I would buy more guitars and more expensive guitars.
Point of information: I basically suck at playing a guitar with my sausage fingers and inability to keep time. I own 11 guitars, all of them economically priced.
Yes, I know, there is something not right about that but the wife considers my sickness to be fairly harmless and in all cheaper than a bass-boat fishing hobby.
I went into a shop today that had a nice summery long length top in my size, and lawdy they had it in two different colours! If I had the money I’d buy both instead of faffing about trying to decide which colour would go best with whatever else is in my wardrobe, then walking out without either of them.
(they are €16 each, in case anyone is wondering how not wealthy I am)
My wardrobe would consist of nothing but authetic game worn jerseys and my everyday personal computer/laptop would kick ass like a boss instead of the bottom of the line can barely get on the interwebs netbook that I have now.
For starters, rather than making my own coffee, I’d go to 7-11 every day and buy their fresh brewed.
A whole closet full of 3 piece-suits.
Maid service. I’d still do my own lawn. And, cut my own hair.
I would get a decent night’s sleep and not lie there wondering where the rent for this month is gonna come from.
I would pay attention.
I would buy a Rolls-Royce, have it modified to be a pickup truck, then let it get all clapped out and rusted and dented and bondoed and held together with duct tape as I drove around town picking up lumber, cement, and sheep manure for the estate.
I’d get a newer used car with 4WD to replace the slowly dying Subaru.
I’d pay for my kids education at schools that meet their needs, interests and skills & not my current budget.
I’d take bids on the regular home repairs and maintenance that I’ve been putting off for years. I’d stagger the repairs, but I’d schedule & get them done in time.
I’d actually be able to take a Tuesday off twice a year to see my kids perform in school; and maybe a Friday so I could take them camping with the rest of the Troop… and not have to do the early Saturday drive-up-of-shame.
I’d rent a full 25 foot dumpster and have all crap that the town won’t take due to this garbage day or that garbage day cleared out. Might take a few hundred up & down stairs trips…but I’d count it as exercise.
I’d buy an actual dishwasher and have it installed. I’d invite my friends to a Scotch-brite burning party.
I’d buy a refrigerator with an ice-maker and that dispenses cold water. I’d tie a nice birthday ribbon around our old ice-trays that I’d leave out on recyclables day.
I’d find a company that leases PCs where they take the old one back after 2 years & give you a new one at pretty close to top end. One with a regular service contract. Yes, it’d be a regular monthly bill, but ask yourself this: are you going to be giving up the Internet and/or gaming any time soon? And if your PC starts to crap out, since its a lease, you’d Always make that call to get it serviced/fixed before it actually dies.
I’d realize that I’m pissing away all of this money on extravagances, but I’d accept that I and my family are worth it.
You are Dominique Strauss-Kahn and I claim my £5…
I would pay someone ELSE to do my damn taxes. (In fact, I’ll probably do that if I ever “graduate” from the 1040EZ.)
I’d get at least one pair of custom-made heels.
I’d buy the house that’s for sale down the street because it’s refurbished and actually looks really cute now.
I’d never clean a bathroom again.
I would have all my clothes altered to fit. Everything I put on is wrong, somehow - sleeves and pants too long, waistbands too loose or too tight, jacket too loose and boxy, dresses too…whatever. And I would find a source, spare no expense, for comfortable underwear, the kind I don’t even know I have on. And socks that fit perfect and don’t sag. And an extraordinarily comfortable custom-built bra that lets me breathe deeply, the straps won’t fall down, and I can wear a tissue-paper thin t-shirt without flashing the ol’ headlights. Heck, I’ll take black, white, beige, and colors, too!
I’d have the cat’s teeth cleaned at the veterinarian’s.
I would go to the farmer’s market and buy the $6 exotic locally made jelly - clear pink jelly made from Queen Anne’s lace flowers! Or the fresh fish on ice in those big galvanized steel tubs - a pound of each kind, my good man!
(oh, just saw Lynn Bodoni’s post a page back there about clothing,too - I see I’m not alone!)
I would throw out my bushel-basket full of makeup, go somewhere for a makeover, and start all over from scratch, with all good new stuff.
Buy a small summer place in Florida. Nothing super expensive. A small non-tourist town. I’d like one of those old 1950’s houses with the louvered windows that crank open. Florida room. Maybe an hour or two from the beach. Basically I’d love being a small town resident in the summer and not a tourist.
Don’t hate me because I am old money. We have problems too.
I would buy a white suit and get a nice dog named Belvedere. I would walk around town without him on a leash because I could afford any tickets they gave me. Whenever he ran too far away I would say, “Oh Belvedere! Come heeeeree boy.”
I would buy a white suit and get a nice dog named Belvedere. I would walk around town without him on a leash because I could afford any tickets they gave me. Whenever he ran too far away I would say, “Oh Belvedere! Come hear boy.”
I would also have the best Halloween decorations anyone ever saw. The Thriller video would be low-budget in comparison.
Monocles.
I would have line caught, smoked salmon with organic free-range eggs every morning.
And I would buy a luxury coach, fill with old people once a week and take them to the supermarket for their weekly shop. And pay for all of them.
OK, that second one is a biggie.
I would buy pants.
I would buy pants from anywhere in the world who claimed to carry something my size. I would hire translators to navigate their websites or obscure mail order forms if need be. I would pay couriers to pick them up from boutiques anywhere on the planet and bring them back to me. Any pants that did not fit comfortably at all would go straight to charity with the tags still on.
Pants that had potential would go to a tailor to see if the waistband and length could be fixed so that they fit me perfectly. Pants that failed this round would also go straight to charity. Or to anyone else who wanted them, really.
If any pants can be purchased or altered to fit me without pinching, rubbing, flashing everyone my ass-cleavage, trying to crawl up my rib cage when I sit down, flapping at the pockets like elephant ears, dragging on the ground, showing the world my socks, or just plain looking stupid, I will go back to where I found them and buy a pair in any color and fabric combination I might conceivably wear.
And then I will buy an extra pair for the tailor to take apart and duplicate in any color/fabric combo the original designer missed.
On second thought, maybe that’s kind of a big thing.
Agnes is her name and she is mentioned in the Travis McGhee color series by John D. McDonald.
I would hire a team of professional bra fitters to set my wife up with comfortable bras year round.
Wealthy? You mean really wealthy? Well, I think I would go ahead and upgrade from Windows 2.0 to maybe, Windows 3.0 or cast caution to the wind and go whole hog to Windows 95! Wow, that would be something!
Serious answer: I really wouldn’t change anything.
Put me down for someone who would hire weekly lawn and cleaning services. I know people in my current suburban neighborhood uses them as sometimes I feel like the only sucker in the world who cuts his own grass.
