One year ago today: December 22, 2016, a spirited post, indeed.
Five years ago today: December 22, 2012, I still have that grinder.
Nine years ago today: December 22, 2008, a generic day.
Random years ago today: December 22, 2006, bicycle parking ticket.
Let’s start my day off over at the coffee shop. I drove into north Bartow to find a place open, in this case my least favorite Dunkin. But hey, these towns close up five days either side of Xmas. This gives the family plenty of time to really aggravate each other. I worked all five puzzles, that’s considered excitement around here. I won’t mention the date I had two days ago because nothing happened. Well, that’s my viewpoint. Any guy in my position will tell you beware of women whose only ambition in life is become a mother. We drove way out to Winter Haven and still my new car got recognized. Ah, small towns.
Who recalls the first “repo” house JZ and I looked at in Arcadia in the summer of ’14? That’s where the guy first tried to misdirect us to the house next door, then marched around with a paper saying it was all taken care of. I think I finally found out what he meant—I mean pardon me to hell I don’t know much about mortgage law or that entire sordid industry. The party I’m helping showed me the contents of his mailbox. Dozens of offers from realtors to pay off his mortgage to grab that equity. And I can see some people going for that just to spite the lenders.
As far as I’m concerned the lenders and these bottom-feeders are in cahoots. Got that? C-a-h-o-o-t-s. I may not have a mortgage but what I do have is the ability to calculate them to the nth decimal point. What I did was cherry pick the ones offering a no-cost appraisal and calculate backwards what they are planning. It’s simple, if the house has a defaulted $40k mortgage and the value is $80k, they swoop in and buy the mortgage by offering the owner say, $10k walking money. So I’ll soften a little bit and say that these operators are sometimes the best deal that can be had—but only if it is planned and understood in advance. I’m saying that it probably never is.
Later toward noon, I created a random act of kindness, which earns me the rest of the day off double. I forgave an obligatory payment because of Xmas. Then off to the library, where once again I could not find any source of interesting material that isn’t shallower than what I already know. I got myself a great cup of library coffee and in a rare activity, I simply surfed. God must like one-dimensional people. I was so bored I posted on Craigslist. It’s fun to see whose goat can be gotten.
So I posted this theory that the Bible doesn’t say there were three wise men. It only says they brought three gifts. I expressed bewilderment at what a baby would want with Frankincense and myrrh (I just typed those words without the spellchecker, so you’ll know.) So anyway, I proposed the theory that one of these wise men, however many there were, was also a douche. And that explains the origin of that disgusting expression that it’s the thought that counts.
Winner, most beautiful hair.
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No return call from the guitar player. He said that might happen. Friday or not, should I go out. There is that band breaking up with their final gig at the Pour House, a pub on the outskirts of Auburndale. Or is it Winter Haven? On the old highway. See, I’m gradually learning that area. Should I go see them because one of the guitarists plays excellent rhythm but can’t sing. I forget the name of the band. I had asked the guy, if he’s the one I’m thinking of, around six months ago if he’d considered striking out with a smaller group. He said no, but this is why you follow up every lead. A band with three guitars and a vocalist (no drums or bass) is not making any money, not even meeting expenses.
What I’ll do is stop here. If I go out, there’ll be your report, good or bad. If I don’t, make this the shortest post of the year.
I went out to the pub. I chose one with a five-piece band. It was the 1960s model, drums, bass, rhythm, lead, and keyboards. A band this size causes the individual instruments to wash out. This group had it bad, it sounded like they were playing the same song all the time. I hung around and listened for two sets because they reminded me of how not to form a band. Five house-husbands with fresh haircuts reliving their youth right down to the choice of material. They quickly ran out of their best material and started playing their own versions. Myself, I don’t think Folsom Prison Blues is improved by adding a piano.
Last, one weird-ass development. Think back to that Motion to Dismiss I filed for my pal back last month. All I did was help out because the guy was being dicked around by a foreclosure mill. Well, be damned. A letter arrived from Tallahassee stating something is wrong with how the bad guys filed their case. Whatever this is, it came directly from the office of the Attorney General, and the Attorney General doesn’t even know people like us are alive. Time to get young Trent on the blower and get this thing figured out. I don’t know the lady but I recognized her name from the newspaper, and she did done sign that letter.
You deserve more details than I originally wrote, but it wasn’t such a big deal at the time. At least not for me. What you have is a last minute action to dismiss a case pleading that the bad guys filed while the good guy thought they were negotiating in good faith toward a solution. It’s called dual-tracking and I may have correctly guessed it was outlawed in Florida. Now comes this letter which seems to say the court will not allow the case even to be tried. I think. Should that be the case, it could quickly wind up costing the bad guys more money than the property is worth. Think about that for a second. It would be the equivalent of winning.
However, no dancing yet. I warned the guy that these legal documents can often mean the opposite of what they read. He still thinks I know what I'm doing.
Last Laugh
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