There’s an old saying, “it ain’t right….but it’s legal.” And in no better situration doe’s that apply then this one. When my mother died last December fifth at the age of 83 of a massive stroke she had just won a 5 year battle with National City Bank, now PCI Bank, and was told that her house that she had lived in for over 50 years would still be sold not due to the foreclosure but due to back taxes. She died within a week after learning that.
She had never missed a house payment, and yet the bank wanted her out and didn’t provide her records concerning the loan for 5 years which by the way proved what she had said all along. Due to bad advice from her lawyer, she had declared bankruptcy when this started and was the saddled with payments of over $800 dollars a month instead of the $550 that her payment was. Which being that she only made $1,400 a month in retirement, left her only $600 a month to live on.
After she died I tried to work a deal and was flatly refused. So I got what I could before the sale and never looked back until today. That’s when I a call from an old friend saying that they were trashin the place out. So I stopped by and talked to the guy there that claimed his brother in law had bought it from the parasites that had bought up the Tax certificate and had refused to cut a deal or at least talk to me at the time. So tonight I looked up who had bought the old place and found some disturbing things. The person only paid $5,500 for a house worth $75,000, his address is in Calif. but the address to mail the tax info each year is the parasites that stole the house right from under her! What the Hell is going on here? Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against paying income taxes. But in my mind and I know that others feel the same, property taxes are nothing but legal extortion by the government. And it is all very legal which brings back to that old saying,
I don’t know, but when I was growing up I was taught that you had to have Moral’s, That just because something might be legal, didn’t make it right. There’s nothing that I can legally do, and I am not about to go to jail over this. But I swear that if I were to ever have the power to buy back that property, I will as well as buying those tax certificates and then simply giving the houses back to those that rightfully own then to begin with with no strings attached. This I swear to God I would and will do if I am ever able to. So Help Me God!!
Tonight there was a story on the Huffington Post about the grandson of Emilio Zapata who is an illegal working as a waiter in Texas. The comments were to say the least some of the most hostile I have ever read. I do not like bigots or racist’s and called one out a real nasty one. He threw a tantrum like a freakin 2 year old.
Now I have Native American blood and take pride in that fact. And pointed out that by rights, unless you are a native American your an illegal that just didn’t leave. Which is both true and kinda funny if you put it in a certain light and you would have thought I was the lowest of the low. I never realized how many whites truly hate anyone who isn’t until tonight. I am not saying that all whites are bigots, but there’s enough that are that give everyone else a bad name.
When will we learn that there is just one race….the human race.
There’s a new movie out call final destination 5. Although I haven’t seen 1-4 and won’t see 5 I am well aware of the plot which is when your time is up it’s up. And although I do believe that to some extent, I fully believe that we ourselves choose our on paths in this life just as much as they are chosen for us. Take my own life for an example. Half of my family has done artwork. My parents even met while attending the Old Ohio Art School, Now The Columbus Collage Of Art And Design or C.C.A.D. I rebelled and went a totally different way, doing skip trace, a.k.a. Bounty Hunting, as well as corp. security in the 80’s. And yet, here I am, 30 years later designing t shirts for a living.
In 49 years of being on this earth, I have been shot twice, stabbed, blown up once and declared dead not once, not twice but three times. And although I wouldn’t really want to live my life over, I wouldn’t take a million dollars to have never lived the life I haved lived. I think that people that have lived a rather strange life tend to value it far more then those who simply lived a “normal” one. The strangest thing that ever happened to me wasn’t dying, it was a phone call I received in May 28th 1975. It was from my grandmother and she called to say that she would always look over me. She had died 12 days before, I was a pallbearer at her funeral, and my grandfather died 9 days after she had with their 53 wedding anniversary in between. After 5 min it dawned on me who I was really taking to and at that exact moment static begain to build on the line until I couldn’t hear her anymore.
So one someone asks me why or how I come up with the designs I do, I simply say that I see things much clearer than most. I have no rose colored glasses, I see live as it is, both the good and the bad and everything in between. And I am thankful that I was given the chance to become who I am. As a wise man once said, “I am not the man that I was yesterday, nor am I the man that I shall become tomorrow, I am simply the man I am today.”