My grandmother made the best lemon meringue pie you ever had. And when she cracked her eggs, she'd always dip her finger in the shells to get out every last drop of white. She was a child of The Depression, her mother died giving birth to her ninth child and my grandmother -- the eldest of the nine -- had to take her mother's place at sixteen. Whatever food my great-grandfather could buy on his country mailman's wages had to be stretched to feed a house full of hungry, squalling mouths.
We're all picking up our own versions of the eggshell ritual these days. Maybe you circle past the valet until you find a spot on the street, maybe you just don't go out to eat much anymore, or maybe you go to a matinee instead of Macy's on Sunday afternoons. Even if you're doing fine, you've probably started making your coffee at home, and you've finally found the courage to say, "tap" when the waiter asks, "sparkling or flat?"
True, we will always be the creators of the Hail Mary pass, and this is still the Republic of Risk and Reward. But when did we begin to cripple ourselves with the idea that "rich" is a stage of life as inevitable as adolescence or old age, and with the attitude that no amount of debt or deception can keep us from getting our due? When were we consumed by our own consumption? We've always heard that rich and happy aren't the same thing, but its been a while since we've been forced to prove it.
The last lemon meringue pie my grandmother made was in the cramped kitchen of her assisted living apartment. When she got into that scraping out the eggshells business, I gave her a typically impatient 20-year-old's glance and offered her an extra egg. "No, this is the best part!" she said. But she also said the best part of a chicken is the bony back and the best part of being old was getting to work till she was 75.
I'm beginning to see that using every drop of egg white because every drop counts makes the best pie; eating the bony back so your kids can have the rest makes that the best piece; and being proud of your job makes working till 75 better than a cushy retirement. I may not ever be so frugal with eggs, and I wouldn't dare eat a chicken back, but I do hope she's right about that last thing.
We're all in this together, and the choices we'll have to make won't end at tap water and street parking. But in every new choice is a chance to make sure that it won't be the scope of our problems that our grandchildren remember us by, but the wisdom of our solutions.
Vacations involving airfare, hotels and car rentals have been replaced with long car camping trips where I spend only $20 a day.
A nice work wardrobe is no longer necessary, and now I only wear comfy clothes from the thrift store.
Hair cuts at salons has given way to hair cuts by friends.
Going out to eat is few and far between (except burrito stands, and an occasional drive-through fast food!), but appreciate it so much more. It is a "special event" that I share with friends.
I grow my own vegetables now, and interact with a greater community of "urban farmers."
I have time for yoga, meditation, long walks, bike rides, visits with friends, cooking wholesome foods, etc. Life with without "riches" can be quite an excellent life!
Just get out of debt first!
I think something else you forgot to mention. It's not just self-sacrifice to get the last drop out of the egg, or to eat the bony back, or even to work as long as possible. It's just the right thing to do. For yourself! Getting that last drop out of the egg reminds oyu of how precious an egg is. Eating the bony back makes you work for the meat and lets you eat more slowly and maybe cut back on the meat. And really, it's jsut healthier to keep busy.
You do things just because they are the right thing to do. That was something the depression era had a feel for we've lost.
By the way, my Aunt Tony would come to visit me in graduate school and I would make homemade noodles for her and my uncle, and she used to cut the amount of eggs we'd need by filling half an egg shell with water. That got every last drop out of the egg and also ensured we could cut the number of eggs we needed. And I couldn't even tell---homemade noodles were just as good!
In fact, piles of stuff (or even money) don't necessarily make you happy, especially in the long run. This fact has become a hard lesson--didn't--and doesn't--need to be! Live within your means, and look out beyond that pile of stuff.
People fall into one of two categories- they either get their self-worth from externals such as cars, beautiful homes, the right mate, right job, and many other externals that signal to the world that they are a Success.
Or people get their values from internals (Artists fall into this category) such as -relationships, right livelihood-creating the book of poems, finishing that series of Paintings or sculptures, gardening , volunteer work or any other service, and belonging and thriving within community .
Wealth is not "bad" or "wrong" but over-consumption is.However IMHO, even if we are thriving financially it is egregious to over-spend simply because we "can" especially now.
This generation, the generation of Barack Obama, must begin to make the harder choices, the less self-centered choices, if we hope to leave our children and grandchildren with a semblance of the world we grew up in. And teaching succeeding generations the value of sacrifice and hard work isn't a bad thing either.
But you've got to pick up your own little shovel and dig deep to find what you really seek.
They pulled their resources together and had a closer knit community of neighbours than we have now.
I am using the challenge of recession to see what I can cut down on and yet still enjoy. Now when I have the latte from the coffee shop I really appreciate it as its only once a day. I also treat myself once a week to eating out and its still a cheaper restaurant than I used to go to. I have learned how rich I am without all the things that I thought I wanted but in fact do not need.
Every situation can be turned into a silver lining.
This column, borne out of real people coping courageously in tough times, is a welcome antidote to the happiness crap HuffPo has been pushing for some time now.
Yes, there are those who are chronically unhappy because they are truly mentally ill. They deserve both our compassion and our support.
But the rest of us - the "worried well" as Freud put it - don't need parasites disguised as helpers shilling their coaching services, books, seminars and therapy in order for us to find happiness.
It's right there in front of our nose...same as it ever was.
I have been waiting for a long time for someone to make this observation--I agree whole-heartedly.
In the past couple years, I find something as simple as shopping for clothes has become overwhelming. These days, a shop's entire January layout is crunched into a back sale corner to make way for all of February's *NEW* things. The emphasis is on hyper-consumption and new, newer, newest. Many times I think to myself, "When does it end?"
When I entered college in 2003, all of a sudden, everywhere I looked, people had iPods. It seems quaint now, but I wondered, what's so wrong with a CD player? Today, though, I still get mad that Apple comes out with a new-and-improved iPod every year. Throw away the old version, get the new one. It's not good for sustainability. But I digress.
I wish I could experience my twenties in the time before "rich" became a stage of life like my parents did in the '70s, heading to a park with friends, popping open beers and having laughs. Now it seems a lot of people in my generation don't understand that happiness doesn't have to be purchased. Life isn't all about Blackberrys and plasma TVs and fancy restaurants.