Radio advertising for reverse mortgages is similar to ordering a mango smoothie at Denny’s off Alameda Street in downtown Los Angeles. Both sound so good when ordering but the final result placed in front of you will destroy your appetite and leave your mouth dry.
For those that have made the mistake, I apologize for not getting the info to you sooner. For those I have saved, top shelf is appreciated.
Today I am Rose Bowl-bound and this is my adventure to the Granddaddy of them all. I am on my way to Union Station to ride a train to Pasadena – thought I was smart to avoid the $50 parking fee. Upon stepping into the train I notice six Homeland Security officers stationed throughout the car. I haven’t seen this much fuzz since stealing peeks at my dad’s old Playboys. I could not help but parallel this extreme policing to the over-the-top security going on in our own financial world, with overkill legislation weighing us down. It’s like installing cameras after the robbery, taking echinacea to ward off a full-blown fever, or the time I once spoke to the attorney general’s office in the state of Washington about using the phrase “no payments” in a mailer … let’s stop the insanity! Can we just apply some good ole common sense?
Once inside the stadium, blimps, planes and helicopters spot the sky and the sound of music fills the air. It’s on! The mix of people is unlike anything on this earth (outside a Rob Zombie concert) and the party surrounding it is just as interesting. It reminds me of the Financial Freedom Broker Expo in Vegas so many years ago, where spirits were high and aspirations flourished. I go for my first beer and I need one … 10 bucks! This is officially the highest-priced libation served in a plastic cup on record. It reminds me of buying TV leads for marketing. It may have the best conversion but you better have the wallet and the grapes to wait out the results. But 10 bucks, really? Where is the Los Angeles Times reporter chastising these fees and ridiculing this vendor? Only our industry gets crucified for offering products to the public with incredible consumer safety standards and gets tossed to the lions for misrepresentation of fees.
To add insult to injury, the bathroom lines are ridiculous – I mean utterly unbearable. I try to bribe a gate guard with $20 to let me out so I can use a portable john, to no avail; I think he may be on the Ethics committee. As I stand in line I am baffled as to why so many suffer when the solution is so obvious. Why can’t we give each game ticket a Case number that is only good for a certain bathroom? We can set personal times for the urinal and include Case number transfers for those stricken with stage fright. Kids will be treated like condos: some approved and on the list, others need more proof and additional paperwork. Nobody whizzes for free, not on my watch. OK, can we just step back and pause for a second? Maybe a better alternative could be offered. How about placing some portables along the fence lines of the stadium, or making it crystal-clear how brokers and their ilk will be handled in the near future? Unfortunately this will never happen because the people who make these rules are in box seats with their own bathrooms and a smidge out of touch with their constituents.
You will be happy to know I made it without incident and found my way back to the TCU student section in my red Wisconsin sweatshirt. Though the game may not have ended the way I wanted it to, I was reminded by so many around me how important it is to stay the course. Hold tight on this bumpy road because you never know when a private school of 7K can knock off a major institution with one leap of a Horned Frog.