Money, Money Everywhere - Part 5 by '21

A couple of weeks ago, thunderstorms moved across the country pouring tons of water onto homes and farms everywhere, including here. One minute we were sleeping peacefully, the next our basement water alarm sent us scrambling down the stairs. Three hours later, the maple-tree windmills were out of the gutters, the storm drain in the outer stairwell was finally unclogged, and the pump was working at its usual frenetic pace. It could have been worse. But it reminded us that while we talk about fixing things around here, we haven't been very good about doing it. To build this place to asset-worthy status, we have to earn it. And we've let it slide, big time.

Earning money is hard, isn't it? We think only of our jobs when we think "earn it," but there are more ways to earn money than there are stars in the sky. Employment is one way, of course, the primary way we pay our bills - as well as give our elves something to work their magic on. It can be more than that, and should be, but isn’t always. I am paid as a teacher and a tutor, and because I was born to do it, I love what I do – even my writing (past and present) is instructive. A job can be a way to mark time (as with most people) or it can be a calling (as with me) but since the way we recognize and utilize our talents is our biggest asset, choosing a career in an area in which we are "naturals" should be a priority. If we love what we do, it doesn't feel as much like work - and it usually means more money, too.

However, if work it must be, why not make it work that gets you rebates or discounts? My boys love electronic games, so for two years I worked at our local video store, where I received five free rentals each week. I actually made more in rental savings than I made in my part-time wages. Because of the house's shabby condition, I recently looked into working at Home Depot to get discounts on the mountain of drywall and lumber and tools we will need to fix it, but the hours conflicted with prime tutoring time.

Earning can also be learning. As I’ve already stated, I don’t believe in luck but in being able to recognize when a good opportunity comes my way. So I read (books on antiques, investing, and gemstones - seriously, I want to find rubies! – on writing, real estate, and even just books for inspiration), and I take classes (writing, DIY) and watch the Discovery and Travel channels every chance I get. Honestly, I love to learn as much as I love to teach.

Earning is also paying dues. I’ve screwed up a lot, with money, with jobs, with people, you name it. The attempts to make up for those mistakes have resulted in wisdom, and in doing things right, and well. I am very, very good at what I do, and I’m paid accordingly, which, in turn, keeps me on my toes and working even harder to be worthy of the trust … and keeps the income flowing.

I’ve also decided to have a yard sale. Okay, an "Extravaganza!" My addiction to the second-hand has been piling up, just a bit. It’s time to clear the house – stuff my friends didn’t want, things I’ve shrunk out of, my own decorating mistakes that I just can’t seem to part with, and even some of my high-end collectibles (which I will sell on eBay if they don’t sell here). I’ve enlisted my kids, my friends, and I’m even thinking of hiring a couple of strong local backs to help load things. (Anyone who says a yard sale is an easy way to make money hasn’t seen my house!)

Hmm, a huge yard sale and eBay, the Big Lug and I strapping on our tool belts and hitting the DIY trail, trips to hunt antiques and to rock hound, contests and lottery entries and bingo, writing the Great American Novel, and me, wandering the investment maze all alone …

It’s going to be an interesting few years, isn’t it?

Money, Money Everywhere - Part Three

A solid, strong figure. A leather sectional sofa. An aptitude for math and puzzles. A tendency to over-indulge and keep it under the skin. A Hummel figurine from the '30's. A reproduction Empire-era four-poster bedroom suite. Short legs and big feet. Costume jewelry from the Jazz Age and WWII. A taste for spicy food. A piano and a dining room that stores everything and seats sixteen. A lack of ticklish.

I've inherited so much in my (nearly) half-century on this planet. However, though all of the genetics are from my ancestors, little of the stuff is. Mostly, those items have come from friends and acquaintances who move (and to whom I promise to pass the windfall along rather than sell it), or friends who change their minds and/or decor. Around here, we believe that the circle of life includes Basset, Ikea, and American Standard.

