Newport 2: The Money Post

So we came home. We left affordable and moved to expensive. The opposite of those people in those articles. The stupidest financial move we could make.

In Red State Capital City Suburb, we were at the top of the economic heap. Sure there were people with a lot more money than us, people with much bigger houses than ours, but we could do pretty much whatever we wanted, given our income and our desires, and we never felt ourselves at any loss. (Really I should not be saying "we" here, because S doesn't have these issues. So when I am saying "we," know that I mean the family economic unit, not the family emotional unit, and that the emotions expressed herein are all mine.)

I was about to say that in Red State Capital City, wealth was not visible, but as I wrote that, I realized it is not true at all. Wealth in Red State Capital City was quite visible, largely in the form of McMansions and Hummers, neither of which interested me at all. Which is to say, the signifiers of wealth did not signify for me, and therefore I felt fully satisfied with my own economic state.

Then we moved.

Until I quit my job, our income in East Coast Big City was actually about 25% more than it was in Red State. To put it a bit more precisely: we had a good income in Red State, a better income in East Coast Big City, and both incomes were well above all relevant medians, means, etc. We had enough money there, we have enough money here (or rather, we had enough when I had a job, and we will have enough again when I get a new job, and clearly we have enough that I was able to quit my job) (I just want to be absolutely clear that this is about feelings, not money, except that it's also a little bit about money, but enough disclaiming already--like I said yesterday, if you want to take this as privileged whining, you probably should).

Now that we live in East Coast Big City, I am constantly aware of the money we don't have. We don't have the money to send our kids to private school (not that we want to, but the option would be nice) (let's not even talk about how we'll pay for college). We don't have the money to live in a house in Town (let's not even talk about taxes). We don't have the money to drive the car I would drive if I had the money or to buy the beautiful things we see in stores. And the thing is, all around us are people who have that money and more.

In Red State, I would read the New York Times and wonder who on earth would buy a $700 stroller. Now I see that stroller every day, not so much in Town, thank god, where I think I've only seen one, but whenever I go to East Coast Big City or City or Other City. I listen to the parents at ballet complaining about the number of private schools they're applying to. In a kind of ordinary nice restaurant in Newport there were Botox faces and fur coats and designer purses.

And the thing is, a lot of these people are not so different from us. Similar backgrounds. Similar educations. And sometimes this just makes me totally insane. Because I appreciate so much, really I do, everything that we have. I appreciate that, with a lot of help from our family, we were able to buy a condo in Town. I appreciate that I could quit my job. I appreciate that we can go to the doctor whenever we need to. I appreciate that we have lots of nice things and can go out to dinner and really, still, even in East Coast Big City, do so much of what we want to do.

But there's a piece of me that wants to buy a beautiful new bed like the one I saw the other day in the window of a furniture store on Fancy Shopping Street. And replace all my dingy bras and fraying towels at one fell swoop, and I'm not talking shopping spree at Target. I'd like to remodel our attic to the specifications of my dreams. Buy organic and hardcover whenever I want. And not worry every single minute about whether I'm going to find a job that makes enough money.

This is where S gets sensible. S says we could have had all that, but we made different choices. And he's right.

But I tell you, it boggles my mind how much money some people around here have. And I hate how much I want some of it.

[Newport, of course, is the ultimate metonym for money, not just that old Astor and Vanderbilt money, but real people today who have yachts and summer houses and wear Lilly Pulitzer and drive BMW SUVs.]

[I really should just delete this post.]