Some days, we walk along Drayton Harbor on the bay north of ours. On one side of the harbor, a narrow spit goes about a mile with Boundary Bay on one side and the harbor on the other. At the end of the spit are some costly condominiums, a resort hotel, and a marina. I’m not exactly sure how the marina works, but some slips are rented on long-term leases and others are available for rent by transient boats. On the other side of the harbor, there is another marina. That one is home to fishing boats that go out from the harbor, but it is also home to some high-end recreational yachts. I can identify a few boats that have been featured on YouTube videos that I have watched, so I know that they have multiple staterooms and other amenities. As we were walking the other day, I noticed a brand-new yacht sitting on wooden cribbing in front of a broker’s office. I’m not sure how the ship got to its present location. It looks as if it is too wide to have arrived on a semi-truck over the highways. It could have been sailed into the marina, where a large travel lift could support it on slings and carry it to its present location. But it wouldn’t make sense to take the boat out of the water to display it, so I suppose it was trucked in and put on display, and will be launched when it is sold. I’m sure the yacht has more bedrooms and bathrooms than our home. I’m sure the price is much more than our home’s value. I wonder who might be customers for such a vessel. I know I wouldn’t want to have to turn over my credit card the first time it pulls up to the fuel dock and begins to transfer $4 diesel into its 800-gallon expedition tanks.

There are lots of expensive things in this world that don’t attract me. I have no need for a luxury automobile or more than one home to maintain. I enjoy going out for dinner on occasion, but have no desire to do so every day. I love airplanes and grew up thinking I would always own one, but learned when our children were little that not having the stress and expense of annual maintenance is a form of liberation.

I do, however, enjoy a fair amount of luxury in my life. I am retired and am supported by an annuity and social security that provide a monthly income. Not having to work at a regular job is a luxury that some can never afford. I have two reliable vehicles. When one needs repairs, we can drive the other. When one of us goes one direction and the other goes another, we can each drive our vehicle. I watch people at the bus stop who have to spend much time waiting to travel for basic needs.

Another luxury of my life is that I go to the grocery store when I want and buy what I want. In a world where millions of children face food insufficiency, where starvation is a weapon of war, and where people have to choose between medicine and food, having enough money in the bank to fill my grocery list on each trip to the store is a luxury.

Yesterday, I bought mandarin oranges and a yellow watermelon just because I wanted to. Our grandchildren all love fruit, and our stores have a vast selection. I had never before tried a yellow watermelon and had a lot of fun watching the grandchildren’s surprise at the color of the fruit when they expected to see red. I know the watermelon was more expensive than usual. I could have fed our grandchildren fruit at a lower cost, but I wanted to have something fancy.

I cooked on the grill and we ate on our patio last night. We put a basket of the tiny oranges in the middle of the table and watched with amusement as our youngest grandson ate two in a row. He’d take one, hand it to his father, and ask his father to “open it, please.” When it was peeled, he devoured it and took another. When his father said, “Two is enough, eat some of your meat and sweet potatoes,” he took half of his sister’s orange off her plate and popped it into his mouth. When the basket was moved down to the other end of the table, he got down from his seat, walked to the end, crawled up next to me, and grabbed another orange from the basket. Then he returned to his seat, handed the orange to his father, and asked him to “open it, please.”

He had some other food, but his dinner mainly consisted of fruit. After dinner, when the watermelon was sliced, I saw him eat his, grab his sister's, and take several bites out of it.

I’m the grandpa and don’t have to enforce the rules. I know his father and mother keep track of what he eats and make sure that he gets proper nutrition. I don’t need to worry when he eats a lot of fruit at our house. I can simply be amused. I laughed at his behavior, which probably encouraged him. I would act quickly if he were in danger, but I can indulge him when he wants another piece of fruit. His parents provide the discipline he needs.

At the end of the evening, I crawled into bed with a smile and the memory of a three-year-old sticky with fruit juice all over his face. I could complain about the high cost of groceries, but I got a lot of pleasure out of my spending. It brought me much more joy than owning that yacht will bring the person who buys it. I’ll leave the luxury purchases to others and splurge at the grocery store. A big boat is nowhere near as much fun as happy grandchildren.