Shopaholics, Big Spenders and People in Debt, Getting Smacked by Economic Reality

By Anneli Rufus, AlterNet. Posted January 1, 2009.

MacDonald, by contrast, locked his gaze on the future. That feat alone is almost superhuman for generations bred to believe, in lockstep, in their own entitlement. News flash: Live on less. Except for a friend's wedding and one much-regretted wild night, he never looked away.

"I was strong."

His wasn't a madcap adventure. Indeed it was so basic that his book bears signs of padding, certain passages too-long drawn out. Because really, his plan boiled down to lentils, homemade sandwiches and saving, lentils, homemade sandwiches and saving: "When I saw something I wasn't supposed to eat, I didn't pick it up. When I saw something at the store that looked good, I didn't buy it. Easy? No. Simple? Yes."

This bullheadedness could be a lesson for us all. We can't talk our way out of overspending anymore, as the fictional Becky Bloomwood does, pointing out that the $60 jar of moisturizer comes with a free lipstick. A season ticket to the museum is a bargain, as long as you vow to visit the museum twice a week. "Buying cheap is actually a false economy. It's much better to spend a little more and make a serious purchase that'll last a lifetime. And this bowl is quite clearly a classic."

But no. 'Tis the season to sacrifice.

The Urban Hermit is an artifact of its era in more ways than one. Actual subject matter aside, the book itself, as a product comprising words printed on paper, is a souvenir of the year the media went into meltdown.

Normally, a key player in the process of producing books is the copy editor, whose job it is to clean up final manuscripts via fact-checking and spell-checking. But when cost-cutting begins, these usually freelance workers are often the first to be excised. What else could explain the whoppers dotting MacDonald's narrative for all to see? They'd be funny if they weren't so scary. In the hardcover edition, we find "hair lip" instead of harelip, "ticks" instead of tics, "Lynrd Skynrd" instead of Lynyrd Skynyrd, "Schemp" instead of Shemp (Howard, that is, of the Three Stooges), and "iron moral" instead of iron morale. The name of San Francisco Chronicle columnist C.W. Nevius appears as "Nevious."

See? Things fall apart.

My friend Megan was a freelance copy editor for major publishers. She passed away suddenly, unexpectedly, a few months before America's cash crisis became explicit. Not a reader of news, Megan would neither have seen this crisis coming nor believed whoever said it was. Dreaming of rhinestone-studded cell phones in rose, lapis and white, she would have wandered headlong into misery. She was not strong.

And when that pale rider approaches on his pale horse on that day of wrath, he will bear in his hands a sign. It will say Lynrd Skynrd.

See more stories tagged with: urban hermit, shopaholic

Anneli Rufus is the author of several books, including Party of One: The Loners' Manifesto.

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