Why I’m a born-again budgeter - Nicky Rennie

Being tight with money doesn't mean being ungenerous, writes Nicky Rennie.

I used to think that the worst thing that anyone could say to me was that I was lazy.

Embarking on the process of writing about this (and a visit from my cousin), I thought that being lazy had a twin sister – being mean. But wait, there’s more.

I’m not talking about being mean as in nasty. I am talking about being mean as in “so tight that you squeak going into the turn”.

Or “so cheap that you peel your oranges in your pocket”. Now this is a fascinating topic of conversation.

Ask the question (and I did) in a group of people: Who is the most economical person they know?

Without fail, everyone in the room will know someone or live with someone, be the partner of someone or be that someone, who is Frugal Fred or Skinflint Sam.

My cousin was to be the focus of this column today, but when I asked the question in the office, there was an immediate candidate who usurped my cousin, and that is no mean feat.

This bloke is so tight that he got himself tasered by the police to avoid charging his iPhone (*Rimshot. I’m here all week, try the shrimp).

He has just come back from a conference and he nicked all the lollies from the venue and took the toiletries from the hotel room (standard procedure for those more financially minded).

He buys his food in bulk when it’s on special and then eats the same meal every night for a week.

This week it was nachos. Every night. For seven nights. My palate would have packed its bags, upped sticks and left for the mouth of another. He lived in his last house for two years and turned the heater on twice and he’s also never bought any woman a drink. Ever.

Now, while you may think this is odd, when I dug deeper to find out his motivation for this gem, it had nothing to do with money and everything to do with his personal values.

As a non-drinker, he thinks that it is morally questionable to buy alcohol for anyone if they are drinking and he is sober and he would rather someone were more interested in him as a person than getting a free drink.

Both are exceptionally valid points that actually raised my estimation of him.

My cousin shops around for deals with power companies, insurance firms, supermarkets and petrol stations (just to name a few).

Before you say “so do I”, my cousin takes petrol containers with her when she fills up on discount fuel so that she can put it in their second car when she gets home.

While she stayed here in Whanganui, she stayed in a youth hostel for $30 a night on the bottom bunk and a shared bathroom to save money. She is 56.

Her husband despairs, often, because as a successful businessman, he likes staying in lovely accommodation and fine dining with a good glass of wine. Not on her watch.

It wouldn’t be often that you meet a man who begs his wife to spend money on herself, but he does. It makes him sad but it quite simply isn’t important to her.

So, what I have learned about myself is that this may be more of a manners or protocol issue with me than a budget issue.

Will my co-worker and his partner take something if they go to dinner at a friend’s home? Yes. Will my cousin contribute in the same manner? Absolutely.

Will they give of their time to help someone who needs it, costing them their valuable time? 100%.

In the interests of transparency, I have to say that I was very relieved to hear this, because I was about to make a judgment call on their character.

It’s always good to listen and learn rather than listen to judge (look at me being a grown-up).

For me, I have learned that what I could have considered a negative attribute in a person is actually just them prioritising not to spend money on things that really aren’t important to them.

The thing that is important to me about them (and myself) is actually manaakitanga.

A beautiful word that means the process of showing respect, generosity and care for the people who use service, their whanau or communities.

When push comes to shove, I have decided that they are both welcome to wring their teabags out, re-gift a bowl they own as a wedding present or piggyback on their mother’s Netflix, as long as they live the values that are manaakitanga.

Phew, I thought. Now I can make my fortune simply by listening to them.

So, I am now officially a born-again budgeted.

There is potential now for me to be a coupon-clipper (if we had them in New Zealand), a super-saver or a penny-pincher. Call it what you will.

As I now have this newfound purpose in life, I will live by the following John Maxwell edict.

“A budget is telling your money where to go instead of wondering where it went”.