- @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. #
How to Die Well
Most people don’t die quickly.
As much as I would rather die suddenly–while putting a smile on my wife’s face–the odds are that I will spend my last hours or days in a hospital, unable to make the decisions about my care.
Will I be doing my vegetable impression after a car accident, or be left unable to speak during a botched Viagra implanantation in my 90s? I don’t know.
There is one thing I know about the end of my life. I do not want to linger for months, blind and deaf, on a feeding tube. I don’t want my family to spend the last few months of my life secretly ashamed of hoping for my burden to end. I’d like my end to be quick enough that the emotions they are feeling aren’t a sad combination of guilt and relief, just sadness at my passing and happiness at having had me.
That’s the legacy I’d like.
The problem is making my wishes known. If I’m lying in a hospital bed, asking to be allowed to die, they’ll consider me suicidal instead of rationally considering my request. If I’m completely incapacitated, I won’t even be able to ask.
I can certainly make my wishes known beforehand, but how will my family be able to communicate my desires to the doctors in charge and how will they convince the doctor that they aren’t just after my currently imaginary millions?
That’s where a living will comes in. A living will, also know as an advanced directive, is simply a formal document that explicitly states what you want to happen to you if you are too out of it to make your wishes known.
Aging With Dignity has put together an advanced directive called Five Wishes that meets the legal requirements for an advanced directive in 42 states.
The Five Wishes are:
1. Who is going to make decisions for you, if you can’t? For me, the obvious choice is my wife. She appears to like me enough to want me around and love me enough to do what needs to be done, even if it’s difficult. On the chance that we end up in the same car accidents, matching vegetables on a shelf, I’ve nominated my father for the unpleasantness. I don’t think I’ve told him that, yet.
2. What kind of treatment do you want, or want to refuse? When my Grandpa was going, he made sure to have a Do Not Resuscitate order on file with the nursing home, the clinic, and the hospital. He knew it was his time and didn’t want to drag it out.
3. How comfortable do you want to be? Do you want to be kept out of pain, at all costs, even if it means being drugged into oblivion most of the day? Do you want a feeding tube, or would you rather only receive food and fluids if you are capable of taking them by mouth?
4. How do you want to be treated? Do you want to be allowed to die at home? Do you want people to pray at your bedside, or keep their religious views to yourself? Some people want to be left alone, while others are terrified of dying alone. This wish also covers grooming. Personally, if I soil myself, I’d like to get cleaned up as soon as possible. I’ll have enough to deal with without smelling bad, too.
5. What do you want your family to know? This includes any funeral requests you have and whether you’d like to be cremated, buried, or both, but also goes beyond them. Do you want your family to know that you love them? You can also take this section to ask feuding family members to make peace or ask them to remember your better days, instead of the miserable few at the end.
The last 3 wishes are unique to the Five Wishes document, but they are excellent things to include. The most important part of advanced directive is the advanced part. You have the right to want whatever works for you, but your wishes don’t matter if nobody knows about them.
How about you? Do you have a living will? Does your family know what you want to have happen if the worst happens?
Changing Our Situation
In September 2005, I bought my car, a Chrysler Pacifica. I got it on a loan. Two months later–seven years ago this month–I was told I’d be laid off at the end of the year.
Two weeks ago, we bought a Chevy Tahoe with a loan. Last Monday, my wife was permanently laid off after 12 years with her company. She was told that, if her department opened back up, she’d be welcome to reapply for her job and start as a new employee.
Car loans mean layoffs at my house.
Last Tuesday, I got a formal offer for a new job. I accepted.
I am now a full month away from knowing exactly what my semi-monthly paychecks will be. My wife is getting her final paycheck later this week, which will include a week of severance pay.
For the first time in a number of years, I don’t know what my income looks like. I don’t have a clear long-term picture or a good short-term picture.
I’m not worried.
For the first time in my life, I’m not living paycheck-to-paycheck. Having a couple of pay periods act wonky isn’t going to hurt. Yes, we are going to cut back, but we can manage for a few months without worry. We aren’t going to sweat over putting food on the table.
That is an incredible feeling.
