REO Speedwagon

RICK’S CAR was in the driveway, which meant he was already home from work. But that made sense, since it was almost five-thirty. His wife Lori and their seven-year-old son Cody scurried up the driveway in tandem. Cody pushed past his mother through the front door and into what some architect had decided forty-five years earlier should be a living room.

Lori had brushed off her afternoon disappointment but nevertheless was in no mood for horseplay. “Rick, what are you doing on my pole?” she snapped. “Get off there and give me the keys to the car—I need to get going.”

But Cody was delighted with his father’s antics. “Look, Mommy,” he said. “Daddy’s being per-cosus! You’re funny, Daddy.”

Half-an-hour earlier:

Lori Leggett and her son Cody boarded the No. 10 bus—the express that ran from Hollister Avenue’s upper end down to Turnpike Road, six miles or so pretty-much due east along Hollister. They’d just left Bacara, where Lori had hoped for a job as a meeter-and-greeter: front desk clerk, junior concierge, something like that. She’d also hoped that applying in person would help, since she was what generally passed as attractive. But apparently, Bacara wasn’t hiring.

Most of the bus seats were empty. Lori picked one on the left side, sat down with Cody, and began to play back the last hour’s events in her mind. Her eyes squinted leftward toward the foothills as she tried to convince herself that her job-hunt had been sabotaged. She blamed her babysitter for being unavailable that afternoon. She blamed her ankle tattoo—Rick’s idea—for betraying her. She blamed the jealous bitch who interviewed her at Bacara.

The bus eased forward ceremonially, and Lori blamed her mortgage-rate reset for coercing her onto the No. 10 by wrecking her relationship with her 2007 Honda Pilot a few months earlier. She half-watched as El Encanto Heights, a suburban misnomer in every sense, scrolled passed her and Cody and the No. 10’s dozen or so other passengers. An angry-looking man seated just behind Lori and Cody—too close, really, considering all the empty seats—leaned forward.

“Look at all those El Encanto sh—boxes!” the man exclaimed. “FB-ers as far as the eye can see. Can you believe a million dollars for a North Goleta crackerbox? I bet half those people are upside down. And they’re supposed to be victims? Yeah, right. It’s g-r-e-e-d, plain and simple. I’ll tell you one thing—they get no pity from me . . . no pity at all.”

Cody stood up and leaned over his mother toward the window for a better look. Then he sat back down and scrunched his face and thought for a minute. Cody was precocious for seven, and he wasn’t about to take a day off.

“Mommy, where are the upside-down people?” he finally asked. “I didn’t see them back there.”

Lori only half-understood the man’s point but ventured an answer, as mothers do.

“Honey, the people are not really upside down,” she explained. “I think what the nice man means is that sometimes when people buy a house they have to pay money to the bank each month, like your Mommy and Daddy do, and if they run out of money the bank won’t let them live there anymore. They have to sell their house and go live somewhere else.”

The man had leaned back in his seat, but he heard the exchange and nosed up and between the two again.

“What I mean, little lady, is that we’re in what’s called Negative Equityville out here—short sales all over the place. If it was me,” he continued, “I’d just do the jingle-mail thing and walk. Either way, John Q. Taxpayer’s the one who gets screwed six ways to Sunday . . . as usual.”

Cody was curious, but he wasn’t about to talk to a stranger. So he addressed his mother instead: “Mommy, you said upside-down people have to sell their houses. Do they have to sell their shorts, too?”

The No. 10 was approaching Patterson Avenue. The man behind Lori and Cody aimed a finger in the direction of the foothills.

“More short-sellers,” he sneered, “all the way up to Cathedral Oaks. Not a bad neighborhood up there. No surprise, though . . . none what—so—ever.”

True to form, Cody wondered aloud: “Mommy, why do people buy houses if they know they won’t have enough money to pay the bank?”

Lori pretended to think about the subject for the first time. “That’s a very grown-up question, Cody. Hmm . . . maybe it’s because adults, like your Mommy and Daddy, make wishes just like little boys do. A lot of adults wish they owned their own home . . . and maybe even a nice car like the Honda Pilot your Mommy used to have. But sometimes wishes aren’t enough, and adults need to ask the bank to help make their wishes come true . . .”

The man didn’t bother to lean forward this time. “Ma’am, I believe the euphemism of choice these days is aspirational . . . but you wanna know what I call it? I call it the same old bullsh—. That’s what I call it.”

Cody saw the diner he was named after, and he knew they’d reached Turnpike Road. (Lori used to wait tables at Cody’s Cafe, which is where she met Rick back in 1998.) As ceremonially as the No. 10 had begun its six-mile trip, it slowed to a stop. The door hissed open. Lori and Cody exited down those three now-familiar steps and began their half-mile walk back to their San Marino Drive home.

“C’mon, honey, grab my hand. Let’s walk faster!” Lori entreated. “Quick, quick, like a bunny! I don’t want to be late for my job interview at the Spearmint Rhino* tonight.”

