My senior year of college wasn’t filled with the dread that some of my classmates seemed to carry.  All the “countdown” parties went on without me; I didn’t feel the need to squeeze the last bit of juice out of my carefree days as a student.  I was itching to get on with it; the next big event in my life was hovering on the horizon and was taking forever to arrive.  I was impatient for my real life to begin.

Had I not been so doe-eyed, I might have clung to every moment of what was slipping through my hands.  I might have even curled up in the safe arms of another university to pursue a master’s or law degree.  But I was arrogant, ignorant and without a plan.  What could possibly go wrong?

It was the spring of 1987 when I graduated.  As my initiation into the business world, I went to various personnel agencies with the same results.  My fanny was promptly plunked before an electric typewriter and I was asked to type as fast and as accurately as I could in a minute.  No pressure.

I tried to tell them that there was some mistake because I had a degree; if my typing speed was a determining factor for employment, I was in deep trouble.  I looked to my left and I looked to my right – no guys were on the typewriters.  I guess this was a sign of the times.

I finally landed a job where my boss didn’t care how quickly I typed.  The only problem was within five months of starting this job and renting an apartment, the market crashed.  Many people lost their jobs as financial firms seemed to tumble like dominoes.

Being entry level, I was cheap labor and I managed to never be without work; yet, I also felt trapped into staying where I clearly didn’t want to belong.  But rent, bills and student loans were my responsibility, and I was raised to always meet my responsibilities (even if I felt like a trapped mink, ready to gnaw off a body part just to get free).

What did I have to complain about anyway?  I was 22, living on my own, paying my own way and I was employed.  This was no time for a pity party, but there was time during my hellish commute to lower Manhattan to fantasize about winning the lottery and buying my freedom from this mundane life I was living.

Fantasy gave way to reality; no, I didn’t win the lottery, but I began playing regularly.  It seemed one of the few things I could control and it sparked a bit of joy in me.  Had I just put some of that money away and invested it, maybe the more fulfilling moments of my life would have arrived sooner.  I’ll never know and I’ll never get back that time.

But, I did see a correlation between my lottery playing relative to my overall satisfaction with life; it was an inverse relationship, like a see-saw.  The lower I felt, the more I would play.  When I felt like I was moving in an upward direction, I didn’t even think about playing; I was excited enough by my life.  I had created my very own Misery Index and didn’t even know it.

At the heart of it, I was looking for something that money really couldn’t provide all by itself.  Yes, it might have helped speed things along, but it might have derailed me.  Misery can be a motivator to make changes; comfort can lead to complacency.

Over the last few days, I read three interesting blog posts from my colleagues.  Nick Maggiulli wrote about the life-altering effects of money and why it cannot be measured or predicted by data.  Barry Ritholtz wrote about the privilege of taking a thoughtful approach to being productive.   Josh Brown wrote about the importance of why we work. All three struck a chord with me.

Nick examines a lottery winner who had already been wealthy; in spite of his savvy and good intentions he implodes and loses everything.   This is an interesting twist, as it is typically the rags-to-riches-to rags stories we hear about.

How is it that someone with financial success, skill and knowledge could blow this?  Nick analyzes data to draw conclusions and there just isn’t data to predict the human response to the adrenaline rush a windfall can create.

My own personal hunch is that the hunger that led this wealthy man to look for a big win had absolutely nothing to do with money at all.  Money is a beautiful, quantifiable distraction when life is unsatisfying.  At the end of the day, looking at a big net worth number might take the sting out of the suck of life – but after a while that salve won’t ease what is really causing all that chafing.  If life is going off the rails money can speed up the process by miles, and it makes for a wickedly colorful crash and burn.

Barry addresses that by not operating on the gerbil wheel of chasing sales, we are able to slow down and be more deliberate and focused in our efforts as a firm.  This leads to a productivity that can be measured in fulfillment, and not merely output for output’s sake.  We are how we invest our time.  When that is in lock-step what we truly value, life becomes richer – and no, I’m not talking about the green stuff (and yes, it is a privilege).

