Nothing is sure in life but…

This isn’t going to be a long drawn out post (because I have ceilings to paint), but I do need to make a brief comment on it.

There is a big bruhaha about a law professor and his wife who earn $455,o00 who blogged that he can’t afford a tax hike.  Here is a link to a copy of the original post.   I am not going to get into this guy’s finances, but I do feel like it is my job as a good, upper-middle class liberal to say something here.

We earn less than a quarter of this guy’s family right now because Mr. A is working for the government. I am guessing that guy’s lifestyle and ours are probably similar though.  We have school loans we will be paying forever and a day.  We want to live in a nice neighborhood and have a nice home.  We prioritize our childrens’ educations.  We choose to spend our money on these priorities.  We don’t feel rich, but we certainly aren’t living in poverty.

At less than 25% of that guy’s income, WE can afford more taxes.  We can afford them because we have room to make choices in our budget.  We are choosing to buy a house instead of rent it (and choosing to paint the ceilings!).  We choose to live in a school district that costs more.  We choose to pay down the school debt that was an investment in the relatively pleasant lifestyle we have right now, because we chose schooling that would lead to this.

I am happy to pay my taxes.  In fact, I would gladly pay more to help out those who don’t have the luxury of choosing how to spend their money.  If higher taxes means that more children are educated in competent schools,  I can cut back on some trips to Target.  If everyone has health care, I can take a less-fancy vacation.  If everyone has enough to eat, safe neighborhoods and the right to dignity in their old age, then I can eat out a few times less.

Cutting back on luxuries does not equal poverty.

I choose to believe our country (one of the richest in the world) can be better.  We can tighten our upper middle class (and SuperRich) belts a little for our neighbors and friends who are less fortunate.

I believe that a better educated population benefits all of us.  I believe none of us can feel secure until no one is homeless or hungry or living their old age in poverty.  The safety net is for everyone.  If one day Mr. A becomes disabled or loses a job or some other catastrophe happens to our family, I want to know there is a safety net there waiting for us too.  I want to know that being down on my luck doesn’t mean I have to lose my dignity and my humanity.

Let’s do unto others and share with our neighbors (and family and friends) and care for the least among us.  Paying more taxes is the least we can do.

September 23rd, 2010 | Category: Money, Politics | 20 comments

Weird Stuff in our New House: The Cistern

There is so much weird stuff in our new house, this is going to have to be an ongoing series.  I thought about doing the first post on the basement, but when I looked at the pictures I realized there is way too much weird shit in the basement for one post.  I think I have enough material there for at least FOUR posts.

So we will start with the oddest (to me) thing about the house: The Cistern.

We didn’t even notice the cistern when we first looked at the house.  It is hidden behind this innocent looking wooden door about 4.5 feet up the basement wall. I should have suspected something was up when the door had a padlock on it, but I didn’t.

The cistern was apparently once used for laundry water. It is a giant concrete reservoir that holds (according to this little sign stuck on the inside of the door)  2858 gallons of water.  It is deep. It goes father down than we can reach with a long stick.

Water comes in through a downspout attached to the gutters on the house (we think). There are two overflow pipes that appear to siphon off any overflow.  There is also an elaborate gear/pulley system that must do something, but we aren’t sure what.

There are several pipes that come out of the wall down near the ground that must once have attached to a primitive laundry machine.  It is quite possible it was last cleaned in 1956 by F. Ball.  If I could find F. Ball, I would hire him to clean it again because it kind of freaks me out.  We haven’t been able to locate a cistern expert, so we are making our best bet as to what we should do with it.  (And by our best bet, I mean what our home inspector who specializes in old houses told us to do.)  We treated the water with swimming pool shock and cross our fingers that nothing else happens.

The cistern is the first thing Mr. A shows anyone who visits.  When we took M on a tour of the new house, he picked her up and showed it to her.  Then he gave her a lecture about NEVER EVER opening it because she could drown in there. (As if anyone in their right mind would not only open it, but climb into that grody hole in the wall.) M is now terrified of the basement.  Lovely.

One of our neighbors has a similar cistern. They have plans to rig a pump up to it to run yard sprinklers.  I like that idea, but I don’t know if we will get around to it.

September 20th, 2010 | Category: Home Sweet Home | 11 comments

The Proverbial Chinese Stick

Tonight, I ran to the library and left Mr. A in charge of doing Math Fact flashcards with M. Because the house is still a wreck of un-unpacked boxes, Mr. A chose to give M 2o math problems instead.

M, being seven, did not want to do 20 math problems.  Instead of just getting them over with, she drew a picture on her paper of Mr. A and labeled it “Big  Fat Meanie Daddy.”

Yeah. Not cool.

Mr. A, being himself, then gave M the following lecture:

“You are not working hard. You are complaining.  This is not good behavior.

Do you know when Gong Gong and Amah came here from Taiwan, they didn’t have any money.  All they had was hard work.  They worked hard to make it here.  Your daddy doesn’t come from money and everything we have is because we worked hard. You will learn to work hard too. You will have to finish these problems in the morning while you are eating breakfast.”

I am not doing the lecture justice because it was very long and boring.  It left M writhing on the bed in agony.  Little did she know the bullet she dodged.  The lecture Mr. A really wanted to give M was one his mom gave him all the time (possibly followed by a smack with a ruler):

“Why are you complaining? You know in Taiwan, children are doing CALCULUS in second grade.  In China, there are children who don’t even have books!  All they have is a STICK and a CHALKBOARD and they do their math problems.  They don’t do 20, they do 200!  Americans are lazy!  You will not be lazy!”

Honestly, I am a much bigger fan of the second story because the first one is pretty much a lie.  Mr. A’s father grew up in a very wealthy Taiwanese family and had an inheritance when he came here.  He had servants who did his homework for him when he was younger too.  He didn’t work very hard, though to be fair it was probably because he was crazy on top of being spoiled.

That lecture is one the first of what I expect are many to come.  Mr. A really feels it is his duty to pound a Chinese work ethic into the girls.  I suppose I should be glad he doesn’t use me and my lack of work ethic as the example of “lazy Americans.”  heh.

Also, those more astute readers among you might notice that Mr. A neglected to mention M’s disrespectfulness and only focused on her work ethic.  Once I heard the story, M got a second lecture about respecting her parents and other adults.  It takes a village, yo.

p.s. Mr. A wanted me to name this post “How You Become Asian.” I passed.

September 17th, 2010 | Category: Marvelous Miss M | 15 comments
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