Hillbilly Elegy

garbage in our wake. Thrift is inimical
to our being. We spend to pretend that
we’re upper-class. And when the dust
clears—when bankruptcy hits or a
family member bails us out of our
stupidity—there’s nothing left over.
Nothing for the kids’ college tuition, no
investment to grow our wealth, no rainy-
day fund if someone loses her job. We
know we shouldn’t spend like this.
Sometimes we beat ourselves up over it,
but we do it anyway.
Our homes are a chaotic mess. We
scream and yell at each other like we’re
spectators at a football game. At least
one member of the family uses drugs—
sometimes the father, sometimes the