Welcome to Chez Cliff!

A couple of months appear to have been lost . . .

The decision was made.  The houses are being kept.  The next step was to complete the refi, get money and move onto the next project.  Based on the last refi, a month was a reasonable estimate for the refi to go through.

But it didn’t.

Opening the mortgage bill from my bank depressed me.  As long as bills are coming, the refi isn’t being pushed through.  Now instead of shopping in December, it’s been pushed to January.

When I called to find out why the refi was taking so long, I was told that the old argument has come back: the appraiser doesn’t want to raise the value of the property based on his drive-by.  Can you believe that?  It’s almost as if the last two months didn’t exist.

I don’t remember saying that I needed the value to be increased.  There’s more than enough equity to get the next project rolling.  Even if he did raise the value 10 or 20 thousand, I couldn’t borrow it even with both houses rented out.  So I can’t figure out why this old argument has come back to the surface.

The argument given is that we still have a few weeks on the old appraisal before it expires.  If the appraiser can be convinced that he "low-balled" the value then we’ll be that much further ahead.

Ahead of what?

This is where my "annoyance meter" starts ringing.  I set expectations by telling the people what I want to get done.  They say "Yes" and go off, doing something else.  While I’ve been told more times than I can remember the people working for me are good, I just can’t grasp the fact that I’m not in charge of my project. 

If I’m going to make a mistake, let me make it.  But all this independent action, without any communication, is driving me nuts.

The only thing I can do for the moment is sit tight.  And that’s the last thing I want to do.

**Continued from yesterday**

The spurn of people to move into the world of finance has produced a myriad of seminars to aid humanity in it’s quest to become rich.

One of these I nearly got sucked into. 

During the height of the real-estate frenzy, commercials filled the airwaves of Southern California.  Some man claimed "You don’t have to pay taxes!"  All I had to do was attend his free seminar and he would "Repackage" me.

Within the converted sanctuary, the usher showed my two cohorts and I to our seats.  Right up front, near the middle.  It didn’t take long before it was standing room only.

When the organ fired up and the choir started singing, Ray Reynolds stormed the stage with the pentecostal zest of a man on a mission.  Before long the audience, including myself, was clapping and singing.

Ray Reynolds opened his bible, affectionately called "Repackage America".  The virtues and benefits of owning a Nevada Corporation were bestowed upon his flock.  His details were very light, full of vagueness.  When I looked confused by the lack of details, Pastor Ray rebuked me.  The "demons of doubt" had plagued this young man and Pastor Ray was there to set me free.

As we broke into the third chorus of "Shall we gather at the river", Pastor Ray introduced us to Saul.  Saul was a homeless man, living in a car in a junk yard.  Using the techniques described in "Repackage America" Pastor Ray raised Saul from financial death.  He was now living in the mansion that Bennifer would purchase a few years later.  Pastor Ray proclaimed Saul had seen the light.  His new name was now Paul.

And all the believers in the house said "AMEN!"

With a pounding fist on the pulpet, Pastor Ray screamed in a violent fury that he wanted to save us all from the valley of the shadow of financial death.  All we had to do was pay $2499 - No, cross that out.  All we had to do was pay $1499 - no, cross that out.  For the unbelievable, "today only" price of $699 we could attend his Saturday seminar.  At that seminar, he would get us on the right track and save our souls from financial damnation.

HALLELUJAH!

The congregation blitzkrieg-ed the stage: checkbooks waving, credit cards flying.  A pair of panties were thrown on stage.  The deacons nearly worked their fingers to the bone, punching in all the numbers on their credit card machines. 

In the middle of this mayhem was yours truly.  Oh yes, Pastor Ray had convinced me he could save my eternally damned financial soul.  As I reached into my pocket, my wallet wasn’t there.  Where was my check book?!?

Oh, that’s right.  My checkbook and credit cards were locked away at home.  I knew I would be stupid enough to purchase whatever Pastor Ray wanted to sell me.  Even the financial prayer hanky, stained with Pastor Ray’s sweat, was beyond my means.

I left the revival, heart broken.  But alas, fate shined down on me.  One of the cohorts that came with me, a woman, decided to purchase the seminar.  She offered to take copious notes.  If I, along with 6 other people, would chip in a small amount of money we could get copies of everything.  Why not?  Financial heaven awaited!

