John Jay bought a house in a green suburban cul-de-sac after living in utilitarian apartments all the years since he left his parent's home. It was unfair to call John cheap, but his reality was distorted. He felt he spent according to his means, which were anemic but did build over the years. When he had secured a salary he could live more comfortably on he still could not shake the old habits of living frugally. John could not make himself jump at new technology when the old version still filled his needs, he wouldn't be a person gadgets were just licensed to, the upgrading they required, money for the subtlest changes, on such a regular basis, made John feel like his peers were maintaining electronic children or clandestine Best Buy mistresses. He bought well, to suit his needs, with an eye for quality, with the aim of ownership.
That is not to say John Jay was ruled by rationality in all of his decisions. Pleasure for pleasure's sake seemed like a luxury he should guard against. He had not ever allowed himself a vacation, or even been on a plane. He could not stop himself from instantly quantifying all relationships in terms of what responsibility he had to them. It wasn't what he set out to do, but the casual drape of arms around his neck would suddenly carry an alarming weight. A shooting panic found him in the middle of the night, made accusations, and by the morning John would feel like he was living a debtors life again.
The day came when John realized he had saved lots of money but not much of anything else. He found the house and bought it before he could talk himself out of it. He knew he had to force himself to face this new way of living, not saving for the indefinite tomorrow and the horizon you could never find by riding towards it. He was uncomfortable dwelling within the antithesis of his spendthrift past, but he trained himself to think of the walls as retainers against the fear, and the boundaries of sanctuary where he planned the changes of his life. In the first summer there, coming out of the garage, John stopped and held out his hands palm down. He had forgotten the amazing heat thrown off of a black tarred driveway in July. John went directly into the house but soon returned in a bathing suit with a rolled towel. He spread the towel and laid out, feet flat on the burning ground, soaking the black memory of sun through his back, and basking in the rays bouncing all around him like a fat lizard on a rock, just as he had forgotten he loved to do as a child.
That is not to say John Jay was ruled by rationality in all of his decisions. Pleasure for pleasure's sake seemed like a luxury he should guard against. He had not ever allowed himself a vacation, or even been on a plane. He could not stop himself from instantly quantifying all relationships in terms of what responsibility he had to them. It wasn't what he set out to do, but the casual drape of arms around his neck would suddenly carry an alarming weight. A shooting panic found him in the middle of the night, made accusations, and by the morning John would feel like he was living a debtors life again.
The day came when John realized he had saved lots of money but not much of anything else. He found the house and bought it before he could talk himself out of it. He knew he had to force himself to face this new way of living, not saving for the indefinite tomorrow and the horizon you could never find by riding towards it. He was uncomfortable dwelling within the antithesis of his spendthrift past, but he trained himself to think of the walls as retainers against the fear, and the boundaries of sanctuary where he planned the changes of his life. In the first summer there, coming out of the garage, John stopped and held out his hands palm down. He had forgotten the amazing heat thrown off of a black tarred driveway in July. John went directly into the house but soon returned in a bathing suit with a rolled towel. He spread the towel and laid out, feet flat on the burning ground, soaking the black memory of sun through his back, and basking in the rays bouncing all around him like a fat lizard on a rock, just as he had forgotten he loved to do as a child.
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