Modest Living (Day 37)

Modeste Mussorgsky. Modest Mouse. Modesto, California.

Who would name their kid “Modest” today? I always think of the composer waddling through the art exhibit to the tune of his “Promenade” motif from “Pictures at an Exhibition.” Was it meant to be, I don’t know, meaningful? Or was it just a trendy name at the time, like “Aaron” or “Cody” have been?

I always wanted to live well enough, in a modest way. When we moved from Fresno back in the Eighties, I thought this would e bathe place where we could live smoothly and quietly, just getting along, building equity, looking forward to the kids leaving and the peace of eventual retirement. Now, I have had to learn more about the economy than a dentist ever should. The house is next to worthless, which is still more than our 401(k) balances. Miranda and I don’t know what we are going to do now. These days, it feels like our dreams were dead before the thing even sank.

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