Poverty Sucks

My sister Ahndi had a poster that said that when we were kids. On it was a picture of a guy all decked out in a three-piece suit and top hat, one foot propped up on the fender of his Rolls Royce, raising a glass of champagne.

Brilliant!

...And true. Poverty sucks. A lot.

Let me begin this by explaining that we have a company up in Boston, Coine Language School, that has been valued at $10 million. We assessed its value about eighteen months ago, when we were considering selling stock in order to grow more quickly. We backed away, at least for the time being, but that's another story. The bottom line is, between the income we receive from our school in Boston and our speaking fees when we travel (my fee is five figures per day), Jane and I are not in actual danger of being poor in the foreseeable future.

I say that because, in the real-life experiment I'm about to share, I don't want to mislead you into thinking that we're "walking the talk" all the way. No matter our temporary situation, in the backs of our minds we are both well aware that we can bail ourselves out at any moment.

Psychologically, the fact that one has no resources to fall back on, no safety net, can be crippling. We are subjecting ourselves to a tight budget, as you're about to read, but we have not taken away our financial parachute.

Having said all that.... Jane and I decided a few months ago that we were spoiled by our lifestyle, and that we ran the risk of losing empathy with the people we are most dedicated to helping.

Yes, we were struggling just five years ago, and true, our companies have had their ups and downs all along - that's business, after all. But in the last two or three years we haven't really denied ourselves anything. I wanted a red European convertible, so I bought one. When we felt like going to dinner, we would, and never worried about the bill. 40 hours of daytime babysitting per week plus occasional nights, maid service once or twice a week, a full-time personal assistant, a book keeper for our personal income, a "you want it, you buy it" policy toward shopping, expensive clothes... we were living the affluent lifestyle of the upper middle class.

So we stopped. We've put ourselves on a budget that is, well, stifling. We don't go out to eat anymore. The last time we did was for Jane's birthday a month ago. We ate at Bice on Fifth Avenue. All we had was one appetizer, two salads, and two glasses of wine. It was still about $1 million, and it pained us to pay that bill - even though my Mom was paying half as her present to Jane. Our cousins were babysitting, or else it never would have happened.

We've gone from two babysitters to one babysitter to haven't had a sitter in weeks now. Master's swim team or Rotary? - which is basically a choice between health or business. I haven't made that kind of choice in years. Jane's bargain shopping for all of our groceries, and so each week she visits four or more stores in order to piece together the cheapest options, and we're going without a lot of our favorite food.

We have basic basic cable, and only have it at all because it's cheaper to bundle phone, Internet (a business necessity), and cable than to just have two. We've changed our cell phone calling plan, another luxury we never thought twice about. Jane and I are sharing her car, the Honda CRV, because (a) my Saab needs a repair which we haven't budgeted right now, and (b) its "turbo sport" mechanics sure use an awful lot of gas. At $3.10 or more per gallon, we had to draw the line. My sister lives across the county; because of the gas, we're visiting her less.

No more Starbucks. Library, not book store - and if you knew how much I read...! We canceled Netflicks, and have stopped our visits to Blockbuster, too. Neither of us has bought one article of clothing since we started this project; not even a pair of socks at Marshall's. Random gifts for the girls when we're out and about? Not anymore. Ice cream? Publix brand, not Ben & Jerry's at the shop.

There are dozens of activities we wanted to sign Ayla and Maryn up for this summer. Instead, their big outing is the beach, which is free. Once we're there, no more hot dogs at the concession stand; Jane packs a snack now. No more Coppertone sport; No-Ad all the way - and if we go later in the day, we won't have to reapply. If we shower there, our water bill will be lower. If we take the carriage instead of drive, we'll save even more gas money.

As much as we tighten our belts, we find it needs more tightening if we're to stick to the original income we committed ourselves to.

Being poor is hard. But like I said, for us it's an exercise - a really unpleasant exercise, but we know it will end. What if you've never known anything else? What if no one in your family has, either? What if none of your friends, or neighbors, or teachers have ever been more than lower-middle class, and even that is something special in your circle?

We don't suggest that you give all your money to charity and live like a pauper. That's a little hard-core, even for us. But when was the last time you really had to scrimp and save? When did you last deny yourself something you consider basic, like your gym membership, or coffee out, or HBO?

Just food for thought.