Friday, March 30, 2012

Channeling Clark Griswold

So we’re endeavoring to refinance our house.  If you’ve done this you know the level of aggravation is colossal.  The first time we ever bought a house by dad told me that you have to prove to the bank that you don’t need the money before they will give it to you.  He couldn’t be more right!  The process is extensive and arcane to say the least.

I believe closing costs are contrived, a hoax.  Years ago some realtors and bankers had some friends who needed jobs.  They came up with closing costs as a way create a few jobs and swindle people out of more money.  It’s possible…..  Loan origination fee – yeah, right!

Riddle me this, batman:  If I use the same bank to refi, why do I have to go through so many hoops to get the loan?  Basically I have to prove to them that I can pay $400 less than what I already pay each month.  That doesn’t even make sense. 

There was a definite point that I went into the Clark Griswold rage.  There was a discrepancy on my credit report.  After hours of phone calls, being put on hold, emails, faxes, letter writing, foot stomping, fist pounding and hand wringing the discrepancy is corrected.  As a result – wait for it – my credit score went DOWN a few points.  What the hell!!!!!

Our loan processor, bless her heart, is doing her best, I know.  She is one of those people who simply does not comprehend humor or wit in any way.  On my 5th phone call with her yesterday, when I feel myself careening into a “Griswoldian” state I ask her with my best Southern girl manners, “Well would you like a blood sample, too?”  She answers, “No Mrs. Cadle, we don’t require that…”

"Holy shit!  Where's the Tylenol?"
               -Clark W. Griswold


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