We often tend to think of luxury in terms of being waited on or having others do work we find irksome. I’ll think sometimes of how nice it would be to have someone in to clean this house so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it and could just get on with my writing. I know two excellent cleaning women whom I like and respect very much and who could probably use the work. We can afford to pay them. That’s not the issue. But every time I get close to deciding to hire them I pull back. Cleaning house is excellent exercise; no one can sit at a computer for too long without needing to get up and do something else. (Well, no one except my son, whose computer-sitting-tolerance seems to be boundless.) Plus, as we all know if we’ve ever hired anyone to do something, handing the job over to an employee includes the dreaded idea of management. What do you want him to do? How do you want it done? How much time should it take? How much will you pay?Sometimes having someone else do the work only adds to your own time spent. Think of having someone else color your hair or do your nails. Unfortunately, you can’t screw your head or hands off and go on your merry way while the work gets done. No, you have to drive there, and then sit there, while you’re waited on, and then drive back home. It all takes about three times what you’d spend if you just did it yourself. (I speak as one who colored her hair with Nice & Easy for about 12 years; I mixed two colors to match as closely as possible my pre-gray color and kept up with it pretty well. If I’d had to go in and spend that time and money I’d probably have ended up going around like a woman I once worked with whose hair always seemed to be half white and half auburn. Hey, it ain’t worth it if everyone can see your roots!) I now save even the small amount of time and money I spent back then by leaving my hair alone. It took me a full year to gradually cut down on the time I left the colorant on so that there was no definite line of demarcation between dyed and undyed; I was determined not to go around with the piebald look while everything grew out. Really, the whole process was kind of a pain; if I’d known then what I know now I’d have never done that first application. (For a fascinating look at one woman’s experience with going from dyed to gray and all the ways our society judges women’s looks, read the excellent book Going Gray: What I Learned About Beauty, Sex, Work, Motherhood, Authenticity, and Everything Else That Really Matters by Anne Kreamer. She also has a website.) I’ve always said that the classiest women I see around have their hair its natural color, but perhaps that’s just a personal prejudice.
Anyway, I’m reminded of a story that I heard on the radio about a newly-wealthy family; I think the father may have made out like a bandit in the dot.com era. It was clear that they had felt in some way obligated to live like “rich people,” since that’s what they were. So they bought a huge house on a big estate and hired staff. Since there were employees to do the upkeep on the property, they felt awkward ever doing anything themselves. (Does this remind anyone of a certain popular TV show that’s airing its last season next year?) One day there was a small problem that needed to be dealt with. I can’t remember what it was, but I think it had something to do with the lighting needing to be changed. (Something a little more demanding than a lightbulb.) So, the father said, he had to contact the housekeeper, who contacted the maintenance man, who . . . it was a long, drawn-out process. At the end the housekeeper got back to the man. Was he satisfied with the work that had been done? Was there anything else? I can still hear the bewilderment in the man’s voice as he described the experience: “All this fuss over one small issue.” It would have been so much simpler and easier to just do it himself. But he’d gotten himself into this ridiculous situation where his riches were subtracting from his freedom and pleasure, where he’d lost a fair amount of independence.
And, as I’m writing this, I am irresistibly reminded of Dave Ramsey’s oft-quoted phrase: “If you will live like no one else, later you can live like no one else.” He uses it as a mantra to spur his readers and listeners on: live frugally now, as no one else around you is doing, and later on you can live a life of luxury that is far beyond anything that those same people can attain. So, live simply today so that you can live luxuriously tomorrow. Sounds good, doesn’t it? But—hate to say it—it’s not. Living simply and frugally, appreciating what you have, maintaining your independence and objectivity, all of those activities are worthwhile in and of themselves. You don’t live a simple life just so that later on you can live a complicated life. Where’s the sense in that? If you want to be well and truly horrified, check out this picture of Dave Ramsey’s new house As far as I’ve been able to tell, it’s the real deal. Can you imagine living in such a monstrosity? You’d get lost going from the master bedroom separate suite to the high-octane professional kitchen, and when you finally got there you wouldn’t be allowed to make your own cup of coffee. Sheesh. I just don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll just go do some housework to restore my equanimity.