What my parents taught me about money, #1
Editor's note: What did your parents or older relatives teach you about saving, spending, and money management? Those who lived through or after the Great Depression and the lean WWII years had experiences that may resonate in 2009. In the coming days, members of the Consumer Reports Money staff will be sharing family lessons about money, both positive and negative. You're welcome to share your experiences, as well. Here, the first in the series:
My father, Henry Blyskal, who was born in 1925, before the Great Depression, and died in 1998, shortly before the dot-com bubble burst, taught me that hard work pays, and long hours pay even more.
He set the example by taking pride in being the family "breadwinner" and always saying "yes" to overtime at the New Jersey factory where he worked his entire life as a pipefitter, then foreman. He also earned extra money doing outside work around town as a carpenter.
Payday was a great ritual. Every Friday, my father stood at the kitchen table like a blackjack dealer, and laid down crisp $20 bills, one-by-one, with each successive note slightly angled and fanning out to the right. Many times he would announce, "I made more in overtime than in regular pay this week."
He set the example by taking pride in being the family "breadwinner" and always saying "yes" to overtime at the New Jersey factory where he worked his entire life as a pipefitter, then foreman. He also earned extra money doing outside work around town as a carpenter.
Payday was a great ritual. Every Friday, my father stood at the kitchen table like a blackjack dealer, and laid down crisp $20 bills, one-by-one, with each successive note slightly angled and fanning out to the right. Many times he would announce, "I made more in overtime than in regular pay this week."
On the last payday of the year, the Chief, as his co-workers called him after he made foreman, reported his annual earnings tally on his pay stub. This was followed by an exercise of his bragging rights, slyly couched as a complaint: "Do you know how much I paid in taxes this year?"
Each payday, my brother, sister, and I also got paid the allowances we'd earned from doing our weekly chores. Finally, there was a game of chance: The sibling who came closest to guessing how much change my father had in his pocket got to keep that largesse.
On the spending side, my dad stretched his dollars with relentlessly price haggling and do-it-yourself building, maintaining, and remodeling of his castle. "Ninety percent of the cost of building is labor," he used to say.
My siblings and I were part of the Chief's work crew, of course, but we got paid a more-than-fair wage for our labor, cash on the barrelhead immediately after the job was done. That was tangible proof, to my young mind, of the wisdom of my father's work ethic and good example.–Jeff Blyskal, senior editor
Each payday, my brother, sister, and I also got paid the allowances we'd earned from doing our weekly chores. Finally, there was a game of chance: The sibling who came closest to guessing how much change my father had in his pocket got to keep that largesse.
On the spending side, my dad stretched his dollars with relentlessly price haggling and do-it-yourself building, maintaining, and remodeling of his castle. "Ninety percent of the cost of building is labor," he used to say.
My siblings and I were part of the Chief's work crew, of course, but we got paid a more-than-fair wage for our labor, cash on the barrelhead immediately after the job was done. That was tangible proof, to my young mind, of the wisdom of my father's work ethic and good example.–Jeff Blyskal, senior editor
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