Live Like a Mensch

Post Coming Tomorrow

2013-05-21T21:51:00Z

Greetings Dollar Stretcherians!

I owe you a post today, but today was also my deadline for getting the first chunk of my book to my editor, which means my brains are currently slowly leaking out of my eyeballs. I'm hoping to be able to find and replace all the various brains by tomorrow, at which point you'll have a new post from me.

Until then, I need to bathe my brain in something mindless.

(Also, tomorrow J, LO and I will be heading to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for Community Day, during which time we will be allowed to drive the Volvo 240 around the track. Not to worry, there will be pictures and video of this incredible ridiculousness).

The Secret to Living Below Your Means? Lowering Your Standards!

2013-05-17T15:28:00Z

Picture of an automobile I could realistically imagine J trying to talk me into buying/restoring courtesy of the unfortunately-named Fornax.

It is full spring now, which means J and I have been hit with the home improvement bug. We have been planting some perennials in the garden, removing some of the ugly pavers left over from the previous owners' landscaping attempts, weeding and fencing in the strawberry patch in the hopes that we'll actually get to eat some of them this year rather than just having the happiest rabbits in the greater Lafayette area, painting the picnic table in our back yard, and pruning hedges. We've also got plans to paint the exterior of the house this summer and finally get to work on the downstairs bathroom, which has been on the back burner for about a year and a half.

I was mentioning all of this work to my mother when she suggested now might be a good time to fix the foot moulding in the upstairs hallway.

You see, back when we moved into our house in 2010, we pulled up the upstairs carpet and refinished the lovely hardwood floors underneath. Unfortunately, at some point in our home's history, the original foot mouldings were spirited away, possibly to make room for the world's ugliest Pepto Bismol pink carpeting which we gleefully ripped out. While the company that handled the floor refinishing could have easily made new floor moulding to match our gorgeous floors, it would have put us over the budget we'd set aside for it. So, we let it be.

Other than the time I dropped an earring that got lodged in the space between the floorboards and the wall because there was no foot moulding to cover such a gap and thereby prevent such an earring loss, I haven't given a single thought to our missing flooring pieces in the last three years. (We were able to get the earring out with a pair of tweezers and some patience, and then soaked the earring in a 100% alcohol solution to kill whatever crawlies it might have picked up during its short floor-bound incarceration. So no harm, no foul.)

While J and I could certainly have the floor fixed at any time--we just need to set the money aside--it doesn't bother us enough to bother with. We have other places we want to spend our money (like on our garden) and other places we need to spend our money (like on our exterior paint), so we just let little things slide.

And that, I've realized, might just be the reason why we are able to live as far below our means as we do. For instance, J drives a 20-year old Volvo 240 station wagon for which he receives a great deal of ribbing from friends, co-workers, and family. But the car runs great, has the Volvo level of safety, and J is happy to do the work on it. Even though J's boss teased him about the giant blue brick recently when J drove a group to lunch, we ultimately know that it doesn't matter in the slightest what other people think of the car. It's an inexpensive (and fun) car to own, and it fits our needs. (J's boss also found himself reluctantly impressed with the car by the time he'd ridden in it).

In addition, I'm still wearing the same maternity tops that I bought three years ago that are getting a tad worse for the wear. While it would be lovely to have some clothes that don't have tiny stains on them, I also know that I don't have to look professional (or even pulled together) at any point during my day, so I save my money for other issues. I'm happy to wear out my clothes until they've fallen below even my unfastidious standards of what constitutes something you can wear in public.

You, too, can pare down your list of necessities to a much more affordable tally if you simply lower your standards!

For me and J, floor moulding, a car built in this Millennium, and clothing free of stains/holes are simply luxuries that we consider completely unnecessary. Our lives wouldn't be appreciably better with those things, so we do without them.

What do you do without/consider a want rather than a need/no longer consider as standard, in your quest for frugality? What kinds of teasing do you get from others who just want you to fix the dang floor!?

Your Retirement Questions Answered, Part I

2013-05-14T15:53:00Z

Photo of the world's coolest retired couple courtesy of Alex Proimos

I mentioned several weeks ago that I will be spending my May semi-hiatus from blogging doing research and writing a book about retirement. I also invited you all to pepper me with retirement questions that you've always been afraid to ask.

I have to tell you, reading your questions produced small animal noises of terror from this researcher/writer. I went into this project with a sense of unwarranted confidence. I know money stuff, I thought to myself as I signed the contract to write AN ENTIRE BOOK. This will be a piece of cake.

