Tsunami's Bridal Shop
My bank account was way too depressing to look at this morning. I always play it close to the edge financially, and Martin Luthor King day (a bank holiday) might just have pushed me over.
A couple of days ago, FC and I pulled up to our house after one of his more successful gigs and said, "I don't know how we pull this off. We own a house, but work only three or four days a week." I've been trying to think about how we pull it off too. Mostly, it's the kindness of others, like the doctor who saw me in trade for piano lessons with his wife and son, or Rich Pseudo Patron who can find me something to hock on eBay when the electricity is about to be turned off, or my mom, who didn't even flinch when I put $1200 on our emergency credit card coming home from my trip to Halifax.
I'm a little tired of playing it this close to the edge though. Being poor is expensive...the interest, the overdraft charges, the late payment fees. And then there's the money you waste when your decisions are based around your limited income. We've wasted so much money on crappy tools or household items that broke by their first or second use for instance.
Yet I'm just about done with being a consumer capitalist slob. I've turned off my television set. I've gotten over my need for gadgets. I've figured out how to feed and clean my household and my body without the need to visit a supermarket. The mountain of ads and inserts that arrive at my house go straight into the recycling. I've even lost enthusiasm for collecting my action figures...which is too bad...those used to bring me such joy.
I don't give my piano students prizes anymore. It's all crap made in China, and it turns them into uncivilized little brats. You want to see what our culture is like in microcosm? Shove a box full of useless trinkets in front of a six year old and tell them that they get to pick out something for being 'good'.
Yesterday I had a brilliant little girl named Tsunami (for real) who told me while tracing over her forte and piano signs that "if the government lets me, I'm going to build a bridal store and fast food shop all in one place." I held back my laughter as I quizzed her about how this business would work.
"Now, would these brides to be eat their fast food before or after they try on the dresses?"
"They could do it before...or after."
"What if the brides get so full that they can't try on the clothes?"
She thought for a moment, "...we'll just have to make the sure that they don't eat too much."
"Now what if a bride wants to try on a dress and eat fast food at the same time?"
She jumped up from her stool with a big grin, "Everybody who comes in will get a BIG GIANT BIB!"
That image hasn't left me since last night. I feel like I'm in Tsunami's bridal shop right now, in some ridiculous dress that doesn't belong to me...getting hamburger grease and ketchup all over my big giant bib.
As Tsumami left her lesson, she demanded a prize. "Sorry, no prizes this week." (I made the mistake of doing that with her once.)
"If you don't give me a prize, I'm going to be bad," she said with a scowl. I pointed out that the lesson was over, and she had already been quite good.
"You might want to rethink that strategy," I said as I handed her her books and ushered her out the door.
That's how it is for the kids in this culture. Obedience is currency. Poor tykes.
A couple of days ago, FC and I pulled up to our house after one of his more successful gigs and said, "I don't know how we pull this off. We own a house, but work only three or four days a week." I've been trying to think about how we pull it off too. Mostly, it's the kindness of others, like the doctor who saw me in trade for piano lessons with his wife and son, or Rich Pseudo Patron who can find me something to hock on eBay when the electricity is about to be turned off, or my mom, who didn't even flinch when I put $1200 on our emergency credit card coming home from my trip to Halifax.
I'm a little tired of playing it this close to the edge though. Being poor is expensive...the interest, the overdraft charges, the late payment fees. And then there's the money you waste when your decisions are based around your limited income. We've wasted so much money on crappy tools or household items that broke by their first or second use for instance.
Yet I'm just about done with being a consumer capitalist slob. I've turned off my television set. I've gotten over my need for gadgets. I've figured out how to feed and clean my household and my body without the need to visit a supermarket. The mountain of ads and inserts that arrive at my house go straight into the recycling. I've even lost enthusiasm for collecting my action figures...which is too bad...those used to bring me such joy.
I don't give my piano students prizes anymore. It's all crap made in China, and it turns them into uncivilized little brats. You want to see what our culture is like in microcosm? Shove a box full of useless trinkets in front of a six year old and tell them that they get to pick out something for being 'good'.
Yesterday I had a brilliant little girl named Tsunami (for real) who told me while tracing over her forte and piano signs that "if the government lets me, I'm going to build a bridal store and fast food shop all in one place." I held back my laughter as I quizzed her about how this business would work.
"Now, would these brides to be eat their fast food before or after they try on the dresses?"
"They could do it before...or after."
"What if the brides get so full that they can't try on the clothes?"
She thought for a moment, "...we'll just have to make the sure that they don't eat too much."
"Now what if a bride wants to try on a dress and eat fast food at the same time?"
She jumped up from her stool with a big grin, "Everybody who comes in will get a BIG GIANT BIB!"
That image hasn't left me since last night. I feel like I'm in Tsunami's bridal shop right now, in some ridiculous dress that doesn't belong to me...getting hamburger grease and ketchup all over my big giant bib.
As Tsumami left her lesson, she demanded a prize. "Sorry, no prizes this week." (I made the mistake of doing that with her once.)
"If you don't give me a prize, I'm going to be bad," she said with a scowl. I pointed out that the lesson was over, and she had already been quite good.
"You might want to rethink that strategy," I said as I handed her her books and ushered her out the door.
That's how it is for the kids in this culture. Obedience is currency. Poor tykes.