life

Transitions Mean Change

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One of the hardest things about major life transitions is that many habits, customs, traditions, and ways of doing things become obsolete or counter-productive at once. It takes time to deal with these cascading effects, big and small, on our lives.

One friend who lost a spouse to a fast-progressing illness had to quickly deal with decades of deferred home maintenance, previously a mutually agreeable way of life. Who had time to fix stuff when leisure pursuits or travel beckoned? It was a difficult situation.

Another had to confront a set of retirement intentions that had everything to do with the couple, but zero to do with the survivor. It was like waking up a few years before retirement, with plans that made no sense at all, and no prior thoughts about alternatives.

And many are forced to learn how to deal with things a spouse formerly handled: everything from oil changes to investment decisions. If the spouse had been a do-it-yourselfer in a particular role, the survivor sometimes has trouble envisioning the need to pay for services. Their life experience taught them that paying for that service is not worth it.

That lesson is incomplete, of course. Paying for the service is not worth it if you have the interest, knowledge and experience to do it yourself. But when the experience and knowledge is taken out of the equation, then the DIY course may be vexing and expensive.

Changing circumstances sometimes require a change in ways of doing things. What was done before made sense for the conditions that prevailed then. It can be hard to recognize the things that have changed. Our affection for those who are gone sometimes leaks into a positive view of their way of doing things, even when those ways may no longer be appropriate.

My own life experience has taught me patience and empathy for survivors who are grappling with these things. Each of us is on our own journey. We each make decisions in our own time, when they make sense to us. All we can do here at 228 Main is listen, provide a framework for thinking about things, and support people going through transitions.

Clients, if you would like to talk about this or anything else, please email us or call.

Life and Savannah, Georgia

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Traveling recently, I had the chance to spend 24 hours in Savannah rather than drive right by. This is a new thing again for me; my life has been too full for side trips most of the last few years.

At best, 24 hours does not even scratch the surface of a city like Savannah. The largest historic district in the country included markets, churches, temples, homes, and mansions. Now it is also home to museums, shops and restaurants.

The unique and beautiful squares or parks, more than twenty, were originally laid out from 1733 to 1801. Many have fountains or statues or otherwise commemorate notables from history. Ancient and stately oaks grace the squares, and indeed the entire city.

The river features shops, entertainment, and dining housed in the centuries-old brick buildings originally used to service a working waterfront.

In preparing for this day, it took some time to understand what all there was to see and do. And then, how to make the most of it? Trolley tours, boat tours, guided walking tours, solo hiking, or some combination?

(I won’t bore you with my decisions; they suited me. Yours would be, or will be, different.)

The task of figuring out how to spend 24 hours in Savannah, Georgia is akin to how we live our lives. When we choose to focus our time and energy, we forsake everything else for a time. And we can never get around to all that the world offers. And the span of our lives in the world is every bit as limited as 24 hours in Savannah.

I did learn that with planning you can see a great deal in Savannah in 24 hours; I am still in the process of learning that with planning you can do a great deal in life.

Clients, if you would like to talk about this or anything else, please email us or call.

Richard R. Berner, In Memoriam

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My old friend Dick Berner passed away recently, at the age of 89. Although afflicted with chronic and serious conditions, he was making plans to get out of bed and start taking care of business again, all the way to the end. When not totally lucid from the effects of pain medication, he spoke about working on imaginary deals.

Dick was an early mentor. He hired me to come to Louisville when I was just 22 and living near where I grew up in the middle of Omaha. He taught me more about working with people in a few days than I had learned in 18 months as a life insurance agent.

He would have been about 48 when we met, and was operating an insurance agency, a savings company, a bulk oil distributor, an auto parts store, and a fledgling new vehicle dealership. Just a few years prior, he got out of a more established dealership. (It operates on a much larger scale today in the hands of his son-in-law and daughter, forty years later.)

Within a few years of meeting, he started developing acreages and homesites, and got his real estate license. For most of the last thirty years, real estate was his primary business.

Dick was tireless in business, endlessly working on new ideas, always thinking. And he nearly lived out my long-held ambition of working to age 92.

Perhaps because he had always figured things out and was not afraid of new ideas, he challenged me with new things all the time. I got a business education right on Main Street in Louisville that was priceless. It has served me well ever since.

Life is filled with joy and pain. The mortality rate, being 100%, is a source of some of that pain. But the lives we lead tell a story. It fills me with joy that I got to be a small part of Dick’s story, and have him be such an important part of my story.

Rest in peace, old friend.

Make the Most of It

© Can Stock Photo / AntonioGuillem

All seven billion of us have the same job. Whether we are among the poorest or wealthiest, sickest or healthiest, a single task unites us: wake up every day and make the most of it.

Taking that one step farther, we each can increase our ability to do things, to be better, to be stronger. Beginning each day a little better, a little stronger than the day before, that helps us make the most of it.

I won’t pretend to know or prescribe what you should eat or drink, how you should live, whether to exercise, or give you health tips. My professional expertise is devoted strictly to striving to grow your buckets, for use in your real life.

When you entrust me to help you with your wealth, I owe you the effort to make the most of it. Wouldn’t it be better for you if my brain was a little bigger? After all, thinking is how I do my job. The Harvard Health Blog recently cited studies that show exercise boosts the size of parts of the brain involved in memory and learning.

