How to be poor

There is only one way of preserving the value of money: spend it.
    Money spent in an intelligent and
enjoyable way cannot lose its value. A pleasant evening spent in the company of
a charming companion of the opposite sex, or with witty, amusing and agreeable
friends, enjoying good conversation, good food and good wine, is something
truly valuable and no economic disaster can diminish its value, ever. A good
book, an exciting concert, a pleasurable trip, the beauty of a landscape, a
good laugh or a good cry are all the true values of life — completely
unaffected by inflation.
    And here the poor (in my sense of the
word) score, once again, over the rich. You can spend a moderate income on such
pleasures; you cannot spend a vast fortune. The rich can buy more of these
pleasures than I can (whether they can enjoy them to the same extent is another
question) but they will still be left with lots and lots of cash, shares,
investments or whatever rich people have to worry about — and all these things
will be exposed to the ravages of inflation.
    One evening after dinner, when I was
sitting in the Garrick with a friend, a Chancery judge, we were approached by a
man I didn’t know. “He is X” — the judge mentioned his name — “the Official
Receiver.” Luckily I do not know much about Official Receivers, but I know
enough to realise that the Official Receiver is the boss of all of them,
and I shuddered. I hoped that he would not come to join us. But he did. And a
very pleasant and amusing gentleman he turned out to be, although he started
our chat rather frighteningly.
    “I have just come from the annual
dinner of Official Receivers,” he said. I went pale. I imagined a huge room
full of Official Receivers, hundreds of them. “And I heard a story which I
found pretty amusing. It was told by one of my colleagues.”
    My blood froze. I could imagine a
story told by an Official Receiver. But I was wrong again. He repeated the
story.
    “There was a bankrupt in front of my
colleague who had inherited £80,000. Two years later he was bankrupt. The
Receiver, of course, had to ask him how he spent the money. He said he didn’t know.

    “You know perfectly well. Just
think.”
    The man thought and replied: “I lost
£20,000 on horses.”
    “That leaves you with £60,000.”
    The man went on thinking. “I spent
£20,000 on drinks. Parties and that sort of thing.”
    “That still leaves you with £40,000.”
    A lot of further heart-searching:
“£20,000 I spent on women.”
    “Very well. And the last £20,000?”
    He wracked his brain but to no avail.
In the end he said: “I have no idea. I must have wasted the last £20,000.” At
the time I thought this was a good anecdote. Today I know it is sound economic
theory.
     
     
    To underline all this I must tell a
story which I heard from a friend who, in turn, was a friend of the late
Charles Clore, the multi-millionaire. Clore was talking about the day when the
Chinese Communists occupied Shanghai, at the end of the forties. On that day
they confiscated forty million pounds from one of the Rothschilds.
    “Forty million pounds gone in one
day. In one hour. In one minute,” Clore piled it on. “One moment he had forty
million pounds, the next it was all gone.”
    His listeners remained silent. Then
Clore added: “And, mind you, that happened at a time when forty million pounds was
still money.”

Last Word

     
    Mark Twain was a great writer and a great
humorist. He said the last word on many problems. On poverty he wrote: “Honest
poverty is a gem that even a king might be proud to call his own, but I wish to
sell out.”
    For once I
disagree with him. I refuse to sell out. Although if I get a really tempting offer....