BY CHRIS MILLSPAUGH
For most of the time, my life has been full of “haftas” and “wantstas.” It started when I got out of the U.S. Air Force in 1964. I immediately picked up the biggest “hafta”—paying for a roof over my head. This one has never ended. And, with no mom and no “chow hall,” another “hafta” emerged—getting food and drink to live on. That, too, has remained paramount in my life. Then, when a wife and a son came along, more “haftas” loomed. But I was in love, so that didn’t bother me, until I realized, “I have to get a job, which will pay for my family and me.” And, heating would be good. Thus, another “hafta.” So, roof, food, heat and money from the job to pay for everything. That’s it? Well, what about lights at night and power to operate those things. Okay, okay. Welcome to the “hafta” electricity bill.
When I discovered my job would be miles from my home, I thought, “I ‘hafta’ get a car, and if it breaks down, I’ll ‘hafta’ get it fixed.” So many “haftas” and not enough “wantstas.” I pondered that and said to myself, “What do you really ‘wantsta’ do?” I replied, “I ‘wantsta’ play my guitar and entertain in clubs and write a little on the side.” And, so I did for many years to come.
However, my life became a continuing war with “haftas” against “wantstas.” I needed a better home, a newer car, newer furniture, new clothes for my family and for me, a newer guitar, sheet music, union dues and booze.
Then came doctor bills, insurance packages and lawyer fees. There were also sports tickets, HBO, birthday gifts, vacations, new babies and… taxes! Eek! Up down, down up, up down—it became overwhelming. I had to get rid of “wantstas” and concentrate solely on “haftas.” It became “rat race – America.” I was about to explode, but then, I moved to Idaho. Idaho? How in the hell did I get here? (That will be another story, later on, dear readers.)
Now, I’m old and retired, living on a fixed income. I also have a tortoiseshell cat named Myles who keeps me totally entertained. I still write, but there’s not many “wantstas” left with still the same basic “haftas”—shelter, food, heat, Netflix, no booze, phone bill. In the winter, there’s snowplow paying and power bills. Other times, there are doctor bills and occasional operations.
I’m quite happy now, actually. I watch my cat and emulate everything she does, like staying up all night, drinking water from the tap and sleeping most of the day. I don’t “hafta” have a job or go on stage and entertain a drunken crowd and … oh yeah, there’s a new one—“goinstas.” I’m “goinstas” win the lottery. I’m “goinstas” travel the world, I’m “goinstas” be a famous writer. You know, ideas you will probably never achieve.
Now it’s good times in the Wood River Valley and I’m at peace. Oh, damnit, I “hafta” get this in before the deadline! Nothing’s perfect.
Nice talking to you.