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A variety of maps, writings, and photos on a various topics that can’t easily be categorized into a county or place.

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The Rise of the Frugal Rich – WSJ

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Skimp on Yogurt, Splurge on Skydiving: The Rise of the Frugal Rich – WSJ

Well-heeled shoppers love a deal.?

Americans with six-figure salaries are increasingly visiting Walmart for prebiotic soda and Dollar Tree for wrapping paper. They are buying $1 boxes of pasta at discount grocer Lidl and cheese at Aldi.

The shift down-market is driven by the fact that even the financially comfortable are acutely aware of how much more expensive everything is today. Discounters are successfully appealing to these sticker-shocked customers through improved digital offerings and aggressive expansions into well-off neighborhoods.

Ask yourself once a week, “if nobody saw this purchase, would I still want it” 🛍️

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I saw this in a video about intentional spending, as the ultimate litmus test to separate genuine utility and personal joy from the trap of “conspicuous consumption.” 

  • The “Invisible” Audit: Look at your recent orders. If you couldn’t post them on social media or tell a friend about them, which ones would suddenly feel like a waste of money?
  • The 72-Hour Rule: For any non-essential item, wait three days. Often, the urge to “be seen” with the item fades, while the desire for something truly useful persists.
  • Cost-Per-Use Thinking: Instead of thinking about the status a product brings, calculate its value based on how often you’ll actually use it in private. 

A Weekend of Celebrations for Vladimir Lennin’s Birthday

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I was riding my mountain bike home, and there was one of those bizzare celebrations of Vladimir Lennin’s birthdays on going where people were out picking up bottles and cans for “proper” disposal in a mound along the roadway like prisoners do in a corporate-arranged event to assuage all liberal guilt.

Do not fear the SuperDuty 😱

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There is a strange, quiet tension in owning a big ol’ F-350 SuperDuty. For two weeks, mine has sat in the driveway, an expensive monument to potential. I find myself avoiding the driver’s seat, almost as if I’m trying to freeze time and keep the truck “new” in my mind for just a little longer. It even smells of the assembly line—a sharp, chemical reminder of the industrial manufacturing process that birthed this beast.

When I look at it, I don’t just see a vehicle; I see the weight of it. I think about the gallons of fuel it thirstily consumes and the heavy footprint it leaves on an already cooking planet. Then there’s the reality of the road: the aggressive enforcement waiting behind highway medians and the distracted motorists, eyes glued to phones, ready to collide with my pristine investment. In the city, a bicycle, a pair of boots, or a bus pass feels more honest. They are lighter, kinder ways to move through the world.

But a truck isn’t meant to be a driveway ornament, and I didn’t spend this kind of money just to admire the paint job. There is a conflict there—the guilt of burning expensive gasoline for no reason versus the desire to use the tool I paid for. I refuse to waste it on pointless trips to Walmart or aimless loops around town. That’s not what this machine is for.

I’m waiting. I’m waiting for the camper shell to arrive and for the spring sun to bake the mud off the back country roads. That is the SuperDuty’s true North: the remote country, the places where the pavement ends and the air is clear.

Ultimately, I have to remind myself not to let fear steal the experience. It’s mine, it’s paid for, and these days are fleeting. I’ll drive it when the destination deserves the journey, because in the blink of an eye, the truck will be gone, a victim of time, miles and rust.