aging · AS · Bad Faith · Building Contractor Scam · Civil Court · Class · Criminal Organizations · Disaster · documents analyses · Economic Anger · ethnography · fraud · gentrification · Homeless People · Homeownership · housing · Insurance · Insurance Claims · Insurance Scam · Law · observations · Paralegal Studies · power · Probate Housing Creditors Mortgages Mortgage Fraud · racism · social observation · trauma

What I’ve Lost

I am certain it is not clear to you the extent of my loss. The lemon tree that took 19 years to bear fruit; buried atop my son’s placental home; planted by my mother who died in my son’s nineteenth year in her bedroom, in the house I’d lived in all my life-she knew him, she helped birth him, she drove like a javelin to Santa Monica, to the converted farmhouse that served as a freestanding birthing center, ensuring his literal birth in a barn. This lemon tree was cut down…by the subcontractor…who is now dead.

My son grew up in that house. He called it a crapshack because he was, in childhood, quite gangling and sometimes ungainly. He was forever stubbing his toes. It was a cottage. It couldn’t be helped that he was a bull in a china shop. Nevertheless, that crapshack was his childhood home and the satellite around which we wove our travels in the world.

We built, my mother and I, a library in that house. Venice thrift shops provided much of our largesse.  We collected, and read, hundreds of books. Destroyed, now, many of them, the bookcase standing in the yard with many of my other klediments.

I knew the man who built my crapshack, by hand. He was a JW. His name was Elmer Lambert. His wife’s name was Ima. I remember they had a daughter, but might also have had a son. The house was a one-bedroom cottage with hardwood floors, built in cabinetry, a counter between front room and kitchen that could be used as a table, serving area, and lookout point. The front door boasted a barn-door type window, giving an unimpeded view of the front and side yard. The doorway was wider than average.

All the doors in my house, save the front entry, opened to the left. Behind the door to the bedroom, Mom had built a linen closet to house our dishtowels, cuptowels, bath towels, sheets, small blankets, some small kitchen appliances. The left-opening door, when left open, provided cover for the cabinet.

I had to step down once into the kitchen. I had a white ceramic sink that was deep, and boasted knobs for hot and cold. It was a piece of a countertop, cookware storage, and under the sink storage unit. Facing the sink, my stove was to my right. I had hooks, hangers, cabinets on the upper walls to the left; a hanger for mugs, a couple of places to hang dish towels. Had a mirror mounted in there, and a light. The large rectangular window above me provided morning light from the east.

I love to cook. My son loves to cook, but he has to have a whole lot of room and prep area. Me? I can whip up something palatable with a couple of burners, but it gets monotonous. I’ve been living like poverty for over a year now with a gas stove that is not connected to the gas line because the contractor left the line capped, providing no connector. There are many gas lines under this structure because a gas line was run to operated the gas dryer I do not have and to the hot water heater that was placed alongside the “driveway” because this structure was built without plans.

The flooring in the bathroom is mushy and feels about to give way at any moment; there’s a leak somewhere, likely because the shower was not installed properly and was not sealed. I have no warranties, even thought I was promised three years of warranties by Safeco Liberty Mutual if only I worked with their preferred contractor.

I had a back door, through which I could generate cross-ventilation, get to my back yard easily. I still have the t-poles for my clothesline, but my undamaged workshop was torn down to make way for a “garage”. There was a scheme to turn my verdant paradise into a heat island, bordered by asphalt and cement. My yard was full of green and flowering plants, including succulents, bougainvillea, lavender, night-blooming jasmine, honeysuckle, a variety of roses. This in an area zoned for livestock and farming. I live in the County of Los Angeles. There are horses here. There are chickens here. There are nurseries here. But the County is gentrifying, which brings me to my property tax status.

In California, in Los Angeles County, in 2015, my property taxes were ~$650 per year. Now, in 2019, my property taxes have tripled. This job, done by Vince Paglia, was accomplished by tearing down my 1923 hand built Rambler home. I had a workshop in the back yard with a waist-high, full-length hard wood worktable. There were shelves that I remember saving magazines in because of the vertical dividers in the cabinet. There were shelves and cubbyholes on the walls. There was a great, heavy wooden drawer, that I possess still, that fit into the worktable. Vince Paglia tore down my workshop, the unpermitted expansion that was used for storage to put up a parking lot and I don’t eeeven have a car.

