September 6, 2026
This week I got to drive down to Dallas to meet up with my money guy, Robert. Two or three years ago I came to the realization that my career at Texas Instruments was coming to an end (whether I wanted it to or not), and my wife Margaret was about to hit the big 65-year milestone in her life. In my mind that meant one thing. We needed to see how much money we had stashed away! My Great Uncle Norman used to keep every dollar he possessed shoved into his wallet because the old guy didn’t believe in banks. Well, times have changed, and because Margaret and I had a combined eighty years of working for the same company, our retirement money was all stashed away in the financial institution that handles most of the money matters for Texas Instruments employees.
For people approaching retirement age, finding out how much money they have stashed away can be rather exciting and joyful! Or it can be totally terrifying and depressing as hell, depending on how well they’ve handled their funds. Margaret often tells the story of her trip down to the Social Security office. Years ago she stepped into the local office for some reason, but her most memorable moment concerning the visit was hearing some elderly woman scream, “I can’t live on two hundred and fifty dollars a month!” I’ve always heard that food, clothing, and shelter are the three main elements concerning human survival, but sound financial planning has to be coming in at a close fourth.
With these thoughts in mind, I logged into our financial institution’s website and discovered that the Dallas office was loaded with financial advisors. All I had to do was pick one and schedule a time for a meeting. I chose Robert because he was over fifty years old, and I had no desire to gather retirement planning tips from someone who was too young to remember a time when telephones had dials. Robert is a great guy and really knows his stuff! He pulled everything up on a screen and gave us the big picture on where we stood. He even set us up with another financial institution that specialized in money strategy that he believed would be a better fit for us. So now I have two money people, and even though the other company handles most of our money matters, Robert still contacts me every year for a meeting.
Margaret couldn’t pry herself from the couch, so I took on the meeting as a solo this year. Although Robert took care of some updates that I wasn’t smart enough to figure out on my own, our main topic of discussion focused on my spending… or lack of. Those who barely have enough retirement cash to scrape by usually wind up that way because they possess the talent of spending. However, those who tend to have plenty of funds for their golden years achieve such a goal because they don’t spend money, and when someone gets locked into such a lifestyle over decades of practice, it tends to be a hard habit to kick.
Although my parents didn’t keep their money stuffed in mason jars buried in the backyard, they held the firm belief that money was not for spending! It was for hoarding! During my kid years I had this financial philosophy pounded into my head with a sledgehammer! A second-hand sledgehammer that is because my parents never bought anything new. As for shopping, my mother held the philosophy that we spend hours (or days) shopping for the lowest price for something, and once we have found the lowest price, we then talk ourself out of buying this something because we probably didn’t need it in the first place. This is the same woman who religiously used the same piece of aluminum foil at least ten times before tossing it. And if the truth was to be known, my dad was probably buried in the same pair of socks he wore when he graduated high school.
“Enjoy your retirement money,” Robert will tell me every time I visit him. “Because if you don’t, your step kids will certainly have a blast with it after you leave this world.” Of course he doesn’t realize that I have every intention of living forever. If not, I’m pretty sure I can think of a way to take it with me when I do depart from the living. To be honest though, spending money is a pretty serious challenge for a guy like me. I take great joy in seeing how long I can make things last. I find it amazing how a couple of pieces of well-placed duct tape can make shoes last longer. And I’m pretty proud of the fact that I can still wear the same shirts I wore in high school. Besides, I like how my wardrobe carries that early 1980’s retro vibe. As for my cars, I’m still hoping to put half a million miles on my truck. Think of the Facebook post that will make!
At least when Margaret accompanies me for these money meetings, we drive the new Subaru which still carries that new car smell. However, when I drive myself to these financial outings I’m cruising in my trusty, scratched up 2009 Chevy Silverado. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a glistening BMW SUV parked in the lot with all of its magnificent glory. I gazed at the beautiful automobile in awe, but then I realized that I could buy one just like it if I really wanted to, as well as a matching Mercedes. But that all goes against my parent’s financial training of “Live as cheap as possible!” I’m starting to resemble some of the old farmers I knew back in my younger days. These old codgers had the money to buy a new pickup truck every month of the year, but instead, they chose to drive the same old truck year after year. An old truck with only a crappy AM radio and no air conditioning. In all reality, the CD player in my Chevy might be seen in today’s world as that crappy AM radio, but it does have air conditioning. I do have my limit to cheapness. If I didn’t want to spend money on myself, Robert showed me how I could give money to charities in a way where the I.R.S. doesn’t get one red cent of it. Okay, I liked that idea. As for my spending? Who knows? Maybe I’ll go crazy next week and buy a new pair of socks.
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