Graduation Gifts

“Carter, I really liked your entry on Moses and BSB,” Gervin said as he stuck his head in .

“Thanks, I really need to get some more writing done,” I lamented. “But, when all I have to write about is the crushing depression that stems from this job search, it doesn’t make for terrific entries.”

Gervin commiserated as he dropped his suit jacket on a nearby couch and settled in next to me to take in Sportscenter that blasted from the chapter room TV. He had spent his afternoon meeting with important people in an attempt to find his own job, but had not had much success, and heard many of the same things I had.

“Congrats on your recent graduation, you should be very proud. But, unfortunately, we don’t have any opportunities right now. Good luck!” It’s as if this generic response was stamped to the end of the stimulus packages that have flown through the Capitol building in D.C. and forwarded to every office building in the nation.

Gervin chuckled. “Yea man, I know it’s tough, but if you don’t have anything to do during the day, the least you can do is write. Just write what is on your mind. You’re a good, writer, it’ll come to you.”

So, what is on an unemployed grad’s mind these days? Is it lament from missed opportunities during my four years of school that may have ensured employment? Based on the state of many of my classmates, it doesn’t appear my level of achievement was insufficient considering they have a similar circumstance to me. I have wondered if the time I squandered early in my career and the resulting unimpressive GPA (2.8) I accumulated would be my undoing, but many classmates with sterling records are in the breadlines with me. I managed to stay employed with internships and jobs throughout my four years, but the grinding economy has left them without any funds left in the coffers to add me to their ranks. Perhaps I should have picked a different major.

Sports have certainly helped. The NBA Finals will finally tip off tonight (why the TV stations cannot adjust if series do not go 7 games I will never fully comprehend), and while it is not the scintillating battle that many had hoped for (Lebron v. Kobe), the Magic present match-up headaches galore and should prove a formidable opponent in the way of Kobe’s first Shaq-less ring. The Phillies continue to enthrall and baffle, as they have ripped off six in a row and run their record away from the cozy confines of Citizens Bank Park to a league best mark of 19-6 despite the underwhelming 12-14 they’ve played to at home. And all-world (and aging) Eagle Brian Westbrook will get sliced again, leading to a mass panic by the midnight green faithful and some fun reading.

But economic realities are beginning to set in and cripple my dreams of restful nights. I received my last paycheck a week back from my former job, which was forced to let me go because their policy is only to employ full-time students in intern capacities. My once crisp, clean Macbook is beginning to turn a shade of maroon from the constant pounding the keys have taken while I fill out applications and churn out cover letters, but little good news has come my way. Even my search for part-time work has proven fruitless, which has taken me from construction companies, to law firms, doctor’s offices and even City Hall, where I had the dubious honor to apply to be a meter maid the other day.

Making matters worse is a decision I made a few months back. I had long hoped to travel across the pond, and Audrey expressed an interest in returning, particularly to her native Poland, where she has yet to be since she left at age 7. With my lease running till the end of July and her move to Florida for full-time work not set to take place till September, we decided to book a three week trip in August as a going-away present to ourselves, if you will. I expected that I would be able to continue on my $9 an hour salary through July and that a sizable windfall would come my way from graduation gifts, and any gaps that remained would be filled by my parents. However, that job is gone, my graduation party is not till Sunday (leaving my unsure of how much I can expect from my gracious family) and my parents do not seem so willing to help me as I had believed.

Before booking the airfare, I had sent my mother an e-mail expressing an interest in going and asking if she would be willing to float me a loan for whatever shortcomings I might encounter. She replied, “I think that’s a great idea, and I would be more than willing to help you out!” With the finances in order and my interest piqued, I found tickets for $666.67 (the first dubious sign) on British Airways, and the decision was set.

The dam finally broke on Monday night. My parents invited me over to dinner (sans Audrey) to tell me what they planned on giving me for graduation. I had long known that they had invested a considerable amount of money for my education, and since I saved them a ton by going to a state school, I expected I was in line to see some of that back as a gift to me. I learned my expectations were right; however, the gift came with some strings attached.

“So, Bud, we decided on this about a year ago. As you know, we have money for you in Stock Company A and B, and since you went to State College, you will be able to see that money; your sister is unlikely to be so fortunate,” Pop started. “So, we are giving you a choice. The stocks have grown to about $20,000, and we are going to let you see half.”

Wow, this is great. My smart, thoughtful parents had the foresight to invest for me, and since I didn’t blow all of the money on college, now I’ll get it to get my finances in order, cover my unemployment, find an apartment, etc.

