I’m not sure how I feel about all the economic transition periods the advertizing world has established for us. I mean, when I got started as a miniature adult the advertizing world had not yet seen me as a consumer. There were no credit cards and I could not get a loan without daddy’s help. Mom would not do. She was a housewife. I needed a working responsible adult. Dad signed for my car loan. That was tough for him. He had never had a loan before. He paid cash for everything. When I decided to return to college after a little more than year of car payments, I decided to sell the car. But dad would not let me. I kept the car and he made the payments. Not my plan, but greatly appreciated. The details are another story all together.
My daughter’s high school graduation was another matter. She began to get what seemed like dozens, maybe even hundreds of offers for credit cards, if that’s what you call them. She had to place a minimum on “her card” and they made interest on her loan to them while they paid “her charges” from “her money.” That sounded too much like cash to me so my wife and I threw the offers in the trash. Bless her heart, she never knew she got those awful offers.
About the time I turned 40, additional credit card offers began to pour in weekly. Maybe daily. If I had taken every offer I got I think I could have bought anything I wanted. Naturally, I would not have ever been able to pay the debt. My offers were genuine credit, not me pay them and they pay my bills with my cash and my interest. Fortunately I resisted those temptations, but I was tempted.
I did play the rotating credit card game for a while. When a new offer came in offering no interest for a year I moved all my money and kept doing it until the card was paid off. I’m glad I didn’t do that for long, but some big bill probably came in that I did not have the money to pay.
As I got close to my golden years (feels more like tin years), I got plenty of offers for retirement communities, disability insurance and long term care facilities. Those may have all been good options, but I was living too close to the financial edge. Besides, they were all way over my economic head. I needed offers for the poor. Didn’t get any of those.
Now they want to put me in a wheelchair or scooter and when I can’t handle that any more, they want to burn me to a crisp and put me in a very expensive glass jar. Did you know I can prepay for all of that? Now the day may come when I want a wheelchair or even a high-speed scooter. I’m even considering being cremated. It’s cheap and I like the fertilizer I could become for my daughters garden. OK, that’s crude, but they live on five acres of forestland and they have a nice view of the canal, like I’ll ever see the view. If I was being sold a burial plot they would emphasis the view and tranquility. Spread on her land I would have both and be near them.
Okay, if you know me, you know I think that’s a bunch of hogwash. Frankly, I want to leave as much as possible to my daughter, and I plan to go straight to glory so will not need a place with a view or even one that is tranquil. They need the money and I want them to have it. Terminate my body on the earth in the most economical way. Keep what little I will leave for those who will follow me later and need what I might have. And please, do not try and have any offerings for eternal peace forwarded. I’ve made my own arrangements.
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