American Express

It's not everyday that I rave about a credit card company. Matter of fact, I hate that credit cards make it so easy for people to spend money they don't have. Their ads make it seem as though we should all be striving to live the lifestyle portrayed in them; and unfortunately, too many of us grow up with this strange feeling of entitlement to things we can't afford.

I remember being baffled by parents who come to parent/teacher conferences telling me why they have not been able to work with Johnny at home. We've been unemployed for months, and we're struggling to make ends meet, and just don't have the time or the wherewithal to help Johnny with his school work. This is all the while Johnny comes to school wearing a brand new outfit every day of the week.

I also remember going to the Projects in Brooklyn to tutor struggling kids. Projects, for those of you unfamiliar with the concept, are public housing provided by the government to help families who are impoverished- basically, subsidized housing for the poor. I was always amazed at all the toys they had. I'm talking big screen TV, state of the art stereo system, all the new video games, and over the top, sort of in- your-face, flashy items displayed all around the house.

It's easy to say it's not the credit card, but rather, the people who misuse it. But when you are inundated with images all of your life which promote happiness via spending and acquiring, can you blame any one of us for wanting & purchasing things we can't afford? I mean, I remember credit card companies hounding me to give me cards I should have never gotten. They enticed me with miles for flights...what a great idea! The more I buy, the more miles I get, and closer to that European trip I've always wanted to take. What a concept! They're brilliant! And off I went to Europe at age twenty-one. What, you've never been to Europe? But everyone goes right after college, don't they???

Yeah, I learned my lesson early in my adult life. When my teacher's salary could barely make the minimum payment on my credit card bills and I saw the balance skyrocketing with the crazy interest rates, I knew I was in trouble. It wasn't just me, though. My friends were all going through it, but that didn't help me sleep any better at nights. Finally as I was drowning in debt, I did the unthinkable and asked my parents to bail me out. It was humiliating, embarrassing, and I felt like a loser. I blamed the damn government for not paying teachers enough, but subsequently realized it was my own fault for living the lifestyle of the MTV's Real World cast.

So why am I promoting a credit card company today? Because I just got off the phone with a nice lady at American Express who gave me a credit of $23.89 plus tax for the case of Coronas that fell out of my trunk & shattered all over my driveway. They call it the Buyer's Protection Plan: Eligible purchases made entirely with the Card are protected against theft or accidental damage for 90 days from the date of purchase-at no additional charge. Coverage is good for up to $1,000 per occurrence and $50,000 per Cardmember account per year.

Consumables, like beer, isn't covered, but the lady was sympathetic about the beer situation & happily gave me the credit. If I could've, I would've gone through the phone line to give her a kiss! (I was on my land line.) I said, "I love you! I love American Express! You guys are awesome!" and she laughed. I know... I'm sure American Express has done some sh*tty things like Wal-Mart; but today, they're far down on my sh*t list of big bad corporations. Plus, the great thing about AMEX is that you have to pay off your balance each month so you know not to spend more than you can afford. Hmmm... I wonder if they'd give me some money for promoting them on my blog. I should give them a call...

The Renaissance Woman

Someone called me a "Renaissance Woman" last week. I laughed because in the Renaissance times a Renaissance Woman was supposed to marry well, be loyal to her husband and give birth to boys. She obviously doesn't know me very well & forgets I'm not from Utah.

I think what she meant to say was that I was a Renaissance Man, who unlike the woman, had to be well-educated, or excel in a wide variety of subjects. (It's a prerequisite for being a first grade teacher these days.) I guess in old Italy (around the 1400's) some dude named Leon Battista Alberti said a man can do all things if he will. It basically considered man the center of the universe, limitless in his capacities for development, and led to the notion that men should try to embrace all knowledge and develop their own capacities as fully as possible.

Well, I call it dabbling; or if I had a therapist, he'd probably call it a scheme, an ego driven attention getter, a means to get noticed, especially by my mom who favored or should I say favors my brother. (Yes, sibling rivalry & jealousy, still at this age...pathetic, I know.)

But seriously, I tend to dabble...quite well according to my fans. Unfortunately though, I quite often get bored with it because I obsess over it. I met a guy who climbs, so I bought my gear & climbed walls for a year. I had a photographer friend, so I got a range-finder and took pictures for months. I knew a great artist in San Francisco, so I started painting & making art for a year or two. I met poets in New York, so I wrote poems and recited them in public. (The list goes on...) Most recently, about a year ago, I met a friend who plays music & writes songs, so I bought a guitar & started making up songs. I've subsequently surrounded myself with musicians and even created a Myspace page so I could have my music up in cyberspace.

Well, just last week, I met a blogger...my first ever. I was intrigued, read his stuff (quite good, and really funny), and found that I had met two other bloggers all within a week. Interesting, I thought... Then I remembered what that French-Jewish clairvoyant said to me before I left NYC. "You're with the wrong man. He's a child. You'll not meet your soul mate until you start writing." This, of course, was a deduction on her part after she looked at my hands. She probably thought I like to write after she noticed the bump on my middle finger from never having learned to hold a pencil correctly. (I press way too hard & have a fat callous that never goes away even though the only writing I do these days is sign my name on the credit card receipts. Hmm, that could explain the 115,000 miles on my Delta card.)

So, since it's been over a year since I dumped the "man child" & have yet to meet anyone, perhaps it's time I start writing. So here I go...the modern Renaissance Woman, dabbling again so I can become the Renaissance Woman of the Renaissance times.