Then I read through your questions, and I realized there's a reason why people make a living advising people on how to retire. This stuff is complimicated!

So after a few days spent hiding under a desk emitting high-pitched anxiety noises, I started doing my research. I'm still not feeling like an expert, but I feel much more confident about my ability to know where to find answers. (I'm still waiting for the tax code to make sense to me, particularly vis-a-vis retirement, but I suspect I'll be waiting a long time for that one.)

In any case, I wanted to get started answering your retirement questions today, and I thought I'd start off with the excellent question from maggie.glos:

"As a younger person, I am always confused with whether it is better to put my retirement money into one of the funds based on my age and how many years to retirement or if I should be trying to put it into certain stocks. Which is wiser?"

Part of the reason why this is a tough question to answer is because the answer depends somewhat on you and your personal investing style and risk tolerance. Specifically, if you want to personally play the stock market and you have a high risk tolerance, then you'll be unhappy putting money into a mutual fund based on how far you are from retirement. But if you're somewhat risk averse and a set-it-and-forget-it type of investor (which definitely describes me), then mutual funds will be the way to go.

However, since there are very few people who fit that first descriptor, I'll answer Maggie's question as if she's more like the second type of investor.

One of the reasons why it may seem wiser to pick certain stocks is because of how they have historically performed. But if you visit any financial adviser or read any prospectus, you'll see the words "Past performance are no guarantee of future returns" written somewhere, spoken aloud, embroidered on a pillow, or tattooed on a forehead. Any stock that has gone gangbusters can't promise that it will continue to do so--just ask anyone who invested in dotcoms in 2000 or real estate in 2007.

So, historical performance is not a way to pick a stock. That means you're left with other metrics, like the soundness of the company, the performance of the market as a whole, or your gut, which are equally imperfect methods for choosing a particular stock.

That's why most investors mitigate their risk by buying into mutual funds. These funds diversify the investment by buying into many different securities (securities is a term that includes stocks, bonds, and derivatives)--and mutual funds include professional management of the investments.

Basically, Maggie, it's going to be wiser for 99% of workers to choose a fund rather than pick specific stocks.

However, that doesn't completely answer your question. I was under the impresson that you also weren't sure how to go about choosing funds. This is a common problem, and in fact, it is the stumbling block for many many people and can often be the reason why workers don't buy into their company 401(k). They just can't bear the thought of having to read through all the information and make choices.

Thankfully, it's not as difficult as you might think.

Start by determining your risk tolerance. Bankrate has a "fun" version of the usual risk tolerance quiz that can help you determine how secure you can feel with your money in volatile investments.

Once you know how conservative or aggressive you are, you're ready to start determining which fund is best for you. Look at the investment objectives of your available options. These objectives will be stated clearly in the prospectus for each of your options.

As a young person still decades away from retirement, the best objectives will be growth or capital appreciation (either of these terms might be used). If you are particularly conservative, you might temper those growth assets with more balanced assets. For example, you might choose to put 50% in an S&P 500 Index Fund and 10% in an international stock fund, both of which would provide you with a growth objective, and the remaining 40% in a bond fund that would provide you with more stability. A more aggressive peer might change those rations to 60% S&P, 20% international stock, and 20% bonds. But in either case, a young investor needs to make capital appreciation a priority.

As you get closer to retirement--within ten years, let's say--you'll want to start transitioning from an accumulation mentality to rebalancing. This will be when you start scaling back on the aggressive allocations (which are generally stocks) and amping up your balanced allocations (funds that are a combination of stocks and bonds).

When you reach retirement, you will then want to move into allocations that will produce income in your retirement--things like bonds that offer income objectives.

The third investment objective you'll see is safety/stability of principle. You'll see that on cash equivalents like CDs, T-Bills and money market funds. These will not keep pace with inflation, which means that even though you theoretically can't lose principle with these, you are still losing money in the long run because your principle will be able to buy less and less over the years. Go for stability with money you need to keep liquid, but this is not a real investment strategy.

So, to make a long story short, for most people it is wiser to choose funds based on your age/years to retirement.

Phew. Is anyone else sweating? I feel like I just ran a 5k.

Maggie, I hope this answered your question. For everyone else, please let me know if there is anything you'd like me clarify or if you have any other retirement questions you would like answered. The comment line is open!

Being a Life Insurance Beneficiary

2013-05-09T19:41:00Z

As I've mentioned before, my dear dad was a financial planner who got his career started by selling disability and life insurance.

