I’ve always been one to take the slow, safe road when it comes to finances.
From pizza jobs that covered rent out west, to that first summer in Alaska saving for a computer, and finally, pinching all my pennies while at
Snowboarder magazine, desperately trying to pay down credit card debt
amassed at MCAD. I just couldn’t get ahead at the mag. Being close to $10,000 in the hole and not seeing any light at the end of the tunnel, and having to deal with all that sun? No wonder I only made it twenty-two months down there.
That place just ate all the money up. Nothing was left over at the end of the month. When I got up to Cinco, I made enough loot to get ahead a little bit. In about a year, I paid off that damn credit card I’d been dragging along since my MCAD years. This was my first step to really getting free.
It was scary going out fully on my own. For a number of reasons. First off, I was leaving the security of Cinco and their steady stream of solid projects, insurance, profit sharing and account managers to track our movements. That stuff was nice, but it was a bit claustrophobic. I played along as well as I could but got a whiff of being able to do this stuff on my own, free of the
conventional professional pitfalls.
I had to give it a shot. Could I make a living from my basement? All signs pointed to a big, meaty “Yes!” Overhead? That was my house. Business
expenses? Every cent I made went to arming myself with the right equipment.
And all of it from a simple, frugal perspective.
Going out on my own, I started to see stuff start to change right away. I had more time to focus. I could work until the wee hours or take the day off to rest.
And I took every single job that came down the pipe. Everything added up. I was just hoping to hit something close to what Cinco was throwing down.
And I did. The first year I was on my own? I tripled my previous wage. No one told me this could or would happen. I’m still blown away by that little figure. I did a budget for myself, stuck to it and made time for each job. Once I got past the hurdle of having enough work on my own, I started to focus on chipping away at the bigger problems: loans, loans and loans.
Equipment
I always tried to be smart about equipment. Invest in the best gear as possible, and be frugal wherever you can. I always tried to buy the best computers I could afford, careful to be able to cover each transaction. I put as little loot as I could on credit cards. Basically, the rule is this: Don’t buy something you can’t afford. As simple as that. If you have to throw it on a credit card? Fine. But damn, pay that thing off right away.
School Loans
I left school in 2000 close to $27,000 in debt. And I faithfully paid each month for eight years. A couple years into that, I doubled my monthly payment to chip away at the balance quicker. Each month, I’d fill out the check, put it in the envelope, affix the stamp and send it off, fretting its delivery and subsequent reflection on my balance. I remember freaking out at the possibility that my envelope would get lost in the mail and it’d be some kind of “ding” on my account and credit. It made it each time.
Proud of having been able to make the payments, some eight years after
leaving MCAD, I called to check the balance. The girl on the other end chirped a tinny “Oh, it’s at twenty-thousand-something-or-other dollars.” That seemed a bit high. All these years making the payments, and then doubling the payment the last four years, and I’d only chipped off a mere $7,000? It didn’t seem right. The loan officer explained it to me with the principal, interest, and the whole deal. A bleak outlook. And yet, that whole time, I thought I was getting ahead.
So that day, I emptied my whole bank account and paid that loan all the way off.
Flustered, the loan officer offered to reduce the rate, refinance and whatever the hell else. So slimy. Whatever it took to keep you held down. I paid it off that afternoon and got a little taller with that bullshit off my back. Now, I
understand very clearly that I got off pretty easy with school. I was lucky to get an incredible scholarship and be able to pay back the loans quickly. But still, that took hard work and sticking to a tight budget.
Adventures in Homeowning
When I bought my little house in 2004, I remember feeling lucky for the privilege. That’s one of the big things in life, you know? And I always build them up into these mythic, ominous creatures. I worked my ass off for the down payment and spent a ton of time finding the right place around Portland.
Simple enough. Once I finally locked in, I remember being so freaked out at
“thirty years of payments” and how much the bank would make. And how powerless we all were in the face of odds like that. I paid that loan each month faithfully, and yet still had money left over. Seven years into the loan, I drained the savings and paid my house off. And each year since then, I’ve saved close to $10,000 in what would have been good ol’ interest. Screw that.
First it was paying off my school loans. Then it was the house. My Volvo? I paid cash for that Swedish meatball. Hell, I even paid off my appendix! I don’t write this shit to brag, I write it because I’m so proud I did it by working with my friends, on things I love.
Frugal Living
Mike Watt called it doing things “econo.” Watt booked his own tours, carried his own gear up to the stage and sold shirts from a garbage bag at the end of the show. That had a profound effect on me. He was a punk rock hero,
renowned in the ranks. To see him being human with every aspect of his work made it hit home that much harder. Mike Watt made it okay to go out on my own.
On the facing page you’ll see my beloved Cabela’s Bargain Cave windbreaker.
That’s my security blanket. It’s been around the world a number of times. I’ve rolled the odometer on that thing! It’s been mended by my little sister Leah a couple times now. And if my memory serves me correctly, I paid a whopping
$16 for it in Owatonna, Minnesota. Back in 2008 or something.
Here’s the thing: I don’t need five windbreakers. I need one. And I’ll use that thing until it dies. There’s something to be said about being frugal, and, hell, not really knowing any better. America is weird when it comes to how we consume things. Closets full of unused bullshit. And I’d reckon I’m as guilty as the next guy.
I remember reading some quip about how the writer was “the most freest I’d ever been when I could fit all my contents into one backpack.” That’s stuck with me all these years. I know, I know, if you’ve ever been to the shop you are rolling your eyes, but shit, paper and ephemera are a different thing. The
important part is that I try to be cognizant of how I spend each penny. And sure, it’s a bit obsessive, but I know that it’s these small steps that have gotten me to where I am today.
I haven’t had a cent of debt since around 2008. And that took a lot of work. I still believe that making the jump to freelance is what rescued me from a life of pinching pennies and jobs that pay you precisely as little as they can.
This fuckin’ thing needs to be washed. Or burned.