Not Qualified to Carry This Anymore
Dennis Friedman | Aug 13, 2025
I’m turning into my mother more and more every day. Back when I was taking care of her, she’d hand me her credit card whenever we went shopping. She’d say, “I’m not qualified to carry this anymore.” She was afraid she’d lose it. Now I catch myself doing the same thing. When Rachel and I go out, I sometimes give her my wallet to toss in her purse. I’m scared I’ll lose it. Since I've retired, I lost my driver’s license in Paris, left my credit card at a restaurant in South Dakota, and who even knows what happened to my prescription sunglasses. I don’t know if it’s age, distraction, or just bad luck—but at this point, Rachel’s purse is basically my security system. Which is not a great idea, because if we ever lose her purse—especially when we're traveling—we’d both be without credit cards and personal identification. I’ve lost my wallet twice. In the 1970s, I went to a Cleveland Indians game at the old Municipal Stadium in Cleveland. The Indians were terrible back then. They had players most fans had never even heard of. The stadium was huge—it held over 70,000 people—but the team was so bad, it wasn’t unusual for them to draw only about 6,000 fans. At the game I attended, I remember an usher holding a white towel, escorting us to our seats, and wiping them off before we sat down. Because of the low attendance, many of the seats were dirty from lack of use. Six thousand fans could easily get lost in that cavernous stadium. I don’t know how someone managed to find the wallet I left behind, but somehow, they did. A lady mailed it to my home in California with a note that said, “Indian fans watch out for each other.”…
Read more » Two Words
Dennis Friedman | Apr 13, 2021
I’VE LATELY BEEN having a hard time sleeping—and I have a pretty good idea why. It has to do with two words that keep bouncing around inside my head. If you let them, those two words will also keep you up at night. They’re powerful because there’s no end to them. You ask, “What are the two terrible words?” The answer: what if. What ifs are about what could happen in the future and, if you let your imagination run wild, it’s usually something bad. I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. I don’t know if it has to do with turning age 70. I don’t think so. I actually feel pretty optimistic about the next decade. I’m looking forward to spending some quality time with my wife once this pandemic is under control. Still, I’ve been thinking a lot about my wife’s future, too. What happens to her if I’m no longer around? Will she have trouble supporting herself financially? Questions like these keep popping up in my head. They shouldn’t, because I believe we have these kinds of things under control. The trust we set up and our well-funded investment portfolio should help her weather any unforeseen financial challenges that come her way. Also, all our important documents and contacts are stored in a centralized location, so they’re easily accessible. If she needs professional advice, we have a relationship with a low-cost financial advisor, tax accountant, attorney and insurance agent. When pondering what ifs, there always seems to be another one. The other day, I started thinking about household emergencies. What if the hot water tank leaks? What if the electric garage door won’t close? How do I prepare my wife for those kinds of hassles? I realize the real problem resides with me. My wife is…
Read more » Little Jack
Dennis Friedman | Feb 18, 2019
I SUBSCRIBE TO a number of financial magazines, as well as a daily newspaper. Lately, they've been piling up in my garage unread. I scan the front cover of the magazines and the headlines of the newspaper, but I'm not that interested. I don't care about "Where to Invest Your Money in 2019" or "The Best Stocks for the Long Run." I guess it's because I'm no longer in charge of my investment portfolio. I have a financial advisor, Carl, who has been overseeing my investments for the past six months. And I have been satisfied with the way things have been going. Just between you and me, Carl—who is human—hasn't been selecting my investments. Instead, it's been a computer. I call the computer Little Jack, after the late Jack Bogle, because it picks nothing but index funds. Right now, Little Jack has me in a mix of six index funds that track the total U.S. stock market, total international stock market, total international bond market and three different segments of the U.S bond market—short, intermediate and long-term securities. Overall, my portfolio is 40% in stocks and 60% in bonds. I know for a fact that Little Jack hasn't read those periodicals that are piling up in my garage. If he isn’t bothering, why should I? What I like about Little Jack is that he isn’t human. There is no emotion or prejudice in picking my investments. You can't say the same thing about those magazines and newspapers in my garage, all of which are written by humans, who are quoting other humans, who are supposedly experts. I bet that, over the long run, Little Jack will beat the performance of the picks from those magazines and newspapers. I guess that's another reason those periodicals are piling up in my garage unread.…
Read more » Not My Priority