I miss Segovia. Segovia was a death cactus that grew in a ring of tires. Segovia was very tall, perhaps 7′-8′, and bloomed at night. When in bloom, Segovia’s scent wafted over the yard, blending with the night-blooming jasmine, sometimes the honeysuckle and lavender very faintly. Segovia provided most of the privacy in my back yard, grown along with the honeysuckle that grew on the fence. When Mama Gin lived next door, she was a homeowner who worked for the IRS. Her son served in the Air Force. Her daughter was a flit. She and Mom shared the care of the trees planted along the property lines between the houses. Mr. Lambert took care of most general maintenance, but Mom was pretty handy with tools.  Mom and I took care of the gardening and yard maintenance when I was growing up.

I remember Mr. Lambert gave me my first nickname. He called me Sputnik because I was his satellite as he worked about the place, prattling to him with my 2 or 3 year old self. Ima, Mrs. Lambert, always offered me fruit. I grew up kindly towards the JWs because I grew up with experience of the Lamberts.

I used to play and work in my workshop. I haven’t been able to use my spinning wheels because the inadequate garage is packed to the gills with my household goods. I haven’t been able to unpack because the house is now smaller, configured differently, has not even a closet, though a one-bedroom, one-bathroom was paid for. More than $80K was given to Paglia for goods not in this structure. I wish I did have the vent-free, infra-red heaters for which he received pay. I wish I had my back door. I wish the attic vents had been installed instead of the fire sprinklers for which I have no instruction manual. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with these things because I never had them in my home before.

Vince Paglia and Kent Stiles of Safeco Liberty Mutual have put me in a bad way, I tell you what. I learned from reading the legal bric-a-brac that your insurance provider is not supposed to leave you any worse off than you were before you filed your homeowner’s claim. Maybe this is why Stiles has changed my claim number from 12-digit number to 22-digit number, and when I call to inquire about this claim number that I don’t recognize, no one else recognizes it either.  This brand new claim number is recorded on my claim history with the databases that record such data and hold it for seven years, along with the date of loss of every claim I’ve ever allegedly filed with Safeco Liberty Mutual, the cause of said loss, and the amount paid out to mitigate the loss. This brand new to me claim number even says my loss was caused by water. Imagine, the insurance company is recording false information; my loss was caused by the wind.

If my claim settled and paid out $48K under one claim number, why are $430K and $439K recorded under that new claim number as the amount paid out on those official records? Those records can impact the premium I’ll have to pay for insurance when I manage to escape from Safeco Liberty Mutual.

I have referred to the scam through which I’ve been put as GASLIGHTING. I hate being gaslighted, especially by a corporation that should have a fiduciary responsibility towards me, the insured, who paid premiums, on time, since 2011. Instead of being appreciated, I’ve been robbed.

I believe Safeco Liberty Mutual and Paglia and Associates do not appreciate the severe loss they have caused me. I think the dead contractor kindled the wrath, though….

aging · Class · Community · ethnography · excess death · Homeless People · racism · trauma · white supremacy

Causes of Black Excess Death

A friend sent me a video in Messenger that detailed many of the ways you can end up dead in America if you happen to have been born Black. It stung me. It is the 21st C. and we are still with this white supremacist bullshit.

The video made me think about Emmett, that and an article I read by Dr. GS Potter, who seems to be a phantom, about why we can’t automatically believe all women when they cry sexual assault victim. I thought about the parallels I drew between Emmett Till and Tom Robinson in To Kill a Mockingbird. Both dead as a result of doing something ordinary, both dead because of the believed white woman’s word.

When I feel more composed I will figure out how to embed the video. I want to have the ability to watch it several times. Emmett Till died as a result of purchasing penny bubble gum. Tom Robinson ended up convicted and dead because he offered kindness to a poor white girl, abused by her father and sneered at by the townies. Philando Castile hurts all the more because he was riding in his girlfriend’s car with a young girl child in the back seat, because he’s dead and mother and daughter are traumatized how many ways ’til Sunday?

Doing mundane things can get you killed in America if you are visibly Black. Sandra Bland is dead because she allegedly didn’t signal a turn.

What the fuck is this?

HOMELESS PEOPLE. IT IS A VIOLATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS TO TREAT HOMELESS PEOPLE THE WAYS WE DO. DENIAL OF A PLACE TO RELIEVE ONE’S SELF, DENIAL OF WATER, VIOLATIONS OF HUMAN RIGHTS.

