Payback Time - The Doggone Loan is Mine

Me and Carla not in the Schoolyard

Around a hundred years ago I returned from living in a rural area of Australia to my hometown - the City of Melbourne.

I'd been living in the sticks, bringing up my children. During this time I'd been completely out of contact with other grown-ups - being married to the-man-who-didn't-believe-in-telephones (see previous postings).

I wanted to phone my old friend Carla. But I didn't have her number. I DID have her husband's number at his place of work however. Rob (the husband) was a pharmacist and so I phoned the pharmacy. We chatted a bit and then he gave me the home number saying, "I know Carla will be home; the dishwasher broke so she's waiting there for the repair man. He was meant to come first thing in the morning but he's not there yet. She's in a BAD mood."

What came over me? I know full well what it's like to be waiting home for a repairman from a large company. But all humanity left me when I phoned Carla who had not heard a peep from me for over ten years.

"Hello," I said when she answered, realizing she was unlikely to recognize my voice after so long a period. "Is this Mrs Strongarm?" "Yes," she answered.

"This is the dishwasher company," I replied. "I am calling to inform you that we no longer service your model. You will need to throw it out and buy another one."

Dead silence. I panicked. Had she had a heart attack? Become catatonic?

"Carla, it's me. Kate!" I yelled.

"Bitch!" she replied.

Well said.

In the long run, life is fair. I have to tell you dear Carla - today was payback time for yours truly.

Today I decided to see how much I could borrow to finance a rental property (see A Room with a View).

First I called Wells Fargo. I'd had my first mortgage in America there and it was all paid out. Impeccable references. The loan was mine.

I was on hold for a hundred years and then I got a "Jason". I should have known. I have written about customer service reps called Jason before. BUT - they used to exist only in Australia. O my god - are they spreading, multiplying?

However Jason turned out to be OK. He told me I had gotten through to the wrong department and that he'd put me through to the right one. After a few centuries I was put on to an "Andy". Maybe it was because I misheard and thought his name was "Randy" and kept calling him that - but whatever - Andy-Randy insisted on getting ALL my details and then told me, "Wrong department." There ensued a number of other wrong departments till I got Paul. Paul was a real man. And human as well. He cut the bullsh*t and told me it didn't matter how much I owned, earned, where I wanted to buy - I could only borrow $480,000 or 68% of the property value. Wells Fargo policy on investment properties.

Not what I wanted but at least he was honest and didn't say I was at the wrong department.

Next stop ING. I have a few accounts with ING. I didn't really expect they'd have different lending policies than Wells Fargo, but better to be sure, so I called.

I was on hold for a few decades when a "Peter" came on the line. "Hello I am Peter and I am happy to help you," blah blah...

So I explained that I wanted to borrow money to purchase an investment property in New York.

Pause and then.

"Oh so you want to borrow money to buy a rental property and you want to borrow from ING," said Peter.

"Noooo," I drawled, "I have called ING because I want to borrow from the toilet."

He hung up.

I'm not meant to be a landlord.

As MJ said, "I think I told you, I'm a lover not a fighter."

And I'm sorry Carla!

A Room with a View

My father says that there is only one perfect view, that of the sky over our heads.

George Emerson in E. M. Forster's "A Room with a View"

The sky WASN'T overhead but you could sure to see a lot of it.

My friend (C) and I stared straight ahead. We were standing in a bare living-room. Nothing obstructed our vision.

We were looking at a front-on view of the east side of Manhattan from a room in the apartment building aptly named "The View".

Imagine getting up in the morning and seeing that view!

It helped that it was a sunny almost-spring day. But still. It WAS spectacular.

T. S. Cornerstone - a family-owned real estate firm - has apparently bought up the only waterfront acres in Long Island City, New York, which is just across the East River from mid-town Manhattan.

They are developing a complex of apartment buildings, parks, sporting grounds, entertainment areas, and a pre-school on those acres and C and I were being given a guided tour.

I was looking to buy an investment property.

But not that one. Though I'd like to. I think.

We were looking at one of the apartments that looks directly over the river. Its terrace along was about the size of my living room in Manhattan.

But it was a bit above my price range ...

