Anyone watch the Grammys last night? I didn’t get to watch in real time but my heart thrilled knowing it was happening – our beloved Hamilton was playing the Grammys! #Gram4Ham – We Won!
Then I kicked rocks because their performance reached an even wider audience, thus making it 10,000 times harder to get tickets. And I’m about to do my own plug to make it that much harder for me to get that #Hamiltunes #Ham4Ham love. Because I’m selfless like that.
If you’re a money nerd, this is for you.
If you know the hustle and grind, this is for you.
If you’re an immigrant’s kid relate to the immigrant experience, this is for you.
If you love the spirit of freedom and independence, this is for you.
If you just plain love catchy music, this is absolutely for you.
How does a bastard, orphan son of a whore
And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean
By providence, impoverished, in squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?
The 10 dollar
Founding father without a father
Got a lot farther by working a lot harder,
by being a lot smarter
By being a self-starter
I’ve said it before, I think Hamilton is sensational. It’s not just clever, it’s smart. It’s funny without sacrificing gravitas; it’s culturally present; it’s engaging and, though there is obviously some creative license taken, it’s American history on the stage.
I’ll call Lin-Manuel Miranda the genius that he is in my tone-deaf world where my own baby reacted to lullabies with a “ehhh maybe don’t sing me to sleep momma” face. Let’s just not forget all the craftsmanship that went into bringing Alexander Hamilton to life.
Hamilton was an immigrant (“…bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman…”) with vision, ambition, drive. He served as Washington’s military aide, then became our first Secretary of the Treasury, facing down detractors in Washington’s Cabinet to create a strong centralized banking system, making enemies as fast as he made friends. He fought for the US Mint, and he made the repayment of the national debt his first priority. (That’s for us money nerds.)
Thomas. That was a real nice declaration
Welcome to the present, we’re running a real nation
Would you like to join us, or stay mellow
Doin’ whatever the hell it is you do in Monticello?
If we assume the debts, the union gets
A new line of credit, a financial diuretic
How do you not get it? If we’re aggressive and competitive
The union gets a boost. You’d rather give it a sedative? – Cabinet Battle #1
For the hustlers and the grinders, those who work their butts off, not for fame or glory but to get the job DONE? Hamilton was your guy.
Alexander joins forces with James Madison and John Jay to write a series of essays defending the new United States Constitution, entitled The Federalist Papers. The plan was to write a total of twenty-five essays, the work divided evenly among the three men. In the end, they wrote eighty-five essays, in the span of six months. John Jay got sick after writing five. James Madison wrote twenty-nine. Hamilton wrote the other fifty-one!
Alexander Hamilton was far from perfect and Lin-Manuel’s portrayal is honest, highlighting his flaws alongside his gifts. Arrogant, reckless, idealistic, visionary? He was all those things.
But as much as I adore the music, the lyrics, the beats, the way my kid will stand up to clap, laugh, and dance to it, my heart is most drawn to how this all happened. There’s something magical about how unmagical this was.
Miranda, having written the Tony-winning musical In the Heights, picked up the 600+ page Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow for some light vacation reading. Some 50 pages into the book, he was incredibly excited by the notion that this would make a great musical, set to hip-hop lyrics. Miranda couldn’t believe this wasn’t already a musical! Granted, this was his day job but I think it takes a rare mind to see a musical in a several hundred page biography.
This didn’t happen in a vacuum, mind. Miranda’s been in the business, he’s been part of the comedy/improv rap troupe Freestyle Love Supreme for years, and he worked on this while he was also still working on In the Heights.
I repeat: writing Hamilton was his side hustle while performing in the Tony-winning musical that he wrote.
Lin-Manuel Miranda and persistence
Here’s that tumblr link: http://lemonyandbeatrice.tumblr.com/post/139444582196
He was hooked in 2008 and by 2009, he was testing his audience, rapping out what would become the first song of the whole musical at the White House, no less.
Compare, if you will, the differences between his early draft here, and the eventual final opening number.
