Chump Change

You heard the news?
Yes, it’s true.
I appreciate the advice, but I already have a plan.
Sure, $287 million is a lot of money, but it’s just money: I won’t have any trouble spending it.
I’ll do things my way though, and start off slow.
Everybody runs off and buys a half-dozen cars, a new house or two, a boat – stuff like that.
But I’ll start with the things that are really important.
The things that really separate us from the rich.
Like drips.
The first thing I am going to do is have a plumber in to fix the drips.
Where the other half lives – or so I am told, it’s very quiet.
Mostly because they don’t have drips.
A bigger well too.
A sure sign of my middle class status is the well pump coming on, every time someone flushes the toilet.
From now on, whenever anybody ‘goes’, no one will know.
I guess that means more toilets, too.
And showers: I want one of my own – just mine. And I know, from experience, the only way that you have something of your own, is when everyone else has their’s too.
Of course I’ll have to bring the plumbers in when it’s dark, in unmarked vans – which means overtime.
But I can’t risk anyone seeing a plumbing truck in my driveway for a month or so. That’s a sure sign that I won the lottery. And if anyone guesses, I’ll need another bathroom too, for guests.
So okay – what’s that come to? About $50,000?
Peanuts!
Next the house. Not a new house, an improved house.
I’ve still got the 10x12 deck that came with the house. It would be nice to have a new deck, a bit bigger, with some built in-amenities. Nothing too fancy, just a little more room to maneuver. In fact, I hate grass, so I think I’ll just surround the entire house with deck, maybe a few big flower pots, one of those all-season fireplaces, and a lap pool. No, not a lap pool, one of those tide pools, where you can practice surfing or being swept out to sea.
Nothing fancy, just a nice deck. About $75K.
Drop in the bucket!
And you know something – now that I can afford it, I want to invite those poor raccoons back in. Put a few doggie doors in both sides of the attic, and build them a little play area. Maybe some close circuit infra-red cameras so we can watch them at night
I’m sorry. Mary’s giving me a dirty look, and she’s right. I got carried away there. Forget the raccoons, at least for now.
What about a room of my own – or better yet, a little cabin out back, where I can work undisturbed (or not work, undisturbed). Nothing fancy, just a room, with a toilet and shower – nice sound system, satellite dish.
I can buy one of those pre-built garden shacks, and have it dressed up a bit: a little landscaping, a few shrubs for privacy, a nice stone walk. Then again, maybe it would be nice if it could be used by guests too: relatives we don’t like but can’t turn away.
Figure on about $100,000, give or take.
Chump change!
Mary’s signaling me from the couch, and she’s right again.
Before I go putting in a little shack in the backyard, I might want to address some of the other shortcomings of our present abode.
It would be nice to have a doorbell that works. Now we can afford to splurge on chimes that play ‘Satisfaction’.
We’re going to need a new roof, too. Now we can have any color we want.
Shingles. And not just the ones that need replacing – all of them!
A garage, where we can hide the cars that usually end up on blocks in the backyard.
Security system, to keep out the relatives.
A new refrigerator.
That’s another sign of real money – a fancy refrigerator. Rich folk always have oversized refrigerators, filled with fresh produce, a bottle or two of champagne, and space.
You know somebody is doing alright, when you look in their refrigerator and there’s space.
I want one of those oversized, silver ones, too big for the kitchen. I want one that dispenses water, and beer, and whipped cream.
And paint!
No, not a refrigerator that dispenses paint, just paint!
No, not just paint: an actual painter – a pro to go over all the places where I made a mess of things.
And new carpet too.
Not the durable kind that stands up to wear and tear – the fuzzy, thick, colorful kind that folks that really can’t afford it worry about staining.
Better yet, oriental rugs that you really shouldn’t walk on, and hardwood floors made from rare trees that you’re not supposed to cut down: a lot more not to worry about.
And a boat.
Not in the house.
And not to actually put in the water either: just for show. Something to stick alongside the garage, and annoy the neighbors. (Another place to stash the relatives, too!)
Sorry Mary.
But we haven’t even spent a million dollars.
At this rate we’ll never run out of money.
We could spend $2 million a year, for fifty years, and still have more money than most of our neighbors.
Okay, so maybe I will buy a car, or two.
I just want a Karman Ghia: probably can find a rebuilt one for $20,000.
Mary will probably get that BMW SUV.
I’ll get Bobby another one of those 79 Volvos that he used to drive, and just keep getting it fixed when it breaks down. Or maybe we can get him his own mechanic, so he doesn’t have to bug us every time he has a little accident.
Patrick won’t be driving for another 8 years, so he can have a horse.
The relatives?
We’ll get them all AAA Plus.
And we’ll get them other stuff, too. Or better yet, we’ll let them have our old stuff, every year. The old refrigerator. The old BMW. The old TV, and so on.
With our money it is almost an obligation to replace everything every year.
But I don’t want to go crazy.
I just want to smooth things out a bit.
Quiet things down.
Make things smell better.
Sleep a little later.
$287,000,000 should do the trick.