It's All About the Money

{This is my fourth submission in a series on the financial crisis here in America. I want this to be an honest account of why we are where we are based on my tiny perspective of the mortgage/housing debacle.}

Yesterday, I wrote about how good-intentioned folks can do the wrong thing...all chasing the almighty dollar. I've had numerous people over the years tell me that something ought to be done about this sort of deceit. I agree. But better men than me have taken up issues with the appraisal subcommittee only to be shot down...or put in a permanent holding pattern.

I often wondered why. I guess my first exposure to the answer was way back in 1992. I was just an apprentice appraiser then, working for my brother-in-law. He told me that there were a certain two or three appraisers that seemed to get all the work. I remember somewhere around '92 or '93, one of these top dogs was put on a "watch" list by a major lender because of the number of mistakes that were being made on his appraisals. These mistakes significantly impacted values; and usually, these "mistakes" made the houses appear more valuable than they actually were.

Now as it happens, our office was asked to perform an appraisal on a house owned by one of that particular lender's main officers. My bro-in-law thought it would be a good time to try and find out why so much work went to one or two guys in the business. So, after we inspected his house, we had a "sit-down" with the owner and had a nice conversation. My bro-in-law mentioned that he knew that one of the lender's favorite appraisers was on a watch list and wanted to know if that had impacted their business. The officer informed us of something we didn't know.

(This isn't verbatim...but you will get the gist.)

Officer: "*** has been put back on our approved list."

Bro-in-law: "Really? I thought he had some significant problems on a good number of appraisals."

Officer: "Yeah, but we were asked to put him back on the list by someone higher up in the corporation. No, let's just say that we were instructed to put him back on the list."

Bro-in-law: "Why?"

Officer: "Don't ever forget, it's all about the money."

He conceded that his company was willing to accept inferior work in order to "capture" the almighty dollar. Oh, but how allusive the dollar is. It's always one step ahead...right out of reach.

Over the past fifteen years, the number of liars and the extent of the lies has grown exponentially. I know of several appraisers that have had their work sent to the state subcommittee for review, but none of the local guys have received more than a hand spanking. In fact, I only know of one guy in the whole state of Louisiana that had his license taken away. But it was only for three years; and, trust me, this guy was bogus. He's probably back in business now.

Why? Because it's all about the money. Take a look at this excerpt from a recent article about the Appraisal Subcommittee. The new head didn't need but one day on the job to determine that things were seriously out of hand.

The performance of the Appraisal Subcommittee was among the subjects detailed in a six-month AP investigation that identified key failings in the nation's regulation of appraisers.

The AP found that since 2005, more than two dozen states and U.S. territories have violated federal rules by failing to investigate and resolve complaints about appraisers within a year. Some complaints sat uninvestigated for as long as four years and as a result, hundreds of appraisers accused of wrongdoing have remained in business.

Congress created the Appraisal Subcommittee nearly 20 years ago after concluding that faulty and fraudulent appraisals were an important contributor to the savings and loan crisis in the 1980s. It's main function is conducting field reviews and audits to ensure states are licensing appraisers and disciplining those who break the rules.

Source: Mitch Weiss, Associated Press Writer

Article: "Appraisal agency's new chief quits after first day" Published 10/28/2008

For the full article, click on the link below:
http://www.blueridgenow.com/article/20081028/NEWS/810280277/1170

Interesting how things change when you dangle a dollar in front of someone's face, huh?

"It Wasn't Me...It Was the Other Guy"

{This is my third submission in a series on the financial crisis here in America. I want this to be an honest account of why we are where we are based on my tiny perspective of the mortgage/housing debacle.}

Well, I did it. I thought I was going to be able to publish a weekly series on this appraisal/mortgage mess, but I dropped the ball. At least I admit it, though. I wish I could say the same for some of my cohorts in this industry. My excuse for not writing...I was busy...with work! What?!? Yeppers, even with the financial crisis going on in America, I actually received work. Thank the Lord Almighty!