The show opened at The Public Theatre in February 2015 and was such a resounding hit that the run was extended, then extended again. By July 2015, it opened in the Richard Rodgers Theatre on Broadway and it’s apparently a nearly impossible ticket to get. That’s only the start.
In 2017, they’ll be playing in Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles. There’s already a cast recording, and there’s talk of an original cast movie. (Please make it so!)
Sidebar: I REALLY want to see the original New York cast. I’ve fallen head over heels for them, between their Ham4Ham shows for the Hamilton ticket lottery, their work together as a diverse cast that feels much more like the America I know, and truly dear to my heart, their good work in the community.
Immigrants, we get the job done!
Miranda’s a veteran in the business but his excitement at the success and opportunities are heartwarming for a fellow hard-working immigrant’s kid. I don’t need to know critical acclaim to remember feeling the wonder of success.
I’m smitten and inspiration-struck when the words and the music that he wrote are brought to life by the incredible talent of men and women of the Hamilton cast.
He translated the life and times from Revolutionary War-era America in a way that echoes in everyday life and I am earwormed forever.
I hear the Hamiltons comforting their dying son, Philip, when I soothe my sick child, “I know, I know.”
I hear Angelica Schuyler when confronted with sexism still alive and well today:
“’We hold these truths to be self-evident
That all men are created equal’
And when I meet Thomas Jefferson
I’m ‘a compel him to include women in the sequel! – The Schuyler Sisters”
Dear Theodosia rips my heart out, voicing my worries, fears, and hopes for an infant LB’s future:
You will come of age with our young nation
We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you
If we lay a strong enough foundation
We’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you
And you’ll blow us all away…
Someday, someday
Yeah, you’ll blow us all away
Someday, someday – Dear Theodosia
And at the end of our days, a reminder we can only do our best to leave a legacy worthy of being remembered.
My words can hardly do it justice, but enjoy the music if you haven’t already and tell me if “Right Hand Man” and “Nonstop” doesn’t get your toes tapping and your blood moving to get out there and conquer your ambitions. Tell me if Eliza’s soaring vocals don’t make your heart sing, whether she’s falling in love, or reeling from betrayal.
If you can get tickets – more importantly, if you can get me tickets 😉 – TELL ME THAT too. In the meantime, you know where to find me! Right here, listening to the soundtrack and writing like I’m running out of time.
It goes without saying that I feel like an idiot. But I’m saying it anyway: I feel like an idiot. So let’s hope this doesn’t become a series.
In the six months since LB has dabbled in non-milk foods, ze has been liberal in hir intentional and unintentional sharing with Seamus. Not once, not even when ze has offered his own treats to him, has he ever taken anything from hir without explicit permission from me. I know this because I keep a close eye on them both. Seamus has been nothing but an angel toward his grabby, unempathetic, sometimes grubby sibling. An angel that stays nearby, but sets boundaries so that ze is slowly learning from our prompting, scolding, and swoop in for the occasional rescue that he likes to be close, he likes to be petted gently, but he does not like to be grabbed, twisted or licked. Ze still licks him. There’s nothing can be done about that. But still, I watch them. It’s irresponsible to take his patience for granted and ze is not nearly old enough to be trusted to respect his boundaries without guidance.
Naturally, that means that the one day that I take them both for a really long walk and playtime, the one time my brain checks out when we’re in sight of home, LB chucks hir snack bread over hir shoulder and Seamus snags it. He never does that. Ever. But in the split second I had to tell him NO and DROP IT, which he would have done, my brain failed us both and I didn’t. So he gulped it down and then my brain started whirring again.
$@!@%!!(@
That was raisin bread. Usually ze eats all the raisins first before gnawing at the crust but this time ze chucked half the slice, which ze hasn’t ever done, before chewing on it. Crap.
Raisins can be deadly for dogs.
Some dogs can eat grapes with reckless abandon. Some dogs can eat grapes, experience kidney failure, and die. Raisins are worse. You need as little as half a raisin for a 300 lb dog and if that dog is susceptible? It can be really bad.
