If I had a million dollars

by Jinryu

I love the new bike I bought.  It cost me around 320$ and I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’ve been ripped off, but you know what?  I think that people put way too much stock in hardware and expertise to understand just what it is that I’m paying for.  Sometiems people focus way too much with the tangible and forget that one of the definint characteristics of our humanity is that we’re emotionally self-governed.

The fact is, when I spend money, I spend money on things that will make me happy.  I don’t buy things because they’re expensive, or cheap, or because I want to own something that’s top of the line.  I mean, I could, but I only would if I thought it would make me happy.  The thing is, happiness is elusive, and people will often tell you that money, above all, doesn’t buy happiness– well, that’s somewhat of a sweeping generalization.

  • If I had a million dollars, I’d buy myself the restaurant in Hong Kong that made me that amazing beef rice pot that I was there the last time I visited, and make them make it for me everyday.  That restaurant actually is a hole in the wall in one of the dirtiest parts of the city, but what can I say– they make a good rice pot.
  • If I had a million dollars, I’d watch broadway shows all week, in Broadway.
  • If I had a million dollars, I’d buy a new pair of running shoes.
  • If I had me a million dollars, I’d buy a guitar whose machine heads didn’t come loose and untune it after about 15 minutes.
  • If I had a million dollars, I’d buy me an emu.
  • etc. etc. etc.

It really depends on how you want to define your happiness I suppose.  I wonder if such a thing is even possible– do we chose what makes us happy, or does what makes us happy chose us, and who we are?

Let me tell  you why my bike makes me happy.

When I ride it home at night, the bike just feels mean and lean.  With no brakes and no gears, there’s no protruding cabling anywhere.  With a pedal brake built into the rear wheel, there’s never any squeak from rainwater.  Without derailleurs, I can coast down a street like a ninja– the only thing I can hear is the sound of the rubber on the road.

That makes me happy.

And of course, if you want to compare it to cheaper bikes that other people will buy, or more expensive ones that have more value for money, sure, go ahead– I’ll just be happy that for the most part I know what I want, wheras your bike, priced well as it may be, gathers cobwebs in the garage.

(Definately holier than thou.)