Austin, TEXAS, December 16, 2005 — I had lunch with a friend today. She was working from home so we had to make it snappy so she could get back to her computer and make 'progress.' (Progress is very hard to define in software development, quality assurance, support. And you don't always have to be in front of the screen to make it. But she needed to get back to trying.)

Still we decided to have as leisurely a lunch as possible. She doesn't live to far away and I picked her up. And we went to a place that wasn't far away. We didn't waste any time that way. And we went early. We were the first to claim an inside table in the rather small eatery called Vin.

It used to be called Zin. But that's another story. About wine.

Zin quickly filled up with West Austinites who don't work and maybe a few working people. At one point the place was full of women except for one man and two boys. And they had on sport coats.

We puzzled over the menu before finally choosing two courses each. We'd decided to have a glass of wine. (A speciality of theirs as their two names might imply.)

While I ate my cup of tortilla soup and my companion had a salad, we discussed this and that. I might have told her that I'd gone to the gym. Earlier in an e-mail I'd said that our lunch date meant I'd have to clean up after working out. So no sorting stuff in the filthy garage later. Too bad. Although this might mean I was left to work on the financial stuff that I was avoiding.

Over entrees, my friend said: "I want to be rich." I think she envyed me going to the gym and then deciding between cleaning the garage or doing nothing useful at all.

"I know," I said.

"It's not about the money," she said.

"You want the freedom."

"Yes. I would do the things I really want to do. The question is how much is enough?"

Money is an elusive topic. Cash is useful to buy things and pay the electric bill. And lots of people, particularly those younger than I (which includes my companion at lunch today) or single ones (ditto) or those not as lucky as I (almost everyone) have to do something day after day, week after week, to assemble the money to just get by and then if they are very fortunate have a little money left. They try to put together a few possessions, maybe buy a home. Everything takes money.

We have heard about people displaced by the hurricanes who "lost everything." They had little actual money to start with. They literally lost most of their possessions, maybe a home or a trailer. This guy, a professional photographer, took a photo of everything his mom and brother had left.

Last night, at one of the parties, a gay lawyer friend of ours was talking to us (we know him from some of our causes) and we introduced him to a mover and shaker in West Austin society. He thought he knew her. They were having that exchange people have over 'what do you do?' that question that means 'what do you get paid for?'

"I am a lawyer," he said. He'd already told her he knew us from causes. So this meant: "I make money as a lawyer. I don't keep it all, however."

"I don't do anything," she said. "I married [husband] and I've been very busy ever since." Indeed, she is on many boards, is a founder of local groups that would amaze you. This meant: "My husband has or makes a lot of money. His support of me means that I can do what I like and what I like is to do good in the community."

It's all about the money, really. Enough to pay the bills. Big step for many people. Enough to buy some things you really need. Furniture, clothes, a working car. (Ever notice how often the highlighted charity cases beg for a working car. It's hard to work and make money in America, let alone get the kids a decent life, without a car. And working cars aren't cheap. Sad.)

Enough money for some pleasures. Movies, even live shows, toys, gadgets, computers, books, jewelry, whatever floats your boat. The boat even. Very expensive. Enough money to not have to go to a job. I never envied people who didn't have a job. No, I reserved envy for those who didn't need a job, whether they had one or not.

You'd think that once you don't need a job and have everything you need and can pay all the bills and you have your house and your pleasures that it would be enough. But it isn't.

People start to think about giving money away. Making their favorite projects happen. If you can give tens of thousands a couple of times in your life, you think "I've made a difference." Then you see people who can give six or seven figures. Over and over. You envy them. Not for the name on the building or the newspaper reports. But for the power to empower their projects. You wonder why development directors even bother with you. And realize they only do because there are hundreds of people who can give at your level and, if they reach them, it adds up.

The thing money ultimately bestows is power. The power to change your community, your country. Some people try to do that by giving money to individuals. Some try to get a performing arts center built or a new building for the ballet company. Some give to museums or teacher training programs. Some give money to fight diseases. And some give to political candidates to try to bring a political agenda to bear. Some do all these things. And most of this is altruistic, really. With the occasional exception of the political donations. In the sense that people don't expect to get rich off their investments in non-profits. Tax breaks aside, most of it is real money.

So it is about the money in that how much you have makes a difference. Even after all your needs and wildest dreams are satisfied. But money is really nothing. It's really got to buy something before it's real. Before it's anything at all. Even if it's buying the security you feel that you can pay the next bill.