Well, my blog today won't disclose anything that hasn't already been revealed in my previous efforts. Plus, by now, you've probably heard enough on the national front to understand that there was a whole lot of lying going on across the board. But I thought it would be interesting to take an actual case and expose the hypocrisy and the deceit.

No, I'm not naming names. There's no reason to at this point. I'll share why at the end of this narrative.

So, here we go....

I didn't actually hear someone literally say "It wasn't me...it was the other guy". But it wasn't far from this and it happened within the past year. I was working on an appraisal of a home which is not too far from where I live. I'd like to think that I know what real estate in my immediate area is selling for, day-in and day-out. But, sometimes, sales slip through the cracks. One of the comparable sales that I decided to use for this assignment is located less than 3/4 mile from my house. This property was listed in 2007 for $158,500. After a couple of months on the market, the owner decided to reduce the price to $153,500. After 258 days on the market, the property sold...for $165,000! Huh? That's an $11,500 swing from 153,500 to 165,000. The owner must have made some improvements to the house prior to the sale, right? Wrong! Well, then, did the owner make some concessions to the buyer, you know, like paying the buyer's closing cost? Nope!

Are you bewildered? That sounds too good to be true, doesn't it? The buyer walked into the house with over $11,000 in instant equity, right? I didn't understand the sale, so I called one of the parties involved in the sale...an agent. When asked about the unusual nature of the sale, I was astounded at her response. I was even more surprised by her honesty.

Why did it sell for more than it was listed...after being on the market for two-third's of a year? First thing out of her mouth..."Well, *** *** did the appraisal." She could have stopped right there and I would have understood...but she pressed on. "He was doing it for a sub-prime lender and he was able to appraise it for $165,000, so we sold it for that. I really believe that the property should have sold between $145,000 and $150,000 because it has some settlement issues {problem with the slab}. But *** *** was able to write something in his remarks that kept the house from having an engineer's report. If the buyer decides to sell anytime soon, she's going to be out of a lot of money."

There you have it...in a nutshell. Fraud...deceit...pointing the finger at the other guy. The agent acted negligently not to disclose that the property wasn't really worth $165,000 as the buyer thought...and the appraisal indicated. She should have urged the buyer to hire an engineer to examine the slab. Instead, she swept it under the rug, so to speak. All to make a buck. That nasty engineer might have cost her that sale. He might have said something that would have spooked the buyer. Or he may have reported that everything was fine. I guess we'll never know. But what got me was the fact that she was so quick to implement the appraiser. What the appraiser did was wrong. He obviously overstated the value and hid a significant detail to the lender (possible slab problems). But the agent absolved herself from any wrongdoing. It was the other guy, not her.

So, you might ask, "Aren't there checks and balances to prevent this from happening?" I thought so. But when agents, appraisers, lenders, etc. start turning the blind eye to problems, I guess things fly through. There's a section on the front page of the URAR (Uniform Residential Appraisal Report) which specifically asks about the current listing or previous listings of the subject property in the past year. I assume that the appraiser didn't lie about the listing information. If he correctly identified that the property was listed for 158,500, then reduced to 153,500 prior to the sale, someone should have noted a red flag. My gut tells me that the lender looked the other way. Now, if the loan goes bad (homeowner defaults on her mortgage), then the lender will have to buy the loan back if they didn't document how the increase in value was justified. Chances are, they are already out of business. So, open up your pocketbooks, baby, another tsunami is coming.

Finally, you might ask me, "Have you turned anyone in for these fraudulent practices?" Nope. Not yet. For over 15 years, it didn't seem to matter. I heard of folks getting turned in to the state appraisal subcommittee...only to find out that nothing was done about it. The powers that be wanted everything to run smoothly. But now the chickens are coming home to roost. People are starting to see how these problems affect us all...where it hurts the most...our wallets.

"So, why haven't you named names?" I ran out of room to tell you. Come back tomorrow and we dive into that one.

