35 days remain until my house is to be foreclosed upon. Last Tuesday, one day before my house was to be liquidated at a public auction sale, I received yet another postponement of foreclosure from my lender. It is now set to take place on January 4th, 2010. I’m on my third or fourth rain check from Bank of America and things are-- OMG! I’ve lost count of how many times this foreclosure has been postponed. WTF?! This whole TTYL by Bank of America could go on 4ever. IMHO, foreclosure makes a person type as though they’re either on a limited text message budget or limited vocabulary. In my case it is both. The fact I had to Google most of those texting acronyms solves part of the mystery as to why I’m uncool. My social ineptitude fills out the rest of the equation. I can’t figure out what the lender is up to and would consider calling in Jesse Ventura’s Conspiracy Theory but it looks like the Feds are about to handle the case. The foreclosure crisis has once again caught the eye and ire of the Obama administration over the past few days. In a recent New York Times article Michael S. Barr, U.S. Treasury assistant secretary for financial institutions is quoted as saying,
“The banks are not doing a good enough job. Some of the firms ought to be embarrassed, and they will be.”
Mr. Barr, I tried this tactic once (the operative word being “once”). It does not work. I was in the 5th grade and in an effort to put the schoolyard bully in his rightful place by poking fun at his bell-bottoms I found his fist buried up my right nostril. The embarrassment henceforth was all mine because a light blue shirt does not go well with red bloodstains. Like the schoolyard bully banks are embarrassment-proof. Extravagant executive compensations and bonuses in the midst of government bailouts and a struggling economy attest to this recently overlooked fact by Mr. Barr. The embarrassment will be all the U.S. Treasury Department’s if a little bad publicity is their best weapon against bad behavior. I know this because I promptly reconsidered bell-bottoms as fashion forward attire once my nose stopped bleeding all over the monkey bars.Another article in The New York Times breeds hope that the government has clued in on the fact that banks, like most corporate entities, care only about their balance sheets as it states,
Under the guidelines, the government will fine lenders that fail to find ways to increase the number of homeowners who are given relief on their mortgage bills.
“Hit ‘em wear it hurts, U.S. Gov!” I shout with enthusiasm upon reading this latest development. Like many, I have a morbid curiosity to watch a good fight (especially ones between members of the opposite sex) so I click over to the financialstability.gov website to get a better seat. The guideline lists the following as one of the steps they're taking to fix this mortgage modification mess:
- Developing operational metrics to hold servicers accountable for their performance, which will soon be reported publicly;
This fight sucks. I want my money back. “Developing operational metrics”?! What the hell is that? Geez, I was hoping to read something that involved air strikes or combat troops. This bureaucratic tough talk is as useful as fending off a grizzly bear with a roll of Mentos. The best you can hope for is fresh breath on the bear’s part as he crams you into his gaping mouth for a mid-afternoon snack. The biggest gun the government brought to this fight is this from the guidelines:
- Servicers failing to meet performance obligations under the Servicer Participation Agreement will be subject to consequences which could include monetary penalties and sanctions.
This fight still sucks and it’s getting worse. The “monetary penalties and sanctions” bit reminds me of the stupid curse jars middle management functionaries set up in their offices to curb the use of foul language. This approach rarely if ever succeeds as a deterrent. I know because I once worked in such an office. Employees (myself included) will continue dropping the f-bomb with impunity because dropping a dollar into the jar just isn’t painful to the pocketbook and could be viewed as an investment… in lunch when the boss empties the jar to purchase pizzas for the entire office. Of course, the unemployed are exempt from this charade and not invited to the aforementioned pizza party. They’re also not invited to the government’s sillily titled party called the Mortgage Modification Conversion Drive because a steady and appropriately sized paycheck is required to qualify.
There’s little point in wading through the guidelines so I’ll sum up what the U.S. Department of the Treasury and Department of Housing and Urban Development means to say to the banks: “If you don’t behave yourself we’re going to-- to-- uh… do something and you won’t like it. We’re not sure exactly what that something is but-- but-- you won’t like it.” I’d like to suggest the government take these fines paid by the banks and set up a fund for the unemployed facing foreclosure but, despite my inherent inability to recognize a dumb Pollyannaish idea, I think this is one. Those fines are already earmarked for the next round of bank bailouts and probably a few tax breaks as the banking lobbyists seem to have their hands wrapped firmly around Washington’s throat. I’ve got a much simpler use for the punitive funds generated from misbehaving lenders: Give me the money – all of it – so I can hire Wolfgang Puck to cater a lavish pizza party for my cat and a few friends. I’ll put a big sign on the door next to the foreclosure notice that reads, “UNEMPLOYED NOT ALLOWED. Must present 6 months of consistent paystubs upon entry.” As a sometimes-employed freelancer I just barred myself entry to my own pizza party. Crap.


Salon.com
Comments
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I just found out the house one door down is in foreclosure, for sale literally for HALF the last sale amount. Twice the size of mine, twice the lot size (or more) . I got mine at a fire sale price (at the time) but I'm still getting scared.
Plus the lovely "RIF" (reduction in force) going on at work is keeping me awake at night.
Let me know which bridge you end up under. I'll bring the cheetos and you and tomreed can bring the beer. It'll be a slumber party every night.