I’m not a collector of antiques. I have
some, but none was acquired intentionally. They just came my way because they have
family history of some sort. They are keepsakes. I hesitate to use the word
heirloom since that word connotes (not denotes but connotes) something
valuable, and none of my keepsakes is valuable in any but a sentimental sense. If
sold, all together they probably wouldn’t cover my heating bill for this past
winter. I own some of them simply because my dad was a builder and consequently
always had a storage barn where grandparents “temporarily” deposited stuff:
kerosene heaters from the 1920s, oil lamps from the 1920s and 1930s, winemaking
equipment from the Prohibition era, and so on. (Aside: It is commonly believed
that homemade wine for home consumption was legal during Prohibition; it was
not.) Half a century later the barn and its stuff were mine. Some of the items
I cleaned up and brought into the house as conversation pieces; others remain
in the barn. Then there are things my parents themselves acquired new but have
become antique over time: my dad’s baseball bat from the 1930s, his uniforms
from WW2, paintings from the 1940s, a dining room table from the 1940s, very
of-its-time plastic wall art from the 1950s, and so on.
Just a few examples: all the items including the piano (which my mom played but I do not) are keepsakes. The oxen yoke was rustic art made by my grandfather, the oil lamps are 100 years old and the clock 200.
This comes to mind because somewhat
desultorily I’ve been attaching discreet labels to the items since I’m the only
one left who knows how old they are or from where they came. For example there
is a handheld school bell from the Cranford elementary school that was given to
my maternal grandfather in 1910 when the school bells went electric. Without
the attached note, it is just a bell. The pith helmet is more interesting if
you know it is from India in 1944. You get the idea. Anyway, the labeling has
reminded me just how many of these keepsakes there are around the house. I’m
not one for clutter in a general way (typically following my mom’s dictum, “When
in doubt, throw it out”) and don’t regard myself as particularly sentimental. If/when
the time comes to sell my property and downsize, I don’t think I’ll have a
problem leaving this stuff behind. Yet while I have room for the things with
family history I balk at selling them or tossing them. I’m not sure why. Maybe
they just remind me of people and places. I don’t have kids to saddle with these
legacy items, and if I did they might not want them. A few years ago Forbes ran an article titled “Sorry,
Nobody Wants Your Parents' Stuff” that became their most downloaded short
article. It was written by Richard Eisenberg whose 94-y.o. father had died some
months earlier. He and his sister struggled to handle their father’s personal
property; it was a problem because the market for what were once called
collectibles has collapsed in recent decades. The article notes that two
generations (Boomers and their remaining parents) are downsizing (or dying) at
the same time. By itself this would create a glut of old furniture and tchotchkes.
But demand has dropped off simultaneously. The article quotes Chris Fultz of Nova Liquidation, “Old mahogany stuff
from my great aunt’s house is basically worthless.” Eisenberg adds that “auction
houses have little appetite for your parents' stuff, either. That's because
their customers generally aren't interested.” Those customers would be Millennials
and Zoomers who (money woes aside) mostly want to be mobile without junk to lug
around. Even if the stuff is offered free and from their own families they don’t
want it. For most, “sentimental value” isn’t really a thing. Xers still provide
a modest (albeit only modest) demand, but they are a small generation and can’t
carry the whole load. So, there is a high probability that my
keepsakes one day will end up in a dumpster. That is OK. I won’t be here to
wince. But just in case anyone (perhaps a cousin or two) is interested before
they go to the landfill, the items are labeled. I’m sure the executor(s),
whoever that might be, won’t mind if they are taken away – maybe to a property with
a barn.
The equinox rapidly approaches and the
usual destinations are bracing for this year’s influx of college spring
breakers. They notoriously party heartily, because who needs a vacation more
than college students? Don’t answer that. Vacations or holidays (the terms are
interchangeable in common parlance though the former is more American and
latter more British) always have been a privilege of the rich. The well-to-do
of the ancient world through early modern times were wont to travel and
frequently to spend time at country estates away from their urban quarters. They
still do that. To the extent middle class folk (craftsmen and the like) were
able to take breaks and make excursions, it was usually for religious reasons.
