Anything for Money

Lance and I were apartment managers in Mountain View, California the first year of Annica's life. We lived in kind of a rough neighborhood where drug deals and episodes of domestic violence were common. In fact, Lance, at my insistence, knocked on our upstairs neighbor's door and interrupted a drug bust. (Of course, I didn't KNOW a drug bust was taking place. I had just seen the paramedics haul someone out to the ambulance from that apartment, and I asked Lance to check on those tenants.) The police thought Lance had come to buy drugs. We reported a domestic violence situation to the police when we heard our next-door neighbors violently fighting and throwing furniture.

Needless to say, baby Annica and I didn't venture outside our apartment too often unless we were accompanied by others. We tended to occupy ourselves by playing with toys, reading books and listening to music in our little apartment. I also stayed busy with apartment complex paperwork, showing apartments, tending to the pool and being on cockroach watch. (Our roach motels had many occupants. "They check in, but they never check out.")

Another one of my diversions was watching television. I became addicted to "Leave it to Beaver" reruns. I rarely missed an episode of that show. I liked it so much that I decided to have my own version of Eddie Haskell. But, I digress. The other television show that captured my attention was "Anything for Money." The aim of the show was to get unsuspecting people to become involved in strange pranks/scenarios for as little money as possible. Of course, the people had no idea they were being "played" as the scenarios were, in most cases, cleverly disguised as real-life situations. Seriously, though, who could possibly think that climbing into a barrel to exchange clothes with a mostly-naked man could be a true, real-life situation?

I was completely fascinated to see how many people would do just about anything (i.e. swallow a live goldfish, allow themselves to be wrapped in aluminum foil and be rotisseried on top of a car, break up with a stranger's "girlfriend," etc.) for just a few dollars. The amount paid for each prank ranged from $10 to over $100.

The show didn't stay on the air for very long, but it's impact on me has been long-lasting. Every time I learn of a shady politician, a cheat or thief, someone being willing to pose for a pornographic magazine or an individual who tries to monetarily capitalize on their "15 minutes of fame" (and the list goes on), I think of that show. Yes, it's true--many people would do just about anything for money.