It just occurred to me that after more than 30 years of working and diligent saving, my family is still not living like we're rich. That's because we have far too much stuff.
We just added to our fleet of TVs, for example, last weekend turning on a new Samsung "smart" TV. The 11-year-old Sony TV that it replaced went into the Samsung box and into the basement, saved for when our younger kids get their first apartments.
Rich people wouldn't do that.
That Sony TV may yet turn out to be a candidate for an electronics recycler, with a new TV like it maybe only $150 at a Best Buy store. But our instincts are that it shouldn't leave the family. Sure we can afford it now, but there are no guarantees. And it's just not smart to get rid of something that works.
There may be other reasons that TV is still here, too, including trying to keep still-useful things out of the waste stream. That almost makes saving it sound virtuous.
Yet we all know that keeping stuff around is the wrong side of that argument these days. To be virtuous now means getting rid of your things, doing your best to "declutter."
The thing is, I've yet to read an essay praising decluttering and the joys of living light from somebody who never had the money to accumulate a lot of nice things in the first place. Of the articles on decluttering I've printed and dropped in a file, the most memorable is probably one that once appeared in the New York Times a few years ago that was written by a wealthy internet entrepreneur.
He described how his big house and turbo Volvo car in Seattle were long gone, along with the 1,900 square-foot loft in lower Manhattan and almost everything else he once owned. "My space is small," he wrote. "My life is big."