For What It's Worth #1
Even though we seldom realize it before adulthood, many of
our parents’ more benign ways of moving through the world leave an impact on
us.
Until this most recent musing, I would have said my
mother’s daily routines and beliefs influenced me much more than those of my
father.
It’s certain I inherited (or absorbed) my mom’s good
housekeeping practices (although not the strict regimen), her skill at
organizing, her tenaciousness when there’s a job to be done and her usually
sunny outlook.
While writing the 2009 memoir for my sons, I delved deep
into my father’s psyche, outlook and mannerisms. In doing so I came across many
more ways than I previously realized in which I mirror my father (in
addition to the love of spirited debate and arcane knowledge).
My father was not a businessman … in career or in thought
processes. He worked with engines, electricity and cables. He understood
machinery, knew how to rewind and rebuild motors, manage recalcitrant and balky
drive trains and coax old, worn-out elevators back to life.
Dad was the epitome of “honest to a fault.” For instance,
when he was on call for customers’ after-hours machinery breakdowns he chose to
charge his hours beginning with the time he arrived at the client’s business
and he did not charge mileage. He could have—all the other repairmen did. He
felt that practice simply wasn't right or fair to the customer.
The creases in his palms were permanently darkened from the
oily grime he encountered every day as he worked to provide for our family of
four.
When Dad arrived home in the evening he immediately went
through the back door and down to the basement. He took a cleansing shower and
changed into clean clothes. Up from the make-shift basement shower, refreshed
and ready for the evening, he met Mom at the kitchen doorway, where they always
exchanged a welcome home hug and
kiss.
In some of his free time, Dad enjoyed checking out thrift
stores and garage sales (although “garage sales,” per se, weren’t
as common as now). He enjoyed finding small pieces of broken, non-working
equipment which he tried to bring back to life or repurpose.
Once in a while he’d cart home some piece of furniture,
dish or appliance for Mother’s approval. She seldom thought his finds were all
that great. I remember Dad telling her the seller “… only wanted [this or that
price], but I said that was way too low," which caused my mother further
chagrin.
I recall more than a few times when my dad sold an item he
no longer needed or things he owned more than enough of -- maybe a set of
tires, or some firewood he’d cut from one of the many trees on our property, or
that “too good to pass up” second-hand whatsis he bought for
Mom. It never failed, when the prospective buyer came around, my father
downplayed the value, and invariably reduced his already low asking price.
For What It’s Worth #2
When I see something I would truly enjoy having, something
I maybe looked a long time to find, I’m often surprised to see the item isn’t
as expensive as I would have thought. No, I don’t request that Target, Cost
Plus or the local consignment store mark the price UP for me (with an income
lower than “middle,” I usually don’t buy the item anyway). However, I have been
known to offer a non-profit thrift store more money than asked for an item.
When selling (a piece of furniture, for instance), I often
minimize the value and end up practically giving the item away—while profusely
thanking the buyer.
I also tend to dismiss the intrinsic worth of my artistic
talents in, for example, poetry, essay, or decorating. Over the years I’ve been
hired to give advice on decor and gardening and I’ve been hired to help edit
essays for submission and books of poetry for publication. In every instance, I
demur when it comes to my fee. I essentially undersell myself.
I began working at 16-1/2 and have continued to work
through the years. I’ve been employed by good companies and in friendly
environments and always felt grateful for the jobs.
Never once in all this time have I asked any of my managers
for a raise in salary. I’ve received bonuses, as well as salary increases, but
not because I’ve verbally promoted myself. I simply do not know how to do that.
I await the largess of my employer, hoping my performance warrants an increase.
Oh, yes: thanks to both my parents, I know how to clean up
pretty darn good.
There is no such thing as absolute value in this world.
You can only estimate what a thing is worth to you.
Charles Dudley Warner 1829-1900, American writer