That means he was really well prepared for his regrettably short retirement and for his estate. One of the wonderful gifts he left for myself and my sister was a life insurance policy. My sister and I were named as both the owners and beneficiaries of the policy. He did this so that my sister and I would not have to worry about estate taxes on the benefits--which we potentially would have had to pay if Dad had been the owner of the policy. Dad was a smart cookie and taking care of us like this was one way he showed his love.

I've never been a life insurance beneficiary before, so much of what I'm encountering has been a little confusing/new/tough to figure out. Working as I do in personal finance blogging, I feel like I know just enough about the subject to know just how much I don't know. Add to that the fact that I'm feeling a little weird about this money--I very much wish I could have my father back, but making plans for how to use the insurance money is undeniably intriguing--and dealing with the life insurance benefits has been a little strange.

It started with knowing how to receive the benefits. My father was insured through MetLife, which offers something called Total Control Accounts, which they really try to sell the beneficiaries on. Basically, this settlement option keeps the money under MetLife's control (I like to imagine Snoopy is the one handling the accounting, with a pencil behind his ear and an old-fashioned paper-reciept calculator set up on top of his dog house). The money will continue to accrue interest, which will become part of my payout eventually, and I can write a draft for any amount up to the full benefit at any time. MetLife really wants beneficiaries to take this option, because it means that they get to hold onto/use the money for longer. According to their literature, the interest rate is calculated weekly, interest accrues daily, and it is credited monthly.

The other option was to take a check for the full amount.

Since I needed to talk to my financial adviser about where this money was going, I decided to go with the Total Control Account. As I told my sister when she and I were trying to figure out the best course of action, this was Dad's insurance decision, and he would have made a good one for us. It's possible the money won't stay in that settlement account for long as I start using it for various things, but I know that it's safe where it is and I have flexibility and options.

Now, as I'm waiting for the paperwork to go through, I've had some time to consider what I want to do with the money. My sister told me she planned to give a portion of her share to a children's hospital, which I thought was a wonderful idea. My father loved kids. It took me until I was about 13 or 14 to realize that most of my friends' fathers didn't wave at little kids and flirt with babies. Dad was unabashedly happy to interact with little ones, in a way you rarely see in grown men. So I'm pleased to follow my sister's suggestion to give away a portion of the money in Dad's name to help children in need.

As for the rest, I'm going to put the majority towards my own retirement and some towards LO's and Thing 2's* college funds.

I like to think that Dad would approve of my plans for the money. He did once say he would get down on his hands and knees to scrub floors to pay for Harvard if that was where my sister and I wanted to go, and I feel similarly about my kids' college educations. (My feelings about college are evolving somewhat, considering the spiraling expense and the relative lack of return, as much as it pains me to look at education from a purely financial perspective. But anything I can do to take finances out of the education equation and that will allow my kids to follow the educational or life path that will bring them the most fulfillment and success makes me feel good.)

It feels strange to suddenly have this money. J and I are doing fine without the money, and my retirement and the kids' educations would certainly be taken care of without it. That's part of the reason why I want to make a donation to charity that is larger than we could afford--because that is something that I know I couldn't do without this gift, and I'd like to pay it forward.

I just hope to be worthy of this last gift from my dad, and I hope that I am responsible with it.

*I have not yet announced to my Dollar Stretcher readers the big news that J and I are expecting baby #2, in mid-September. Before we knew that this baby was also a boy, J started referring to the baby as Thing 2 (as in, the second of the Cat in the Hat's two associates), and it stuck. So even though we've picked out a lovely name for our second son, I'll probably continue to refer to him as Thing 2 online.

What JC Penney Can Teach Us About Rational Behavior

2013-05-07T19:12:00Z

Photo courtesy of Dravecky

By now, you've no doubt heard the news that JC Penney has fired their new CEO Ron Johnson after only 17 months on the job, and reinstated their old CEO Mike Ullman.

I've been following this story about JC Penney with interest, because I was actually very heartened by the changes Johnson instituted. Rather than artificially inflating prices so the store could have sales and send out coupons to customers, Penneys had decided to go to a "fair and square" pricing system, where they just kept their prices reasonable and consistent. That meant you could stroll into a Penneys on any old day with no coupons whatsoever and know you were getting a good price.

That, to me, seems like a great innovation.

Unfortunately, I seem to be in the minority.