Dennis Friedman | May 22, 2019
SOME YEARS AGO, I had a health scare—and it taught me an important lesson about my relationship with money. My primary care physician wanted me to see a hematologist. “Your white blood cells have been trending lower for the last five years,” he opined. “We need to find out what’s causing it.” After a number of tests, the hematologist thought I might have a rare blood disease. He said the test results were inconclusive, but I fit the profile. He wanted to confirm his suspicions by performing a bone marrow biopsy. He went on to say that there was no cure for the disease, but there were drugs that could extend a patient’s life. The doctor’s comments shook me to the core. Suddenly, I faced the possibility that my time on earth might run out far sooner than I expected. I started thinking about the things in my life that are important to me. How do I protect, experience and enjoy them? The following were the first things I did after leaving the doctor’s office that day: I reviewed the beneficiaries on my retirement accounts to make sure the people who are important to me would be taken care of. I reviewed my trust to confirm it reflected my current wishes on how my estate would be distributed to family, friends and charitable organizations. I verified that the powers of attorney for my finances and health care were in order. I wanted someone who could oversee my affairs if I became incapacitated. I checked my passport to make sure it hadn’t expired. I wanted to visit many countries and landmarks that I hadn’t yet had a chance to experience. Looking back, I realized the things that were most important in my life during this stressful time—besides my health—were my family,…
Read more » Wasting Energy
Dennis Friedman | Dec 11, 2023
I TRY NOT TO WORRY too much these days. Although I’m retired, it doesn’t mean my life is carefree. There’s always something I could worry about. After all, as we age, we tend to have more health problems to fret about, and just as many money issues. We can also find ourselves alone for the first time in decades without our partner, the stabilizing force in our life. My mother worried a lot after my father passed away. It got so bad she couldn’t sleep at night. She said she couldn’t turn off all the bad thoughts that kept her awake. I think a lot had to do with my mother never sleeping alone during the 41 years that she and my father lived in their house. Without her husband, she no longer felt secure in her own home. After my wife left for six weeks to take care of her mother, I got a glimpse of what my mother must have been feeling. With Rachel gone, I too felt uneasy staying in our home alone, and my parents were together a lot longer than Rachel and I have been. I can only begin to imagine what my mother was going through. Still, I think it was good that I spent some time in the house on my own, so that one day I might not worry so much if I’m the one who’s left behind. Over the years, the one thing I’ve learned about worrying: It’s usually all for nothing. Most of the time, it’s a lot of wasted energy that could have been put to better use. I’d like to believe that, as I’ve grown older, I’ve done a better job of living a worry-free life. At age 72, you’d think I would have experienced enough stuff that…
Read more » Be Prepared
Dennis Friedman | Mar 18, 2020
WHEN I WENT TO THE grocery store last week, it was packed with customers stocking up on essentials. Carts were filled with items that people couldn’t possibly consume in any reasonable period of time. It’s a scene that’s been repeated across the country. A friend told me: “When people panic, they want things right away. When people see other people panic, they panic, too.” Like the coronavirus, fear is highly contagious. I’m not panicking, and yet there are reasons I should feel unease: Like many other Americans, I have money in the stock market. I don’t have a monthly pension, so I’m dependent primarily on my investment portfolio to fund my retirement. I’m trying to sell my condo. My real estate agent told me we should lower the asking price by $20,000. The feedback I’m getting from my agent is that the coronavirus and the stock market decline are instilling fear in prospective buyers. I’m about to remodel my new home. Every room in the house will be affected. This will probably be one of the biggest expenses during my retirement, and yet the project is starting just as global uncertainty is skyrocketing. Why aren’t I more fearful? To be sure, there isn’t yet a vaccine to stop the coronavirus from spreading. But there are things we can control in our financial lives that can ease our sense of fear. Indeed, there are three reasons I’m not rattled by what’s happening around me. First, I’ve saved for a lifetime. Without knowing that today’s pandemic would happen, I’ve been planning for this crisis since I graduated college. As a young adult, I got a feel for what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck—and I didn’t like it. I made up mind that I wasn’t going to save for my dream…
Read more »
Many seniors think we paid for our Social Security benefits based on the FICA taxes we paid. Let’s dispel that myth- we didn’t
R Quinn | Jun 15, 2026
How do you prepare for the long term care cost as retiree?
