I've been doing some thinking lately, and doing the math. One theory, that my older sister has, is that a friend of my father's, a John Bethune, somehow "took all his money". I don't know how that could have possibly happen and never heard even the slightest allusion to it from Dad.
No, what ruined the family finances and threw the four youngest of us into deep poverty was my father's insistence on sending my older sister to Punahou School, the tuition to which cost about the same as if he's bought a couple of Datsun 240Z's a year.
As it was, he did buy one Datsun 240Z, and man we had fun with that car. We'd jam 5 of us in there, and my father counted quite a few dips in Pupukea Homestead Road, the dippiest being "Dip Number 9" which we were sure to hit just right.
That damn Punahou tuition cost at least as much as the house mortgage and probably more, and Dad got his wish. My older sis, who I ought to refer to as Hyacinth (anyone who's watched the British TV show "Keeping Up Appearances" will get the reference) went on to marry someone else who went to Punahou, and settled in to be a fat hausfrau who feeds feral cats. She was given absolutely everything, had a governess when she was little, went to the national spelling bee finals expenses be damned, and out of this, society has benefited by there being one more fat hausfrau who feeds feral cats. She was going to be a Great Writer and hasn't written a damned thing.
Eric Blair ("George Orwell") knew he was going to be a writer also, the difference is, he actually wrote.
I have no quarrel with Punahou School, as I'm convinced far more nice people come out of it than examples like Hyacinth. The carnival was always great fun, and I had tons of fun with the microscope I got at the "White Elephant" sale one year.
What a stupid way to do things, though. We lost a very nice house on Portlock Road, where we knew tons of neighbors and were in the one good public school district on Oahu. We could have had one hell of a garden in the very large backyard, too, and I wish I'd known how to set one up, but I was just a kid.
And example of how to do things right is, when I lived in Colorado, I rented a room from a Mrs. Sorensen, a widow whose husband had been an officer in the Air Force, and who had been a nurse. When I was sick I even passed the time by reading her old pre-antibiotics textbooks. Grim! But anyway she rented out rooms, and downstairs had one large room with a bunch of beds, so her sons could always come by and stay. They were all engineers or something. She and her husband had made sure they got good starts in life and even as adults they'd never be turned away.
Ken's family, Polish Catholics, are the same way. None of 'em would leave any other of 'em in the lurch. So white people *can* do things right.
I rant about this because I grew up in a Universe where most places would not hire me because of being white. And there's no rescue over the horizon, you're on your own. The best thing is to have some skill you can take anywhere. I was scared to try waiting tables because I was afraid I'd spill someone's food or screw up somehow, didn't have the money for barber college, and thought high tech was the way to go.
High tech being the way to go has been partially true. Knowing how to buy and sell things is a very good skill, and knowing high tech things is good because there are tons of people out there who know antiques or books but few who know about high tech gadgets.
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