Skip to main content

Take It With You

Occasionally I still hear someone speak of a "depression mentality."  What they mean, of course, is a Great Depression mentality.    What passes for stingy behavior could well have its roots in surviving the Great Depression of the 1930s.  Certainly my parents, who were married in 1932, displayed a bit of this behavior.  My father would come unhinged if someone left a light burning in an empty room.  My mother, always giving and thoughtful, was fairly good at stretching a meal or making due with less.
     These days, even in tough economic times, people seem less inclined to hoard.  In my town, restaurants are usually full and even though prices have doubled and tripled on some things in the last 10 years or so, you wouldn't know we';re still in the throes of a deep malaise.  Younger folks seem to be willing to share, care, and otherwise help those less fortunate.  There is a coffee wagon in my town that has a chalkboard menu outside that overlooks the street.  If an item has a mark or two (I III IV) that means someone has paid for an extra and if you want/need a latte or cup of coffee it's already been paid for.  Pretty cool, no?  This allows those to help and be helped without it being a big deal.  There is a bakery where people pay what they can.  Sometimes, people of means will just lay $20. worth out there for the taking.


     I wonder, though, how those who are really well off relate to these ventures.  Certainly there are some inspirational wealthy folks who spread their wealth around.  Bill Gates has given many an underprivileged scholar a free ride to the college of their choice.  But he's outrageously wealthy.  What about others?  I recall people coming to garage sales in a Mercedes and quibbling about weather to pay 15 or 25 cents for some insignificant item.  The old adage that the reason they are well off is because they are miserly seems sufficiently proven on occasion.
     The only really wealthy person I know is quite elderly...how about 92...but suffers from a full blown Depression mentality.  This person is estimated to be worth upwards of 15 million.  A long professional career, good investments, weathering a few economic storms have led to this.  But one time, a few years ago, I was driving said person and a few friends to a dinner engagement.  On a busy freeway I noticed a car with personalized license plate.  It read: GIV BAC.  I remarked to my fellow passengers that I thought it was a most interesting plate.  The person was driving a very nice car, probably a Lexus, but felt the need to take a stand for all to see.  As my carload of fellow travelers noticed the license plate  they all nodded in recognition.  All except one.  You know who.  The multi-millionaire had no idea what the significance of that plate could be.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Quality of Optimism

 I've returned to The Book of Qualities, by J Ruth Gentler once again to meet the needs of one of the senior students in my little Writing From Memory class I'm currently teaching in my local community center.  This little volume personifies various concepts and personality traits.  The particular student "in need" seems to be fixated on writing about her past relationships.  Apparently, there were many.   I'm OK with that.  I only hope that she picks a few qualities that are as revealing about herself as those that might describe her Ex's.  There is much to be learned by writing about a quality.  The aforementioned book seems to have survived well over the years.  I first encountered it and its author way back in the late 1970s.  I took a journal writing workshop from her.  Then, a few years later, her book came out and I introduced these writing exercises to my students.  11th grade Juniors seemed to do the best with it. ...

Mr. Greene v. Mr. Brown

I want to tell you about something. Something I've carried inside myself for a number of years now. Perhaps if I were a different kind of person I wouldn't need to talk about it. I'm not. My need to tell it is stronger than your need to hear it. Because, however, there are a number of teachers and former students of mine who may read these meanderings from time to time, I need to tell this story all the more. About 7 or 8 years ago I was asked if I would allow a university PhD. candidate to observe an English class. At first I decided against it because I was scheduled to have a student teacher placed with me the second half of the semester in question. After some urging, however, at the request of a respected colleague, I agreed. Soon I was committing to extra meetings, signing documents and explaining to the class in question who the young woman who thoughtfully pounded away on a laptop in the rear of the classroom three times a week was. I knew that the topic of ...

Writing on the Wall

       The first time I saw graffiti that was memorable was in a middle school bathroom.  As 6th graders I often walked home with friends by the middle school we'd soon be attending.  A stop by the boys bathroom near the boys gym placed me face to face with a piece of graffiti that immediately madame and my friends laugh uncontrollably.  On the wall above the urinals, was penned a short poem that read"                     This is a Teepee to take a pee pee,                         Not a wigwam to beat your tom tom      14 year-old humor at it's best.  The laughter my friends and I experienced was cathartic.  Being bottom of the barrel Freshmen could have dire consequences in the boys bathroom.  Those unpleasantries would come later, but for the moment, we were ecstatic and proceeded to read all the g...