I was born in 1964 –the trailing end of the baby boomer generation. Unlike my fellow boomers at the opposite end of the birth scale (born in 1946), as a child I was not as influenced by the emotions of the war and the ensuing years of jubilee that followed. By the time I came to an age of understanding, such events were already written in history textbooks and to me appeared several lifetimes away. However, one sentiment did remain ingrained in my mind—the concept of The American Dream and specifically my birthright to experience it.

On numerous occasions throughout my life, I have reconsidered my relentless pursuit. Now in my mid-forties I have discarded the two-car garage, white picketed fence for other self-fulfilling interest. Residing in a high-rise in Los Angeles, I respect the fact that land availability is not as abundant as it was in the small town where I was born. Although remaining respectful for those who still embrace the dream, as I sat through another difficult evening of news with Freddie and Fannie being added to a list of potential causalities, I began to question the cost inherent in its’ pursuit. Simply put, there are too many stressed out consumers who epitomize the American Dream—the ability to buy things, things and more things. Now their home owns them –and their closets are running over with “stuff”.

My thoughts were further exemplified by a Marketplace report interviewing a family who had just purchased a new home. The new owner discounted the increase in cost stating that the pride he feels owning his home and his daughter’s ability to decorate her room are well worth the financial sacrifice. While listening I could not keep from asking the question—at what cost? As a society if we define freedom and pride as the inherent outcomes of home ownership then we cannot be surprised when people try to achieve such a worthy goal independent of the financial feasibility.

Returning to my thoughts about “The American Dream” perhaps there is another angle to the subprime mess which we must be brave enough to explore. It may be time we break the news to our children—the days of backyards, swimming pools and two-car garages may be coming to an end. I suggest instead we define a new American Dream to pursue—one about balance. The ultimate outcome would be to earn enough money to sustain basic necessities and a few luxuries while having time to spend doing the other things that really matter, whatever that means to each individual.

(My minimalistic approach was influenced by backpacking adventures where I have gained a new understanding of how little it really takes to survive. )