This post was supposed to be yesterday, but we’d just returned from Fayetteville, Arkansas, full of good feeling, late and tired. Rather than run the piece I’d planned, let’s hit the pause button.

My daughter is going to run track for the Arkansas Razorbacks. It’s a top notch track program (four Olympians) with a wonderful coach. She’ll be in the honor’s college at the school. Three weeks ago we thought her running career might be over. Then she ran a 2:18 half mile. We called the Arkansas coach. Surprisingly, he agreed to meet with us. The entire time we sat in his office I was in shock. My daughter might be on a big-time track team. Now it’s real. She’s on her way to run in the SEC.

We found a restaurant called Hugo’s to celebrate when my son called from home (he had a major project due and couldn’t miss school for the trip). He’d received early word that he’s “probably” been accepted at Carnegie Mellon. The real process isn’t official until April 1, so we don’t know for sure, but someone we know told Nick he’s in. This person would definitely be in “the know.” At this point I’d be surprised if he wasn’t accepted.

It took lots of long workouts and study sessions for these two kids, so it’s a well deserved high five. Both of these “wins” mean more long workouts and studying  on the horizon. My daughter will have to train harder and run faster than she ever has previously. My son will be in one of the more rigorous programs in the country (assuming he accepts…which isn’t a certainty. He’s applied to NYU and has been accepted into the engineering program at the University of Texas). No matter. All of them are top notch schools with some brutal requirements.

But now the doors are open. It’s time for them to pause only briefly before they walk through. But we’re definitely in pause mode. Rest. Celebrate.

What is Money?

What is money? What’s it all about? Does it beat these moments? Does it create these moments? Is it just fuel? If it’s fuel, why the hell don’t we work hard to accumulate fuel for these big moments? Why do we waste them on irrelevant moments, like the time you’re at the supermarket and just “decide” to buy the more expensive cereal?

I think money exists for these times. I don’t care about spending a shitload of money on college for two of the people in my life that mean the most to me. Period. It’s why I saved. It’s what I sweated for. If I’m good for retirement (and I am) the one gift I can give my kids is education. I don’t want to rant on education here….this is about celebrating. I want to make sure we take a little pause.

Sometimes we work so hard to achieve so much that we just skip by these times. We cut the grocery bill and dinners out so often that when these big moments come we forget why we cut in the first place. We don’t mark them before moving on, or we make the event so “frugal” that it ruins the fun. Clearly, it’s important to save money, but these times….these captured dreams shouldn’t be trivialized. Every day is a new chance to create a new “glory day” so we shouldn’t sit in park forever….but I’m happy we celebrated. We took a ton of pictures. My kids are in a good place today, back in “move forward” gear. I think they’re in an even better place because we stopped to survey the mountain we’ve climbed so far.

Photo: twicepix

I was lucky.  I’d been warned about the hours.

The time away from my young family was a bitch, even in my last years as an advisor and sadly, many of those years are a blur (for those reading my stuff for the first time, I worked 16 years as an advisor for nearly 200 families at a time, and managed about $60M in-house, plus helped people w/ their outside portfolios of over $110M more). I spent so much time with my head buried on the task at hand that much of the “now” passed me by.

It went smoothly for me. The friend who’d referred me set me up with his boss and walked me through the entire hiring process. As a courtesy, he set up a dinner with the firm’s two top area managers at one of the nicest restaurants in town. I was sure it was to dazzle Cheryl and I.

The district manager, Jeff, was blunt that dazzling ME wasn’t the point.

“This meeting isn’t for Joe, because he’s going to be with me and we’ll take care of teaching him the ropes. This meeting is for Cheryl.”

“Oh?” she asked, wondering exactly where this was going.

“I want to answer your questions. This job is going to absolutely suck…and there’s no guarantee Joe will succeed. He’s going to be gone from home a ton. You should just kiss his ass goodbye for the next two years. When he is home, he won’t really be there mentally. Are you ready to be alone that long without him?”

Cheryl seemed like she’d been hit with a brick. We hadn’t been married six months. “Yeah, if that’s what he wants.”

“…and,” Jeff continued. “He’s going to work long weekends and may have to travel. Sometimes it’ll seem like he’s doing glamorous things, like golfing or taking clients to nice dinners at places like this one. Sometimes that makes spouses jealous. It isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. Frankly, he really won’t enjoy it like he should because it’ll be all about business…and that business is just money.”