Josh writes about another one of our colleagues, Alex Palumbo, who didn’t dilly-dally in getting on a career course that has meaning to him.  Like many of us, he started out in this industry in a soul-crushing way.  Unlike me (and Josh and many others) he got the hell out as soon as he could.  He wanted to work at something that had meaning to him and as a result, his career is off to an impressive start.

As Josh points out, “Alex needs a Why, not just a What or a How Much in order to find himself in the working world.”

I would argue we all need this in life – not just in work.  Without meaning, it is tempting to fill up on other excitements, such as lottery playing/gambling, boozing, drugging, and cheating, etc.

Having more money isn’t going to ease a dissatisfied life.

That Misery Index can soar off the charts for many reasons; take the time to discover what your reasons are before you buy that scratch-off.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I had the privilege of attending a parent/student meeting at South Side High School in Rockville Centre the other night.  For a change, I was neither an attending parent nor a presenter; I was a very interested observer for a number of reasons.

As a mother to teenagers, I was happy to see a school district take a novel approach to support teens in making better choices.  It’s hard enough to do the right thing in life; when you’re young and inexperienced, filled with emotions and dying to be cool – it’s that much more difficult.

The event was mandatory for teens attending the Prom and their parents.  The expectations for a trouble-free, alcohol/substance-free weekend were firmly outlined; any sign of indulging would be met with a breathalyzer (when appropriate) and being removed from Prom and the graduation ceremony.  The PTA organizes a post-Prom party free to all students, filled with activities, food, music and cash giveaways to give students a safe after-party experience.

It was important to have the parents there as witnesses – there would be no room for negotiation on these rules.  Anyone violating the school policy during the Prom, graduation rehearsal or the graduation itself would not march in the procession.

After the rules and expectations were covered, students had the chance to meet a good friend of mine — someone who had the misfortune of making a critical error in judgment; one that would haunt him forever.  He was there to reinforce the fact that invincibility is a mirage for us mere mortals – especially for over-confident teens with impulsive tendencies.

It was December 1981 when Peter Hawkins (then 17) attended a party for a classmate.  To put the times in perspective –MADD and SADD were in their infancy.  In N.Y., the drinking age was 18 and a driver’s license was without an identifying photo.  In short, it was a pretty lax climate for underage drinking.

The party was held at a bar, though most of the kids were 17.  Peter decided not to drive that night, because he planned on drinking; he had a ride and so he was set to do what he wanted that evening.  And that is where this story goes off the rails.

At 17, the ability to make a good decision can be pretty difficult; add alcohol to the mix and it’s downright impossible.  And so, Peter made the mistake of trusting that his friend was okay to drive.  Had he been sober, he would have realized that his friend was also drunk; had he been sober, maybe he would have been the one driving and the night would have ended differently.

Instead, he promptly fell asleep in the passenger’s seat, without a seatbelt on.  His friend decided to cap off the evening with a drag race that ejected Peter from the car, severing his spinal cord, paralyzing him from the waist down.

A year older than me, I knew Peter as captain of our football team, an incredible athlete who, in spite of a slight frame was as tough as nails.  His accident had a deep impact on the entire school even for those, like me, who only knew him casually.  It was a few weeks before Christmas and this young man – a force of nature, known for his signature flip in the end-zone – was in a coma; the heaviness was felt by the entire school.

As he spoke to the students at South Side High, he didn’t spare himself blame; he didn’t hold back on personal details on how the accident did more than take his ability to use his legs; he held himself out as a cautionary tale.

For some mistakes in life, there is no do-over or ‘I’m sorry’ that erases the difficult consequences.  Giving away your personal responsibility to someone else doesn’t excuse you from owning the poor outcome.  Some things in life you get to wear, whether it is fair or not.

The best you can do is to share these mistakes in the hopes that someone else gets spared making these mistakes.  That is what Peter does every time he bares his journey to teens.

I can’t help but connect all this to financial health, which is my role in life.  How many times do I hear investors blame their plan on the fact that they turned over their power to someone else – someone who maybe wasn’t fully equipped to actually deliver good financial oversight or worse, someone with bad intentions?

Who you choose to look out for you is an important decision; one you should never take lightly.  Being “nice” is no substitute for being competent; being a “friend” doesn’t mean they are the best ones to look out for you.