What Ron Johnson didn't take into account was the fact that shopping is very rarely just about purchasing goods. For the bargain-hunting types who thrive on sales, coupons, special deals, and the like, shopping is actually a game, wherein you can "win" if you save more money than some other sucker who's paying full price. For many shoppers, scoring the cute blouse for just under $10 is more about the thrill of the hunt, and less about the blouse itself. This hardly makes sense if you're looking at shopping rationally--which I try to do and Johnson clearly did--but considering what we see once a year on Black Friday, it's probably safe to say that "rational" and "shopping" are not necessarily two words that can be uttered in the same breath for many American consumers.

Basically, Johnson was under the impression that Penneys was selling consumer goods, when in actuality, they're in the entertainment business. By changing the pricing system to reflect the true cost of the items for sale, Penneys took out the entertainment value of bargain hunting, and completely eliminated many shoppers' reason for shopping there.

As they're new ads have proclaimed, "Oops!"

For me, I'm disappointed that things have gone the way they have for Penneys. (I'd like to think that if I had spent any time thinking about the new pricing system, that I would have had an inkling over a year ago that it wasn't going to work--but I don't think I'm nearly that smart). I would love to see shopping become a more straightforward transaction: you need a particular item, you search for said item and potentially compare prices, you purchase said item. End of story. But considering the fact that shopping (and even bargain shopping) is something of a national pastime, it's unlikely these kinds of games will be ending anytime soon.

Too many of us enjoy the game for companies to start replacing it with rational pricing.

What did you think about Penney's "fair and square" pricing strategy? Were you pleased or disappointed that bargain hunting was no longer possible? Are you more likely to shop there now that you can take advantage of sales and coupons again?

On Being Called Cheap

2013-05-03T20:22:00Z

Yes, I pinch pennies.

It happens every once in a while. Being of a frugal nature, I look at things in the way that will avoid spending unnecessary money.

Sometimes, that means someone will call me cheap.

I hate it when that happens.

Honestly, it's gotten better since the economic downturn. Being frugal has become something to aspire to, rather than something to be ashamed of. People can talk openly about their extreme couponing and the way they stretch their meal plans over a week, and it's now considered interesting conversation instead of proof of being both boring and a cheapskate.

But still, from time to time, my frugal worldview will prompt someone else to decry "cheap!"

I'm a little sensitive to this non-insult. I know that in general, nothing is meant by it. People who do not understand why and how I live the way I do have to find an easy method of comprehending my lifestyle. I know that I pay close attention to small amounts of money that other people simply don't worry about, which may make it seem as though I'm particularly parsimonious. (I'm not. I just like to pay attention). I also know that just because I make decisions that are different from others' doesn't mean either method is better than the other. I know all this, but it can be hard to feel it.

I really admire the individuals who embrace the cheapskate image. They have a "Nobody bodders me!" kind of attitude that I wish I could emulate.

But, personally, I don't want to be thought of that of as cheap. Careful with money, yes. Frugal even, sure.

But cheap to me seems like the opposite of generous, which I truly hope is not the case in my life. Part of the reason why I am so frugal is so I can have money available to spend on things that are important to me--and that includes family and friends, the ability to stay home with my son, his future education, wonderful experiences, and charities I care about.

Ultimately, I know it truly doesn't matter what other people think of me. (And no matter how often I might hear my name and the word cheap in the same breath, you won't see me changing my money habits. I wouldn't know how to, for one thing).

But I do wish I knew better how to let this particular epithet roll off my back.

Has anyone ever called you cheap? How do you deal with it?

Threatening the Cable Company Works

2013-04-30T20:39:00Z

Image courtesy of Ralpharama

You may recall my previous complaints and hand-wringing over dealing with our cable company, Comcast.

My most recent conversation with Comcast made it clear that we could save something like $50-$60 per month if we were to drop cable, while still keeping our internet and home phone service.

Since today is the last day of the month, it was grand bill-paying day, with the ritual blowing of the checking account conch shell to announce the start of the day, the removal of the sacred bill-paying pen from its hermetically sealed glass case, and the ceremonial banging of the head while waiting on hold with various and assorted "customer service" agents. (I did, however, skip the sacramental bill-paying and head-banging robes. I was running a little short on time, and it's only me here.)

In any case, I got Comcast on the horn sometime this morning. I was a bill-paying woman on a mission. I was going to cancel cable, free up some time that I know I can better spend than by watching endless Friends reruns over and over again because they just happen to be on TBS, and save myself somewhere in the neighborhood of $600 per year.