Why do we have people living on the streets in large numbers in America and that shit’s okay? We officially have pavement dwellers like those I observed in parts of the Indian subcontinent that were, at the time, suffering large in-migrations of rural people into the cities, looking for work. They lived in the garbage dumps. In America, the area surrounding the homeless is turned into a dump because of lack of access to the basics: a place to cook, a place to squat it out later, a place to lay your head.

Seems so simple, the fix to this. So many rich politicians could afford to house all the homeless people on their many properties. Why do we, the people, allow these conditions affecting people just like you or me, to persist? Are we truly anesthetized? Are we truly that unfeeling? Is there no longer any creature recognition going on?

What the fuck is really going on, people?

In 1955 Money, Mississippi, Black people had a greater chance of being lynched, and of having the lynchers get off because of the low prosecution rates for violent crimes against Blacks, but in support of white female purity and white male superiority. Carolyn Bryant only recently confessed that she lied. Her believed lies got a 14 year old boy tortured, mutilated, slaughtered.

Hikkikomori looking better and better e’er day.

aging · AS · Class · Criminal Organizations · News and politics · observations · power · social observation · trauma

Why I Never Supported HRC

She stood by her man after he disrespected her, their daughter, and the nation. She stayed for the power. That she continues to stand by him in the current climate disturbs me.

She labeled a generation of young people predators, superpredators. Most of those young people were Black and Latinx.

She disrespected her husband’s accusers, did not believe them, implied they lied.

She is a lawyer.

She didn’t fight Obama for the nomination, just handed it over.

She didn’t fight Trump over this rigged election, just closed her mouth, wrote a book, and rakes in the cash.

She is an elite corporatist.

Her DNC is corrupt.

My position is not popular, particularly among this wave of feminists who seem to want to be better men. Nevertheless, for the above reasons, and maybe a few more that I have not let surface, I have never been a supporter of HRC. I wish her well, but I got nothing else for her or her rabid supporters.

 

 

Class · Criminal Organizations · Economic Anger · Homeownership · Insurance · observations · Paralegal Studies · power · Probate Housing Creditors Mortgages Mortgage Fraud · research

Beal has been Paid (Real/Real)

Insurance proceeds totaling more than the amount demanded by Beal Bank/MGC Mortgage, Inc. have been received by the bankruptcy department in Lake Zurich, IL, original handler of my mortgage payments, loan modification requests, originator of requests for Affidavits of Heirship and directions to get title to the property without ever    mentioning probate.

As MGC  Mortgage, Inc. is listed as a lienholder on my homeowner insurance, the checks are made to both of us. I had to endorse the checks and send them to Beal Bank as bankrutcpy payments. It is allegedly illegal for them to take the monies and leave me high and dry for repairs to my home. I want them to continue breaking the law as with them I want no further truck.

However, I expect them to come up with some trick to keep me in bankruptcy and under their thumbs until Rapture. They have managed it this long, portraying me as the irresponsible, underhanded one who failed to report my mother’s death to them until I filed probate. They also claim that they have held this loan from 2003, two years before my mother’s death. These claims are in the court documents, made by attorneys for Beal. In documents from MGC to the FDIC, they admit they had knowledge of my mother’s death from 2008. This makes sense as I paid two other companies for this loan before I began paying MGC Mortgage in 2007-8. Nevertheless, I’m the lie and Andrew Beal is the rich, pretty boy.

We will see . . ..

aging · Class · Criminal Organizations · Disaster · Economic Anger · Homeownership · Insurance · Law · Uncategorized

These Are the Facts (Real/Real)

It took 18 days for my insurance company to respond to my claim. Seems the mortgage company called and changed the pay arrangement I’d made with the insurance company 5 years ago to deduct my insurance payments directly from my bank account. The mortgage company is alleged to have stated they were opening an escrow account and would be paying the insurance from now on. Then, when the bill went unpaid for a couple of months, I received a warning letter that the insurance would cancel shortly. Well, bafflement aside, I paid the insurance in full so that there should be no more problems until time to renew, which is coming soon.

Beal Bank is claiming their interest in the property is not protected by an adequate equity cushion. Wonder what that means as I owe only $44,185.85 as of 7 June 2016 and there is four times that much equity in the property AND the insurance is covering the claim, which will increase the value of the property.

Beal Bank claims they will reach out with possible loan modification options, but we have been over that ground before. Besides, they do not handle home mortgages, according to their Plano TX office and I have already been denied loan modification twice by MGC Mortgage. This backhanded, iffy offer is conditional upon the BK court lifting the stay to foreclose on the property.