“What we had originally decided was to buy you a car, but we are going to let you decide which one you want,” he said as he started adding the strings to the marionette. “I am not prepared to give you this money, because I can’t have you going off and blowing it, especially in Europe, and I know that’s what will happen.” String number two.

“If you don’t want to use it on a car, as I know you have often stated how you don’t want one and you’ve always gotten by without one, you can save it for grad school, as a down payment on a house, etc. But, if you do want the car, you can’t have it until you get a job and can pay the insurance.” String number three. “I have to get you off the insurance, Bud. I can’t have something happen that might jeopardize the house,” he said, as he knocked on the floor holding up his four walls.

I sat there with what must have looked like the most spoiled, brat filled expression the world has ever seen. My parents had given me $10,000, and I was disappointed. But, to recap, I could only have the money to buy a car, and I could only get the car when I get a job to pay for it, which, while reasonable, doesn’t really help me today, and, doesn’t seem like a graduation gift, but as an eventual “you finally managed to get a job you worthless, lazy shit” gift. Further, I can’t be trusted with any sum of money, because I will immediately go out and blow all of it on something deemed worthless, although I don’t see the value of a vehicle when I live within walking distance of a subway. And finally, the gift is only being given because my driving is too big a risk to Pop, who is almost certain to lose his house after I kill somebody, but which wouldn’t happen if his son had his own insurance, killed someone, and got the pants sued off of him.

But he wasn’t done. “And I cannot condone you going off to Europe with your girlfriend. I am not willing to let you have the money and blow it over there, and I cannot give you money for something I do not agree with. You are almost 22-years old, and you make your own decisions, but I refuse to finance something I am against.”

My parents are uber conservative, having married at ages 22 and 19, raised my sister and I to be steadfastly Catholic and have expected us to uphold all that entails. I still hold on to my faith very dearly, and I understand the potential “inappropriateness” that could be construed from a three week trip between boyfriend and girlfriend. However, Audrey and I traveled to Jamaica already. Audrey has lived down the street from me for an entire year. And when she was away in Philly working in Spring ‘08, I often borrowed my parents’ car to go visit her for the weekends. While they expressed disdain to all of these things, they enabled me to do all of them, as well. I had to borrow their car to drive to Philly. I had to spend money I saved for Jamaica that could have gone to rent or tuition. So, now they are concerned we might share a bed in Germany?

I was forced to call my mother and ask her for the money which Pop refused me on Monday, because my job had dried up, my graduation is still a few days away and the credit card is fat from the plane tickets and the due date occurs during my party. I asked her why she had agreed to loan me the money a month ago, but now had backed off that stance. She countered that she assumed it was something I would undertake when I was employed (fair, but like I need to hear that again) and that she was still willing to loan me the money, but certainly not to fund the trip. She admitted there was a lack of communication between her and my Dad, and that she did not realize he would be so rigid in his stance on the trip.

I, under no circumstances, expected my parents to fund the trip; I even knew that they wouldn’t like that I was going with Audrey. That was why I checked with them to make sure they’d be willing to help me fundraise, because their interest rate is merely guilt, which, while annoying, is cheaper than money. Now, instead of a gift from them, it feels like a bill. I have to find a job to get the gift, which will in turn cost me money (what car will I find for $10,000?), and pay the insurance, upkeep and gas for the car.

I also had the dubious honor of playing ungrateful son. I have turned my nose up at a gift they have worked on for years but that I deem unworthy because it is not what I want at the present time. I’ve never owned a car, and I would prefer to go as long as possible without one, but that is sure to become more difficult as time goes by and my days aren’t spent between academic buildings 15 minutes apart.

I took a risk by planning a trip I could not afford at the time and relying on future circumstances which have not since panned out. The trip comes in the middle of my job search, which may prevent me from getting an offer, since I’ll have to take 3 weeks off after a month or two on the job.

But, Audrey is leaving in a few months. She could be gone for as many as two years, and we will once again be forced to play the long distance game. And, when I finally get a full-time job, when will I have an opportunity to go off to Europe again? I can take out a loan to buy a car (I have had credit cards for years and have been excellent in paying them off), but asking a company to finance my escapades in Europe is sure to result in laughter or, at best, a raised eyebrow.

The trip might not happen at all, now, and I may be forced to pay up to $250 in cancellation fees if I cannot raise enough to go. But yet, each cheery voice is at least sure to offer the necessary “Good luck!” after telling me even their toilets are too pristine for me to clean.