How Much Do Your Kids Cost You

How Much Do Your Kids Cost You?

Philadelphia PA

1985

My father is sitting at lunch with three friends. They went to law school together and after 30 years, they still remained good friends.  They meet a couple times a year for lunch and the conversation usually picks up right where they left off from the last lunch.

This lunch Nick is complaining about his daughter, his only child. “Jesus,” he complained, “she’s costing me a fortune. And when is it ever going to end. I think she cost me about 25,000 bucks a year. And there’s no end in sight.  Jesus, Jim, you must spend a fortune with seven kids. How much do your kids cost you?”

My father is a little baffled by this question, “What are you talking about, our kids are adults now.”

“What”, Nick wants to know, “You aren’t shelling out any money for them?  Is it just me.  Joe, what about you.  What do your kids cost you.?”

Joe runs some numbers through his head.  “I pick up the car payments on my daughter so that’s about $1000 a year.  And then I throw in grocery money.”

Bob confessed that he pays rent for his one son.  Nick complains that he’s paying rent, car payment, car insurance, food and a clothing allowance.

“Jim, you can’t tell us that you don’t kick in something to your kids.”

“No”, he assures them. “I don’t give them anything.”

They just can’t believe it.

The next time I see my father, he replays this entire conversation with me, word for word, as if he has memorized it, as if he plays it over and over in his head because it is just too unbelievable to him.

“Let me ask you something,” he says, “Do your friends’ parents still support them?  How old are you, 34? Do your friends still hit their parents up from money?”

I tell him, “No.  I have one friend who depends on her parents.  They give her money.  But the rest of my friends are on their own, just like me.”

“Good, that’s the way it should be. You’re adults.”  And with that we went out to lunch and he let me pick up the tab.

Dogs

Dogs

I don’t like dogs and that’s hard to say because it makes dog owners so defensive. But I just don’t like them. I don’t like to be in their presence. I don’t like to be touched by them. I don’t find them to be good company. I don’t know why I have this aversion to dogs and it baffles my dog friends. But so what.

I don’t like to touch them. I don’t like the tactile sensation of their skin. It’s just physically creepy to me. And when I touch a dog, I can feel this sensation on my fingertips until I wash my hands. But even then I still have their smell on my fingers. I don’t like their hot breath. I hate when the dog sits near me and breathes on my leg. I don’t like its wet, runny nose and when the dog touches me with its wet nose, that sends an electrical charge of discomfort that radiates in my entire body. I know that sounds over dramatic but it’s really true. I hate to be touched by dogs.

I get frightened by dogs who are territorial. Once they start to growl at me, I surrender all my confidence and move into defensive mode, assuming they’re going to attack me and eat me to death. When I passed a dog on the leash and it begins to yup at me and the owner says “Don’t worry he’s a friendly dog”, it takes everything out of me not to shout back “Oh shut the fuck up, you don’t know what this dog could do to me”.

I’m not even going to mention dog hair, dog vomit and cleaning up after your dog. They’re all gross body functions that don’t interest me so I won’t even go there.

I don’t like to be licked by a dog. I don’t like that wet residue that lingers on my legs or my hand. When dog starts coming at me I do everything I can to send the vibration to leave me alone.

My brother had two dogs over the last 25 years and I liked those dogs.  And my sister had a dog that I liked.  Although, I have to confess that Petey used to hump me. My sister would laugh and tell me, "He’s just happy to see you.” These were smaller dogs and they didn’t invade my space. And they didn’t lick me or growl at me.  They mostly left me alone.  That must be the key:  I’d like dogs if they just left me alone.

How Old Are You?

How Old Are You

McDonald's Restaurant

Havre d'Grace, MD

September 2016

A man and a woman are sitting at the table in front of me.  They are loud so I hear all of their conversation.  They look older than me.  They seem to have had a few more challenges in life than me.  As they talk about the presidential election, the man asks the woman if she votes. 

"No, I can't.'" she responds.  I assume she has committed a felony. sometime in her lifetime.

 "How old are you?", the man asks the woman.  "You going to be 52 on your birthday?"

"No", the woman responds, "I think I am going to be 58. I'm not sure". 

 "Well what year was you born"? 

 "Um, 1963".  She starts to count with her fingers and comes up with 57.

"No, that aint right," the man offers and he then starts to count on his hands. "55, is that right?  No, that aint right either."

It took them several minutes and several attempts to do this math.  Their process was so confuted  that I found myself befuddled on how to do the math as well.  I reach for my phone to use the calculator.

"53.  You going to be 53 at your next birthday," he finally announced.

"yea, that sounds right."  And the discussion is over.

Becoming a Democrat

Becoming A Democrat

Philadelphia, Pa

1981

I was born into a republican family. My father was active in the republican party. As a result, he was appointed a Commissioner for the Public Utilities commission (PUC) by a republican governor.  He was nominated to the Federal Court as a judge by Ronald Regan. He belongs to the Union League, a Republican Club in Philadelphia, at that time for men only.

When I was a kid, my father would buy a table to the annual Republican fundraiser in Philadelphia. Tickets in 1965 were $100 a piece.  The whole family would go to this event which served as the annual political revival for all of us in attendance.  We heard about the scary Democrats who were ruining our country. We heard jokes about the “incompetent” mayor of the city.  We were given political buttons to wear.  I still have my Barry Goldwater pin; a gold elephant with large black eyeglasses. I don’t remember what we eat other than the snapper soup which my mother allowed us to pour as much sherry on top as we wanted.  This seem to be the only thing I took away from these dinners.

But, for years, I heard my father repeatedly tells us that the democrats were ruining our country.

When I was 18, I was allowed to vote in my first election.  I blindly registered and voted Republican. I voted from the first time in the general election in 1973.  I don't remember who was in that first race. It wasn’t until I moved away from my family that I began to have different conversations about the world. My college days were filled with discussions about social injustice, women’s rights, gender equality, ending the Vietnam War, civil rights and the environment.  And so my thinking began to evolve.

In 1976, I voted for President for the first time. I voted for Gerald Ford over Jimmy Carter.  I liked both men but I was most grateful to Ford for bring some calm to our country after Richard Nixon left town.  But for the first time in my life, I remember being torn between both candidates.  I was sorry that Ford lost but for the first time I paid attention to the words of our democratic president. I liked what Jimmy Carter had to say about America and our role in the world. He spoke about views that were now mine.

So, in 1980, I voted for Carter and was greatly disappointed to see Ronald Reagan in the White house.  Now, 30 years later, I have become more like my father than I had ever imagines.  I, too, have become rigid in my politics.  But unlike my father who thought Democrats are ruining our country, I think Republicans are ruining our world.

Holy Cow

Holy Cow

India

July 2015

I hate to admit it but these damn cows intimidated me. They were everywhere.  They encumbered my space and I cowered to them.

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Sunday Afternoon at Home

Sunday Afternoon at Home

Jamel, Haiti

July 2013

We stopped by to visit with them. It was a sunny, hot summer afternoon.  Nothing was scheduled for the afternoon other than hair care. Each of them braided the other's hair and then had her hair braided.