What would your future-you have to say to you?
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
What would your future-you have to say to you?
There are two options to choose from.
First, my disclaimer: I’m not destitute.
However, I’m trying to spend Christmas acting like I am a pauper.
Why, with small children and beautiful-and-more-than-deserving wife, would I want to deprive my family of a bountiful holiday?
Before we get into the reasons for being a horrible grinch bent on depriving my children of their god-given right to rampant consumerism, let’s look at the Philosophy of Destitution.
The primary reason to pull back and tone it down is basic frugality. Excessive anything is not frugal. I am training my children–and for that matter, my wife and my self–in the finer arts of personal responsibility and frugality. Accumulating debt for a fleeting holiday is insane. If we can’t afford to buy it, we certainly can’t afford to give it. Anything else would be setting a bad example and children learn best by example.
Another piece of the Philosophy of Destitution(when I read this word, I hear a deep, booming voice in my head, like a 30s radio superhero voiceover) is “green”. I consider myself a conservationalist rather than an environmentalist, so don’t read too much into that color. I try to be responsible, instead of destructive and I try to avoid being wasteful. Toys that won’t be played with are wasteful. A garbage can full of packaging for those same toys costs money. It is much cheaper to avoid the landfill here.
Back to “Why”. Why would I be willing to deprive my family?
“Honey, here on national television, in front of a live studio audience, I’ve got a secret I’d like to share. You’re not our child’s mother. I’ve been sleeping with the milkman. And the goat. Your mom is the star of my new adult website. With the goat. And the milkman. I’ve got three other families, in three other cities. I lost the house to my gambling addiction. Those sores? Herpesyphiligonoritis. I got it from the foreign exchange student we hosted before I moved her to Dubuque and married her. The goat gave her away. The milkman cried. Oh, and I wore your panties to the Illinois Nazi reunion. I know how much you hate Illinois Nazis. But I still love you. And your sister. Especially your sister. She does that thing with her tongue….”
Why would anyone go on national television to share things like that?
More interesting: why would anybody stay on stage after hearing that?
Stay tuned.
I have this friend. He bought a couple of cars. He’s got some issues with money, partially revolving around a need to keep his assets below a certain threshold. So he put the cars in his girlfriend’s name. I know, it’s slightly crooked, but that makes the story more fun.
They broke up.
Recently, she called him to say she was suing him for the cars. She wanted them. She wanted to hurt him. She was mean. Somehow that turned into them agreeing to settle the case on Judge Joe Brown, on national television.
My friend spoke with the show’s producer, then last week, he was flown to California and put up in a hotel for a couple of days. When he arrived at the TV studio, he was informed that it wasn’t Judge Joe Brown, but a new show that will start airing in the fall called, The Test. According to CBS, The Test “is a one-hour conflict resolution talk show that will use lie detector and DNA tests to settle relationship and paternity disputes among the guests.” Coincidentally, CBS also owns Judge Joe Brown.
My friend got on stage with Dr. Phil’s son, Jay McGraw, and was accused of cheating on his girlfriend and stealing her identity. Lie detectors. Yelling. Accusations.
Why did he stay?
He wasn’t given his return plane ticket until they were done filming.
When he was done, they handed him a voucher for cab fare and the itinerary for his return flight. Until then, he had no other way to get home.
That’s why people stay on stage. It’s probably also why none of those shows ever have people with money of their own; they can find their own way home in a pinch.
Interesting side note: The show paid $200 and booked the cheapest possible return flight, with a 6 hour layover.
As some of you have noticed, the link to subscribe by email has changed. While you do still have the option to subscribe to the rss feed through Feedburner, I’m no longer providing the link or recommending it. What I have in its place is an actual email list.
Yes, you can now subscribe to Live Real, Now by email, without having to go through Feedburner. That means you can get all of the updates in your email, for free! This is magic. This magic gives me another option to offer contests and free stuff.
There are two lists to choose from.
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Please, take this chance to subscribe to the magic.
Have you ever watched someone go nuts after they have kids?
I mean, even after the I-haven’t-slept-more-than-20-minutes-in-a-row-for-3-months stage of babydom?
These people dedicate their lives to their kids. They sacrifice all of their hopes and dreams and focus on the brats. They can’t have a date night because little Sally might get lonely without mommy and daddy. Can’t have a hobby because Johnny’s on the traveling soccer team. Can’t get laid because it’s a family bed and that’s kind of creepy when the kids are right there.
Everything for the kids.
As they grow, it gets worse. You spend more time helping with homework and less time talking to your wife. More time playing chauffeur, less time playing doctor.
It’s a nasty cycle, and it comes with an abrupt stop.
What happens when school’s out? Little Johnny graduates with a dual degree in Practical Philosophy and Experimental Art History, gets a job at the local Stab-and-Grab, gets married, and starts a family.
When that happens, parents suddenly become “extended family”. The kid has a life of his own and probably doesn’t need his clothes picked out in the morning, a ride to soccer practice, or someone to write his name in his underwear.
This is planned. It is–in theory–the reason we raise our kids. It shouldn’t be a surprise, even if it is a bit of a shock.
Can you survive it? Can your marriage?
If you’ve spent the last 20 years of your life pretending you are nothing but a system for delivering food, rides, and gadgets for your kids, what are you going to do with your time when they are busy pretending they are that system for their kids? If you’ve never developed a hobby, are you going to go extra-special, bat-**** crazy now?
For 20 years, have all of your conversations been about your kids? Have all of your outings been birthday parties? Will you have anything to say to your spouse when the kids are gone?
Your kids are temporary.
They are important. They are your genetic legacy and the people who will choose your nursing home. Don’t neglect them, but you do have to hold something back. Make time for yourself. Make time for your husband or your wife. Or both, if you can make that work.
When your kids are working 90 hour weeks building a new career, or hustling 4 kids to 10 after-school activities, your life doesn’t get to revolve around them.
All you’ve got is yourself and your wife. If she’s not feeling secure about your feelings now, when she loses the distraction of puke in her hair, that insecurity will blossom in unpleasant ways. If you can’t find a conversation that doesn’t involve the kids now, the silence will be blistering when you eventually lose that crutch.
If you don’t have a hobby, get one.
If you don’t have a relationship with your wife, get one. Take her on a date tonight. Your kids are temporary, your marriage shouldn’t be. This is the rest of your life. Make it worthwhile.