There's a Hole in my Pocket

As someone who essentially holds two jobs and takes classes, I regard my weekends as sacred territory reserved for sleeping, debauching, and maybe--if I feel so inclined--catching up on the writing and research that I should have been doing all week but that my day job likely kept me from even thinking about.

Of course, the freedom of the weekend is usually sufficiently intoxicating so as to render me even less productive than I am during the week. Today was one of those days, though the morning and an hour or two of the afternoon were occupied by a school obligation. I had promised myself that I would dutifully return home and begin one of the 20-page papers that is currently looming over me (both of which are due within 3 weeks). Instead, however, I felt a hole beginning to form in my pocket, and I did what is a rare activity for me: I treated myself a new toy.

Enter the Shadow, T-Mobile's answer to the i-Phone. It's sleek, is equipped with the latest version of Windows, has a VGA display, mp3 player, 2 megapixel digital camera, true web capability, e-mail, personal concierge, short-order chef, instant girlfriend, accountant, attorney, low-gas mileage sport utility vehicle, jet-powered personal watercraft, and--oh yes--good ol' fashioned phone-to-phone calling.

And I have no idea how to use it.

I am about to turn 25, yet I have the technological acumen of a 70-year-old, but every once in awhile, I decide that it might work to my advantage to at least be able to flash some of the electronic bling that my contemporaries rely upon so heavily. Once I got an i-Pod, I never bought a CD again, and so perhaps this will provide me with a similar revelation.

It still feels funny making a purchase like this. Sure, I'm not blowing the farm, but less than three years ago, I was a destitute college student living off of loans, credit cards, the generosity of others, and the $100/week that my work-study job provided.

As a result, I still have trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that it's o.k. to be nice to myself once in awhile, especially now that I'm debt-free with a healthy income and more savings than I reasonably need at this point in my life (this is due in large part to the activities of my past, which I will address in a later post).

I haven't bought a new wardrobe in years. I sold my car to pay off my credit cards. I take public transportation almost everywhere I go, and I almost always either cook or eat cheaply at work.

It's not that I'm cheap--I live in a nice apartment in an expensive part of town, and I probably take more cabs and frequent more expensive bars than I should on the weekends, but that which is material has never much interested me.

Give me a plane ticket and a few weeks to wander, and I am a happy camper.

Otherwise, I don't see much point in buying new clothes if my old ones still fit, nor do I need a fancy car when my city has one of the best public transportation systems in the country. And why would I spend $80 on a "designer" mens haircut when I can get a better one for $20 at my local family barber shop?

Still, when I picked up this new gadget today and started to use it, I did not experience buyer's remorse, but instead, a kind of relief, and even pride in ownership. A couple of weeks ago, I bought my mom an I-Pod for her birthday (SHHHhhhh! Don't tell her! Her birthday isn't for a few weeks yet...), and I felt that same sense of satisfaction that I did in buying my Shadow. It's nice to be able to treat myself to something like this and not have to feel guilty about it the next morning. It's even nicer to treat others.

The other night, for the second time in two weeks, I gave a bartender a $20 tip on a $10 tab. Why? Well, why not? She needs it, and I have it to spare. Seems like as good a reason as any.

I've never really talked this candidly about money or my use of it, but the need to make ends meet is a part of each and every one of our lives. Perhaps, when I become well-established and am truly in a position to give back, my frugality will translate into great fortune for some as-yet nameless beneficiary. After all, I've been to enough of the third world to realize that somebody out there needs it, and if I have it, why not make it available?

Most importantly, I'd like to know that I can be the best possible father--the best possible provider and example--to the children that my future wife and I will someday raise. That prospect alone is enough motivation to live modestly, though happily, and to give generously when at all possible.

For now, I will continue to enjoy the part of growing up that is earning an honest day's wage for an honest day's work, and once in a great while, I might just reward myself for my success, modest though it may be.

I will continue to take public transportation. If I buy a new wardrobe, it had better last me another five years, and you can bet that, next time the opportunity presents itself, the extra few dollars that I have burning a hole in my pocket will probably find a home in the hands of a struggling waiter or bartender (or invested in things that make the people I care about happy), not in the coffers of a five-star eatery or a trendy salon.

This reminds me of a story from my travels, but I will leave that for my next post...