Status Symbols

The Bruce and I have been half-heartedly engaged in the search for a newer vehicle for the better part of this year. Things haven't fallen into place for us for a few reasons. First- we haven't had a car payment for about 5 years, and I think we both have lost the stomach for this kind of a monthly obligation. Second- While the logical choice for us at this stage in life is a mini-van, I did make a solemn pact in junior high with my sister that we would NEVER drive a van. How does one reconcile what the head knows (Honda Odyssey) with what the heart wants (BMW 7-series)? Lastly, and most importantly- while both of our cars are getting on in years and miles, there really is nothing wrong with either one of them other than the fact that they aren't new. The purchase of a new car is completely unnecessary.

The situation has really had me thinking about status symbols- posessions that supposedly give one some sort of insight to the person who owns them. Know what I've decided? What a bunch of bulls***, that's what I've decided. If there's anything this economic crisis has taught me, it's that people live in giant houses but can't afford them; that people drive sweet cars but haven't made payments on them in 2 months; that people wear 2-carat diamonds that are really CZ's. These things, in many cases, actually signify that those who own them believe that appearances matter more than reality, that they fail to manage their finances, and that they feel entitled to items they can't afford. If you were to evaluate me according to these standards, you'd find a person who lives in a house that needs a coat of paint, drives a 10-year old 4-runner, and wears a plain old wedding band. If this is how you choose to evaluate, it's pretty clear that I don't measure up.

I do own some things that tell a hell of lot more about me though.

*The most valuable thing in my house is my piano, in both financial and sentimental terms. It belonged to my mother. I learned to play piano on it. It sounds fantastic. On any given day, for every minute I spend in my car, I probably spend 5 at the keys of my piano. We have a relationship. The second most expensive thing in my house was the washer and dryer. They are some pretty sweet front loaders. Anyone with a family can take a stab at how much time I spend in front of them. We spent our money on the things we spend the most time with. (Bruce could say the same about his blasted flat-screen I guess, but it still cost less than the washer.)

*Two and a half years ago, I was out on a walk pushing a 6 week old Maggie in the stroller. A construction worker hollered out, "You have a jiggly ass!" In my defense- For pete's sake, I was pushing a baby so small it looked like my stroller only had blankets in it. It should have been obvious to anyone that I had just had a baby. In his defense- I DID have a jiggly ass. Back to in my defense- What kind of a person screams out something like that to a woman pushing a stroller? A total tool. But I decided I was going to do something about it. I started "running," meaning walking for a little while then running for a minute. My first 5k took me almost 45 minutes. And then I joined the gym and got myself a partner who was willing to meet me in the wee hours of the morning. And I ran and ran. And ran. My last 5k took me 40% less time than my first. I own a hydration belt, because I run distances so long that I need to carry water. I get new shoes every time I log 500 miles on them, and I'm on my 4th pair this year. Those two posessions might tell you a little something about me, eh? And as a pleasant side benefit, the old behind is not so jiggly anymore.

*My house and car do tell something about me. My house feels like home. We have memories here; good friends close by; room for loved ones to visit. I have a list of projects a mile long I want (Bruce) to accomplish, but we easily afford the mortgage and there's no hair-pulling when it comes time to pay the bills. Look at my house and know that a happy person lives in it. Frankly, my current 4-runner replaced a 4-runner that was even older (Unfortunately for us, we sold the old one to our bishop, therefore I prayed more for it to continue running well than I did when I actually OWNED it.). But, that lack of a car payment has afforded me the freedom to stay home with my kids and to work only because I feel like it, and not because I owe the bank money on an asset that does nothing but sit in my garage and depreciate. Look at my car and know that a person who has the freedom to make choices drives it.

I'm not trying to be self-righteous here- if you have the disposable income, by all means get yourself an Escalade. But join me in the belief that it doesn't represent anything but money spent. Do that, and I'll quit assuming that everyone who drives a Hummer is a moron.