I have a theory about money. I think that what we’re allocated is pretty much what we have. My theory is ridiculously over simplified, but it seems to me that you gain some here as you lose some there. As my favorite college professor once said, what you make on the popcorn you lose on the peanuts.
When I lived in an apartment, it seemed that every time I got a raise at work, my rent was raised accordingly. It was as if the payroll officials were in cahoots with the landlord. I shared this with one of my brothers, who told me I was being paranoid. Perhaps.
In 2002 I bought a car from a friend for $1,000. I bought the car because my office relocated to a suburb of Portland that doesn’t believe in public transportation, which includes, in their estimation, bike paths and sidewalks. It’s been a good car, overall. After years of calculating what to buy at the grocery store according to what would fit into a back pack, there was something liberating about loading a shopping cart up with big bottles of juice that happened to be on sale and insane amounts of toilet paper and laundry detergent.
It’s time for the car to go: for more than two years now I’ve worked from home, and my body is rebelling against the prolonged sitting. It’s the insurance, though, that’s my main motivator. I hadn’t owned a car since 1989, so I don’t know if it’s a sign of the times, or if the laws are different in Oregon, or if my tolerance has diminished, but I’ve paid for the car many times over in insurance payments, fully aware that my coverage would probably be cancelled the minute I made a claim for something as minor as being towed.
The insurance was weird from the start. When I called the agent, who works for a national company and was recommended by a friend, the first agenda item was being asked to prove that I had never driven the car prior to calling to have it insured. Of course I’d driven it, I explained. Prior to purchasing it, I took it for a test drive, and I took it to a mechanic to make sure there weren’t major problems. Who in his right mind would have a car insured before buying it? Then I wondered, how can an insurance company legally insure a car before the person being insured owns it? Adding to the absurdity, before issuing the policy she needed to inspect the car, which required me to drive it to the sidewalk-free suburb.
Two summers ago I called the insurance office and asked if I could opt for a lower level of coverage since I drove the car so rarely that I hadn’t bought gas in 11 months. Sure, I was told, they could lower the premium, although the reduction was so minimal it was laughable. But best of all, in order to get the lower rate I’d need to call the office on the days I planned to drive the car. Before the agent and I hung up, I answered one of her questions with, "Yes, Mommy." I just quit making the payments and started being even more careful when I drove, which was rare.
About a month ago I got the notice from the DMV that it was time to renew my plates. In Oregon, we don’t just pay a fee for plate renewal. In Oregon, we dutifully go to an emissions testing center, inevitably in the most far-flung location one can imagine. And even though we are very “green” here in Oregon, certain vehicles – large ones, from what I hear, not mine – are exempt from this process. If the vehicle passes the emissions test, you present your papers, pay the fee and attach new stickers, which are often stolen, to your license plates. It’s hard to take this test seriously: I failed once, so my mechanic just adjusted something under the hood, which took as much time and effort as turning a screw – once – and my car passed the emissions test beautifully.
Alas, I cannot renew my plates without presenting proof of insurance, so I’m donating the car. I’m going to start riding a bicycle regularly again, I’m going to walk more. I’m not going to pay for gas unless it’s to give someone gas money if I get a ride, and I’m not going to pay for repairs, or insurance. None of which makes any real difference, though, because Wednesday afternoon my health insurance company informed me – via a communiqué the size and weight of a telephone directory – that my monthly premiums are increasing by $52 per month starting December 1.
When I lived in an apartment, it seemed that every time I got a raise at work, my rent was raised accordingly. It was as if the payroll officials were in cahoots with the landlord. I shared this with one of my brothers, who told me I was being paranoid. Perhaps.
In 2002 I bought a car from a friend for $1,000. I bought the car because my office relocated to a suburb of Portland that doesn’t believe in public transportation, which includes, in their estimation, bike paths and sidewalks. It’s been a good car, overall. After years of calculating what to buy at the grocery store according to what would fit into a back pack, there was something liberating about loading a shopping cart up with big bottles of juice that happened to be on sale and insane amounts of toilet paper and laundry detergent.
It’s time for the car to go: for more than two years now I’ve worked from home, and my body is rebelling against the prolonged sitting. It’s the insurance, though, that’s my main motivator. I hadn’t owned a car since 1989, so I don’t know if it’s a sign of the times, or if the laws are different in Oregon, or if my tolerance has diminished, but I’ve paid for the car many times over in insurance payments, fully aware that my coverage would probably be cancelled the minute I made a claim for something as minor as being towed.
The insurance was weird from the start. When I called the agent, who works for a national company and was recommended by a friend, the first agenda item was being asked to prove that I had never driven the car prior to calling to have it insured. Of course I’d driven it, I explained. Prior to purchasing it, I took it for a test drive, and I took it to a mechanic to make sure there weren’t major problems. Who in his right mind would have a car insured before buying it? Then I wondered, how can an insurance company legally insure a car before the person being insured owns it? Adding to the absurdity, before issuing the policy she needed to inspect the car, which required me to drive it to the sidewalk-free suburb.
Two summers ago I called the insurance office and asked if I could opt for a lower level of coverage since I drove the car so rarely that I hadn’t bought gas in 11 months. Sure, I was told, they could lower the premium, although the reduction was so minimal it was laughable. But best of all, in order to get the lower rate I’d need to call the office on the days I planned to drive the car. Before the agent and I hung up, I answered one of her questions with, "Yes, Mommy." I just quit making the payments and started being even more careful when I drove, which was rare.
About a month ago I got the notice from the DMV that it was time to renew my plates. In Oregon, we don’t just pay a fee for plate renewal. In Oregon, we dutifully go to an emissions testing center, inevitably in the most far-flung location one can imagine. And even though we are very “green” here in Oregon, certain vehicles – large ones, from what I hear, not mine – are exempt from this process. If the vehicle passes the emissions test, you present your papers, pay the fee and attach new stickers, which are often stolen, to your license plates. It’s hard to take this test seriously: I failed once, so my mechanic just adjusted something under the hood, which took as much time and effort as turning a screw – once – and my car passed the emissions test beautifully.
Alas, I cannot renew my plates without presenting proof of insurance, so I’m donating the car. I’m going to start riding a bicycle regularly again, I’m going to walk more. I’m not going to pay for gas unless it’s to give someone gas money if I get a ride, and I’m not going to pay for repairs, or insurance. None of which makes any real difference, though, because Wednesday afternoon my health insurance company informed me – via a communiqué the size and weight of a telephone directory – that my monthly premiums are increasing by $52 per month starting December 1.
