On Spending
For several consecutive Christmases as I child, I wished for a Barbie Dream House. My dolls would have enjoyed "trading up" from the book shelf abode my mom lovingly built, or their summertime "Winnebago" I repurposed from a railroad stake box I found along the tracks. Alas, Santa never left the plastic pink monstrosity under our tree, and since my Barbies had no line of credit, I focused and improved upon what they had, using my imagination and creativity.
There are TV shows where first-time homeowners go tens of
thousands of dollars over their budgets buying and/or renovating their
homes. These people believe that
their home must be exactly what they
want, and they expect nothing less than commercial stainless steel appliances,
granite countertops, bamboo flooring and big, spa-like en suites.
Today, what was once a luxury is now considered a necessity,
at the expense of a credit card balance or mortgage. We have ideas from the media about what we should have,
wear, and how we should live without thinking of how we should begin to pay for
the "status" we're trying to achieve. Look around any high school or middle school and you'll see
what I mean: kids spend $70 (probably on dad's credit card) on a sweatshirt
that's basically an advertisement for that brand of clothing. Wearing that shirt makes the student a
member of the club: "I'm seeking external validation by paying to
advertise this cool clothing line, pick me, pick me." This is fine if you truly identify with
and feel validated by having the word "PINK" stamped in 6-inch
letters across your backside. The
question is, are we requiring these items in order to fit what society expects us to want?
It scares me to think of where this is heading, this need to
obtain every luxury rather than focusing on necessities. There are people who can't pay their
rent or electric bill, yet they have a new car, a hot tub, 600 channels on
their 50-inch TV, and they go out to eat several times a week. The other extreme: when my husband and
I first lived together, we didn't own a serving spoon. We used little spoons to stir pots and
serve meals, which consisted mostly of deer steak and gravy over rice or
potatoes. Our rent was $100 a
month for a mouse-infested pair of antique train cars tacked together into a
sort of doublewide "extreme home." Since the oven didn't work, I baked tiny batches of biscuits
in a toaster oven we still use today, 27-years later. My husband had a good job for the time; we just didn't
believe in living beyond what was necessary for survival. Though it would have been easy enough
to purchase a spoon even before
Walmart came to town, it wasn't that important to us. We eventually got bigger spoons and even a telephone when we
got married and bought our first home, a 700-square-foot house that didn't have
counter space beyond what held the dish drainer, so granite, while it would
have been affordable, was not an issue.
Getting bigger spoons and a telephone was pretty cool, though.
I remember peddling pen and ink sketches at the local cafe for $3 each to put gas in the tank to go to college. Today, people swipe a credit card, and take an extra $100
out of an ATM to go shopping for clothes.
Our government gives away cell phones, while my husband and I shared one
until 2013 when my business warranted a separate phone. When I worked as a teacher's aide and also as a tutor, a student on free lunches asked
me if our phone was a track phone, as it was so cheap and small compared to her
iPhone. The irony was disturbing,
that a kid on assistance had nicer things than a grown, working couple with
three good jobs could-or would- provide for themselves. We had differing ideas about
"necessities."
People today have forgotten how to save for a special
purchase, or prioritize spending. As
in the 1920's, we want the best, now, and plan to pay for it later. I believe this way of thinking is at
the root of our country's financial crisis: "I deserve a nice house," " I deserve a nice
car." We're so lucky that we
live in a country where we can become whatever we want. We can work hard, save, build
businesses, and make our dreams come true. We can work our way to a job that allows us to afford a
high-end lifestyle, or we can enjoy a lower-paying position that gives us more
time with our families or other interests, and we can save for the special
things we desire. We must know
which category we're in currently, and live and spend accordingly.
I'm not saying that we should live like paupers-it was
stupid not to own a big spoon, as it cost little and would have made life
easier- I live in a doublewide with linoleum on the kitchen floor and
Formica on the counters, but thanks to my husband's hard work and our thrifty
lifestyle, it's paid for. I can
get granite countertops now, but will that improve my quality of life? Our cars
have a combined 759,000 miles on them, but they are paid for and they run. My clothes, while second-hand, are good-quality
brands whose logos aren't displayed across the front. (I'd shop second-hand
even if I were a millionaire because it's smart, fun and green).
Like my Barbie dolls, I didn't get my dream house, but I
have a home that I love. And as
with the Barbie Dream House, the desire to have items of grandeur fades away
when we focus on what's really important: who you share your life with and what
you leave behind in the hearts of those you love. A toilet brush is a vital tool, but a plastic one serves the
same purpose as a jewel-encrusted 14K gold one. Besides, if you obtain your dream house to start with, what
do you dream about for all the years you're paying for it?
Sonja Caywood ©2014