Free and Clear by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 4
When I get up the next morning I check my e-mail to find that I have committed a minor felony in having paid off my mortgage. A branch of the federal government known as the Department of Personal Responsibility (DPR) has e-mailed me that to not have a mortgage is detrimental to the interests of all salt of the earth, up-the-kazoo-indebted Americans. It promises a visit from someone who could explain the problem in further detail and perform corrective action.
Apparently my desire to be out of debt is viewed as a self-centered assault on the public well-being. While I am flattered at my previously overlooked importance, I am also annoyed that what I have been taught is now anathema to the government.
Chagrined to be considered so unpatriotic, while endeavoring to be a free American reminiscent of Patrick Henry, I am confused. I’m also pissed. In my naiveté I thought loans were made to be paid back. In actuality loans must be made to be increased, in direct proportion with the growth and soundness of the borrowing entity; emphasis on the former. To do otherwise is contractionary. No retreat seems to be allowed. Gung ho or walk the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Federal government functionaries don’t think that they have covered their tracks sufficiently well, in
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having created a perennial depression. They want company in the blame.
No sooner do I make my coffee and bring a cup to the kitchen table than I her “Taps”. When we had this “bell”
installed we found it an amusing conversation piece. We didn’t realize that it would prove to be so appropriate. I look through the transom and see a glum man dressed in a beige suit with a light blue shirt open to the neck. I open the door and say;
“Don’t tell me you’re moving in. There’s no more room.”
He silently stares.
“Never mind. Sick joke. I just got up.”
His well-lined, sad face, with no inflection, ominously half questions; “You weren’t informed?”
For some reason, perhaps recent events, I feel silly and think of a number of responses which would amuse me. Instead, I say; “No one ever tells me anything. I have a big mouth.”
“You should have received our e-mail.”
I realize that this is probably the person the Department of Personal Responsibility said they were sending. I’m also annoyed that he just didn’t say this in a straightforward manner. I say; “DPR?”
He retrieves a card from his shirt pocket and flashes it at me. I can see that it has a picture surrounded by words. He puts it back and says; “DPR. Mr. Michaels?”
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I nod.
He says; “Kevin Schultz; my friends call me Schultzy. May I come in?”
“Why not? This has become an open house.”
He says nothing and impassively stares at me as I lead him to the kitchen. I feel the laser on the back of my neck. We sit and I say; “The government has just chosen us to house a homeless family,” as a possible explanation of my last remark. I really don’t want to piss him off. .............. Yet.
“The government?”
“Yeah.”
“Which branch?”
“I’m not sure. Federal, I think.”
“Never heard of the program. They’re living here now?”
“Yeah, a mother and her son.”
“You really ought to check this out. It could be a scam.”
“Check it with who?”
“The branch of the government which authorized it.”
“Division of Youth and Family Services.”
“That’s local. Not fed.”
“HUD. No one takes full responsibility.”
“I see that I have some investigating to do.”
I get up and say; “Can I get you a cup, Schultzy?”
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“I told you that that word is reserved for friends. And no, we are not allowed to take any gratuities.”
I sit. Mr. Schultz takes a number of folded papers from his suit pocket, puts on a pair of wide rimmed black glasses and reads to me; “It has been determined that the extinguishment of a mortgage is detrimental to the United States economy. .......”
Out of curiosity I cut him off and say; “Determined by who?”
He looks at his watch and continues reading; “We have been made aware that you recently extinguished yours.” He looks at me and I shrug. He again reads; “It is the mission of the Department of Personal Responsibility, hereinafter referred to as the DPR, to make United States citizens aware of the effects of aforesaid extinguishment and to pursue corrective action.
.......”
I can’t resist saying; “You want to keep the fire burning.”
I get another stare, this one with what I construe as probable animosity showing, through the thick glass lenses which cover his unblinking beady eyes.
To correct his apparent misinterpretation of my previous remark and in a poor effort to appear not-too-obviously obsequious, I say; “I think that’s commendable. In modern times too often we seek to douse the flames of passion and settle into a peaceful, yet boring and tedious nothingness, under the
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presumption that there are no solutions which do not create another problem, strongly implying that we are better off enduring the problem at hand, rather than run the risk of incurring an even greater problem if we attempt corrective action. As a proponent of your philosophy, take the work of
.........”
Mr. Schultz broke away from the contemplation of his wristwatch to interrupt me, saying; “It’s getting late in the day. May I continue?” Though he phrased it as a question, it didn’t sound like one. I’m sorry not to have gathered his outlook on one of the great issues of our time, especially since it sounded as if he and his agency might be espousing a contrarian outlook. But, feeling that I have lost the flow, I merely say; “Please do.”
