Friday, May 6, 2011

Just Finished My Income Tax


“Well, I just finished filling out my income tax.  I finally got around to it.  I wasn’t in any hurry since I won’t get anything back.”
                                                                       Art Price
                                                                       Letter to June Anderson, March 9, 1950

Income tax was just as much a routine part of life in 1950 as it is today.  So what was Art paying in taxes?  With the 1950 median family income at $3,300, I think it’s safe to assume that Art’s annual earnings for working full-time at Roulston’s grocery store were less than $2,000, putting him in 1950’s  lowest tax bracket.  Paying a marginal tax rate of 20%, he would have contributed $200 in taxes for every $1,000 earned (without figuring in any deductions).

In 1950, the average family income of $3,300 would have been taxed at a 22% marginal tax rate.  Tax rates escalated upward with income, topping out at 91% for individuals or families earning $200,000 or more.  Many deductions were allowed, so it can be assumed that most high earners significantly reduced their tax burden from that 91% rate.

To compare this with taxes in 2011, the lowest marginal tax rate today is 10% – this means, a person earning less than $17,000 per year contributes $100 in tax for every $1,000 earned (half the 1950 rate).  Then the tax rate increases with income, topping out at 35% for people earning $379,150 or more.  Many deductions are still allowed that significantly reduce the amount paid into the system by both low and high earners.

In other words, income taxes are much lower now than in 1950 for both low and high earners.

Information for this entry was drawn from the document “Federal Individual Income Tax Rates History” on the Tax Foundation website.

(For Monday – a bad day at the races.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

"...except the parts with the dog."

Detail of a fashion illustration by June Anderson.

Wednesday, May 3, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Painting of a dog by Art Price.
I still think about the wonderful time I had this past weekend.  I loved every minute of it – except the parts with the dog.  But with you – Oh!  my darling!  By the way, how is your car now?

Shirl just came in.  She was out with Ted tonight.  Lucky kids – she gets to go out with her boyfriend.  But I’ll be with you all weekend – won’t I?

Shirl and I are going room hunting tomorrow.  Now don’t start in about not being able to make decisions or something like that.  You see, it’s this way.  The other kids have decided not to move until Camille’s exams are over in the middle of June.  Knowing them, Shirl’s worried that they might change their
minds and decide not to move at all.
Charcoal sketch of a dog
by Art Price



Therefore, Shirl and I have decided to look for an apartment for the two of us.  Then if the kids find an apartment for five of us later on, we’ll move in with them – if not, we’ll still be set for summer.  Tomorrow I’ll report present at school, then leave right away, and look for an apartment with Shirl.  I hope we can find something.

I’m slowly catching up on schoolwork, which makes me very happy;  and doing it without too much effort on my part which is even better.

Art, it’s getting late – I have to set my hair and take a shower, and I’m getting sleepy already.  So till I see you Friday,

All my love,

June

P.S.  We haven’t found a place to stay yet.  We’re still looking, though.  I just wanted to add that I got your letter and am terribly sorry to hear you’re feeling bad.  I certainly hope you will feel better soon.  Baby yourself a couple of days.  Bye now,

Love,

June

(For Friday – gas prices and taxes.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Monday, May 2, 2011

A Rose-Tinted World

Pencil sketch by June Anderson.

Monday, May 1, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City, NY

Dear Art,

My world is completely rose-tinted tonight.  Shirl’s been teasing me all day.  It seems like I’ve been walking around with my head up in the clouds ever since last night with you.  And apparently it’s quite noticeable, too.  I’d say to everybody I’d meet, “My, I had a wonderful weekend.”  And they would ask me what I did, and I would say, “Oh, nothing in particular.”  But I did.  I went out with you and it was wonderful, and darling, I love you.  I feel so good.

I’m coming home this weekend.  Shirl’s going to stay with June O’Neal in the city.  I was invited, too, but of course I said no.  So I’ll see you Friday, darling.

Now I’m going to take a quick shower and pop right into bed.  It’s getting late. Four more days, darling, and I’ll be home.

All my love,

June

(For Wednesday – room hunting in the city.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Sleeping to Make the Time Pass

Detailed drawing of stitching by June Anderson.

Thursday, April 27, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Fashion illustration by
June Anderson.
Sweetheart, don’t worry about me.  I’m sorry I get moody and fuss about it to you.  Besides, if I can’t get along less than two weeks without you, it’s just too bad for me.  I know I have to get used to it.

The time is passing so slowly.  Ted and Shirl are out on a date tonight.  I think Shirl and I may have changed our minds and decided to move again.  But I can’t swear to it so I won’t say anymore about it.

