Damn Capitalism

Being poor is hard.

I never really understood when I was growing up what it was like for my mom. We lived in a really odd sort of space, my step father's mother owned some property in one of the richest parts of Orange County, but we had nothing. So the old lady let my parents rent an apartment from her for dirt cheap, in a town where nothing was dirt cheap. I went to school with kids that lived in mansions, literally. The television show "The OC" was almost certainly based on where I grew up. The writer, I'm pretty sure, was a graduate of the high school I dropped out of.

So among the rich kids I always wanted what they had, not so much the pool slides from the 3rd story bedroom window, but I did want to have nice clothes. You know, the name brand stuff.

Now, I regret every "mom please" that I ever uttered.

Lucky for me, my son doesn't care about all that. He's grown up punk rock. Holes in your shoes just show character. But for me, it's hard. Holes in your shoes don't really show character, they show that you can't afford to get new shoes.

So I pretend to shop. I go online and look at things that I would buy if only I had the money. I load up my online shopping cart and then..... CLOSE THE WINDOW. In a strange way it's very comforting. Knowing that the stuff is out there, and maybe soon I can get some of it. Knowing that someday I might not have to worry about it. Someday I might not have to choose between shoes and vegetables. Between batteries for the Wii remote and toothpaste and toilet paper.

Dammit, I'm making myself get all sad. Enough of this.



When I'm a rich lawyer, or forensic anthropologist, or professor, or whatever, I'm going to buy tons of shit and give it to poor single mothers. Cuz man, we need it.