story 1

I know one guy who lives in a relatively humble, rented home but has a luxury car and spends $25,000 a year to play at a tennis club. When I suggested that he could play tennis inexpensively in any one of several local venues, he insisted, "You have to live the lifestyle to meet the right people. Besides, they all see my car, but no one knows where I live!" I know another lifestyle junkie, a leading light at the ballet and the opera, with another expensive habit: valet parking. When the valet service is free, he still tips the valet five dollars. On one occasion when we met for lunch, the parking lot was largely empty, so I parked right next to the front door, while my friend drove up and grandly handed his keys to the valet. After lunch, we came out together and I drove off right away while my friend waited impatiently for the valet, who was nowhere to be seen. Now, I don't feel particularly humble or miserly, but I really don't understand the rationale of the luxury lifestyle. In fact, I remember the remark of a guy who ignored the champagne at a fancy reception and asked for a beer. "Hey!" he said, "I'm rich enough to drink what I want, not what looks good." These days, when I see somebody posturing beyond their means, I remember a Texas cattleman's wisecrack: "Big hat, no cattle!"