The burgeoning cheap-pride movement began on a back road in Accokeek, Md., with a goof named Jeff Yeager, who retired from Washington nonprofit work several years ago and answered the cosmic calling to be the patron saint of thrift.

In short order, he found himself on the "Today" show as a correspondent on issues of frugality, began writing about penny-pinching techniques online (www.ultimatecheapskate.com) and eventually snagged a book deal with Random House's Broadway Books. He recently finished the second leg of his book tour (by bicycle) for "The Ultimate Cheapskate's Road Map to True Riches: A Practical (and Fun) Guide to Enjoying Life More by Spending Less."

"Yes, we are cheap, but we are also generous, kind and happy!" goes the mantra of the cheap-pride movement, as Yeager, 49, details in the book. "We refuse to spend our whole lives making money we really don't need to make or spend in order to enjoy life!"

Now, Yeager's pulpit is mobile. Throughout his "Tour de Cheapskate," the Washington region's cheapest man cycled through South Florida, crashing on the couches of fellow followers of the frugal life and donating his book-tour per diem to public libraries. We talked to him about the practical applications of his miserly evangel.

Q. What is a good first step toward wresting oneself from the claws of the dollar?

A. I think this idea of a "fiscal fast," of swearing off the use of money for some period of time, is incredibly valuable. It's an original idea. I've done this throughout my entire adult life. Try to go at least a week without spending money. If you have a family, everybody ought to be part of the action.

Try to do it for all kinds of expenses: food, entertainment, clothing and, ideally, transportation. The great thing about a fiscal fast is it introduces you to what I'm preaching here. It's only a week out of your life.

Q. What about young people who are living paycheck to paycheck and may have student loans?

A. Even though it's written from my perspective — a middle-aged guy who's done well for himself — I think maybe the advice I offer in the book is most valuable to young people. The payoff is just exponential if you take that advice in your 20s or 30s. Like housing: Consider the novel idea of finishing in your starter home. Buy a house you like when you're relatively young, pay it off as soon as possible and skip this senseless upgrading to bigger, better housing. ...

I don't ever want to be too preachy, but I do think, with each generation, people's expectations about what they really want and need have spiraled upward. I'm not convinced that the cost of living has increased outside the range of inflation since the '80s. What has changed is people's expectations about what they need and want.

Q. In one chapter, you go to St. Mary's County, Md., and chat up the Amish. How do they inform the cheapskate mentality?

A. The Amish realized hundreds of years ago that, gosh, you need a little critical judgment here: Just because something exists doesn't mean you need to inject it into your life. Particularly with tech spending, Americans are of this mindset of "I'm going to get a flat-screen TV and an iPod; maybe I can't afford it with this paycheck, but I'm definitely going to get it."

It's about two things: the impact that mentality has on your finances — it's led us to have a negative savings rate for the first time since the Depression — and the impact that approach has on your nonfinancial life — you're chasing after something you can never get enough of, and it's not making us any happier.

Q. Tell me about the "money step," which is the bedrock concept of the book and an antithesis to the "Spend! Spend! Spend!" mantra of consumer culture.

A. It's the notion that throughout our lives, everything we think we want seems to involve this subconscious exercise of earning money to spend money to get what we want. We want good health, so we think that means buying a gym membership. (We need to ask ourselves), "Do we always need to go through that step?"

Q. The dollar is worth less and a recession seems imminent, so frugality is starting to seem attractive.

A. Cheap, as I define it, may be the new cool. ... It certainly has real ramifications for the green movement. Green is so hot right now. I don't understand how you can — if you're an American — embrace the green movement and not admit to yourself that it means you must consume less in your own life.

Q. You ever bump up against people who disagree with you?

A. The one that cracks me up is how quite a number of people say, "For God's sake, it would be the end of our economy" — that if everyone believes as Jeff does, the economy goes down the tubes. Give me a break. I'm one guy out in Accokeek with one little book weighing in against the 3,000 commercial messages we get every day saying, "Buy some more stuff. Spend some more money." I'm one guy with one book. I hardly think I'm going to topple the economy.