However there ARE other apartments in the building with views and balconies. Just not as good. City views aren't 275 degrees and balconies (although of reasonable size) are balconies rather than terraces.

The "owners" of the development have an interesting concept and I wonder if it'll work. It has a lot going for it. The area looks like going ahead.

SilverCup Studios has plans on developing the largest movie studio outside of Los Angeles and plans on pumping over a billion dollars into the area; CitiBank is building their 2nd tower across the street from their original one in Long Island City. The City of New York has allocated $46 million dollars to develop parks, public spaces, a new public school, police precinct, library ...

But meanwhile, the area where The View is situated is in what was once a poor area - an area where old clapped-out residences shelter next to commercial establishments that have gone to seed. There are a few interesting stores and a scattering of restaurants, but not a lot.

A Sitting Room at The View

And I didn't fall in love with the owners' concept. It's all very nice having basketball courts, parks, gyms, home theater rooms, swimming pool, billiard rooms etc located in the buildings, but I don't like the self-contained-ness of it.

There was an institutional feel. Long corridors with many many apartments on each level. A bit like a large hotel. A feeling of anonymity.

I have to do my math. Property tax is only $9 per month for the next fifty years - or something LIKE that. I need to understand why. It'd normally be over $300 per month. Maintenance fees are OK - around $600 per month and that includes gas, central heating AND cooling as well as 24 hour doorman, the pool, the gym ...

Hey it's starting to sound better already.

Each apartment is equipped with high-end appliances - dish washer, microwave, huge fridge, washer, dryer. Oh and did I say there are 14' ceilings ... And it's all brand spanking new.

Most of the apartments are cheap by Manhattan standards. The cheapest ones are around $600,000 and bring in $2,400 per month rent. Interest rates here are around 4.25%.

As I say, I have to do the math.

And remember the area. Poor. Not many restaurants. NO clothes shops.

And what if it wasn't a sunny day? Would the view have been so fantastic?

Yes, there WERE wonderful views of Manhattan, and Grand Central Station is only 3 minutes away by subway.

But then, as my friend C remarked,

It's NOT Manhattan.

And hey! I don't have to LIVE there!

Stay tuned.

P.S. If you want to see more of The View, you can visit the website, HERE.

Put your money ... WHERE?

If you have any money, that is.

Save in Australia, spend in America

I decided today to write something practical.

For some time I've wondered why the interest on Australian "term deposits" (called CDs in the U.S.) were around 6% APY and in the U.S. CDs (called Term Deposits in Australia) were only gaining an APY interest rate of round 1.4%. I assumed, wrongly I know know, that I was comparing apples and pears. Corn with quandongs ... whatever.

But no. I checked and rechecked and APY (annual percentage yield) means the same thing in both countries.A

It's just that Australia has higher interest rates.

So if you are a dual Australian American citizen, send your money back to OZ!!!

I'm going to.

Oh, and here's a link about it - Bad CD rates force US investors to buy stocks.

On the other hand, if you can afford to buy property, the U.S. is the place as the interest rates are low. My mortgage is 4.25%.

Why isn't there more in the financial press about this interest rate disparity? Seems to me that if you had enough capital you could make a killing.

"Save in Australia, spend in America" is my new motto. In fact it's my first ever motto.

Dress down summer

Summer seemed just around the corner last week in New York. Cloudless blue skies and the sidewalks (streets) full of people. I have to write "sidewalks (streets)" because in the U.S. "street" means road. Road means road as well, I think because Americans like saying, "when the rubber hits the road".

But after a few days of sunshine, the weather became gloomy and it rained and rained. That annoying light Melbourne-y rain - for four days straight, spanning the weekend. So - no gym, no manicure. Instead I did my 2009 tax, a task I hate. And hence this interest in $$$.

Summer in New York, means women walking around in underwear on dress-down Fridays, never-ending heat with no cool spells, ice-cream vendors, Shakespeare in Central Park, stiffling subways (take the bus) and free concerts at the Seaport Music Festival at the South Street Seaport.

As I said a few posts back, eat your heart out, other people.

The Tea Party, the Coffee Party and the Beer Party

I'll write more on the Tea and Coffee (political) parties in the US later. Meanwhile Australians Abroad has started the Beer Party. It's on Facebook. You can join HERE.

