Fly the Friendly Skies My Ass

There has been serious talk in our household of moving to Texas, most likely Houston. Here is my 20-second word association with Texas. Go:
Bush
Christian fanatics
Tornadoes
BBQ
Blinding humidity
Raging lunatic Republicans
Bush
Inadequate educations
Big Hair
Waco
NRA
Bible belt
Dallas Cowboys
Obesity (minus the above's cheerleaders)
Hurricanes

Aaaaaaaaand time.

Now, before you say, "but Lindsay, you've never been to Texas," I'm going to say this: I've never been to the Gaza Strip, but I don't fancy living there either.

This is not the time to dive into politics or religion, no, no. I don't want people to think I'm misunderestimating their intelligence by using any loquaciously sneaky strategery. I will take higher ground, literally, because I heard somewhere that if you can't say something nice, talk about the weather.

Shoot, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, let's save some ink. I will leave you with Bush quotes, talking in, or about, Texas. The first picture is of the 342 category 3-5 tornadoes in Texas from 1950-2008, the second is of the hurricanes that have hit Texas from 1886-1996 (ergo, not including the last 14 years):

"There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again." —Nashville, Tenn., Sept. 17, 2002

"There's no question about it. Wall Street got drunk -- that's one of the reasons I asked you to turn off the TV cameras -- it got drunk and now it's got a hangover. The question is how long will it sober up and not try to do all these fancy financial instruments." — Speaking at a private fundraiser and surreptitiously recorded by a reporter with the footage subsequently leaked on various news outlets, Houston, Texas, July 18, 2008[19]

P.S. I would very nearly move there anyway just to grow morbidly obese on BBQ.

Little Einstein

What is illiterate, wears Elmo undies and costs nearly as much to send to pre-school for a year as it would a 19-year-old valedictorian with a penchant for quantum physics to an Ivy League university? That would be my three-in-September-year old.

Let's just look at the facts (if not the math, which has never been my strength -- read it people: B.A. in Spanish).

Princeton, Yale, Stanford: $35,000-$38,000 annual tuition
The University of Oregon: $7,500 annual tuition

Jersey City Montessori Toddler program: $18,800 base annual tuition
Extended day (7:30am-6pm): add $4,200
Application fee: $75
Non-refundable tuition deposit: $1,500
Materials fee: $300
Insurance fee: 1.76% of base tuition (in our case, $3,300)
One-time, new-family fee: $1,000
Grand total: $29,175.

Here I would like to add that according to Montessori, the optimum number of kids per class is 36.

Check my math, please. Because no matter how I add that up, I can't figure out how it costs as much to send my 3-year-old boy (who gets excited by the color blue, and finding and eating yesterday's Cheerio under the couch) to school for one year as it cost me to get an undergraduate degree.

Don't get me wrong, there is a lot of hand-holding and nose-wiping at college. I read a great Time Magazine article about "helicopter parents," the ones who hover over their pre-adult children -- even sleeping on dorm-room floors! -- instead of kicking them out of a still-rolling car near the admissions building. But still!

There's so much that bothers me about paying $30,000 per year for Montessori. Not least of which is that my mom owned and operated Montessori schools for years in the '70s and '80s and never saw this kind of money. NEVER.

What I've not mentioned yet is the school above has something like 45 days of vacation, so working parents have to find a nanny or camp to cover those days. I'm going to attempt more math. The going rate for a nanny is $15/hr, assuming an 8-hour day, times 45 days: $5,400. On top of $29K plus.

In other words, were I willing to work purely to put the kid in school, I'd have to earn something like $50,000 just to break even. That's not one dollar of take-home salary. Not one pair on new shoes for mama. Now, I may be some country hick from Podunk, Oregon, but where's the logic in that? Why would I kill myself at a job I probably wouldn't like to come home with nothing at the end of the day -- other than my beautiful child being raised by someone else?

Surely you noticed you have to pay your own kid's insurance costs (wha?), but did you notice the $300 in materials, ie. Crayons, construction paper, and Elmer's glue?

What in the name of tarnation does $23,000 in tuition cover if not a little glitter? I ask you.

Einstein went to Princeton, but did he go to Montessori? I doubt it. However, maybe I don't have to be concerned about selling my organs to put Cam in school as it appears he was channeling genius from a few weeks old:


Then again, Cam may go a different route all together:

The Shining

Our building, The Beacon, is an art-deco hospital built in the 1930s. At one time it was the largest hospital in the U.S. and is in the same league as the Empire State building architecturally speaking. The hospital closed in 2004, but seven of the ten buildings look like they were abandoned not long after they were built -- as at present, they are barely standing, derelict in nature and burned out in general.

Two buildings have been beautifully restored and turned into apartments, and one building is wired and eagerly awaiting buyers interested in entire-floor apartments that they can build to suit for a few million dollars and $2K/mo or more in maintenance fees. Owners have been promised work on the other buildings will begin promptly -- as soon as the economy is a good little economy and remembers to take its uppers. Plans are set for restaurants, members' only bar, shopping, play areas...all they have to do is displace hundreds of people living in the projects next door; tear down the buildings that have housed some of Jersey City's worst drug offenders, and that have seen more shootings than you can shake a stolen gun at; pave and rebuild.

May I suggest a cleverly placed Starbucks or Crate&Barrel? They could call the newly reclaimed real estate Gentrifica. Yuppie Plaza. Perhaps create the mental image of our own nation within Jersey City: Nolongerafraidtoleavethebeaconcompoundonfoot-ia?

As it is, a lot of work and a lot of money is needed before this area's rep recovers from its terminally ill prognosis.

All the historical stuff aside, the first two times we viewed this place, all I could think of was The Shining. Apart from the guys at the front door and desk, we didn't see a single, solitary soul. Totally quiet, other than my flip-flops flip-flopping. I found out later they shot a Verizon TV commercial here spoofing the movie but raving about their coverage, which is pretty funny since I have Verizon and I get next to zero reception in the building.

Cam has learned to pedal his bike and I have found great joy in freaking out people in the halls ever since.