So exercise may be helping me make the most of it, in ways that help you, too.
This is a win-win choice: I have other, selfish reasons for exercise that have nothing to do with you. But if Harvard is correct, you get an advisor with a bigger brain out of the deal.

This essay began with a focus on the day to day, making the most of it. Oddly, my longest-range goal brings me to the same choice about exercise. It will help me serve you until I am 92 years old.

This congruence between my fondest ambitions and my daily life is good for you, too. Win-win.

Clients, if you would like to talk about this or anything else, please email us or call.

Louisville, My Home Sweet Home

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Planning to work to age 92 has a side effect: there is no date any time soon after which I can do what I want. Cathy and I knew this. A decade ago we figured out that we needed to have some fun along the way. That’s how the whole snowbird plan got started.

Snowbirds are people who go south for part or all of the winter, migrating north to their homes in the spring. We began doing that in 2010, for a few winter months. It was the best of both worlds. We had our home in Nebraska to enjoy most of the year, close to friends and family, and a place to get some weeks of warmth in the dead of winter.

A couple years after we began this, Cathy’s health went south. She was diagnosed with a slew of pretty awful lung conditions. We were able to continue our snowbird routine. Her rising need for oxygen eventually made flying impossible, so we simply drove back and forth.

Three years ago, things got to where long road trips were no longer possible. She had to choose where to live. The specialists who saved her life and continued to treat her are in the south. And Nebraska winter weather could be fatal in a power outage or a stalled car. Staying in the south became a matter of medical necessity for Cathy.

At the same time, health insurance paid the bills for stuff that kept Cathy alive. My small group policy required me to maintain Nebraska residency. And I needed to be in the shop at 228 Main Street for a bit every month. (Our work for you helped Cathy, because it’s expensive to be sick.) I became a long-range commuter. Cathy could remain in the warmth and I could keep the business end going.

Cathy got extra years of life with the help of Florida weather and Florida doctors—important years, in which children got married and grandbabies were born. With her passing, I can focus again on life in Louisville, my home. I’ll be selling Cathy’s Florida house – it’s too much, and in the wrong place.

We have come full circle, back to the original situation. I’m going to work to age 92, so I need to figure out how to have some fun along the way. Bottom line, I’ll be spending much more time at home in Louisville.

Clients, if you would like to talk about this or anything else, please email us or call.

Minesweeper, Free Cell and the Nature of Life

© Can Stock Photo / paulgrecaud

I recently upgraded my primary computer, a Microsoft Surface tablet. After using only a touchpad and touch screen for a few years, I decided to try using a mouse again. One quick way to acclimate is by playing games in my downtime.

The solitaire card game FreeCell has a fundamental difference from the puzzle game Minesweeper. Any game of FreeCell may be won, with enough thought or trial and error. You may go back to it as many times as you want to solve it. It is possible to win every game, sooner or later.

Minesweeper, on the other hand, forces you to make decisions from a position of uncertainty. You can know many things about the terrain, but not everything. You can learn more by leveraging what you know. But in the final analysis, you must act even though you cannot know everything you want to know. Sometimes you set off a mine, and that game is lost.

If investing were like FreeCell, all we would have to do is study and think enough, and every holding would be a winner. But investing is like Minesweeper—we cannot know everything we would prefer to know, and sometimes things blow up.

Some approaches to investing try to make it look like FreeCell: charts and graphs and computer models, all very scientific. But you know and we know it is like Minesweeper, prone to periodic blowups. There is no point in trying to disguise the nature of the game. The markets go up and down. Some years are down years. Volatility is an inherent part of long-term investing.

In other words, investing is a lot like life itself. We do the best we can with what we have, and deal with the surprises as they come up.

Clients, if you would like to talk about this or anything else, please email us or call.

The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual. All performance referenced is historical and is no guarantee of future results.

The economic forecasts set forth in this material may not develop as predicted and there can be no guarantee that strategies promoted will be successful.

Living the Reality

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We have heard the phrase “living the dream” when someone describes a life in which everything is going well. I have used it myself once or twice.

But the truth is life has rough spots. What dream would include family and friends with chronic diseases and other issues, funerals for those we admire or love, and all the other challenges one might face?

Of course, there are joyous and glorious things in life, too. Most of us would have a difficult time counting all of our blessings. So joy and pain—both are part of the deal. Some have it better, some have it worse, and our fortunes do fluctuate.

We believe the long-term view that serves investors well is also valuable in keeping the bad patches in perspective. “This too shall pass” is helpful in thinking about both the worst times in our lives and economic recessions or market turmoil. One may find glimmers of hope for better days even on bad days.

Another way to cope is to find ways to soften or cushion or rebalance some of our worries. I outsource worrying about the lawn to a lawn service, for example, while I get to worry more about how to grow your buckets. Hopefully, by letting us worry about your buckets for you, you might have less worrying to do. If we can do that, we will know that our work has value and we are probably doing something right.

We are not living the dream. We are living the reality, coping when we need to, celebrating when we can. That is life in all its glory.

So grateful you are a part of it.

Clients, if you would like to talk about this or anything else, please email us or call.

The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual.

All investing involves risk including loss of principal. No strategy assures success or protects against loss.