We need a slogan.

Contenders are:

1: We shouldn't have a slogan
2: Your shout
3: Our beer is better than your beer
4: We meet in pubs
5: for the pursuit of happiness
6: all of the above (inc 1:)


Stay tuned.

The Tolerance Side

There was a doco on CNN tonight - "Her name was Steven" - about a trans-gender City Council Manager in Largo, Florida.

When in 2007 Largo, Florida, City Manager Steven Stanton announced that he planned to become a woman, he lost his job - solely because of the proposed gender change.

I have known a person who "crossed gender". And it isn't something that anyone would do for fun, or for any sinister motive, or wish on their worst enemy.

I can't say I was shocked or surprised at the Florida decision. However I was amazed - although the religious right never ceases to amaze me - when a Florida Council Baptist spokesperson referred derogatorily to "the Tolerance Side", and said of Steven (Susan) Stanton - "if Jesus was alive today he'd want Steven terminated."

The percentage of people who feel that they need a gender change is very small. So what's the problem? It isn't as though it is an infectious disease. There isn't going to be a gender-change pandemic.

To be honest, I feel a bit uncomfortable myself about men becoming women and (less frequently apparently) women becoming men. And I felt uneasy about my friend's gender change when he/she went "all the way". But that's MY problem, and should not be inflicted on others.

Yes, I felt uneasy about my friend's gender change.

And unhappily and not surprisingly, she was never at peace. She now "gone to god" as our mum would say.

I remembered my friend tonight as I watched "Her name was Steven".

Her name was Leslie.

Seize the Day, Seize the Tooth

Carpe diem, carpe diem
Sing cuckoo sing
Death is a comin' in,
Death is a comin' in

The Fugs, Carpe Diem

WITCH: Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog ...

from Macbeth, (the three witches)

When I first came to America, over sixteen years ago, I thought - at least I can get my teeth fixed. America - land of the perfect pearly white and regular teeth. "Smile, you're in America!"

I've never had beautiful teeth. Growing up in Australia and having a "state school" education, I was subjected to visits from the "school dentist".

I've long since repressed the details, but I can say, that by the age of twelve I'd had no less that 34 "fillings". Amalgam. And I didn't even eat candy or sugary substances. AND I brushed my teeth regularly.

And now the rooster has come home to do whatever roosters do.

Ever since turning thirty I've had a fear of dentists, as it was about then that I realized the extent of the damage that had been inflicted on my teeth and my jaw-line. And I THINK it was about that time that I saw "The Apartment" - that scary Polanski film where some psyched-out guy lies in bed alone, pulls out a tooth and pushes it into the dry-wall.

Teeth problems equal meltdown in the Juliff Manhattan household.

I have felt I'd sooner die than loose a front tooth.

And now the rubber has hit the road; the tooth has hit the gum ...

As Whitlam said in 1972 and as Obama said in 2009:

"It's Time."

Because yesterday, while watching TV, a chunk of one of my front teeth fell off. The very tooth whose decline my periodontist has predicted since 2005. It is now an EX tooth. Dead. Demised. Finished. Like the parrot in the Monty Python pet-shop sketch.

And as it is a front tooth, I am beside myself with worry. I remember my previous visits to the dentist and the periodontist. They both warned me: we cannot save those front teeth - yes, I remember ... but what is the alternative? I assume EXTRACTION! And though I assume there'll be some solution (implants, a plate, a bridge), of course it cannot be achieved in the same day. Which means ... being front-toothless!

I REFUSE to venture out in public like a crone - like one of Macbeth's witches.

Was it Shakespeare who wrote of old age as being, "sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything"? Notice it was the "sans teeth" that came first!

The saga of the front tooth - stay tuned.

Meanwhile we have to put up with Sarah Palin. I'd more or less decided not to even write about her. The more her name is mentioned the more important she becomes. But her latest excursion into interpreting the bible has taken the cake.

I was told that now she thinks that Palm Sunday is commemorating Jesus writing notes on his palm. Surly she jests.

But jest or not, I wish her 101 root canals. Stay tuned.

