Thursday, August 15, 2013

In Danger of Becoming a Cliche

On Saturday my husband decided he was uncomfortable driving his 1996 Ford F-150 with the extended bed. The truck has been on its way out for over a year and he knew the end was near but he was milking it because we like to get our money's worth. The irony is that he had just finished spending the afternoon test driving new cars. So Sunday morning we drove to the SkyHarbor Hertz office (the only one we thought was opened on Sunday) and rented a 2013 Toyota RAV4 for a week. My husband agreed to buy an automatic (I don't drive stick) small SUV so, unlike his former truck that I never liked but he had to have, I can drive it too. After extensive research including my husband butt testing the driver's seat of almost every type small SUV, we settled on a 2012 RAV4 through the Hertz Rent 2 Buy program. Yesterday it became available and we picked it up. Turns out that if we returned the 2013 RAV4 yesterday we'd have to pay a daily rate that works out to be more expensive than the great weekly rate (even with the additional airport fees & taxes) we got. So, I get to drive the 2013 RAV4 for the next few days while my husband test drives the 2012 RAV4 before we purchase it.

Here I am a well educated professional woman who left the working world to raise a child; living in the suburbs now driving an SUV and even worse, enjoying the ride. My Ford Focus is the last bastion left between me and becoming the mom of a child with special needs version of a middle class suburban SUV driving soccer mom (we drive our kids all over town to therapies, special schools and doctor appointments rather than sports practices and play dates). Good thing I changed my political party registration a few years ago from Republican to Independent or the cliche would be complete! Seems both my political party and my church have swung too far right for me so I await them coming back to their senses from the safety of the suburbs and now the comfort of our new SUV.

The summer of 1985 after my first year of law school I dated an MBA student determined to be a CPA because he lived for golf and wanted to be able to afford the country club lifestyle in which he was raised. His father was a physician originally from my hometown (purely a coincidence) who became a NYS Assistant Commissioner of Health during the Rockefeller years because his wife raised enough money for Rocky's campaign. I first met his parents when we paid a curtesy call (we were on our way out for a fun evening) at his godparents' annual hoedown on their "farm" complete with a large white tent, china, silver, vichyssoise and only enough hay grown for the party decoration bales. The barn where the square dance complete with fiddle band and professional caller was held no longer was home to any horses and my boyfriend explained that his godfather, the head of the local VA Hospital, was paid not to grow crops. He first introduced me to his mother and then was pulled away to greet his godmother. His mother's first words to me were "so you're a med student" to which I replied, "no, I just finished my first year of law school" and then endured the longest two minute pregnant pause of my life as I waited for my boyfriend to return and rescue me. That summer the NYS Legislature (I spent 4 sessions while in school as a NYS Senate staffer) loudly debated med mal and tort reform. Lawyers were the sworn enemies of doctors especially in Albany where we lived! My boyfriend next introduced me to his father whose first words to me were "so I hear you just finished your first year of med school" and after my response of "I'm a law student," without missing a beat he replied, "don't worry, our middle son is a lawyer and we still speak to him." From that moment forward even though I was very under dressed in a jean skirt (yes, I was told it was a hoedown) and had never before tried vichyssoise, I again found my confidence and survived the rest of the evening. 

I next spent time with my boyfriend's parents on a trip to Tanglewood to hear the Boston Pops; my first time at a live professional orchestra concert. We were supposed to spend the day at the local amusement park (my preference) but his parents invited us to join them. After the concert they invited me to their home for a simple dinner. My mother raised me well so I asked if I could help and his mother asked me to set the table handing me dishes that I discovered in the following Sunday newspaper Filene's ad were Franciscan Ware Classics on sale for $120 a place setting. It was then that I informed my boyfriend that if he wanted Wedgewood and Waterford he'd have to purchase it himself because I had no interest. His immediate response was to ask if his mother gave me a tour of the dining room. She hadn't which explained my shock upon discovering the value of her 40 year old "everyday" dishes that probably were even more valuable 1st editions. It certainly was another world compared to the La Menu leftover plates gracing my student apartment kitchen cupboard.

Growing up my father was a boy scout professional. We always had enough but my mother's good china, service for 16, was purchased a plate at a time from Loblaws. I now have it although we don't use it because currently formal dinners with friends and family are too much for our son. At the holidays we buy fancy paper plates (no washing required) and put out casual pick food catered by Costco for gatherings with a few close, understanding friends. Our son is gaining patience and is less overwhelmed by crowds so maybe one day my mother's plates will come out of storage along with the Bohemian crystal my husband bought for less than $100 in Prague on the St. Charles Bridge when he first visited in the early 1990's a few years after the Berlin Wall fell. We joke that my husband is the only groom we know who came with his own crystal. My mother reminded me a few weeks ago when I complained about something old my son broke that possessions are only things, replaceable and not what is really important. This outlook toward material possessions along with permission not to expect myself to be a perfect parent are among the most wonderful gifts my mother has given me.

I never was motivated to become an attorney by the lure of a large salary or a corner office. Dating the future CPA only solidified my convictions about the life I didn't want. I actually was very lucky we never got married even though his parents loved me. I was a young, well educated aspiring professional who was Catholic with hometown values; their perfect criteria for a future daughter-in-law. Chances are within 5 years I would have been miserable and divorced with at least one child as I discovered fidelity just wasn't my boyfriend's strong suit. It isn't surprising I began my career at Legal Aid and was known among my colleagues as a street lawyer prepared to brawl when necessary on behalf of my clients. From seventh grade (when I first decided to become an attorney) onward my passion for the law was motivated by my desire to help secure justice for ordinary people.

Even though I no longer actively practice law, my concern remains the same. I often share my advocacy experience with other parents and encourage them as they navigate the healthcare, education and social service delivery systems. It isn't the middle class families like mine for whom I am most concerned. We have the education and resourcefulness to find a way to get our children what they need. Since the 2009 Great Recession draconian state budget cuts to the social service safety net I've done my best to remind people about those who have no one to successfully navigate "the system" on their behalf. I worry most about the undiagnosed child with autism living in poverty born into a family for whom English isn't their primary language. While I always first speak for my son, I also feel obligated to speak for those children facing even more obstacles to receiving treatment and services. 

For many years I've felt just a little bit uncomfortable spending money. It took me some time to adjust after getting married to not earning any money (I first began working at 15 to save for college) even though I came into our marriage with a little savings along with my student loans and my husband came into it with a decent salary but more debt. Over the years my husband's salary has more than doubled and my student loans are paid off as is his debt. We're even saving a bit for retirement. Although I am not as frugal as I once was, my husband teases me that I still am a "cheap" date unimpressed by price alone. My husband works hard for the money he earns and my enjoying the comfortable, but not too comfortable, lifestyle it affords us is a point of pride for him. Although he grew up in suburbia; the child of parents who chose to do what was necessary to live in the "right" neighborhood, his priorities of safety and just enough comfort align much more with my upbringing than his own. This material balance comes more naturally to my husband and parents while I continue slowly growing more comfortable with it. My husband and I still remain acutely aware that although we currently are in a much different financial position than most, one layoff, one illness and there but for the Grace of God our fate becomes very different. Being laid off along with a third of my law school classmates from my legal dream job turned nightmare during the 1990 Recession plus spending a year with my husband laid off after the 2001 Recession triggered the Dallas Telecom Corridor meltdown are life lessons never to be forgotten. However, today I'm going to contine enjoying to drive the 2013 RAV4 until we return it tomorrow and once in a while I might even treat myself to driving our new 2012 RAV4 instead of my beloved Ford Focus.

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