Am I the only one who just noticed that it’s Wednesday? The holiday week with the free day is completely screwing me up.
Just to make this a relevant post:
Spend less!
Save more!
Invest!
Wee!
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
First, watch this.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_BtmV4JRSc
“It’s not about what you love, it’s about how you love it. There’s going to be a thing in your life that you love, and I don’t know what that’s going to be…it doesn’t matter what that is. The way you love that–and the way you find other people who love it the way you do–is what makes being a nerd awesome. -Wil Wheaton”
In the video, Wil Wheaton gets asked to send a message about being a nerd to an audience members newborn baby, and he does.
Being a nerd isn’t about pocket protectors, or D&D, or chess club. Being a nerd is about finding something you love and loving it no matter what.
My son is obsessed with League of Legends and Minecrack. I don’t get it.
I don’t have to.
My wife and daughters are all horse, all the time. I don’t get it.
I don’t have to.
Growing up, we got our first computer when I was about 7. Thanks to 3-2-1 Contact magazine, I started programming it shortly thereafter.
A few years later, we got a computer that wasn’t Apples green-on-green monstrosity. My first instructions from my parents were “Don’t break it.”
It took me three days. I was 11.
At 14, I got sent to computer camp. Soon after, I was up all night writing code. I remember getting questioned when my dad got up for work. “Have you been on that thing all night?”
He didn’t get it.
He didn’t have to. It was enough that he didn’t stop me.
My obsession–and my parents’ tolerance for it–eventually led to a career that allows me to support my family.
In high school, I discovered roleplaying games.
NERD!
The friends I made there are my friends now, 15 years later. I rent a room to one of the first people I played D&D with. He introduced me to my wife.
My nerdy obsessions have formed the basis of everything I love today.
When you are raising your kids, or shaking your head at something your husband or wife is doing, just be happy that they have found something to love.
Don’t ever tell them they can’t love the things they love, and don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t love the things you love.
It’s a sad day when kids stop believing in Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, and fairies.
Not because I enjoy lying to my kids, but because–on the day they stop believing–a piece of their innocence is lost. An unforgettable, valuable part of childhood dies.
Believing in magic is a beautiful thing.
Do you remember the last time you looked around the world with a sense of wonder? When seeing a puppy form in the clouds was a miracle? When the idea of an ant carrying 1000 times its own weight was something worth watching? When the impossible goodness of a fat man squeezing down your chimney fills you with hope instead of making you call 911?
Do I believe in Santa?
Of course not, but I believe the concept of Santa is worthy of my children’s belief. I don’t want them to lose that innocence and wonder.
When my teenager was young, he asked if Santa was real. I responded by asking what he thought. When he told me he didn’t believe, I offered to let Santa know. His panic told me he wasn’t ready to give up the magic.
The day that conversation didn’t cause a panic, he looked hurt, like he’d lost something precious. He had.
His world of magic was gone.
The he asked why I had spent his lifetime lying to him. I told him the truth. I said I couldn’t bear to be the one to shatter his belief in magic before he was ready.
Then, I informed him that he was in on the conspiracy. He was not allowed to ruin it for anyone else. Not his sisters, not his friends.
That Christmas, my little boy helped me stuff stockings, which was an odd feeling.
The magic was over, but we still got to share the magic of his cousins and sisters.
Last week was our family vacation. This year, we decided to keep it cheap, since we raided our savings a few months ago to cover my son’s vision therapy.
Here’s what we did:
Friday (Yes, I started vacation on a Friday): My wife worked a half day, then we drove to visit my parents, roughly 120 miles north of our house. $110 for gas, round-trip, and $10 for drive-through lunch. $120 total.
Saturday: We went to the county fair and Dairy Queen. $18 for admission. $30 for ride tickets. $35 for food and ice cream. The ride tickets were totally worth it. My son and I discovered that he can handle the fun rides, which thrills me. $83 total.
Sunday: We had a picnic at the bottom of Inspiration Peak, the third highest point in Minnesota, followed by a hike to the top. That evening, my brother, his wife, my wife, and I tricked my parents into babysitting and escaped for several hours of adult time. After a couple of overpriced drinks at a crap restaurant, we went somewhere nicer and cheaper. A nice dinner, a few drinks, and a round of drunken go-karts later, we spent $90 for the evening.
Monday: Back to the go-kart park for the afternoon, and the return drive home in the evening. The go-kart park included 3 rounds of go-karts, mini-golf, and a round of bumper boats. $40.
Tuesday: A hands-on kids museum, a natural history museum that was hosting a portable planetarium, and a teppenyaki restaurant. We used museum passes for the museums, so this cost a total of $160. By far, the most expensive part was the restaurant. The museums cost a combined $30.
