What would your future-you have to say to you?
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
What would your future-you have to say to you?
If you’re like millions of people who saw Miley Cyrus’s performance at the MTV Video Music Awards recently, you’ve probably wondered what the effect of massive success on the music and acting star. Cyrus seems to be
doing everything possible to remake her image in the exact opposite of her squeaky clean mold that Disney and other companies have created for her over the last several years. (A rumor has it that Disney even created a contractual obligation for Cyrus to maintain a certain haircut during her “Hannah Montana” television show.) There’s a sense of someone taking on their first sense of independence, and running with it — the star seemed to be sending the message to the audience that she was not going to live according to the expectations of others anymore, and from the look of it, they got that message loud and clear.
The fact that Cyrus is barely into her 20s should tell you something about how much time she has to develop her career. She has enough to retire at an age when most people are just starting their first real job. And that is a tough position to be in. If she is hoping to push her singing and acting career well into adulthood — as most artists would like to — it may be that she is trying to make her mark now. Think of it a bit like Bob Dylan in 1964, releasing electric music for the first time, when before that point he was primarily known as a folk singer making gentle acoustic music.
Dylan’s idea may have been a bit like what Cyrus’ is. That is to say, maybe Miley Cyrus is trying to avoid becoming a has-been, a relic of the 2000’s who burned out playing inoffensive pop music. If this is the case, Cyrus may be able to shift her career into a different mode by showing herself to be an uncompromising artist. Remember that even the greats of the past — Frank Sinatra for example — were once viewed as essentially music for teenagers, and not serious artists. Sinatra even suffered career failure in his 20’s when his audience grew up and moved on to other things. But he came back to record success when he began allowing his music to mature and his ideas to gain focus. If Cyrus can pull such a move, she may not be remembered as a teeny-bopper, but as a serious artist.
This was a guest post I wrote last year to answer the question posed by the Yakezie blog swap, “Name a time you splurged and were glad you did.”
There are so many things that I’ve wanted to spend my money on, and quite a few that I have. Just this week, we went a little nuts when we found out that the owner of the game store near us was retiring and had his entire stock 40% off. Another time, we splurged long-term and bought smartphones, more than doubling our monthly cell phone bill.
This isn’t about those extravagances. This is about a time I splurged and was glad I did. Sure, I enjoy using my cell phone and I will definitely get a lot of use out of our new games, but they aren’t enough to make me really happy.
The splurge that makes me happiest is the vacation we took last year.
Vacations are clearly a luxury. Nonessential. Unnecessary. A splurge.
When we were just a year into our debt repayment, we realized that, not only is debt burnout a problem, but our kids’ childhoods weren’t conveniently pausing themselves while we cut every possible extra expense to get out of debt. No matter how we begged, they insisted on continuing to grow.
Nothing we will do will ever bring back their childhoods once they grow up or—more importantly—their childhood memories. They’ll only be children for eighteen years. That sounds like a long time, but that time flies by so quickly.
We decided it was necessary to reduce our debt repayment and start saving for family vacations.
Last summer, we spent a week in a city a few hours away. This was a week with no internet access, no playdates, no work, and no chores. We hit a number of museums, which went surprisingly well for our small children. Our kids got to climb high over a waterfall and hike miles through the forest. We spent time every day teaching them to swim and play games. Six months later, my two year old still talks about the scenic train ride and my eleven year old still plays poker with us.
We spent a week together, with no distractions and nothing to do but enjoy each other’s company. And we did. The week cost us several extra months of remaining in debt, but it was worth every cent. Memories like we made can’t be bought or faked and can, in fact, be treasured forever.
For those of you who haven’t been following along, I’m in debt. Starting 13 years ago, when I was 19, I managed to bury myself in debt, until I decided I’d had enough of that…almost 2 years ago.
Why?
It wasn’t because of college expenses, though they contributed to my debt level. I was in debt before I went to college. Heck, I was a daddy before I went to college.
It wasn’t because of major medical procedures. The only major medical procedures we’ve ever had were the births of our children, and we had two of them well after we built our shackles.
It wasn’t because we bought more house than we could afford. We own a modest house that we bought before the bubble started.
Then what was it? Why did we do the things we did that have financially crippled us for so long?
It was a combination of things, crowned by a glorious lack of financial sophistication. As I wrote in No Brakes, neither of us had the early training to really understand our financial decisions. We knew bills need to be paid, but what was the difference if the money came from a credit card versus our checking account? Why did it matter if we carried a balance on the cards, as long as we could make the payments? What’s wrong with just making the minimum payment?
Naïve. Unsophisticated.
That day-to-day lack of sophistication was only part of the problem, and it wasn’t the biggest part. We made a lot mistakes, but they were all small. Before 2001, I think our total was about $5000. Too much, but not painful.
Between the fall of 2001 and the winter of 2002, we took our naïve decision-making process and ran with it. It was a full-scale mistake marathon.
