My Part in the Financial Crisis

by Ric Snead

I am absolutely fascinated with the tale of intrigue, suspense, murder, looting and pillage that is the high finance world. Such characters~Paul 'the Vulture' Singer, George 'Puppet Master' Soros' the killer Koch brothers, and all their minions, especially the teleprompter reading stooge in the Oval Office, whomever he may be.

Oddly enough, I was a part of the Grand Scam near the beginning. In 2003, I was just-separated from the Countess, flat broke, living in a rat-infested dump. One day, taking a break from combing the place for enough change to get a pack of smokes, I went to the mailbox, and found a letter from GE Financial~which didn't really exist yet. Officially, they were created in 2004, but I digress. First words on the page were "YOU ARE PRE-APPROVED".

After a little dickering with the girl on the phone, it was agreed that I was pre-approved for $10,000. I of course asked no questions regarding why or how I was pre-approved for such a princely sum. I played it off with perfect aplomb. I actually did (and do) intend to open a business. 

I didn't even have a bank account. She told me to go open one, and call her back. I borrowed a few bucks from somewhere and did so. She apologized for the inconvenience of having to make out two checks. Max they could transfer in a day was $5000. This was all totally unsecured, but of course my pre-approved status was due to the fact that I still had my name (and still do) on a mortgage. This eventually came back to bite the Countess in the ass, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I went off to the wilds of Indiana to open a meadery~a winery devoted to making mead. And limped back precisely two years later, flat broke, tail between my legs, but with 30 gal of excellent mead onboard. Fast forward two years. I had the poor form to have a heart attack. Double bypass by one of the finest~thank you, Dr. Reames...I had insurance of all things. I worked for Compass Group, and was signed up with Cobra. Only as it turned out, they have some pretty persnickety rules. They sent me a form, that I had to deliver to the doctor/clinic to be filled in and sent back *within two weeks* by gods. Not 15 days. So I delivered their missive (this involved a bus trip) and pleaded with them to get it back on time. Guess what? They didn't. For awhile, I think the laughing kept me alive whenever I'd open a bill from the hospital for $498,000 and change.

Then...of course...I got another letter. "YOU ARE PRE-APPROVED". From Citi. (Hi guys. Long time no hear from...)This time, I only took $8000~they offered me $10k, but I *really* intended to do the thing, open the meadery and actually *pay it back*. More fool me. Wish I had that 2 grand now. Time and trouble~I'd been fired from my chef job after I had the heart attack (thanks guys! Love ya!) so I was out of work, broke, etcetcetc. Then I had the ill grace to almost die again. I almost died of a broken heart~now it was a bleeding ulcer. Lotta stress in the world of high finance. This trip was on the cuff~indigent insurance plan. But I was not in any shape to get a job, or build a winery, so the remainder of my finance capitol got spent on rent, beer and cigarettes.

We finally got a divorce that year~they were going to boot me out of the sliding scale clinic I was going to. Still, the matter of the house was never dealt with. I told her over and over that we needed to get my name off that piece of paper. I didn't know yet that it, along with about a million other dinky mortgages had been rolled up into a derivative shit sandwich and sold off at 40:1, but I had a bad feeling about it. 

Sad to say, 5 years after the divorce, 9 years after the fiscal crimes were comitted, they're all off scot-free, and herSelf is on the hook for a $10 k lien on the house I left her and young Ms. Spawn.

Nowadays I can't even open a bank account without paying them $10 a month for the privelege. But I was there at the beginning, and it was one helluva ride.