The Extremities of Not Being Talked About

THE PRINCE OF WALES:
Ah, my congratulations, Wilde. Your play is a great success. The whole of London's talking about you.
OSCAR WILDE:
Your highness, there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.
(There follows fifteen seconds of restrained and sycophantic laughter)
THE PRINCE OF WALES:
Oh, very witty, Wilde ..... very, very witty.
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER:
There is only one thing in the world worse than being witty, and that is not being witty.

Monty Python's Flying Circus -
"Oscar Wilde"

I've always loved that Monty Python dialogue, the take-off of the so-called Oscar Wilde witticism. The absurdity of it.

And yet ... how absurd is it? How unreal?

I thought about it last night when I was watching the Oscars. Suddenly it wasn't so absurd, although someone was.

I was watching the 'In Memoriam' section of the Oscars where oh-my-god-what-happened-to-sweet-Baby-James was strumming along singing, "In My Life", while clips of movies featuring actors who died in 2009 along with their portrait-stills, showed in the background.

As the song faded out and Sweet-Baby-James' guitar stopped pretending to weep , I thought, "Hey where was Farrah Fawcett?" I played it back, assuming I'd missed it.

I remembered Farrah Fawcett dying the same day as Michael Jackson. I KNEW I hadn't gotten the year wrong. I watched again, carefully.

She wasn't there.

Why not?

For her role in "Extremities" alone, she should have been. I just LOVED the bit where she tortured that rapist dick-head!

But the powers-that-be chose to not choose Farrah.

And I suppose that it just goes to show, there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

All things must pass.

Nothing changes.

There's only one thing wrong with being shown in the Oscars' "In Memoriam", and that's not being shown in the Oscars' "In Memoriam".

Or is it the other way around?

Stay tuned.

Wake in Fright

"What's the matter with him? He'd rather talk to a woman than drink?"

Dick to John, in the Australian film, "Wake in Fright" (1971)

"'Wake in Fright' received generally excellent reviews throughout the world [...]. However, despite garnering unanimous critical support at Cannes and in Australia, 'Wake in Fright' suffered poor domestic box-office returns. ... it was also thought that 'Wake In Fright' was perhaps too uncomfortably direct and uncompromising to draw large Australian audiences."

Wiki entry

Near the Gym (Asphalt Green)

Today I woke at six a.m. - early for me for a Sunday, but I had a lot on my plate, having veg'ed around all Saturday. But in vain had I set the alarm for the crack of dawn, for of course as soon as I awoke, I turned on the telly and promptly fell back asleep.

Soundly asleep, only to wake in fright, three hours later.

Horror of horrors, there I was in my dream, a participant (albeit passive) in some CNN panel show, surrounded by Republicans who were droning on about why America shouldn't have health care reform. Everytime I tried to speak I was drowned out by a very Republican man - who looked suspiciously like Sarah Palin in drag - who insisted on ignoring me.

It is SO weird when a television show enters one's dreams. Quite disconcerting. And especially so when that show is full of Republicans or Palin look-alikes of either gender.

I endured the torture for three long hours where upon I awoke exhausted, but relieved to be back in Kansas - or in my case, New York. At least people here are relatively sane.

My mood returned to normal when I opened my email. There I saw an excellent "Letter to the President" from Michael Moore. The one about bi-partisanship, that is. Mr Moore has written more than one. You can read the bipartisanship one HERE.

The Supermarket Van

Mail read, it was coffee, shower and then brunch, gym, shopping and Korean manicure. I certainly fast-tracked my usual weekend activities. Got 'em done in a record time of three hours.

Before I go - a couple of recommendations - I'm leaving time today to transcribe a guest column. One of my two New York friends has promised to write an amusing piece on "A movie on 86th Street", which will feature an exposé of a surprising use of cell phones by the young women of New York.

But for now, the recommendations.

1: Wake in Fright. Yes I woke in fright today but I also want to recommend the movie, "Wake in Fright". I saw it a few hundred years ago and have tried to get hold of it ever since. It has only recently been released on DVD having completely skipped the video-tape revolution of last century. It looks like it's only available in region 4 DVD or imported Blu-ray in the U.S., at the exorbitant price of 63.05 USD. But the price is bound to come down.