Seamus is a big boy but he’s no 300 lbs and I couldn’t be certain that the bread had been de-raisined. I called the vet to be sure of the facts above and they confirmed: most possible ingested toxic things, if just a bite or less, they’d just suggest we induce vomiting (or they would) and watching overnight. Raisins are Bad News.
Of course, this happens right at LB’s naptime. Since we haven’t replaced his car yet, PiC had taken the car to work and we were carless so I couldn’t race them both to the vet, naptime or no. We’d run out of hydrogen peroxide so I couldn’t induce vomiting unless…
I strap a tired and angry LB into the stroller and raced down the street. Huffing and heaving, we rattle to the nearest store to grab the first bottle of peroxide we could find, pay for it and run back. Wishing with all my might that I were in better shape, and for that idiot catclling from his car to choke on his own spit and pass out, we mad-dash all the way back home. Intrigued by the commotion, LB’s grumbles have faded to an interested chirp, but once we pass the threshold, ze was bound and determined to be involved. Ze quick-crawls after us as Seamus is sent to the bathroom. Quickly, pop a bottle of milk into warming water, then run to the bathroom to measure out a tablespoon and pulling it into the syringe that … was too small. ARGH. Find another or…. Time was ticking, the longer I took, the more likely he would digest that raisin and his kidneys could start shutting down. They say you’ve got two hours, but you’ve really got to get that stuff out ASAP.
I risk a run to the closet to dig out the bigger syringes and SMASH. Of course. Of course LB wanted to know what I was working on and dashed the measuring cup of peroxide off the counter. I should have remembered that ze could reach it now. KIDS.
No matter, I have more. But forget that larger syringe, I’ll just refill this one. Five times. The syringe was only 3 ml, I needed 13. Drat and damn. With each syringe-full, he’s grumpier and more foamy. It helps none at all that LB’s extremely curious, first climbing up my side trying to help with the syringe, then sitting on his back legs to get a better view. His misery is such that he doesn’t even try to move away. The full tablespoon down his gullet, he tucks his head under his back paws, almost pointedly turning his back on me.
Apologetically, I scoop LB up and plop hir on the cushion with the milk, then sit next to Seamus petting him while spreading out the newspapers for the pending regurgitation. In almost no time, ze tossed the bottle aside and comes looking for us so that’s my cue to put hir in bed, all protests and wails.
Ten minutes later, nothing but yowls from LB.
This time, I find the 12 ml syringe. Another two tablespoons, down the hatch. More foam, and with it, an almost satisfying heaving that I was sure would do the trick. Being a hero, he just swallows and swallows and swallows until the urge passes. Fraggit! I text PiC that he may have to leave work early and take over at home so I could take Seamus in for a real induction.
Ten minutes later, still nothing.
One last time.
Seamus is really out of patience with me but down the hatch it goes. And I encourage him to just let it out. Just don’t fight it. And there it is! A lake of foam and food spreads on the newspapers. Never has poking through a pile of vomit been such a relief.
Amid the foam, the carrot chunks and the kibble, I found our culprit. One half raisin.
Elation wars with a sinking stomach. Another call to the vet confirms we still should have him in for treatment. PiC texts that he’s on his way and by 4:30, this saga started at 2, Seamus and I are loaded up and rolling out of the garage. I’m packing a book, a bottle of water, and a phone that’s running out of juice. Of course it is. But with plenty of deep breathing and careful navigating, we arrive safely at our destination.
Social Time! Seamus’s ears say.
No, I’m sorry, not really.
The vet confirms that if it were her pup, she wouldn’t go so far as the “gold standard” of 48 hours in hospital with IV fluids, the next step down should be plenty since it was half a raisin and we retrieved it.
He happily runs off to be poked, poked again, and dosed with activated charcoal.
His kidneys, according to the labwork, seem to be ok, and they’ll want to see him back in 3 days to confirm they are still fine. 72 hours, they say, til we’re out of the woods. $250 today, and another $75 later this week, if he’s fine. Small price to pay, I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, but from now on, wheat bread for walks!
We get home at 6 and still manage to get dinner on the table by 7, and by 8:30, I finally get to sit down at the computer to get my work done. What a day!
