The Man Who Quit Money (Book Review)

This very readable non-fiction book by Mark Sundeen investigates an acquaintance of the author who, since they parted ways at high school, has renounced money as a make-believe conundrum that makes us selfish and self-centred.

The protagonist, Daniel Suelo, gave away his life savings, all thirty dollars, in 2000 and has been living on the generosity of friends, strangers and nature ever since. He was raised in a Christian fundamentalist family that still welcomes him into their homes despite his sampling all other mainstream religions, eventually settling on his own minimalist belief that we should all attempt to live as much as possible like Jesus--love your enemy, turn the other cheek, bless the meek--even though it is almost impossible to live in America without a "mortgage, property tax, home insurance, utility bills, health insurance and retirement savings", as listed by the author, who has yearned to live more simply himself.

Suelo lives mainly in a cave in Utah, bicycling and walking into the nearest town to dumpster-dive, use the computers at the public library, visit friends and volunteer at a women's shelter. He does not want charitable donations but takes what is freely given (shelter, rides, meals, food) and shares whatever he has. His wildly popular blog is www.zerocurrency.blotspot.ca but he has found it difficult to write much since the book was published in 2012 due to a stream of visitors. 

This book raises interesting questions about our modern lifestyle but his method of dealing with it all is not for everyone. As Sheila pronounced, as she checked me and my book out of our local library the other day, "He obviously doesn't have kids!"

"Or likely a wife," I responded, immediately recognizing my own predilection for a warm home, a reliable food source and electronic devices--all requiring regular inputs of cash. We were both right .

Welcome to the State of Upheaval

It has begun. My summer of living outside the confines of my normal, comforting routine is here. Behind me are the standard work days of a part-time payroll/bookeeper. Gone are the rituals of three meals a day, sleeping in the same bed each night, Tuesdays-are-laundry-days confines.

My adopted mantra for the coming I-don't-know-how-many months is: Be calm. Be flexible. Sit down and read something funny whenever the opportunity arises. And some time (well) before Christmas I hope to move into a brand-new smaller home with my marriage and good dishes intact. The new house plans, so carefully charted to scale with measurements and three-dimensional addenda for every possible construction detail, cover my entire dining room table surface. If only there was another table beside it charting how I am to get from this point (Let's call it A) to moving-in day (B).

While the internet is practically gasping under the weight of the home-decorating industry websites, there is nothing but hand-wringing when it comes to the logistics of a building-selling-packing-moving summer. And, of course, I understand why...no two builds-sales-quantities of possessions and moves will come close to being the same.

I know I am on my own. Even though I have a husband, I am on my own. He believes in the Moving Fairy. As I methodically purge and shred and pack and schlep away the detritus accumulated over two kids and twenty years in this location, his reaction is the equivalent to my announcement that his entire extended family will be coming to dinner on Friday: "I guess I should get some beer in."

It's good to know that the State of Upheaval is not a dry territory.