Sammy’s Story, Part 2
For those of you not following along, please read the previous installment of Sammy’s Story. The short version is that we’re thinking about helping someone launch a small business and put “at risk” teenagers and young adults to work.
Sammy called me a couple of days ago. He wanted to discuss working for some of the tools and toys he saw at my mother-in-law’s house and he said he had something to show us. When I picked him up, he had a leather portfolio-style notebook and looked excited.
When we got to the house, he opened up his notebook and handed me two pieces of paper. He said that the idea of being able to launch his business had him so excited that he couldn’t not do anything. He had handed me a landscaping plan and materials list for fixing my mother-in-law’s yard.
We talked about the landscape plan, the business plan, and my wife’s old skateboard, then he had to go. Last night was one of the nights he met “his” kids at a community center.
On the way to the community center, we stopped by his apartment, because he wanted to show me pictures of his kids, and his grandkids, and his foster mother. He told me about his mother dying when he was 13 and his father dropping him with an aunt before disappearing. He was nearly in tears when he asked how some strange white guy could see more in him than his own family did.
He told me about how the money he made working with me had put food on the table of the 14 year old he brought with–a 14 year old who is eager to work more. It paid the weekly rent for one of the other workers and contributed to the rehab of Sammy’s ex. The little bit we’ve done has already touched the lives of dozens of people.
We talked about the way he hates rap. Not because of it’s musical value, but because it’s building a culture that considers women to be nothing but “bitches and hoes” while convincing kids that the only way they can improve their situation is to land a recording contract. Those are the kids he wants to teach to take care of themselves and build their own lives.
Finally, he asked me for my honest opinion about his landscaping plan.
I said, “Sammy, that clinched the deal. I was leaning towards helping you, but now it’s definite. I know you’re serious, so we’re going to make this happen.”
He’s got no idea how to handle taxes, payroll, or insurance, and he has no tools, but we’re going to jump in with both feet.
Rental Property Update
As I’ve mentioned before, we are fixing up the house we inherited in April to rent it out.
We already have renters lined up starting in February. My wife has known the couple for several years, so we’re not worried about strangers wrecking the place. We will be doing a lease, because skipping that is dumb, even if you know the tenants. They will be paying $1200 per month, plus electric, water, and garbage. We’ll be covering gas and–of course–property taxes. We’re paying the gas bill because we’re going to have most of the appliances on the repair plan through the gas company so we won’t have to worry about appliances breaking.
Those expenses will run about $325 per month, leaving $875 as profit. We’ll probably save another $200 of that to cover future vacancies and for property issues that I’m not foreseeing, leaving $675 to save and invest.
Over the summer, we have spent quite a bit of money fixing the place up.
- Dumpsters x3, $1200. Did I mention my mother-in-law was a hoarder?
- New boiler, $4500.
- Electrical repair, including running power to the garage, $1400.
- Plumbing & gas repair, $900.
- New stove & refrigerator, $1000.
- Landscaping, $2500.
- Other repairs, $8000.
So far, we have spent about $19,500 fixing this place up. There is still a bit of work left to do.
Are we done?
Crap, no.
- We have two rooms of stuff that we need to research and price individually before we sell. This includes some old cameras, typewriters, and collectibles.
- We need to buff and polish the hardwood floors that are in surprisingly good shape.
- We have to scrub the entire house. Cobwebs and mouse crap show up in interesting places when 90% of your house is buried for most of 30 years.
- We have to clean the last of the debris out of the basement. This, and some other stuff, will mean yet another dumpster.
- We have to paint walls and ceilings all over the house and the basement floor.
The to-do list will come with a price tag somewhere between $1000 and $1500.
That comes out to about $21,000 spent to make $675 per month. In just 3 years, the property will be turning a profit, then it becomes an actual profit center for us, hopefully forever. The expenses are all tax deductible, but only as depreciation, which means the cost has to get deducted a bit at a time over the course of the next 5 to 30 years.
On the other hand, we could probably sell the place for $200,000. It’s going to take 25 years of renting to make up that difference.
How to Build a Business on Cannibalism
Last week, my wife posted on Facebook that she was frustrated with her job hunt.
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.
