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The recession from a different perspective Submitted by Michael Fielding on Tue, 09/08/2009 - 10:51pm.

The other day over breakfast I was reading a cover story in the Chicago Tribune about the effect of the economic downturn on Illinoisans. The story featured six people and cited results from a Tribune/WGN poll.

I couldn’t get it out of my head. I am part of the 52% of Americans who think that their family’s financial condition is about the same as it was a year ago. But that’s not what got me thinking. It was the attitude of those featured.

A Brookfield woman described herself as an average American who is slimming down her budget by skipping out on “pricey coffee drinks” and by bringing lunch to work. Are you kidding me? This is hardship? “We have to take stock of what’s important,” she said. “There are more important things than going out to dinner every night.” Hmm, I never would’ve guessed.

Another woman is cutting back on vacations and cooking “hamburger instead of steak.”

Sorry guys. I’m not impressed.

The only people I sympathize with are the jobless and homeless – the unfortunate victims of this mess. But break out the violins for the rest of America, the people who fret about their decline in savings, the people who are eating out less, traveling less and being more deliberate in their purchasing of non-essentials. I’m talking about the target markets of the ad firms that have cooked up “appetite stimulus packages” and great deals on new cars from auto makers that care.

In a way, I’m really enjoying all of this hand-wringing by my fellow consumers, people who are whining about living paycheck to paycheck – the same people a 49-year-old from Evanston told the Trib she is concerned about because they’re the ones who are really struggling.

Guess what? It’s a familiar predicament for me. After all, I’ve been living this way for years. I have a very high student loan payment and a not-so-well-paying job. But that’s the life I’ve chosen.

Our “vacations” consist of weekend trips to places like Parke County, Ind. – the covered bridge capital of the world – and the Twin Cities – where we are given free lodging by great old friends. Ok, so we used some tax refund money last year to spend a few days in Belize. So shoot us.

Despite our limited lifestyle, I have maintained a high credit score and have no credit card debt. We drive a minivan and eat hamburgers a lot. My wife and I took advantage of the economic downturn and refinanced, reducing our monthly payments by more than 20%. We stock up on bulk items from Costco and grow our own vegetables. We rely on gift cards to buy clothes. Our kids play with toys bought from garage sales and wear hand-me-downs from friends and family. I pick up free lance work whenever possible.

The point is that amid all this talk of Americans figuring out ways to stretch their dollar, I can’t help but giggle from the strong sense of vindication. I cashed out my 401(k) several years ago to pay off my car loan as a last resort to keep from going broke. Don’t mistake this for whining; I’m simply trying to put it all into perspective.

I can scramble an egg 36 different ways and call it supper.

Our play set, big screen television, living room furniture, stereo system, iPods, Wii system and video camera – all the “extras” that many of us take for granted – they were all gifts. They weren’t on our financial radar because we probably couldn’t afford them in the first place.

Yet here’s the Chicago Tribune and pretty much every other media outlet highlighting the tribulations of “real” Americans in this Great Recession. I just can’t empathize. I’ve never been fortunate enough to waste much of my money on those extras like pricey coffee drinks and regular dinners out. But I’ve learned to deal with it.

I’ve spent a lot of time drowning my sorrows, blaming myself and cursing the world. But it doesn’t do any good. This whole “perspective” thing that people like the Brookfield woman bandy about? I found it long ago.

The most important mistake I never made was joining the National Guard back in 2005. The $20,000 enlistment bonus was enticing to a bachelor with a load of student debt that had just come out of deferment. But my fiancée considered it my siren song. She was justifiably concerned that our impending newly wedded bliss would be cut short by a deployment to the Middle East.

Money, they say, isn’t everything. And shortly after I met with the recruiter I reversed my decision to enlist. After all, I may not have made it out of there. Even if I had, things would have turned out differently: I would have missed a promotion opportunity that I later took advantage of at work. I also would have missed the chance to move back to the neighborhood (back then, during the real estate pinnacle when everyone but my grandmother was busy flipping houses, we were fortunate enough to stumble upon an undervalued but spacious, well-maintained house).

Plus, enlisting would have meant that I’d be away from my family on various weekends. So instead of spending my weekends at the Beverly Arts Center (where a night out with my wife might cost us around $30), hanging out at the Knights of Columbus hall on 111th Street (where just $3 will get you a tasty glass of bourbon on the rocks) and watching the kids run around the Mount Greenwood Park play lot (free, last time I checked), I’d be off training – earning a small stipend to help pay off something like $70,000 in high-interest student loans. I’ve done the math, and it doesn’t add up.

As I walked away from the National Guard Armory that day back in 2005 I began to understand that “perspective” that only now millions of Americans are claiming they’ve found. I was in good health, I was fortunate to have a happy family, and we were about to relocate to a solid neighborhood back home on the Southwest Side.

Four years later, in the wake of the housing bust, a recession and general disgust with the nation’s financial and political leadership, I’m alright with it because I’ve experienced it before and will experience it again.

And I think I’m a better person for it.

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