“Have your Visa or MasterCard ready”

“The average home, here in America, cost $219,000,” trumpeted some loud infomercial on our TV last night (Saturday, January 31, 2009).
“Yet we bought this home for $349.50. We here at ‘Free-and-Clear’ are gonna show you how to make millions in the real-estate market.”
“WHAT?” I say. “Our recently deceased 94 year old nosy neighbor had a wonderful thing to say about that.
‘If it sounds too good to be true, it is,’ he’d say.”
One time Hairman, a Grand Dragon in the local Masons, came out to give old Vern an award.
Vern wouldn’t even let him in the door.
“Just put that award in my mailbox,” Vern said. “I don’t know you from the moon!”
Hairman had to put the award in Vern’s mailbox. I heard all about it at Hairman’s shop.
A small pink stucco southern California cottage was paraded on the TV; all glitzy and shining radiantly in the L.A. sunshine, lawn green with Colorado River water from the Aqueduct.
“Wait a minute!” I say.
“I always thought of houses as a place of abode — not a means to a bloated fatcat profit.”
Their angle, I guess, was buying properties at tax sales.
I don’t think such a home would look like that miniature L.A. palace.
If the owners can’t pay $349.50 in taxes, they can’t afford upkeep. Forget paint; forget the moldy garage-door; forget broken windows.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if thieves had stripped out all the copper plumbing and wiring.
A house up the road looks like one of these tax-sale rejects. A beautiful home fallen on hard times.
Apparently some farmer got it, and converted the whole lawn into grazing pasture for his cattle. (Look out for the steaming piles.)
He also has a broken tractor out front, under a blue plastic tarp; and piles of junk scattered about amidst farm-implements.
I guess he also lives in it — he’s managed to paint it.
“Call ‘Free-and-Clear’ now,” the ad said.
“$39.95 gets you our instructive manual.
No wait! Use your credit-card and it’s only $29.95. Plus we’ll throw in a free DVD!
You too can make millions in real-estate.
Have your Visa or MasterCard ready.”

“Our recently deceased 94 year old nosy neighbor.....” was Vern Habecker (“HAH-becker”). Vern and I had a lotta good times, pillorying each other. Vern used to watch us (my wife and I) from across the street.

“Hairman” is my hair-dresser. I’ve gone to him at least 17-18 years. (My macho, loudmouthed brother-from-Boston, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, excoriates my hair. I shouldn’t be patronizing Hairman; like my brother I should be having my hair trimmed by HairCrafters at $5 a pop, or use my John Deere riding-mower.)