The following Saturday, the seminar started at 1:00 p.m.  When my cell phone chirped at 2:00 p.m, I was stunned. 

Clifford:  That’s all?
Woman:  That’s everything.
Clifford:  He didn’t at least give you a book?
Woman:  He gave us this . . .
Clifford:  This is just 20 xeroxed pages, stapled together.  Most of it I can’t read!
Woman:  Yep.
Clifford:  There’s not a lot here.
Woman:  All he did was read from this book.
Clifford:  He mentions getting a "Dunn and Bradstreet" number.  What is that?  And how do we get one?
Woman:  I don’t know.
Clifford:  You didn’t ask?
Woman:  We weren’t allowed to ask.
Clifford:  Why not?
Woman:  We weren’t allowed to ask questions.  If we want to ask questions, we have to attend the second seminar.  That costs $1299.
Clifford:  A second seminar?  Are you kidding me?
Woman:  There’s a third one as well.
Clifford:  So for $100, I’m getting a copy of a copy of 20 pages and nothing really tangible I can use.

What is scary:  People actually attended the second and third seminar of "Repackage America".

As a final note for today’s blog entry, I asked Lord Google for the "Repackage America" website.  I know Pastor Ray has one out there.  However, the firewall where I work immediately sprang up and said this website was blocked because of questionable content.

You may interpret that anyway you wish.

**This article is being broken up over the next few days.  An article in Barron’s that summed up my feelings on this certain topic.  Inspiration hit and here is the results.**

I remember the day that someone handed me a copy of "Rich Dad, Poor Dad".  The book took two days for me to swallow and another two days to re-read.  The book spoke to me on a level that no other book did.  The rush that warmed my soul couldn’t be compared to any narcotic sold on the street.

Not that I speak from personal knowledge.  Just accept it and let’s move on.

Afterward, I was thrilled to discovered that Kiyosaki had written more books on this topic.  I bought them all.  The "CashFlow Quadrant" and the "Guide to Investing" were devoured almost as fast as the first book.  The buzz was still with me and I wanted that same feeling to continue.

As any avid Kiyosaki fan will tell you, the CashFlow 101 game is really pushed in his books.  A game that teaches me about life?  Sign me up!  Monopoly costs about $30 so CashFlow will probably be in the same ballpark.  Well, if your ball park is as big as Kansas it may actually be applicable.  The CashFlow game hung out at $200.  My wallet closed as fast as it had opened.

The argument I heard was the game teaches you and that alone is worth the price.  I remember in college the Freshmen Psychology class I was forced to take was also suppose to teach me something.  One thousand dollars later, I still can’t tell you why Pavlov teased those poor dogs.

I couldn’t justify spending $200 on a board game.  Granted something could be learned from it.  However, the entire reason why I got his first book was because my finances were in the toilet.  I was financially illiterate.  And now the financial guru who was on a crusade to "elevate the financial well-being of humanity" had already received $50 from me (for three books) and was now asking for another $200.

Who’s financial well-being are we elevating?

But wait!  There’s more.

The CashFlow 202 game, a more life-like version of 101, was released and it was at the low price of $100: half the price of CashFlow 101.  But you need 101 in order to play 202.

Wait!  Act now and you can purchase the "Rich Dad Advisor Series" which consists of 5 or 6 books highlighting different areas to improve your financial well-being.

And that’s not all!  Ladies, feeling left out?  How about the "Rich Woman" series just for you?  From the brain-child of Kiyosaki, his wife Kim has jumped into the act with her collection of books just for women.  Her series has now expanded to include a DVD and a workbook for an additional $50!  But don’t worry.  If the sun is beating down, you can watch the DVD clearly with your "Rich Woman" visor for the unbelievably low price of $25!!

Now Donald is in on the act?  Seminars to hear Kiyosaki speak for only $99?

I like Kiyosaki.  I like his ideas, his theories.  But I’m forced to wonder how many people have purchased every book, every item with the Kiyosaki name on it yet have put none of his theories into practice?

Do people purchase all his merchandise because it makes them feel good?

It is with sincere wishes that I hope everyone enjoyed the past few days of vacation.  I enjoyed them probably a bit too much.  I suffered the worst case of bed-head ever.

This weekend I completely unplugged; giving my brain a much needed rest.  The good news is it’s now hungry.

I’ll be back tomorrow.