Man I Never Was

Alexander Wolfgang. Wolfie for short.

My father told me if I were a boy he’d have named me Wolfgang. Name like that, you have no choice but to learn a sense of humor. Most important thing you’ll ever develop, if the Family Curse hits you.

Our Family Curse:
“The curse of the monkey’s paw, white trash son of a bitch variation. Everything you wish for takes a hard left turn towards hell. You go broke, car breaks down, meanest bastards you ever meet outlive you. Stay away from motorcycles, honey.” - My Dad

I think this was my father’s way of explaining generational trauma to a seven-year-old.
It was also one of the most concise lessons in economics I’ll ever hear.
Every year economists report grim statistics about life without money. Poverty is expensive. 43% of Americans can’t pay for basic needs in 2024. My dad explained the traps of poverty with a deep Saint Louis self-loathing: he spoke gently of others but quickly slapped the label “dumb” on himself.
I wanted to be just like him. Skinnier, maybe, and not divorced.
Here is a portrait of the man I almost was.