In addition to seeming like total fraudsters, lots of financial advisors must come off as boring putzes to most people who come in contact with them, like an effervescent nanny in a pin-striped suit firing off lists of do’s and don’ts to anyone who will listen.
What I try to encourage is a view of spending that lines up with what we know about the psychology of money, and what actually bring the most satisfaction. We’ll call it the High Value Splurge.
I’d like to consider myself a tightwad who understands value. Or, as the famous refrain goes: Price is what you pay. Value is what you get. I’m willing to spend on those things that will actually produce some long-term satisfaction, and unwilling to spend on things that won’t.
Over on Twitter, Anthony Isola of Ritholtz Wealth has been uncovering the vile world of teachers’ retirement plans, which are typically high-cost annuities being sold as appropriate investment options. His findings have been eye-opening for many, though unsurprising for me.
Most salespeople who hock this crap are decent people. They exist in a perverse system of conflicted interests that demeans both the employees and clients. We must do better than this. https://t.co/Isjah3DbNA
I’m not typically into New Year’s resolutions; I tend to think that if there are things we’d like to do differently, we shouldn’t wait until January to start. And anyway, 80% of resolutions fail by February, so really, what’s the point?
Just about everybody we meet with talks about travel being one of their most important financial goals; the ability to see and share a journey with loved ones is high on the priority list for most of our clients.
My kids are now 7 and 4 ½, and they’ve already been all over the U.S., and have traveled internationally to Europe and Africa. We’ve made travel a priority, and they’re starting to get old enough to appreciate it (although my daughter claimed her favorite part of our spring break trip to Italy was the “yummy Cheerios” [Froot Loops] at the airport hotel in Boston).
Every once in awhile, and sometimes more often than that, markets go nuts. Investors (over)react to some random news, in an attempt to predict an inherently unknowable future, and everyone pays.
We call the market gyrations “volatility,” especially when the market goes down. I’ve noticed that when the market goes up, we don’t call it anything; we just go on about our lives as if markets going up is normal and to be expected, like Mr. Market owes us something.
Since 2002, Crocs (CROX) has sold over 300 million pairs of some of the ugliest shoes on the planet. Their strategy, it seems, is to embrace the ugliness, and design what many consider to be the most comfortable shoe they’ve ever worn, fashion sense be damned.
This approach has led to a bit of an online backlash over the years, as this (one of my personal favorites) Facebook group shows. The group has existed since long before Facebook became the web’s number one destination for middle aged women to sell essential oils and other various multi-level marketing products, and they do nothing to shield Crocs and Croc-wearers from their disdain.
Last week marked the tenth anniversary of the collapse of Lehman Brothers, which, along with the forced sale of Merrill Lynch to Bank of America, and the federal takeover of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, triggered the Dow Jones Industrial Average to plunge almost 4.5% that day. Two weeks later, an even bigger 7% drop signaled the spread of the financial crisis, as Lehman’s $613 billion in debt reverberated throughout the financial market. Their bankruptcy remains the largest in history.
Shortly thereafter, Washington Mutual was seized by the FDIC, and their assets were sold to JP Morgan Chase, and Wachovia was acquired by Wells Fargo.