We stopped by the bank today to check on Silas' savings bonds, as he's starting college next month.

In addition to the bonds, he has some Silver Eagles in the safety deposit box:

                 

Kim's father is a die-hard Depression baby (well, my parents were frin the same era, but they were a few years younger, so they don't have as many memories of the really hard times) and doesn't like banks, doesn't like bonds - he like currency, and prefers silver or gold (he could teach Burl Ives a thing or two (seasonal reference :)) so he passed that on to Ethel, who bought these silver eagles when Silas was little.

I don't think it worked - silver has devalued when compared to the dollar (and very much when compared to gold). But they are still there, still real silver - and they are worth exactly as much in silver as they were worth when we bought 'em : )

Silas starting college - I'm hoping that he's able to have the same experience that I had (learning how much fun learning can be) without going what I had to go through to get that experience (it took me three wives, five majors and fifteen years to get my Bachelor's degree). He's a very bright kid (that's what they said about me) and I really believe that he's never been challenged enough to actually have fun in a classroom (that's the sort of thing that they said about me) so maybe college will make him happy.

He's taking two math classes (College Algebra and Trig, which can be taken together) and a fuzzy study (I think it's sociology, but I'm color-blind in that range) - I can still remember when I took College Algebra; I got a 112 average (there was some extra credit). This was after flunking algebra in high school - or near enough, anyway.

But Silas may not have that experience - he may have to do some of the things that I did (go into the military and get, uh, "instructed" by some drill sergeants, get "corrected" by the staff at the Correctional Custody Facility, get his wallet and ego lightened by some divorce lawyers, get some free nights' lodging courtesy of some deputy sheriffs) before he decides to pay attention. Some of us Pucketts have had to go to those extremes to get motivated; some, like my eldest brother, simply achieved from an early age and never stopped.

I'm not like my eldest brother, though - I'm a definite type-B personality. Which is strange, because people who meet me immediately think that I'm a "type A" - hmmm....let's see what wikipedia says....

"Type A individuals can be described as impatient, excessively time-conscious, insecure about their status, highly competitive, hostile and aggressive, and incapable of relaxation.^[1] They are often high achieving workaholics who multi-task, drive themselves with deadlines, and are unhappy about the smallest of delays."

Yeah - that's me. A high-achieving workaholic who is excessively time-conscious; that's why it took me fifteen years to get a Bachelor's degree. (Sure, I was wasting time the whole time - but I was keeping track of it!...nope. That's not true :) 

Type Bs are " patient, relaxed, and easy-going" - well, I am that way, somewhat. But I suspect I'm more of what is considered to be Type AB, which means that I can't be easily categorized; and, since I'm also a depressive, I reckon that that means that I'm type AB-.

(Bah-dump-bump : )

But I'm most definitely not a Type A. Now, I am certainly unsure about my status, and I don't have too much in the way of self-esteem, but I've never been one to drive myself to achieve because of those shortcomings - no, I'm also lazy, and my laziness is much stronger than my self-loathing. (It may also be a cause of that self-loathing, but, if so, I'm still too lazy to do anything about it :  )

Now, if you've read this far, then you and I probably know each other; and there are those who think that they know me who don't think that I'm lazy at all. This is because I'm fairly disciplined to follow certain habits that cause me to get up off of my patushka and keep busy - however, that still doesn't make me a Type-A, because none of those habits make me productive; they don't cause me to "achieve" - they most certainly don't make me a workaholic.(If I could make myself a workaholic, then I would have done so years ago - it's way too late now for me to even get started : )

I wish that I could make Silas a workaholic. I know folks who sit around and complain because their parents forced them to "overachieve" - but those who are saying that are saying it while being fairly well dressed, clean and well-fed, and comfortably well-off. I'd much rather my child curse my name for forcing him to be like that than have him sitting in a ditch, smelling bad with an empty stomach, and saying "Gee, my parents never forced me to do anything".

I reckon that is one of the ways that I make decisions - by figuring out what the folks following me will be cussing me about : )