𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐋𝐨𝐰 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

When I was in college, on occasion, I would come home on weekends and drive for a friend of mine. He had a contract with a very wealthy family in Lake Forest. He was contracted to do all of their transports for family members and guests. He sometimes would also drive for a few other families. On one such weekend, I was to drive some people back and forth from O'Hare for a wedding. I was to pick up some family members of the bride. I picked up three people at Butler Aviation at O'Hare. In the front seat sat an older man who, as it turns out, was a member of the Mellon family. During our trip to Lake Forest, this gentleman mentioned that the father of the groom had purchased a Porsche for his son as a wedding present. My first thought was, isn’t that what you’re supposed to end up with after a great deal of toil? If that is where he was going to start at 24 years old, what could he possibly end up that would seem meaningful?

In order to grasp the magnitude of such a gift, I would have hoped the father did the following: purchase a 1970 Ford Pinto, appointed with all of the features of the day—a high-fidelity AM radio, pleather seats, hand-crank windows. The AC would be the aforementioned windows. Said pleather seats in the summer would give anyone first-degree burns. Those of you may remember using a towel or something like that to sit on in the middle of summer. I would then ask my son to drive downtown every day from Lake Forest at 5 p.m. in the summer to pick up dinner at Gene and Georgettis.  I would pray for a heat streak like we had not seen in years.

Imagine that baseline when he got into his wedding gift. He was completely robbed of just knowing what an incredible car he got. Getting into his 911 Turbo would have been a religious experience 

My son went to South America as a senior in high school. I dropped him off at the airport and gave him $300.00. I told him I would send him some more money. That was probably a half-truthful statement. When checking his bag, it was overweight by a great deal. Instead of paying the additional fee for the overweight bag, since he knew that my sending more money was a long shot,  he had the wherewithal to not call me. Secondly, he had the common sense to open the bag and start putting clothes on until the bag was underweight. His baseline was wearing two pairs of pants, three shirts, and one sweater for his trip to Florida for a 2-hour layover and then a 5-hour flight to Peru in the middle of their summer. I sent him money to get his bag checked on the way home. How did his flight back in coach feel? He said, “Like first-class seating.”

I gave up running 15 years ago and started cycling. My wife and I went bike shopping at the Bike Stop in Michigan City. I asked the young man what the cheapest road bike was. My wife rolled her eyes. The young man took me to a steel grey Giant brand bike. It was $750.00. My wife said, “You could afford a nicer one.” I said, “I don’t know if I am going to enjoy this, so why get a nicer bike?” That bike served me well for 7 years and probably 15,000 miles. I wanted to get one of my sons into cycling, so I gave him “Grey Lightning.” It was time for me to get a new bike and upgrade. This new Giant bike was $2,000.00. I could justify it now. I took that bike home and went for the maiden ride. The experience was so incredibly different—the way the gears shifted, the braking with disc brakes, the smoother ride as the frame seemed to absorb more of the bumps. The difference was immense. I could not dream of getting back on Grey Lightning. How would I ever have known what a great bike this was without having ridden the inferior one for 7 years?

I could not imagine living a life where this sense of appreciation, in just about everything I have been fortunate enough to upgrade to, was not deeply felt. My baseline was low, and what a way to start life.

Comments from Readers on my last piece.

I grew up with radiator heat in my home in Columbus OH. I have experienced every one of the memories you referenced. They are good ones!

GR