Gun Control...Yeah, I Like Gun Control

PG-13 Joke

A salesman checked into a futuristic hotel in Tokyo Japan. Realizing he needed a haircut before the next day's meeting, he called down to the desk clerk to ask if there was a barber on the premises. 'I'm afraid not, sir,' the clerk told him apologetically, 'but down the hall from your room is a vending machine that should serve your purposes.'

Skeptical, but intrigued, the salesman located the machine, inserted $15.00, and stuck his head into the opening, at which time the machine started to buzz and whirl. Fifteen seconds later the salesman pulled out his head and surveyed his reflection, which reflected the best haircut of his life.

Two feet away was another machine with a sign that read, 'Manicures, $20.00'. 'Why not?' thought the salesman. He paid the money, inserted his hands into the slot, and the machine started to buzz and whirl. Fifteen seconds later he pulled out his hands and they were perfectly manicured.

The next machine had a sign that read, 'This Machine Provides a Service Men Need When Away from Their Wives, 50 Cents.' The salesman looked both ways, put fifty cents in the machine, unzipped his fly, and with some anticipation, stuck his manhood into the opening. When the machine started buzzing, the guy let out a shriek of agony and almost passed out. Fifteen seconds later it shut off...

With trembling hands, the salesman was able to withdraw his tender
unit........which now had a button sewn neatly on the end.

A Dog's Purpose

Meredith sent this email to me. I loved it so much that I decided to publish it on the Cutting Edge. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I don't know who the author is...but it's worth reading.

A Dog's Purpose (from a 6-year old).

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolf hound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.'

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, 'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good Life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The six-year-old continued, 'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'

Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy..

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

Just In Case You Thought Showing Off Was Cool

You Got Me...I Dunno

This past Sunday I played guitar for my church during worship. Typically, all I do is strum some of the chords along with the songs. I'd love to do more; but as it stands now, I don't get the music until Friday. Even then, I don't get to practice with the rest of the worship team until Sunday morning. Usually, I have less than an hour to figure out what I'm going to be able to do with a song. So, go figure...you can't do a lot when you're winging it, right?

I'm not going to take this blog to gripe about the bone I'd like to pick with our minister of music. Rather, I just wanted to offer you the setting of my story...and later I'll get to a question.



It is important for you to know that some of our church members are "sideways". The rub...the fact that we're going to try the two worship services beginning in January '09. Some churches have referred to it as the music wars..."do we play traditional hymns or contemporary praise choruses?" I'll go on the record by saying that I like them both. Aren't we there to worship God...not music? However, if you want to attract young couples to your church, you have to have an interesting/educational teacher in the pulpit or wonderfully orchestrated music. At this time, we have neither. And, from the looks of things, we won't be ready come January. Less than two years ago, I was present in a meeting when our preacher announced that the church would never go contemporary while he was the pastor. I hope he put enough salt and pepper on those words...he's fixin' to eat 'em.

While I was standing in the choir loft Sunday morning, I looked out into our congregation and saw a sea of gray hair. I've been a member at this church for as long as I can remember, but lately, the younger members are leaving in droves. I'm sure we're not the only church suffering from this malady. But our congregation is aging...and nobody wants anything to change. The most glaring thing that I noticed Sunday morning...and this, my friend, upset me more than anything...was looking into the faces of the choir members. Not all, but more than 75% looked liked they were attending a funeral. Seriously! No happiness...no life! How sad!

Now, you might offer to me that church is not the place for frivolity...worship is supposed to be respectful. I agree. But have you ever considered this...after Jesus performed the miracle of feeding the 5000 people with only a few fish and some bread, do you think the folks sat around looking like they just heard a funeral dirge? I think not! I'll bet they were celebratory! I think we should be celebrating in church. Well heck, I think it's an even bigger miracle that God is willing to save our pathetic rear ends.

What I'm saying is this...if you are a Christian...have accepted Jesus as your personal savior...then you are on the winning team! If you were on the winning team, why would you look like someone just kicked your dog? Why not live like you know the end of the story?

