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 be the 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.
