Family
We had a beach house. Well, it wasn't just ours we shared it with two other families and to be perfectly honest it wasn't mine it belonged to my grandparents. They bought the house about thirty or so years ago with my grandfathers sister, her husband and a third couple with whom they were friends with for a long time.
It was a modest house, large but a summer home with no insulation and exposed nail tips and weathered shingles. It faced the bay and was one of the few places on the east coast where you could watch the sun sink into the ocean. It stood proud and tall against all sorts of weathering and storms holding tight to it's foundations though very little actually held it in place. The roof leaked and the pipes were semi exposed, if you ran your hand along a wall you were apt to get a splinter, but it was ours.
As the family grew so did the house. Three couples with multiple children became six grandparents with married children and tiny little babies who would bathe in the sink and catch toads in the sand as we ran around with our diapers sagging from the water we would play in. The house in turn transformed from a modest four bedroom into an albatross with 10 bedrooms two living rooms and a rather large kitchen. Still it was simply the shell of a house, no insulation and now even more exposed pipes.
As my generation grew, the house took on meaning and life, it grew with us. One summer a pool sprouted from the ground out front another summer the decks were restored. But the house stayed the same skeleton throughout it all. Then something terrible happened.
Now greed is a tricky thing. A little bit of greed is good, it is a driving force that urges us on to get more, to work harder, to strive for that which may be slightly out of out reach. That is hunger greed, the greed of those who are still of want, who have not yet tasted the fatty side of the good life. Then there is fat greed, fat greed is that which is slowly running our country into its war mongering ground. Fat greed is possessed by those who have much and still want more. Gluttons who steal from the mouths of the hungry because they can. The elite, the rich, the cream, those are the greedy that destroyed our house, our family commune.
A single family with a net income of more then the rest of us combined, unable to share, unable to compromise. They wanted it and they wanted it yesterday. Contracts were drawn and lies were told. We were bought out, voted off the island, cast into that dark night. But worst of all we were lowballed, taxes they cried, taxes will render us poor, (now when they say poor please keep in mind that their oldest son, at a ripe old age of 25, owns a 1.5 million dollar apartment in Trump UN Plaza.) And so it was done, and that which I called home, the house that I spent every summer since conception, the house my parents (now divorced) met and fell in love in will no longer be mine, (not that it ever technically was but give me some space to wiggle around in.)
I just hope that you're happy, and I hope you know who you are if you read this. You may have your large account balances and your fancy cars. You may buy and sell the undesirables like myself, but I have worked hard for the meager amount I have received. There is no fat in my life I am driven by the greed of hunger. And perhaps one day I'll get that house back.
Two views from our old front yard
It was a modest house, large but a summer home with no insulation and exposed nail tips and weathered shingles. It faced the bay and was one of the few places on the east coast where you could watch the sun sink into the ocean. It stood proud and tall against all sorts of weathering and storms holding tight to it's foundations though very little actually held it in place. The roof leaked and the pipes were semi exposed, if you ran your hand along a wall you were apt to get a splinter, but it was ours.
As the family grew so did the house. Three couples with multiple children became six grandparents with married children and tiny little babies who would bathe in the sink and catch toads in the sand as we ran around with our diapers sagging from the water we would play in. The house in turn transformed from a modest four bedroom into an albatross with 10 bedrooms two living rooms and a rather large kitchen. Still it was simply the shell of a house, no insulation and now even more exposed pipes.
As my generation grew, the house took on meaning and life, it grew with us. One summer a pool sprouted from the ground out front another summer the decks were restored. But the house stayed the same skeleton throughout it all. Then something terrible happened.
Now greed is a tricky thing. A little bit of greed is good, it is a driving force that urges us on to get more, to work harder, to strive for that which may be slightly out of out reach. That is hunger greed, the greed of those who are still of want, who have not yet tasted the fatty side of the good life. Then there is fat greed, fat greed is that which is slowly running our country into its war mongering ground. Fat greed is possessed by those who have much and still want more. Gluttons who steal from the mouths of the hungry because they can. The elite, the rich, the cream, those are the greedy that destroyed our house, our family commune.
A single family with a net income of more then the rest of us combined, unable to share, unable to compromise. They wanted it and they wanted it yesterday. Contracts were drawn and lies were told. We were bought out, voted off the island, cast into that dark night. But worst of all we were lowballed, taxes they cried, taxes will render us poor, (now when they say poor please keep in mind that their oldest son, at a ripe old age of 25, owns a 1.5 million dollar apartment in Trump UN Plaza.) And so it was done, and that which I called home, the house that I spent every summer since conception, the house my parents (now divorced) met and fell in love in will no longer be mine, (not that it ever technically was but give me some space to wiggle around in.)
I just hope that you're happy, and I hope you know who you are if you read this. You may have your large account balances and your fancy cars. You may buy and sell the undesirables like myself, but I have worked hard for the meager amount I have received. There is no fat in my life I am driven by the greed of hunger. And perhaps one day I'll get that house back.
Two views from our old front yard
posted by selling my soul at 10:40 AM
2 Comments:
Yeah, you might get it back.. but after they inflate the price. That sucks. Bastards. I know people.. want me to send 'em over for a 'talk'?
Of course darling, we'll both go down there for a 'talk'.
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