Search Results for “three-alternatives-to-a-budget/brown-bagging-your-way-to-savings/budget-lesson-part-3/budget-lesson-part-5/subscribe-by-email/budget4/budget-lesson-part-2/Clearing Up Social Debt in 3 Steps/budget-lesson-part-1/money-problems-day-1-setting-goals/questions-from-a-reader” — Page 94

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-06-05

Working on my day off and watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. #
Sushi-coma time. #
To all the vets who have given their lives to make our way of life possible: Thank you. #
RT @jeffrosecfp: While you're grilling out tomorrow, REMEMBER what the day is really for http://bit.ly/abE4ms #neverforget #
Once again, taps and guns keep me from staying dry-eyed. #
RT @bargainr: Live in an urban area & still use a Back Porch Compost Tumbler to fertilize your garden (via @diyNatural) http://bit.ly/9sQFCC #
RT @Matt_SF: RT @thegoodhuman President Obama quietly lifted a brief ban on drilling in shallow water last week. http://bit.ly/caDELy #
Thundercats is coming back! #
In real life, vampires only sparkle when they are on fire. -Larry Correia #
Wife found a kitten abandoned in a taped-shut box. Welcome Cat #5 #

Disclosure

I’m not terribly commercial, but I do enjoy making money.

As such, it is safe to assume that any company, entity, corporation, person, place, thing, or other that has a product, service, post, or link has in some way compensated me for said product, service, post or link. That compensation–direct or indirect–may be in the form of money, swag, free trips, gold bullion, smurf collectibles, super-models, or just warm-fuzzies. That list is NOT in order of preferred method of compensation.

To reiterate: If it’s commercial, and it’s here, I’m probably being paid for it.

Selling Your Car

Finance

: English: Jalopy car in Joshua Tree National Park in Hidden Valley Campground (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When it’s time to replace your car, most people focus on the new car, instead of the old, but that is ignoring real money. Your old car–unless it has disintegrated–still has value. Sometimes, it’s just time to ask yourself, “When should I sell my car?”

When you’re looking to sell your car (like with We Will Buy Your Car), you generally have several options:

Tow & crush. If your car has been wrecked, doesn’t run, or is just old and beat up, you may be stuck with calling a junkyard and accepting $50 for them to pick up your car and crush it for scrap.
Trade it in. This is probably the least hassle, but–other than #1–doesn’t pay well. Dealerships are willing to pay something under what they will get at a wholesale auction, which is quite a bit less than the blue book value.
Sell it yourself. Now you’re thinking, “He’s going to buy my car! Oh, bother.” It can be a pain, but it’s also the best way to get a decent price for your wheels.

When you sell your car, there are a few things to keep in mind, much like when you sell something on Craigslist.

Don’t be alone. There are bad people in the world, but they don’t like witnesses. Bad things are much less likely to happen if you have company.
Know your price. Specifically, know three price: your dream price, the price that would make you happy, and the absolute lowest price you are willing to accept. Make sure you figure these numbers out ahead of time. Know what you are comfortable with before it comes time to close the deal.
Check IDs. The buyer is going to want to test-drive your car. That’s fine, but you want to make sure you know who is driving off in your car. “Officer, Sumdood took my car. He was wearing jeans.” That won’t get your car back.
Clean it up. Get the car detailed before you show it to a potential buyer. A sparkling-clean car will almost always bring in a few hundred extra dollars. It’s well worth the expense.

Following this plan should make the sale go as smoothly as possible and bring you the most possible money.

Readers, what have you done to dispose of an old car?

This is a sponsored post written to provide some insight into the world of used car retail.

Unlicensed Health “Insurance”

Finance

Gibraltar monkey — Image by Salim Virji via Flickr

Health insurance is–without a doubt–expensive.

As much as I hate the idea of socialized health care, it does have one shiny selling point to counter its absolute immorality: it’s cheap. Assuming, of course, you ignore the higher taxes and skewed supply/demand balance.

Here in the US, we’re free from that burdensome contrivance. Instead, we have health care and health insurance industries that are heavily regulated and ultimately run by people who have A) never held a job outside of government or academia, and B) have no idea how to run either a hospital or a business. That works so much better. Some days, I think our health system would be better run by giving syringes and band-aids to drunken monkeys. The high-level decision making wouldn’t be worse.

Thanks to that mess and the high unemployment rate that somehow hasn’t been remedied by the 27 bazillion imaginary jobs that have been save or created in the last 2 years, some people are hurting. Not the poor. We have so many “safety net” programs that the poor are covered. I’m talking about the “too rich to be considered poor, but too poor to be comfortable”, the middle class.

