My dad told me that when he was little, he wanted to play the saxophone. My grandfather made him play the clarinet instead because it was cheaper. He uses this example, goes on to describe how his father dealt when he told him he wanted to be a writer.
My father and his father are starkly opposite in their political views. They are also vastly similar in their financial matters. It is my understanding that many view the left wing/right wing battle as a finance management issue... riddle me that.
Our family went through homelessness on two occasions because my father was not comfortable settling for a house which wasn’t the best possible deal. Some parents in said situations would settle when things got as rough on the children as they did but not my father. He’s at stubborn as my grandpa. I obtained a lot of emotional stress, which I can’t seem to rid myself of, since the homeless adventures. I found shame having to shower at friends houses or the gym and ask people for favors when I just simply didn't have any other option. I'm hyper sensitive to asking for help now, I feel like at that point we just weren't taking care of our own family and it was downright humiliating. I think that it was a trigger setting me off in a different direction completely than my parents.
I plan to succeed. I came up with my slogan: I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing something!
“Doing Something,” that’s a loaded statement, you see. I come from a town called Missoula, Montana. It is a college town and it’s a mix of granola and beef jerky, hippies and lone riders. Nothing ever seems to get done in any sort of a timely fashion. In fact, I started to realize that nothing was really getting done at all. People drive ten miles below the speed limit, and not just on Sundays. I talked to my mother on the phone one day this winter, she said, “There is about half a foot of snow so things have, you know, slowed down a little bit.” SLOWED DOWN A LITTLE BIT! I thanked my lucky stars at that moment for that one day when I’d really had enough and I (literally) got in my car and sped on out of there!
The environment I am working in now, at Tart Collections, is very “high-end” and it is very California. My father uses the argument, “People in California live shitty apartments and drive fancy cars.” When I visited here on vacations, I thought the same thing, “how ridiculous these people are!” Now, I have a bit of a different approach: housing is expensive here! You get the car to move on up, to eventually fit in that high-end work world. Speaking of the work world, your work it your world since you have to work so much to pay for the high housing costs. Then you factor in a commute to work and you’ve got a recipe for a “fancy” car.
Coming full circle now, I am having a disagreement with my father over how much to spend on a new car. He wants me to spend $2000-$5000, I’m ready to throw $12000 on a 2006 Honda Civic. In my eyes, I’m going to increase my efficiency immensely with this car. In his, I should just get something that will get me by for a little while then go on to the next one once that one’s done.
Dear dad, how often do you wondered what it would be like to play the saxophone? I might be a horrible musician, but give me a change to pick my own instrument and learn that for myself? Maybe even trust that I might have some talent hidden deep down, and hey- I might even end up making a decent living off of it!
