Debby Does…

Here I sit, typing away at my blog on my MacBook Air, using wifi, drinking bottled iced tea, listening to music on Spotify, and occasionally checking my phone. My doggies are asleep on their beds (one of which is memory foam) and both the dishwasher and washing machine are chugging away. As I look around the room, I see antibacterial wipes, dog waste bags, dog dental wipes, a mini tens unit to help with muscle pain, an oven with a setting just for chicken nuggets, a Bluetooth speaker, and a charging station.

Wow.

What if I were in 1974, instead of 2024? What would I see in my line of vision? A basic kitchen in fashionable coppertone, including a dishwasher that we pulled across to the sink. A rotary dial phone, television (with channels 3, 6, 10, 12, 17, 29, and 48), typewriter, a hi-fi stereo console complete the view. And, I was perfectly happy and perfectly ignorant of what I might be missing.

After posing the question about what we “need” now versus when we were kids or in our parents’ day, I started to realize how much this stuff costs.

Google storage, phone data, the phone itself, computer, the related apps, the wifi, streaming subscriptions, dog beds and accessories, printers and ink, clothing subscriptions, Spotify, Sirius, food delivery, dining out, Amazon, a Sleep Number bed, house cleaning, organic food, and so much more I haven’t even considered. We’ve just absorbed these “needs” and their related expenses.

In 1992, just after Jim and I started dating, I went to the Bloomington, Indiana Cellular One store to purchase a phone for my car. I was driving back and forth from Indiana to New Jersey a lot for pageant appearances, and my mom wanted me to have a phone for safety and emergencies. This thing was the height of technological sophistication. I remember the salesperson going through all of its hi-tech features, explaining the big magnetic antenna that would go on the top of my car, warning me about roaming charges, and helping me through the service agreement. It was the first thing that Jim ever co-signed for me and that bag phone served me well. I think it finally met its end in 2021 when we moved.

I don’t think that I knew I needed that phone. Maybe some might say that I didn’t. I can tell you that I used it when I was scared while traveling, feeling sleepy at the wheel, and to keep my mom from having an apoplectic fit of worry about me driving 732 miles alone. If a rest area was sketchy, I called home from the car, instead of a public payphone. As Christmas 1992 approached and I found myself on the shoulder of I-465 in Indianapolis with a flat tire, I let my mom know. I also let her know when that same tire died in Buckeye Lake, Ohio. I spent that night in a hotel in Washington, Pennsylvania, where I used a credit card that I had gotten as a college student. I didn’t know I needed that either.

“I need that.”

We say this all the time. Need, wish, want, crave, desire, require.

I feel as though it’s so easy to add things to what we “need” and so hard to eliminate them; though sometimes necessity, frugality, and circumstances beyond our control make us tighten our belts and look at our extravagances differently. Needs are actually pretty small. The other stuff, well, that’s a different story.

I won’t lie. I treat myself regularly. I almost wrote that I treat myself more than I should, but I didn’t like the word “should” in this case. Who decides what I should do and shouldn’t? I do. And my bank balance. That is, in fact, solely my business; though, I love a coupon, a sale, a deal, or a bargain.

When we were first married, we had a $100 rule. If one of us wanted to purchase something that cost $100 or more, we had to talk about it. We still do this, though the number is a little higher these days. We’re both pretty frugal, though sometimes we agree to splurge. We always decide if whatever it is will bring great pleasure, make life easier, or put us in a position to do for others. We have never, in 32 years, had a fight over money, even when there was very little of it. That doesn’t make us special or smart; it just makes us thankful that cool heads prevail in those times.

After we moved this spring, Jim decided to treat me to the MLB network for this season. He knew that the sounds of the local broadcast team would make watching my beloved Phillies feel like being home. That’s a summertime sound I’ve known since I was a wee girl, hearing my mom’s transistor radio at night, with Harry Kalas on the call. With that expense, Jim managed to find a way to make me feel like this new place was home and that I was with my mom. That might not be a need, but it truly was a wish.

I don’t know exactly what I’m saying here, but I do think I might want to pay some attention to how many extra bills and expenses I am accumulating. I mean, I did give up the daily Wawa visit for a fountain soda and snicky snack a few years back. I kicked Rent the Runway and StitchFix to the curb, so I can definitely find a few more areas to trim the budget.

At the same time, I cannot get behind denying people things or making them feel guilty just because we didn’t have them. I mean, for the most part, we’ve all adapted to the indoor toilet, instead of the outhouse, and certainly don’t begrudge those who never had to use an outdoor privy. If your life can be easier because of [insert newfangled item here], then enjoy it! It seems to me that being happy for people’s easier lives is what we should be aiming for as humans. Why should your research paper process be as arduous as mine? It’s okay if you’ve never heard of White Out or typewriter correction tape. I’m happy for you to skip that brutal chapter.

There is no moral to this post. I just found myself thinking about all the things that fill my life today; things that would have boggled the minds of my mom and grandparents. Things that I never knew I “needed” or would sneak into my daily existence.

Gotta run. The Ring doorbell is telling me something.