Where Does It All Go

I recently got a pay raise, one of those cost of living things of 2-3%.   I’m not sure about your cost of living, but mine sure feels like it’s increasing by more than 2-3%.

One of the interesting things about our generation is that salaries have skyrocketed since we entered the workforce and now it seems like we are making exorbitant amounts of money, compared to what we started out making, but we still have to scratch our heads and wonder where it’s all going.

I guess it is human nature to live on what you make.  When your salary goes up you get a few new things or make a change or two to your life style, but either way, you continue to live on what you make.  Of course, I have a savings plan, a 401K and some stock, so I’m trying to build as big of a nest egg as I can, but I always wonder how much is enough?

I now make more than I’ve ever made before in my life.  I’m not as close to 6 figures as I’d like to be, but maybe one of these days I’ll get there.  I do know this much, I probably make more in a year than my Dad saw in his life. 

 

When I look at that, it looks odd.  It looks like I’m bragging about making a ton of money, but I don’t.  Dad was a farmer.  He raised almost everything they ate, so he didn’t need to buy most of the food they needed.  If he didn’t grow it, he would trade something he grew for it.  Plus, he owned the farm so there was no mortgage to worry about.  So money, at least to my father, was necessary but not of the importance it is now.  He was used to not having much, if any, for long stretches of time.

If I lost my job, there is no way I’d get by.  I would adjust obviously, as I’m sure we all would, but I don’t know that I could adjust to using a minimal amount of money.  I don’t know beans about farming (pardon the pun), so I would need some cash flow.

When I started working for a wage at 14, the minimum wage (if I remember right) was $1.25, or thereabouts.   A 40 hour week earned me a whopping 50 bucks, before taxes. I drop more than that now just taking the family out to dinner.

When I started work at Maremont right after graduation, I think I made $1.40 to $1.50 an hour - a little bit more, but no gold mine.  In comparison, my youngest son worked a summer job the past two years and at times, depending on where they worked, he could get as much as $22 an hour.  He thinks he’s broke if he has no folding money.  If he cashed in all the coins in his room and car, he could get $10-$15, but all he sees is coins.  My, how times have changed.

Then in November of 1970, I joined the AF.  I made a staggering $62.00 every two weeks.  I made more at 14 than I did at 19.  And, if that wasn’t bad enough, I got married with that salary.  Talk about tough times!  But, you know how it is when you’re 19 and think you know everything.

Then in September of 1972, Tricky Dick signed a bill that gave me a 100% pay raise.  We ballooned up to $125.00 every two weeks.  That helped, but our life style adjusted to our new windfall in no time.

But in all fairness a coke was 10 cents, a pack of cigarettes was 27 cents and a gallon of gas was about 25 cents.  I could take $10 on payday, fill the car with gas, and buy a carton of cigarettes and a case of beer.  Oh, those nasty, costly habits.

Actually, looking at it that way, I make more in a year now than I made in the first 10 working years combined.  So, I out earning me in a way too, just like I did my Dad.

I think Dad was more at peace with the world, though.

What Do You Do With the Bad Ones?

We all have our favorite memories. The good ones. They usually bring a smile and concern someone, some place or some time special to us. In fact, we sometimes treat them like a favorite toy; taking them out and playing with them, rolling them around in our mind so we can feel the warmth they bring back to our being.

But what do you do with the bad memories? We all have them also, but instead of making us feel warm, they have sharp and jagged edges that can bother us as much now as when they happened.

It might be something that someone did to us, or something we did that we would like to take back, but the memory is just as strong as a good memory, and stays right there, teetering on the edge of our consciousness, ready to spring on us at a moment’s notice. And when they do spring on us, they tend to deflate any good mood we might be in.

Actually, sometimes we intentionally yank one open. Maybe it’s to review it against some new information we’ve discovered, or we simply can’t believe something like that happened to us. Whatever the reason though, rarely does a bad memory become anything other than a bad memory. It will haunt us until we die, and at times will even seem like it will be around long after that.

Can you still face the person, place or thing that created the bad memories? Some people try. They want to slay those dragons and believe the only way they can is to deal with them directly.

Maybe that’s true, but I’m not so sure I can do it. I deal with them by trying to forget them, or I dwell on the good ones, hoping they will eventually smother the bad ones.

No wonder we get wrinkles and grey hair as we age.