I have attempted to write this article twice in the last couple
of years. Embarrassment always stopped me. There are some
topics that, when written, tend to confirm a person's outright
nuttiness instead of merely implying lesser eccentricities and
oddities. Yet, you, the gentle readers of this blog, should
already know me by now. I've never shied away from the
different beat of the drum that I tap, so there is no point in
holding back now.
I have a problem. I suffer from OCMPD: Obssessive
Compulsive Musical Preference Disorder. (FYI--that isn't
a clinical term as much as it is a Matthew term.)
Here is a purely hypothetical example of how the affliction
works: for whatever reason, driving on I-75 through downtown
Atlanta always makes you think of a song. In this case, we'll say
that song is the infamous disco hit, "Don't Leave Me This Way"
by Thelma Houston. So, when approaching the full view of the
city's skyline, you stop listening to whatever is currently playing
and start looking for the CD with that song. It dawns on you that
the CD is in the backseat in a difficult-to-access compartment of
your backpack. So you reach in the backseat, almost rear-ending
a Ford Focus in the process, grab the backpack and start
maneuvering through the compartments just to get the damned CD.
You're also doing this while trying to maneuver around eight lanes
of interstate with cars coming in all directions at 75mph. You finally
find the CD and although you're a little frustrated that you've just
missed a beautiful part of the Atlanta skyline, you can enjoy the rest
of the view with the song--but you can't start it at the beginning.
Nooo, you have to fast-forward to the chorus and ending instrumental
refrain to appreciate the moment, because that's the part that you enjoy
the most and because you have OCMPD. Unfortunately, its the same
OCMPD that once attracted police attention while you were speeding
down a road just outside of Jonesboro, Arkansas, just looking for that
friggin' CD with "China Grove" by the Doobie Brothers!
Again: purely hypothetical.
What can I say? Sometimes I am visiting a city for the first time when I
hear a song for the first time--and the song sticks. Every now and then,
I'll have a really great evening out somewhere, hear a song and the place
is forever associated with it. The lyrics or song meaning often have
something to do with why I relate the song to the place or person, but not
always. There is no science to this--but I should probably be studied (or
committed), anyway.
In honor of an upcoming road trip, here are some musical numbers that are
must-haves for me in certain places. Be careful reading these, though...my
song associations may start out in my head, but nothing keeps them from
going into yours...
--Louisville: "Legs" - ZZTop, "Take The Long Way Home" - Supertramp
--Lexington: "Get What You Give" - New Radicals, "Be Near Me"- ABC,
"Don't You Forget About Me" - Simple Minds
--Cincinnati: "WKRP in Cincinnati" - Theme Song
--Columbus: "Panama" - Van Halen
--Arkansas: "Jealousy" - Natalie Merchant, "China Grove" - Doobie Bros.,
--Southern IN: "Don't Give Up On Us" - David Soul
--Texas: "China Grove" - Doobie Bros.
--Alabama: "I Can Only Imagine" - Mercy Me
--Atlanta: "Don't Leave Me This Way" - Thelma Houston,
"You Make Me Feel Mighty Real" - Sylvester
--Georgia: "Driving Miss Daisy" Theme
--Florida: "Overkill" - Men At Work, "Your Love" - The Outfield,
"All The Love" - The Outfield
--Tampa Bay: "Rio" - Duran Duran, "I'm A Slave 4 U" - Britney Spears
"Never Surrender" - Corey Hart, "Cool Change" - Little River Band
--Portland: "100 Years" - Five For Fighting, "Invincible" - Pat Benatar,
"Life In A Northern Town" - Dream Academy, "Give A Little Bit" -
Supertramp, "Rikki Don't Lose That Number" - Steely Dan,
"Don't Talk To Strangers" - Rick Springfield
--Eastern OR: "Life In A Northern Town" - Dream Academy,
"Breathe" - Michelle Branch
--California: "California Dreams" Theme Song, "California Love" - 2Pac
--San Francisco: "San Francisco" - Scott McKenzie, "Lights" - Journey,
"Dance Disco Heat" - Sylvester, "Full House" Theme Song
--Chicago: "Perfect Strangers" Theme Song,
"Club Can't Handle Me" - Flo Rida
--Western KY/TN: "Tiny Dancer" - Elton John,
"Walking In Memphis" - Marc Cohn
--Memphis: "Blame It On The Boogie" - Michael Jackson,
"Walking In Memphis" - Marc Cohn
--Eastern TN: "Who Wouldn't Wanna Be Me?" - Keith Urban, "Big Star" -
Kenny Chesney, "Please Come To Boston" - Dave Loggins
--Eastern KY: "Amie" - Pure Prairie League, "Crazy Love" - Poco
--Washington, DC: "A Thousand Miles" - Vanessa Carlton
--Waddy: "Small Town Saturday Night" - Hal Ketcham,
"Boondocks" - Little Big Town
--West Virginia: quite a few Fleetwood Mac songs
--Virginia Beach: "Sailing" - Christopher Cross
--New York City: "I Know You Want Me" - Pitbull,
"I'm Movin' Out" - Billy Joel
Are these the only songs that I listen to when I drive around these places?
