It's just a "day in the life".
I'm not an ordinary American, nor an average one. I am not American at all ... yet. I am part of what so many families have in common, a mixed family in which I am the Dad. There is a Mom, three kids in Grade School, three cats (for now because at least one of them is living on borrowed time ... nasty critter).
There are two more kids but they are older and live in England. We have two cars, one of which sits on the driveway having munched its transmission last fall. We have a pop-up camper and a massive legal battle going on with Bank of America. Look at my Diary list for the details of that.
Mom is a teacher, I am not currently gainfully employed.
Every family is unique. We can be pigeon-holed, put in demographic groups split by socio-economic status, religion, race and any other metric other people have decided to study. On a day to day basis it can be difficult to reconcile our personal circumstances with those of millions of others, yet we know we have much in common.
Some of those groups are large .... every family receiving some kind of Federal benefit would be in a large group, and all those with a net worth of one billion dollars a much smaller group.
Those studies would have my family mostly in the large demographics, the place most of us reside. I grant that if one were looking at the group that consisted an English husband, American wife and three children ... then we would be in that smaller group.
The candidates for President need to understand our life, and the lives of many millions just like us if they are going to make decisions that will directly impact the ones I hold dear. I know we have to compromise, so I will settle for them not understanding the evil cat.
So we have Willard "Mitt" Romney and Barack Obama. I'm going to tell you, and them, about my Monday. I think I know which of the two will get it, but you never can tell.
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Monday dawned bright and clear. It has cooled a little here in the southern plains. We really need rain. Ten inches of rain spread over two or three weeks would be ideal, but I am not too concerned about that at six thirty am. That is the time I get up. I don't have a daily job to go to but Jodie does. She is a High School teacher and we share coffee and chat for a half hour before she goes to work.
This morning her neck is hurting. It's been bad for a good few weeks now despite the steroid injections, the oxycodone and the fentanyl. She is sore. She rarely complains but I love her, so I know. I keep quiet just hoping we can get to Wednesday when she has an appointment with a neurosurgeon.
I have a list of jobs as long as my arm, and little enthusiasm for any of them. We haven't had any salary since June, and the money ran out at the end of last week. It's okay, we can feed the kids and do the necessary, and her child support check will clear into the bank and I can take care of the car insurance, a few bills and hope we don't run out again before the fifteenth. We do a similar dance to this every month, but September is always the worst because of the pay structure. We are not complaining about that, but on this Monday morning it is on my mind.
She gets in the car and turns the key and ... nuttin'. Tries again, and again the car refuses to do as instructed. Eventually I have a go and it finally cooperates. It seems the car doesn't much like Mondays either.
Jodie leaves and two of the kids wait for the big yellow bus. The third is still asleep and I'll get her up at seven thirty. Eventually she leaves too and I set about a few things around the yard and house. The yard is a mess so I drag out the tractor, the weedeater and the blower. All are gas powered and only the blower will start. Great! Tractor on charge, wait a bit and finally persuade it that it really does want to help me cut quite a lot of grass. Grass is cut. It will need doing again at the weekend to tidy it up a bit, and that pool is looking a bit neglected ... another thing to fix before winter.
Jodie comes home on her planning period. We have coffee and I rub in some topical pain relief. That is a daily routine. She hates to ask, and I would simply be annoyed if she didn't. The car seems to be running although she said it took some starting. Let's get to the weekend and I'll give it a full service. Off she goes again and I can resume yardwork ... It's really beginning to look like someone cares after a few hours.
Then the phone rings.
It's the owner of the bar where I run karaoke every Friday evening, and have done so for about eighteen months. He's a nice old guy with a decent family. That robs his words of any offence.
"Hi Steve. We've decided to do something different on Friday nights, so we won't be needing you. You've been wonderful, so thanks".
:: sigh ::
It was only six hundred dollars a month, but it paid for so much. You can make six hundred dollars go a helluva long way if you are careful, and we are. We have fun, we are generally happy, but that money is going to be very hard to replace and I start thinking about what we can cut out now.