The ancient Greek festivals with their associated theater and sports events
come to mind. For the most part though, farmers (the overwhelming majority of
the workforce until quite recent times) had neither the resources nor the time
to join them. One cannot just say to the farm animals, “You guys take care of
yourselves for the next couple weeks ‘cause we’re outta here.” The modern middle class secular vacation
came along in the 19th century with ongoing urbanization and
industrialization. In the US, doctors and business management theorists argued
not only that vacations were good for health but that they were good for
business. They refreshed salaried workers and improved their productivity. Even
ministers got in on the act, saying they were good for the soul: hence the slew
of (especially) Methodist resorts appearing at the end of the 19th
century such as Ocean City, NJ. Rail connections to such places as the Jersey
Shore and the Adirondacks made them readily accessible. Vacation time became a
key demand in labor union negotiations with increasing success into the 1930s.
Furthermore, they were affordable. Cheap gas and lodgings prevailed from 1920s
right through the 1970s when I took a youthful three month cross-country road trip after
college. I could not afford the same trip today despite having far more
resources in real terms if one believes official CPI figures. Although 21st
century workers do go on vacation, they spend a lot on them. The growing
popularity of the so-called staycation – just chilling out at home – is no
surprise. When I was a kid in the ‘50s/’60s my
parents were adamant about taking a summer and a winter vacation – this despite
the fact that my workaholic dad didn’t really like being on vacation and grew
visibly antsy after three days. They regarded it as integral to a middle class
lifestyle, which it was important to them to attain and maintain as it was for
so many who grew up in the Depression. I suppose they also regarded it as a
duty to my sister Sharon and me. I certainly didn’t complain. They weren’t
terribly adventurous in their destinations. We regularly went to the same
location in the Florida Keys in the winter and to the same lakefront spot in
New Hampshire in the summer year after year. (In fairness, my dad had enough
travel adventure in the Merchant Marine during the war.) It never occurred to
me to question that decision, and anyway I enjoyed the familiarity of the
places.
My mom and sister Islamorada, FL; my dad and I Gilmanton, NH – mid 1960s
Since the beginning of March I’ve been
asked five or six times by various people if I plan a vacation this spring. In
a way, this is a strange question to ask a retired person. Vacation from what?
I suppose they mean the word in the literal sense of vacating the premises. In
that case the answer is no. I don’t plan one. That doesn’t mean I won’t take
one. An advantage of being old and single is being able to be impulsive. My
wanderlust has diminished from what it was decades ago though. But maybe just
for the heck of it, I’ll one day stand on a familiar beach in the Keys or
lakeside in New Hampshire.
In generations prior to the Boomers
about 10% of the population over the age of 65 had no biological offspring. For
Boomers the portion is closer to 20%. In each subsequent generation the trend
toward childlessness has intensified. For the first time ever in the US more
than 50% of women at age 30 are childless – or “childfree” as some prefer, though
each term arguably has judgmental connotations. So, while in a minority among
Boomers, I am not rare in my dotage in having no kids. (My household actually
is more complicated than that as those who know me are aware, but that is a
separate matter.) Were I concerned about family legacy (I’m not) my 11 first
cousins with a couple exceptions have been sufficiently prolific to take care
of that. Neither my paternal nor maternal family names are at risk of
vanishing. For the most part the near-steady (with
a few minor blips) decline in fertility in the entire developed world since
1965 has been voluntary. The fertility rate (the average expected lifetime
number of offspring per woman) in the US is currently 1.6, the lowest it ever
has been. In the absence of immigration a rate of 2.1 is necessary to keep the
population from declining. Some countries – famously Japan – already are in
decline. In the US, UK, Canada, and a handful of other magnet countries,
immigration more than covers the gap, but one still hears concerns about a
shrinking upcoming pool of workers and taxpayers to fund future pension and
social welfare obligations for an aging population. One also often hears
demands to encourage a higher birthrate through such interventions as government
funded childcare and lengthy legally required paid parental leaves. These
policies may or may not have merits on their own, but, despite what their
advocates frequently say (based on dubious year to year data blips of
hundredths of a point in this nation or that), there is not good evidence they
affect fertility. Many European countries have exactly those policies, yet
there is no discernable pattern between them and fertility rates. (Sweden’s
rate, for example, is 1.6 – the same as the US.) Local cultural factors are
more important. Some countries (e.g. Finland, Denmark, Poland, Russia) simply
pay parents to have children though they too remain well below replacement
rate. Hungary has an interesting approach; the government will lend 25,000
euros to couples; if they have two children within six years they don’t have to
pay the loan back. Italy (fertility rate 1.3) is expanding a similar program. In truth, the economic cost of raising
children in developed counties is far in excess of even the most generous
social welfare program currently in existence, which partly explains why they
have such little effect. The USDA calculates that it on average takes $289,000
to raise a child to age 17. Send the kid to college and add a hundred grand. A plethora of magazine articles have fretted about these figures in recent years. Yet,
these scary numbers are not the primary reason people are forgoing parenthood. In
a recent Pew study financial concerns deterred only 17% of childless adults
under 40 from having kids. The most common reason given: “Don’t want to.”
