Wednesday, February 27, 2008

"When we bleed we bleed the same…"-Muse





There's madness in them thar hills! The masses have seen articles on articles in 401k accounts and now they're tearing through financial files like flight attendants at a lost luggage party, or is that vultures at a carry-on party? Carrion? Ok I could see where vultures would have more use for the latter then a can of Nair and a push-up bra. Either way, you get the idea, and now have an pretty cool image of a pin-up vulture (Cathartes aura) souring through your mind. My gift to you: gratis, no 1099 required.


The 401k is just something new to take from a significant ex other. A means to make them pay that's worth more on the open market than a pound of flesh. Ok. No I'm not being cynical. " Bite me. " Yeah, that was cynical. Ok, maybe technically not, but it was vindictive, and vindictive flesh will be the meat served in the remainder of this blog.


See, I do understand where in some cases it's just fair ("What's yours is mine, what's mine is mine." ), but not always. Sometimes it's just fairly vindictive. I'm the fairly friendly divorce fairyer guy. I do not understand vindictive, but I hear it's very dark, unpleasant and unsatisfying. Sort of like marrying Heather Mills. Hey, If I have to take sides, I'll stand with Paul; he's a knight Beatle (or Nocturnal Volkswagenus).


Taking sides and taking stuff. That's what makes a divorce unfriendly: the outside people and the outside things. Left on our own in a void, without these pointy weapons, divorce would be blunt, but civil, and quick. We're human though; we don't want civil; we want to be Mr. T. in Rocky III.


"What's your prediction for this fight, Clubber?"

"Pain!"


MyUnwife and I did the best we could. We danced around the ring waiting for the bell to sound while dodgingl the occasional jab.


"I'll take the table. It's the only thing I ever got to choose anyway."

"You're not taking the food processor. You never used it anyway."


Yeah, after she left I mopped up the sweat and bile. The floors look good again, and don't eat at my toe flesh anymore.


I give us points though. We tiptoed around so many landmines. 401K and retirement money were ones we fenced off with flags and flares. "Abandon all hope all ye who enter here." I looked in her purse, she checked my wallet, and we both backed away slowly. I think she got the better money deal, but I kept my legs. We're even.


We both had money squirreled away in for our future. When our future divided we were entitled to divvying up the booty. It was our right. I like booty as much as the next guy, but sometime what's right has nothing to do with rights. Let the entitled feast on their own, we just wanted the check so we could leave.


Maybe That's the problem: it's the reason people fight. Some people fight to make the other person bleed. MyUnwife and I fought just to get away; we were wounded ermine retreating to safe egress. Maybe we wanted to hurt the other person, but more importantly we wanted to heal ourselves. We did what we could to make an even split then back away slowly gnashing teeth.


Think about it before scrambling after the golden egg nest egg. Is it worth it, or is this just another Humpty Dumpty nobody will put back together again? Don't look at me, I don't know. I'm still looking for my undergarments and Nair.

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