We’re taking the salvage car and title and selling the car for three reasons:
The buyer said that he would deal with actually getting the salvage title,
He would deal with the smog check,
And he came to us to pay for it, saving PiC the trek to the DMV and the shop (hours away)
All of the time PiC had previously spent on the car rental and the evaluation at the shop was a sunk cost up to that point, but now we can consider covered by the $200 over salvage value that the insurance will pay.
The math: the insurance agreed to pay out $5200. They deducted $800 from that value because we’re taking the car. The buyer paid us $1000. After the costs of driving and dealing with all the details were deducted (mentally), we’ll have $5400 in hand.
Meanwhile, we’re temporarily out our $500 deductible and the cost of a replacement car seat until the Other Driver’s insurance coughs up the reimbursements.
On the replacement front: PiC has found a few decent looking options for around $6000 if we’re willing to buy older (we are) and buy a fancy German make (ehhhhh….).
We’re both ambivalent about getting a car that is usually a status symbol even if it’s old and only costs $5000-6000 because we don’t like that the car logo will signal a level of wealth and luxury we don’t aspire to. Wait, that’s the luxury part. I absolutely aspire to the kind of wealth where I could afford a fleet of these, no sweat, but I also absolutely do not want anyone to know that I have it. That might be an odd reason to avoid the purchase in an area where it’s not that unusual to see Porsches and Teslas, who’s gonna give two hics and a hoot?
Still, we’ll have to ruminate on this for a while.
Would that bother you?
And friends with recent (last 5 years) carseat buying experience: What did you use when your kids outgrew the infant size seat? Our current one is rated for up to 30 lbs but if we’re going to replace it, we may as well get a different model that accommodates from 20 lbs and up.
That car accident is just the Christmas gift that keeps on giving.
They saw it coming but it was still a shock when The Driver didn’t even tap her brakes. I was looking down at LB when I sensed something terribly wrong and threw myself over LB at the same second That Driver slammed into the passenger door. What I thought I would protect LB from, being on the wrong side to cushion the blow with my mere flesh, I don’t know. Probably it was all instinct since I don’t remember thinking anything but oh $!&(#(
Stunned, everyone verbally checked on everyone else. PiC was slightly panicked asking if we were ok because he couldn’t see us in the dark. I was about to be in serious pain, but it hadn’t registered as I checked LB’s limbs all intact and safe in hir seat, at the point of impact.
Ze had been gnawing on a plastic jar of nuts, hir temporary chew toy and maraca. The impact had thrown it out of hir tiny hands. Ze pulled away from my anxious checking, straining forward against the restraints, concerned only for where those nuts had gone.
Huge, shaky sigh of relief.
All that matters is that everyone was ok, but dammit, what an amazing pain in the everything it is to have someone crush into your car!
We had a plan, dammit
There’s something about humans planning and God laughing, right? (Jerk) Because that applies here. We’d wanted a larger car to accommodate our growing family but decided that we’d make this work for another 2-3 years. I wanted to squirrel away all the cash for a possible down payment.
Now what?
Now we do insurance. Now we do rental cars, and inconveniences, and trips to the shop. We have a very car savvy friend advising us on a few things, but the upshot is that almost everything sucks.
Our car is considered a total loss. It’s still amazing that no one was injured, because That Driver pulverized nearly the whole side of the car and it’ll cost twice the book value to repair everything, maybe more. The frame was damaged, both doors are flattened, and I’m pretty sure that the bumper was half crushed. The shop estimated the work to start at $7000 and that’s before they took anything apart to see the worst of the damage.
But book value puts our poor car at a mere $5500 despite the brand spanking new tires we literally bought the day before, and the other accessories that would normally have meant something to a prospective buyer.
At least That Driver did have insurance and so, even though she’s been MIA for two weeks refusing to respond to their calls, they’ve ruled in our favor that she’s 100% at fault and they’ll pay for everything including our $500 deductible.
That helps a little but not much. Our choices, such as they are:
The car is a total loss: take the paltry payout from the insurance. Find a new car.