achnk53 | Jun 21, 2026
Thinking about downsizing? Think seriously
R Quinn | Jun 21, 2026
Still Teaching
Dan Smith | Jun 22, 2026
TSP G Fund as the only Fixed Income Investment
Mark Ukleja | Jun 21, 2026
Close to Everything I Need
ArticleDennis Friedman | Jun 20, 2026
What’s in your portfolio ?
Larry | Jun 12, 2026
What Addiction Couldn’t Take: My Sister’s Story
Andrew Clements | Jun 17, 2026
Leverage
Catherine | Jun 19, 2026
How financially illiterate are Americans?
R Quinn | Jun 19, 2026
Not Dead Yet
ArticleDavid Gartland | May 9, 2024
FOR MY BIRTHDAY this year, my wife gave me a card that declares, “Not Dead Yet.” That might sound morbid, but I laughed. The reason: My wife had misinterpreted something I used to say to colleagues at my final job.
When they saw me at the coffee machine, they’d often ask, “How are you doing, Dave?”
Instead of saying “fine,” I used to say, “I’m still breathing. Count your blessings. Blessing No. 1: I’m still breathing.”
In many cases, I’d get an amen, or colleagues would chuckle, or they’d say something positive. My wife saw it differently.
She always thought it meant I was done with living and getting ready to die, which is the furthest thing from the truth. In fact, I was—and still am—celebrating the here and now, expressing gratitude for still being alive.
My latest birthday is one of my most significant. It’s my required minimum distribution (RMD) birthday, meaning I just turned 73. With this birthday, I’ve achieved the final financial goal I set for myself. I wanted to hold off all withdrawals from my IRA—which I first opened when I was age 27—until I was forced to by the tax rules. To celebrate this milestone, I’ll be giving away my entire RMD as qualified charitable distributions (QCDs) to the charities I’ve selected. To help both me and one of the charities, a portion of my QCD will purchase a charitable gift annuity.
While I consider 73 to be a special birthday, I didn’t want any presents. It isn’t that I don’t like gifts. Rather, I don’t like what my wife buys me—because they’re usually things she thinks I need, not things I want. Often, it’s clothes that my wife would like to see me wear.
But this year was different. I received a ream of printer paper, a T-shirt that says “real cars don't shift themselves,” a bag of Hershey’s dark chocolate kisses, a grabber because my son wants me to help him collect roadside trash, three lottery scratch-off tickets that yielded winnings of $6, and lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant. In other words, my wife gave me things I needed and liked, and there wasn’t anything I had to return.
Now that I’ve notched my final financial milestone birthday, I’ll be measuring the passage of time in days, not years. Every day I’m alive is a reason to celebrate.
I have heard of people who have weekend-long, or week-long or month-long birthday celebrations. But mine will be a celebration every day for the rest of my life. I’m still breathing. What could be a better reason to celebrate?
Risk Adjusted: The Family Ledger
Mark Crothers | Jun 18, 2026
Pricing the Future
ArticleAdam M. Grossman | Jun 20, 2026