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...
Friday, September 28, 2007
Debt Daddy's take on Prosper
I just got off the phone with my bank. Now, I know you can't see me, but take a guess - am I smiling?
The smart money would bet on "no". It used to be that you could call your local financial institution with a problem or issue and they would do what they could to help you. If they couldn't help you, they might offer some advice on alternative options. In any case, they appreciated you as a customer and placed some value on their relationship with you.
Yeah...and you used to get a free toaster when you opened an account too.
Those days are over. The banks have decided that they have absolutely no reason to help us, so they don't. There's just no profit in it. It seems like, at every turn, financial institutions are trying to make it harder and harder for the average person to get by. You can only get a loan if you don't need the money. The check you deposit takes a week to show up in your account, while the checks you write are withdrawn from your accont almost as soon as you're done writing them. Fees abound, interest rates bounce, and if you read the fine print, you'll find that most banks tell you right up front that they can and will change the rules whenever they feel like it.
Kinda feels like playing poker with The Sopranos, if you ask me. And I've gotta ask myself, "Why am I still sitting at this table? Surely there's gotta be a better game in town?"
Turns out, there is. If you're looking to borrow money, or if you're in a position to loan money and make a very decent return, read on.
Not too long ago, I came across Prosper.com. Prosper is a company that makes it possible for people like you and me to lend money to people like you and me. No Banks. No Credit Institutions. No Sub Prime Mortgage Companies. Just People. Lending to and borrowing from other people. Some of these folks come here because, for whatever reason, their credit scores and ratings are not quite up to snuff, and the banks won't talk to them. Others come here because, although they have excellent credit ratings, they'd rather not go to a conventional bank for their loan. Either way, Prosper has put together quite an operation. They are thorough, organized - and it seems like it's really working.
I have to admit, I was impressed with the vetting process that Prosper makes applicants go through. In that regard, they are very much like a bank - credit checks are run, debt to income ratios are reported, their credit ratings and any other pertinent information are published so that potential lenders know exactly who they're lending to and what the potential risk might be. But unlike a bank, Prosper doesn't automatically say no if you don't fit into the perfect box of what a "good borrower" should be.
Is there risk? Sure. I'm currently funding a portion of a loan to a woman with an F credit rating. Is there a chance she might default on the loan? Absolutely. Is there a chance that the stock market might hiccup and my 401k account would suddenly devalue itself by 20%? Absolutely. Every investment has risk. The good news is that I've only loaned her $50 of the $4,000 loan she was approved for. Other Prosper members loaned that same amount or better til the loan was fully funded. The loan is being repaid over three years at an interest rate of 22%. Now, this woman has a chance to turn her financial life around. She wasn't about to get that chance with a typical bank. No way in Hell.
That's the appeal for me, I guess. You get to help people that really need help, and you get to stick it to the banks at the same time. They don't get the interest - you do. The banks get nothing but a cold shoulder and a door slammed in their face for a change - and that thought makes me giddy every time I think about it.
If you have even the slightest interest or curiousity, click my link on the left hand side of this page. And how's this for instant reward - if you click through my link, join Prosper and fund a loan, you and I both get $25.00. So, for lending someone $50, you automatically get a 50% return on investment.
Helping others.
Screwing the banks.
Instant return.
Money well spent.
The smart money would bet on "no". It used to be that you could call your local financial institution with a problem or issue and they would do what they could to help you. If they couldn't help you, they might offer some advice on alternative options. In any case, they appreciated you as a customer and placed some value on their relationship with you.
Yeah...and you used to get a free toaster when you opened an account too.
Those days are over. The banks have decided that they have absolutely no reason to help us, so they don't. There's just no profit in it. It seems like, at every turn, financial institutions are trying to make it harder and harder for the average person to get by. You can only get a loan if you don't need the money. The check you deposit takes a week to show up in your account, while the checks you write are withdrawn from your accont almost as soon as you're done writing them. Fees abound, interest rates bounce, and if you read the fine print, you'll find that most banks tell you right up front that they can and will change the rules whenever they feel like it.
