I'm retired and my income is my monthly Social Security check. Barbara works somewhat less than full time (full time=40 hours a week) at the Seattle Public Library (but enough hours so she qualifies for retirement bennies for her and health insurance for both of us). We have a minuscule amount of money set aside in savings accounts and mutual funds, but if we didn't have income coming in, it wouldn't last up a short hill. We both write (and enjoy writing immensely), and we've both had things published, but any pay we've received for our writing so far has been minimal (but hope springs eternal). Adding Barbara's and my annual incomes and comparing the total with the statistics I've heard and read, I learn that we are below the poverty line. Well below.
But—
We live in a large apartment in a nice old building on Seattle's Capitol Hill (one of the nicer areas of the city) that has been a co-op since the late 1940s. It has historical status; there's a brass plaque out front. Barbara and I were lucky (I prefer to say "smart") to buy in here when we did twenty-seven years ago. Our share is long since paid off, and we have no mortgage. Our monthly co-op dues and maintenance fee is about one-sixth to one-eight of what we'd have to pay for a similar apartment if we were renting (and if we could even find one that isn't already occupied by someone who's making mega-bucks at Microsoft). That helps a lot.
We drive a 1999 Toyota Corolla, which has a little over 13,000 miles on the clock and is in practically brand new condition. As of a month or two ago, we own it free and clear.
Barbara looks for bargains. She hits the specials at grocery stores (shops a lot at Trader Joe's) and she shops judiciously at second-hand clothing stores. She always looks good. Some people, it seems, buy a $60.00 blouse, pay for it with one of their ten or twelve credit cards, wear it once, decide they don't like it, and toss it; Barbara comes along and buys it for $5.00 cash. She picked up a batch of fairly heavy plaid shirt-jackets for me (Land's End or Eddie Bauer's, I think) for a ridiculously small amount of money. Someone had bought them, wore them maybe once or twice, then sent them to the second hand store. They were in pristine condition. They're really comfortable, they look nice, and I wear them a lot, especially in cooler weather.
By the way, we have one (1) credit card (actually, one for each of us, but the same number, same account). We use it carefully and pay it off, in full, every month, thereby avoiding interest charges.
We have a 13" television (we also get cable—expanded basic) and a VCR. We watch television selectively (Nova, Masterpiece Theatre, Mystery, NOW with Bill Moyers, a couple of others: I've lately been watching Cold Case on CBS on Sundays—and we both watch Red Green). We don't go to movies much: we either rent videos or, mostly, Barbara brings them home from the library. We buy a few. I have the complete LOTR. She has the BBC production of Jane Eyre with Timothy Dalton as Rochester (actually, we've got a whole bookshelf full of movies we've bought or been given, and some stuff I've taped off TV). I'm thinking about getting a DVD player. We have a new 400 watt "bookshelf" mini-system: a Sony MHC-GX450 (AM/FM tuner, CD player with a 3 CD tray, dual tape decks, and a sub-woofer)—about $200—that could blow the walls out if we cranked the volume up. Nearby is a fairly huge pile of CDs (folk, classical, jazz, miscellaneous) that we've accumulated over time, not to mention about nine feet of vinyl records (I'm not kidding—by actual measurment) and a functioning turntable.
Then there are the books. Boy, are there books! Between our combine accumulations, we have so many full bookshelves lining our walls that, if the building's walls were to fall out, we probably wouldn't know it. Thousands of books on just about any subject you could name. They're not just for looks; we're both voracious readers. And with Barbara being a librarian, they're well organized. We can find what we're looking for (at least she can). Plus, I play the guitar, Barbara plays piano and organ, and both of us sing. Our entertainment needs are well taken care of.
Speaking of entertaining, although we're not really wild-eyed party animals. we frequently have friends in (Barbara is a super cook), and fairly often we go to various parties and such, including songfests at Bob (Deckman) Nelson's and Alice Lanczos's. Right now, Barbara's cousin and her husband from Lincoln, Nebraska are staying with us for a week or two, sleeping on our fold-out couch (quite comfortable, actually).
I could go on, but you get the idea. We feel that we live a rich, full life. Lots of options. And we are debt-free. Let me say that again:we are debt-free.
We know of people (and we actually know some people) who are making $60,000, $70,000, $80,000 a year, but who are so far up to their bummies in debt that they don't know how they're ever going to get out, and they're practically getting ulcers over it. They have huge thirty-year mortgages on their houses or condos, they sweat to meet the next payments on his new SUV and her new mini-van, and their eight credit cards are maxed out. They're both working extra hours to try to make ends met, and they're so worried about finances that they can't really enjoy watching their brand-new 52" digital flat-panel high-definition television.
I don't get it. As Americans, where did Barbara and I go wrong!??