Next

     I was a spectacular failure as a 50-year-old sign language student.  (See previous posts here and here to read about my sign language classes, and click here if you want to see a video of me signing.  This was a class assignment, and is called, quite appropriately, Sheryl's Embarrassing Moment.)
     In order to become an interpreter, you need to understand every single word and nuance, and be able to translate it immediately.  The key to this is an excellent memory.  If you are a certain age, and every once in awhile you can't remember the word you are looking for, interpreting is not the gig for you.
     This was a painful realization for me.  I had always been a good student, and somehow, with sign language, I was not.  I worked at it for hours every single day for three long semesters.  It finally occurred to me that if I was interpreting in a courtroom setting, or worse, a hospital,  there would be no room for error.  I probably could have interpreted for a child, preferably a small one who signed slowly and had a limited vocabulary.  And it would have helped if he could hear.
     So what was I going to do?
     In the short term I hoped to make some quick cash with minimal effort.
     My first money making scheme brought me to the Horseshoe Casino in Hammond, Indiana.  I spent three and a half hours at the video poker machine (the crack cocaine of gambling) not even getting up to go to the bathroom.  I was, at one point, up nearly $100.  My problem (and oh, it is a problem) is that I love video poker so, so much that I can't bear to get up from the machine.  I would much rather play video poker than have $100.
     I never win money in Las Vegas or on a cruise, because there is no deadline, and I can sit at the machine until I get carpal tunnel and all my money has vanished. But after three and a half hours in Hammond, Indiana, my husband was about to drive away without me, and I was forced to choose between cashing out or being abandoned in Hammond.
     I left the Horseshoe Casino with $60.
     My next cash-for-no-work scheme was my pick in the NCAA March Madness bracket.  My family loves basketball and my sons and husband are very conversant about all the college teams and players. You would think that a 50ish suburban mother would just pick the team "in the red jerseys" but in my case you would be so wrong.
     When my boys were young, I realized that they LOVED sports, and if I wanted to talk to them about something that they wanted to talk about, I would have to learn about sports too.  I started reading the sports section of the newspaper, and then a few years ago I discovered the show PTI (Pardon the Interruption) on ESPN.  I don't know who watches this show at 4:30 every week day afternoon, but I doubt I am their target audience.  Anyway, the PTI hosts Tony and Mike were very helpful in suggesting possible upsets, and while my sons' brackets were busted after the Sweet Sixteen, I walked away with second place in my husband's office pool and the $200 prize.
     The third and final free money scheme did not involve gambling (even I was seeing a disturbing pattern).
     I decided to sell my jewelry.
     Not my good jewelry, but the gold jewelry that I didn't wear.  I rooted through my jewelry box for the orphan earrings and tangled chains, and I found a shocking number of items with Jewish stars.  I brought them to a jeweler, and he weighed them on a scale like they were a Weight Watcher's portion.  I was hoping for enough money to buy a new purse, but with gold at $1000 an ounce I walked away with a check to put a new roof on the house.
     I was flabbergasted, and I started to think about what else we had that I might be able to sell. I started going online just to see what my sterling silverware might be worth.  And if I sold the silver, then did I really need my china?  And if I wasn't going to be entertaining, I could certainly get a nice price for my dining room table!
    I could see this was a slippery slope, and potentially more addictive than video poker.
     Alas, I had run out of quick cash schemes.  I had done everything to avoid it, but finally there were no other options.
     It was time to get a job.