Serf-ing USA
Recently an acquaintance left me speechless for a minute when he said: “Wait, I thought you were rich?”
Of course, compared to rest of the developing world, almost every American could be called rich. I’ve traveled in developing nations and have been stunned when I return home with a clear view of the chasm between rich and poor nations.
But that’s not what the guy meant.
Lucy and I live well, but that’s mostly because we eliminated all our debt (including our mortgage) when we were in our late 30s. My income puts us in the 65th percentile in the United States. That’s pretty good for a journalist/woodworker/teacher. But it would be laughable to a freshly degree-d medical school school graduate.
On the drive home from the conversation, I recovered a bit from the comment and tried to see things his way. And it made sense.
Here’s what he sees: a house filled with handmade objects, original art on the walls, nice clothing, trips overseas. Here’s what I see: prototype furniture I wouldn’t dare sell, things I’ve traded other people for my work, outsider art I bought for $10 to $35 at street fairs, clothes that are well-worn and built to last, and exhausting work trips where I tacked on a few extra days to do research.
And yeah, sure, I have a rich inner life.
This got me to thinking about all the woodworkers’ homes I've visited since I started working in the business in 1996. Woodworkers, especially those who design furniture, usually have homes that are magazine-tasteful. Sure, there are a few exceptions. One professional high-end woodworker I met had his home filled with plastic chairs from Walmart.
“If I can sell it,” he said, “I’d rather have the money.”
Which do you think comes first? Taste or woodworking skills? Perhaps you have good taste in furniture, so you begin making pieces you want? Or do you develop good taste in furniture because of the stuff you are exposed to as a woodworker? Perhaps a bit of both?
In my case, I got my eye from both sides of my family. My maternal grandparents had exquisite taste in antiques – American, Japanese, Chinese and English. Every room of their Connecticut home was filled with understated pieces that were about form, beautiful wood, patina and outstanding construction. My paternal grandparents also had good taste, but it was mid-century modern. I loved both aesthetics as a child (and continue to).
What does all this have to do with “The American Peasant?”
Quite a bit. I cannot think of any home where I felt more comfortable than in the simple, pre-industrial ones I’ve visited. Give me a stone fireplace, a wooden chair and a stool to prop up my feet that’s in a cozy room filled with a handful of well-worn things.
Add a few pieces of furniture that protect the objects I own – not much more. It’s mostly furniture that I made, but it’s stuff that didn’t take years or a small fortune to construct. And when I look at these pieces, they remind me of what’s important.
And what’s important? Doing meaningful work, either during the morning, afternoon or evening.
You might call this romantic. I call it being truly rich.
Oh, and give me a three-legged cat.
P.S. From here on out, some “American Peasant” posts will be behind a paywall; others (such as this one) will be free for everyone. This is not a sales pitch – just an FYI.
In the instance of the shoes, in my area it is getting almost impossible to find a shoe cobbler. I'm afraid some trade are being lost.
I definitely understand your position. We too have no mortgage (we paid it off in our 50’s). While we have not built all the furniture in our home (yet), we did build the entire house around it (including all the cabinets, doors, stairs etc.). We definitely feel rich to have had the luck and fortitude to go our own way and have the time to spend the way we want. You don’t have to be rich to avoid debt, just disciplined, and willing to work hard and live within your means. While we never had all those things others have had, it has paid off, we have all we want or need.