There are supposedly lots of things we take for granted or are psychologically addicted to that we don't really need. Me, I like utilities: heat, gas, electricity, running water, indoor plumbing.

I like having a house to come home to. I like to put non-processed, non-toxic vegetable and animal matter in my mouth where the matter trickles down into my gastro-intestinal system. I like to walk outdoors, onto my property and pick up something that I'd have to wait in line for at the supermarket, have a "speshul membership card" for "speshul 4% deal" to buy.

I even like climbing into a large vehicle and zoning out while someone else drives me and sixty other people eight miles to work. I admit I also like settling into the driver's seat of a warm, covered vehicle when it is wet and cold outside and I have to be somewhere faster than a bus could be.

I like to cover my shoulders, elbows, torso down to my knees, and even to cover my feet. I like to stave off or slow down the physical deterioration of vital organs.

I like to show affection to my friends, and sometimes to my family. I like to redistribute a small percentage of my income to where it's needed more. To top it all off, I would like to have all of the above even when I am not punching the clock or earning a living. I might scale down from a house to an apartment or a "Golden Agers Eco-Commune" hut.

I am hoping then that we will have fewer people in the house, with smaller stomachs, and lots of free time so we can make gifts.

So scaling back is as difficult for me as it is for many other young families. Is there anything above that identifies me clearly as an "over-entitled American?" The transportation, clothing and entertainment costs are easy to cut back. The food and utilities: not so much. I could save on food if I spent money on sprouters, and jars and canning, and soil amendments and rental fees for tillers, and woke up in the dark with a flashlight and a brick to look for slugs, and chest freezers, and vacuum sealers. I could save on energy if I spent money on new siding, a new roof, solar panels, cistern, rainbarrels, a lean-to to store dry firewood. Oh, but there's that insurance thing to think about. It reminds me of the Dilbert comic: "Every item on this list is Top Priority except for Personal Life." My husband and I are trying to think of how we could scale back, wondering if we'll resort to our 1996 way-of-life (one-bedroom apartment, one car, no savings) in the recession. Except we didn't have Roth IRAs to contribute to, and we spent a greater percentage of our budget on food back then than we do now. We bought clothes at retail prices then, and the only apparel I buy at full cost now are undercarriage and shoes. We went to movies three times a week and now, maybe twice a month, we rent from an excellent video/DVD place, or watch stuff from YouTube. I am not ready for this recession.

And yet, I look at what we earn, how infrequently we shop for clothes or drive (still frequently enough to merit having a beater car on weekends), and wonder how to manage our goals of having the mortgage paid off before either one of us turns 55, a year or two of university education saved for the kidlet, while more or less having our expectations and needs met by one salary. I check the Consumer Expenditure Survey for my city for 2005-2006 and doggedly try to whack our expenditures to meet or beat what is spent by the average household unit in our area. It's challenging. The savings goals are to be met by the other person's salary. We're about 60-65%, rather than 50%, and I think some of that is due to food choices, technology we're not really dependent on, and our accelerated mortgage. And we should be able to afford insurance and bring that emergency fund up to six months, but no.
I failed the Kiplinger's Financial Fitness Test because I didn't have an emergency fund of six months' expenses. Truth is, I had emergencies! There's a lot I don't have.