That year, we built an addition on our house, because a full dining room and a bigger kitchen would make our house so much more livable and it was cheaper than buying a home, new. Oh, and since the difference between the mandatory crawlspace and a full basement room was just a few rows of concrete blocks, let’s expand it. Wait, don’t bedrooms require walls, sheetrock, windows, closets, paint, furniture, and electricity?
That was also the year that the car companies all jumped on the 0% loan fad. In case you don’t remember, that was the program that meant you could get a 0% loan on a new car if you picked up a 3 year term on your loan. At 22, making maybe $45,000 combined, we decided that buying a $35,000 truck was a good idea. To save money. Rationalization is wonderful. Or at least, effective.
That summer, we got married. We did a phenomenal job getting married on the cheap. We had about 100 guests, a park to get married in, flowers, food, and a hall to eat and dance in, for about $3000. The problem was, we didn’t have $3000. We didn’t have the $1500 + activities for our 10 day honeymoon on a Caribbean cruise, either, though I still plan on returning to St. Thomas.
None of those individual payments were terrible. The biggest problem was that we piled them all so close together that we never had time to absorb their impact before taking on the next obligation. When we did realize how much we had to pay, we made up for it by only buying big things that came with a “0% for a year” deal, like our living room set, our carpet, and our dining room table.
Then, when we finally did pay something off, or came into more money, we’d immediately expand our lifestyle to fill the void. The month we paid off our truck, I got a significant raise. Did we use it to pay off some other debt? Of course not, we bought a new car on a six year term.
We had so many opportunities to make bad decisions with our money, and I think we took them all and have suffered for it, since.
If you’re in debt, what made you decide to get that way?
Last night, we went grocery shopping. I found a beautiful pork roast, just begging to come home with me. It could spend all day Sunday in the smoker. Rub some brown sugar and garlic on the outside, maybe use a mix of maple and cherry wood chips to turn my pork butt into breakfast food. Picture this: a beautiful chunk of slow-cooked pork butt, covered in a candied crust, falling apart at the lightest touch, and tasting faintly of maple syrup.
It was love.
This morning, I woke up, walked into the kitchen to make some breakfast, and saw that beautiful butt sitting on the counter. Room temperature meat, ruined by my negligence. $15 in the trash.
We got back late last night, and apparently set this wonderful piece of future-food down with the non-refrigerated items were were planning to put away later. We said good-bye to the sitter, chased the kids to bed, picked up the house a bit, and forgot about my new love.
I’m sad.
Here’s my advice: When you get home from grocery shopping, immediately put all of the groceries away. Let the kids juggle knives for a bit, if you have to, but get the food put away. If that’s not going to work, at least take it all out of the shopping bags so you can check your work.
There are starving kids in Iowa. Don’t let potential candied pork roast go to waste.
“Walk on road, hm? Walk left side, safe. Walk right side, safe. Walk middle, sooner or later, [makes squish gesture] get squish just like grape. Here, karate, same thing. Either you karate do “yes”, or karate do “no”. You karate do “guess so”, [makes squish gesture] just like grape. Understand?” -Mr. Miyagi
It occurred to me that lately, I’ve changed my day-to-day cash flow plans a couple of times.
A year ago, I was running on a fairly strict cash-only plan.
A month ago, I was running on a strict budget, but doing it entirely out of my checking account.
Now, I’m loosening the budget reins, and moving all of my payments and day-to-day spending to a credit card, including a new balance that I can’t immediately pay off.
The thing is, changing plans too often scares me. Like the quote at the beginning of this post, I start worrying about being squished like a grape.
The simple fact is that any plan will work.
If you want to get out of debt, just pick a plan and run with it. If that means you follow Dave Ramsey and do the low-balance-first debt snowball, good for you. Do it. If you follow Suze Ormann and do a high-interest first repayment plan, great. Do it. If you follow Bach and pay based on a complicated DOLP formula to repay in the quickest manner, wonderful! Do it!
Just don’t switch plans every month. If you do that, you’ll lose momentum and motivation. Squish like grape! Just pick a plan and go. It really, truly does not matter which plan you are following as long as you are following through.
This applies to other parts of your life, too. For example, there are a thousand fad diets out there. Here’s a secret: they all work. Every single one of them, whether it’s Weight Watchers, slow carb, or the beer-only diet. The only thing that matters is that you stick to the diet. If you manage that, you will lose weight on any diet out there. Except for the jelly bean and lard diet. That one will make you extra soft.
Another secret: the productivity gurus are right. Every single one of them. David Allen, Stephen Covey, Steve Pavlina, and the rest. They all have the One True Secret to getting the most out of your day. Really. Pick a guru and go! But don’t try to Get Things Done in the morning and do 7 Habits at night. Changing systems, changing plans, changing your mind will make you sabotage yourself.
The real secret to accomplishing great things, whether it’s paying off $100,000 of debt, dropping 40 pounds in 3 months, or tripling your productivity is to do it. Just get started and, once you’ve started, don’t stop. If you keep going and stay consistent, you’ll accomplish more than anyone who hops from system to system every few weeks.