If are much above the poverty line, you will stop qualifying for some of the affordable programs. The higher above the line you go, the less you qualify for. That makes sense, but the fact that we have so many safety net programs means there is a lot of demand created by all of the people who are getting their health care “free”.

That drives the prices up for the people who actually have to pay for their own care. Yes, even if you have an employer-sponsored plan, you are paying for the health insurance. That insurance is a benefit that is a part of your total compensation. If employers weren’t paying that, they could afford higher wages.

As the price goes up, employers are moving to a high-deductible plans, which puts a squeeze on the employees’ budgets. Employees–you and I, the people who actually have to pay these bills–are looking for ways to save money on the care, so they can actually afford to see a doctor.

In response to that squeeze, some unscrupulous people(#$%#@%! scammers) are capitalizing on the financial pain and selling “health discount plans” which promise extensive discounts for a cheap membership fee. These plans are not insurance. In a best-case scenario, the discount plans will get you a small discount from a tiny network of doctors and clinics. Prescription drug plans are no better. You may get a 60% discount, but only if you use a back-alley pharmacy in Nome, Alaska between the hours of 8 AM and 8:15 AM on January 32nd of odd leap years.

How can you tell it’s a scam?

The scammers will try to sell you on false scarcity. They’ll say the plan is filling up fast and you have to buy now if you want to get in on it. For all major purchases, if you aren’t going to be allowed time to research your options, assume it’s a scam. Good deals won’t evaporate.

They aren’t licensed. Call the Department of Commerce for your state and see if the company is a licensed insurance provider. Pro tip: they aren’t.

They don’t want you to read the plan until after you’ve paid. That’s a flashing, screaming, electro-shock warning sign for anything. Once you’ve given them your money, your options are reduced.

The price is amazingly low. Of course it is. They aren’t actually providing any services, so their overhead is nonexistent. They only have to pay for gas to get to the bank to cash your checks.

Really, the best way to judge if something is a scam is to go with your gut. Does it feel like a scam? Do you feel like you’re getting away with something? Does it sound too good to be true?

To recap: health care/prescription discount plans = bad juju.

How to Build a Business on Cannibalism

Business

Last week, my wife posted on Facebook that she was frustrated with her job hunt.

HUFU: The healthy human flesh alternative.

An hour later, she got a call from someone she hadn’t talked to in 10 years. He wanted to talk about a great business opportunity. He wouldn’t say what it was, but wanted to bring a friend over to discuss it.

Fast forward to last night.

The night my wife agreed to meet with the old friend.

The meeting we forgot about.

So we invited our friend and his friends into the house. We sat down at the dining room table to hear the pitch. Our friend is just getting started so his “friend” delivered the pitch.

While I was waiting for him to explain the business, he was showing us pictures of he and his wife traveling around the country.

Instead of explaining the product, he asked about our most expensive dreams.

Instead of telling us how the marketing worked, he mentioned something about utilizing the internet–and i-Commerce–and talked about changing our buying habits.

Instead of showing us a product, he talked about driving volume and building a team.

There was nothing concrete, but a lot was said to ride on the dreams of people who are frustrated with their income or are living paycheck-to-paycheck.

More than an hour into the presentation, it was revealed that the “product” is a buying portal to allow people to buy Amway products from your personal Amway store.

Freaking Amway.

How do they find your personal Amway store, you ask? I don’t know, because you are supposed to be your own best customer. You make money by buying the products you use anyway, but buy them from Amway. For example, there’s the $10 toothbrush, the $16 baby wipes, or the $38 toilet paper.

For six frickin’ rolls.

Seriously, this stuff is meant to touch my butt once. I don’t need it made from pressed gold.

As for the visual…you’re welcome!

So I sell a kidney to buy enough toilet paper to keep my nether bits clean for a month and I get one point for every $3 I spend. I figure that’s about 50 points per month, given the foot traffic our bathrooms see.

If I hit 100(I think, he didn’t leave the paperwork) points, I get 6%(again, I wasn’t taking notes) back at the end of the next month. For the sake of the math, I’m going to double the number of butts in my house. 100 points means I need to spend $300. That’s 47 rolls of toilet paper. In exchange for this $300–and on top of gold-embroidered silk I now get to flush down the toilet–I’ll earn $18.

I know exactly how much toilet paper I buy right now. Amazon sends me a 48 roll package every other month for $31.42, shipped.