What a sales pitch, huh? At the time I thought he was exaggerating for effect, but he wasn’t. I still believe that dinner is why I lasted as long as I did. To this day I still believe that being completely blunt when something is going to suck is the best course of action. I was the same with my clients. No sense mincing the truth. People perform better under pressure when they know just how hot the fire is going to be.

He turned to me. “You ready to completely launch at this? You can’t be half pregnant.”

“Sure,” I said. I was excited.

I Got Lucky: New Financial Advisor With a Clue

Years later, I found out that my introduction to the financial advising business wasn’t anywhere close to the standard practice. I still can’t figure out why it isn’t. Over the years I dealt with young advisors who were coping with working late into Saturday afternoon while their young spouses, girl/boyfriends, and families were out enjoying the weekend. It turned out, most of them had been told a pack of lies:

–       This is a job where you can come and go as you wish.

While this is true for successful advisors, that’s because they were already bringing home the bacon. The management team watched new advisors like a hawk to make sure they were internalizing the practices it would take to be successful.

Everyone resented being watched over, but I get that part. Like those movies where you watch guys turn into werewolves, it takes time to morph into the mentality of a self employed business person. I felt especially bad for the kids just out of college who’d had a few part time cushy jobs. They had no clue what hit them. Within a few months, I got it. If I was leaving the office for any reason, you can bet that it was because I was meeting a client, a contact, or had some important money making task on the line.

–       We don’t cold call.

Luckily, I started when we COULD cold call and DID cold call. I know. I hated making cold calls as much as you hate receiving them. But, it was better than what later people had to do. They’d participate in “fishbowls.” In this marketing device, you leave a fishbowl at the counter in popular restaurants around the area, offering a free meal for you and your friends if you place your card in the bowl and it’s pulled out as a lucky winner.

Guess what happened? Every single person was a lucky winner. The meal was free, but it was shared with the advisor, who would talk shop the entire meal. Sound like less fun than a 10 minute call? It was SO much more painful for all involved.

Another trick was the “friends and family” seminar. This was even more disgusting. The advisor would give a financial planning seminar for friends and family, to “get feedback about the best ways to find new clients.” Yeah….it wasn’t about finding new clients at all, except the people in that room. By the end, family members realized that it was a sales pitch aimed squarely at getting them to sign on the dotted line.

Family members were nearly always my worst clients. They knew me before I was an advisor (shit, some knew me when I was in diapers!). They didn’t value my advice. They were just nice enough to help Joe succeed in his new venture. When it came time for real strategies that worked (refinancing, paying down debt, serious budget changes…God forbid if they were underinsured and we had to talk insurance…), many balked. They were hoping they could just buy a couple mutual funds from Joe and everyone would walk away feeling happy.

–       You can kind of dip your toe and see how you like being an advisor.

Several young advisors were told this. I still laugh at people I meet who are “part time” advisors. To be blunt, there’s no way to be great at financial planning and be part time, UNLESS you’ve been practicing many years and already have systems built to deal with all the client issues that arise. There’s just far too much to do. If you’re hiring an advisor, do you want someone who lives it all day or someone with just enough time to meet with a few people you don’t know and sell them some stuff? It sounds good, but like “passive income” and other “something for nothing” schemes, if it sounds too good to be true, guess what?

It still is.

For more on financial advisors and how to pick the right one for you check out these great articles.

What is the Role of a Financial Advisor?
Afraid To Meet With a Financial Advisor? Here’s How the First Meeting Goes
Hiring a Financial Advisor: Clues from the Receptionist

Photo Credit: vmiramontes.

Stop focusing on bullshit and address your goals. It’s time to rock in your life. 

Early in my career a guy walked into my office and wanted to talk about day trading. This was in the late 1990’s when the hot new thing was buying a bunch of positions in the morning and selling them all by the market close. If you score a 1% return every session, you’ll pad your net worth significantly by the end of the year.

It sounds great in theory, doesn’t it?

Anyway, this guy comes into my office and says, “Check out this chart.”

Me: “What about it?”

Him: “Upside down teacup. This sucker’s goin’ to the moon!”

Me: “What’s an upside down teacup?”

