Economics 101

We learned about God first and not long afterward about money. We were on two paths at once and both would be great mysteries.

Our introduction to money came from little gifts: coins given to us by doting uncles and chocolate tokens wrapped in silver and gold foil. The latter was more valuable. It was a lesson in economics because we didn't keep it very long.

When the time came we got an allowance. It started with pennies and inflated a little bit at a time once we were able to cross the street and find the candy store. Piggy-banks held our horde for a while, and when we outgrew the pride of putting coins in piggy it was replaced by an iron box with slots in the top and a keyhole in the bottom.

Once we got control of money we found ourselves torn between hording and spending. We could do both but with the risk of imbalance. At school long before we studied the mechanics of spending (Economics I) we were encouraged to bank at 1 1/2%. A Philadelphia bank, PSFS, had thousands of depositors in schools whose books were penny accounts. Our money drew interest. A smart kid could horde for immediate needs, spend on desired goodies that were in his budget and save with the PSFS and make money for himself and for the bank.

Allowance was as sure as rain. It was tightly controlled if parents weren't half-wits. When our coordination reached a sensible level we were expected to work at chores around the house, the first being keeping our own rooms tidy. That's a lot to expect from kids who are learning steadfast rules at home and how to become pigs once they develop their own social gang. The allowance might be subject to cuts: fines levied for small, but large, derelictions. Parents might be Republicans or Democrats but our restrictions were more in line with the teachings of Marx.

Our own spending habits would be limited to candy and the penny toy market. All of the other things were provided so the world of fashion was dictated by conservatives. Parents might choose ill fitting duds or whistling knickers or even Fauntleroy clothes that didn't help their children's psyche when they were on display at school. Many a bad-egg might owe his failure to trauma unrelated to what teachers were trying to do.

Catholic schools had equal shares of failure, too. They couldn't be blamed on idiotic taste in clothes because the parochial — and private schools had codes of conformity in dress. The private schools did better: twenty children in a class opposed to ninety-six in a herd ruled by teaching nuns who might spend the better part of the year trying to remember names. That's a harder task than learning the Baltimore catechism. Fail that and risk being beat to death by a nun. The nun was always at the advantage. She would be excused for forgetting your name.

All education has faults. The kids in private schools assumed from the start that, barring revolution, they would be the ruling class and so they got low marks in manners toward their lesser fellows.

It was inevitable that our money horded up in piggy-banks or iron boxes would be tempted away by our own gluttony, by useless paraphernalia that tease kids into being suckers for, and by gambling. Once a pinball machine was plugged in at the candy store or a carnival arrived or the nouveaux riches hit the boardwalk at Wildwood by the Sea, the life savings of boys would be in jeopardy. It's meant to be that way. With a little pizazz boys are lured, like Pinocchio, to good times structured to drain them dry.

The only chance to win in the balance between hording and spending that would have made me or other ex-kids rich was misread by most of us. We threw away the baseball cards that cost a penny or a nickel and entrepreneurs in a later age fabricated a new market that is worth millions.

My own failure to understand value came when the pinball machine became an obsession. I think Ed McCall adjusted the tilt regulator to lure the kids into believing they could rack-up games at will then he readjusted it in his favor. It would eat nickels and its clients would fight their frustration with yet more nickels thrown away. I had an iron box full of liberty nickels and lost all in one afternoon to the machine that wouldn't let me win.