Words with Friends in Bankruptcy

Certain phrases grate. I don't refer to those that slur, or spite, or to vitriol. I mean the apparently innocuous words and verbal tics that I just don't care for. They are the sayings that are misapplied, misused, hackneyed. Below, we relate common examples within different classes of nail-on-chalkboard verbiage.  We being with the category of misnomers, if only because the Bankruptcy Code* is rife with them.  

I. Misnomer: A word or phrase with misleading terms.

1) Our inaugural verbal culprit comes courtesy Title 11 Chapter 3, subchapter III, section 341 on "Meetings of creditors and equity security holders." Colloquially, we refer to it as the "Meeting of Creditors," or the "341(a)," "a" being of course, the subsection of the section of the subchapter of the chapter of the title.

One would presume the Meeting of Creditors is a meeting of creditors. No.  Mostly, the Meeting of Creditors entails a trustee's interview of a bankruptcy debtor, a rather unremarkable affair.  While the invitation's extended to its eponymous event, the everyday bankruptcy creditor shall decline to appear.  Creditors rarely show, though if they do, it typically transpires in particular scenarios such as The Case of the Missing Couch or the Circumstance of the Cuckolded Ex.  They go something like this:

A: The Case of the Missing Couch

The first of the above-two fact-patterns entails a bankruptcy creditor for a company that financed household collateral such as couches and chaises, futons and footrests, sofas and sleepers, armchairs and ottomans, who may materialize and inquire of the bankruptcy debtor,

"Pray tell me wherein lies the furniture securing your defaulted Mor-furniture-loan from 1997?  Though you have no intention of returning it,  and I have no intention of repossessing it, I must note for my notes this floral-pattern-covered La-Z-Boy's last resting place."

And the debtor will answer,

"I don't know."

And that will be that.

B: The Circumstance of the Cuckolded Ex

Another type of bankruptcy creditor is the scorned separated-spouse who may appear to just sit, stare daggers, and pass time inquiring of the bankruptcy debtor,

"What ever happened to the floral-patterned tea cozy-- the pink one-- I don't see it on Schedule B [B being the famed bankruptcy schedule dedicated to personal property]?"

The bankruptcy debtor will answer that she thinks it's on the teapot.

And that will be that.

Why don't creditors appear at Ye Olde Bankruptcy Meeting of Creditors?  Because generally bankruptcy-creditor affairs may be addressed conveniently from the creditor's-office via correspondence, telephone, or bad vibes.**  Besides, trustees grow weary of bankruptcy-creditors fishing for clues at the Meeting, and the latter may be gently encouraged to shut up.


Now, on to the incredibly baffling misnomer of

2) Current Monthly Income

One's Current Monthly Income is not one's current monthly income. 
Current Monthly Income or "CMI" is defined in 11 USC section 101(10A) as the bankruptcy debtor's average gross income during the six months prior to the month of filing (the bankruptcy). For example, if you file bankruptcy in July, your Current Monthly Income is defined as the average gross income for January through June. Thus, if you lose employment in July,  and file bankruptcy in July, your Current Monthly Income is based on phantom income from an erstwhile job.
The rationale of the misnomer is that the averaging of 6-months past-income effects a standard test period that measures earning potential. Jobs come and go, but one's income track record can be a useful guide in determining long-term debt-repayment-ability. It's a deterrent against "job loss" on the eve of bankruptcy.

This may lead to confusion where a bankruptcy attorney drafts a petition, which states a Current Monthly Income of $10,000 for a client who has just lost her job.  The client shall balk, and say, "But, I make $1,950 in unemployment."
I answer, Yes, but you're assuming "current" means current. 