The BYO Coffee Mug in Manhattan

2: hookTURN's BYO Coffee cup. My son and his partner sent me one and it is perfect. You can read about these AMAZING environmentally and user-friendly coffee mugs HERE.

hookTurn's website says, "Made from silicone, it's firm but flexible, light-weight but tough, and will withstand 200ºC heat. It's pretty much indestructible." I must confess, I'm a little confused; how can something that is virtually indestructible be "green"? But no doubt there's an explanation.

In all it's a great mug. It doesn't burn your hand even when full of piping hot coffee, and it is attractive as well as practical.

As hookTURN's blurb says, "change the habit (of using paper cups), one coffee at a time."

Stay tuned.

 

Being Janis

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

Janis Joplin, "Mercedes Benz", 1970

I was in Athens, Greece when Janis Joplin died. Late 1970. I remember it well. Hendrix died around the same time. It was about two years after "the Summer of Love". In Athens and elsewhere, western travellers grouped together and were shocked. It was like a bit of us had been taken away. A something that we somehow knew, we'd never get back.

United only by our our whiteness and affluence (not that we felt 'affluent'), we mourned the loss of an icon. And yet many of us, myself included, did not at that time comprehend the magnitude of our loss.

I remember only the newspaper headlines, and a communal feeling shared by my fellow back-packer globe-trotters, a feeling that George Harrison immortalized in "All things must pass". It didn't hit home back then. It has now.

Now, I never tire of hearing Janis.

She's so far away from "me", so different - or so I am told. I'm controlled, secular, contained, and although I hate to admit it, "English". Maybe, but maybe not. Joplin expresses the soul of us white women as no other artist has.

Janis Joplin was so "full on". Has anyone been so "full on" since?

Maybe I've missed them and perhaps it is true that I've become more main-stream in my old age. But I'm open. Is it there, in Madonna, Beyonce, Lady Gaga. Michelle Shocked? Nope. There's cleverness in their understanding of the market. But the passion, the soul? No. It just doesn't exist.

I'm not saying Joplin was the greatest. I'm saying that she tapped into her generation WITH PASSION.

And as an adjunct, Joplin et al, defined contemporary music.

And yet... and yet ... there still exist people in this world, who say that America has no culture.

Who are these people?

They obviously don't think of Joplin, Hendrix, Dylan, Mamet, Lennon (yes, Lennon), Pollack, Warhol, T.S Elliot, the Coen Brothers ... the list goes on an on.

But even if it's true, even if the first Woodstock did not exist, even if Dylan was a nowhere man and Louis Armstrong was just a man who played the trumpet ... you have to admit that Janis Joplin was an all-time great.

And so when I'm feeling down, I plug in to the music of that all-time great.

Janis, you are missed.

- Thank you to Simon, for reminding me.

More on the Color Purple - OOPS - Compromise

A story, probably apocryphal, is of Marilyn Monroe saying dreamily to Arthur Miller: 'We should have a child, Arthur. Imagine a baby with your brains and my looks.' To which Miller retorted: 'Yes, but what if it got your brains and my looks?'

Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you.

Shlomo Yitzhaki (1040-1105)

Pucci Scarf with Irises

Strangely no sooner had I had posted "The color Compromise", than I received a phone call from Camp Obama, Club Obama, whatever it is now called. Without taking a breath, the caller launched into and completed her spiel.

I'm convinced that these Obama call people are given special breathing lessons and that smokers are not allowed, or perhaps the people manning the call-centers are retired snorkel divers with over-sized lungs and time on their hands. Or perhaps, like their leader, they have no pulse and need very little oxygen.

"We aren't asking for a donation," she started. "We are LEAVING!" That got my intention as no doubt it was intended to. I tried to speak but she was already halfway through her next sentence. "We are LEAVING to campaign for the mid-term elections in November and we need money. This time we aren't asking for lumps sums, we are asking for installments, a little money every month." A pause. My chance!

"I'm sick of the man," I told her. "The fiasco of a health-care bill that isn't even a bill. It's useless. And I am tired of this bi-partisanship thing - bi-partisan doesn't work with partisans. Take me off your list. I am SO disappointed."

