Money

The trip was one of the few times in my life where I had an allowance. Ordinarily the concept of getting a regular allowance never worked with my family, mostly because we lived our lives on a "as needed" basis, and the habit of saving up for something meant last minute begging, borrowing, stealing, scrounging the sofa cushions, etc for extra cash to buy something I wanted, or more often I would just pester my parents until they got me what I wanted, or I waited until Christmas. There were a few occasions where Dad implemented an allowance system, but it always turned out to be convoluted and never held up to the realities of discipline and consistency required for financial management. Dad would often start the allowance out at a ridiculous 22 cents a week, having us endure the pittance until he felt we were ready for a full 25 cents a week, essentially forcing a lesson on inflation on us. I don't know why but this system never encouraged an attitude of saving. I could tell Mom was totally irritated by Dad's allowance system and she reacted with discouragement and quiet anger, which didn't help my attitude either. So the whole allowance thing never worked with our family - except on the trips.

Money on our trips was not only a reality, but a rare occasion for Dad to be somewhat generous, at least to a certain point. The trips were still done on the cheap, but there were certain luxuries and treats we enjoyed on the trips that we didn't ordinarily get, and Dad used this as an opportunity to show off his financial might, and to dole out an allowance to us that for the most part worked pretty well. Even Mom has an official allowance, which she probably found to be humiliating but she endured patiently.

The saving of money started the moment we got home from the trips; whatever was left over from the last trip (which usually wasn't much) went into the kitty for the next year's trip. We all had one of those "cash register banks" where you would put coins into a slot, pull the lever and it would record the amount while locking the coins in a compartment. When the amount reached $10, the bank would unlock and release all the change you accumulated. So whenever we would come across some spare change, find a dime in a pay phone or a quarter on the sidewalk, or someone would slip me a dollar, it would go into the cash register bank savings for the big bye bye. A few things to note about the cash register banks: For one, they didn't register the amount for pennies, so when the bank unlocked and you counted up your booty you could always expect a little extra to the amount. The register bank officially only took coins, but there was a round hole in the back that if you tightly rolled up a bill you could insert it into the bank to be included in the final amount later on, This was especially used when one of us got a $2 bill, a rare and exciting treat, $2 bills were considered sacred and privileged to be saved and only used on the trips, so all of these were rolled up and pushed through the hole in the back of the bank. The bank also didn't take dollar or half-dollar coins, which however could be inserted into a little slot in the back of the bank. We would often get silver dollars and 50 cent pieces from generous grandparents, so most of the time Dad insisted these went immediately into the slot in the back of the register bank. But having the little slot in the back of the bank turned out to be a neat little feature, which I'm not sure Dad was aware of, in that if you were desperate for cash, you could turn over and shake the coins in the bank in such a way that eventually choice coins would work themselves out. Using a tool like a flat-head screwdriver or a butter knife you could carefully manipulate the choice coins into position through the slot and procure a dollar or two out of the slot. I even caught Mom doing this on a few occasions when she needed an extra couple of bucks, the strategy being to try and get the half-dollars or dollars out as much as possible. The thought that I was cheating myself never entered the picture because when it came time to open the bank and count out the accumulated change, Dad was always somewhat surprised at the small-ish amount and kick in a few extra bucks to round out the amount.

When the time got close to leaving for the trip and the usual preparations were being made, it was a really exciting moment when Dad would finally bring out the register banks and insert the exact needed amount to reach that long awaited $10 and open the bank. With a satisfying and distinctive "click" and a triumphant "ding" of a bell, the bank would open and we would gleefully empty out the pile of change and assorted bills on the carpet. It became a long awaited tradition this counting of the money for the trip, we would start out sifting our fingers through the coins like greedy pirates who finally find the buried treasure chest of Spanish doubloons, a ritual we called "money-O!" Then we would carefully separate the different coins and stack them in appropriate amounts to be rolled in those paper coin rollers, and taken to the bank in exchange for more manageable forms of money to be used during the trip. We would spend a couple of hours on the floor counting out the change, separating out the "wheat pennies" to be saved separately, and it always seemed to work out to be about $30 or $40, if not Dad would chip in to make everyone equal.

The final result for the trip would be a roll or two of quarters with the person's name on the paper roll along with a running total of the amount in the roll (it started out being dimes but inflation dictated quarters were more practical) and a tightly rolled cylinder of $1 bills, each bill had a serial number written in pencil in the corner border along with the person's initials to designate who's money it was. The reason for the record keeping was to keep accurate track of how much was spent and who was spending. The cash was kept in Dad's tool box in the trunk compartment in the way back of the station wagon. The morning ritual before starting off for the day always included the doling out of our daily cash allowance. Us kids were allotted about 50 cents a day in quarters that was intended for the soda or snack machines at the motels, this would allow us at least two soda pops with maybe some change left to carry over to the next day. The dollar bills were given out at Dad’s discretion and were intended for special treats or souvenirs we encountered along the way. We quickly realized the benefit of planning for future items and souvenirs to purchase and save up the dollars over time for places like Estes Park, where the souvenirs were plenty and very tempting.

Dad also kept a special roll of $2 bills in the cash supply. These prized and privileged bills were rarely used and we felt reluctant to spend them. They were only given out if it was my birthday, Dad was feeling especially generous, (or was apologizing for something), or as a tip for a pretty and especially nice waitress at one of the many cafes we ate at. All-in-all I think this cash system worked rather well.