In demonstrating the next species of recalcitrant words, we depart from illustrations in bankruptcy to address subjects of universal scope (or things that bother me personally).  First, let's speak of 


II. Fictive Kinship.  Its definition is: "Use of consanguinal terms in addressing non-consanguinal persons."


In other words, fictive kinship it is the casual employment of otherwise blood-based pronouns in a superficial context.  Or: calling a non-brother a brother.  Examples in the strict sense are Brother, Bro, My Brother, Sister. In a broader sense, I include Pal, Buddy, and Dude. 


Certain relationships transcend a lack of common blood and merit expressions of solidarity. But absent true bonds, they are merely pandering, presumptuous and stripped of meaning.


III. Common misused phrases

In this category of pernicious phrasing, we'll tackle two flagrant, contemporary instances starting with


1) Ironic.  Its definition in the simplest sense is "Something that happens in the opposite way than what's expected."

In addition to revitalizing the appeal of The Chipmunks vocal-styling, Canadian crooner, Alanis Morissette is single-handedly responsible for the the death of irony, the word.  Her 1995 ditty Ironic relates a series of unfortunate events that are not ironies.  Rather, they are bummers.  Perhaps Winona Ryder is to blame.  Certainly Ms. Morissette had faithfully watched the prior year's Generation X touchstone film, Reality Bites, in which a flummoxed college graduate, Winona Ryder fails the task of defining the word, and in turn of edifying Alanis.

In present usage, ironic is (well, ironically) confused with the opposite of its meaning.  Invariably persons confuse it for events that are actually fitting. Otherwise, it wrongly denotes mere coincidence.

Next we move on to

2) Literally.  Definition: "In a manner that's true to fact, exact, or in the strict sense.  Not figurative or metaphorical." 

Ironically... literally is rampantly used by the public as a means of figurative emphasis.  Actor Rob Lowe (who may or may not have once dated Winona Ryder--which would be an act of coincidence, not irony) must take credit for the maiming of literalness.  On NBC's sitcom, Parks and Recreation, his beatific fitness-freak-persona, Chris Traeger is regularly-prone to employ this adverb.   Unfortunately, its proliferation has led to its popular abuse.  As in the case of a peckish person muttering,

"I'm literally dying of hunger."

To which one should answer,

"No, you're not.  You just happened to skip a snack."

On to

III.  Internet Jargon

Texting and Online abbreviations and initialisms can save precious seconds for tired fingers and thumbs.  Yet, often enough they're just filler.  The worst offender is LOL or Laugh Out Loud.  Its excessive use implies either condescension or a not-very-critical sense of humor.   One can audibly laugh only so many times at shared cleverly-captioned-pics of fat cats and ugly dogs.  If laughter is the best medicine, then on facebook it's a drug that begs too many junkies.  The ubiquity of LOL has turned life into one big big-screen viewing of a middling romcom*** in the company of an undiscriminating audience hellbent to cackle in your ear at each and every cue, because, damnit, they paid $10 to laugh and they're going to laugh. 

And finally, about something that

IV.  Really Should be Redundant

Perhaps it's spoken unconsciously, but not infrequently persons will preface a revelation with the words Honestly, Frankly, or To Tell You the Truth.  I suppose I don't like these turns of phrase for what they imply about everything else the person says.  Because honesty isn't the best policy.  It's the only one.

San Diego Bankruptcy Attorney, Asaph Abrams
Offering free, no-obligation bankruptcy consultations in San Diego.  Visit us at http://www.bankonitsd.com/ or call 858-344-0500. E-mail admin@abramslawsd.com to set an appointment.

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*The Bankruptcy Code being Title 11 of the United States Code, not to be confused with Chapter 11 (of Title 11), the third most-popular form of bankruptcy.

**Convenience counts.  Parking in downtown San Diego, where the bankruptcy Grand Meeting transpires, can be fraught with peril.  The meter cops will nail one for the slightest infraction, from not pointing wheels-to-curb on a slope, parking 21 minutes in a 20-minute zone, or crashing into a sidewalk coffee-cart. 

***Romcom is short for Romantic Comedy, or "films populated by Matthew McConaugheys and Kate Hudsons."