Yet, people make this mistake every day by failing to look into the professional – or the financial firm – to check for violations or disciplinary actions.  They don’t ask questions that might be uncomfortable.  They work with people who have no legal obligation to look out for their best interests, and somehow they think the financial professional is going to give them care above and beyond what is required.

In fact, they don’t even know the difference between a salesperson and a fiduciary (one who must always put the client’s needs first).  And, they don’t realize that the vast majority of financial service professionals do not work as fiduciaries.

Every day I have to shake some shoulders and ask: “Why would you trust a business model that revolves around selling you stuff and not your end result?  Why would you put your long-term financial well-being into that kind of conflicted model?”

If everyone in life acted as a fiduciary in every aspect of life, the world would be a safer place for all.  Peter’s friend would not have gotten drunk and driven, and he certainly would not have chosen to drag race.

Peter’s fatal flaw was failing to realize that the first step starts with being clear-headed and carefully deciding into whose hands you place said trust.  It’s a mistake he offers up to spare someone that painful lesson.

Clearly, the administration of South Side High School is acting as a fiduciary in educating  students about the dangers that can derail a person’s journey and by supporting them so it is easier to choose wisely.

At the end of the night, I complimented the principal, John Murphy, for going to great lengths to keep the kids safe; noting that in the school district where I live it is fairly common for seniors to rent a house in the Hamptons, unsupervised for the weekend.  Many parents are afraid to be the spoiler so they allow their kids to go; knowing full well that this is a dangerous situation in the making (not to mention a potential lawsuit, should things go astray).

He said that he has taken flak from parents because the school keeps Prom, post-Prom, rehearsal and graduation on a narrow timeline so kids can’t engage in an unsupervised weekend, but I am sure there are plenty of parents who are relieved that someone is truly looking out for their kids.

I’m grateful for my friend, Peter, who decided long ago that it was worth revisiting a painful decision and sharing it if it prevents someone from making an irreversible mistake.  I’m inspired by what I saw that night.   In spite of what ugliness I have seen in the financial services industry, there are many people in life who choose to do the right thing to help others and who generously share their knowledge for good; and not because they have to.

Peter is one of those guys.

I had the pleasure of speaking  with Dina Cataldo of Soul Roadmap podcast to discuss “How to Reach Your Money Goals.”  She has put together an informative and inspiring show aimed at giving people tools and strategies to live their best lives, and she covers a myriad of topics.

It was a lively discussion and it inspired me to put together an Investor Self Defense Checklist to help make sure your financial plan works for you:

 ____I have an emergency fund of 3-6 months’ worth of living expenses (more, if self-employed).

____ I know what debt I carry, the rates I pay and am working towards paying off debt.

____ I participate in an employer-sponsored retirement plan (e.g., 401(k), 403(b), Simple IRA, etc.) because it lowers my taxable income and helps me save for retirement.

____ If I don’t have a retirement plan offered to me, I contribute every year to either a Roth IRA or Traditional IRA (maximum investment amount is $5,500 per year for those under 50; $6,500 for those 50 or older).

____ I save 20% of my income and, if not, I plan on reaching that percentage of savings in years by increasing the amount I am saving every year by __% (this includes all sources, and any contributions to retirement plans).

____ I contribute to my company retirement plan and get the employer match (free money).

____ I don’t own share class funds (A, B, C, D) which have sales charges / high fees.

____  I have gone to FINRA’s Fund Analyzer to look up my fund expenses.

____  My financial advisor, a fee-only fiduciary, does not earn commissions to sell product.

____  I do not own annuities in IRA, Roth IRA or other retirement account, such as a 403(b).

____  Money I need to fund short-term goals (5 years or less) is in cash.

____  Investments in stocks or mutual funds are with money not needed for 10 years or more.

____  I own a mix of stocks (U.S. and foreign) and bonds (high-quality U.S. bonds).

____  I understand why I own what I own in my portfolio.

____  I communicate with my advisor about any changes in my financial life (e.g., debt, employment, marital status, health, inheritance, birth of a child/grandchild, income).

____  I have a will, health care proxy, durable power of attorney and, for my minor children, a Guardian and Trustee set up in the event they are ever orphaned.

____  I have term life insurance that will cover my income until my children reach age 22.