“Politics, Money and Shtick,” a new book by Jack Heselov about credit fraud, could have been culled from the archives of a late-night talk show.
The Pleasanton resident, who describes himself as a “still-kicking 77 years young,” comes across as a gadfly uncle — smoking a stogie and pontificating on the evils of everything ranging from fraudulent credit cards to the sexual habits of former presidents.
For those readers interested in the book’s Jewish content, good luck. Outside of a few Yiddish expressions (Heselov is particularly enamored of the words “shtick,” and “shlep”), the book has few Jewish overtones.
But that’s not to say that Heselov’s Jewish background is lacking. Heselov attended an Orthodox synagogue as a youth in Youngstown, Ohio, and became a bar mitzvah there. Although he doesn’t regularly attend a synagogue now, four generations of his family — from the near-80 patriarch himself to his 7-year-old great-grandson Matthew — attended Los Altos’ Reform Congregation Beth Am for High Holy Day services this year.
“It was great to have that continuity, especially with my great-grandson involved,” said Heselov.
The author’s book also carries on some great Jewish traditions: storytelling and tikkun olam (healing the world). Or, in this case, preventing greedy corporations from sticking it to the consumers.
If anything, the World War II veteran and longtime real estate mortgage broker comes across as something of a libertarian. His pet peeves are unscrupulous politicians and credit card companies, and he often castigates them using CAPITAL LETTERS.
The book is a fulfillment of the author’s GREAT AMERICAN DREAM, and many of the people evidently sullying this integrity of that dream, according to Heselov, are politicians. Heselov writes that elected officials should “get a real job, like everybody else, and go do some real work.”
“After two terms,” the author continues, “most of them try to crawl into the pockets of all the unsuspecting citizens of our good country.”
If that weren’t bad enough, according to Heselov, some elected officials have their hands in constituents’ pockets for other reasons. The author muses about the litigious times we live in, professing astonishment that President Bill Clinton could face impeachment over his sex life.
“Unbelievable!” Heselov writes. “Even Franklin Roosevelt had some on the side.”
According to the East Bay scribe, who’s worked in the real estate industry for almost five decades, society seemed to implode in 1963. That was the year that Kennedy was assassinated, the Beatles became popular and “Silent Spring,” was published.
“Good idea!” Heselov exclaims, responding to Rachel Carson’s pesticide investigation that galvanized the ecology movement. “Now, everything needs an environmental report, which is great for the politicians.” Heselov finishes this diatribe by adding that historical moment was “just a bad year.”
“It just seemed like you woke up face down on the pavement,” he writes. “And the women put their bras on backward — and they fit better!”
But perhaps readers are interested in how to avoid getting screwed by credit card companies. Those readers are eventually rewarded — about a quarter of the way through the book.
To his credit (no pun intended) Heselov names names. According to the author, the BATH companies, (consisting of Beneficial, Avco, Transamerica and Household) clean out consumers with high interest rates and pre-payment penalties.
Occasionally, when discussing the nuances of how credit lenders gouge the consumers, Heselov lapses into arcane descriptions.
The author writes that the annual percentage rate (designed to tell the true rate of interest) includes the points (the additional percentage charged in addition to the annual rate) times the gross loan, which is added on to the prepaid interest on the loan.
Say what?
This reader was much less interested in the nuts and bolts of customer rip-offs (which are probably geared to those with more expertise, anyway), than the author’s extremely entertaining rants and raves.
The book’s epilogue details the loss incurred by a power outage Dec. 8, 1998. On that day, at 8:20 a.m., the electricity went out in the city of San Francisco, stranding “344 Muni buses, 465 people commuting on ferries and 12 movie extras in wedding dresses,” he writes.
Also stranded was the author, who demanded payment from Pacific Gas & Electric for his three hours of lost productivity. The author was awarded $300.
A minor victory?
Perhaps. But it’s the little things in life that count. In the end, the reader can’t help but like Heselov.
In fact, this reader wanted to buy the author a BEER, and settle in for a little SHMOOZING.