Long Term Thinking
The problem with expensive tastes and habits is that they’re often more expensive than the initial sticker price alludes to.
You think a Lamborghini is expensive? Wait until you see what it costs to maintain one.
Same with a Rolex. Think that’s a one-and-done purchase? Wrong. It can cost about $2000 to service the mechanical parts every four to six years!
Wine is no different. Once you’ve committed to the idea of a wine cellar (the actual maturation of wine, not merely a place where you keep your daily drinkers), you’ll see how quickly the additional costs add up for temperature controlled storage and other unforeseen things like spoiled bottles and leakage.
Spirits, on the other hand, are easier to maintain than other expensive hobbies and the lack of additional investment is a big reason why drinkers are spending more on spirits than other luxury goods these days. Unlike wine, you can drink liquor as quickly or as slowly as you like once you pop the cork. Unlike a car or a mechanical watch, all the upkeep and maintenance has been completed before you purchase the bottle. It’s baked into the price upfront. There are no hidden fees.
Sometimes, however, I feel like the extra maintenance required of certain pleasures helps bring me closer to the hobby. It reminds me of the sacrifice I’m making for the luxury I’m receiving. There are times when I’m appreciative of how easy my spirits collection is to manage, but—like with my vinyl collection—there are times when I forget what what I have because I tend to spend without thinking as much.
As with any practice in life, you have to put the costs aside and think to yourself: What’s bringing me more happiness?
Driving the Lamborghini or the Prius?
Checking the time on the quartz Timex or the mechanical Rolex?
Drinking a bottle of 1989 Leoville Barton or the latest vintage of California pinot noir?
Only you can answer those questions for yourself.
I know people who torture themselves in order to buy a home, living in terrible rentals and putting their families through misery because they think owning a home will fix everything. Is it worth it? Ask them.
As for me, I try to engage in as many of these experiences as I can so that I can say for myself. I’m always willing to trade money for that wisdom (and convenience), even if I ultimately come away disappointed. That way I avoid becoming one of those incorrigible people who shits on expensive things just because they’re expensive.
Over time, you may find that your taste changes as well as your willingness to spend based on your experience. I’ve personally gone back and forth over the years depending on my situation. For example, I used to have a wine cellar with hundreds of Bordeaux bottles. Then I drank and sold some of them in exchange for nimbleness. I didn’t like being bogged down by all that inventory and I preferred having the cash upfront to buy bottles as I needed them.
Now, however, I’m thinking about starting up again. I drink far more wine than I do whiskey in my 40s, and I’m once again appreciating the effect that time in the cellar has upon Cabernet Sauvignon and Sangiovese. Now that I know firsthand what I’m getting myself into with the investment, I’m more clearheaded about the process.
I used to buy shoes that I could beat up and replace consistently. These days, however, I’m spending more for a pair that should last me a lifetime (as long as I polish them and store them properly).
In the end, it’s really about effort. Some things are expensive for a reason. Some are worth investing the time, money, and energy; some are not. But ultimately life isn’t a question of what is or isn’t worth doing; it’s simply matter of how much you care.
For me, the extra effort required for these expensive hobbies is actually what helps me determine for myself what I really care about. My willingness to commit to the upkeep should answer everything about my genuine passion.
-David Driscoll