Exactly right, IMHO. Some personal background needed:
After having attended college in the US and loved the whole experience, I wanted MORE of the American Dream – nothing else would do. Unfortunately (though most would call it the opposite) I had a rather large building materials company to come back to in the Dom Rep. Wasn’t as much of a choice as it was an obligation; moreover when my Dad died a day before I turned 22 and we inherited 47% of the stock in it along with veto powers over all others (family members). Worked there for six years, and that’s when I really got an education. Turns-out (for right or wrong reasons and all of the ones in between) there was a LOT of resentment for my Dad’s rather dictatorial ways for over 30 years, and even having said power, college didn’t teach me how to cheat – guess they are missing a course in “How to deal with everyone against you.” Now, besides flat-out not liking the job (while I was highly successful at it, overall 40% sales improvement in said six years, though I could, I wasn’t willing to keep “selling iceboxes to Eskimos.” Which, in a comparable way, was exactly what I was doing.
Lifestyle? Through the roof, had more money than I could possibly know what to do with – cars (plural), houses, etc. But the whole thing was simply depressing to me. Here came an iron-worker, and my job was to convince him I was giving him the best possible price, while knowning the books I knew it was nothing short of highway robbery.
Long story short, I sold our stock in the company (to the great joy of those that bought it) and moved on, to what I thought were greener pastures. Having married my second American (no kids from the first, as decent a human being as I’ve ever known. Zero courts or obliged support) I decided I wanted to give the US a real try, short after I married my second American. Had the money, the youth and – so I thought – the experience to deal with any sort of boss that came my way. After six years as a department manager at Bloomie’s, I realized it was all for naught – he/she who has the connections, wins. The buyer’s job I was promised from day one, was just that, an empty promise. Meanwhile I rented from my brother in-laws and kept pretty fine cars as my mode of transportation. After all, I figured working 50-60 hours a week (and showing results) would allow me to climb the socio-economic ladder. Never happened – stuck in the same position with a “next year promise” each time – thus it came to me (mind you in my mid-thirties and with a kid now) thet BStals and actions walk.
Left Bloomingdale’s and worked RE for a while – same crap,different concept as I finally ended-up making some good bucks as a computer consultant/teacher (median age of the place might have been 50/55 at the time and ‘puters’ were a real puzzle to most Realtors.
Got divorced again in the meanwhile and made sure I paid the outrageous child-support assigned me by the American Courts (where I never should accepted proceedings) by the time my son was 14 – o
Fats-forward to now. Moved back to the DR, where , besides selling my stock in the company along but separate Real Estate interest in it, I’ve devoted myself into selling some other RE holdings I had. Hasn’t been an easy road – paying all my child-support at once put in rather dire straights…though that is exactly what I wanted. I hate owing money to anyone.
But finally I had a breakthrough and managed to sell one of my remaining properties And what do you know? After driving a 15 year-old Camry since I got my first purchase was an '08 4Runner 4 x 4 Ltd. Nothing tricked about, other than full insurance and every protective device known to man. But dammit! Even if I realize it is not the soundest of investments, NO one can take the pleause of drivind and/or playingg loooking at the thing.
Could I have invested the $45,000 (cars are really expensive here) in a more profitable way? But of course. I’ve been trained as a business man from youth. But by the same token, if I die 2morrow, my son’s career if paid for – unless his Mother squandered all the hundreds of thousands of dollars I sent here way.
Bottom line: still own four apartment and some land. And I feel the least bit guilty about my choices. In fact, none at all.
If my son doesn’t inherit another dime from me…we’ll, a call a year (On Father’s day) is surely not going to make me feel guilty.
As long or as short a time left I have here, I intend to live to the fullest of my capacities. No guilt involved at all. Juts making sure, both him and his Mother, don’t keep thinking of myself as a checkbook/wallet with legs and little else.
I may day tomorrow, but no one’s going to take away – within my means --my last decade as a fully functioning member of this society.,
Hell, if one I wanted (which I don’t) I need not give explanations (or even less-likely BS)