- J
- E
On April 1st myself, my wife Becky, and our two medicats - Dr. Gonzo and Dr. Zoidberg - are pulling up stakes in rural Colorado and moving our lives, our worldly goods, and our accumulated treasures to a new life in Sacramento, California. We have a place to live when we get there; we’re raising money for a moving truck, gas, lodging along the way, and enough to cover our medical bills and living expenses while we find employment. That’s the bullet points, but our story is a lot more nuanced than that…
A quick history of Becky Penn & Kelly Hardie - how we got here, and where we are now:
1975: Becky & I meet in high school, form a love for the ages, and break up badly after 7 months.
1998: After 23 years of not speaking to each other, we reunite.
2005: We marry.
2006: I get a job offer in rural Colorado and we decide to get a fresh start, out of L.A. and out of jobs there that we both hated. It doesn’t go well. We have a very hard time finding affordable housing, Becky can’t find more than temp work, and I slip on the ice and end up not being able to work for several weeks.
2007: Becky finally finds a decent job, but financial stress leads to my having a heart attack, leading to medical bills, leading to more financial stress, and we file for bankruptcy. Servicing the bankruptcy sucks up most of the money Becky makes. Still, we feel like we are finally climbing out of the hole.
2010: Becky’s company closes her branch, and she’s unemployed again. Still having trouble finding employment, she returns to school to try to learn skills more saleable in the area.
2011: My mother’s health declines, forcing Becky to drop out of school and use much of our savings to travel out of state to organize Mom’s affairs.
2012: We are finally out of bankruptcy, but we have no savings and no credit.
2013: My mother dies. We both struggle with grief and depression.
2014: A procedure intended to relieve my chronic tendonitis in my right Achilles tendon is only temporarily effective, and I start to develop similar problems in my right rotator cuff tendon.
2015: The tenant living downstairs in our duplex buys it out from under us and evicts us in the middle of winter, forcing a move to a more expensive home with a 56-mile commute. In late summer, my employer moves me from the more lucrative Audi side of the shop (I’m a mechanic) to the Volkswagen side, essentially cutting my pay by 30%. In September, the Volkswagen diesel emission scandal breaks. And to top off the worst year ever, the week before Thanksgiving, Becky falls down the stairs, breaking her eye socket and femur, and shattering her kneecap.
2016: As tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills continue to pour in, Becky struggles to learn how to walk again. VW’s business continues to wither, and with it my income. I’m normally not one to complain about my troubles (or even share them with any but those closest to me), but on my birthday, December 24th, I find myself feeling sorry for myself and pour my heart out on Facebook in a long and rambling post that I shall mercifully summarize for you here:
“I’m in pretty much constant pain, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do my job for a company that is imploding. Becky can’t stay on her feet much and needs to find a desk job, both for her self esteem and our financial help, but nothing like that seems to be in the cards around here. We have no credit. We’re out of money. Colorado is a wonderful place, but it doesn’t seem to be the place for us.”
And lo, something wonderful happened. An old friend tells me she has an empty house in California that she’d purchased for her retirement. She says we can live there for at least a year, rent free, in exchange for taking care of upkeep and maintenance. It’s in Sacramento, a much larger job market from where we are now. We can go home to California, and get our lives together again!
Now, we just have to get there. Becky’s brother is bringing a small cargo van and a car trailer, and we’re selling as much as we can that we don’t need, including Becky’s car. Still, there is a few rooms of furniture, the treasures of two lifetimes (along with those of our parents), us and our two cats to move. We are grateful for any help you can offer, and thank you for taking the trouble to read this.
Dr. Gonzo & Dr. Zoidberg
A quick history of Becky Penn & Kelly Hardie - how we got here, and where we are now:
1975: Becky & I meet in high school, form a love for the ages, and break up badly after 7 months.
1998: After 23 years of not speaking to each other, we reunite.
2005: We marry.
2006: I get a job offer in rural Colorado and we decide to get a fresh start, out of L.A. and out of jobs there that we both hated. It doesn’t go well. We have a very hard time finding affordable housing, Becky can’t find more than temp work, and I slip on the ice and end up not being able to work for several weeks.
2007: Becky finally finds a decent job, but financial stress leads to my having a heart attack, leading to medical bills, leading to more financial stress, and we file for bankruptcy. Servicing the bankruptcy sucks up most of the money Becky makes. Still, we feel like we are finally climbing out of the hole.
2010: Becky’s company closes her branch, and she’s unemployed again. Still having trouble finding employment, she returns to school to try to learn skills more saleable in the area.
2011: My mother’s health declines, forcing Becky to drop out of school and use much of our savings to travel out of state to organize Mom’s affairs.
2012: We are finally out of bankruptcy, but we have no savings and no credit.
2013: My mother dies. We both struggle with grief and depression.
2014: A procedure intended to relieve my chronic tendonitis in my right Achilles tendon is only temporarily effective, and I start to develop similar problems in my right rotator cuff tendon.
2015: The tenant living downstairs in our duplex buys it out from under us and evicts us in the middle of winter, forcing a move to a more expensive home with a 56-mile commute. In late summer, my employer moves me from the more lucrative Audi side of the shop (I’m a mechanic) to the Volkswagen side, essentially cutting my pay by 30%. In September, the Volkswagen diesel emission scandal breaks. And to top off the worst year ever, the week before Thanksgiving, Becky falls down the stairs, breaking her eye socket and femur, and shattering her kneecap.
2016: As tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills continue to pour in, Becky struggles to learn how to walk again. VW’s business continues to wither, and with it my income. I’m normally not one to complain about my troubles (or even share them with any but those closest to me), but on my birthday, December 24th, I find myself feeling sorry for myself and pour my heart out on Facebook in a long and rambling post that I shall mercifully summarize for you here:
“I’m in pretty much constant pain, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do my job for a company that is imploding. Becky can’t stay on her feet much and needs to find a desk job, both for her self esteem and our financial help, but nothing like that seems to be in the cards around here. We have no credit. We’re out of money. Colorado is a wonderful place, but it doesn’t seem to be the place for us.”
And lo, something wonderful happened. An old friend tells me she has an empty house in California that she’d purchased for her retirement. She says we can live there for at least a year, rent free, in exchange for taking care of upkeep and maintenance. It’s in Sacramento, a much larger job market from where we are now. We can go home to California, and get our lives together again!
Now, we just have to get there. Becky’s brother is bringing a small cargo van and a car trailer, and we’re selling as much as we can that we don’t need, including Becky’s car. Still, there is a few rooms of furniture, the treasures of two lifetimes (along with those of our parents), us and our two cats to move. We are grateful for any help you can offer, and thank you for taking the trouble to read this.
Dr. Gonzo & Dr. Zoidberg