The first individual I spoke was clearly reading from cue cards. I said I was planning on cancelling cable, and she told me she could certainly understand my frustration. I wasn't frustrated. I wasn't complaining. I just wanted to cancel my cable.

She did not have that authority. (Apparently, cancelling your cable is the sort of thing only a manager can handle. I suspect there's a special register key, like at the grocery store).

She put me on hold to talk to a customer service specialist--nominally the person who had the authority to cancel my cable, but in actuality, the person who was going to try to convince me to keep cable.

I waited on hold for 9 minutes for my customer service specialist, who, once she got me on the phone, asked if there was anything she could do to change my mind. I told her no.

She told me that my price for just phone and internet would be $105 per month. This is a good $20 more than what the last person quoted me for just those two services, but expecting consistency in prices at a cable company from one phone call to the next is as useless as expecting bullfrogs to tap dance. It just ain't gonna happen.

So, I told her that sounded just dandy to me, and to please go ahead and cancel the cable.

She then pulled out the big guns. She could, as a special favor to me, return me to the original bundle price I was given three years ago: $99 for all three services. Which, as you may notice if you're keeping score at home, is LESS expensive than the cost for just the two services I was interested in keeping.

Apparently, Ms. Customer Service rep thought I was playing hardball when I really just wanted to cancel the cable.

Even though I really was looking forward to the time I don't turn on the TV as a matter of course, I agreed to the "new" price, which will theoretically last through the next year. (I say theoretically because I have some trust issues with cable companies).

I'm not entirely sure why Comcast is so very committed to keeping our intravenous television drip on and working--particularly considering the fact that we don't order Pay-Per-View (with one notable exception), we don't upgrade to premium channels, and we have a conversation something like this about once or twice a year.

But, considering the fact that I saved about 40 bucks a month by engaging in the ritual head-banging of bill-paying day, I'm feeling pretty pleased about it all.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go see what Monica, Chandler and the gang were up to 15 years ago.

Apparently, You Shouldn't Buy Organic

2013-04-29T20:27:00Z

I LOVE it when a recognized authority backs up my secretly held convictions. Earlier this month, Jayson Lusk, who holds the illustrious title of "Professor and Willard Sparks Endowed Chair, Department of Agricultural Economics, Oklahoma State University" wrote this piece on Huffington Post regarding the intricacies of buying organic produce.

Now, despite the fact that the article is provocatively titled "Why You Shouldn't Buy Organic," Prof. Lusk is not definitively making the case that no one should buy organic produce. He's simply pointing out the fact that the word organic has quite the halo effect, which makes it shorthand for all the things we want from our food. But despite what we may think, organic produce is not necessarily grown on small family farms, it is not pesticide-free, and it is not necessarily a more sustainable option than conventionally grown produce.

I for one would like to breathe a big old sigh of relief. Back when I was a kid, my parents bought apples and carrots and pears (oh, my!) for me to eat without giving a thought to where it came from. While there are some major issues with thinking your food originated in the supermarket where you found it, there is something to be said for the blissful ignorance that previous generations ate under. They did not have to have the internal grocery debate over whether to spend the extra money on organic produce for their children, thereby insuring their continued health, well-being, and superiority at the local play group, but also insuring that there would be no money left over to send that healthy youngun to college. Or alternatively spending less on conventional produce, thereby proving your hatred for your children and insuring they would never actually make it to college since the pesticides would addle their brains before getting there.

I have long looked askance as the so-called dirty dozen, the list of the 12 most pesticide-contaminated produce that you should apparently always buy organic. This list was supposedly created in order to help shoppers on budgets decide what organic produce was most important so they didn't have to purchase all organic produce. Unfortunately, the list constitutes the 12 most commonly purchased produce items in any shopper's cart and really doesn't help anyone's budget since it's fairly rare that one buys fruits and veggies that are NOT on the list.

So, based upon that simple fact of cost, I decided not to buy organic. I simply couldn't afford it.

Then, several years ago, I read somewhere that the cancer-increasing effects one faces by ingesting pesticides are much much much smaller than the cancer-reducing effects of eating lots of fruits and veggies, whether they are conventional or organic. So basically, if you feel like you have to buy organic produce or no produce at all--you're actually better off with the cheap, "poisonous," non-organic apples.

And that was basically the end of my feelings of guilt for purchasing non-organic.

