It goes without saying that we don’t live in a frugal society.
We have high definition televisions and high speed internet connections. We have Abercrombe, 24-hour drive through windows, and we have cell phones that can do everything but wash the dishes.
Stress of your job got you down? When we turn on those televisions we have advertisers paying millions of dollars with the express purpose of wanting us to buy their overpriced, low quality product to make our lives easier. Or perhaps they are offering a self-help program or a pill to make it all better.
What I want to know is what was so bad about life when it was a little tougher?
What was so wrong with a kid sneezing without an overprotective mother immediately reaching for the antibacterial soap or hand sanitizer? What was so wrong with those same kids wearing clothes that their mothers spent hours making by hand instead of the disposable cookie cutter crap that was made for pennies in China before being fluffled and folded on the department store shelf?
I long for the day when people are judged by their actions and not their attire or the car they drive. I hope for the day when children can learn to appreciate - as I did when I was a child - the beauty and miracle of growing something from a seed instead of the flash-crash-boom of some video game their parents are still paying for months after the long-forgotten holiday on which it was given.
I pray for the day when $5.00 a gallon gas isn’t seen as the end of the world, just the end of an era.
I am lucky enough to not live hand-to-mouth anymore but I remember a time when ramen noodles and the change I found in the sofa gave me breakfast and enough gas to get to work. I may not have to eat on $30 a week anymore, but I have tremendous respect for the incredible people who are able to do so and share their stores on the Internet so that others in their position can learn from them.
I may live in a home with advanced technology that is so complicated it would take an MBA to make toast but I remember when I couldn’t even afford the ugly $1.00 toaster at the thrift store in Ocala, Florida. It was 1992 - yeah, I remember it that clearly. Two weeks later on my birthday I received a toaster because that is the only thing I asked for that year.
When I joined the military a few years later I gave that toaster to a woman who was looking longingly at it at a yard sale I had. Her hip was straddled by a toddler and there was a slightly older child tagging along, clutching her mother’s finger. When she picked it up and looked at the price sticker ($.50), she paused slightly before putting it back on the table.
I remembered that pause, and I remembered wanting toast.
I’ll resume the regularly-scheduled frugal living tips tomorrow but for today I really felt the need to just talk from the heart; I didn’t think my readers would mind.
If you will excuse me, I’m going to call tech support now. I want some toast.