No. But I can guarantee that they'll appear on my playlist at least once.
Although I have done my best to keep this sordid, embarrassing disorder to
myself over the years, I've let the secret slip from time to time. I'll never forget
when I found out that I wasn't alone. This revelation came to me in the form of
a guy I was dating. We were riding in my car one day and The Outfield's hit,
"Your Love" started playing. Without any mention of what the song reminded
me of, my date blurted out, "You know, that song has always reminded me of
driving near the beaches in Florida--especially this instrumental part..."
I thought I was going to wreck the car.
Maybe some of you have this disorder. Or maybe you're placing a call to some
nice, men/women in white clothes who are coming to take me away. Well, don't
bother...
Admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery. :)
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Buying Accountability--Telling US "No."
http://money.cnn.com/2012/02/09/news/economy/mortgage_settlement/index.htm?hpt=hp_t1
Since three days prior to graduating from high school twelve years ago, I have been a renter and have lived alone close to 90% of that time. My finances have been mine and usually mine alone to navigate. I can count on both hands the number of times that I have requested financial assistance from my parents in the last eight years that I have supported myself. And when I say I'll pay them back, my word is as good as gold. I toot my own horn, pat myself on the back and give a self-round of applause for all of that. Struggling alone has never been easy, but when you do it, you respect yourself more. In a way, I thank a Higher Power that I dropped out of college when I did. At that point, my parents politely (and justly) stopped inserting the silver spoon into this well-fed mouth. It forced me to grow up. Although I always knew and continue to know that I can rely on them if absolutely necessary, I receive tremendous satisfaction from knowing that I can pay my own way.
The subject of the above article has me thinking about the way in which I conduct myself financially. I have made poor monetary decisions for years. I remember being around eleven years old and finding out about a raffle. When someone explained to me how the raffle worked, I got excited at the prospect of winning money. I walked one mile home to get my tiny safe, then full of dozens of coins and dollars. My Mom took me back to get a ticket for the raffle, at which point I handed over what must have been months of savings. We stayed around for the raffle drawing with my sure-to-be winning ticket in hand. Other than saying, "You know that you might not win?", my Mom said little. She knew what she was doing. Needless to say, I was devastated when someone else won the jackpot, which was well over $100. To this day, I cringe when I think of putting any substantial amount into a slot machine, lottery or trip to the bingo hall. That teachable moment at eleven years of age takes the credit.
Credit has been quite the learning experience as well. When I was first on my own, I made purchases on my credit card and would get so annoyed at the balance that I would make an exhorbitant payment to cover them. At the end of the month, I would be using my card again because I had--yep, you guessed it--spent too much (or all) of my cash flow on the credit card payment. It took me entirely too long to figure out that one. I then went into reverse and started paying just over the minimum balance until it dawned on me that I was covering the accrued interest--and barely touching the principal. Years of leaning on credit finally took its toll and just eighteen months ago, I was forced to face the financial music. It wasn't pretty, but after months of budgeting, strategizing and taking advantage of good advice from my parents and my ex, the reward is about to be sweet: I will soon be credit card debt-free for the first time in seven years.
Some lessons are part of growing up, and some come with experience.
I think that I started growing up financially in the spring of 2009 when I decided that I wanted a condo. $8,000 was a great incentive for a first-time homeowner, right? I needed to jump 'now', right? Hey, I had a stable job and a decent income--why not?! So, I got myself a realtor, who, in turn, helped me find a mortgage broker. Within weeks, we had found a gem: a gorgeous, spotless place in a great part of town. There was only one problem: it was on the high end of what I thought I could afford and the seller didn't want to come down much on the asking price. Fortunately, my realtor wasn't too pushy. He could've made life hell for me since I was seeing the condo with stars in my eyes--and not the necessary objective realism. But when the mortgage broker and I sat down over coffee to look at what few assets I had and how it would all play out, the stars came crashing down--hard.
My mortgage payment would be significantly higher than what I was paying in rent. There was an earnest fee, PMI, the works--not to mention nightmarish property taxes. My home loan would be at least three times my salary--and that didn't include the monthly Homeowner's Association fee. Basically, by going through with it, I wasn't just going to be house-poor like most others. I was about to walk the plank--and jump. I would have been so financially maxed out that something as small as a broken water heater would have likely put me into default. I told the broker and my realtor that I needed time to think about it. Three years later, I'm still just thinking.
This "housing crisis" has shown us that renting and its usual negative stigmas ("I don't own it so I can't do what I want", "you're paying someone else's mortgage", "you're throwing your money away") must be fairly countered by highlighting negative stigmas to buying ("This house is so expensive to maintain", "my interest rate keeps changing", "I can't live my life the way I want because I'm broke.") It does not matter that your property taxes and what-not are "thrown into the mortgage." It does not matter that you get to write off the interest on your income taxes. It doesn't matter how good the rates are or how little is required for a down payment. What matters is that if you don't read and heed the volumes of fine print, take time to budget and think about how you want to live your life, you have no business owning a home.
