Love's Real Stories

Good news! Today’s newspaper says interest rates will be cut nationwide. Every single homeowner with a home loan will receive a reduction on their interest rate and therefore, a lower house payment. I looked up from the newspaper to my wife; and from my wife down to the newspaper. “Lassie, you’ll not believe what I’m seein’ with me own two eyes,” I said.

She glanced nervously around the tea shop, and whispered, “Stop using that fake Irish accent. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m thinkin’ I sound perfectly natural,” I said, continuing with my best Irish brogue, rolling the r’s and rounding the vowels.

She rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows.

“Ach! You’re a bonny lass!” I exclaimed.

“Stop it!” she whispered. She lowered her head, as if she could hide from the other patrons in the tea shop by disappearing into the tabletop.

“Anyway,” I said in my flattest American accent, “can you believe the entire nation is getting a loan modification? For free? And apparently, with no hassle!”

I quoted from the newspaper: “Today the Finance Minister announced victory over the lenders in a long-running dispute over the interest paid by homeowners. A source said the banks have committed to giving customers a better deal within the next two months. Ultimately all borrowers will be able to access a mortgage interest rate of below 4 percent, and all will receive a cut of at least ¼ percent, and up to ¾ percent.”

“Wow,” I said, “we should be so lucky.”

“That will never happen to us,” said my wife.

It will never happen for us because we are Americans, and you see, the tea shop we occupied and the newspaper I was reading were in Ireland.

The newspaper article continued: “’There was a game of chicken going on and it seems the banks broke first,’ said the source.”

Ireland experienced the same boom and bust cycle the United States did a few years back, with shady lending practices by banks as part of the blame.

“Well, the Irish deserve it after all they’ve been through,” said my wife. “It’s amazing they’re so friendly and good-natured. But the Irish heart is a tender one.”

It’s true. We received a crash course in Irish history during our recent trip there, and it’s a violent history, despite the calm beauty of the watery green island today. A guide who set us up with a boat trip over the Lakes of Killarney gave us a detailed description of the slaughter, famine and displacement of his clan. Tears rolled down the face of this Viking-looking Irishman as he described the brutality suffered by his people at the hands of foreign oppressors. The Irishman’s tears were fresh, though the events he described took place in the year 1601.

“The Irish do deserve this, Lass. Truer words were never spoken,” I said, reverting to my finest Irish accent. “But I envy the luck o’ the Irish when it comes to their good fortune with this interest rate bit.”

“I wouldn’t be so embarrassed if your accent wasn’t so lousy,” said my wife, looking warily around the tea shop.

“Bless your heart, Lass,” I said, “let’s go kiss the Blarney Stone.”