So let me see if I understand this: We're supposed to go shopping for the good of the country. We don't have a president standing on the rubble of the American economy saying as much this time, but that's the message again. If, this holiday season, we don't buy electronics we don't need, if we don't buy new cars instead of fixing old ones, then this whole thing is going to fall apart, and we'll be in for a much longer, colder recessionary winter than already feared.
That's what I'm getting from Washington and the Democrats' push for a new stimulus package of as much as $100 billion to consumers.
That's what we've come to - pinning hopes for a recovery on shopping.
Look, I know this is nothing new. I know this is the American reality. But you'll have to indulge me. I am still catching up. I grew up in an age before consumer spending was considered a patriotic duty, and I come from a family that only bought stuff it could afford and, in the main, only stuff we needed to get by. I realize that's old-school thinking and that there has been a whole magnificent age of consumer credit and conspicuous consumption since then.
It's just that the whole idea of this consumer-dominated culture, with its incessant spending, gives me a bad feeling for the long term. Like the soaring house values of just a few years ago, it has never felt like something we could sustain. Instead of just buying imported shoes all the time, I think Americans should get together and open a shoe factory once in a while. I'm a person who suffers from that kind of thinking.
So I admit to being delusional, and sentimental.
But let me ask my fellow baby boomers a question: Does the current state of the economy - the housing collapse, the credit crunch, the drop in retail spending, the rise in unemployment - convince you that our parents were right, after all? I mean, even a smidgen?
Does it make you wish you'd paid more attention when they were talking about money?
You remember our parents - the ones who didn't have much to begin with or, if they did, still practiced a kind of frugality-born-in-hard-times that went out the door about three decades ago. You remember our parents and their parents: They saved money. They didn't buy stuff they didn't need. They got by with one car and one house. They lived close to where they worked and took the subway or bus if they had to - or even if they didn't have to - or they car-pooled with a co-worker. They eschewed credit cards or only used one in emergencies. They borrowed money only for a car or house. They had Christmas Club accounts. They practiced cash-and-carry when it came to buying major appliances. Remember all that?
