The sum of all my views on money - both the good and the bad

Donald MacInnes has collated the best and worst aspects of having, spending, earning and craving money

Donald wants a flash car but doesn't want to be like the men who have one (Rex Features)

At this time of year, our thoughts invariably and quite naturally turn to rebirth; warm, vibrant change to bring an end to the long, funereal nights, with their cold vestments and bitter melancholy. It's time to stamp the snow from our boots and stride out, whistling the theme from Beverly Hills Cop and smiling at the thought of our knapsack full of ham sandwiches and Quavers.

This feeling of optimism extends, of course, to our money and the choices we make. A time of change can also invite us to look back; to stocktake. So I have decided to collate my best and worst aspects of having, spending, earning and craving money. This will not take the form of structured prose ("Does it ever?" I picture my six detractors grumbling), but it will rather be two lists: Money Good and Money Bad.

Money Bad

1) The feeling of ornate ennui one experiences while standing in front of a 2p waterfall game in the amusement arcade. The fact that they have made a TV quiz show out of this makes me want to move to Neptune. 2) Supermarket loyalty cards. Swipe this, you grotesque monoliths of bad advertising and Terylene body warmers strained too tight. I shop here because you are closest to my house. That's it. Don't read any more into our relationship. 3) People who pointedly ask for "a coffee ... just a coffee" in Starbucks or Caffè Nero, as if their anti-latte Luddism, their opting out of what they regard as being the Great Cappuccino Deception, will somehow one day return us to a simpler time when coffee cost 25p and you put sugar in it, not hazelnut cordial and a handful of cinnamon. 4) Big flash cars. I want one but I don't want to be like the men who have one. So I stare and long. 5) Scratchcards. I hate that you excite me so.

Money Good

1) Student grant day. Every term we'd get a cheque, which we'd immediately take to the bank and cash, before crossing the road to the pub. For a delicious few hours I would be Johnny Champagne, darling of the Argentine underworld and king of the Tuxedo People. 2) Rich lists: they most definitely fly in the face of my socialist upbringing, but my goodness, they're beguiling. Harry Styles is worth how much? 3) Buying your wife something shiny from Tiffany's. Preferably on 5th Avenue in Manhattan. I strode out of there feeling like Foghorn Leghorn, I say, Foghorn Leghorn. 4) First Class air travel. Never done it. Totally crave it. My wife says it's lovely. 5) If someone asks you how much you are worth, being able to say, bashfully: "Oh, I don't know. It's all tied up in stocks and property. Wouldn't have a clue." So there you have it. All that remains for me now is to wish you good fortune, until next time. This is Donald MacInnes, signing off. May your wad go with you.