Just finished reading Bink's diaries discussing the article about people who make 250,000 a year having a tough time making ends meet.
Personally, I can't stretch my mind far enough to even imagine ever having that much money. I grew up in blue collar world, back in the time when people didn't buy stuff until they'd saved up enough money to afford it and credit was only used for the really big things, like buying houses and cars. Making do with what you had was the norm back then, even as you worked hard at having more, someday.
When I married, I was thrilled to pieces with the little three room shotgun style house we bought for 3500.00. (that's not a typo). No young couple expected to have a really nice house till they were much older and could afford one. But to me, it was my very own mansion.
We worked hard at bettering our lot in life for our first eight years together, and hit the big time just two years before my husband died. We bought a nearly new three bedroom rambler on two acres and filled it with brand new furniture, parked our shiny new 66 Pontiac GTO in our two car garage, and filled the other parking place with riding lawn mower, snow blower, snowmobiles and wagons and bikes for the kids. Our American Dream had come true!
It all went poof when he died, after a long terminal illness that consumed all we had and left nothing. From there on it was nose to the grindstone: back to school, work full time and a half, and try to make enough to keep a roof over our heads, pay off old medical bills and school debts. Then, just as the kids were almost all raised, a work related back injury came along that took me out of the workforce before I hit 55 yrs of age. So much for those wonderful retirement plans I had and hello, SSDI and eventually Old age Social Security Benefits of around 12 K a year, as my sole income.
Here's where it really gets weird, because never before in my 71 years have I felt richer than I am right now, on 1000.00 per month. I have a large sunny two bedroom apartment I share with a beloved companion in a well run apartment building by a large park with a lake. I can afford to live here because of a partial rent subsidy I quality for because my income is so low and I am over 65. This also qualifies me for a federal/state grant funded program which provides me with medical supplies and equipment not covered by medicare, meals delivered to my door, housekeeping help four hours a week, and free grocery delivery. I also qualify for another partnership program that hooks me up with medical care with providers who settle for just what medicare covers, with no co pays on my part. If I were to ever need personal care assistance, that would also be covered.
Amazing. Just amazing. I have lived long enough to reap the benefits of being REALLY poor! These are services only the really rich can usually afford. But I am fortunate to live in a state where there are services like this for lowest income elderly over age 65. How much longer we will have all of this is, of course, is uncertain. If the GOP ass-wipes who shut down out state get their way, it won't be for long.
So yes, for now I feel quite rich indeed! I'm sure part of this is due to the fact that it's pretty hard to miss what one has never really had. I also know I am fortunate to have been raised in a time when we all learned the meaning of "enough", and where sensible, frugal living was considered a virtue and something to take pride in.
I know it's easy to get really mad at people who have lots of money and don't seem to understand how fortunate they are. Yet it only takes one good hard look at how this materialistic culture starts brainwashing kids from the time they get plopped down in front of the TV to see how programmed we have become.
If the main lessons we teach our kids are how to compete for the biggest share of the pie, or the most blue ribbons, we're teaching them that their worth as human beings depends on what they wear, how they look, what they can accumulate in terms of money, status, and power over others. It's not that hard then to understand why, as adults, for many of them, even having a lot... is just never enough.
I was quite poor for much of my life, and I know how much that can hurt. I know how terrifying it can be to never have enough to go around.
I wonder how awful it must feel to look around and see all that money and goods and shiny things, and then to end up STILL feeling "poor" in painful ways you just don't can't fix no matter how much richer you get?
And how realistic is it to expect that most powerful people born under the bell jar of wealth, who have never known any other world, or any other way to be or to think or to believe, to ever willingly wish to share any of what they have, and are so scared to death of losing?
We all need enough assets to insure our basic survival on this planet. Those who simply cannot support themselves deserve our compassion and our help. But beyond those necessities, every single adult gets to define what being "poor", or being "wealthy" really means, to each of us individually, regardless of what we may have learned from others along the way.
For me, being rich materially means having just enough financial security to meet my basic needs for food, shelter and safety, and access to essential medical care when needed. Everything else I now have I consider delicious luxuries: access to high speed internet that connects me with no end of fascinating people and cultures and endless learning, streaming Netflix that makes every night movie night if I want, an old but faithful van to carry me around, my three wheeled electric scooter I call my Harley, a dear companion, connections with family and friends, a good creative mind, enough good health to still enjoy life..I could go on and on and on counting the gold nuggets in my life. (Not to say that there are still some days that just plain suck. :)
One last note: having been someone who became disabled and unable to work enough to meet my own survival needs long before I finally qualified for SSDI, I truly do feel your fears and remember the desperation and panic I felt then. Same for those who simply cannot find work now, and have no visible means of support. I know that all of the positive thinking and hunting for life's golden nuggets is not going to fix any of this.
For me, the hidden good (as seen in retrospect) in those awful times, was that it forced me into having to ask for and even worse, receive help from others for that while. For a person as fiercely independent as I was, this felt like a fate worse than death and a failure too big to bear. I was the always help-er, not the help-ee. Talk about life lessons that are harder than hell to face, yet are so often necessary, if we're to move on to the next new phase. I needed to experience this part of being human and am a better person for it. Everybody needs somebody sometimes.
Enough rambling for now.
The floor is yours!