Beal Bank will stop at nothing in its attempts to wrest my home from me.

This is what a senior can expect. This is what a veteran can expect. This is what a college graduate can expect.This is what one disabled can expect. This is what the remnants of the middle-class can expect: What you have worked, sweated, struggled, and sacrificed for can be taken away from you, no matter all your playing by the rules, by a corporate entity that can hide behind the law and paperwork. The agencies that are supposed to look out for the consumer are in conflict of interest situations with the oppressors. For example: Beal Bank v FDIC.

There is a 2009 article by Tyler Durdan on the Hypocrisy of the FDIC that I cannot bring up right now, but I will continue to hunt it as Beal Bank is featured in the article.

I have no idea how things are going to turn. After suffering what felt like strange treatment from my insurance company, things have turned there. Seems I had a crooked contractor. His major interest was in money. He was shady from the start, suggesting I move and store my own furniture and pocket the money. Cray-cray. You should have seen my new adjuster swoop in and slay the dragon who lied, came unprepared and incorrect for a woman on her job, a woman of distinctive family heritage, with a good name known for many generations. It was thrilling to watch her work, exposing what I think would have been considered fraud. It is so unfortunate that one cannot conduct business with African-Americans any more. Always come shady lately, if they come at all.

 

 

aging · Class · Community · Criminal Organizations · Economic Anger · Health and wellness · News and politics · Paralegal Studies · Probate · Probate Housing Creditors Mortgages Mortgage Fraud

Banksters vs Hamilton: The Latest (Real/Real)

Filed complaints with Better Business Bureau, Consumer Affairs, CA State Department of Business Oversight, and the young Consumer Financial Protection Bureau http://consumerfinance.gov. I also wrote to Senator Elizabeth Warren as I know her to be a consumer advocate and quite involved in the formation and operation of the CFPB.

My representative from Consumer Affairs had to negotiate with MGC Mortgage, and it was not a pretty affair, but he gained my side a month’s reprieve, in which time MGC Mortgage is supposed to review the loss mitigation documents I submitted. I expect for them to come back with a denial and some excuse that would prevent me from qualifying for loss mitigation, and I’ll be told to do something else. They denied a loss mit app in November 2014 and told me I was not eligible for a loan assumption, though the word lately has been loan assumption whenever I’ve been able to speak to an MGC representative.

Now, thanks to the helpful input of friends and several agencies, I’m on a mission to find the $42,000 owed these people on a $25,500 loan taken out in 1997! Go figure. Maybe I’ll put my GoFundMe page back up…

Simplest way to amend the Probate Code to avoid any more of this type of backdoor theft of real property from consumers by banksters would be to require ALL creditors to make a claim against the Estate of a deceased mortgageholder, thus also requiring all creditors to inform the consumers who notified them of the mortgageholder’s death of their possible need to file probate. Both secured and unsecured creditors should be held to the same standards when a deceased mortgageholder is involved.

aging · AS · Class · Community · Criminal Organizations · Economic Anger · Health and wellness · Paralegal Studies · Probate Housing Creditors Mortgages Mortgage Fraud · research

MGC MORTGAGE, INC. aka DOVENMUEHLE BANK and PROBATE in CALIFORNA (REAL/REAL)

My mother of blessed memory left 10 years ago. She had a mortgage loan with RBC Mortgage or some such. They had purchased the loan from Aames Home Loan when they went under. My mother’s death was reported to this first alphabet soup company, which was only concerned with who was going to pay the mortgage. My name was not on my mother’s loan. Instead of getting me to continue making payments, I should have been told to file probate. Mortgage holders, in California, have to make a claim on the estate of a deceased mortgagee within a year of the death. The first alphabet soup company sold the mortgage to MGC Mortgage, Inc. without, I think, disclosing the facts of my mother’s death, or MGC Mortgage knowingly committed fraud by having me make payments on an account that was not mine and for which I received no credit for 7 years.

No one is responsible for another’s debts unless you signed, co-signed, or in some other way obligated yourself or made yourself responsible for the bill.

How is it, then, that my mother, whose initial loan was $25,500, now owes MGC Mortgage almost twice that amount 10 years after her death? Why is my mother’s credit being shredded 10 years after her death?

In 2012, an employee of the Los Angeles County Tax Assessor’s office told me to file probate in order to transfer title of the property to my name. There really oughta be a manual…. I thank the Great Spirit daily for motivating her to speak, else I would still be being victimized.

