the country" and the next day says that he didn't mean to say that. Dude, I'm not trying to be political or anything, but say what you mean and mean what you say - The First Time. And, for what it's worth, I had a lot more respect for you when you spoke your own mind and not Bush's. Weenie.
Anyway...so I got a call from the Natural Resources Defense Council the other night. If you're not familiar, they're a group that tries to save natural resources from developers, oil companies, etc. The lady on the phone is telling me all about how Shell Oil is trying to drill somewhere that they shouldn't (big news flash) and how the NRDC is getting ready to take them to court and how it sure would help them out if I made a contribution. Well, I think I threw her off her script because I said, "Do you really think that's gonna help?" She said, "I'm sorry?" I said (and I'm quoting to the best of my recollection), "Do you really think that taking them to court is going to help anything? You file a suit against them, they drag it out so you use up all your money, then the Bush Administration makes the whole case go away and gives the oil company another tax credit for their trouble. Taking them to court won't help. The only thing that will help is to stop using oil. I drive a Prius. I use CF ligthbulbs wherever I can. I heat and air condition my house only when absolutely necessary. I do whatever I can to use as little oil and gas as possible. I do this first and foremost to save money, but I also do it to save lives. The money that we pay for oil goes largely to Saudi Arabia, who in turn funds terrorism. I don't want to be a part of that - I feel no need to help the oil companies, or to help Saudi Arabia, and I certainly don't want to do anything that would possibly help the proliferation of terrorism. So, while I can't contribute to your cause today, please know that I'm doing what I can to stop the oil companies in my own way."
She didn't know what to say, and simply ended by thanking me for my time. While I do respect what this group and others like it try to accomplish, I stand behind what I said to her. In a country like the US, where everyone is so incredibly concerned about terrorists, why are we still such oil junkies? Can anyone explain to me why there aren't solar panels on every federal, state and local government facility in the US? Why our cafe standards are so abysmal? Why we seem so hellbent on financing the very people that are trying to kill us? It makes me sick, and I'm tired of it. And if any friend of mine comes back from Iraq missing and arm or a leg just so some whack-a-mole could fill up his Hummer, I'm gonna be pissed.
By the way, as I mentioned, I do drive a Prius. I bought it new, which I know is a definite Dave Ramsey no-no, but let me say this about that - Consumer Reports recently reported that the Prius is one of a handful of cars that can conceivably be driven for 200,000 miles before needing to purchase a new car. I average 8,000 miles a year, which means it's possible that I can drive this car for 25 years. So, rather than buy 5 to 8 "Hoopdiemobiles" over the course of that time, I'll stick with my good old hybrid, which is currently averaging 46 MPG (that's in the suburbs - 50 MPG highway, 60 MPG city). Put that in your hookah and smoke it, Saudi Arabia.
Oh, a short side note on all of that - I'm teaching my kids about conserving energy and other resources. I'm explaining that, when you don't let the water run, or turn off the lights when you leave a room, or only drive places when you have to, that it helps the entire planet. We've developed an easy slogan (borrowed with creative license from the tv series "Heroes") - I start the thought, and they finish it -
I say, "Save electricity?"
They say, "Save the World."
"Save water?"
"Save the World."
"Save Gas?"
"Save the World!"
Cool, huh?
Okay, I'm done for now. Thanks for letting my wander through my topic-less blather. Once I've put this current job to bed and my aches and pains subside, I'll be back on track.
Speaking of Tourette's syndrome, what's up with John McCain lately? First he sings, "Bomb, bomb, bomb - bomb, bomb Iran" (to the tune of the beach boys song, "Barbara Ann") and later says he didn't mean to say that. Then, after the whole General Petraeus hooplah, he says that "MoveOn.org and it's members should leave the country" and the next day says that he didn't mean to say that. Dude, I'm not trying to be political or anything, but say what you mean and mean what you say - The First Time. And, for what it's worth, I had a lot more respect for you when you spoke your own mind and not Bush's. Weenie.
Anyway...so I got a call from the Natural Resources Defense Council the other night. If you're not familiar, they're a group that tries to save natural resources from developers, oil companies, etc. The lady on the phone is telling me all about how Shell Oil is trying to drill somewhere that they shouldn't (big news flash) and how the NRDC is getting ready to take them to court and how it sure would help them out if I made a contribution. Well, I think I threw her off her script because I said, "Do you really think that's gonna help?" She said, "I'm sorry?" I said (and I'm quoting to the best of my recollection), "Do you really think that taking them to court is going to help anything? You file a suit against them, they drag it out so you use up all your money, then the Bush Administration makes the whole case go away and gives the oil company another tax credit for their trouble. Taking them to court won't help. The only thing that will help is to stop using oil. I drive a Prius. I use CF ligthbulbs wherever I can. I heat and air condition my house only when absolutely necessary. I do whatever I can to use as little oil and gas as possible. I do this first and foremost to save money, but I also do it to save lives. The money that we pay for oil goes largely to Saudi Arabia, who in turn funds terrorism. I don't want to be a part of that - I feel no need to help the oil companies, or to help Saudi Arabia, and I certainly don't want to do anything that would possibly help the proliferation of terrorism. So, while I can't contribute to your cause today, please know that I'm doing what I can to stop the oil companies in my own way."
She didn't know what to say, and simply ended by thanking me for my time. While I do respect what this group and others like it try to accomplish, I stand behind what I said to her. In a country like the US, where everyone is so incredibly concerned about terrorists, why are we still such oil junkies? Can anyone explain to me why there aren't solar panels on every federal, state and local government facility in the US? Why our cafe standards are so abysmal? Why we seem so hellbent on financing the very people that are trying to kill us? It makes me sick, and I'm tired of it. And if any friend of mine comes back from Iraq missing and arm or a leg just so some whack-a-mole could fill up his Hummer, I'm gonna be pissed.