To simplify, Amway is offering me the ability to spend $300 to get $18 plus $31.42 worth of toilet paper. I’m supposed to end my financial worries by turning $300 into $50 every month.

Yay!

[Note to self: Demolish Amway’s business model by starting a company that will let people turn $200 into $50, without the nasty overhead of stocking overpriced crap. A 33% increase in efficiency will make me rich!]

But wait, say the imaginary Amway proponents that I hope aren’t frequenting my site, you’re forgetting the most important part!

Oh really?

There’s also a thing called a “segmented marketing team”. To the rest of the multi-level marketing world, this is known as your downline. If you can con your family and friends into turning their $300 into $50 every month, then help them con their family and friends into turning $300 into $50 every month, you’ll get rich! Amway has apparently figured out a way to share a small fraction of their 600% markup with their victims to make them feel like it’s a business opportunity instead of a robbery.

If I get 9 people in my “business team” and each of them build out their team, I get the coveted title of “Platinum Master” or whatever. All I have to do is sell the souls of 72 people and I can make a ton of money! If each member of my downline turns $300 into $50, Amway will get $18,000. In exchange for delivering those souls, the “average” Platinum Ninja makes about $4500 per month. That’s about $12,000–free and clear–for Amway.

When your business model consists entirely of your sales force doing all of the buying and consuming, it’s not a business model, it’s cannibalism.

Power

Finance, Life

At 8PM Friday night, our power went out.

We had 70 MPH straight-line winds and horizontal rain. Trees came down all over the neighborhood. Two houses down, 3 tree played dominoes, creaming the house, the fence, and two cars.

How did we do?

The skeleton I keep hanging in my tree lost its right shin-bone and we lost power. So did 610,000 other people in the area.

It’s interesting to watch what happens when the power goes out.

I’m assuming every generator in the area sold out. I don’t know, because I already had one. I do know that most of the gas stations near me ran out of gas on Saturday. Most places were out of ice, too. Batteries were hard to scrounge.

The restaurants that either didn’t lose power or had backup generators were raking in money all weekend. Sunday morning, McDonald’s had a line of cars backed up an entire block.

Our power came back on Monday night. 74 hours of living in the dark ages. We had to read books on paper and cook all of our food on the grill.

We did okay. A few years ago, when the power went out for a day, I bought a generator. Saturday morning, I finally had a reason to take it out of the box.

The generator cost me $450. Over the weekend, we put about $40 worth of gas into it. That kept our refrigerator and freezer running, saving at least $5-600 worth of food. Two neighbors filled up our available freezer space, so that’s another $200 worth of food that didn’t die.

That’s a $500 investment to save nearly $800 worth of food.

Pure win.

The generator also allowed us to keep a couple of fans running, which is great when the power goes out when it’s 90 degrees outside. We also fired up the TV and DVD player at night to help the kids settle down for bed. This is one time I was glad to have an older TV, because cheap generators don’t push out a clean electricity that you can safely use to run nice electronics.

We have a couple of backup batteries for our cell phones, so we got to stay in touch with the world. We borrowed an outlet at our rental property to charge the batteries when they died.

We had about 5 gallons of gas on hand, which was convenient, but not enough. I’m going to grow that. A little fuel stabilizer and a couple of 5 gallon gas cans and we can be set for the next time gas runs out.

We cooked everything on the propane grill. I keep two spare propane tanks on hand, but we didn’t use them. Sunday night, my wife made spaghetti on the grill. The hard part was keeping the noodle from falling through. Nah, we threw the cast iron on the grill and cooked away. Had pancakes and bacon made the same way on Sunday.

We had to buy more lanterns. We had two nice big ones, but at one point, we had 9 people in our house. That’s a lot of games, books, and bathroom breaks to coordinate with only two main lights. This weekend did teach our daughters that the emergency flashlights are not toys. Two of them had dead batteries that needed to be replaced.

Going out to dinner Monday evening was a treat. We sat in a building with air-conditioning!

All said, we spent about $250 that we wouldn’t have if the power would have stayed on. That’s $40 for gas, $80 for dinner(you try feeding a family of 5 for less than that at a restaurant that doesn’t have a drive-through) and $130 on new lanterns. The lantern bill caught me by surprise, by a lot, but now we are set for next time.

How would you do without power for three days?

Search Results for: three-alternatives-to-a-budget/brown-bagging-your-way-to-savings/budget-lesson-part-3/budget-lesson-part-5/subscribe-by-email/budget4/budget-lesson-part-2/Clearing Up Social Debt in 3 Steps/budget-lesson-part-1/money-problems-day-1-setting-goals/questions-from-a-reader