Kinda feels like playing poker with The Sopranos, if you ask me. And I've gotta ask myself, "Why am I still sitting at this table? Surely there's gotta be a better game in town?"
Turns out, there is. If you're looking to borrow money, or if you're in a position to loan money and make a very decent return, read on.
Not too long ago, I came across Prosper.com. Prosper is a company that makes it possible for people like you and me to lend money to people like you and me. No Banks. No Credit Institutions. No Sub Prime Mortgage Companies. Just People. Lending to and borrowing from other people. Some of these folks come here because, for whatever reason, their credit scores and ratings are not quite up to snuff, and the banks won't talk to them. Others come here because, although they have excellent credit ratings, they'd rather not go to a conventional bank for their loan. Either way, Prosper has put together quite an operation. They are thorough, organized - and it seems like it's really working.
I have to admit, I was impressed with the vetting process that Prosper makes applicants go through. In that regard, they are very much like a bank - credit checks are run, debt to income ratios are reported, their credit ratings and any other pertinent information are published so that potential lenders know exactly who they're lending to and what the potential risk might be. But unlike a bank, Prosper doesn't automatically say no if you don't fit into the perfect box of what a "good borrower" should be.
Is there risk? Sure. I'm currently funding a portion of a loan to a woman with an F credit rating. Is there a chance she might default on the loan? Absolutely. Is there a chance that the stock market might hiccup and my 401k account would suddenly devalue itself by 20%? Absolutely. Every investment has risk. The good news is that I've only loaned her $50 of the $4,000 loan she was approved for. Other Prosper members loaned that same amount or better til the loan was fully funded. The loan is being repaid over three years at an interest rate of 22%. Now, this woman has a chance to turn her financial life around. She wasn't about to get that chance with a typical bank. No way in Hell.
That's the appeal for me, I guess. You get to help people that really need help, and you get to stick it to the banks at the same time. They don't get the interest - you do. The banks get nothing but a cold shoulder and a door slammed in their face for a change - and that thought makes me giddy every time I think about it.
If you have even the slightest interest or curiousity, click my link on the left hand side of this page. And how's this for instant reward - if you click through my link, join Prosper and fund a loan, you and I both get $25.00. So, for lending someone $50, you automatically get a 50% return on investment.
Helping others.
Screwing the banks.
Instant return.
Money well spent.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Game Called on Account of Pain
When life gives you lemons...sometimes it's only a prelude to the rotten tomatoes that life has just hurled at your head - DUCK!
So, it's another Saturday, and I'm working again. I'm replacing a Big deck around a Big swimming pool - and not a rectangular pool, mind you - a 12 sided pool, and the boards from each side have to miter up perfectly with the boards from the next side, so the deck makes just the prettiest "frame" around the pool. It will be a thing of beauty when it's completed, but at the moment, it's a huge pain in the butt. I underestimated how long the job would take and now I'm hurrying to get it done - and it's just not a job you can hurry - -
Wow, I just read this back and realized what you might be thinking - "and in my rush to get the boards cut I didn't realize that I had inadvertantly put my right leg on the table saw. As I turned on the lethal machine, the roar of it's angry engine and the ringing of blade shredding muscle and bone combined with my own horriffic screams in a twisted three part harmony strangely remniscent of Sweeney Todd as I watched my dreams of being a RiverDancer wash away in a stream of blood and sawdust. The horror.....the horror".
So, it's another Saturday, and I'm working again. I'm replacing a Big deck around a Big swimming pool - and not a rectangular pool, mind you - a 12 sided pool, and the boards from each side have to miter up perfectly with the boards from the next side, so the deck makes just the prettiest "frame" around the pool. It will be a thing of beauty when it's completed, but at the moment, it's a huge pain in the butt. I underestimated how long the job would take and now I'm hurrying to get it done - and it's just not a job you can hurry - -
Wow, I just read this back and realized what you might be thinking - "and in my rush to get the boards cut I didn't realize that I had inadvertantly put my right leg on the table saw. As I turned on the lethal machine, the roar of it's angry engine and the ringing of blade shredding muscle and bone combined with my own horriffic screams in a twisted three part harmony strangely remniscent of Sweeney Todd as I watched my dreams of being a RiverDancer wash away in a stream of blood and sawdust. The horror.....the horror".