I have blogged about this before, but in light of the settlement, it bears repeating: people are quick to blame the greedy mortgage lenders. People are also ready to apply part of this crisis to Reagan's claim that "government is the problem." But on the issue of personal, financial accountability, most of the blame usually lies elsewhere.
It's in the mirror.
Since three days prior to graduating from high school twelve years ago, I have been a renter and have lived alone close to 90% of that time. My finances have been mine and usually mine alone to navigate. I can count on both hands the number of times that I have requested financial assistance from my parents in the last eight years that I have supported myself. And when I say I'll pay them back, my word is as good as gold. I toot my own horn, pat myself on the back and give a self-round of applause for all of that. Struggling alone has never been easy, but when you do it, you respect yourself more. In a way, I thank a Higher Power that I dropped out of college when I did. At that point, my parents politely (and justly) stopped inserting the silver spoon into this well-fed mouth. It forced me to grow up. Although I always knew and continue to know that I can rely on them if absolutely necessary, I receive tremendous satisfaction from knowing that I can pay my own way.
The subject of the above article has me thinking about the way in which I conduct myself financially. I have made poor monetary decisions for years. I remember being around eleven years old and finding out about a raffle. When someone explained to me how the raffle worked, I got excited at the prospect of winning money. I walked one mile home to get my tiny safe, then full of dozens of coins and dollars. My Mom took me back to get a ticket for the raffle, at which point I handed over what must have been months of savings. We stayed around for the raffle drawing with my sure-to-be winning ticket in hand. Other than saying, "You know that you might not win?", my Mom said little. She knew what she was doing. Needless to say, I was devastated when someone else won the jackpot, which was well over $100. To this day, I cringe when I think of putting any substantial amount into a slot machine, lottery or trip to the bingo hall. That teachable moment at eleven years of age takes the credit.
Credit has been quite the learning experience as well. When I was first on my own, I made purchases on my credit card and would get so annoyed at the balance that I would make an exhorbitant payment to cover them. At the end of the month, I would be using my card again because I had--yep, you guessed it--spent too much (or all) of my cash flow on the credit card payment. It took me entirely too long to figure out that one. I then went into reverse and started paying just over the minimum balance until it dawned on me that I was covering the accrued interest--and barely touching the principal. Years of leaning on credit finally took its toll and just eighteen months ago, I was forced to face the financial music. It wasn't pretty, but after months of budgeting, strategizing and taking advantage of good advice from my parents and my ex, the reward is about to be sweet: I will soon be credit card debt-free for the first time in seven years.
Some lessons are part of growing up, and some come with experience.
I think that I started growing up financially in the spring of 2009 when I decided that I wanted a condo. $8,000 was a great incentive for a first-time homeowner, right? I needed to jump 'now', right? Hey, I had a stable job and a decent income--why not?! So, I got myself a realtor, who, in turn, helped me find a mortgage broker. Within weeks, we had found a gem: a gorgeous, spotless place in a great part of town. There was only one problem: it was on the high end of what I thought I could afford and the seller didn't want to come down much on the asking price. Fortunately, my realtor wasn't too pushy. He could've made life hell for me since I was seeing the condo with stars in my eyes--and not the necessary objective realism. But when the mortgage broker and I sat down over coffee to look at what few assets I had and how it would all play out, the stars came crashing down--hard.
My mortgage payment would be significantly higher than what I was paying in rent. There was an earnest fee, PMI, the works--not to mention nightmarish property taxes. My home loan would be at least three times my salary--and that didn't include the monthly Homeowner's Association fee. Basically, by going through with it, I wasn't just going to be house-poor like most others. I was about to walk the plank--and jump. I would have been so financially maxed out that something as small as a broken water heater would have likely put me into default. I told the broker and my realtor that I needed time to think about it. Three years later, I'm still just thinking.
This "housing crisis" has shown us that renting and its usual negative stigmas ("I don't own it so I can't do what I want", "you're paying someone else's mortgage", "you're throwing your money away") must be fairly countered by highlighting negative stigmas to buying ("This house is so expensive to maintain", "my interest rate keeps changing", "I can't live my life the way I want because I'm broke.") It does not matter that your property taxes and what-not are "thrown into the mortgage." It does not matter that you get to write off the interest on your income taxes. It doesn't matter how good the rates are or how little is required for a down payment. What matters is that if you don't read and heed the volumes of fine print, take time to budget and think about how you want to live your life, you have no business owning a home.
I have blogged about this before, but in light of the settlement, it bears repeating: people are quick to blame the greedy mortgage lenders. People are also ready to apply part of this crisis to Reagan's claim that "government is the problem." But on the issue of personal, financial accountability, most of the blame usually lies elsewhere.
It's in the mirror.
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