Mary and Bob’s Journal

I’ve noticed that whenever I’m watching a show or movie lately, I wonder about the characters’ financial situations.  I wonder how much they earn each year, how much credit card debt they have, how much is in their retirement accounts, how they invest, how involved they are in making their investment choices.  I wonder if they thought about how they’d fund a college education for their child before they conceived.  I wonder if they have a 30 year mortgage and if they fell into one of those variable interest rate loans.  I wonder if they had help from a parent with a down payment.  I wonder if they have trust funds or inheritances. 

Take Gilmore Girls, for example.  One of my very favorite shows. (No spoilers please, I’m still working my way through old seasons on DVD.)  I wonder: just how rich are the parents? I mean, Emily Gilmore bought that little “safe house”.  A gizmo like that must cost tens of thousands.  It’s not so much the price tag, though, it’s the concept of it.  Which level of disposable income does someone need to have to think they need a safe house?

So that got me thinking, what are the numbers on their bank statements?  If I were a writer for that show, I would want to have a full financial picture of the grandparents’ situation.  I mean, if Richard (Grandpa) is hiding debt from Emily, that’s going to show up in a grimace at the breakfast table, right?  Emily may never find out, the viewers may not find out, but the writers should know.    

I don’t just think about it with shows where money is an underlying topic.  It’s usually on my mind in some capacity or another regarding all characters I encounter.  Isn’t it odd how it feels safe to me to admit that about characters?  Yet, it doesn’t feel safe to admit that about my friends and acquaintances.  Why is it so taboo? And it’s not as if I’m looking to judge anyone - it’s more like, I’m looking for lessons.  Examples.  Ideas for how to make my own choices.  

But back to TV.  It’s already been a public topic of conversation that the Friends could have never afforded their NY living conditions shown in the show.  But take the much newer show Huff.  (Again, no spoilers please, I’m back in Season 1.)  That’s an awfully big Brentwood home for a psychiatrist to afford.  I mean how much do psychiatrists make? Does the average LA shrink make more than a working screenwriter?  I know the Huff Doctor’s mom has “old Pasadena money” - but come on, Pasadena itself is a new place, so how old can the money be?

So yeah, basically, I’m trying to figure out how to be an adult.  How to manage my own money.  And since it’s not a comfortable topic of conversation at dinner parties, I’m left to ponder the situations and choices of the people who I know more about than most of my friends - the fictional characters in the stories that entertain me.  

Living Bel Air adjacent, it sometimes boggles my mind to think that the woman standing in front of me in line at the Century City Fuddruckers might actually reside in a 12 million dollar home.  Yes, I’ve read Rich Dad Poor Dad, and I’ve started some books by David Bach - and I do plan to finish at least one of them. Meanwhile, I’ve shelved Suze Orman’s texts because a financial planner I saw once said I can make perfectly sound decisions without listening to the annoying likes of the SuzMonster.  

I guess one of the best things I’ve learned about money in recent years has been from either Tony Robbins or Wayne Dyer.  Or maybe it was the same message I heard from both of them:  no matter what, building wealth starts with feeling the abundance that’s already present.

That’s much easier to do when I keep a global perspective. So what if there’s a leak in the bathroom roof right now.  There is a bathroom.  There is plumbing. There’s a roof.