Boycott this! Boycott that! Ignore the advertisers and the corporations! Shout it out! Ah, my blogs and my books are the closest I get to that. As for the boycotts and such, sometimes it is hard for a frugal person to stand out because they’ve been disconnected from consumerism for decades. At least, that’s the case with me. It can be frustrating to not be on the bandwagon when you’ve already got a headstart on where it’s going.

I quit watching sports when I started hiking. Lots of sweat. Maybe some bugs. Either dusty or muddy. But no ads. Well, there are ads. Look at REI and North Face. But hiking is not a spectator activity. If you do nothing, nothing happens. Soon after my first hike, I realized that watching sports was watching millionaires play for billionaires while making money from millions of thousandaires – and I’d just used up a few hours of my life cheering on people who weren’t going to reciprocate. 

Go for a hike. Ride a bike. Ski. (Life in Washington State means I’ve been able to ski every month of the year. August was a bit of a stunt, but I did it.) 

There were no cheers, unless it was sharing from a hip flask around a campsite. Skip the image of a campfire. In the alpine terrain, there isn’t much wood, nature needs what’s there, and besides, the light obscures the stars. Quiet and wonder. Priceless (except for the effort, the gas to get there, the gear that makes it possible, and the effort.)

That logic could’ve ended there. Skip sports unless I’m in it, not just watching it.

The logic was extended. 

What else was I watching on some monitor that had nothing to do with my life? I don’t need travel ads to tell me to travel. Things to eat and drink are more appealing when I know where and maybe who they come from. Magazines and then websites were handy for keeping up with tech trends. Using tech to track tech is circular, which can also suggest a possible trap. 

Eating out became rarer because I realized I like to cook, can cook to my tastes rather than some chef’s, and it can cost a lot less. Reducing the beverage bill alone is worth the savings, and drinking at home is safer, easier, and doesn’t involve trying to get the attention of a waiter or bartender. I still eat out, but it is almost exclusively for convenience or to be social. (Bonus for living near a food co-op with a hot deli: cheaper, quicker, and to my taste buds better than any chain. Even lots of local diners are serving packaged food masquerading as home cooking.)

I’ll leave it to you to extend the logic to other aspects of our consumerist society. Minimalists may not call me a minimalist, which makes me smile as I sit in my tiny house. (MyTinyExperiment.com) I have been called Mr. Frugal. More mainstream people who’ve visited my prior houses thought I’d already moved out. Paraphrasing Creature Comforts, “Space. What I need is space. Without space, what have you?” Empty space is valuable. I like to fill it with exercise, dancing, and a feeling of expanse.

Imagine the savings in furniture. Imagine the savings in time dusting stuff. Imagine having fewer couch cushions to search through when hunting for lost keys or remotes.

But such frugality comes at a cost, a social cost. 

Lately, there is an appropriately overwhelming array of boycotts. Don’t buy this or that. OK. Considering the price of cars, unless I win the lottery, I wasn’t planning on spending more on a car than I did buying my tiny house. Boycott chain stores? Duh. That’s something new to do? 

Some boycotts are more difficult. Anything with more than a few parts probably involved other nations. Few places grow everything everyone in that area needs. My grimace moments are when I acquiesce to shopping on any online site, and even to selling my books there, too. Avoiding online shopping has become impossible pragmatically, and is more of a stunt that requires a great effort. Semi-rural life relies on delivered goods.

I’m not writing this post to plug my books and photos and merch, but I also feel that I must be honest about the realities of life as a writer, photographer, and speaker. (And I wonder if I’ve updated the links at the top of my site recently enough. Hmm. OK. Books Photos Speaking Events)

But from what I hear, I may be in a minority. Millions are massing against corporations and governments. Good. Free speech is incredibly valuable. For me to stand up and say that I’m not shopping at Wal-Mart, or wherever, is silly. They haven’t profited from me for – pardon me as I caught myself scratching my head for an answer – possibly decades. (Ah, there was that one last-minute run into one when I was helping a non-profit get ready for an event.)

One probably unofficial definition of frugality is to respect our resources. That can mean respecting time, money, things, and even people. (Gasp! Respecting people? Radical.) 

So, pardon me if I am not in the parade, though I applaud the effort. Pardon me if I am not on the bandwagon, though I like where it is heading. I’m 66. Time’s precious nature is becoming more apparent, and I respect that. It can be frustrating to not be in the crowd, but I think we all benefit when we all respect our own and each other’s values. 

Now, it is time to sip my tea, post this post, deal with mail, and get ready to ride to the local cidery. I think they’re a B Corp (Finnriver Farm & Cidery) and host public events like tonight’s dance, a few entrepreneurial food spots, and provide places for kids and pets. (You see, there are times when eating out is good in more ways than one. Convenient? Yes. But they do something I can’t do: make wood-fired gluten-free pizza. Yum is an understatement. My apologies to my doctors.)