- @Elle_CM Natalie's raid looked like it was filmed with a strobe light. Lame CGI in reply to Elle_CM #
- I want to get a toto portable bidet and a roomba. Combine them and I'll have outsourced some of the least tasteful parts of my day. #
- RT @freefrombroke: RT @moneybeagle: New Blog Post: Money Hacks Carnival #115 http://goo.gl/fb/AqhWf #
- TED.com: The neurons that shaped civilization. http://su.pr/2Qv4Ay #
- Last night, fell in the driveway: twisted ankle and skinned knee. Today, fell down the stairs: bruise makes sitting hurt. Bad morning. #
- RT @FrugalDad: And to moms, please be more selective about the creeps you let around your child. Takes a special guy to be a dad to another' #
- First Rule of Blogging: Don't let real life get in the way. Epic fail 2 Fridays in a row. But the garage sale is going well. #
Human Interaction
Life may be like a box of chocolates, but it is certainly not a game of Sorry, where one person wins at the expense of all others. It is entirely possible for everyone to win in most voluntary interactions.
For example, if my company gives me a $10,000 raise, it would seem like I win and they lose. I’m getting more money, at the expense of their bottom line, right? Maybe. But what if that raise spurs me on to make an extra $100,000 for the company? That makes it a good investment and a Win/Win scenario.
When I’m dealing with one of my side-business customers or an advertiser, I’m definitely pushing for the Win/Win. Of course I want them to pay me as much as possible, but I also want their repeat business, which won’t happen unless they walk away happy. If I insisted that each of my customers pay the absolute top dollar, I may come out ahead in the short-term, but what about next month or next year? It’s much better for both of us if we can find a happy middle ground.
The four basic forms of interaction are:
1. Win/Lose. This is where I win and you lose. Haha! The problem with a Win/Lose is that the loser isn’t going to come back to play next year. He’s not happy and he’ll probably tell his friends how unhappy he is. This is also the interaction that people are mistakenly assuming when they complain about excessive executive interaction. The CEO is making a million dollars while the folks on the assembly line are stuck with $15 per hour? It’s entirely possible that, if the CEO weren’t doing his job, nobody else would have one. That is, like it or not, Win/Win.
2. Lose/Win. This is where I give up everything, hoping you’ll eventually throw me a bone. It’s a cowardly interaction that won’t work well when dealing with someone playing #1. I’ll keep giving, you’ll keep taking. You go home happy, I go home sore. When it’s done, I won’t do business with you ever again.
3. Lose/Lose. Nobody wins. We fight so hard to get what we want, forcing the other side to give up as much as possible, while they are doing the same. At the end of the day, the hatred is flowing so strong, there’s no possibility of a relationship.
4. Win/Win. Yay! Everybody wins! Everybody’s happy! This will involve some compromise, but hopefully we can reach the happy middle ground where we are both smiling. If I’m looking for a deal that involves you paying me $1000 per month, is it better for me to push to get exactly that, or let myself get talked down to $750? If the $1000 is more than you can afford, so you quit with hard feelings after one month, the ongoing $750 is much, much better for both of us. It is actually in my greedy self-interest to give up that 25% to build our relationship.
Winning doesn’t have to be done at the expense of others. If you do it right, we all win.
Optimized to Go, Part 1
Last weekend, we held a garage sale at my mother-in-law’s house. It was technically an estate sale, but we treated it exactly as a garage sale.
A week before we started, a friend’s mother came to buy all of the blankets and most of the dishes, pots, and non-sharp utensils so she could donate them all to a shelter she works with. She took at least 3 dozen comforters and blankets away.
Even after that truckload, we started with two double rows of tables through the living room and dining room. The tops of the tables were as absolutely full as we could get them, and the floor under the tables was also used for displaying merchandise.
Have you ever had to display 75 brand-new pairs of shoes in a minimal about of space? They claimed about 16 feet of under-table space all by themselves. Thankfully, the blankets weren’t there anymore.
We also had half of the driveway full of furniture, toys, and tools.
We had a lot of stuff.
Now, most people hold a sale to make some money. Not us. We held a sale to let other people pay us for the privilege of hauling away our crap. As such, it was all priced to move. The most expensive thing we sold was about $20, but I can’t remember what that was. Most things went for somewhere between 25 cents and $1.
At those prices, we sold at least 2000 items. That isn’t a typo. We ended the day with $1325. After taking out the initial seed cash, lunches we bought for the people helping us, and dinner we bought one night, we had a profit of $975.
