MONEY

The best things in life are free
But you can keep it for the birds and bees.
Now gimme money (that's what I want)
That's what I want (that's what I want)
That's what I want, ye-ye-yeh,
That's what I want.

I know someone who works in the financial world. He is so upset by the current economic nightmares this country is experiencing that he is having trouble eating and sleeping. Every day, he sees people who are losing their homes, their savings, and their hope. He says it is going to get so much worse, for all of us. He sits in the middle of this, can't escape it.

I feel his sadness and fear, but from a different place. This country has gone through many hard times; my own parents were shaped forever by their experiences growing up in the Great Depression, for better or worse. My mother always had, still has, terrible difficulty not hoarding and collecting, saving for the rainy day, holding on to everything like it is all gold, all useful. Everything is used to its last possible function, from melding the scraps of soap bars together for a couple more hand washes, to clipping coupons, to wearing clothes of mine that I cast off over 20 years ago because they are "still good." When she had to go back to work when I was 12 because we had no money left, she wore the same white uniform, washed every night, for five years. FIVE YEARS. Even when my dad's business finally took off, it took years to convince her she could quit her crappy job. She wanted backup, rainy day money, security, even long after it was clear they had more than enough. Fear.

Money don't get everything it's true.
What it don't get I can't use.
So gimme money (that's what I want)
A little money (that's what I want)
That's what I want, ye-ye-yeh,
That's what I want.

My dad had the exact opposite reaction to the long long years of deprivation of the Depression and WWII. Money in was money spent. He had no kind of savings or pension set up until he was in his 60s. Don't get me wrong -- he could be very generous with his money, and I never went hungry or without a home, without medical or dental care when I needed it. We always had a car, enough for some new clothes and shoes when needed. We qualified for government assistance, but my parents were too proud, too of their time to take it. But when the time came, late in his life, that he had a large amount of money to play with, in part because of the penny-pinching and sacrifices my mother had made all those years, he spent it all, mainly on himself. It was no healthier than my mother still wearing my Girbaud jeans from 1988 and sending me shampoo from 1979 and rectal suppositories from (I AM NOT KIDDING, PEOPLE) 1964.

When I called her after I received the shampoo and ancient poop loosener, after I had gotten over the bulk of my shock and convulsive laughter, I asked her WHY WHY WHY WHY did you save this stuff for so long and WHY did you send it to ME NOW? Her answer?

"Those things never go bad, do they? Can't you use them sometime?"

Money, or lack of it, makes people a little nutty.

Your lovin' give me a thrill
But your lovin' don't pay my bill

I hope my friend finds a way through this crisis as a stronger and wiser person, and he doesn't let it affect him too badly. There is so much more to see.

There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game.
It's easy.

Nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time.
It's easy.

All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need.