Money, Money, Mo-ney
Do you remember Liza Minelli’s cabaret song, Money makes the world go around? Or the Abba song, “Money, money, money. It’s a rich man’s world?” Both songs have been running through my head this morning, especially when all that was in my wallet were a few wrinkled one dollar bills.
It’s hard to remember when I didn’t worry about money. When I was in my late teens, I was the penny-pincher. I don’t know why I was so worried about keeping money then. Whenever my parents ran out of money, they would borrow from the kids. This would be money we would earn outside the family by the way.
I only remember one time that my mother repaid me and it was in my twenties when I was going to college for a few semesters. Ironically I had to quit school because I couldn’t scrape up enough money to pay for school, books, and living expenses. So I trotted back home, hoping to find a job in my home town.
Unfortunately my home town was going through a mini-depression. Some one in government had decided to tax the drilling companies extra for the impact they were making in Utah. The companies decided it was too costly to do business there so they went over the border about twenty miles from our town and started drilling in Colorado. It was a graphic illustration of how taxes suppressed business.
So in my case I could not find a job. I was qualified. I gave good interviews, but the business owners who knew me and knew my mother would tell me they were saving the jobs for women who had to feed children. I was single in my mid-twenties so that made me a risk. I could leave at a moment’s notice.
My mother was in advertising so she knew most of the busness owners. It was after a few of them gave me the same story that I went to Salt Lake City to look for a job. Lucky for me, my grandparents lived there. Even making five dollars an hour in the 1980s, I barely made enough money to make the rent and buy food.
The Navy was my saving grace. In 1988 they were paying a living wage, plus you could live in the barracks and they would feed you. The first year I was in the Navy, I paid back all of the money that I owed to family and friends. Just for that alone, I loved what the Navy did for me. Plus I met my late-hubby there.
I quit worrying about money when I got married. For some reason, know that we had two earners in the family, made it much easier. The money flowed.
After his death I fought for every dollar.
Someone told me recently that money was like a river. It was all around us. It flowed to us, around us, and through us. Money was playful and money was giving. The more we gave, the more that money would give back.
I would love if the money would flow my way more. Maybe a money dance would work?