I’m going to write about something I’ve never written about before. I’ve always considered it too boring and uninteresting.

I want to write about refinancing.

Is there anything more mundane than refinancing a mortgage? It is perhaps the very definition of bourgeois. It means you have a large, immovable possession that roots you to a place. BUT EVEN MORE, it means that you have had that large immovable possession for a long time.

Many, many people have the same situation. It is not a terribly adventurous or creative thing to accomplish.

People who refinance are the same sort of people who stop and go next to me in the pod-o-mobiles on the way through the 20-mile-an-hour-stop-and-go traffic. These people are the same people who wear the business casual clothes from Target and Mervyn’s that I wear.

These people are the demographic. These people are the satisfied—the well-fed who worry mostly about which people they didn’t manage to sleep with. I worry mostly that I am becoming one of these people.

I don’t want to be like everyone else. I want to be free-thinking and artistic and unique. I think about this as I chose my business casual clothes each day. And as I surge slowly through the cattle drive of rush hour traffic.

But I am doing a refinance. This is something none of the bourgeois enjoy doing.

We—dare I say it? —We don’t enjoy all the small print and the thinking of what it means. And are we getting screwed? How many itemizations have we forgotten to compare?

I’ve discovered that there are “packages.” There are tables and specials and the things that the mortgage brokers are selling.

I looked into it. I compared. I figured out exactly what I want. I found a lender who will give it to me.

Of course, I had to compare against other lenders. But no one has a “package” for what I want. In fact, while shopping for my refinance, I discovered that most of the lenders couldn’t even do what I want. They were so surprised that I asked for that particular type of loan, that I started to doubt my research.

I asked Chris about it. “Why is it so surprising to these people? Did I do the math wrong?”

“You are asking the lenders. Who do you think is benefiting from the packages they are trying to sell you? You did the research.” He gave me a squeeze and said, “You’re smarter than the average bear.”


That makes me feel a little less of a sheep in the bourgeois herd. I guess if I can do an avant-gard refinance, I can’t be too off my mark

physical limitations

Is it just my stupid job? Or is it the whole of life?

This is what I learn from the eggheads. It’s true, I’m not kidding.

If I start out at Point A. A dot, a spot, a point of beginning. I determine that I want to get from Point A to Point B.

No problem, right? I can see how simple it is. I set my course for a straight line between A and B.

But the eggheads chime in again. There are an INFINITE number of points between point A and point B.

NO END, EVER EVER EVER to all the stopping places on the way between my start and my goal.

and me…I want to stretch my strong motion muscles and go fast and full speed to B

I want to B!

Wait, no, wait. There is a reason I must stop. And as I resolve that stop, then another appears.

and they never end.

This is a law of physics. An infinite number.