Since I left university I’ve lived with my best mate Sharon in a flat on the edges of the inner city with a great view of the vagrants in the park below us. It’s centrally located, we can walk to the shops (before dark and with a large can of pepper spray in each hand), and you certainly don’t lack for entertainment – you can just open your window on any given night and either listen to the neighbours accusing each other of having a string of affairs or the alcoholics in the alley arguing with the drug addicts over who is going to sleep in the doorway tonight. That’s if the sirens aren’t too loud. I though life was perfect until last month my mother and father came around to visit, with two bodyguards in tow (a typically unnecessary display) and dumped a pile of pamphlets on my kitchen counter as my father exclaimed ”Mortgage loans my girl, it’s time you learned about mortgage loans.
Well they certainly weren’t kidding. I do believe I heard everything there is to hear about mortgage loans. I had no idea that there were so many quite so many shapes and sizes of mortgage loans or that there were so many options. Generally, I must say, although I didn’t say it at the time of course, I was quite impressed with the variety of products the banking sector uses to entice people these days. And then I noticed my mother smiling at me pleadingly waving a picture of a rather grotesque and exceptionally small (a whole 68 square metres my foot!) Tuscan styled townhouse frantically in front of my face. “It’s ideal darling” she said, and so safe “all we need to do is get your sorted out with one of these mortgage loans and Bobs’ your uncle!”. And that kind of did it you see. Because Bob is not my uncle. Bob is the gnarly faced grumpy tramp who lives in the alley below my window and who is particularly fond of saying goodnight to me by throwing his shoe up at it. Occasionally the window is open and I have woken up with a shoe size sole imprint on my face once or twice, but I would miss Bob and his shoe. Who would throw a show at a Tuscan styled townhouse? And would I have to listen to my neighbours drawing up their shopping list for Builders’ Warehouse together instead of Sally (who works our block) serenading her clients at night?
Gravely, and in hushed worried tones now, they patiently explained that sooner or later everyone had to start thinking about mortgage loans. It was the only way that one could progress in life, move up into the ranks of the property owners of the world and settle down, put down some roots. But I obviously wasn’t ready yet, because it seemed to me that I was putting down roots, in my own rather idealized way but roots nonetheless. Perhaps there would be a time when I was ready to talk about mortgage loans, but not yet. They left the pamphlets though and who knows maybe I’ll look at them one day, after all I hear the penthouse on the top floor is going for a song.
Author Resource:
Danny Aaron manages the website http://www.isureins.co.za , a site devoted to providing you with the best information about mortgage rates
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