At 25 cents per item.
We optimized to sell instead of optimizing for profit. At the end of a long summer of cleaning out a hoarding house, it all needed to go.
In the next part, I’ll explain exactly how we made it work.
Mortgage Race, Part 2
As I mentioned last month, Crystal and I are in a race to pay off our mortgages. The loser(henceforth known as “Crystal”) has to visit the winner. Now, since–judging by the temperature–Crystal lives in Hell, I think it would be good for her to visit in the winter. There something about the idea of going ice fishing, staring at a hole in the ice while sitting on a 5 gallon bucket, cursing the day I was born.
Today, she threw down the gauntlet again. She has apparently decided that, since her prerequisites are met, she’s going to win. Sure, she’s closed on her house and built her savings back up to $20000, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve sent a small army of arson-ninjas to keep her from getting ahead. They are so small, they can only carry tiny matches and single drops of gasoline, so the damage they can do is tiny, but it will add up. Just a word of advice: if you hire an army of arson-ninjas, go for the upsell and get ninjas that are at least 2 feet tall. Anything less is just inefficient.
When I announced the race last month, my mortgage balance was $26,266.40. Today, it is $25,382.53. In three days, there will be another $880 applied to the principal.
In February, our renters will move in and we’ll conservatively have another $650 to pay. When that starts, our balance should be around $23,000. Adding a portion of the rent payment should mean we pay off the house in May 2014. However, when I bring in our side hustle money, that will bring us back to September 2013.
Crystal’s projected payoff is July 2013, so I’ll have to hustle.
How come my back hurts?
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:
- I started teaching myself to program computers when I was 7.
- I worked in a collection agency collecting on defaulted student loans to put myself through college while I had a baby at home.
- When I graduated, I went out of my way to help anyone I could, which positioned me for a promotion, getting my first programming job. The first one is the hardest.
- I spent 3 years studying the online marketing aspects of what I’m doing, with no promise of a payoff.
- I launched a side business in the same industry as the company I work for.
- I built a relationship with an author to include his books in the classes I teach. He happened to move to the company I’m with.
- I offered advice–for free, on a regular basis–on certain aspects of his business and his responsibilities with this company.
- He offered me a job.
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?”
Mariano Rivera: Rags to MLB Riches
Mariano Rivera is the most dominant closer in the history of baseball. His cut fastball, or cutter, is considered by many to be the best pitch in the history of the game. He is the all-time saves leader, and he has five World Series rings that he can wear. Of course, he has made millions of dollars over his professional career, which has brought him a long way from his humble roots as the son of a Panamanian fisherman.
Rivera’s journey began in Panama City. He was born on November 29, 1969. His father was a fisherman in the small fishing village of Puerto Caimito. Like almost every boy in Latin America, his earliest athletic experiences were playing soccer. However, he also played baseball as well. The area was so poor that not many people actually owned baseball gloves, bats or balls.
Instead, Rivera and his friends would play games with tree branches for bats. They used milk cartons instead of gloves, and they taped together pieces of old fishing nets to use as balls. Rivera didn’t have his first real leather baseball glove until his dad bought him one at the age of 12.
Rivera liked baseball, but he never thought he would one day make a living at it. Instead, he dreamed of playing soccer professionally like most Latinos. However, he suffered a series of ankle injuries during high school that shattered this dream. He finished school at age 16 and began working on his father’s fishing boat. He had to abandon ship when the boat capsized, and that scared him away from fishing forever.
Soon after that, Rivera started playing on a local amateur baseball team, Panama Oeste. He was the team’s shortstop, and he only started pitching because the team’s normal pitcher was in a slump. His teammates were so impressed with his pitching skills that they convinced the Panama scout for the New York Yankees to give him a tryout. Rivera went to Panama City for a Yankees tryout camp, and the Yankees signed the man who would become one of the greatest players of all-time to a contract worth just $3,000.
When Rivera came to the United States, he did not speak English and was incredibly homesick. Puerto Caimito did not have telephone service at that time, which meant Rivera could only communicate to his family back home by writing long letters.
Rivera made steady progress through the minor leagues, but it was still five years before he was called up to the big leagues. His first few years in the major leagues, Rivera made the minimum salary of $750,000. This is a small figure by American standards, but it is more money than most people in Panama can dream of.
Rivera still goes back to Panama every year. He feels it is a home and that he is a part of it. His riches have never transformed him into a diva. He is one of the most down-to-earth and genuinely friendly players in the game.