After I had hung up I was became even more angry. "Installments" my eye! I can afford cash for god's sake ... I live on the upper east side in Manhattan and I am employed. Don't these people do demographics?

I'm sick of the sight of the man. I thought I'd gotten away from arrogant professors and their ilk when I left Melbourne University. And as for fiasco of a health-care bill that doesn't exist, and doesn't ensure decent health care for ALL Americans ...

Fish For Sale, Michigan, 2009

And yeah, I know he's better than Sarah Palin. But who isn't. A fish would be better. I could do better; my cat could do better, if I had a cat, which I do not. Like the health-care bill,it doesn't exist.

But something DOES exist that didn't exist - for me anyway. My new Emelio Pucci scarf. I was so pleased with myself for saving the Obama money that I stopped off at Bloomingdales on my way home tonight and spent it. You can see it in the photo top-left, next to the vase of irises. Another splurge.

But enough of Obama. Enough already yet as my mother used to say.

Here are a couple of items about entertainment.

Last Saturday I watched "A Serious Man" by the Coen brothers. Those guys are brilliant. I don't often like black comedies, but this one was riveting. A mix of Mamet, early Woody Allen and of course Joel and Ethan Coen. It is all good and especially the ending. And for those of us baby boomers, the sets will bring home memories of those dull old days of the sixties before the world turned to color. The decor, the clothes, they are 'just there', understated and authentic. It is a very Jewish film but you don't have to be Jewish to appreciate it. Although it does help to have a mother who used to say "already yet".

The other piece of entertainment is a very cute little girl in a packaged fish commercial. I saw it last weekend when I was relaxing in front of the telly.

Some sad-sacks have criticized her on the web, for being bossy. A word to those people - although I doubt that any of them read my blog. (Most if not all of my readers know the difference between reality and television commercials.) It is a funny ad, she's cute and despite those people who probably still believe in the tooth fairy, the ad is not setting out to make mothers feel guilty.

"Have you ever catched a minced fish?"

Watch it.

The color 'Compromise'?

"One of the truest tests of integrity is its blunt refusal to be compromised."

Chinua Achebe

"The 'morality of compromise' sounds contradictory. Compromise is usually a sign of weakness, or an admission of defeat. Strong men don't compromise, it is said, and principles should never be compromised."

Dale Carnegie

"A good compromise, a good piece of legislation, is like a good sentence; or a good piece of music. Everybody can recognize it. They say, 'Huh. It works. It makes sense.'"

Barack Obama

Bi-Partisan Gloves with Irises

The latest and to-strive-for thing here in The United States, is being bi-partisan. Or is it?

Is there something essentially good about compromise (bi-partisanship)? I don't THINK so.

But I bring it up because I heard designer - Isaac Mizrahi, who created Michelle Obama's dress for the State of the Union address - say tonight, on the Joy Behar show, that that Michelle's dress was "so bi-partisan". And hence "good".

Did he mean that it was bi-partisan because it was purple - a mix of red (Republican) and blue (Democratic) as Behar suggested? Isaac Mr Mizrahi agreed with this, but I suspect he just wanted to get on with it and to change the subject.

In any case, he claimed that the dress was "bi-partisan" and therefore good, and further, that the color purple could almost be re-named as the color "bi-partisan".

So ... Michelle wears bi-partisan and her husband wants to be, bi-partisan.

Personally I find Michelle Obama more gutsy than her husband. SHE doesn't appear to be a compromiser.

Have we thrown out "The Decider" merely to replace him with "The Compromiser"? The mind boggles.

Did George W compromise? Did Bill Clinton? Jimmy Carter? JFK? Martin Luther King Jnr? Mandela, Ghandi?

Look at the range of what those people claimed to have stood for. And despite the disparities between them, all of them aimed for what they believed in - not espousing 50% of it - with the other 50% of their proposals being what they were AGAINST.

The current sort-of-proposed bi-partisan health care bill is a travesty. It is an abortion (no pun intended).

Taking the worst from both sides of Congress is taking the worst, whichever way you put it.

And talking of congress, will Obama stand by America's gay and bi citizens, supporting the rights of individuals' sexual orientation, as well as promoting bi-partisan?

I don't think so. BI only goes so far.

Or not far enough ...