Wednesday: We spent the day at the Monster Mall’s indoor theme park, Nickelodean Universe, where we tested my son’s ability to handle the fun rides for $70. Then we ate at the Rainforest Cafe for $116, and we got my wife’s anniversary present, a family portrait at an “old time” photo studio. We chose a 1920s theme. I must say, I look dashing in a zoot suit. $260 total.
Thursday: My wife had to work on Thursday because she was short of vacation time, so I had the brats to myself. We went to a pick-your-own apple orchard where we picked a large bag of apples, a bottle of real, locally-made maple syrup and 3 cookies-on-a-stick. Afterwards, Brat #1 and I went to a Chinese buffet and the comic book store while the women-folk went to a saddle-club meeting. $60 total.
Friday: We had a fried chicken picnic at the largest playground in the area, and otherwise took it easy. $12.
Saturday: On Saturday, my girls rode in a horse show for the saddle club while my wife put in her volunteer work hours. Registration and the food for the potluck ran $40.
Sunday: I had to teach a gun class, so I made money, instead of spending it. My wife and kids played around the house.
Total, our vacation cost us $865, for 10 days of memories. If we would have skipped the restaurants, it would have cost $465, but we wanted those experiences, too. Our vacation fund has $906 in it, so we did all right.
What has happened to this week? It’s already Friday afternoon, and I’m short a post today. Since I skipped the link roundup last week while I was off with family, I’ll do it early this week and cheat you out of a real post today.
Finance links:
I enjoy trying new foods and eating out. Christian PF provides tips on doing that frugally.
Trent talks about “Family Dinner Night”. Invite a bunch of friends over to help prep and eat a buffet-style meal. Good time for everyone on the cheap.
Free Money Finance shares his 14 Money Principles.
MoneyNing shares how to buy school supplies for less.
Miscellaneous links:
Netflix just volunteered to shaft its customers again. There’s a 28 day wait to get most new releases, now. If I didn’t have almost 500 movies in my queue, I’d be royally ticked.
Mother Earth News has plans for a smoker/grill/stove/oven. I’d love to build a brick oven with a grill and smoker. A complete, wood-fired cooking center would be perfect for my house.
Major kitchen cleaning on Lifehacker. We’re doing this tomorrow, as part of our April Declutter.
That’s the highlight of my trip around the internet this week.
My favorite book series is the Sword of Truth by Terry Goodkind. It’s a good sword-and-sorcery, good-versus-evil fantasy.
But I’m not here to talk about that series. Rather, I’m going to talk about one particular scene in book 6, Faith of the Fallen.
There’s a scene where Richard, the protagonist, ends up in a socialist workers’ paradise, where the government controls distribution and everybody is starving. Jobs are hard to come by, because everything is unionized and unions control access to work. That’s a non-accidental parallel to every country that has embrace socialist principles, or even leans that way. Go open a business with employees in France, I dare you.
So Richard goes out of his way to help someone with no expectation of reward. This person then offers to vouch for him at the union meeting, effectively offering him a job.
This is the conversation that follows:
Nicci shook her head in disgust. “Ordinary people don’t have your luck, Richard. Ordinary people suffer and struggle while your luck gets you into a job.”
“If it was luck,” Richard asked, “then how come my back hurts?”
If it was luck, how come my back hurts?
Seneca, a 2000-year-dead Roman philosopher said, “Luck is where the crossroads of opportunity and preparation meet.”
I won’t lie, I’ve got a pretty cushy job. I make decent money, I work from home, I love my company’s mission, and I kind of fell into the job.
By fell into, I mean:
That’s 25 years and tens of thousands of dollars spent earning my luck. How come my back hurts?
I have a friend on disability. He has a couple of partially-shattered vertebrae in his back, but he keeps pushing off the corrective surgery because the payments would stop after he heals. He refuses to get a regular job, because his payments would stop. He lives on $400 per month and whatever he can hustle for cash, and he will make just that until the day he dies. And he complains about his bad luck.
His back literally hurts, but not metaphorically. His bad luck is the product of deliberately holding himself down to keep that free check flowing.
I have another friend who made some bad decisions young. Some years ago, he decided that was over. He took custody of his kid and started a business that rode the housing bubble. When the bubble popped, so did his business. Instead of whining about his luck, he worked his way into an entry-level banking job.
He put in long (long!) hours, bending over backwards to help his customers and coworkers, and managed a few promotions, far earlier than normal. His coworkers whined about it. He’s so lucky. If it was luck, why does his back hurt?
We make our own luck.
If you bust your ass, working hard and helping people–your coworkers, your customers, your friends, your neighbors–and you are willing to seize an opportunity when it appears, you will get ahead. When you do, the people around you who do the bare minimum, who refuse–or are afraid–to seize an opportunity, who always ask what’s in it for them, they will will whine about your luck.
When they do, you will get to ask, “If it was luck, how come my back hurts?”