Alan S. Oser

It is important for me to have a little change in my pocket at all times.

I should have remembered this the day I parked my car outside a Polish deli in my neighborhood to duck in for a loaf of Polish bread. I lacked a quarter for the parking meter, but what are the chances of getting a ticket for ducking for five minutes into a Polish deli?

Pretty good, it turned out. That loaf of bread cost me $51.50.

I also know that it is good to have serious money in the bank as well as small change in the pocket. I did not learn this early in life, when in principle I scorned money and those who sought it. What was the principle? Basically, it was the idea of money-lust that offended me. It seemed vulgar, demeaning and ultimately purposeless. Money cannot bring happiness, and it might bring fear--the fear of losing it, or being exploited, or falling into bad habits. Even at a young age I preferred to be admired for my culture, wit and taste, not my wealth. I was in no danger on that score, preferences aside.

Now, I make a distinction between the desire for money for its own sake or for self-aggrandizement, and as a goal to make a decent life possible for oneself and one's dependents. Beyond that, wealth can be the means to many socially desirable ends, and can liberate its holder to pursue these desirable ends. It can provide the freedom to choose other goals. In generous hands, its uses can ennoble its possessor. It can gain him respect and gratitude. It can do good.

I am grateful to those noble givers who came to the aid of a noble cause of my own creation in 2005. I speak of a tax-exempt nonprofit corporation I organized called New Paths in Music, Inc. Its mission is to present live performances in Manhattan of music by outstanding living foreign composers who have had little or no hearing in the United States. In June 2005 we presented the music of eight dedicated but underappreciated composers from Portugal, Australia and Lithuania at our music festival in a church in the Chelsea neighborhood. Four of the composers appeared at the festival, largely at our expense.

Obviously, many other causes are even more enobling. Go to it, rich people.

I do not refer to my reader, of course, when I say "rich people." My reader is unlikely to consider himself rich. Few people do. And like me, my reader is probably critical of the way others spend their money. If they won the lottery, they would probably spend their winnings quickly and foolishly.

I, on the other hand, would use my lottery winnings wisely and well. I would work with my wife on a long-term plan. I trust I would find her willing to live on an annual income not much greater than we live on now. We would not buy a new house or a new car. We would invest our money intelligently, with a view toward long-term growth, keeping in reserve enough for a trip abroad once a year. We would make a plan for our children. We would set up a foundation dedicated to some worthy cause.

The worthy cause, so far unchosen, would not involve the advancement of worthy relatives. Let them win the lottery, I say.

The management of lottery winnings is not an issue that enters into many lives. More likely is a request for a loan from a friend or relative whose abiity to repay appears questionable. To my credit, I did not even consider his ability to repay when a friend asked to borrow $500 many years ago to pay for an urgent flight to Europe with his French wife, who detested life in America. I admired and trusted my friend. He was welcome to the shirt off my back.

Six months later he repaid me. Subsequently he became a distinguished and wealthy man, and a permanent resident of France. I forgot about the loan incident entirely until he reminded me of it forty years later. It seems he had been feeling a desperation I little suspected at the time he asked me for money. His gratitude lasted a lifetime.

Monetary considerations should enter into the major decisions of life as little as possible. Not at all, I should say, in the choice of a life partner. Somewhat, in the choice of a profession to follow. Somewhat more than that, in the choice of a job, assuming that one is fortunate enough to have a choice. A great deal, in the choice of a house to buy. Not too much, in helping a friend in need.

The hope of financial gain has been the entire consideration in my choice of stocks to buy. I run a modest portfolio through a discount brokerage. I once put more chips than I care to admit on the Sunbeam Corporation when a famous hatchet wielder named Dunlap was called in to cut expenses and right the ship. He fired people mercilessly to do this, and the ship sank. I lost all.

I have suffered many investment losses. I bought IBM near the top of the market years ago and sold near the bottom just before the market and the stock started a spectacular rise. I also bought the stock of a small pharmaceutical development company called Titan Pharmaceutical, which I decided for some reason would ultimately experience a boom. I timed the sale of that stock to its low point, too.

Such losses can be taken in stride. They are a common experience, and I've had some gains to counterbalance them anyway. Much harder to accept are the losses that result from witlessness, impulsiveness, or other forms of regressive behavior that the adult male or female should be capable of avoiding.

One morning in the 1980's I phoned my wife from work at The New York Times to inform her that I was on my way to Harlem, a dangerous neighborhood at the time, to interview two men for a story about housing. My wife was alarmed. "Don't take your wallet with you," she advised me.

Frankly, where I go, my wallet goes. But I said I would hide my money in my shoe. Accordingly, I removed my shoe and hid a $20 bill under my foot. Then I took a subway to Harlem, walked a few streets uneventfully, interviewed my subjects, and returned to the office.

I removed my shoe. The $20 bill was gone.

I cannot find the right word to describe the feeling that came over me. "Shock" comes closest. I phoned my wife to confess. She wanted an explanation but I could provide none. I was baffled. I could not remember removing my shoe. I had used only the change in my pocket to make the trip. I had not even stopped for lunch.

That night, when I undressed for bed, I removed my shoe hopefully. The $20 bill was still not there. Then I removed the other shoe. Ah ha! Mystery solved.

We may not make a lot of money in life. But if we lose through foolishness what we do make, we live with regreat. Conversely, if we spend money wisely and unselfishly, we give happiness a chance.