Filing probate costs lots of money, but I got her done. Probate was open for 3 years. MGC Mortgage was duly notified of all that was going on. They were the only creditor listed when probate was initially filed. They needed to make a claim within 4 months of receiving my Letters of Administration, if I have interpreted the Code correctly. No claim was made. Probate closed and I was awarded the property. In the summary, it clearly states that no creditor claims were received by either the Court or the Administrator. Case closed, yes?

No. MGC Mortgage is still trying to get money from my mother’s account. They want me to assume a loan that should not exist. They want me to pay more on top of the 7 years worth of payments made by me, and the decades of payments made by my mother on a $25.5K loan.

MGC Mortgage’s legal department seems unfamiliar with the rules of law, Probate Code, and court orders. They have foreclosed on the property, after 10 years of milking the account, and plan to sell on 15 July 2015. I explained to them that they failed to make a claim on the Estate, the property was awarded to me with no stipulations, and they needed to respect that as the Business Oversight Bureau of the great state of California informed me that I have grounds for making a complaint.

Probate is about paperwork and reading the the Code to find applicable information to help transfer property title from the deceased to a new owner; it is work that can be accomplished by a dedicated paralegal.

In the final hour, I received a notice from the Los Angeles County Recorder to contact Consumer Affairs for help in stopping the foreclosure sale of the property. They, too, thought I had to assume the loan or pay MGC Mortgage, but I explained the situation, directed them to the sections of the Code I used to defend my position, and they decided to look further at the problem to see if they can at least help stop the sale.

Update tomorrow.

aging · AS · Class · Community · Criminal Organizations · Economic Anger · ethnography · Health and wellness · Paralegal Studies · research · Sociology

Real/Real

On Thursday, my neighbor of 50 years said to me, “Fuck your mother.” Unfortunately, I wished him the same. However, I think his remark was out of bounds as I only asked him to move his car forward a little bit to make it easier for me to get out of my driveway. We had a screaming fest, heavily laden with expletives, as I mainly parroted back what was shouted at me, as it is not customary for me to be playing the dozens and yelling in the street like a fishmonger’s wife.

So, I’m taking his mother to Small Claims Court to get my $7500. I think I have a great torts case. Got some negligence involved, intentional injury, PTSD, and possible punitive damages. Most important, I have years of supporting documentation. Preliminary research begun. . ..

Class · Community · observations · Sociology

Todos los Dias

Every morning, no matter how I try to avoid it, I am forced to listen to the crazy woman across the street rant, rave, and rail at her children. I believe she is mentally ill. She has referred to herself as a time-bomb, ready to explode. I guess these morning outbursts are the prelude to the major eruption. Is this the new motherhood?

This household is thug central. Too many have died prematurely from this house. Too many from this house have made jail and prison their constant domiciles. Thieves, murderers, drug dealers, gun runners, abusers. These are the fruits of this household’s family tree.

After listening to the morning harangue, which lasts from 30 to 45 minutes, I’m in a mood most foul, and I wonder how the children feel. The past two weeks, for example, I have never heard SB, say good morning, I love you, have a good day. I’ve never heard her ask do you have everything you need, is your homework in your backpack, do you need lunch money? Instead, I hear her screaming about how much work she has done cleaning the house, how the utilities are all still on even though she doesn’t have a job. Oh, I do recall her telling her daughter that she had love for her, but that she didn’t like her at all and wanted her to move out though the daughter is only 15.

Now, I think I must be quite odd because no one seems to be disturbed by the madness except for me. Perhaps no one else hears what I do. Acoustics are such that if SB has her front door open when mine is also open, all of her noise comes into my home. If I close my front door, and stifle in the heat, I can still hear her through my bedroom window that is all the way at the rear of the house. Her voice is always filled with angst, rage, and screeching. There is no escape.

So, I listen and wonder why I have been chosen to witness this new behavior that really isn’t new any more. This new way of parenting has been a staple of lower-class life for a couple of decades now. Fewer and fewer of these families exist in the community because they have been forced out by losing property that belonged to their parents, or they’ve died out. But the few that are left more than make up for the loss of the others.

Keeping a cheerful spirit is difficult when in the midst of the maelstrom. I don’t judge. But I am negatively affected by all I’ve observed coming from that house. If ever I get enough money together, I’m outta here. Thirteen years of observing bad luck and worse behavior is enough.