Greed is Good - unless, of course, you are poor

I am at the end of my two year contract for my cell phone, which means I can get a new phone.  In spite of my very vocal dislike of the things, I have to admit I thought about upgrading to something with a camera (I anticipate the arrival of two tiny beings that will require photographing)… and maybe eventual possibility of getting email on a limited basis.  There are times when I think that would have been useful in the last year… and can see some scenarios in the coming year where such a device could be a savvy move.  Then I realize how much the device costs – even with my ‘discount.’  And just to have the phone, whether I go online or not, requires paying for data… which is the cost of a tank of gas.  I need that tank of gas much more than I need to pay for an accessory of rude behavior.

I could probably afford both the tank of gas and data package.  I just don’t value the latter enough to take that money away from my morning coffee… or an impulsive shopping trip at Wegman’s.  Those are still pretty frivolous expenses in the big picture… but their purchase makes me feel a little better about my sometimes stressful but not really that bad in the grand scheme of things middle class life.   Maybe we can call it my retail therapy.  Or maybe we can call it irresponsible, which is what it is.  I just am supposedly responsible because I have the funds to pay the bills at the end of the month.

But there was a time in my life when I didn’t.  There could be again.  Who knows?  Life has the tendency to pull the rug out from beneath us.  I’m in a good place now… but I know a lot of people who are still lying on the floor, trying to get a grasp of something to pull themselves up.  I feel their pain, having been a similar style shoe… and because… it’s only human to feel empathy for someone struggling to make sense of their life’s fiscal value.

It’s actually pretty damn depressing.  We live in a universe full of options for distraction from depression.  Alcohol.  Drugs.  Food.  And… that thing I mentioned before… retail therapy.  None of those things are responsible.  But for that intoxicating moment of who the fuck cares when one can pretend she doesn’t care and not be depressed about the limitations of a bank account.  I have a lot of presently useless VHS tapes that served that purpose fifteen years ago.  It was foolish, indulgent… and a perfect waste of money.

But it was my money, right?  So… the only harm done was to myself.  I wasn’t taking money from anyone and abusing their trust by spending it on a chick flick at Walmart.  Besides, spending money is the American thing to do.  That’s what Bush told us when the nation mourned a great tragedy.  Go out and buy stuff.  It will make you feel better. 

Unless you get aid from the government.  Then retail therapy is not a socially acceptable option.  Nor is alcohol.  Or drugs.  And the food you buy better be on the same plane as Ramen noodles.  Of course, if you are on government aid, you are probably breaking all those rules.  Because why else would anyone go on food stamps other than to extort the system and screw the rest of us who avoid looking at one another when sitting at a local foodie restaurant, wearing our $400 pair of jeans whilst texting on our iPhone?  Obviously, these people need a better sense of priority when it comes to money.

Especially because the money they use to buy milk, eggs, and maybe even a real vegetable so their children have enough food in a stomach to conjure limited focus through the school day comes out of tax money.  Tax money that could have been used to upgrade to another iPhone or buy another purse if it didn’t come out of a paycheck and go arbitrarily to some single mother trying to juggle work and school and children.  Where are our priorities?  Honestly.

I know a lot of people who have strong opinions about entitlements and the abuses I just mocked in the previous paragraphs.  I know their complaints are legitimate… but not any more legitimate than the users of the system for whom I argue.  People who need their government aid, to get through a difficult situation.  A situation that humiliates and degrades… and leads to that depression with which we all lull ourselves with insignificant crap.

Is it right?  Um.  No.  I learned that.  I like to think that other people learn, too.  Some don’t have to.  Because they are still standing on the rug, without any humiliation of gravity.  Some tax me and my income through something I can’t escape buying... creating enough profits to indulge retail therapy on a large scale 24/7. 

Maybe it isn’t right for the poor who are scraping by to avoid reality by buying what they can’t afford.  It isn’t right they have such a degrading reality they need to escape.  But maybe it’s all relative… because the more money one has, well apparently, the more retail therapy one requires.  Which leads me to wonder… who is actually happy?