I thought he was going to laugh me out of my own office. His face was all red, like I’d just insulted his mother. “Upside down teacup? See how on this day the stock makes a quick move up and then pulls back? That’s the handle. Now look. It’s heading up again but this time it’s gonna break through the resistance.”

Me: How much money do you need to retire?

Him: Huh? Retire? Crap, I’m gonna retire next year, using this! How the hell can you call yourself a financial advisor when you don’t know basics like the upside down teacup? Don’t you do any chart reading?”

Me: “No, not really. You have any debt?”

Him: “Debt? Who cares about debt? I’m not sure how you can help me. You don’t know the first thing about making money.”

Me: “How much money are we actually talking about here? What have you done with your stock chart strategy?”

Him: “What are you talking about? This is ridiculous. I can’t believe you don’t know this stuff.”

Me: “I’m just curious. How much money are we talking about?

Him: “I’m getting ready to start.”

Me: “You haven’t saved any money yet? How old are you?”

Him: “32.”

Me: “And you haven’t started yet?”

Him: “This will help me catch up.”

That wasn’t all. It turned out he had about $29,000 in credit card debt, too.

He didn’t want to talk about goals, the debt or tax shelters. It was all about the quick return.

People like you and I should have laughed him out of my office, shouldn’t we?

It’s sad how many people get stuck on irrelevant concepts or in fruitless arguments. We waste time and energy in places we shouldn’t be involved. Upside down teacups mean zip to someone with debt and no savings, don’t they? You and I will stick to the real issues:

– Torch your debt.

– Start building wealth NOW!

– Build defensive strategies to avoid getting burned.

…or we can use this guy’s approach and buy a lottery ticket.

Whatever. Just Focus On the Right Tree In Your Forest

I bring this up because a popular blog recently debated the semantics of early retirement. Apparently, Mr. Blogger has his panties in a bunch because somebody on the internet said he really wasn’t retired. Then follows a 1,000+ word piece retorting that, yes, in fact, Mr. Blogger really is retired. There are tons of comments and righteous outrage on the piece….comments like, “You tell them, Mr. Blogger!” People are oh, so, so angry.

…and about what?

I think the blogger’s brilliant, by the way. It’s not that he has a smart argument. It’s more that he’s built a whole blog post (and in many ways a whole blog) on an irrelevant argument (in this case his big “proof” that he’s right is because he has “the biggest blog about early retirement on the internet” … proving what again????) and the villagers are following with pitchforks and fires, ready to kill the heretics who dare cross Mr. Blogger.

It’s funny, and totally upside down teacup. It’s another play for the pedestal for Mr. Blogger. Yawn. He already has that pedestal. What about your own pedestal? What about your own dreams? Who gives a shit about whether you can live in the woods making your own furniture and still be called “retired.”

I’m going to start calling myself Superman. Does it matter what I’m called?

I hope you don’t see this as a Control Your Cash-style rant against any blogger. It isn’t. As I mentioned, I really like the dude’s considerable writing talent. If you’re striving for independence, though, let’s look at the forest and see the right tree. The correct tree has more to do with you and your goals than it has to do with anything else.

Whether Mr. Blogger wins a war about early retirement means nothing to you. Upside down teacups and ruby slippers won’t help you reach anything. Determining the steps to find and reach your own finish line is the right thing to focus on today and tomorrow.

You deserve to rock in life. Don’t get stuck holding the torch in a fight that has nothing to do with reaching your goals.

Love, Superman

Welcome to our new feature. This will play on sporatic Fridays (read: whenever I feel like it).

Thanks for all the great emails about the Diary. Like everyone who writes (on the internet or elsewhere), I get frustrated sometimes and it’s great to have a place to just vent, you know? Plus, I like being able to share a few of the “secrets” we’ve learned over the first year of operating this thing, and it’s been fun going back in the time machine and looking at stats from a year ago.

That’s all I’ll say about that topic, because I created the Diary specifically because I knew there were people out there who’d be interested in my rants….but it isn’t the mission of this blog.

This weekend we pick up a new table for our dining room. Buying furniture always is a struggle for me. On one hand, I like having nice stuff, but on the other, I don’t want to pay for it. Call me the opposite of the US Government! If I were buying on credit or didn’t have the funds to do it, I’d definitely walk away from the transaction. BUT I do have the money available, we really haven’t spent much on the home this year, and it’s a nice upgrade SO we pulled the trigger.