I smile a lot in church. I tell jokes to people. I laugh out loud. I even say inappropriate things sometimes. I want to let everyone know that I know Who won. The score has already been settled. If I offend you, I'm sorry...but I'm not pretending. How long will it take before Jesus is through working with me? You got me...I dunno...I'm a work in progress.


This photo was my father's personal favorite
depiction of Jesus. It's titled "The Risen Christ
by the Sea". He was joyful.
Don't you think we should be too?

EXTRAvaganza! (or Oops...What Happens When You Forget To Finish Your Blog?)

I started writing this blog yesterday and forgot to finish. I remembered tonight (around 10-ish) but the blog had been scheduled to post at 5 this afternoon. So, you guessed it...photos with no story. What a loser, I am.

At any rate, if you want to see the story behind the photos, go to my facebook page, and look for the EXTRA-vaganza photo album. What? You're not a member of Facebook? Well then hurry up and join and add me as your friend.

See ya there.

What Coulda Been (Snapperlicious)

When I created the character of Pete on "Reality...", I was trying to be real...trying to be authentic...and I'm confident that I was. However, if I would have had access to this video, things might have turned out little differently. This is the really real McCoy, if you asked me.

Only In the Mind's Eye

I'm afraid this is me...in my mind's eye...



Thank goodness I take vitamins!

The Champ and the Chump

I have to brag. My baby, Angie to be exact, won her division in the University Mile race today! How about my girl?!?!

She's been running and training off and on since she was released by her doctor back in 2001. She had to lose more than 50 pounds to return to her pre-illness weight. Most of the weight gain could be attributed to steroids that the doctor prescribed during her illness. For those who don't know about the rare disease Angie encountered, please refer to my blog back in August. Here's a link for those who are interested.

http://pard1959.blogspot.com/2008/08/heaven-must-be-little-like-powdered.html

Now back to my bragging. She ran in this same race last year and finished 3rd in her age group. But not this year! She poured on the coals and won it by three seconds. I've attached a copy of her plaque. Plus, she can now safely say that she...a champ...is married to a chump...me. I'm so proud of her!

You Gotta Love This

Why America Should Be Worried

I've seen many elections over my lifetime, and I can honestly say...we should be worried. The audio clip is from a radio show that I don't listen to nor do I respect the "star" of the show. However, he and his crew drove a point home the other day and I thought it was interesting. My fear is that they could have done this to the other candidate's constituency and the results would have been similar. It worries me that too many in America are like dumb, driven cattle...following the herd. Have you ever seen Jay Leno's segment called "Jaywalking"? Some folks can't even name the current president or vice president?!? But guess what? They're voting!

So here's my advice. Don't be a follower...be a student. A follower will follow blindly...just like the people on the radio segment. It surprised me that they don't know what their candidate stands for. In contrast, a student follows a teacher; but the student always maintains an inquisitive mind. He is always sifting through the information...looking for the truth...looking for a better way. By doing so, the student doesn't become another brick in the wall.

The Elephant Ate My Homework

You wanna talk about the mind wandering? My mind does the same thing that this guy's mind did...only I've been able to corral my thoughts and keep them from being published. I have to admit, the guy had a point. If an elephant was really in the way, then the object wouldn't go very far.

Why Didn't I Think Of That?

Another creative answer on a test. Knowing me, I would have tried to fill in all four lines with bull butter...but not this guy.

I'd Give It a "C"

One of my buddies sent me copies of some creative answers to actual tests. All of them were funny, but I really thought the guy that penned the one below hit the nail on the head. He probably made an "F" 'cause his teacher was a woman. But I'd have given him a "C" ... for creativity.

Boat For Sale

One Saturday morning a few months back, I got up early, dressed quietly, made my lunch, slipped quietly into the carport to hook the boat up to the van, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.

The wind was blowing 50 mph. I pulled back into the carport, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad throughout the day.

I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. There, I cuddled up to my wife's back...but now with a different anticipation. I whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."

My loving wife of 24 years replied, "Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that mess?"

