Spending Freeze

I am spending money like a sailor on shore leave. Yesterday I handed over seven months rent to the land lady (she is WAY more than that but that is another story altogether), then I got a bill for that ridiculous parking ticket in Sacramento back in May (took them six months to read and subsequently toss my case), and THEN I am upgrading some of the equipment in the PowerBarn and in so doing will pay cash for a new Wahoo Snap trainer (where attachments set me back another $50 in addition to its $600 tag), and PerfPro software ($199), so I really need to execute the ‘return to the ship’ protocol and:

Make more (somehow) while
curtailing all further spending.

This usually works unless the unexpected pops or emergencies arise. In case you haven’t noticed, unexpected emergencies can sink ships. No matter the armament or firepower of said ship. I read a while back that over a third of all Americans could not navigate the mine-filled waters of a $500 medical emergency. I speak as one of the sailors pulled from those shark infested, blood and diesel drenched, icy cold black seas.

But I survived. Lost everything, but still here. It is so hard these days. People getting by on fixed incomes facing the surge of runaway capitalism and out-of-control inflation. On my ‘splurge day’ last week I actually paid $20 for a six-pack and a loaf of bread. It cost me half a hundred to fill my tank with low-octane unleaded. Part of the reason why I made the parenthetical statement about my wonderful land lady is that heating and wi-fi are included in my rent. The unexpected case of beer, vegan soba, soy sausages a few other household necessities she dropped off yesterday all create an atmosphere of gratitude and family that is heartwarming and reassuring. There remains a few people out there that care about things other than the bottom line. I am so grateful that I (as a result of that ship wreck?) stumbled upon this situation. I think I can, I think I should, contribute more to the effort than simply house sitting their dog and cats and taking the trash out to the drop spot every Wednesday. It’s like thanking the rescue team that pulled you out of the water seconds before the jaws.

I’ll tweak Cat Stevens’ beautiful Father and Son lyric to suit my equally poignant circumstance by juxtaposing the happy for broke and softly sing, I am broke but I’m happy. I think this is an important point. In the same way that peace and gratitude calms the turbulent oceans of our nature to decay and die, that acceptance and forgiveness calm the same waters sailed by those whose yachts sail unerringly past.

I am old but I’m happy.
I am broke but I’m happy.

The common theme of course is on the happy. You can be, as I, old and happy. I can be, as you, broke and happy. A concept lost on millions of kids that happen to find themselves, by whatever twists of circumstance, young and comfortable.

This situation is artfully addressed by Trae Crowder in this short video. Young, old, rich or poor we need to address a woeful imbalance in our world. There is smoke on the water folks, bridges are burning. Sharks circle our rafts in the sea of bloodied innocents.

We must rescue our democracy from the greedy and violent hands of the pirates who stole it from us. Look at it this way: If they (the spineless and silent republicans complicit in the crimes of their leadership) had to cheat to win an election, what will they cheat on next? Social Security and Medicare?

That means your money and your life. Please wake to this fact kids. Or, I suppose you can assume the financial responsibilities for the health and care your parents. Or vote blue. It is that easy.

Like a freeze on spending.