This sucks because PiC has been scouring Craigslist and his usual used car sales haunts and keeps coming up empty. There’s nothing out there that fits our requirements, not even close, and we’d have to spend $10,000 on a compromise.
We could take the money and just wait for a while but being a one car family means that I can’t run any errands during the week.
The car is a total loss: take the paltry payout from the insurance minus several hundred dollars, take the car to be salvaged (complete with a salvage title), pay everything we received and maybe another $2000 to repair it.
This sucks because though we’d get our car back, which suits our needs, we’d be out of pocket $2000+ for a car with a salvage title so if we were to try to sell it later, it’s not going to tempt any buyer for more than that $2000, likely. If that much.
But it does give us a working vehicle so we don’t have to scour Craigslist for the next few weeks or months.
The car is a total loss: take the paltry payout from the insurance minus several hundred dollars, take the car to be salvaged (complete with a salvage title), sell it to a shop for about $1000 which covers the salvage value the insurance deducted and gives us another $200 toward a replacement.
$200 is a lot of money when you think of just money in hand but is it worth the hassle? Either we have to trek to the DMV to get the salvage title processed, and then take it to the shop to sell the car, or get the insurance to process it which may take weeks while the shop holds the car. The shop has a $100/day storage fee that presumably would be waived but if the buyer at the shop changes his mind after 2 weeks, we’d be out $1400 instead of up $200. Personally, I’m no longer in favor of bothering with this sale – our time sunk into this fiasco is over a dozen hours at this point and it’s much more valuable than $200 to waste at least another day of work on it.
Want to guess what our final decision is?
That Driver’s moment of inattention has cost me weeks of pain, PiC dozens of hours in insurance wrangling frustration and car hunting, and cost us a great working vehicle that will cost more than several thousand dollars to replace. Awesome.
Y’all, I’ve never been so cold in my life in Southern CA. Our semi-mountain hometown is already seeing temperatures below 30 degrees F, it’s just the start of winter, and this year may be the biggest El Nino ever. As it is, for us native Southern Californians, these temps are just cause to burrow indoors and not emerge til Spring. If this gets much worse…. well.
This means post-Christmas is now about looking for warm things for Dad and somehow making sure that he uses them. The house is a mess, the landlord still hasn’t fixed some key things that ever so frustratingly affect the heating situation so while of course he wouldn’t actually tell me, I’m quite positive that Dad neither has enough warm clothing or enough warm blankets for the frigid nights. It’s horrible to harbor the suspicion that if I don’t do something about it, he cannot survive the rest of this El Nino winter.
Naturally, not doing something isn’t an option. A heavy fill down comforter is on the way, and it had better arrive this week! Now the quest is on for a really warm jacket. He’ll probably feel ridiculous in a puffer jacket but that may be the best choice to keep him from freezing and shattering into tiny Dad-bits and pieces. I’m scouring Amazon, LL Bean, and REI for a reasonably priced, minimum 700-fill, good quality coat. My store requirements, as always, are a good return policy, and fast/free shipping. Most jackets seem to run above $100 and are closer to $200. Is that normal? Probably is for a good high-quality jacket which should really last him years. It’s been more than a decade since I shopped for men’s jackets.
Maybe a few flannel or thermal shirts and pants would be useful, too? While I’m obviously willing to spend some money to make sure he’s comfortable, it’s also clearly not limitless, so I have to make the best use of the funds I have. Any frugal keeping warm solutions are welcome.
Gratitude, when frosty or toasty
While I’m searching, and click click clicking online to find the best deal for the best thing, I am ever so grateful for the ability to see a problem and having enough that I can throw some money at it. And it’s one of the many things that, though we’re not wealthy, makes me feel wealthy.
Some of the most trivial things but therein lies the privilege of having enough.
Turning on the heat when we are bundled in socks and sweaters so we don’t have to pile on a jacket inside. Also, not having to sleep bundled in our winter coats at night.
Owning books. As a child, I was starved for books. We didn’t own any, my parents encouraged reading in the abstract but our $20-30K (at best) annual household income meant I spent a lot of time reading all the books at the local library and gobbling up any books I encountered anywhere. If you had a book, I was willing to be your friend long enough to read it before I had to go home. (If there’s anything I would overcompensate on for LB to make up for my childhood, it’s this right here. I already do.)