I can relate. I didn’t want to. Perhaps
we should fuss less about all this. There are 8 billion people in the world and
(despite Elon Musk’s concerns) no immediate danger they will go extinct – from low
fertility rates anyway. Besides, it must be better for the kids to have parents who want them. If a decline in working age taxpayers someday puts a
strain on public spending, perhaps we just need to adjust our spending
priorities. (Also, a tighter job market generally means higher real wages,
which are not a bad thing.) When I was born there were 180,000,000 fewer people in the US than there are
today (332,000,000 in 2022). No one thought the country was underpopulated back
then. If the net (albeit unlikely) result of individuals making free decisions today
is eventually to return us to 1952 numbers, so be it.
It is that time of year. Next month we
must pony up taxes, so now is the moment to assemble our documentation. To some
degree it is always that time of year. Property taxes are due quarterly (in
most jurisdictions) while there is never respite from sales taxes, phone taxes,
energy taxes, etc. But income taxes are due April 15 – this year April 17,
actually, because the 15th falls on a Saturday. I use a professional
to file. This year (sorry to say) the numbers are so simple that I don’t really
need one, but there have been years when they were not simple at all. It is
best, therefore, to have a history of my records in one place, just in case
they get complicated again, so I continue to employ the same accountant. Taxes are as old as civilization.
Arguably, taxes are the primary business of civilization. Taxes always at
bottom have been a protection racket. The ancient Sumerian peasant tolerated
the predations of the local king because they were less than the predations of
lawless bandits against whom in principle the king offered protection. (If
either predation became too severe, the peasant could head for the hills to
hunt and gather instead, though that becomes an ever harder choice the more one
has to lose.) The king, of course, got wealth and power out of the deal. The
initial problem was how to calculate taxes in the absence of money. Civilization
dates to some 3000 BCE but coinage didn’t come along until the 7th
century BCE in the West – a few centuries earlier in China though little of the
early Chinese “spade currency” was gold or silver, and so was closer to being
fiat money. The solution was payments in kind (pigs, goats, bushels of wheat)
and labor (an obligation to work for the king in fields or on walls or whatever
for a given term). As economies became monetized so did
taxes. By the time of the Romans we have recognizable tax collection: property
taxes, inheritance taxes, port taxes, sales taxes, and poll taxes. Julius
Caesar added a gross income tax: complex income taxes with deductibles and
profit/loss statements were too difficult to administer at the time, so the tax
was on gross revenue; whether you made a profit or not was your problem. China
favored granting monopolies on certain goods and services while taking a piece
of the action in return. The American Revolution was famously a
tax revolt as was to a large degree the French Revolution. The irony in both
countries is not lost on current taxpayers. One sometimes hears that income
taxes were unConstitutional in the US prior to the adoption of the 16th
Amendment in 1913. This is untrue. They did, however, require a complex
apportionment among the several states based on the census. The 16th Amendment
eliminated this speed bump: “The Congress shall have the power to lay and
collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment
among the several States, and without regard to any census or enumeration.”
That is pretty open-ended.
While I have my own opinions on the use
and misuse of tax policy both for government funding and social engineering, I
won’t carry on about them here. I’ll just write what checks may be due to the
Treasury and the State of NJ. I do suspect, however, that we are closer than
one might think to fully digitized currency. (I wrote a short story based on
this called Fool's Gold.)Not long after, the feds and state will
simply deduct what taxes they want when they want. I’m sure we’ll get an
e-statement.
