bjournal::juxtapoz

So, a little over seven years ago, I decided I wanted to buy an Audi. I was head-deep in student loans at the time, but what the hell, right? That pretty much started a spending spree, which still hasn’t stopped, and which I’ll probably be paying for for at least twenty years. I spent the money mostly on stupid stuff, too. I mean, I haven’t really improved my station in life, and I have less money than ever. To be fair, though, I do have a roof over my head and food to eat (especially since I go out to eat almost every night).

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, one of my friends heads to Vegas. It is always bad when he goes to Vegas, because it usually means he has taken somebody’s money by convincing them that he’s a good investment. He points to his huge wins, but never to his huge losses, or to the fact that he’s always in the hole (and the house always wins). I attended one of a string of $20,000 a night parties he hosted after a big win, and while it was glitzy, something just didn’t feel right about it. 

Like I was saying, this guy heads to Vegas, and that week, I get a call. I immediately know this is different than before by the tone in his voice. The, “the whole thing is crashing down” voice. He’s a good friend, so I listen to what he has to say. Essentially, he needs $70,000 to get him out of the jam, and he needs it fast. I take a quick look at my situation: I have a lot of debt, but I have good credit because I pay my bills on  time, I also have a nice, stable job. Further, I am a black-belt in Karate and an excellent marksman (nobody fucks with me).

Still, it doesn’t feel right. I mean, it wouldn’t be difficult to get the loan, but I am a little hesitant. He’s obviously disappointed, but he sounds like he might be ok. The next day, I call him back, and clearly make the wrong choice. I tell him I’ll get him the cash as long as he covers my interest, and then some (no rush, though), but completely ignoring the fact that I’ll never see that money again. Twenty years of heavy debt becomes thirty, and considering I can’t curb my spending habits, probably forty. 

I’m writing this as a stated regret, because the money is already gone. Though, technically, the money was never really there to begin with (I’m already in debt), but now I’ve added to my personal debt to better someone else’s situation just to save my friendship (and perhaps a little guilt). I think what I’ve done is actually made everything worse. 

It is expected that, on Thursday, we are going to allow the government to turn $700 billion (I can only assume, “of our money”) into an assortment of mortgage related securities (houses, right?) and other devalued assets (everything else?). In addition, the FDIC guaranteed deposit limit has been increased from $100,000 to $250,000, which is great if you have more than $100,000 in the bank like most of us (?!), and then basically linked the “holy shit it is all going down” pool of FDIC money to the Treasury (think of it as really big overdraft protection). Just for good measure, they’ve added in $110 million in tax breaks, which seems like a pretty solid plan, because we’re pretty flush with money already. 

I honestly feel that a) we just sold off our future well-being for temporary stability b) we just lost World War III (take a guess at where that $700 billion is coming from), and c) this isn’t the last chunk of change we’ll never see again.