This is my last letter before I leave, darling.  I love you and I’ll enlarge upon that statement this weekend.

Darling, it’s five minutes to one now and I’m ready to go to bed.  Shirl’s here.  I did some homework – quite a bit and that makes me feel pretty good.  I’m going to bed now.  The more I sleep, the quicker the time passes till I see you again.  I love you, darling.

All my love,

June

(For Monday – a rose-tinted world.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Tuesday, April 25, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Fashion illustration by
June Anderson.
I have so much homework (the old complaint).  I try to do some work in school but can’t seem to accomplish a thing.  Shirl’s making a plaid dress in school and she brought it home to do some work on it here tonight.  It’s all gored and pleated and she has to match all the plaids perfectly.  She worked so hard, finished, held it up to look at it (one seam) and you should have seen her face!  It was a glaring mistake.  We both got hysterical.  I’ve been teasing her ever since.  Poor kid.  I hope she’ll keep me for a roommate!

You couldn’t have answered that moody letter I sent you in any better way.  Not possibly.  I’m back normal enough, so I could even laugh at what you thought of it.  You were, of course, perfectly right.  The only thing is, will it be safe for me to come home Friday?

I hate to see the USA play sissy or anything, but they’d just better not have
a war with Russia until you’re 50 or so.  I just dare them.

Oh, darling!  They’re playing “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” on the radio.  May I?  But I seem to prefer darling anyway, so I guess I’ll just continue calling you that.  Darling and Art.  Both are nice.  Okay, darling?

All my love,

June

(For Thursday – more apologies for moodiness.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Monday, April 25, 2011

June, the Wonderful Housewife


Fashion illustration by June Anderson.

Monday, April 24, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City, NY

Dear Art,

I certainly hope you’re burning up my letters, or something similar.  They must sound awfully silly lately.

Shirl and I have cleaned up this place.  I vacuumed, dusted, and swept the chairs off.  I bet you didn’t know I would make such a wonderful housewife, did you?  Well, you’d probably be right!  I can’t cook either.  In fact, I’m practically helpless.  And I’m no raving beauty.  Oh, oh.  Why in the world DO you love me?  I’d better start acquiring some assets.

I loved talking to you today.  I felt much better afterward.  Shirl and I went to a movie – Key to the City with Clark Gable and Loretta Young.  We enjoyed it.  I hadn’t seen a movie with her in ages.

As you can tell, darling, I’m feeling quite good tonight.  It’s all because you were so understanding on the phone.  Hmmm!  If you were here I’d just wrap my arms around you and hug you so tight!  You’d have to struggle and fight to make me let go.  I love you so much.

I really can’t say much more.  All I can say is you are so sweet and wonderful you certainly deserve a nicer girl than a selfish creature like me.  But, darling, that doesn’t stop me from loving you one bit.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – Let me call you sweetheart.)

© 2011 Lee Price

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Three-Part Letter


Sunday, April 23, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Fashion illustration by June Anderson.
Well here’s another letter from your problem child again.  I’m here all alone on a Friday night, but I feel so much better than I did when I wrote that last letter.  I’ve read, eaten, and even done a little homework.

Darling, I’ve been listening to the radio all night.  Why must all the songs be love songs, or ones that we listen to together?  I’d love to have you here beside me tonight but you’re in my thoughts anyway.

Shirl’s out with Ted.  Heaven knows when she’ll get in.

I hope I can come home next weekend.  Complications seem to be arising.  Room hunting, you know.

Dear Art,

It’s now about 10:30 a.m. on Sunday morning.  You ought to be calling in about two hours, I suppose.

I had a lovely time over June’s and Betty’s apartment last night.  We played Canasta which I don’t like, and Bridge which I love.  They served some Southern fried
chicken which was delicious. 
June O’Neal’s from West Virginia, you know.  She cooked it.

Shirl and I room hunted yesterday and we didn’t see anything nice at all.  So we changed our minds again.  That means I’ll be home next weekend.  Will I be seeing you?

We’re going to the Bronx Zoo this afternoon which should be very nice.  Then Shirl’s going out this evening, which means another lonely night caged up in this room.

Well, that’s all for now.

- - - - -

Darling, this is after the telephone call from you.  I feel much better, sweetheart, I really do.  It’s just that sometimes I feel you don’t love me so much anymore and it frightens me.  I’m really sorry I’m so much worry to you.  But you fixed me up by talking to me.  We’re not going to the zoo.  It’s too bad out.  Maybe Shirl and I will go to the movies.  I love you, my darling – much too much.

Love,

June

(Tomorrow – June, the wonderful housewife.)

© 2011 Lee Price