This article was in the Sunday edition of the New York Times. It talks about people in their 70’s demonstrating poor financial judgment and in so doing affecting their “nest eggs.”
I arrived in Singapore all by myself and secured space in a $400.00 a night hotel. As I read the article I really could only grin. Yes I embarked on a journey that would cost me $2,000.00 before the week ends, and tonight, the night before I return to Cambodia I am still reeling with the excitement of experiencing this city.
I really believe this is probably the best, most exciting, the safest, and the cleanest city in the world. I have been to New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Paris and I really believe that Singapore wins my vote as the best city hands down.
So did I mess with my “nest egg?” I suppose it could be seen as that, but the nest egg grows again every month.
Not messing with the nest egg means the kids get more when I die, but then I think to myself, “What about me? When do I get some pay back.”
As I reflect on that article in the paper, I couldn’t help but think that my period of poor judgment came twenty five years ago when I started carting my foster kids all over the world. I remember spending $14,000.00 to take the four boys to the Bahamas and Jamaica over the Christmas holiday. I will never forget them asking me at dinner on the ship on Christmas Eve. They wanted to know what they were going to get for Christmas.
In twenty-two years of fostering children, I can count on one hand the time I ever got thanked for anything or received a birthday greeting, or even a Christmas present.
So is this poor judgment on my part to spend my kid’s inheritance?
Possibly it is, but it sure was fun. I did this all by myself and for a rare opportunity in my life I did not have anyone whining about being bored.
Before leaving town, and early Monday evening I went on my last tour. It was to China Town to eat and then travel by Trishaw to the river front where we would then have an opportunity to see the entire city lights totally. Cruising down the Singapore River, what a fantastic experience. But, my trip with the Trishaw was kind of problematic. My driver was a young man who couldn’t speak English well but I could understand that he was very unhappy with the government and his pay scale. He immediately told me that he needed good tips to survive. We agreed on a price and then he started pedaling. As you can see in the photograph and the sweat marks, that this was not an easy job for this man. I did not know how far we were traveling and I was just about to suggest that he get off the bike and let me do the pedaling. He was having an exercise induced asthma attack and I thought the guy was going to choke himself to death. Luckily the river front was right around the corner.
I had intended to shop for hearing aids while I was here. I have been so busy flying around on city tours that I ran out of time. Now I will have to continue with only minimal ability to hear the voices of women and soft spoken students. Sorry children, you’re getting $2,000.00 less when I die.
Note: Photos can be enlarged with a double click.