Inheritance seems like the easiest of the five ways to get money - all you have to do is sit back and wait for it to come to you, right? But it's much more complicated than that in reality. Inheritance, in fact, takes a lot of work. You must cultivate relationships, after all, and that's hard - harder still when there’s stuff involved. Money and things can cause the most horrific rifts between siblings, steps, exes, and buddies, and produce sorrow, anger, or guilt in the recipient. If we inherit not at the passing of a loved one but through the generosity of a friend, we might even find our inner cynical-suspicion guy, excessive-obligation woman, and can-everyone-else-really-see-how-broke-I-am gal. Traditionally, in fact, inheritance can be the Spartan 300 of emotional workouts. But only when you’re doing it wrong.

I let that all go years ago, and not just because my family has little to leave. When our daughter was born, the Big Lug and I were still in college. We had one income, which was part-time and small. I almost died due to complications, and it was over a hundred degrees every day for two months afterward. My pride wasn't worth my health, or the nakedness of my child, so I accepted a small air conditioner from a parent, a hefty credit to our heftier hospital bill (no insurance), a 30-gallon bag full of clothing from a neighbor (who, by the way, had less than we did), money from a public grant, and help with both house- and baby-work from a friend. Although I've had my stiff and obstinate moments, I remember what I owe for those early kindnesses.

Now, before I’m nominated for sainthood, I must confess that I was more Gordon Gecko than Mother Theresa at the time, that it’s still touch and go even now. We are born selfish and we default to that position every chance we get, especially when role models were lacking. Back then, I took it as my due, or at least I didn’t let it trouble my sleep. It was only later, when I got my head out of my ass, that I remembered those amazing acts of generosity and grace.

They shaped who I wanted to be, the inheritance I wanted to leave. Every day, I try to repay … not the people, because I could never do enough for those who saved my life, my finances, and my sanity, but repay the source itself. Whether you believe it's Karmic cycle, the Deeper Well, God's blessings, the Universe, or the great quantum pool, that's what you must focus on, and always be willing to part with as much (or more) as you receive - because this particular wheel does not turn by expectation or getting. It turns by giving, wherever and whenever you can, and doing so unconditionally.

And when you know this fact deep down, and truly put it to use, your life - whether you give or you get - will always be just one surprise away from a miracle.

Now that's fun!

Money, Money Everywhere - Part Two

Years ago, when we were still struggling even to make bills every month, I found a hobby that suited me to a "T" - contesting. Desperate for cash, a stay-at-home mom with three young children, I spent hour after hour pouring over my monthly newsletter (obtained for a minimal yearly cost), deciding which sweepstakes to enter. I would then laboriously fill out dozens of 3 X 5 cards with my name and address and whatever was required, hand write the destination on #10 envelopes (no machine-printed entries accepted), stuff and stamp them (stamps were 22 cents), and walk them to the post office (no car) to mail them. Then I would wait, hoping and praying, that I would be lucky enough to win The Big One - the payout that would solve all our problems and set us for life.

And I did win. Barbie dolls. Autographed baseballs. Hats. Shoes and handbags. All kinds of cool little items. But not a single dollar. All in all, I figure the year I spent contesting netted me about ... minus $250.00.

Recently, I decided to check out modern contesting. Holy Jimmy the Greek, there's a lot out there, and it's almost all online - stamp-free, envelope-free, free-free! Well, free-free if you don't mind a flurry of "courtesy" calls in the week or so after you enter, which I don't. Caller ID is cheaper than USPS, and who knows - I might win!

Understand, however, that I'm going into this with a completely different attitude these days. We're no longer frantic for cash - this fiscal adventure is not from that dark place at all. And I now know that luck is not a factor.

Now, not to believe in luck is almost un-American. Tales of seemingly small actions resulting in riches and fame beyond our wildest dreams of avarice keep us buying those tickets and pulling those slot machines. But it's not luck. Not exactly.

"But," you say, "what about Publisher's Clearing House, or Lana Turner's discovery in that drug store, or that rock band, or my buddy who found a $50 bill on the sidewalk, or ..."

None of it. People who win big contests entered them - and with a gambling win, they probably shelled out more over time than the win brought in, because the house always has a huge advantage. Those who hit it big in entertainment or sports or business or science work for decades in order to make sure they are ready to capitalize on the "big break" - even if Lana's story is true, she didn't catch the producer's eye the minute she hit town but after years of putting her face all over Hollywood. And your friend who found the cash simply saw it - after thirty people who were wrapped up in their own problems walked right over it.

