The “How to Survive Life” Manual – Part I

My last entry got me to thinking that I might have sounded just a tad ‘angry.’ Who, me?! Nooo…not angry at all! I’m just a bit miffed. What I wanted to sound “funny” came out a bit caustic, and for that I apologize. I really am a great neighbor and love my neighborhood, and in fact, I am thought of as the “mom” of the entire block! I am the only one who is home during the day time, so I get to let my neighbors’ dogs outside, bring them back in and at times, feed them; I accept UPS deliveries for everyone in case it needs a signature, water their gardens and houseplants if they are away, and basically tend to the care and feeding the more mundane details of their lives, and their homes in their absence. Since I got ill and became unable to work outside my home, I have not been busier.  I’m seriously thinking of going back to work, just to get some rest!

It’s just that now I’m at the age group where I can look back over my life, and measure it against things that are going on in the world today. It’s called “Experience”, and believe me, what they say is totally true: Experience is the best teacher.  Trust me: we did it all without a self-help group, telethon, marathon, counseling, or how-to manual. And, we survived it all.

When I see today’s young couples’ quasi-mansion homes outfitted with the latest and greatest in electronic technology (huge flat -screen TV’s, computers throughout the house, Game-Boys left carelessly on the floor, and two or more vehicles in the driveway, plus a camper, motorcycle, boat or other large toy, etc., etc.) and then I am bombarded by their complaints on how they can barely afford next month’s mortgage or rent, I tend to get a little cynical, and more than a bit cranky. My compassion level dips a bit and I find it hard to “commiserate.” All I can think of is, “Just wait until Life steps up and smacks you in the face with a really painful, mysterious, and chronic illness like AVN and you need to deal with all of that – then, I’ll feel really bad for ya.” But, to feel sorry for someone who put himself into the poorhouse because he had to ‘have it all and have it right now’?? No. Not in this lifetime! In fact, to get completely down to the nitty- gritty, I know no less than four couples who filed for bankruptcy – and then went on vacations less than month later!! Their explanation? “We figured we owed it to ourselves to treat ourselves since we have been feeling so down!” Good Lord Almighty! Someone skipped a few chapters in the “How to Survive Life” manual! What more could I or anyone possibly say to them that would make any sense at all to them? Not a damn word. Bank on it.

I’ll never forget my first marriage and what-all I went through to keep things together. That was back in the old days, when credit purchases were starting to  come into their own, and people were buying stuff very timidly on the “buy now, pay later” plan. We had a credit card, too, but hardly ever used it. Our theory was “if we can pay for it, then we can have it.” Silly of us by today’s standards, I know, but that’s how we were. The credit card was for emergencies only, objection over- ruled, case closed (bang gavel!).

We managed to have four babies in four years, and had at least two of them in diapers at any given time– and owned no washing machine or clothes dryer. Pampers were just being introduced, and no self-respecting young mother would be caught dead putting them on her precious baby. So, my life revolved around baby care all day long, then laundry at the laundry-mat every other evening or so. Sun, rain, sleet or snow, I lugged baskets of clothes around until one day I had had enough!

“We need a washer and dryer!” I cried. My then-husband just looked at me as if I had said, “There is a little green Martian at our door and he’s demanding our first-born!”

As God is my witness, the man said to me, “What for?” (Maybe this helps to explain why he is a former husband).

“So that I don’t kill someone!” I growled. He probably correctly figured I meant him.

So, at work the next day, he inquired if anyone had a used washer they would like to unload. It just so happens, someone did. It was old, he told my Mr. Wonderful, but it still had some life in it. For $50 dollars, the new/old washer was all ours.

I could barely contain my glee as he hooked it up for me! Visions of relaxing in the living room while the machine beat the dirt out of our clothes filled my head. Shivering with excitement, I was almost in heaven!

“Come in here a minute,” he called out to me. He lifted the lid to the machine and I could not believe what I was seeing! Instead of those paddle-thingees that go back and forth to swish the clothes around, there was….nothing. It was just a big, empty round barrel. But, the most interesting feature was the barrel itself: it looked to be made of, of all things, rubber. Guess what? It Was.

My father, who sold furniture and appliances for years, came over to check it out for us.

“Hmmmm…., “ he said, peering inside the cavern of the machine,  “I haven’t seen one of these in a dog’s age!”

“What kind of washing machine is this, anyway, Dad?” I asked with growing dread.

“We used to call this model the “Douche bag” in the industry,” he replied, a grin spreading slowly from ear to ear. Well, I had news for him! That’s exactly what I was calling it right about then!

“No, seriously…the idea is the machine will pull the rubber liner in toward the clothes and out again, over and over….then in the final phase, ‘the big squeeze’ will push the water out of them, “ he said. “It’s done by some sort of vacuum system, but the idea never really caught on,” he finished. “You have a very rare piece of machinery here, and who knows? It just might still work!” he added with a wink.

The next day, I filled the machine with dirty diapers (yeah… I know…what was  I thinking?!) and let the water run into the machine. I turned it on. All kinds of noises ensued and for the life of me, it appeared the machine was doing its thing! Then came the glorious rinse cycle – the pointer on the dial was getting close to the “Done” letters, printed in chipped red paint. Suddenly, the washer fell silent. The pointer had landed on “Done.” Odd, I thought: precious little water had come out of the machine. I lifted up the lid and cautiously reached in to pull out the diapers. There was just one minor problem: they were totally soaking wet. I mean, the dam broke, tidal wave time, get Noah on the phone because it’s time to launch the Ark soaking wet. For what seemed like an eternity, I stood at the sink, hand-washing, rinsing and wringing out diapers until my skin started to slough off. (It was also at that moment in time that I decided never to get pregnant again!)

We hung on to that douche bag washer for the next six months or so, but never used it again. Back and forth to the laundry-mat I went, ad nauseum. Then, Mama stepped in! She got my dad’s ear but good, and one fine sunny day a brand new washer appeared on our door step, a gift from my mom and dad.

But, that’s how we did it in the ‘old days.’ We built up our homes and our material goods as we could afford them, or until someone took pity on us and gave us some. By the time my kids were in grade school, I had both a washer and a dryer and let me tell you, I felt like a queen! No one ever appreciated a pair of appliances like I did. They weren’t the latest, greatest, or most expensive, but they got the job done and I loved them.

Young people today have no clue how to survive! If it isn’t instant, it isn’t worth waiting for. If it’s not the latest and most expensive, it isn’t even worth considering. And, God forbid, if something newer comes along, well, then, out with the old and IN with the newer one. But, someone forgot to check the chapter on, “If you can’t PAY for it right now, then you can’t really afford it” in that manual I mentioned.

I swear, I think I know what the world needs right now: that book! If I get miffed enough, I just might start writing it myself!