I still don't know to this day if she was joking, but I've stopped fishing. Anybody want to buy a boat?

Live To Eat or Eat To Live

I'm sitting here typing this goofy blog thinking, "I wish I would have had time to cook steak sandwiches for Angie and me tonight." I ran out of time near the end of my workday, which is par for the course. When I woke Angie up, I asked her if she wanted me to start cooking and try to get it ready before she left for work. She said, "No, just go get something from a drive-through."

I think she could sense the anxiousness in my voice. I ran out of time today...and I had a mental melt-down. We had big plans to saute' some onions and bell peppers with some steak strips...melt some cheese over the top...place it on some hoagie buns...and eat til we were stuffed. I'm getting hungry thinking about them right now.

But Angie and I are diametrically opposed when it comes to food. Simply put, Angie eats to live...I live to eat. Maybe that's why she's so skinny and I've got a spare tire. I wonder if God put us together to balance each other out.

On a side note, when I woke Angie this afternoon, she looked exactly like she did when I married her. She was 19 years old! She's still as beautiful today as the first day I laid eyes on her. So, what's my new mantra? Eat to live...eat to live...eat to live...eat to live. Do you mind passing me a steak hoagie while I chant?

Hey, Mark...Old Buddy, Old Pal

{This is my second submission in a weekly series on the financial crisis here in America. I want this to be an honest account of why we are where we are based on my tiny perspective of the mortgage/housing debacle.}

Have you ever had someone call you and pretend like they knew you? You know, like you're long, lost buddies? I'm sure most have y'all have experienced it at one time or another. But usually, it's because someone is making a telemarketing sales call. (I wish I could send an electric shock through the phone to telemarketers. Oh well.)

I get just as many telemarketers calling me as the next guy. But how would you like to have mortgage companies calling you...offering you appraisal business...but doing it just like the smarmy telemarketer? After a few dozen of those calls, you want to go take a shower.

Well in case you just woke up this week, America is in the middle of a huge financial crisis. Part of the problem has been subprime mortgages which are now in default. Subprime mortgages were mortgages offered to borrowers who are typically higher risks to repay the loan. The folks could have had bankruptcies, had a history of slow or no payments on loans, or simply had limited credit history. Enter the subprime lenders. Take my word for it, dealing with them was like dancing with the devil.

Let's take this hypothetical example of what would happen once a risky borrower contacted the subprime lender. A borrower, Joe Sucker, is having problems making payments on his house, on his new truck, and is maxed out on four or more credit cards. Sucker recieves a letter in the mail from Unethical Lending. The letter offers a low mortgage rate and a promise to help him out of his current troubles. So Sucker calls Unethical Lending. Unethical takes financial info from Sucker and this is a synopsis:

Mortgage on house: $80,000
Loan on truck: $15,000
Credit Card A: $ 5,675
Credit Card B: $ 4,450
Credit Card C: $ 6,800
Credit Card D: $ 3,500

Total: $115,425

Unethical immediately picks up the phone and calls an appraiser. The conversation might go something like this:

UL: Hey, Mark...how have you been, buddy? Remember, you helped me on one about a month ago. Man, you did a great job on that last one...really fast. Thanks! Hey, I think I have another one in your area. Before I send it, do you think you could pull some comps? (Let me take this opportunity to explain that "comps" are similar sales in a neighborhood that are used on appraisals to determine market value. When a lender calls for comps over the phone, they want the appraiser to determine the value of a house without ever looking at it. They "fish" for comps so they can determine if they can get enough value out of the house to cover Sucker's loans before they spend any time on the case.)

Mark: Well, I don't give comps over the phone. That would be similar to you calling your doctor and asking him if he thought you were running fever. I can tell you what sales have closed in a neighborhood, if that'll help you.

UL: Yeah, well Mr. Sucker's house is located on 123 Low Demand Street and he said he just renovated the whole house. He's got 2000 square feet in it, a double carport, and 1 acre of land.

