Life Lessons by My Pawpaw

The Down Payment

    "If it wasn't for that down payment", I remember my dad saying to my uncle when I was just a lad. Thinking he had just said a dirty word (mistaking the word 'down' for 'damn), it was for many years I just figured it was such a horrible thing, that when it was mentioned, that was one time you were at liberty to curse and swear. (For, my dad was by no means a cursing man.). And even though now, I know the word "down" is not the 'd' word, I am still tempted to swear at it myself, for it seems to have become the curse of my life. It has cursed me. Why shouldn't I curse it?

That down payment: that initial little impossible chunk of change they always want up front, that 3 to $6000 you must have that you can never seem to come up with, is the only thing that keeps you from enjoying your horn of plenty and entering in upon the land of promise. Without it, your locked up for life into a dismal jungle of old heap cars and mobile home trailer parks, but with it the whole world opens up into a fantasy land of houses and lands and cars and anything else you're willing to make payments on.

    Oh, there's the "low down payment plan"x and other such gimmicks (you've tried them all, you know), but what you need is the "no down payment plan" which is only a fantasy in a world of stark cruel reality. It seems, as you look around, everybody but you seems to have been able to have squirted this "down" thing somehow. Either they inherited it, or thir father, mother, bother or somebody gave them that first "pass go" ticket. Ah, that ticket! Once inside the gate, you're in. You can then sign for the blessings.

    People defiantly sat "I'll have you know, we worked hard for what we got". But further investigation reveals that way back there at the start, somewhere they were given that first boost by someone else. And many and curious are the way to get in, but no, you just can't seem to figure it out.

    The years come and go and you're still renting a mobile home for $400 a month, vowing to get out, but you can't, you know. The kid just out of school around the corner, (I think his name was Rodney), just bought a little house on a 2-acre lot, driving a bronco 4-wheel drive, with a boat in the backyard, with just the "cutest" little yard you've ever seen, but your you've been a skilled craftsman for 20 years, but you just can't seem to get out of that house with wheels.

    The American dream is there, I'm sure. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, but it is very subtly and securely hidden and tucked away behind the "down payment". And somehow they figured out a way to enter that land of promise. Oh well, until I figure it out, I guess I'll just keep puttering around in my "paid for" 1980 diesel Volkswagen, wondering how in the world these other people do it. Yes, I find myself saying to my son, "yeah son, it if it just wasn't for that da-m, I mean down payment".

         Ps: by the way, he (my son) is now driving a sporty MR-2 Toyota he just bought with money he won at the lottery drawingZ even he figured out a way.