Jil McIntosh: Rude, Lewd & Tattooed

Apple: Designed in California, irritating me here

You've probably seen computer giant Apple's latest television and print campaign, where it brays that its products are Designed by Apple in California.

It may be new to the company, but the idea isn't new. I'm sick of seeing T-shirts, hats, bags, and other items bearing big labels reading Designed in Canada or Designed in the U.S.A. Because the part of the sentence that's missing is ... but made in whatever country we can get to do it for the least amount of money.

So it's designed in California or Canada. So what? That employs a few hundred people (and good for them, really). But it's building something that makes a community strong: employing a few thousand people, along with the people employed at the suppliers bringing in the raw materials, and the businesses that benefit when those workers spent their pay for goods and groceries.

Apple might design its products in California, where workers enjoy bright and airy workspaces, fresh food in the cafeteria, plug-in stations for their electric cars, and benefits to keep them healthy.

But where are the products built? According to varies news reports, Apple products are made by people working long hours, for very little pay, in facilities that don't follow environmental safety rules, or worker safety rules.

Designed in California isn't a positive thing. It's a company preening itself about how great the tip of the iceberg is, without mentioning how rotten it is below the surface.

Remember this: any product that comes with a label about how it's designed in is a product that's hiding something.

What's a need? And what's really a want?

I was reading the paper today and came across a story on the high price of real estate in Toronto. That isn't news; the city is expensive, and I sure wouldn't want to be trying to find something in my price range there.

But at the same time, I also wonder how many people get in over their heads just because they confuse a need with a want. There is mention of a house that sold for $460,000, down from its initial asking price. The story reads, That's because it needs over $100,000 in renovations.

It needs almost a quarter of the selling price in renovations? Now, I'm no house expert, but I should think that if a house needs $100,000 in renovations, it must be structurally unsound, and possibly to the point where tearing it down and starting again might be more cost-effective.

Instead, I'm guessing that the buyers want to do $100,000 in renovations. I've watched the HGTV shows, and while I realize there's little reality in "reality" television, I still end up yelling at the screen when the young couple walks through the house and determines that a place with carpeting instead of hardwood, brown cupboards instead of white ones, or a wall in the wrong place is the equivalent of moving into a bayou shack that has holes in the floor and no glass in the windows.

C'mon, people. I like having a nice place too, but I'll be damned if I'm going to open my veins and bleed myself dry to have the "right" cupboards, and the "right" appliances, and the "right" room for the 102-inch television the day I move in. Buy the house, fix the stuff that needs to be fixed, build up some equity, and then look after things as you go. Sure, I sound like an old fart who remembers "the good old days." But I'm also the old fart who fixed the aesthetics a little at a time. So now I have a nice place and no debt, because I knew what was a need, and what was a want.

Money: Save for tomorrow, but live for today

I was reading a column in the Toronto Star by financial expert Ellen Roseman, where she tackled the common warning about savings: that if you give up buying your daily coffee, or your weekly magazine, or your Friday night dinner out, you'll retire with more money than Warren Buffet. Or, at least, with several thousands more than if you'd spent all that cash.

In Roseman's column, she mentions a new book by Kevin O'Leary, which states that if you save this "ghost money" - that which you fritter away on little stuff - you could potentially save as much as $18,400 over a decade. Roseman is skeptical of such a high figure, as am I. But even so, I have to ask: is spending "ghost money" always such a bad thing, as O'Leary says?

Perhaps once a week, my husband and I will stop in the coffee shop and get a couple of mugs of dark roast. Throw in a scone to share, and we've spent about $7.00. We take our coffee, grab a couple of overstuffed arm chairs, and sit for 30 to 40 minutes. We sip our coffee, enjoy the scone, and just talk. We talk about our day. We talk about the news we've read. We talk about - well, just about everything. For half an hour, it's just us. And it's really nice.

So at $7.00 a throw, we'll spend $364 over the course of a year. I wouldn't do it if I didn't have the cash, but I can afford to spend that. And I'm still saving for my retirement, and I do without some things so I can put more in the bank.

But I also work long hours, and before he retired, my husband worked hard, too. What's the good of working if you don't spend at least a little in order to enjoy yourself?

If I do live to be 85, I might well wish I'd put that money away. But I expect I'll be more likely to look back on those afternoons, when it was just the two of us, sitting and talking, sipping our coffee, watching the world go by, and say, "That was money well spent."

You have to look ahead and make plans for the future, but if you give up everything today for it ... really, what's the point? Money can't buy happiness, but sometimes, it can buy the little things that help make you happy.

Note to the government: If we can't spend it, don't bother printing it

My bank machine gave me a $50 bill. Thanks a lot, TD. You have now given me cash that half the merchants out there won't take.

I understand that counterfeit bills are a problem, and that if a merchant accepts it, he's on the hook. But if the government's going to print $50 and $100 bills, and banks are going to distribute them, then I should be able to spend them.

According to the Bank of Canada, "legal tender" just means bills and coins issued by the Royal Mint and the bank itself. If a merchant doesn't want to accept a bill, there's no law saying he has to do so.

So what's up with that? I have money issued by the federal government that merchants are not required by law to accept. Every time I think the world can't get any stranger, something comes along to prove me wrong.

Check out this site: Money matters and consumer issues

I've been reading Ellen Roseman's column in the Toronto Star for years, and only after sending her some emails did I realize she has a pretty cool website, On Your Side. She goes to bat for consumers, advises on finances, and just generally makes life easier for people. Check her out by clicking here.