A STORY WORTH TELLING
“I can’t understand, where my money went/ Well, I’m not broke, but I’m badly bent.”
— Fred F. Carter Jr.
It’s January.
Christmas is behind us. The new year is well underway, and here I sit reviewing finances — leftover Christmas bills, through- the-roof homeowner insurance that has doubled in the last three years and car insurance accelerating faster than new auto prices. This doesn’t even account for those everincreasing real- estate taxes due this week.
I know costs rise and prices go up, but it would really help matters if incomes increased as quickly as expenses.
This brings to mind the old saying that my friend and mentor in the newspaper business, Jim Chionsini, used as a reminder at budget time for the new year: “If your outgo exceeds your income, your upkeep becomes your downfall.”
None of these financial concerns address the fact that as soon as we’ve hopefully cleared these firstof- the-year major hurdles, April 15 and the IRS will be staring at us squarely in the pocketbook.
On a brighter note, there’s a social-media reel going around featuring an adorable little guy with an infectious laugh who is apparently reading a math question from a workbook.
“Jaden has a $1 bill, one quarter and two pennies,” he slowly reads. “How much money does he have?”
After a short hesitation, the little guy looks up and laughs, “Jaden broke!”
There have been times when we’ve all probably been broke but just not savvy enough to know it.
You know, those times when we look back on life and wonder, “How did I ever do that?”
In college, I worked full time for an auto dealership body shop where my employer fortunately allowed flexibility in my 40 give-or-take hours to accommodate a commuting schedule to East Texas State University. Finagling classes scheduled all on A days or B days allowed me to work on the other days in Mount Pleasant, plus some hours when the shop wasn’t open, like nights until 10 p.m. and some Saturdays.
Although earning a four-year degree took me five years, I did it, graduating with a double-major degree in psychology and art. But that’s not the whole story.
During the same five years, I also bought and supported two vehicles: One daily driver and one “weekend warrior” race car that friend and mechanic Oscar Elliott and I campaigned on drag strips from Texas to Oklahoma to Louisiana.
How did I do all that? I have no idea.
Good money management? You don’t know me very well, do you?
Good economic times?
Well, if it was, I had no clue. I didn’t even have a budget — you know, one of those plans that keeps you from having too much month left at the end of your money.
This reminds me of the story the preacher shared in his sermon Sunday about a couple enduring hard times, working to make ends meet.
After agreeing on a workable budget, the wife was shopping at the mall when she saw a gorgeous dress and fell in love.
Rationalizing her feelings, she thought, “I really need a new dress.” But then she remembered the budget.
“It won’t hurt to just try it on,” she said.
And that’s all it took.
The dress went home with her.
She showed it to her husband, who could not believe his eyes.
“You bought a new dress,” he said in disbelief. “After all of our planning and discussion about finances and how to make ends meet, you bought a new dress?”
“I’m really sorry,” she said with remorse.
“I couldn’t help myself. I was in Dillard’s and the devil made me do it.”
“The devil,” her husband said with a laugh. “What about the scripture in Matthew Chapter 16 that says, ‘Get thee behind me, Satan.’” “ Well, I did that,” she replied sheepishly.
“And the devil told me that it looked good on me all the way around.”
So here I sit when I should be writing a column, trying to finetune my budget and work my way through finances for the new year. I just want to cry out, “Get thee behind me, checkbook.”
Instead, I’m staring at a stack of bills and remembering that cute youngster trying to solve Jaden’s money problem. I can hear him now.
“Leon, he’s broke, too.”
—Contact Aldridge at leonaldridge@gmail. com. Other Aldridge columns are archived at leonaldridge.com
