[Author's note 2016: this list is the names of flowers assigned to keep track of bi-weekly payments dating from 1973. It's actually quite revealing of the state of computers at the time that I was still using a typewriter. But hey, at least I could. There were not real database or accounting software packages available that were priced right for this type of tracking.
This represents the first budget of my life, because it was just after I got the first job that paid me enough to make any kind of payments.]
The following is a scan of a typewritten sheet with the names of 150 flowers. I can only find the first page. The significance of this paper is that, although I may not have been able to keep all the promises I made, at least I sincerely tried. When I was a teen in college, I dated a beautiful lady and of course, she liked to go out, the rich like to go out. Be seen. But I could not afford it. So she paid every time, which embarrassed me so much I promised myself I'd pay her back. She would not have taken the money, but her father would. After we broke up, she must have told him she had picked up the tab. He demanded repayment, and this is the list whereby I paid a small amount every two weeks until every penny was returned. This page represents 300 weeks, or 5-3/4 years of payments.
[Author's note 2015-12-01: some 34 years later I still have this sheet of paper. Typed out by hand, it reminds me of how early I learned to discipline my control over money. This date in 1981 was merely 8 days after I had to drop out of university and take a career job. It signifies that before I even had my first paycheck, I began making this complicated long-term plan to pay back money which I did not have to. Yes, I'm proud of that. If I was poor when I left home, I was destitute after a few years of university. That part has not changed.
So much time has passed I'll reveal a few details about this situation. When the lady and I broke up (she had wanted to get married and pregnant before I finished school), I promised to call her, no matter what, on her 40th birthday. She got me to make that promise, to call whether she was married or famous, I was to call. I did. Her father answered the phone and would not let me speak to her.
This is the same father who said to me (in this redacted form, as he was talking about my upbringing), "You have no stocks, no bonds, no apartment buildings, no investment portfolios--how you ever got yourself into such a jam by the time you were 8 years old
[Author's note: if I recall correctly, each payment was for $9.34, so I paid back $1400 per this page alone. I think there were two pages, but the second was not full. I paid no interest, but none was negotiated or asked for. It was mostly when she wanted to go out while I was a starving student and she knew I would not accept charity. Of course, her old man blew up when he found out she had been paying, but I think I've given you an adequate glimpse into his character. Yes, he was an Englishman, why do you ask?]
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