Times Done Changed

When we got married and moved out to LaLaLand, I got my first full-time job, working at an aluminum jobber that fed the airplane construction industry in SoCal. We sold extrusions, plate, rod, bar, like that.

Each day, I got up, put on a white shirt and tie and dress trousers and leather shoes and like that and toodled off to work, starting in the follow-up department; that would known as customer service these days. My job was to check on orders, call or wire customers who were wondering when stuff would ship or why they hadn't gotten it yet, like that.

The money was not great, it being an entry-level position, but I got a raise after six months, another six months later, and it was sufficient to keep us clothed, fed, and with a roof over our heads. We were not living high on the hog, but we weren't in abject poverty.

That was forty-six years ago, and inflation has, um ... risen considerably. I won't go on about how much a gallon of gas or a loaf of bread or a movie ticket used to cost compared to now; I will, however get to the point of this piece:

Got our tax packet back from our accountant. With what we already pre-paid in quarterlies, and what we have to pony up for Uncle's cut for last year? Our tax bill is more than four times as much as I earned when we went to live in L.A. And that's with all the legal deductions that come with running two small businesses ...

Not complaining here; just pointing out a nickel doesn't go as far as it used to go ...