American Beauty

I recently took a walk down one of the more beautiful streets in our city. . . . I should clarify. The actual street itself wasn’t beautiful. After all, asphalt is asphalt is asphalt. I think it was Einstein who said that. No, maybe Voltaire. OK, I confess. I’m not sure who said it. But I’m pretty sure it was someone famously smart. I mean, c’mon. It does sound like something someone famously smart would say after all. Doesn’t it, Dear Reader?

Street smart

Anyway, what I mean is that the “street” was beautiful because it was lined with pretty pink brick houses, many of which had several thousand square feet of interior space; large, well-manicured lawns; various nice accoutrements on their exteriors; and so on. Sales prices for these properties range from the very high six-figures to several million dollars.

This street, and a few other similar ones in our neighborhood, have probably a few hundred houses in the aggregate over about the most expensive respective stretches. Houses on adjoining blocks are mostly smaller, but mostly still beautiful. The average price range for those properties is only slightly less.

Judging from my glances through the street-facing windows of several of these homes, these abodes are well-furnished with beautiful furniture, artwork, the occasional (baby) grand piano, and such. Surely the fixtures and appliances similarly exhibit their owners’ refined tastes. The driveways, garages, and adjacent streets are mostly filled with vehicles like large, new SUVs, and high-end sedans and sports cars.

All very pretty. All. Very. Expensive.

Rich house, poorhouse

I’ve no doubt that many of these homes’ owners/residents are wealthy. Some very wealthy. And by “wealthy,” I mean that in addition to their homes and material possessions, they live well below their means and have fat bank, brokerage, and/or retirement accounts (Accounts) and multiple and/or income streams (Streams), too. Some of these folks may even have reached FIRE, whether they did so intentionally or not.

Others, I suspect, have some “wealth” as so defined. But not enough to weather a job loss or one or more other income streams (if there are any) disappearing for more than a month or six.

Yet others have no “wealth” to speak of. Or, worse, are swimming in debt. They’re hanging on by a thread and are a job loss or large or unexpected expense away from finding themselves in a very, very uncomfortable position. Immediately.

I’m fairly certain that most residents/owners of these properties, furniture, vehicles, and such have them because they just plain wanted something big and beautiful and/or for self-satisfaction. “I’ve earned it!,” they might tell themselves and others.

Or maybe they wanted to wow others. “Look at this house! Aren’t you impressed!?,” they might exclaim, full of satisfaction.

Or perhaps they have these houses and material possessions because lots of people they know have those things. “Our friends and family have a 3,000-square-foot house, a brand new Lexus, and fine furniture. So surely it’d be absurd for us not to as well!,” they rationalize.

Probably Maybe all of these things.

Of the less “wealthy,” or more indebted among them, these considerations might be infinitely more important to them than having equally impressive Accounts or Streams. In fact, these people might not care one whit about their Accounts or Streams, which, after all, aren’t typically visible to the outside world. Maybe some FIRE bloggers people broadcast the value of their Accounts and Streams. But even for those exhibitionists outliers, it’s not like there’s a running total visible on their heads or anything.

Do you see what I see?

But what if those Accounts and Streams were completely visible to everyone? And what if the bigger they were, the more objectively beautiful they’d appear? After all, if big enough, they can allow the owner(s) full access to, and ownership of, one of life’s most valuable things: (much greater control over one’s) time. That’s a beautiful thing I think we can agree.

I suspect that were this possible, you’d have way fewer people leveraging themselves (to the hilt and beyond) to have a McMansion. Or a new high-end SUV or sports car. Or top-of-the-line appliances that they seldom if ever use. Instead, I think you’d have a lot more people furrowing their brows trying to figure out ways to juice those Accounts and Streams.

I’d get quite a kick out of this. We live in a nice (rented) house, own a moderately priced nine-year-old sedan, and enjoy a great many other creature comforts that enable us to live a life for which we are immensely grateful. None—individually or collectively—have bankrupted/will bankrupt us. Not even close. And while not unpleasing to the average eye, none are what I’d call objectively really beautiful. Nor, in many cases, unquestionably impressive.

Our Accounts (supplemented by Streams), however, are rather beautiful. Having seen rankings of the average levels of the same for Americans, I have every reason to believe they’re objectively beautiful, too. Very beautiful. Were they visible for all to see, I’m fairly certain that we’d get long glances and doubletakes. Much like the houses on the street I walked down recently do. We’d maybe get, imitators, too.

Would I like one of those big, beautiful houses and certain other items that those in them have? I dunno. Maybe? But do I think our Accounts and Streams are more beautiful and of immensely greater value to us? No question, yes.

And in the end . . .

Dear Reader, my dream of Accounts and Streams being visible for all to see will never happen. This I am equally certain of and disappointed by.

So I’ll have to console myself by hoping that a growing number of people will care less about projecting a false narrative of a beautiful life, and instead focusing on making the valuable-but-invisible-to-the-outside-world things in their life pretty to themselves because they have a different idea of what’s beautiful.