Yeah...that didn't happen. Although it's a helluva lot more exciting than what did happen - maybe I should turn to fiction - give those big time writers a run for their money (did you hear that? Stephen King was literally quaking in his boots - listen again......there! You must have heard it that time!)
So anyway, what did happen was, in the midst of my work, I was struck by a strange, quite uncomfortable abdominal pain on my right side. It seemed the more I worked, the worse it got. Luckily, it began to rain and I had a good excuse to go home early, which I did. By the time I got home and into bed, the pain had spread across my entire abdominal region, most of my chest and up into my shoulders and back. I found the least uncomfortable position in which to lie down, and slept on and off for the next 20 hours.
I woke up on Sunday feeling almost 100% better, and was about to commence my celebratory "I'm Feeling Better Happy Dance" (don't look at me that way - you know you do it too) , when the pain returned, this time on the left side, and started to climb upward once more. Since the preceding night had been...well...Excrutiating, I decided to see if I could avoid another full blown episode and drove myself over to the Emergency Room. Above the entrance to the ER is a sign that says RapidCare, and it made my smile a bit - "Thats what I'm looking for, all right - RapidCare! Treat me and Street me! Git 'er Done!!" I'm surprised I could fit through the door, being that full of naivety and blind hope.
Long story short, RapidCare ain't so Rapid. They kept me overnight in the Cardiac Care Unit. Now, I knew perfectly well that the problem wasn't with my heart, and I think they knew it too, but anytime there's chest pain involved they keep you in cardiac care until they're absolutely sure that you won't have a heart attack as you leave the hospital. It's actually quite a symbiotic relationship - by caring about your heart, they're covering their ass. When they did actually release me on Monday, they still didn't have a clue what was wrong with me, I was still in pain, but my heart had been checked out eight ways to Sunday, so we certainly knew that it wasn't that.
So that was Monday. Still in pain, albeit less, on Tuesday - I work for as long as I can, then go to see my regular doc. He's not sure what it could be either, but let's get a CT scan of the colon, just for giggles. The scanning facility can see me Thursday which works out great, as Wednesday the pain has returned as bad as it was that first Saturday and I don't even want to move. Thursday comes, I get my CT scan done, then rush off to work. I get to the job and realize that I'm actually feeling much better. About half way through the workday I can hear the theme song for the aforementioned "I'm Feeling Better Happy Dance" playing in the disco of my mind and, when no one is looking, I shake my butt in time with the tune. "It must have been a virus", I think to myself. "Ooooh, and a nasty one, too - but I stood strong, and I beat it! Yeah, that's right, ya danged virus! Who bad? We Bad! I am Strong! I am Invincible! I am Debt Daddeeeeeeee!!!!!"
Ow. Sudden pain in my head. Must've been singing to myself too loudly. Oh, well - it'll pass.
Well, it didn't pass. The pain in my head got progressively worse as this vile disease (which I have now decided to name "Quico" - loosely translated as a devil with no name) decided it would be fun to sprinkle shards of glass all around my eye sockets. I finished work for the day and attended two back to school nights, all the while trying to ignore the jackhammer that Quico was plunging into my brain. Finally went to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.
That brings us to today. I woke up this morning to the sounds of Quico triggering a controlled demolition in my cerebral cortex. As I write this, I have exquisite pain in my head and eyes; dull, throbbing pain in my left shoulder and beneath the lower right portion of ribcage, and a bit of fair to middlin' burning pain in my upper back.
Frankly, I'm bored with it. Or more to the point, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. It's like that line from the movie "City Slickers" - "if you're gonna kill me, than kill me - otherwise, shut up!"
It's been nearly a week, Quico. Time to put up or shut up. I'm worth half a mil in a pine box, so if that's where we're going with this, let's just hurry up and get there. Otherwise, Back Off.
I've got work to do.
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.
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