Cody obliged and picked up the pace and smiled in a way only seven-year-old boys do. “I want to see the rhinoceroses, too,” he said. “Can I go with you, Mommy?”

Lori laughed a joyful laugh. She loved Cody so much.

“Oh, you precocious little man. You’re just like your father,” she quipped. “Maybe you can go there when you’re older—when you’re allowed to make some adult wishes of your own.”

They rounded the final turn home. It was pushing five-thirty. Rick’s car was in the driveway.

[The preceding fictional account is intended as entertainment only. Any similarities between the characters portrayed therein and any real persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.]
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NOTES:

Following is information about just some of the single-family residential properties for sale and located between the western terminus of Hollister Ave. (in North Goleta) and Turnpike Rd. (near the Santa Barbara city limits). The information was obtained from the SBAOR website, from Zillow.com, and from public records. The information here is deemed accurate, though its accuracy is not guaranteed.

The current owner(s) of 74 Brandon Dr. (located in the El Encanto Heights area of North Goleta) acquired the property in July ‘04 for $922,000 with purchase-money secured loans of $728,000 (from America’s Wholesale Lender) and $91,000 (from Countrywide Bank). The most recent prior sale occurred in June ‘01, for $472,500. 74 Brandon (a 1,482-sq-ft house on a 6,969-sq-ft lot) is currently listed with the SBMLS (No. 08-2072) for $700,000. The property at 74 Brandon Dr. is not pictured here.

The current owner(s) of 7553 Hempstead Ave. (also located in El Encanto Heights) acquired the property in Sept. ‘05 for $1,000,000 with purchase-money secured loans of $750,000 and $187,600 (both from Fremont Investment and Loan). Recorded on 5/12/08: a Notice of Trustee’s Sale (non-judicial foreclosure) respecting the $750,000 loan. The amount owing at the time of the Notice was $793,728; the public sale is scheduled for today (June 2). 7553 Hempstead (a 1,490-sq-ft house on a 7,405-sq-ft lot) was recently listed with the SBMLS for $819,000. We have no information as to whether the public auction scheduled for today occurred or as to the status of legal title in the property. 7553 Hempstead is pictured here as well as earlier in the post.

The current owner(s) of 73 Brandon Dr. (also located in El Encanto Heights, and pictured at left) acquired the property in Dec. ‘04 for $800,000 with purchase-money secured loans of $640,000 and $160,000 (both from Long Beach Mortgage Co.). Recorded on 3/4/08: a Notice of Trustee’s Sale (non-judicial foreclosure) respecting the $640,000 loan. (The amount owing at the time of the Notice was $698,646.) 73 Brandon (a 1,164-sq-ft house on a 5,662-sq-ft lot) is currently listed with the SBMLS (No. 07-1884) for $595,000.

The current owner(s) of 7485 Evergreen Dr. (also located in El Encanto Heights, and pictured at right) acquired the property in Feb. ‘07 for $850,000 with purchase-money secured loans of $680,000 and $170,000 (both from New Century Mortgage). Recorded on 3/11/08: a Notice of Default (non-judicial foreclosure) respecting the $680,000 loan. 7485 Evergreen (a 1,860-sq-ft house on a 4,356-sq-ft lot) is currently listed with the SBMLS (No. 07-4235) for $750,000.

The current owner(s) of 527 Lira Pl., located in South Goleta (below Cathedral Oaks Rd. just west of Patterson Ave.), acquired legal title in the property in Aug. ‘05 (S.B. County assessed value at transfer of ownership: $975,000). In Aug. ‘06 the owner(s) refinanced out of two prior secured loans into a $735,000 secured loan (from Lending First Mortgage). Recorded on 6/21/08: a Notice of Trustee’s Sale (non-judicial foreclosure) respecting that loan. (The amount owing at the time of the Notice was $808,665.) 527 Lira Pl. (a 1,679-sq-ft house on a .19-acre lot) is currently listed with the SBMLS (No. 08-2049) for $710,000. The property is pictured here as well as earlier in the post.

The current owner(s) of 575 San Marino Dr. (located south of Hollister Ave. and west of Turnpike Rd.) acquired the property in Aug. ‘04 for $815,000 with purchase-money secured loans of $650,000 (from America’s Wholesale Lender) and $82,685 (from National City Bank). The most recent prior sale occurred in July ‘97, for $240,000. In 2006, the owner(s) refinanced, obtaining two new loans in the amount of $744,000 and $92,000. 575 San Marino (a 1,122-sq-ft house on a 6,098-sq-ft lot) is currently listed with the SBMLS (No. 08-954) for $659,000. A sale is currently pending. The property is pictured here as well as at the top of the post.

*The Santa Barbara location of Spearmint Rhino Gentlemen’s Club is 22 E. Montecito Street, just south of the 101 Freeway in Santa Barbara’s waterside district. The club is open daily from 3pm to 2am (Fri. and Sat. until 4am).