Mark: I don't want to know anything about Mr. Sucker's house. Let me just look at sales in his neighborhood. Let's see, ten houses have sold in his neighborhood within the last year. They range from $75,000 to $125,000.

UL: Oh, cool! So you think you could get like $130,000 on Mr. Sucker's house...since he renovated it, huh? Well, really, to make this work, I need $135,000.

Mark: No, I didn't say that. I said the highest sale in the neighborhood was $125,000. It had over 1900 heated square feet and it was recently updated with a new kitchen.

UL: Ok, good...I think we're in good shape here. I'll send the request to you in a few minutes. Remember now, I need $135,000 on this one...$138,000 would really be great.

Well, I get a request to appraise Mr. Sucker's house and I drive to the house to perform an inspection. I find Mr. Sucker's house to be a dwelling with 1500 square feet (didn't someone say 2000?) and it's below average condition (huh...thought it was renovated) and it's located on a typical 75' by 150' lot (1 acre???). Floor covers are dated and worn, the walls and ceilings in most rooms need to be painted, the kitchen...I wouldn't eat there, and the central air conditioner is running on its last leg. Mr. Sucker states that he just repainted his kid's bedroom (oh, there's the renovation). Mr. Sucker just so happens to have an appraisal by one of my competitors...one of the good ole boys that make deals work. The other guy's value...$115,000...three months ago. That's $76.67 per square foot...$10 per square foot more than the highest sale in the neighborhood. I'm thinking, "Why didn't he call that guy again? Oh yeah, he needs more this time. What was that other appraiser smoking?"

Unethical needs a high appraisal in order to consolidate all of Sucker's debt. When the market was rising at a steady rate, many people took advantage of it. I did. Plus, mortgage rates were low enough to make the loan packages worthwhile. Who wouldn't want to lower their monthly housing payment and pay off some credit cards to boot? Unfortunately, many lenders "backed into" the amount needed. Rather than telling the borrower what they needed to hear, the lenders got used to telling the borrowers what they wanted to hear. Like this: "If we can get the appraisal to come in at $135,000, we can pay off most of your bills." Now the borrower has a real incentive to "sweet talk" the appraiser into giving him a "good" appraisal. (By the way, a "good" appraisal usually means that it will match whatever number is needed. It does not mean that the appraisal is truthful, factual, or realistic.)

I get back to the office and call Unethical Lending. I tell them that the house would be lucky to appraise for $90,000 in the condition that it's in. Guess what the lender does next? He picks up the phone and starts the process again...looking for an appraiser that will make his deal work. Chances are, he will find one. These lenders go through a process of finding an appraiser that will always "hit the number". They aren't really looking for an appraisal, though. They are looking for a report written by an certified appraiser that will match whatever magical number they need to make the loan. These lenders, predatory in nature, eventually find exactly what they are looking for. They are like water...they find the path of least resistance. The appraisers that wind up working with them don't really perform appraisals...they take orders. In real life, these appraisers put people upside-down in their houses. In other words, the people wind up owing more on the house than it's worth. I don't know how these appraisers and lenders sleep at night. Sadly, some of these folks might be your friends...your neighbors...or even people that go to church with you.

Some of the best advice I ever got from Angie's father was this: "Beware the man that shakes your hand while he pisses on your leg." Understand? Some people act like they want to help you but don't have your best interest in mind.

If it makes you feel any better, the subprime market crashed and burned over a year ago. I don't get those types of calls anymore. I don't miss those guys either. What scares the heebie-geebies out of me now is I just learned that the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) is poised to replace the subprime market with FHA loans. Oh good, let's put more on the government's back.

Here's an article for further reading:

http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601109&sid=a0PEnjbC3YMI&refer=home

5K or Bust

Yesterday I entered my first 5K race. I planned on starting slow and steady and trying to hang with Angie. Well, I did that for about 4 minutes; and then I was winded. I told Ange that I needed to walk, so we took about a one-minute walk to let me recover.

Ange didn't have to stay with me but she did; and it cost her in the end. After the minute was up, she asked if I would be upset if she ran ahead. My response, "Of course not."

