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Among Friends |
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| Less is less during 'nail soup days' Opened a can of tuna fish lately? Bought your favorite laundry detergent? Notice anything different about the diet soda you got at the drive-through today? If you haven't, here's the tip-off: You're paying more for less. A lot less. No matter what I buy these days, I'm feeling short-changed from just a few months ago, when I'd open a can of pork and beans and find beans pressed against the lid. Now I have to scuba dive through 1/2 cup of watery juice to locate legumes halfway down the can. By the time you pour the water off the tuna, you're left with only half a can of fish. When was the last time you found a piece of chicken visible to the naked eye in chicken noodle soup? I buy almost everything in bulk now, stashing it all over the house ("CAUTION: FALLING OBJECTS" is pasted on the shelf above the toilet), but a recent craving found me bereft of Campbell's tomato soup, still my No. 1 comfort food. I used a $5.14 gallon of gas to drive to our rural general store for the familiar 10-3/4-ounce red-and-white can -- then recoiled in horror at the $1.74 price tag. I settled for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the $7 jar of Skippy instead. If you eat, sleep, shop, work and drive in America, you know all this, or should. New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman, however, was late getting the word until he wrote last week that his upper-class Washington, D.C., suburb has announced that many of its children will have to find their own way to school because some bus routes are being eliminated to save on fuel costs. Friedman writes that "up to now, the economic crisis ... has been largely a credit crisis in the capital markets, while consumer spending has kept reasonably steady." Not in rural Missouri, or Chicago's south side, or among retirees not living behind fancy gates. My 84-year-old godmother, who still works occasionally as a restaurant hostess to help make her ends meet, called with fears that her rent will rise any day now because of escalating utility bills. A friend in Alaska, only five years from retirement, is losing her job when United Airlines closes its Anchorage station in September; she's willing to transfer anywhere to stay employed. Millions of us being squeezed ever tighter at the gas pump, mall, grocery store, movie theater and fast-food restaurant are holding off on getting new glasses, skipping dental maintenance, eating more macaroni and cheese and spending summer vacation in the backyard. Experts like Friedman who suddenly woke up and smelled the latte predict there won't be any immediate relief, and probably not much on the horizon, either, now that China, India, Russia and other consumptive giants want what we can no longer afford. This economy reminds me of what my mother used to call our "nail soup days," when my family lived on short rations, and we amused ourselves for free as Dad struggled to keep a new job that paid less than his last one and Mom struggled to make money stretch until the next payday. That year -- 1956 -- we saw one movie, "High Society," starring Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly. I don't remember eating a single meal in a restaurant. Friday nights we played cards, and Saturday nights we barbequed with the neighbors. We didn't have a dog so I kidnapped a land turtle from a nearby creek to be my pet. We spent summer vacation at Grandma's house. Thinking back, I realize how much excess I enjoy, and how much fat I can still trim from our budget, which is what I told my husband as I snatched a second cookie out of his hand, tossed it back into the jar and slammed the lid. "You're on a diet," I said. "One hotdog, one soda, one cookie. No more neighbor kid pushing the lawnmower; we'll do it ourselves. Resurrect your library card so we can rent the $1-a-week DVDs. Cancel the cell phone. Nobody calls us anyway." He thought I was kidding; I'm not. It's going to get worse before it gets better, so I've dug out Mom's recipe for nail soup: Take a large pan and fill it three-quarters full of water; toss in one rusty nail; bring to a boil, then simmer all day; at suppertime, ladle soup into empty bowl; eat slowly; occasionally, add more water and another nail to pot. Repeat as needed. |
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