The American Dream is Shiny with 0% APR.
I want to talk for a second about my friend’s mom, which is actually an amalgamation of several friends’ moms, but for the purposes of this post will be presented as a singular archetype.
(For a more academic read on cultural values read this good article by Harvard professor Juliet Schor. Or if you’re looking for statistics of US workers compared to European workers read here.)
My friend’s mom is a highly competent and well-salaried woman who is seemingly successful in all personal and professional aspects of her life. I respect her immensely for her management skills and her ability to disassemble a bed and have it stacked for moving in a minute flat. (It was the easiest helping a friend move stint I have ever done, because her mom practically did it all for me.)
MFM works as high level administrative position for a major pharmaceutical company. She has a caring husband with whom she owns a nice house, dresses well, and drives a Beemer. We get along because I’m generally pleasant and avoid political conversation with people with the title of My Friend’s Parents. Little does she know that I’m judging her, not for the qualities or material goods she possesses, but for the tacit arrogance with which she presents them.
More after cut.
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Observations on Workaholics and American Work Ethic
The American Dream is Shiny with 0% APR.
I want to talk for a second about my friend’s mom, which is actually an amalgamation of several friends’ moms, but for the purposes of this post will be presented as a singular archetype.
(For a more academic read on cultural values read this good article by Harvard professor Juliet Schor. Or if you’re looking for statistics of US workers compared to European workers read here.)
My friend’s mom is a highly competent and well-salaried woman who is seemingly successful in all personal and professional aspects of her life. I respect her immensely for her management skills and her ability to disassemble a bed and have it stacked for moving in a minute flat. (It was the easiest helping a friend move stint I have ever done, because her mom practically did it all for me.)
MFM works as high level administrative position for a major pharmaceutical company. She has a caring husband with whom she owns a nice house, dresses well, and drives a Beemer. We get along because I’m generally pleasant and avoid political conversation with people with the title of My Friend’s Parents. Little does she know that I’m judging her, not for the qualities or material goods she possesses, but for the tacit arrogance with which she presents them.
More after cut.
Read more…