supplemental to the national base income.) Base income ensured there would be no poverty, and any additional earnings allowed individuals to live up to their desired standard of living. Social Security, employer-subsidized retirement, and personal health insurance plans were eliminated so the funds could be reallocated toward the base income benefit—which included completely socialized healthcare as well. All individuals from ages 16 through 75 became employees of the government and were provided with an income at a defined level—stipulated by their age and number of unemployable dependents.
While she considered these logistics, her mom’s supportive voice made its way into her mind, “It is one thing to be cautious for a rainy day, but another to be a pointless penny pincher.
“You should live for the now, ‘cause when it’s time, you’re not going to take anything material with you, least of all money. None of us know what heaven is really like, but I guarantee, even if there were such a thing as pockets, they’ll be empty or filled with spiritual mist instead.”
Charley and Michael weren’t exactly frugal or self-denying, however they voted with their dollar—always choosing quality over quantity. Hopefully it wasn’t too late to cast a grander vote for herself. Perhaps they could sell the house, travel for a year, and find a new place. No, Michael wouldn’t want to leave his job. I couldn’t ask him to do this. Maybe he’d be open to taking a long sabbatical or they could live abroad during summers if he could avoid teaching those terms. This seemed logical, but she’d have to think about what she would do for income if she quit her current job. Opportunities might open up, if she took the plunge.
With these possibilities, she picked up the phone and dialed. “Hi. Are you coming home soon?” She rarely called Michael at the office; he was usually back and forth from lectures and meeting so much he was hard to get ahold of. Somehow, she caught him in those in-between minutes this time. “No, no emergency. I was just thinking about something and wanted to get your opinion.”
・ ・ ・
Charley was the house secretary, just as in an office. She managed the paperwork, took meeting notes, and plied for signatures. She found this tedious, but Michael was much more of a conceptual thinker and didn’t bother himself with details.
Once, thinking that it would be best for him at least to be aware should anything happen to her, she asked him to manage their lives for one month. He overpaid one bill, missed payment on another, Fergus’s meds were skipped, and he’d removed a bathroom faucet without having a replacement on hand. To give credit where it’s due however, he was the house custodian. He made all the home repairs, maintained the car, prepared most of their dinners and last, but not least, he wore Fergus out so she could work without incidence of “zoomies”—essentially the phase where Fergus ran around like a mad-thing, running into walls and furniture trying to self-release involuntarily stored energy.
She didn’t mind too much, they had a reliable pattern and Michael was an all-around lovely man. She knew she was lucky and she wanted to do things for him, for them. At the very least, she often thought it was nice not to have to worry about being old and alone. They would always take care of each other; it wasn’t something they ever needed to confirm. She sympathized with her thirty-something colleagues who were single; Inez and Becks were single too.
According to the people she’d spoken with, eligible mates existed and they had no problems having fun for a while, but reaching a point of commitment was more difficult nowadays. When she’d asked why, no one could pinpoint the exact reason. It just was. She suspected technology had much to do with it—not going as far back as the inception of the internet for public use in 1991—but things definitely got weird when the
While she considered these logistics, her mom’s supportive voice made its way into her mind, “It is one thing to be cautious for a rainy day, but another to be a pointless penny pincher.
“You should live for the now, ‘cause when it’s time, you’re not going to take anything material with you, least of all money. None of us know what heaven is really like, but I guarantee, even if there were such a thing as pockets, they’ll be empty or filled with spiritual mist instead.”
Charley and Michael weren’t exactly frugal or self-denying, however they voted with their dollar—always choosing quality over quantity. Hopefully it wasn’t too late to cast a grander vote for herself. Perhaps they could sell the house, travel for a year, and find a new place. No, Michael wouldn’t want to leave his job. I couldn’t ask him to do this. Maybe he’d be open to taking a long sabbatical or they could live abroad during summers if he could avoid teaching those terms. This seemed logical, but she’d have to think about what she would do for income if she quit her current job. Opportunities might open up, if she took the plunge.
With these possibilities, she picked up the phone and dialed. “Hi. Are you coming home soon?” She rarely called Michael at the office; he was usually back and forth from lectures and meeting so much he was hard to get ahold of. Somehow, she caught him in those in-between minutes this time. “No, no emergency. I was just thinking about something and wanted to get your opinion.”
・ ・ ・
Charley was the house secretary, just as in an office. She managed the paperwork, took meeting notes, and plied for signatures. She found this tedious, but Michael was much more of a conceptual thinker and didn’t bother himself with details.
Once, thinking that it would be best for him at least to be aware should anything happen to her, she asked him to manage their lives for one month. He overpaid one bill, missed payment on another, Fergus’s meds were skipped, and he’d removed a bathroom faucet without having a replacement on hand. To give credit where it’s due however, he was the house custodian. He made all the home repairs, maintained the car, prepared most of their dinners and last, but not least, he wore Fergus out so she could work without incidence of “zoomies”—essentially the phase where Fergus ran around like a mad-thing, running into walls and furniture trying to self-release involuntarily stored energy.
She didn’t mind too much, they had a reliable pattern and Michael was an all-around lovely man. She knew she was lucky and she wanted to do things for him, for them. At the very least, she often thought it was nice not to have to worry about being old and alone. They would always take care of each other; it wasn’t something they ever needed to confirm. She sympathized with her thirty-something colleagues who were single; Inez and Becks were single too.
According to the people she’d spoken with, eligible mates existed and they had no problems having fun for a while, but reaching a point of commitment was more difficult nowadays. When she’d asked why, no one could pinpoint the exact reason. It just was. She suspected technology had much to do with it—not going as far back as the inception of the internet for public use in 1991—but things definitely got weird when the
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