The Consumer Machine

Click the image to see beyond the trap of consumerism. "Whoever dies with the most stuff, wins."

Many years before my wife passed away, we lived in Northern Virginia, next to Washington, D.C. Back then, we jumped into the more and more crap life without a blink. For me, I wanted to help enable my wife to have what she desired, so, we both worked ourselves silly. Quick note; During that time there was a tee-shirt being sold that said, "Whoever dies with the most stuff, wins." While we never subscribed to that notion, it did fit the track we were on. Credit was the drug of choice, and we used the hell out of it. Not only did we want all that crap, we wanted the highest credit score we could get, so Olympic spenders we became. We worked hard and we played hard, balls and ovaries to the wall! Top shelf booze, $40 cigars, cruises, and $600 dining table chairs, and we thought we were queen and king of the world.

Then, came the inevitable avalanche of bills. Ah, no problem, “we'll sleep when we're dead”, and, we poured the coal on and worked even harder. There's a lot to the story that I'm leaving out, but when my mother's age dictated my spending more time with her, it brought with it, a seeing of the forest, instead of just the trees. I had to slow down to care for her, and my wife had to change her routines as well. It was then, when we saw the trap we had made, that kept us on, what had then become, platinum hamster's wheels. Combine that with the sickening feeling we both had at the gluttony Christmas had become, and we were done. Yes, in our minds, the party was over, but then came the never-ending bills; the gifts that kept on giving. So, what could we do but role up our sleeves and work even harder to pay off each and every bill, cutting up credit cards one by one.

Our lives then, were the "Damn it's Monday, Thank God it's Friday, and one missed paycheck away from tough times. Those were the days of living the "American Dream."

Oh, but the dance wasn't over. While we had dealt a fatal blow to our self-centered "OPM" addiction, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, we then needed to slow the wagon down. Slowing down was not even a known. Our lives had become pro-level hamster shit, that of legends. That momentum went on for years. I still remember an odd, if, not relieved moment when I realized I was no longer tensed for the pounce, that day named Tuesday. ~ I Am - Wisdom

Consumer Machine - Who ever dies with the most stuff, wins!

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