Excellent point sir. Touché.
Although there are a couple points to be made...
I'm making "extravagant" use of MY money.
He's still mooching off parents for his housing costs, as an adult, so he has the option to spend $15K on chasing a medical for recreation.
I doubt I could put my own kid (if I had any) on the street in similar circumstances, but my displeasure about their priorities would be well enough known, if one were doing this, that they'd probably want to move out -- rather than listen to me lecture every day about it.
I'd say I'm trying not to be judgmental of the scenario presented so far, but I'd be lying.
I lived in a cockroach infested apartment for a couple of years so I could afford to do other things in life.
I moved out after high school and yeah, a couple years later I did ask for a room with my grandparents after showing them a plan and offering to pay rent.
Grandpa wouldn't have it, but later when he became a widower I made it a point to visit frequently and take care of him when he refused to move out of that same house.
I worked three jobs with awful hours -- mostly late nights -- during the time I stayed there, as well as attending full time college classes.
(Continental Airlines Ramp Rat, USPS mail sorter, and Gas Station Attendant all at the same time with various other odd jobs thrown in for extra cash like helping repair and troubleshoot washers and dryers at a laundromat, stock chemicals and repair things at a car wash, and whatever else paid best at the time.)
I kinda get it -- jobs aren't as easy to find these days -- but I also get a distinct feel that you, young man, might feel those jobs are beneath you.
That might be just my imagination. But I've seen a lot of it. So forgive me if I assume it.
He's going to be a Doctor with a pilot's license someday, after all!
That's probably a bit harsh. But life is hard.
As far as the free room at the grandparent's house for a couple of years... there's an end to that story...
When he finally knew his time was short last fall, he hid it from me and my wife until we left town for a vacation, which included my wife being in a choral singing competition that he knew we couldn't just pack up and come home from.
You don't leave the chorus and head home on word someone's ill.
He called dad, asked for a ride to the hospital, got the confirmation that his cancer which he'd fought 9 years earlier was back, and then the part that was part of his plan, we all realized later...
He stopped eating. He was done. He'd had me over the night before we left and later I realized it was his way of saying goodbye. Made up some problem with his phone number lists he meticulously kept of the few remaining friends and relatives he hadn't outlived, which were about three people. Had me help him "re-write" the lists. He was really making sure I could read his handwriting so we knew who to call after he passed. The list wasn't very big. He lived to well over 90.
We came home, helped dad get him a room at my wife's company's hospice care, and he passed away a week plus a few days later.
I was lucky enough to be his last visitor the night before he passed.
He was unresponsive but I told him thanks and that if he was holding on because he was worried about us, not to be. He taught us how to take care of ourselves and did a great job.
Life's tough HIMS. Your story of woe about living in your parent's basement, headed for an illustrious career as a Doc, and having to fight the oh-so-awful system that keeps people with .15 BACs from easily obtaining pilot's licenses...
... just doesn't sound all that hard to most of us who've busted ass for everything we've gained in life. Many of us have already done it in fact.
Before I asked for the room with the grandfolks, I even tried my hand at living in a religious commune in Chicago serving the homeless community. They put me to work with a cutting torch on an outdoor fire escape that needed removal so they could replace it, in January. Coldest I've ever been. Lake wind, high humidity, blows right through you. I considered turning the torch on myself a few times just to warm up.
Also learned that there's lots and lots of folks even more worse off than you or me out there, as a side effect of working at a homeless shelter.
Some by circumstance, some actually by choice which was a surprise to a sheltered kid from the 'burbs.
Maybe your story isn't coming across well in text on the Internet -- but so far, but the admonishment to "Embrace the Suck" seems to ring true from here. Get over yourself. You have it good judging by your "complaint" list.
Yes, you've made better choices for your life since the DUI. Good.
Yes, there's still repercussions for the bad choice. Time to Suck it up.
Anyone who's experienced life and made a significant bad choice has had the same thing happen.
Not necessarily your circumstances, but similar.
Ask any kid who's gone to war if they wanted to, for example.
Ask the single mom if this is what she expected she'd be doing with her life now and how hard she works to juggle a job and taking care of her kid(s).
Want to hear my story of how to pay off outrageous credit card debt?
A few bad choices, years of Suck.
I see it as not a very big deal compared to the folks I saw waiting for emergency care at Cook County Hospital in Chicago, where I drove a homeless man who had his head smashed by another homeless man who found a baseball bat.
Ambulances were slow to our 'hood and he was amazingly, alert, responsive, and knew where he was. Miraculously he had a concussion but no permanent damage.
You could be him instead of you. Life's been kind to you. "Red", not so much. He still walked into the soup kitchen every day with a smile on his face and a hello for anyone.
Your life is already incredibly blessed, just by the bit I've heard.
Only a lucky few make perfect choices their whole lives. You didn't. I didn't.
But you're way way way ahead of millions.
Act just a little less displeased with your life circumstances. It'll reduce the Suck. You're creating much of it.