Jodie has one of her regular doctors appointments after school and it's twenty miles away in south Tulsa. I worry a bit about the car making it, but there is no time for that because kids are drifting in from school and as the only parent here I am just about to be regaled with happy tales of a day well spent. They don't disappoint. I love that thirty minutes after they get home.. The math they have done, the injuries from PE, Mackenzie getting "first chair" sax, the stuff that magically appears from binders.
Jodie makes it home around five. Now we are complete. It's great that everyone goes off to do what they do all day, but it's far better when they are all back home, all safe and accounted for.
Michael has soccer practise and the local barbeque place has a great special offer on a family meal, so we decide to combine the two and treat the kids. Jodie takes the girls to collect Michael and she will bring supper home.
Then the phone rings.
"The car won't start" ... shit!
"Where are you?"
"At Trails End Barbeque, bring jumper cables".
I hop on the bike and am over there in about ten minutes. I take my multimeter too and the battery is reading two volts. This will be why the car won't start. Batteries that read two volts are not flat, they are broken and I'm wondering how much a new one costs. We eventually get it running with a jumpstart. It sounds a bit rough but the barbeque chicken is getting cold so we drive home as quickly as we can ... me following on the bike, just in case.
Jodie's Mom has a spare truck which we quickly arrange to borrow, and just as we are finishing up the chicken it arrives. Jodie's sister and her husband had it and they brought it by. Apparently the power steering on the truck is not working. That will really help Jodie's neck when she has to drive it to work in the morning. At least we have some transport. [It did hurt her neck. It was so hard to turn that she was in tears when she arrived at school, just two miles away].
Kids off to bed we sit down to watch TV, chat, think about the new list of jobs I now have to do tomorrow. Wash, rinse, repeat. Which simply serves to remind me of all that laundry that didn't get done today.
Like most families my Monday was simply a typical day. We all have our things we do, things we don't get done, pressures of work, money, cars breaking down. We don't complain about it, we recognise the normality. We wouldn't mind having to worry just a little less about money. I'd like to be able to treat my wife occasionally. Nothing fancy, just a meal out or a movie; something like that. We are happy and we share that with many others. Like everyone on the planet we feel that we are the center of the universe; and like everyone who understands anything at all, we know we are not.
We have been hurt by the recession. Jodie's pay has been cut, and the expenses have risen. My karaoke work, which can be a nice earner, is a discretionary purchase and few have the money. The gorgeous furniture I can turn out of my workshop is, by necessity, very expensive and orders are few and far between. If I cut my prices I can't make a living. In a bouyant economy maybe there would be more of a market, but not right now.
So we are hanging on the way so many are. We are better off than a lot of people. If you measure success by laughter and a happy family life, then we too are billionaires. Even billionaires have to pay the electicity bill though, and we can't take too many more set backs.
So I would like our leaders to understand. When they talk about deficits it means nothing to us personally. When they talk about tax policy it means a great deal. When I hear that we might have to pay another thousand dollars or so in federal income tax that is not just a number, it is a choice.
It is a choice about what we have to do without. Do the cell phones go? Should we cut out the cable? We don't go out much so a decent cable package is a help. If we were out in bars and restaurants a few times a week then we could trim that, but there is little fat and the thought of those with plenty getting more while I juggle the bills we can't pay does not sit well around here. I do fully understand that many poor people face much harder choices than that. However, we were middle class by income and lifestyle, and if we, along with many millions, are to join the working poor that does suggest a society that is going backwards, not forwards.
They need to understand that when they cut an education budget it is not simply numbers on a spreadsheet. It is our income, and we don't have much to spare. That it is also the future hopes and dreams of all of our children is yet another consequence.
When they allow unfettered capitalism to run the marketplace ... okay, that is a philosophy. Our monthly co-pays for Jodie's medications are quite high. Another five dollars on the plan is twenty five dollars a month to us and that is about the same as our water bill.
My family needs the President to understand these things. We long ago gave up any hope of our Oklahoma politicians having any understanding at all, so we need the President to get the simple fact that this is how Americans live, well many of them .... even when one of them is English, and even despite that cat!