BROKE AND BROKEN : THE BIRTHDAY EDITION BY BRIAN POLK MY GRANDMA USED TO SEND ME $20 FOR MY BIRTHDAY, BUT NOW THAT SHE’S GONE, I HAVE TO USE MY OWN MONEY TO BUY DRUGS Every year until her passing, my grandma sent me a nominal financial offering for my birthday, which I would duly use to purchase illicit, mindaltering substances. It was even better when both of my grandmas were alive, because then I could afford twice as many narcotics. But now I don’t get any drug stipends, due to the fact that I have no remaining grandparents, my own parents are retired and on a tight budget, and I lost my rich in-laws during the separation. So I actually have to save up for my birthday black market provisions, like some kind of stray who has been kicked out of the pack. Either that, or I suppose I could hock the neighbors’ lawn furniture like I did for last year’s birthday drugs. No. 150 NOT TOO LONG AGO, I GOT THE IDEA TO COMPLETELY REINVENT MY WARDROBE. THEN I REALIZED I DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO REINVENT ANYTHING ABOUT MYSELF, AND THAT’S WHEN I REMEMBERED THE REASON I’VE ALWAYS DRESSED THIS WAY There’s a stanza in the Jeff Rosenstock song, “You, In Weird Cities,” where the singer expounds upon the fact that he doesn’t have to wake up to feed a kid. Then he says, “… it’s got to the point where I’m not sure if that’s something I wanted.” That line really awakened an urge to reevaluate decades of life choices that brought me to that moment. I thought to myself, Do I really want to keep living this way? Should I make some lifestyle changes? For example, do I really want to keep MARK MOTHERSBAUGH, FROM THE POSTCARD DIARIES: ELEPHANT BOY - ATLANTA, GEORGIA - SEPT. 22, 2025
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