Readers,
I’ve hinted at it a couple times in the past, but here’s the paddler’s honest truth:
I am a tightwad. Or a minimalist. You choose.
It does not thrill me to spend money on things which I do not find essential. (Granted, ‘essential’ means something different to everyone.)
Is there such a thing as a reverse hoarder?
Anyone who’s visited my home knows that I have little attachment to possessions. Furniture is scant and I don’t bother with draperies and bric-a-brac much. I’ve grudgingly added a few things to the household in the past year or so, mostly to increase visitor’s comfort, as it all seems a bit unnecessary to me. There still isn’t a television, and I cannot foresee a future that involves my owning one. I did, however, break down and purchase an iced tea maker so that my repeated attempts at passively burning down the house by forgetting that I had water boiling downstairs would come to an end. Usually though, spending is kept to a minimum and most frivolous fits of spend-thriftiness happen at the supermarket.
But this year will be the Year of the Moderately-Priced Purchase. Sigh. It’s difficult for me to discuss, but I know you’ll understand. (insert tongue into cheek here)
It took nearly one calendar year for me to pony up the dough to invest in the member site for danakanespanks.com, and I’m still choking a bit on the residual costs associated with it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m terribly excited and happy, but part of me wants to grab my wallet and run screaming in the opposite direction.
And just this week, I purchased a much-needed and long-postponed upgraded camcorder for video shoots. I knew it needed to be done, so I put on my Consumer Face and just did it. It was painful but fast, like yanking off a bandaid. Ouch.
It’s old news that my ancient Mac has been a faithful, if hypochondriacal, friend. Later this year it will give over it’s main functions to a new computer and while I’ll be tickled with the superfast processor and better overall performance, it’s not nostalgia which keeps me clicking away at this very tired machine. It’s ticket shock. I’ve dragged this old Mac wheezing and whirring through a few years more than even Mr. Jobs intended, and am certain that the old girl has another six months or so left in her.
It’s also been several years since I owned or needed a car of my own. I know that this sounds somewhat unbelievable to most of the car-driving public, but it is supremely possible to function, thrive, and be happy – without ever having to visit a gas station. The majority of the world’s population live within….oh, there I go lecturing again. Besides, I’ve been thinking of buying an old clunker, despite my better judgment, in order to more easily access the beautiful mountains, abundant state parks, and that place down the street that sells really good tacos. The problem is that I’ve been thinking about it for about a year now, and will likely continue to think about it well into the future. When it comes right down to it, I’m always inclined to slap the salesperson – hard – when they tell me the price. It’s a lovely, healthy stroll to any number of easily-accessible points of necessity, and a cheap taxi ride to the airport a couple times a month. Decisions, decisions.
I really do completely understand the compulsion to spend. If it weren’t for the restraint of gods-long-forgotten I would have standing reservations at no less than thirteen hidden island resorts in the steamiest latitudes imaginable. My ‘places I’ve been’ map would look like a pincushion and the wall behind it would eventually crumble from the weight of the brightly-colored reminders.
Instead, I spend most of the year saving (and salivating) for the Chosen Destination. This year’s place to lie around and do nothing is about as removed as one can be while still having access to hot water and ice cubes, and saving my pennies for it makes it even more special.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that, at the end of the day, life is expensive. Whether you spend it on toys or bonds or solitude, you’re gonna spend it. So in light of that realization I’ve decided to loosen up and do what I have to do this year.
But next year? I’m not spending a dime.
– Dana
The Moderately-priced Purchase Blues : Totally unrelated to spanking
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
I envy the fact that you don’t need a car. Wish we were the same, unfortunately it is not something we can do without, we can’t even go without 3 at this point. It is a pain when you have to replace things you love. Been there done that… Best wishes. Isabella
I’m currently using a 5 year old laptop given to me by my aunt. This is so outdated-it freezes during my job searches, or ANY searches for that matter at least twice a day. Shutting it off-NOT restarting is the best way to get it in user friendly status. PLUS about 15 uses of creative swearing from MOI.
Foolish spending???? Heart is my all time fave band. Last year I had front row seats for about $40. This year, they’re coming and playing a much larger venue and the premium seats are $130 each. The low cost deal of $15 for lawn seats was something I decided to buy VERY unhappily.
THEN 2 days later I was NOT satisfied when I saw seats available 18 rows back from the stage were still available, I said “Screw it.” I charged over $500 to my card. Considering the temptation to pay $300 per ticket for an opportunity to meet the band, I say I saved some $$$$.
I’m a tightwad, too. How about a $25 spanking?
I tend to keep things forever. The pile of really useful things that don’t work any more and have either been replaced or done without is getting bigger and bigger. I have a real problem throwing away something that I paid $1,000 for 20 years ago, got much more than that out of it, and now it’s broken, there are no parts available to repair it, and nobody but me to fix it. I’m a classic hoarder. The only thing that keeps my home from being totally overrun with stuff is that, like you, it’s really hard for me to buy stuff.
I’ve been living in the same house for 33 years and the curtains that were on the windows when I moved in are still up. So’s the furniture that I moved from my former house and the new sofa I bought when I moved in to fill up the larger living room. The drapes on the large dining room window eventually disintegrated from too much sun and have been replaced by about $25 worth of “matchstick bamboo” shades. The TV set is from the early 1980s and I have an antenna on the roof. I buy CDs from people I feel that it’s important to support – maybe a dozen a year. I listen to great radio over the Internet.
All of my computers are old, but I have about six of them that are all in use for different purposes. When I needed a computer that runs Windows 7 to test some software, I bought a 4 year old Pentium 4 at the used computer store for $20. Can I recycle your old Mac? I’ve never had one.
There’s an ongoing occasional series on the Marketplace radio program about how people define wealth. It covers the gambit from feeding the family to taking world cruises, but the one that most hit home to me was “When you need to travel, just book a flight and get it done without worrying if you could wait a few days and get a cheaper fare.” Guess who spent about three weeks checking air fares twice daily to get a good deal on a flight to Las Vegas for the NAB show? But diligence made it possible.
Don’t become a spendthrift, but treat yourself every now and then. I buy really good ice cream.
You and John would relate! He too is a minimalist and hates buying “stuff.” His house has no pictures on the wall and the bare minimum of furniture (and what’s there is really old). Less stuff to move, he says!
I think I’m somewhere in the middle — not a spendthrift by any means, but not a minimalist either. I choose my splurges and treats very, very carefully, but I do have them. I spend a ridiculous amount to get my hair cut and colored, for example.