Anyway, I opened a new Bank Account last week with Bank of America, and at the same time applied for a credit card.
The application for the credit card was rejected immediately, and this is the letter that followed a few days later:
Some people ask me why I share so much personal information, such as this, with the whole world.
I do it because I think it might help better minds than mine to analyze a complex system I guess.
For you see, after the under or unemployment after Law School over a number of years, it becomes hard to meet all the other bills and financial obligations that a person has.
Car Payments are late. Health Insurance premiums for a self-pay plan are steep, and take priority over other pressing bills.
The credit score becomes affected, and so, gradually, the credit score goes into a downward spiral.
It definitely affects ones mental well being and moods; different people in different ways I suppose. And in my case, it stressed the Marriage.
And so now, as you continue to apply for "Professional" work, legal or non-legal, you are handicapped by a poor credit score, because prospective employers do check the credit score.
The genesis of the whole rootin' tootin' shootin' match related above was the Student Debt of course, combined with the Un or Under employment. Not to mention several years of lost income while in school.
The Student Debt could be from Law School, or it could be Student Debt from Grad School in general, or even College.
But once more: Take heed of all that follows in the wake of the debt.
I need a new or at least a better used work truck, and I cannot get a car loan.
I also need a small business loan, but I cannot get that either.
And then of course all hopes of a normal Marriage with a wife and a mortgage are pretty slim by now.
Tonight, I walked my dog around the town and local ball field, and I saw all the couples and families milling about, and I felt so outcast. So out of touch.
Are they happy? I wondered.
I could have been one of those middle aged Union guys in a tank top with tattoos all up and down my arms, with a house of my own, and a late model car, a Harley in the Garage and a boat on a trailer in the driveway, an above ground pool in the backyard, and two swivel and reclining barco loungers (with built in drink holders) in the living room now walking around Long Island with a wife and kid in tow buying an ice cream on a summer night, and window shopping etc etc. That is, if I had not pursued a higher Ed.
And my old lady, with a broad scrollwork patterned tattoo across her lower back, and with the image of Betty Boop tattooed on the outside of her left ankle, would Love me with all the Love that her little tattooed heart could muster, for the handsome breadwinner, and winner in general, that I am.
And she would call me Johnny, and I would hang out with all my buddies, such as Nickey, Louie, Joey, and Stevie, on a Saturday night together, and my little missus and all the other wives would get together too and the kids would all play.
Sigh, and it all sounds Wonderful, and like Happiness. And I'm dead serious. I think.
In my life, I have always had the true misfortune to get mixed up with very high strung or highly educated or at least priveleged girls that I was always trying to impress, or prove something to, and it has been the bane of my existence.
Oh well. I missed the boat, and the smoke is fading over the horizon, and well nigh gone.
_______________________________________________
Somehow I don't think my Scottish Lass will approve of the following Poem ;)
The Yachts
contend in a sea which the land partly encloses
shielding them from the too-heavy blows
of an ungoverned ocean which when it chooses
tortures the biggest hulls, the best man knows
to pit against its beatings, and sinks them pitilessly.
Mothlike in mists, scintillant in the minute
brilliance of cloudless days, with broad bellying sails
they glide to the wind tossing green water
from their sharp prows while over them the crew crawls
ant-like, solicitously grooming them, releasing,
making fast as they turn, lean far over and having
caught the wind again, side by side, head for the mark.
In a well guarded arena of open water surrounded by
lesser and greater crafts which, sycophant, lumbering
and flittering follow them, they appear youthful, rare
as the light of a happy eye, live with the grace
of all that in the mind is fleckless, free and
naturally to be desired. Now the sea which holds them
is moody, lapping their glossy sides, as of feeling
for some slightest flaw but fails completely.
Today no race. Then the wind comes again. The yachts
move, jockeying for a start, the signal is set and they
are off. Now the waves strike at them but they are too
well made, the slip through, though they take in canvas.
Arms with hands grasping seek to clutch at the prows
Bodies thrown recklessly in the way are cut aside.
It is a sea of faces about them in agony, in despair
until the horror of the race dawns staggering the mind;
the whole sea become an entanglement of watery bodies
lost to the world bearing what they can not hold. Broken,
beaten, desolate, reaching from the dead to be taken up
they cry out, failing, failing! their cries rising
in waves still as the skillful yachts pass over.
William Carlos Williams
_________________________________________
And This is "Banjo Cheer" for me Scottish Lass, Ann Coulter.
I have the pipe because I figure that I will project a Fatherly
and scholarly image, thereby making her fall hopelessly in Love with me.
It's worth a try.
Added: July 28, 2011: Good News! I'm going to make my health Insurance premium for the month today, under the wire (Phew!) But I need to keep it up as I am asthmatic, and don't want to end up with an attack someday or in the middle of the Fucking night with no fucking Health Insurance. Being around cats can do it, or a lot of wood dust from certain kinds of hardwoods (the resin in certain African or South American hardwoods, such as mahogany, contain a chemical that, when released as dust can trigger asthma. Also if I take anything with asparin in it, such as alka seltzer, I get a wild hay fever and asthma attack and my Dr. said I could go into shock). Dogs don't really do it, unless it is the kind of dog that sheda a lot. Also, being in a pet store can do it, or very cold air in the winter.
Ah...they say to wear a mask when working, but the fucking dust gets all over the fucking clothes anyway. It gets all over the fucking place.But I still wear the mask.
I have seen some painters over the years that smoke heavily, and also do not wear masks and just do not care.
I ain't no TV set or newspaper BTW, and I'm just telling you the way it is.
Gotta go.