Don't get me wrong--I love the goal of organic, sustainable, locally grown produce. Living in Indiana, we have an enviable farmer's market every spring-through-fall that I love to shop at. I like supporting local farmers and knowing where my produce is coming from.

But I don't make it my mission to eat entirely organic, because that way madness and the poor house lies. The only organic purchase I regularly make is milk, partially because it seems to last longer than conventional milk, and partially because I really prefer the taste. (And partially because I read some information about what makes it into conventional milk. That turned my stomach. I have no idea if I'm avoiding the issue by drinking organic, but some things you just don't want to know more about).

All this is to say that I would love to see our food production be as healthy, sustainable, and financially viable as possible. But pinning all of our hopes on the word organic (like when you see organic candy, which seems to be missing the point) is not the way to do it. As with everything else, organic food production is far more complex than the marketers make it seem.

It's human nature to want a simple, hard-and-fast rule about something, and for many food shoppers these days, apparently organic is it.

My Finger Still Hurts: Great-Grandmotherly Wisdom

2013-04-26T15:17:00Z

My great-grandmother Fannie, who passed away before I was born, was an incrediby wise woman. One of my favorite of her aphorisms is "If I cut my finger and you cut off your arm, my finger still hurts."

I've always tried to remember that it's okay to keenly feel my own personal hurts, even if other people's pain is worse somehow. I can certainly be sympathetic and compassionate for your missing arm and I can certainly be there for you. But at the end of the day, I still feel my cut finger and I can never feel your cut-off arm. And that's okay.

This is something I have thought about often during recent tragedies in the news. It seems to be human nature that someone will start pointing out the "hypocrisy" of our caring about tragedies in our own backyard when people are suffering and dying every day all over the world. I never want to lose the perspective that human tragedy is painful and even unbearable the world over. But I can still nurse my own hurt finger--because it's the pain I'm feeling directly. And there's nothing wrong with keenly feeling something that hits close to home. If we felt that way about every tragedy the world over, no one would ever be able to get out of bed.

I had mentioned this piece of wisdom to a friend recently, so it's been on my mind. This morning, as I was thinking about Fannie's words, I realized that there's a positive correlation to it, as well.

For instance, if my child receives his GED after a long struggle and yours gets a PhD from Harvard, I can still feel proud of my child, without your pride taking anything away from mine. If I skimp and scrape and save to be able to purchase a beater car that I keep running myself and you use your annual bonus to buy a Lexus, I can still feel good about my choice without your finances reflecting in any way on mine.

Even though Fannie had always framed this wisdom as being about the uselessness of comparing heartbreak and tragedy, it's ultimately about the uselessness of comparing, period.

There's no reason to keep up with the Joneses--ultimately, they have their own cut fingers/missing arms they are dealing with that we may never know about. We only have our own particular experiences and we must live our lives based on the hand we're dealt. So it's okay to grieve our own personal losses and feel our own personal pride and make our own personal improvements. Provided we treat the Joneses with compassion and remember that they're also dealing with whatever life has handed them, it's simply silly to envy their house/car/boat/gadget. You have no idea how bad their missing arm hurts.

Since I unfortunately do not seem to have a picture of my great-grandmother handy (and Mom, if you're reading this, could we rectify that situation?), here's a picture of her daughter, my grandmother Ruthie, who was also a very wise woman, embodying the lesser-known adage "If I dance all night at my daughter's wedding in uncomfortable shoes and you just went through foot surgery, my feet still hurt":

An Opportunity, a (Sort Of) Hiatus, and Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Retirement But Were Afraid to Ask

2013-04-24T18:58:00Z

Last month, I was contacted by an editor at a publishing company about the possibility of writing a book on retirement.

Despite the fact that part of me wants to curl up in the fetal position under my desk, I've taken the gig and will officially be writing a 60,000 word opus on what people about 5 years away from retirement need to be doing to prepare.

My editor is hoping for a very quick turnaround time on my manuscript. My due date is mid-June, which you might have noticed is a scant 7 weeks from now. In order to make sure I hit my deadline, for the month of May, I will be slowing down my Mensch posting to 2 days a week--probably Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I intend to get back to my usual blogging schedule in June, so you won't have to go too long without your daily Mensch fix.

Since I will be spending the next 7 weeks immersed in the world of retirement planning, I thought I'd ask you, dear readers, to share with me the specific questions about retirement that you wish someone would illuminate. I hope to blog about some of the discoveries I make through the course of my research for this book, and I'd love to know exactly what people are concerned about.

Thanks, and wish me luck!