You know your life is exciting when you spend a paragraph of the blog writing about your new table. Par-tay.

In better news, five minutes from now a good friend is picking me up to fly in his new plane to Dallas to watch our kids swim. I’ll post pictures on Twitter and Facebook.

Let’s get on with the show:

Some Wonderful Reading

Let’s start with Glen at Monster Piggy Bank. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with Glen. I called him “Crazy Man” one time and he questioned what that was about….then he gets all crazy with the tattoos and work posts. Of course he’s Crazy Man! Do you think people should be discriminated against at work because they have a visible tatoo? Check out the post.

There’s major congratulations in order. Kim at Eyes on the Dollar has knocked out $30k in debt. Momma said KNOCK YOU OUT!

While we’re talking congrats, Holly at Club Thrifty will now post twice monthly at Get Rich Slowly. Hey, Holly, when you’re a huge star, don’t forget us little people.

In my favorite travel journal, Reach Financial Independence, Pauline tells an awesome story about helping her employee get a new bike…and then decide that he isn’t that crazy about paying it off.

Mrs. PoP from Planting Our Pennies wins my award for Best Analytical Post of this list (an incredibly prestigious award). Check out how she turns discounted cash flow into numbers porn for us financial geeks.

Sam Dogen writes a thoughtful post at Untemplater about whether we should bail out student loan debt. If we decide that’s okay, let me know ahead of time. I have twins starting college in a year and I’ll just finance it all with public funds…..

Speaking of Crazy Man (and a guy who won’t fight me when I call him that…he wears it like a badge) Len Penzo answers the question “Credit or Debit” that’s so popular at retail outlets everywhere.

Finally, if my blogging friends haven’t seen it yet:  My friend Sicorra at Tackling Our Debt gave the gift that keeps on giving (no, not fuzzy dice for the rear view mirror). She handed to bloggers everywhere some awesome tools to help manage their to do list, blogging tasks, advertisements, expenses and calendar.

I have about 30 posts by other authors I thought were fantastic this week, but in the interest of sprinkling a few highlights, that’ll be enough for now. Any more and it’ll be a list too long for you to enjoy.

We’re WAY Popular AND Modest

Thanks to everyone who tweeted our articles this week. I know I’m not great at the “hey, thanks for the RT!” posts. I don’t know how people find the time to do all the things they SHOULD do for others, get their blog written, hold down a job, and drink a case of beer a week. Sigh. Apparently people rearrange their priorities differently than I do….

Here are a few of the places that featured our writing or who talked about us fondly:

I guest posted at One Cent at a Time. It was about the rock band Rush and goal setting. Apparently that went over people’s head, because the post that I thought was my big winner of the week didn’t garner a ton of comment love. Apparently I’m not yet today’s Tom Sawyer…..

Cil Burke (clearly Dr. Dean’s better half) at the Millionaire Nurse Blog talked about how much fun we had playing board games at Fin Con in her post about surviving family functions. I was sure we were going to see liquid coming out of Len’s nose at one point. Can’t wait for next year to do it again. BTW, if someone wants a family game recommendation for the holidays, feel free to email me. I get tons of questions from family/friends this time of year about what the best option might be…..

Erin at The Dog Ate My Wallet and Kim at Eyes on the Dollar mentioned our post about dining and dashing at Pizza Hut. I love having friends who can reinforce my image as a reprobate…

In Closing

Thanks again for reading the blog this week! Next week we’ve got an awesome podcast episode on Monday, followed by posts Tuesday, Thursday and Friday.

Christmas eve.

You’d think my story would be about shopping or a family get together. Those have been nice (I tell an endearing story on today’s podcast). This one trumps them all, though.

We had a family….er….tradition. My dad would march my brother and I (this particular year we were ages 10 and 7) to the stores to get something for Mom on Christmas eve. Traditionally, stores would close at noon. Shelves were in disarray. Weeks of holiday specials created mixed bins of heaped colors and shapes. Every year we’d scavenge through holiday bins, looking for the right gift.

Let’s talk definitions. “Right gift” didn’t mean something perfect that my mom would absolutely love. Buying a gift with my dad was never about “Will mom think this is just perfect?”

