We All Need A New Hat

When Blondie Bumstead got down in the dumps she bought a new hat. Our president is telling us all to go buy new hats. And maybe a new car, some spiffy clothes, a bigger house, a dozen CDs, flowers for our best girl, a stereo for our best guy, a bathrobe for Mom -- in short, everything that's for sale in this, the richest nation on earth.

President George W. Bush wants us to "spend, spend, spend" ourselves out of our national funk, so he has given us an official government endorsement of the slogan, "When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping."

Buying stuff can be a schizophrenic experience; I want to acquire, but I don't want to pay. Usually I get the vapors as the packages pile up between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Lying awake in the dark, I wonder just how deep a financial hole I'm digging myself into.

But not this holiday season. This year my president says I am helping my country by shopping. This takes a little getting used to. First I think, "We have to save money to protect ourselves because the future is so uncertain." Then I think, "We have to spend money to treat ourselves because the future is so uncertain."

Lately I've also been eating dessert first. Last night it was homemade chocolate ice cream in a nice restaurant we wouldn't normally visit, except that it was our anniversary. Our normal routine is to give each other cards and a perfunctory kiss. But 2001 isn't ordinary. 

Mindful of our own shrinking income and painfully aware that many of our friends are out of work, my husband and I held one of those rare kitchen table meetings that couples usually have only at tax time. After reviewing a shrinking savings account, we nonetheless decided, "What the heck, let's celebrate being married to one another anyway."

Taking advantage of a greatly reduced weekend hotel rate and cheap airline tickets, we left behind the errant dog, two ancient, yowling cats, a lawn that needed mowing and a basket of bills.

At a mostly empty resort we slept without alarm clocks, stayed up late, didn't once turn on the television, took a walk in the moonlight, actually talked to one another, ate good food (including that chocolate dessert) and toasted 23 tough but rewarding years together.

It felt good to dress up, dust off our best manners and treat each other with special affection as we parted with hard-earned money to other Americans who sincerely thanked us for flying with them, dining with them, sleeping in their hotel, riding on their buses and buying their souvenirs.

When Blondie and Dagwood got married on Feb. 17, 1933, during the depths of the Great Depression, they vowed to "live on love." For nearly seven decades -- through wars, recessions, natural disasters, assassinations, and the Bomb -- the Bumsteads have endured. Perhaps it's because, no matter how hard things got, Blondie could fix it by buying a new hat.

So thanks, Mr. President. Your spending campaign to boost national morale, end the recession and calm our national fears gave us a great excuse to truly celebrate our anniversary and for me to buy a new hat. 

© 2001 The Women Syndicate

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