The Cost of Living

I turned seven  in 1971. I was an active member of the national work force–as a landscape technician. I also dabbled in the intrigues of treasure hunting, exploring old, abandoned mines, decrepit buildings, and ghost towns in search of useful stuff.

Being an active treasure hunter was in my blood. My dad lived by what he called the “Law of Salvage.” This law dictated that anything found alongside the road, in ditches, in old, abandoned places could be fair game in the claims game. His mantra, on a child’s level, matched the playground rule, “Finders keepers; Losers Weepers.” The stuff I found, I traded to my brother for better stuff, sold to friends, or kept in the numerous treasure boxes I kept around the house.

Of course, following his Law of Salvage, dad did not believe in breaking any laws, so any found treasures had to be free of any previous owners. There were strict codes against theft of any kind!

One time, in 1971, I was low on cash so I searched through the wood shed where dad kept his yard tools, camping stuff, and other superfluous items that had value. I dug out an old hand-operated egg beater and figured I could make a few bucks on it if my sales pitch was right. I walked up and down the dirt roads near my house, knocking on doors, looking for a buyer. Grandpa bought it, but only after we dickered on price for awhile. His views on the fair price of good, used egg beaters differed quite a lot from mine. I asked for five bucks; we settled on two.

After I pocketed the money from my sale and walked off, he called my house and asked mom if she and dad were desperate and needed money.

We lived on River Street in 1971, in a small house with three bedrooms, a big pot-bellied stove in the center of the house, and a cedar-shake roof over our heads. We weren’t rich, but I didn’t care. Food was on the table around 5:00 p.m. every day. That’s when we gathered as a family to pray and eat. I enjoyed plenty of play time.

My family rode around town in a blue and white, Ford van with a six cylinder engine. It had a manual transmission with a ‘three-on-the-tree,’ shift lever. This van carried us to the store, to church, and into the mountains to hunt deer, camp, fish, and just ride around when there was nothing else to do.

In 1971, I began to understand all there was to know about the cost of living. Most of the money I had, I used for playing, gum, and candy. I earned it in the summer time mowing lawns and doing special chores for mom. I had two, sometimes three, lawns that were my responsibility. Dad made a two-wheeled cart that I could tie to the sissy bar on my bike so I could tow my old, side-shoot mower down the road. Pushing a lawn mower across town is not cool – even for a 1st grader.

I bought gas for my mower at Dick’s gas station on Main Street. There was no ‘self-serve’ in those days, so Dick would usually come out and fill up my metal gas can. I never had more than about 50 cents in my pocket, so that’s what he would charge. I really didn't internalize that I had just bought a gallon of gas. I only wanted my can full so I wouldn't have to keep coming back for more. Fifty cents was only valuable according to what it could buy…a full can of gas, a couple packs of Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum (my favorite), and four glazed donuts at Saveways were common purchases.

I viewed economics and finance on a personal level. What would a few cents get me in the form of food and entertainment and could I buy low and sell high in some cases? One time, I walked to the store during school lunch hour, bought a package of Pop Rocks for 50 cents, walked back to school and sold them to a kid for 75 cents. At that moment, I innocently cashed in on the laws of Supply and Demand.