By the way, as I mentioned, I do drive a Prius. I bought it new, which I know is a definite Dave Ramsey no-no, but let me say this about that - Consumer Reports recently reported that the Prius is one of a handful of cars that can conceivably be driven for 200,000 miles before needing to purchase a new car. I average 8,000 miles a year, which means it's possible that I can drive this car for 25 years. So, rather than buy 5 to 8 "Hoopdiemobiles" over the course of that time, I'll stick with my good old hybrid, which is currently averaging 46 MPG (that's in the suburbs - 50 MPG highway, 60 MPG city). Put that in your hookah and smoke it, Saudi Arabia.
Oh, a short side note on all of that - I'm teaching my kids about conserving energy and other resources. I'm explaining that, when you don't let the water run, or turn off the lights when you leave a room, or only drive places when you have to, that it helps the entire planet. We've developed an easy slogan (borrowed with creative license from the tv series "Heroes") - I start the thought, and they finish it -
I say, "Save electricity?"
They say, "Save the World."
"Save water?"
"Save the World."
"Save Gas?"
"Save the World!"
Cool, huh?
Okay, I'm done for now. Thanks for letting my wander through my topic-less blather. Once I've put this current job to bed and my aches and pains subside, I'll be back on track.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Debt Daddy initiates contact with the Blog People
Hey. I’m Debt Daddy. I actually think I qualify as King of Debt, but there’s someone else with that name already and I’m not about stepping on toes. Yet…I’ve seen his debt numbers, and I’ve gotta say he’s like the Duke of Debt next to me and my big old hairy beast of burden. Wait, I’m looking again….make that Squire of debt.
Believe me, if you saw my debt figures, you would proclaim me undisputed King in a heartbeat (I’m not going to share my numbers at this juncture - after all, we’ve only just met), but that’s really not the point, is it? I’m not here to be the biggest or the baddest (or the Stupidest, I guess, for having so much darned debt) - what I am here for is to figure a way out of it and I’m guessing that you are too if you’re reading this (then again, maybe you’re here because you find Dads in debt incredibly sexy, and who am I to disagree with you? A guy with kids, crushing debt…what’s not to love? Hell, just make me morbidly obese and driving a ‘78 Nova and I’d be nearly perfect.)
So, if you’re in debt too, what’s working for you? To get out I mean - heck, I know a million ways to get INTO debt! I don’t need help with that! Geez. Wait. Sorry…before I ask you what’s working, let me just clue you in on the things that I refuse to do to get out of debt:
Debt Consolidation
Debt Counseling
Selling my primary residence (unless you have a lovely free house that you’re not currently using, perhaps on the beach?)
Selling my car
Aside from that, I’m pretty open. I’ve stopped using the credit cards (I have many, and they’ve all been misbehaving terribly lately, so I’ve locked them in a small, dark place until they can learn some freaking respect) and I’m trying to maximize income while minimizing unnecessary expenses. I’ve become my father when it comes to turning out lights around the house, we don’t eat out, we get videos from the library instead of Netflix, I’ve tried to minimize the frequency and length of my showers (I know - you’re hot for me all over again, aren’t you - I just keep getting sexier and sexier, don’t I?) - in short, I’m funnelling every available cent to the credit cards and yet, it seems to be making only the smallest of dents in my debt reduction.
So, I’m trying to think outside the box. Finding Dave Ramsey was a Godsend, but I need more. Debt snowball - cool. Debt Snow Plow is what I hope to find.
Anyone know where i can find a plow? Let me know.
Believe me, if you saw my debt figures, you would proclaim me undisputed King in a heartbeat (I’m not going to share my numbers at this juncture - after all, we’ve only just met), but that’s really not the point, is it? I’m not here to be the biggest or the baddest (or the Stupidest, I guess, for having so much darned debt) - what I am here for is to figure a way out of it and I’m guessing that you are too if you’re reading this (then again, maybe you’re here because you find Dads in debt incredibly sexy, and who am I to disagree with you? A guy with kids, crushing debt…what’s not to love? Hell, just make me morbidly obese and driving a ‘78 Nova and I’d be nearly perfect.)
So, if you’re in debt too, what’s working for you? To get out I mean - heck, I know a million ways to get INTO debt! I don’t need help with that! Geez. Wait. Sorry…before I ask you what’s working, let me just clue you in on the things that I refuse to do to get out of debt:
Debt Consolidation
Debt Counseling
Selling my primary residence (unless you have a lovely free house that you’re not currently using, perhaps on the beach?)
Selling my car
Aside from that, I’m pretty open. I’ve stopped using the credit cards (I have many, and they’ve all been misbehaving terribly lately, so I’ve locked them in a small, dark place until they can learn some freaking respect) and I’m trying to maximize income while minimizing unnecessary expenses. I’ve become my father when it comes to turning out lights around the house, we don’t eat out, we get videos from the library instead of Netflix, I’ve tried to minimize the frequency and length of my showers (I know - you’re hot for me all over again, aren’t you - I just keep getting sexier and sexier, don’t I?) - in short, I’m funnelling every available cent to the credit cards and yet, it seems to be making only the smallest of dents in my debt reduction.
So, I’m trying to think outside the box. Finding Dave Ramsey was a Godsend, but I need more. Debt snowball - cool. Debt Snow Plow is what I hope to find.
Anyone know where i can find a plow? Let me know.
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