There are strange gaps on my indulg-o-meter.
I will think nothing of dropping 30 bucks on a subscription to Salon, a publication I can read at no cost to me whatsoever, save the annoyance of a little progressive-cause ad clutter, yet I doubt I have paid full price for a book since 1995.
I squeeze the last bit out of the toothpaste, the dish soap, the computers (the pbook is coming up on 3 years old; the G5, almost 4), but it is rare I will deny myself an item from the grocery store. The expensive grocery store.
My own mother, who learned from her own mother how to squeeze a dime from a nickel, once got up in my grill about not being able to let go of my old clothes. And one of her daughters (that would be my sister), expressed deep concern upon loading me into the car to head out to my SXSWi adventure, an adventure that cost me upwards of 2 large, all told, upon viewing the back of my Gap-by-way-of-thrift-store shirt. It had holes, she said. I’ll be wearing a sweater, I replied.
Even I was shocked when I took it off in Austin and finally saw the extent of the shredding. But did I pitch it? No, it would make perfectly good rags! When I’m done wearing it around the house as a work shirt.
So it is big, big news when I spend almost $400 on a vacuum cleaner. This vacuum cleaner. I got it with a coupon ($60 off!), paid zero sales tax, and only $2.95 for shipping. That’s still $382.94…for a vacuum cleaner!
But here’s the thing: I have been wanting a good vacuum cleaner for years. Roughly ten years, or half of the time that I’ve owned the last vacuum cleaner, which never worked all that well to begin with. And I’ve wanted a Dyson for roughly three years, or about all of the time that The BF has had his. His second. Because the wife took the first one (and the good trash can, and the kickass couch) to the new home. She’s no dummy, The BF’s Wife. I vacuum for fun at The BF’s, because goddammit, that vacuum makes it fun.
Vacuuming. Fun. You heard me.
Today, I got the call from my mailbox people that the vacuum was here. I was as giddy as a schoolgirl, as excited as Navin Johnson when the new phone book was there. I dropped everything and fetched that puppy home. And vacuumed all the easy stuff that my old vacuum had such a rough time of. The grubby baseboards. The skeevy strip where my file cabs meet the carpet. The ceiling fans. Oh! the ceiling fans!
And then I put my new baby in a place of honor in the living room. He is not going into the closet for the foreseeable future. He makes my heart sing, does he.
Stop being an asshole. Stop cheaping out. Or, if you’re a spendthrift, charging your children’s future into the poorhouse, maybe stop that. I’m not you; I don’t which voodoo you do and/or don’t do all that well.
We all have our weird, inbred habits. Mine, for some reason, is denying myself the tools that might make my life not only easier and cleaner, but safer.
Well, okay, maybe not safer. But far, far more enjoyable.
Provided I’m not being overly greedy? That I’m keeping a lid on it? That I’m living a relatively modest existence, helping out where I can, not getting all Marie Antoinette on people’s asses?
Stopping is okay by me.
xxx
c
Image by Saima via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.
Congratulations! Does that new Dyson have the power to suck up that dishrag of a shirt you were wearing?
Heh…a few years ago, I used part of my tax return to buy myself a Dyson! It felt like an indulgence, but definitely worth. Unfortunately, it did not cure my hatred of vacuuming. I actually got a Roomba last year. Darn thing doesn’t suck enough, unfortunately. But the Dyson never let me down.
I’m “frugal” in similar ways. I used to check the prices very, very carefully at the grocery store (how my mom shopped). Now, not so much. It’s really better that way–food is an area where a little indulgence is a good thing.
Yippie for expensive vacuum cleaners! I did the same thing and it’s amazing how well I treat it. Friends borrow it and I’m always telling them to treat it with the respect that it deserves. Something about having a powerful shiny instrument with which to do a chore that might otherwise truly annoy me just makes everything better. Suck up something for me sister!
e. – Oh, we had a tussle over that one, the Dyson and I. Which makes me realize: I really must come up with a name for him.
Jamy – Those Roombas always looked like a Ralph Kramden venture to me. Besides, there’s something weird about having a pool sweep for the house.
RE: frugality, I just read in THE WEEK (my favorite magazine) that frugality is in again. So we are very hip, you and I, albeit most likely in a broken-clock kinda way.
Tara – I don’t know about loaning him out. I mean, I’m sure I’ll get over it once he gets the equivalent of his first “ding” in a parking lot and the newness is gone. But right now? Gives me the willies, it does.
Although I have nothing pertinent to say about vacuum cleaners — my Sears Kenmore seems adequate for my admittedly haphazard standards — I wanted to send some positive reinforcement along to you fine folks here in the comments section.
I have purchased a copy of “The War of Art” based on your recommendations. I will, of course, procrastinate profusely before actually reading it. Wouldn’t want to make this too easy.
So, thanks to you all for helping me in my own personal suck-stopping quest. I will now proceed to not vacuum, work or read. But I will be thinking about all three.
– Joe Rhodes (aka Earl Kabong)
Colleen, your replies to comments are so entertaining, I think they’d make great fortune cookie inserts.
