THOSE who lack the financial discipline to save money always accuse regular savers of being cheap. In defence of such types, it is important to understand one of the great benefits of saving: the ability to splurge without guilt.Let’s say you’ve established the dull routine of saving money. It happens most months, more or less automatically, and you don’t give it much thought, apart from looking at your affairs a couple of times a year to make sure everything is under control.

You treat everyone you know well, except yourself. But every now and then, partly to encourage yourself and partly to prove that you can, you let the financial apparatus rip and buy yourself something completely unnecessary at great expense.

The splurge: there’s nothing like it. It’s a slap in the face to that part of you that knows better. It’s “I want it, and I’m going to have it, and hang the consequences.” You may recognise this kind of behaviour from your everyday life.

I mention this because I have recently splurged. A thing happened, and I had to decide in a split-second whether or not I would commit to an open-ended burst of fun that could be regarded as a financial catastrophe. Without a moment’s hesitation, I committed. I probably should be committed.

The thing that happened was news of a concert. Of all the music I have ever heard, that of Steely Dan, a jazz/rock band fronted by two musicians with a revolving crew of top sidemen, has resonated longer and louder than almost any other. With like-minded friends, I have spent hours deciphering the group’s deliberately obscure lyrics, but have never had the chance to see the band perform. They were out of business for 19 years, and I’m now in business and rarely have the chance to go to concerts.

Late one Sunday night a couple of weeks ago, an e-mail arrived, advising me that the Dan would play at the Hammersmith Apollo theatre in London on July 7 - 07/07/07, an auspicious date if ever I heard one.

I had made efforts to see the band, but they all foundered. The first had me booked on a flight to Canada the day the electricity went out all over the East Coast a couple of years ago. I missed the plane, which turned out to be good news, because the show was cancelled. The band is playing in New Orleans three days after the RIMS insurance conference finishes in May this year; I will have left the Crescent City by the time the band arrives. They’re also playing in New York two days after I have to leave there.

The idea of attending the concert in London, where I have influential friends who could obtain good tickets, was irresistible. I decided to go. I advised my London man to find tickets. He failed, completely and utterly, so I was forced onto eBay, where I bid without a qualm a maximum of $350 ($680) for a pair of front row tickets. In short, the tickets are mine, they’re front row centre, and I paid $312 ($612).

One big buy does not constitute a splurge. Any fool can throw money away on some dumb thing; it’s not a splurge until it spirals out of control. The splurge is the financial equivalent of farce: it doesn’t stop. The concert’s in London, so I’ll have to fly there. (I normally swim, to save money.) London means a hotel, and England means a trip to see my brother in the West Country. I’m suddenly looking at spending thousands of dollars, which constitutes a genuine splurge in my book.

My brother and I have been talking about a trip to France for years. What the hell, I thought, the splurge is on. Now we’re looking at five days in Paris and the Normandy hinterlands, Eurostar under the Channel, the whole nine thousand yards, as part of the summer trip.

I have no shame in this matter. It’s going to eat a hole in my savings programme, but the fact is I don’t care. I have set my behaviour on “save” and most of the time I do. Bad things happen and I ride them out, but the dull reality of my life is that most of the time, my nose is to the grindstone, my shoulder to the wheel.

This kind of attitude is, essentially, schizophrenic. I must have a split personality, since I approach everything this way. The switch is either on, or it’s off. You should probably adopt a more coherent strategy for life and its financing, but whatever you do, be sure to build into your plan a little room for splurging. Your soul will thank you.

crombie@northrock.bm