So, off she took. I tried to stay constant with what we've been running around our neighborhood. Unfortunately, yesterday was not my day. I struggled. I struggled running. I struggled walking. I kept thinking, "I'll never make it the end of this thing without some assistance." But I kept going.

Angie finished 2nd in her age group. She even won a medal for her effort. But I want everyone to know that she would have won first place in her age group if she wouldn't have hung with me at the beginning. Walking with me for that minute cost her first place. I'm very proud of her, though!

The race inspired me too. Later in the day, Angie and I mapped out a new course to run that is exactly 5K (3.1 miles). Our normal pattern is only 2.7 miles. Lord willing, I'm going to get better...and maybe be able to hang with this youngster I married. See you at the starting line.

Say It Ain't So, Joe

Do you know, before December 2006, I had never acted on stage. Wait. I take that back. In my sixth grade class at St. Christopher's, I was in a play. I had a couple of lines in an uncredited role.

"The shield, the shield! Look at King Arthur's shield!"

Yeah...sadly I remember it. It was around 1970 or '71. How can anyone remember something so insignificant from that far back? I dunno.

What made me remember that? I guess I should explain. I just watched an "insider's" show on how "Friends", the TV show, was cast.

It made me think of the few characters I've portrayed. Certainly, I don't deserve to be on Broadway, making films in Hollywood, or even on TV. (I sure would like to try.) But in my own self-assessment, I wondered....

How good am I?

And it dawned on me.

The most memorable characters are the ones where the actor and the character became synonymous.

Can you imagine Chandler Bing without Matthew Perry. He wasn't the first actor offered the part...try Jon Cryer of "Two and a Half Men". How about Courtney Cox as Monica. Not the first one to read for it. In fact, it was offered first to Janeane Garofalo before Courtney. Ex-squeeze me? How about Barney Fife without Don Knotts? How about Lloyd and Harry without Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels?

I could probably bore you with another 20 minutes of useless, albeit interesting, information about who could or should have been cast in this role or that. But I won't.

My hope is that I haven't found my "defining" role yet. Don't get me wrong. I loved portraying Uncle Billy, Coach Dunbar, Vinnie, Pete Fox, Spats, and Lt. Blunt. But, now that I'm playing Tony Alto, it makes me wonder...

Have I already portrayed my "defining" role? Have I already done my best work? I sure hope not.

The thing to remember about "Friends", like it or not, is the fact that it was an "ensemble" cast. No one actor was given more, or less, credit than the others. The whole is greater than sum of its parts, right?

That's what I like about the dinner theater productions. No one actor is given higher billing than another. We are a TEAM. We work together...no stars...no divas...just a group pulling together to make it happen, cap'n. Not to mention that it's fun as all get out!

I love acting! I love creating characters that are memorable. I wish I could shake the hand or hug the neck of every actor/actress that has moved me emotionally. I guess I'd be standing in line for the rest of my life. The neat thing about the dinner theater...I get to "beer me five" with folks that move me every rehearsal or at every performance. Yes, say it IS so, Joe...'cause I'm loving every minute of it.

Knock Out

I get so tickled...no, make that ticked off, when I hear both Democrats and Republicans claiming they threw a "knock out" punch during a debate. We, the public, decides...not a bunch a spin doctors. But to quickly change subjects...or am I? I want to talk about getting knocked out.

I've been knocked out at least 4 times in my life. No, not from boxing or fighting. Different stories, different situations. I figured I'd take this blog to tell you about the first time the lights went out in my head.

I grew up in a neighborhood that was priceless. For all of my young readers out there, the movie that has reminded me the most of my own experience growing up was "The Sandlot". Similar to the movie, we had a "gang" mentality and there was a definite pecking order. But we were all part of the "team". However, unlike the movie, our game was football.



