All In/This Just In

Last night, I wasted a little time playing online poker. I think I made (fake) money although for much of the evening, it looked like I'd end the night at a loss. Of course, when I win, I wish it wasn't just imaginary, electronic chips. I wish I could cash those chips in somewhere and pay off a debt or two. And sometimes, I feel the slightest temptation to risk real money and see if I couldn't turn a small sum into a large one. And sometimes, I find myself fantasizing about that possibility: no more car payments, no more house payments, no more wondering when or from where the next check will come. After all, the key to winning at poker is remarkably simple: minimize your losses when you're going to lose and maximize your profits when you're going to win. The art is in knowing the difference--or rather, in approximating that knowledge as closely as possible.

Unfortunately, if it were real money, the players sitting across from me (or an icon of myself) would play better. They wouldn't bluff out of position just for the hell of it. They wouldn't go all in because they think I might be bluffing. They would know the math inside and out, and they would know the intricacies of this seemingly simple game more deeply and more thoroughly than I do.

But why mention poker here? In a blog ostensibly about the state of the economy? Ostensibly about my family? Even though poker does have gross potential for an allegorical comparison to the way in which our nation's economy is run (I'll let you point out the hustlers, the marks, the sharks, the fish), I play simply for the absorption it offers, the illusion of accomplishment, and the chance not to think about my life for a little while.

Last night, however, a woman somewhere in California, playing at the same (virtual) table announced (through the chat feature) that she'd just been laid off form her job of twenty-odd years. Luckily, her husband remains employed as a firefighter (for now). I watched as friends comforted her, and one other woman launched into a tirade aimed squarely at blood-sucking credit card companies. I didn't know either of those women--or anyone at the table for that matter. So, what was I to say?

Nice hand. It could be worse (trust me).

Eventually, both women migrated to a table with higher stakes, while I stayed behind, tossing good (fake) money after bad, wondering what to do next. Contemplating how to tell you about this stranger who joined the statistics yesterday, how to explain to you what "I" means here, what "we" and "our" entail.

The statistics keep coming. Less bad sounds pretty good. Or not.

So, the cards are down. What next? You think you'll win? You think you'll lose? Maybe break even? Are you sure?

Some of us are just waiting for the right cards, waiting for a chance to play.

What's the Over Under?

Just this week, my wife paid bills...just as we've done regularly--very,very seldom missing a payment--since the day our finances joined forces in that thing called marriage.

But this week is different. This week, we're looking into the future, and the future is indeterminate. We both imagine one call, or another, coming like a miracle. We both imagine the alternative, where we clean out our house and relocate our mounds of belongings into a much smaller home or apartment that's hopefully big enough to keep all three of our beloved (and tiny) dogs.

We're both college graduates. Mid-career professionals. Vaguely talented. Upstanding citizens who didn't make poor choices on our mortgage, our car, etc. We didn't buy a house we couldn't afford. We both, recently, had very good jobs (though my wife's was significantly better in terms of compensation). Yet, now our savings has dwindled. Now, we have a month of hope.

Doubtless, we're not alone. We've survived this long without contemplating bankruptcy or foreclosure--while others haven't.

Maybe you've heard countless stories like this already. Maybe you haven't. My goal here is to tell you our story without succumbing to the aura of taboo that surrounds discussions of one's own money, and to make it beautiful.

Maybe this blog will take you somewhere. Maybe it will take me somewhere. Maybe I can earn enough here for an occasional meal at McDonald's. Because, suddenly, such small comforts--brutal as they may be on our bodies--sing to me like siren song. A small fry. A soda. Forbidden fruit.

Maybe this blog, like much of our lives, is just an errant get rich (ahem...solvent) quick scheme. I'll let you decide.

Share.