$0$! THE $KY I$ FALLING!

by Rose Madeline Mula

My parents—and my financial adviser—warned me there'd be days like this. But back in the heady late 90s, who believed them? Not me. Even my very conservative mutual fund annuities were soaring, showing gains of 30%, 40%, and more! It seemed that my security was assured. I was going to be a rich, old lady. I'd travel the globe in style; and when I took my final journey, I'd leave behind some wealthy, happy heirs. Well, not too happy, since their joy at their financial gain would, hopefully, be tempered by their tragic loss. "Why did she have to go?" they'd wail, as they cashed their tear-stained inheritance checks. At least that's how I pictured it.

That scenario has now changed. I no longer see myself flying to Paris on a whim on the Concorde for a weekend at the Georges Cinq, followed by a deluxe excursion to Venice on the Orient Express. Even the commuter rail to Boston, just a few miles away, for pizza in the North End is beginning to look like an extravagance.

My aforementioned financial guru tries to reassure me. "You're not going to outlive your money, Rose," he promises. "Oh, God!" I reply. "Does that mean I'm going to die next week?" "If you do," he says brightly, "you obviously will have no financial problems." (This is supposed to make me feel better?) "And if you live a few more decades," he continues, "you'll still have no problems because the market is going to bounce back stronger than ever."

Yes, I'm sure it will. But, meanwhile, I'm depleting my funds because of the monthly withdrawals I have to take to supplement my meager Social Security-which threatens to become skimpier every day as various government agencies explore ways to pick the lock of that famous box. (Where are you when I need you, Al Gore?)

The one bright spot in this dismal financial climate is Osama bin Laden. Why? Because he has effectively cured my travel bug. I no longer have the slightest desire to fly to Paris, or anywhere at all. I'm even curtailing my excursions to large shopping malls, sports arenas, and theaters (all of which are excellent terrorist targets, as the media helpfully keeps pointing out to them). I can't afford to attend the Olympic games. No problem. Friends are still traveling to exotic worldwide destinations. Am I jealous? Not any more. I'm having enough trouble dealing with the Anthrax threat in my own mailbox, thank you, without also worrying about suicidal hijackers in the sky and fanatic bombers at popular tourist attractions.

I know I should follow my President's instructions to carry on as usual-to frequent the malls and spend with wild abandon, to dine out often, to support our troubled airlines and hotels by traveling extensively.And I would do all that, of course, if I could. Hey, I'm as patriotic as the next person. But I really have to tighten my belt right now, so I'm forced to stay home.

Thank God.

 

Editor's Note: Rose Mula's most recent book, The Beautiful People and Other Aggravations, is now available at your favorite bookstore, through Amazon.com and other online bookstores, and through Pelican Publishing (800-843-1724), as is her previous book, If These Are Laugh Lines, I'm Having Way Too Much Fun.

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