My house was not the biggest in the neighborhood, but we did have the biggest yard. The house was built on a corner lot and it covered two lots. Every weekend during the fall, there was a either a tackle or "touch" football game being played in my front yard. (For those not well-versed in "touch" football, you tackle the player with the ball by touching him or her. The rule could be altered each game. Sometimes it would be touch the player with 2 hands under the belt...sometimes it was touch the player with one hand anywhere. We usually accommodated to the weakest player to ensure parity.)

Well, the day of my first knock-out, we weren't playing in my yard. A game had begun one block away in another kid's ditch. (Ever heard of playing in the trenches?) It was a 4-on-4 game...tackle. I don't remember many specifics about the game anymore, but I do remember the last play I made...going out for a pass...wide receiver in the ditch. Now it's important for me to tell you that any time a game was being played, kids showed up that either wanted to play in the game or wanted to watch. On this particular day, a kid that we all called "Dowboy" was present. ("Dowboy" rhymes with cowboy...not dough-boy. I couldn't tell you Dowboy's real name if my life depended on it. By the way, everybody in my neighborhood had a nickname. It was like a badge of honor. No nickname...you weren't in.)



Well Dowboy was fat. (Sorry, is that politically incorrect? Nowadays, he would be considered "husky". Take my word for it, he was FAT.) Dowboy was a likeable kid...same age as me...but I'll bet he outweighed me by 50 pounds...in sixth grade. No one invited him into the game, but Dowboy wanted to play. So, what did he do? He entered the game unannounced. I'm running down the middle of the ditch with nothing in between me and the imaginary goal but a few blades of grass...or at least that's what I thought. I remember looking back over my shoulder and yelling "here" as I held up my arms and flew through the defense. I remember the football leaving the quarterback's hand...spiraling in slow motion...reaching out to catch it...the surprised look on the defensive players' faces as I ran uncovered down the middle of the ditch...

But the weird thing about what I remember...well, what I CAN remember is...it's in black in white.

I don't remember the collision. I don't remember much more than a dozen or so kids standing around me in a circle afterwards. I do remember one of the kids saying, "Whoa, that was cool!" Without my knowledge, Dowboy had entered the game and decided to intercept my pass. He was running full speed in a northerly pattern...I was running full speed in a southerly pattern. We collided in the ditch and, (I can't vouch for this part of the story), I did an endo. What's an "endo"? When an object rolls in an end-over-end motion similar to tumbling in gymnastics.

I remember thinking, "This is like a dream." "Wait a minute, did I just dream that?" "No this is really happening." "Where am I?" "Why is everyone standing around me in a circle?" "Why is everyone in black and white?" Surreal moments...

I don't remember how I got home. However, my next recollection is being at home...lying on a cot in the den. I slightly remember my mom and dad desperately trying to reach a doctor, via the phone, to find out what to do. The doctor's advice..."Don't let him go to sleep. It's probably a concussion." "Yeah, right. I've got a headache from hell and you don't want me to go to sleep?" So, they made small talk with me and put my favorite TV shows on. (I think we had a choice between channel 8 or channel 10 back then...and that was it!)

Well, they kept me up and my headache went away. One lasting problem, though. I've been afraid of running full speed in a ditch while looking over my shoulder ever since.

Go figure.

Slow But Steady

After the Strauss production of "Sugar", I began walking/running and eating smaller portions. Now, after several months, I have lost more than 20 pounds. I'm not through yet. I want to lose another 20 pounds within the next year.



When I started my exercise routine, I could only walk...briskly. Running was out of the question. After a month or so, Angie encouraged me to run one block, walk one block. So I tried. I'm telling you this has not been easy to get this fat body back in shape.

But this morning, I broke another barrier! When I first started running, I set as a goal to complete the 2.7-mile trek in under 30 minutes. We crushed that goal a week ago. But today...Angie and I ran/walked the 2.7 miles in under 29 minutes! That's approximately a mile in every 10.5 minutes. Now, I realize that I'm not setting the world on fire, but it sure feels good to accomplish something that I've been working on for several months. Watch out Usain Bolt...you're next.

Muahahahaha....muahahahaha....muahahahaha