Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Pesky Junk Mail

Assumptions seem to be made about me. Top four: I love to go out shopping, I'm deaf, I'm crooked, and I'm stupid. I draw these conclusions from the plethora of junk mail I'm flooded with. One tip to you guys: keep the paper recyclable, please. That's where it ends up.

Take the assumptions in order.

1: I haven't "loved" to go out shopping since even before my knees made it exquisitely painful. Had I ever been wealthy, I may have reconsidered that preference, but I simply don't see the point in much of what's pushed my way... not even now that I can walk through Wal Mart without breaking out into a sweat.

2: I'm a long ways from being deaf. Now my generation may have, in the main, spent as much money and time as they could blowing their ears out with rock and roll. I didn't even care for the Beatles. At twelve I discovered both Beethovan and Peter, Paul and Mary. No rock, no heavy metal, and still good ears, thank you very much.  Save a stamp.

3: While I do have one major credit card which maintains a higher balance than I'll admit to you, I resent all the offers to take advantage of a little piece of law that allows me to ditch all my financial obligations over $10 grand. I'm working it down, fellas, not working my way out of it. Even if I thought it were an honest way to erase debt, I appreciate my credit rating. I may need it again someday.

4: Speaking of, my credit rating must be fairly good, as I keep getting offers again to apply for new credit cards. Today's one opened, in huge letters, to the promise of cutting my interest rates in half. Obviously they have no idea what I'm paying now, since their offer is four times my current rate, not half! They must believe people in a retirement community address, maybe even particularly women "because we can't do math", are stupid enough to fail to read past the big promise to the actual details. Think again.

There's a new kind of junk mail that's just starting to come my way. I figure it'll rise towards the top of my list soon, at the rate it's coming in. I'm selling my Minnesota house on a contract for dead. Wouldn't I just love to have the money now so I can spend it all at once? Hey idiots: yes, you I'm talking to. First of all, I'm selling it to my son. It's an agreement we both can live with. No passing it on to a second party who'll pass in on to a third, etc., until somebody changes the terms, raises the interest rate, defaults him after one slow payment, or whatever. There are a couple sweetheart clauses in that contract that raised our attorney's eyebrows, and which I know nobody taking on the CD would honor. Plus, I like being the bank. It gives me a steady income over a number of years that keeps my standard of living livable, and will total out to more than that one cash payment.

So go suck an egg.

All of you.

Perhaps one that's been sitting in the manure pile for several months.

With a crack in its shell.

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