My brother Col is a tightarse.
So am I, actually, because our parents were tightarses and these apples haven't fallen far from the tree.
Our dad was a speTACular tightarse, particularly where clothes were concerned. If you saw him wandering around a supermarket you'd assume he was on minimum wage, despite the fact that he owned a small chain of pharmacies, employed 30-50 people, and at one point owned a literal row of houses like he was playing monopoly. (This became what is now Bundoora Square shopping centre, for anyone reading who happens to be familiar with the northern suburbs of Melbourne).
He *never* bought a drink at a service station that would've been cheaper at the supermarket. He *never* bought a car with electric windows.
I clearly remember him saying air conditioners (at the time a ~$2000 option on new cars) were a complete waste of money because "There's only five days a year in Melbourne hot enough to even use it, just wind ya bloody window down!".
Saving money on unnecessary conveniences and creature comforts was part of dad's identity. Even when his business took off, his spending habits in this regard never changed, because that was part of what it meant to be Tony Fink.
Family holidays, on the other hand... they evolved from camping in the Victorian high country with baked beans for dinner, to ski trips in the USA! Spending time with his family was also part of being Tony Fink, and the cost of that never bothered him, so more money meant bigger holidays.
Anyway, this week's Friday Fink Tank is about Fink tightarsery, identity, and remaining true to yourself.
Enjoy.
