Thrift takes a break till next year

We've talked enough about avarice, and how those so-and-sos on Wall Street should spend the holidays breaking rocks. So let's move on.
Today's sermon is about thrift.
Thrift is good. Waste is bad. It's simple.
But there's a side of thrift we don't talk about very often, and that's what I want to discuss today.
Is it possible to take thrift too far?
A week ago, I was raking a pile of leaves that had sat too long in the rain. I came across a bumper crop of worms.
My son, Dash, and I sometimes dig for worms so we can catch fish. We fish for fun, not to cut food bills. We let the fish go.
Finding worms is a big pain. They're never around when you need them. Usually we end up driving to the local beer outlet, where they sell very nice worms in Styrofoam soup containers for about $3 a dozen. A couple of containers keeps us going a long time, as we're not really that into fishing.
Couldn't pass them up
Coming upon, literally, hundreds of worms was like ... Well, it's not really like anything, other than what it is. Store-bought worms are a good deal, considering all it takes to find your own. But when scores and scores of worms are right there in front of you, 10 feet from the back door, for free, how can you pass them up?
I got a 2-pound coffee can and dumped a couple of little squirmers in. Then I found some more. And more ...
These were perfect worms -- long, fat and slippery and full of vitality. Two or three hours later, I had a pile of them. A hundred ... two hundred ... Who knows? A lot. Enough to save six bucks a year in perpetuity.
But now what? Fishing season is six months away. How do we keep the little fellows entertained until then?
In the old days, you'd ask grandpa. Today we ask Google. By typing the phrase "keeping worms through the winter," I came up with page after page of sites full of tips on rearing worms. Most were from ecology-minded types. They talked about using worms to turn kitchen scraps into potting soil. A worm's endeavors produce something called "castings" that are very good for plants.
'Worm Digest'
I finally came upon a site called the "Worm Digest," dedicated to all the worm's potential contributions to humankind. Who'd have thought!
It had never occurred to me before, but worms can save us a lot of money. Clearly, sacrificing one of these amazing creatures for a fish you're going to throw back in the pond is a waste.
But as I read on, I began to have doubts. I began to question my faith in the virtue of thrift.
This growing sense of unease, of worrying about whether I had gone too far, came as I read an article by someone named S. Zorba Frankel. I began to wonder: Does one become a kook because he loses all awareness of kookiness? Is it like going deaf? Or is it possible to be fully aware of other people's kookiness but blind to your own?
Am I a kook?
A neuroses begins with the first step on a slippery slope. A friend of mine gave me a simple way to gauge the descent. If you check into a hotel and look at the diagram to locate the fire exits, that's normal, even though most people don't do it.
If you ask for a ground-floor room near an outside door and you practice the route with your eyes closed, you may need counseling. If you drive all over the neighborhood to find the nearest firehouse, you need shock treatment.
Drawing the line
Reading about worms made me realize: Thrift is good, sure -- but only to a point.
Over the years I've scolded you about spending. I've told you to change your own oil, buy used cars, pack your lunch, skip snacks and go without.
I feel bad about that. The holidays are here. I'm declaring a moratorium on thrift until I can rethink some of my basic tenets.
Thrift has its place. But there's plenty of time to think about what that should be -- in the New Year.
XJeff Brown is a business columnist for The Philadelphia Inquirer. E-mail him at brownj@phillynews.com.