It was more: “Do you think she’d be offended if we bought her a toaster?”

Shopping with my dad was a “How the hell do we get out of this mall” adventure.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? One year we barely made it to the store on time to buy my mom a gift at all. That’s because we decided to grab lunch first AND JCPenny that year decided to stay open until 2 pm….but let’s just tell the story.

The Story

To kick off our Christmas Eve “The Great Mom’s Gift Hunt,” my dad took us to Pizza Hut. We didn’t eat at restaurants a ton when I was a kid, so every time was special…and Pizza Hut with my dad equaled supreme awesome.

I barely remember the lunch. I’m sure we had the same sort of meal as always when mom wasn’t around…three guys stuffing themselves as full as possible. My brother would then open his mouth to show us his half-eaten lunch. My dad would scold him because we didn’t do that in our family. “Just eat it, already.”

My dad has always had a strong work ethic and is a straight shooter. While he didn’t talk a ton (I’ve made up for his lack of vocal effort), when he did, you listened. That’s because, while a horrible shopper, my dad valued relationships, honesty and hard work. I remember my dad’s retirement party as person after person walked up to me and told stories about what a big affect my old man had on their life.

But enough mulling over my dad. I have a story to tell, and after the meal was the interesting part.

The woman brought the bill as my dad was listening to my brother and I argue. I know I didn’t notice as he leaned toward one side to grab his wallet, then leaned to the other side. I do remember that my dad, a quiet guy already, became really still.

Then you could see an idea light up his face. It’s like the time you first figure out the little secret to something, like how the toilet lever works. Maybe you’ve figured out how to arrange landscaping, fix your bicycle, or sprung upon how to make the fish tank work. THAT “aha!” look.

Whatever it was, I remember The Look.

He Leaned Forward

“Okay, Tony. Here’s what I need you to do. Go into the bathroom and count to ten. Then go out to the car.”

Tony’s face contorted. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just go to the bathroom, count to ten, then walk out and get in the car.”

My dad and I watched as Tony, bewildered, headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later, he walked out to the car. We could see him open the door and jump into the back seat.

Clearly, in my mind, Tony had said something in our arguing to upset my dad. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was glad he was getting in trouble and not me. I was about to bite into the pizza crust on my plate when my dad leveled his jaw toward me.

“Okay, Joe. Go to the bathroom and count to ten. Then walk out to the car and get in.”

What the heck? I thought Tony was getting it, not me!

“Just do it. Hurry up.”

I stood up and walked into the bathroom. Then I counted to ten. If I’d been older I might have wondered if my dad was losing it.

Was I in trouble? Maybe there was something I’d done to upset him?

I walked out to the car and sat in the back seat next to Tony.

“Why are you out here?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Dad told me to go in the bathroom and then come out with you.”

Tony shifted toward the door. “I don’t want to be out here. I’m gonna get out and see–“

“Wait!” I pulled at my brother before he could open the door.

My dad was hustling out of the restaurant, face beet red and his car key in hand.

I couldn’t believe it. He got in the car and drove away. About a mile down the road he giggled (and my dad wasn’t a giggler).

“I forgot my wallet.”

Holy moley. My dad, the respected do-gooder in our town, had just dined and dashed on Christmas Eve.

We went home and retrieved the wallet from his dresser and still made it to JCPenny before they closed.

…and if you’re wondering, no, my mom wasn’t offended by the bath robe we picked out.

Epilogue: My dad gets embarrassed when I tell that story, so I’ll tell you the real ending. While all of the above is true, he felt so bad about it that later he went back and paid, explaining the whole thing. Luckily, because he told the manager everything, nothing happened to him (no police, etc.). That’s totally my dad, too. He hasn’t always made the right decisions, but when he made a bad one, he’s always been the first to go back and make it right.

…either way, I still think my dad should have exercised more if he was going to try a 40 meter sprint out of the Pizza Hut.

Looking for less devious stories of Christmas past? Check out Sicorra’s Christmas post mini carnival today at Tackling Our Debt.

Photo: Victor Solanoy

Looking for more stories of Joe & his family not quite getting it right?

Try You Have No Idea What I Paid For This Room, There’s Something Wrong With The Car or I Miss Checkbooks.