Machine washing clothes. It wasn’t that long ago that we were visiting Gram in the countryside and handwashing and linedrying all our clothes. Robots that automatically clean AND dry your clothes? LUXURY.
An investment portfolio. 15 years ago, “savings” meant filling my piggybank, a gift for my 7th birthday, with all my paychecks that weren’t already spent on bills. Now, I can spend a fairly respectable sum each year on the gift of future income. How incredibly rad is that? (hint: OMGOSH so rad)
Really warm socks with no holes. Growing up, all my socks were hand me downs and/or the sort of cheapish variety that practically came with holes in them. About six years ago, we splurged on three pairs of these incredible Thorlos and they are practically still as good as new, even after heavy duty wearing during Comic Con and just generally keeping my feet warm.
A close second: fuzzy socks. They’re not as luxurious, they tend to run thin, but they are fun and warm.
Having enough postage, toilet paper, toothbrushes. You wouldn’t think much of any of these until you run out and there’s no money for more. Or you use your toothbrush until the bristles only go sideways because you can’t imagine throwing out a toothbrush. This is why I’ve got a package of toothbrushes and toothpaste made up for Dad, too. I’m sure he won’t spend any of his cash on them.
:: Over to you, what makes everything feel cozy and luxurious and safe for you?
Three months after LB was born, life was less than ideal. I was restless, impatient, and struggling to find my place again. And any clothes that would fit.
Then: The closet’s my usual target for a shakedown when I’m feeling antsy but it makes no sense to weed out clothes until my weight settles. The possible casualties of a post pregnancy body:
Two “new” bras that are two Christmases old. Suckers aren’t cheap! hadn’t They didn’t get into rotation before falling pregnant (as the English so elegantly put it) so I don’t get back to normal, I’m out $130 for new bras.
$100 for the tailoring of my wedding dress that has pockets and fit Old Me like a glove.
On the other hand, at least two pairs of shorts would fit me if I stay this size.
Now: I’m still shedding pounds, months later, so the closet is only undergoing organizational changes. No layoffs yet, but a few rehires.
Then: Just one among many things that are uncertain at the moment.
Now: Still true. Less a feeling of frustration and more a feeling of anticipation, though. A touch of the resting winter, preparatory to a new year?
Then: Our taxes can’t be filed by April 15. I hate having to file an extension.
Now: Still hate this but it may not be the case in Tax Year 2016!
Then: I’ll have to return to work sooner than I like and I don’t know how well that’ll work with LB’s lack of schedule.
Now: Not having answers wasn’t a disaster. Surprise!
Then: If I want to branch off into my own projects sooner rather than later, this requires a commitment to the one most likely to produce some kind of income. Don’t know what that is, yet.
Now: I still want to but until I can make a few hours to test the right thing, I’m working on the writing project.
Then: Seamus is rotund and I’m not sure if it’s diet or exercise related. It’ll take some time to sort him out.
Now: He had put on ten pounds of sympathy weight. We cut back on his food and increased his outings, and he’s back to his svelte self. Incidentally, that meant I was getting more exercise more regularly but I didn’t lose much more weight til the Great Flu of the summer and fall. Nothing like disease to manage your weight. /sarcasm
Then: LB is changing every single day. That’s a good thing but at the same time, whatever worked yesterday doesn’t work today and definitely won’t work tomorrow. Keep hopping!
Now: Yep, ze just keeps changing but the behaviors and habits are starting to become a little less wildly different day to day. Ze has now slept the whole night through to a reasonable hour in the morning TWICE in hir life!
Then: We can’t make any major money changes right now. Well, can’t and don’t need to. But I’m kinda bored with status quo – I want to be making decisions and making it happen! (probably a sign that getting back to work is a good thing.)
Now: No longer true! We kept on saving all year, I’ve made investments, we’ve traveled and correspondingly spent what we experts in personal finance might call “a crapload” of money doing so.
