Hollow Houses

It's a balmy night, for a treat tonight we take the kids out cruising for Christmas lights. As we drove through new suburbs full of hollow mansions I could hear the envy in their voices. “Daaad I wish we had a two story house.... Daaaad why don't we have a pool?” 

I hate these places but took the opportunity to explain, why we are the wealthy ones. We are rich with laughter and fart jokes and gay budgies and our senile dog. We are rich with time for each other and space all around us and freedom to come and go... We are free! We have no half million dollar mortgage, no banker's death-grip sentence, forcing us to put you kids in care while we work six or seven days per week, At night we read you stories and play games while others are agitated attempting to solve their financial concerns. 

We aren't troubled by ambition's din. We have what we need. When the percolator boils in the morning we can afford to sit a while and watch the wild birds in our yard as they silently feed their chicks or laugh at the antics of the horny Gilbert's dragons bobbing their black and white heads. 

Not many lights about this year... The stock market returns are grim, mining boom's over the dollar is down... Departing the suburban mausoleum with it's streets full of empty monolithic money god shrines, I do three laps of the roundabout just for fun, centrifugal force pushing the kids sideways to the left of their seats. 'Wooooooaaaaaaooow” We count, One – Twoooo – Threeeeee as we pass the second exit for the third time... A light flickers on the dash, the remains of our fuel is hugging the side of the tank... Time to straighten up and steer for home looks like we'll be cycling till pay day.