I am ordinarily the nicest person around. Really. Come to my house and I’ll give you coffee and pie (if we have any pie). I’ll drive you to the airport. I’ll look at your manuscript even when I have hours worth of real work to do. I’m a softie. Ordinarily. But sometimes the lack of common sense afoot in the world pisses me off. Last time I felt like this was with the crash of the dot-com bubble, when, as near as I could tell, everyone had been saying “Isn’t this neat? And it will never falter, and as the internet is endless, so must our profits be, and wheeee!” To which my increasingly cranky response was: Everything That Rises Must Come Down. When the bubble burst and pundits everywhere were Viewing With Alarm and weeping into their beer about how no one could have foreseen, I was screaming at my TV set: “I foresaw it, and I know nothing, you buttheads!”
And now it’s happening again. I am filled with individual compassion for the people who have been caught in the vise of the mortgage-and-housing mess. Losing your home, or going to bed every night fearing that you will l0se your home, or worrying that you’ll have to skimp on food or health insurance or Little Bitzy’s tap dance lessons, so as not to lose your home, is terrifying and soul-destroying.