Death By Foreclosure

An unfolding story on the local news last night about a man who has shot an animal control officer when he and another cop came to enforce eviction.  Made me wonder how many foreclosures have turned violent.  Answer: plenty.

St. Ann

Los Angeles, Tennessee, Ohio, Florida.

Modesto, CA.


More suicide hotlines are being flooded with calls by people who are desperate about losing their homes.  No wonder.  These people need help: loan forgiveness or a more sane payment plan.  How about good old human compassion?  Not in the land of unrestrained capitalism.

Instead, billionares are fighting to keep their tax breaks.  And we've just had the most expensive Presidential campaign ever.

Way to go, America.

Awkward Moments in Dining

I've signed up for a 30 day web based coaching class that begins in January, and I'm perusing web sites connected to that one.  My discovery this morning was a blog on money and frugality (which I'm all about - frugality, that is), here.  The article tackles that oh-so-awkward situation in restaurant dining where the overwhelming sentiment at the table is to split the check equally.

Now that I am on a greatly reduced and fixed income, I have to parse my expenditures carefully.  I rarely eat out, and when I do, I am back to the stage first adopted in my twenties to choose from the lower-priced menu items.  It's a must if I want the pleasure of dining out.  And I've discovered that I am usually pleased with my menu selection, and no, I don't need the $10 glass of wine.  Unless you're paying, of course - heh.

My first very awkward moment in dining was 30 years ago, out with friends to celebrate someones birthday.  My then-husband and I were among a group of just six.  A nice restaurant featuring Creole cooking.  Our hosts, a couple familiar with the restaurant, took charge of ordering for the table.  The table.  Yes, you read that right.  Champagne, abundant appetizers, a selection of dishes that were varied so we could all 'taste.'  Then the after dinner drinks and dessert.  I forget what the bill was, but it was to be split so the birthday boy's dinner was his present.  My husband handled the transaction and I notice he was becoming pale and ill-tempered.  As we strolled to our car I found out why.  The bill was astronomical.  For us, anyway.  We were eating with high-rollers, people who dropped hundreds of dollars at a meal without a care.  That was the last time we ate with those folks.  It ruined the whole affair; for chrissakes I remember it thirty years later.

In the intervening 30 years, as my income rose, I treated myself and friends to high-priced meals out.  I became insensitive to the cost -- it was a gastronomical adventure to be indulged in and enjoyed.  So I understand that side of the story as well.  I do think I kept in mind that some of my dinner companions were making far less money than I, and I hope (and like to think) I adjusted dining choices appropriately.

Here I am decades later: retired and separated from my wife, with a new self-induced income restricted life.  Recently, once again, I experienced extreme sticker shock when I treated a couple of friends to a meal out.  These are good friends, and generous in many ways, and I wanted to reciprocate. 

We were at a nice restaurant.  I was there to enjoy and to treat my friends, but my pesky nervous anxiety began as one cocktail turned into two which needed to be accompanied by nibbles.  A lovely meal followed, really, but it was lavish and beyond my means.  Urp.  Pass the antacids, please.  I have got to come up with a strategy for this kind of thing.  My guests were enjoying themselves, and I did not want to screw that up with the realities of my economic limitations.  But.  Won't do that again without some parameters.  I think just being straightforward is the key here.  Something like, "I'd love to take you to dinner.  My treat for a change.  Let's choose a restaurant in my price range -- if you can handle it!  Or we could have cocktails and d'oeuvres out, and dinner at home.  Whaddya say?"

So, uh, awkward, when all you want to do is sup on a fine meal with friends.  Sheesh.