Joe Rhodes – sorry to bother you here on the Communicatrix’ board, but I can’t make your joebo site load and you’re rather funny yourself. I wanted to ask you two questions (pardon us, ladies and gentlemen, but his site refused to load twice):
a) when you read “Art of War” will you please share the synopsized highlights? “Read Art of War” is on my (many of our?) list right after “stop procrastinating.”
b) is your pen name taken from “El Kabong” — the great alter ego in cartoons of our/my yout’? I can imagine your mishearing it at age 7 and forever after thinking about Earl’s swell cape…
Thanks Colleen, for collecting such interesting people to your posts~!
Earl – Oh, I have no doubt that at some point, some smartass Consumer Reports person is going to prove that Dyson vacuum cleaners not only do not clean better but create massive head tumors. I don’t care. At least my head will ‘splode in style.
I look forward to your report on War of Art.
GirlPie – I think Joe Rhodes just fell hard for you. For a few reasons.
Girlpie — Finally! You have no idea how long I’ve waited for someone to understand that I am, indeed, El Kabong’s less successful brother.
Once I get around to “War of Art,” I’ll be glad to share my thoughts/summaries. Of course, I have lots of other things to do before that. I’ve decided to vacuum the cat. With the Kenmore.
Kabong!
Everyone’s got their thing. I’ll be damned if I spend full price on new books if the used one is *right there* for less. At Whole Foods no way will I spend $10 for a small basket of cherries, or $80 on flip flops from their lifestyle aisle.
Tools however, are a different matter. I *must* have a MacBookPro with maxed out RAM and hard drive. The same goes for my Dyson.
I also love shoes way more than is normal for guys. I’ve got a $$$ pair of Bruno Magli boots that I polish after every other wearing. It’s not about how much you spend, it’s about how much value you get, and I fully intend to be buried in those boots.
Earl – See? I knew you’d be over the moon.
Nathan – Value For Your Dollarâ„¢–my watchwords since 1975.
Colleen — that may be your slogan (since you were 5, right!) but you deliver “Watchwords of Value” so I’m thinking it’s a delightful case of bliss-lexia — you see what you want to see when it makes you happy. And what’s so wrong with happy?
(You know this Earl person? Consider posting his funny Art of War summary-to-come and pull out charming life lessons along the way for us mortals…)
Earl — I know a playwright whose first work was titled VACUUMING THE CAT — no lie. Put down the feline and please go check your site.
GirlPie – 14, actually–old enough to know better. But who’s counting!? Certainly not me; maths were never my strong suit.
I know Earl only as you do: Kabong of mystery, and great writing power. I would be happy to post Le Kebong et la communicatrice in response, but I do hope it will actually be a review of Pressfield’s War of Art and not Lao Tzu’s Art of War. I’ve had quite enough of that nonsense.
I love it, Colleen, that you celebrate not sucking by buying something that really sucks, and is supposed to.
I am such a good, careful shopper. I read through every issue of Consumer Reports and subscribe to their site. Today, I spent quite a bit of time looking at prepaid phone plans, trying to decipher which was the best choice. I know how to find the best prices for everything. But then I look at how much I pay in rent; by comparison, whatever I’m saving through all my efforts is often minor, and I wonder if it’s worth the time. I’m telling myself to lighten up and find the middle ground.
I, too, have always been indulgent in buying good food. My rule is that I can spend it but I can’t waste it, so I try to manage inventories well. I also balance it out buying a lot of great produce at farmers markets, and hardly ever eating out.
I’m big on value, too. My last Powerbook lasted 5.5 years (I still have it and use it for scanning), but when it came time to buy a more modern computer, I got the 17″ MacBook Pro I really wanted, and don’t regret it at all. I use it constantly, so it’s worth it.
I know!!! Isn’t it great, how this timed out?!!
I finally decided that what I did like about comparison shopping was the game. Yes, it’s great that the results are savings, but I’m investing time that I could be investing in something else. So I have no illusions about it (although I know for a fact my rent is a damned sight cheaper than yours, my friend.)
For me, it’s about doing stuff that aligns with my true self. It’s always been comforting to me to balance out indulgence with meticulous care, so I look at this more as a way for me to be in touch with me than some genius life plan for doing things on the cheap.
And hey, when I upgrade my computers? It’s going to be to one glorious Pbook. Which will reside alongside of my 12YO tv.
OMG! We just bought an $800, yes you read that right, $800 Miele last summer because we all have allergies and couldn’t take the “dust in, dust out” of normal vacuum cleaners. And you know what? We love it. I think we must be in some sort of weird demographic to take such joy in such mundane things. Can I also confess my love for our new expensive dishwasher? As a parent, not having to wash endless dishes is a dream come true. I mean it. Also, it apparently uses so little water that we have to use powder detergent, and less of it, because liquid detergent takes too much water to dissolve. Now that’s a purchase that pays for itself!
800!!!!! Thank you—now I feel like I got a bargain!
I don’t think we’re that alone, though. Even at $800/pop, they gotta be selling a fair amount of vacuum cleaners to make it worth their while.