Off With The Lights!

The blog was looking a little plain, so I put this header together. It's kind of big, but I like myself, a lot. So, It works. A lot.

I was reading my nephews blog about how his dad, my brother, had offered him money to bring his blood-glucose levels down. (My nephew has Diabetes.) It got me thinking about an early experience I had with temporal incentives...*

From my earliest days, I was impressed with the knowledge that money doesn't grow on trees. Finances in our home were a little tight (not surprising with eight kids in the family), but we always had food on the table and a roof over our heads. Despite our relatively thin resources, we enjoyed all of the modern middle-class amenities including a NES system complete with Super Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt. Brand New. When it was still the new thing. That was one christmas present that completely blew me away. I mean, those things are something like $100.

In my early childhood, $100 was a ridiculous amount of money. Lavish. It was precisely $100 that was the subject of a memorable lecture given by my father, Mr. Leon, to us children. He explained to us numerous instances during the past few months where he had entered a room where the lights and t.v. were on and no one was to be found. He then reminded us that he had asked us repeatedly to turn off the lights and t.v. when we leave a room. "Turn OFF the lights! Turn OFF the television!" T.V. is not a right, it is a privilege. Pretty standard stuff. I think half of us were sleeping.

Then, he brought down the house. He started by telling us how much he had been paying for electricity. It was a lot, way over $100. Alarms started going off in my head, I had no idea we were spending a fortune every month just to have the lights and t.v. turn on when we flipped the switches. While I was still reeling from this astonishing information, Dad acknowledged that his continual pleas for our compliance would not be enough in these extreme circumstances. He said he would make a deal with us kids. He said that if we brought down next month's electric bill below $100, we would all go out to eat... to the Sizzler! I may have lost consciousness for a second. My head was spinning in a mixture of euphoria, anticipation, and responsibility.

For those of you of the younger generation, in suburbia in the mid to late 1980's it didn't get much better than Sizzler. It wasn't much different than heaven. I had heard a lot about it. I had never actually been, but everything I heard sounded amazing. The Crowley's did not go out to eat. In addition to the aforementioned financial issues we faced, there was the problem of seating a family of our size, keeping the youngsters from punching each other, tipping the annoyed waitress, etc.

Needless to say, the declaration was monumental and unprecedented. It coincided with a wave of optimism and determination to change. Dad reassured us that the goal was certainly within reach and that it was up to all of us to monitor and take responsibility.

The new opportunity loomed over my every action. "Turn OFF the lights! Turn OFF the television!" I heard his voice like Pavlov's bell every time I left a room. I found myself touring the house hunting for wasted electricity, and snuffing it out every time it reared its ugly head.

As I remember, it took us two months to bring the bill down, but we did it. The wait was almost unbearable, but the day finally arrived. Accomplishment, pride, reward, valor, and an all you can eat salad bar: all for the price of a few flipped switches.

What's your parental incentive story?

*I invite my siblings who were a little older at the time to clarify or correct details of this story.