Odd name for a blog, huh? Well, it's a phrase that's become all-too-familiar to me since the financial collapse of aught-eight.
It comes from the daily need for my family to do things and go places on limited resources. Trying to juggle everything -- one daughter's going to homecoming, the other's coming in on the train -- my husband and I try to figure out who's going to do what, with no money and no gas.
We can pick them up in his car, but the registration is expiring and we'll need to cough up $181 or risk a fine close to that. My car, I tell him, is "30 miles into empty," meaning, I'm not just on empty, I'm 30 miles past that. I know exactly how far into empty I am because I make sure I click the miles gauge the second the light comes on. In the past two years, it's come on a lot.
Therefore, we'll need to put at least $10 in the tank to get us where we're going. If we don't have $10, we're screwed.
I see it as a metaphor for our lives and those of all the others who have been left behind by this economy. We're on empty, but not all the way -- we have about another 20 miles to go before entering the lovely shire of Shoulderville. Occasionally we'll push that baby close to 40, listening for sputtering or slurping or other signs of trouble.
We're taking a risk, but not a heedless risk.. We'll bet on 30, but never 50. There's also a matter of trust: When I drive the car, I allllwaaaays push the trip button, but he sometimes forgets. Can I believe the number? Should I wait for him to come home to ask?
Notice, too, that we weren't about to chance a ticket with a Cuomo-esque fine in New York. I'm talking here about Mario, not his heir-apparent Andrew. Cuomo the elder perfected the art of "just-cause-we-can" screw fees.
There are upsides, too -- despite the inconvenience of living on less, we've become more creative and resourceful than we ever thought possible. I could write a book on all I've learned about frugal living, from baking artisan loaves and heating with wood to saving half off a grocery bill using coupons and sales. Even deflation has its bright spots.
But we're also exhausted, frazzled, stretched to our limits, not sure what to do next. We're just like the 15-20 percent of Americans who are either unemployed, underemployed or have given up looking for work. We're trying to see the tank as half full (if only!), but most days it feels half empty.
We're 30 miles into empty. We're not on the side of the road, or even at the end of it. But we're almost there.
Notice, too, that we weren't about to chance a ticket with a Cuomo-esque fine in New York. I'm talking here about Mario, not his heir-apparent Andrew. Cuomo the elder perfected the art of "just-cause-we-can" screw fees.
There are upsides, too -- despite the inconvenience of living on less, we've become more creative and resourceful than we ever thought possible. I could write a book on all I've learned about frugal living, from baking artisan loaves and heating with wood to saving half off a grocery bill using coupons and sales. Even deflation has its bright spots.
But we're also exhausted, frazzled, stretched to our limits, not sure what to do next. We're just like the 15-20 percent of Americans who are either unemployed, underemployed or have given up looking for work. We're trying to see the tank as half full (if only!), but most days it feels half empty.
We're 30 miles into empty. We're not on the side of the road, or even at the end of it. But we're almost there.
