I'm all right Jack, keep your hands off of my stack.
"Anyone who hates money is either a hippie or a liar" - slackmistress
- - -
I don't deal very well with people who react without trying to understand. Though, sometimes I don't think I deal very well with people. The friends I've got seem to think otherwise. But then again...
Recently this has taken form in the topic of Money. I have a friend who always flies off the cuff whenever the topic comes up. It's through this friend that I've noticed that I bring up money, the value of things, and whatnot more frequently than even I'd like to. It just comes out that way.
Let me explain.
I grew up poor. My mother cut my hair well into my teens. New sneakers or new clothes or whatever all the other little rich kids who went to school were always a dream to me. School clothes came from the Salvation Army. Hipsters might enjoy it now, but when you're an insecure little minority nerd-boy in the homogeneity that is an all Irish-Italian town, you'd rather fit in than stick out. Never mind that all I wanted were friends and instead had to run home from school to avoid being beaten up (or hanging back to help the teacher clean up because that's what I love to do.
Every car I've ever owned - with the exception of the one I earned with my own money - was a shitty, half-broken down hand-me-down.
When I was twenty, still living with my parents, I saved up for and bought my first guitar, a Martin guitar. Was it some cheap generic brand? No. It was a very nice, great sounding guitar. I came home and proudly showed my father what I'd earned. I'd earned it. I bought it so my brother, who was just beginning to get good at guitar, and I could play together.
Do you know what I heard instead of, "Great! Now you can play with your brother instead of taking turns with him?" My father scowled at me and said, "Well, if you can afford that, you can afford rent." and we got into such an argument that I nearly moved out.
My entire youth was like this. Not once was I able to have what I wanted, and instead I compromised with something else. Something different. Something not what I wanted.
Am I materialistic? Probably. I would surmise it might have actually made me materialistic. I always coveted and never got.
Well, finally in my life I'm an adult. I'm finally at a point in my adult life where my own income exceeds my needs. And this is with a New York City cost of living. I'm finally at a point where I can purchase a few personal luxuries (iPhone, Digital Camera, guitar, nice clothes, new glasses) and still put away money for the future. And give money to my financially struggling brother (not loan, but give.) And give an iPod to a friend in need.
See, that's the thing. As many things as I might buy for myself, I'm just as equally generous with my money. Ask anyone who knows me how often I'll pick up the tab for drinks or dinner. Ask them if I'll go out of my way to help a friend in need. Financially or otherwise.
Well, maybe you understand me a little better, even if you disagree. Why am I defending myself? And anyone who thinks I'm the type to brag apparently doesn't know me as well as they thought they had. But I guess because I'd hope someone would ask and try and understand rather than react. Oh well. My friends accept me for who I am, or they aren't my friends.
Thanks for asking, though. I appreciate it!
- - -
I don't deal very well with people who react without trying to understand. Though, sometimes I don't think I deal very well with people. The friends I've got seem to think otherwise. But then again...
Recently this has taken form in the topic of Money. I have a friend who always flies off the cuff whenever the topic comes up. It's through this friend that I've noticed that I bring up money, the value of things, and whatnot more frequently than even I'd like to. It just comes out that way.
Let me explain.
I grew up poor. My mother cut my hair well into my teens. New sneakers or new clothes or whatever all the other little rich kids who went to school were always a dream to me. School clothes came from the Salvation Army. Hipsters might enjoy it now, but when you're an insecure little minority nerd-boy in the homogeneity that is an all Irish-Italian town, you'd rather fit in than stick out. Never mind that all I wanted were friends and instead had to run home from school to avoid being beaten up (or hanging back to help the teacher clean up because that's what I love to do.
Every car I've ever owned - with the exception of the one I earned with my own money - was a shitty, half-broken down hand-me-down.
When I was twenty, still living with my parents, I saved up for and bought my first guitar, a Martin guitar. Was it some cheap generic brand? No. It was a very nice, great sounding guitar. I came home and proudly showed my father what I'd earned. I'd earned it. I bought it so my brother, who was just beginning to get good at guitar, and I could play together.
Do you know what I heard instead of, "Great! Now you can play with your brother instead of taking turns with him?" My father scowled at me and said, "Well, if you can afford that, you can afford rent." and we got into such an argument that I nearly moved out.
My entire youth was like this. Not once was I able to have what I wanted, and instead I compromised with something else. Something different. Something not what I wanted.
Am I materialistic? Probably. I would surmise it might have actually made me materialistic. I always coveted and never got.
Well, finally in my life I'm an adult. I'm finally at a point in my adult life where my own income exceeds my needs. And this is with a New York City cost of living. I'm finally at a point where I can purchase a few personal luxuries (iPhone, Digital Camera, guitar, nice clothes, new glasses) and still put away money for the future. And give money to my financially struggling brother (not loan, but give.) And give an iPod to a friend in need.
See, that's the thing. As many things as I might buy for myself, I'm just as equally generous with my money. Ask anyone who knows me how often I'll pick up the tab for drinks or dinner. Ask them if I'll go out of my way to help a friend in need. Financially or otherwise.
Well, maybe you understand me a little better, even if you disagree. Why am I defending myself? And anyone who thinks I'm the type to brag apparently doesn't know me as well as they thought they had. But I guess because I'd hope someone would ask and try and understand rather than react. Oh well. My friends accept me for who I am, or they aren't my friends.
Thanks for asking, though. I appreciate it!