Schultzy continued; “American citizens are generally unaware that it is the debt of this nation, both publicly, privately and in the ever growing middle region, which makes the world go round. To say that is not perfunctory hyperbole. It has been unequivocally determined by the work of Dr. Carl Benson that there is a direct and causative relationship between the aggregate US debt level and economic growth, both domestically and internationally. Recognition of this fact was first gleaned by the pioneering, seat-of-the-pants-intuitive Reagan-Volcker team, which in 1980, rescued the American population from going
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the way of stagnating Western Europe. While this view is not yet commonly held by the domestic citizenry, or the world masses, it is undeniably considered statistically factual to the best economic minds. Now that you, Mr. .........”
Schultzy comes to an abrupt halt, retrieves another paper from his myriad of pockets and says; “Mr. Michaels; understand the detrimental consequences of your unconscious selfish decision to economically injure all others. We here at the DPR
are certain that you’ll be willing and anxious to correct your actions.”
Hoping to testify to the uselessness of and thereby counter the perceived intellectual conceit of the commentary, I say; “I don’t give a shit.”
Mr. Schultz makes no discernable reaction. His well-protected eyes remain as tired as they had been since his arrival. He demonstrates his ability to work on alternating levels when he retrieves yet another set of documents from his pocket, this time the one nearest his crotch, and drones; “We are aware that you hold certain government licenses. According to our records you earn all your income from being a federally licensed Hologram Facilitator. You hold a State of New Jersey driver’s license which allows you to get to your appointments.
Your co-obligor is employed by the State of New Jersey. Need I say more?”
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Realizing it irrelevant, but not wanting to capitulate after only one shot, no matter how good it was, I try to buy time by babbling like a diplomat. I say; “I was a Hologram Facilitator before it required a license. The licensing only came about because that funny man and free spirit, Nathan Soverall, an early purveyor of un-regulated fantasy, made a realistic hologram of President Takitall. You will recall how he fooled White House flunkies into calling for a press conference; during which the Takitall hologram announced that America would repudiate all federal debt. It was later to be discovered that this was done after a whopping short sale of US Government T-Bills and Treasuries was executed by the facilitator, my hero, the wily Nathan Soverall. And a driver’s license is given to everyone who hasn’t committed vehicular manslaughter, and even a few who did. My co-obligor has seniority and was rated 2.0 on her last review.” I sarcastically smile for a second, and then go stone faced.
Mr. Schultz doesn’t smile, and maintains his incessant facial paralysis. He says; “Nonetheless, Mr. Michaels, there are volumes of rules and regulations underlying every government permit, approval, license and job. The fact that the authorities are too understaffed to enforce each and every one is not to deny their existence. We are somewhat easy going with our friends. Those who are un-cooperative receive thorough scrutiny.
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Did you know that in the State of New Jersey a severe head injury is due cause to revoke a driver’s license?” He focuses his eyes over the top of his glasses on my still lumpy head and black eyes. “What happened to your head?” he asks as I think I see the first intimation of his face not being frozen.
I get extremely nervous, but try not to convey the feeling by affecting my own paralytic display. Hardly moving my mouth I say; “As I told my wife, ...... excuse me; co-obligor, our mortgage was not a re-usable line of credit. I can’t very well tell the bank to give me my money back and re-book the loan.”
“I’m here to help. The DPR has been authorized Special Agent under Fannie Mae’s new loan program. The fact that you have been able to pay off one mortgage in its entirety is considered proof of your credit-worthiness. Right now I can give you a new 30 year loan at 2.25%, APR 11.67%”
“11.67 is ridiculous.”
“It’s just a number some anti-bank freaks concocted years ago. It doesn’t mean anything. 2.25% is the number on the note.
And since you’re such a responsible debtor, I can probably get you more than the house is worth.” Mr. Schultz winked at me, though it resembled more of a reaction to a migraine. He retrieved a note and pen from his back pants pocket and pushed the items toward me.
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Panic time. I need a while to consider my lack of good options. Finding the location of another option, good or not, is more to the point. I say; “I’d like to discuss this with my co-obligor and she’s still asleep. She hasn’t been feeling well since the homeless duo moved in.” I stand up and offer my right hand, which Mr. Schultz ignores. I ask; “Do you work on commission?”
He finally stands and wearily says; “You haven’t had a tax audit in more than a decade. Hologram Facilitators have a difficult time in establishing the legitimacy of their expenses.
Most people write off their computer and software as if there were no personal usage.” He shakes his head in a “tsk-tsk”
fashion.
I try to lead him to the door and have success, though he moves as if his legs were as palsied as his face. Fearful of some unknown immediate retribution, I say; “I’m sure this will be done. It’s just a matter of allowing my co-obligor to have some input. You know how they are ever since they’ve been liberated. ............. You married?”
“No.” .............. As he ambles out the front door, Mr.
Schultz said; “We recommend the purchase of treasuries; short to medium term. We also think it a good idea to buy SUV’s and Freeloader motor homes with dealer financing.”
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He opens the door of his recent model, cream SUV and I say;
“I’ll need your card; a number to reach you.”
Schultz says; “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be in touch with you; very soon.” He closes the door and races a beetle down the driveway, apparently winning in a photo finish; but I’m not going to bet on it.
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