Winning stuff depends on taking action, not on trusting so-called "luck." It's all about making sure you're in the way of chance, probability, the good fortune that is always there, just waiting to find someone - anyone. Money is out there, in every crack and crevice of both our planet and our economy, but it's going to find someone who's trying to find it first.

Winning money, in my book, depends on little or no investment except one of time. There are tons of web sites devoted to contests, as I found. I go to one of these clearing-house sites monthly (so far), click on the cash-prize sweepstakes list (mostly), and then enter only those through companies I recognize, both in case of scams (educate yourself about these) and to insure payout should I win. Some sweeps require a one-time entry, all of which I do the day I see them. Others accept daily entries. These I bookmark and return to as often as I sign onto the internet - not daily, but about four times a week. My favorites are those that are nearly auto-enter - after the first time, I simply put my email address into the correct slot, hit enter, and watch the page fill in. Otherwise, it's just typing - time, and your manicure, is all you can lose.

State-run lotteries also are a favorite, but I buy only one ticket, and only for the bigger lotteries. I know the odds. I also know that buying a thousand entries does not substantially increase my chance of winning. That single string of numbers puts me solidly in the way of the probabilities just as much as multiples would.

When I can catch them, I also call into radio stations when they're running a giveaway. I just have trouble catching them. If you have a super-powered redialler and the time to use it, this would be a great option. I always seem to get the word when I'm in the car.

Some game shows also fit this category, but not all - some are a lot of work! However, more depend on either the knowledge you already possess (Wheel of Fortune) or on your personality to be chosen to play (The Price is Right). Those look like a blast to me!

The only gambling I'm likely to do any time at all is Bingo. I have the most amazing memories of playing every summer when we'd camp in Oregon - small town, no TV, what else could we do? I won cash twice, local honey and baked goods several times, but it was more about the wonderful people who came to this community event than about the gain. I'd like to see if it's changed.

Will I win any cash? Maybe. Am I depending on it to reach my goal?

Not a chance.

Money, Money Everywhere - Part One

Once upon a time, there lived a poor but honest shoemaker …

We all know the story of the elves and the shoemaker. How he and his wife were down to their last crumb of bread and final piece of leather. How he cut that small bit into shoe-parts before going to bed, and then woke to find a pair of Gucci-worthy loafers. How he sold them and bought enough cowhide to make two pairs of footwear, then, when he woke to spike heels and sling-backs, he sold them and bought the makings of four, then eight, etc., and left them each night while some mysterious force worked his creations into reality. Eventually, this enterprising oldster decided to ferret out the source of his success, and, sure enough, he found two elves, singing songs of Jimmy Choo and Prada as they hammered away. And though the elves didn’t stick around forever, the shoemaker led a charmed life ever afterward.

We should all be so lucky, right? We can be. We can steal the money, just like he did.

Wait, he wasn’t a thief! Was he?

Let’s see … he made his money with almost no effort … he contributed only raw materials and capitalized on the generosity of two industrious magical creatures instead of the sweat of his own brow … he claimed the work as his own …

No, this isn’t Harry Potter, and I’m not lobbying to free the elves with gifts of clothing (honestly, that’s how the shoemaker lost his work force). I’m talking about stealing funds in the most legal and purest sense. How?

Well, first off, there’s the miracle of simple and compound interest. We have, or could have, all kinds of elves working behind the scenes for us - we give them cash, they do something weird and mysterious to it (singing heartily of Greenspan and Buffet), and, in general, after a day, a week, a year, ten years, somehow our money has multiplied. Sure, we speak of money “working for us” in investments, but it isn’t doing the actual labor – these arcane little men and women are. Whether it’s the slow but steady growth of bank savings, money market accounts, and T-bills, or the erratic accumulation (hopefully) of mutual funds and individual stocks, we take the efforts of our strange creatures and make it our own. Albert Einstein called compound interest “the eighth wonder of the world,” and that’s as good as saying it’s effing magic. I leave much of that to the masters.

Second, there are “rewards.” Not a big grower of assets, true, but these types of credit cards or bank accounts can help you pay off debt, or even get you free trips and huge discounts on purchases. Obviously these elves are more temperamental – they sometimes ask for yearly fees and really high interest rates in payment. I stay away from them (they’re trolls in disguise) and only use those that are free. The card I use (and carry no balance) puts a percentage toward my home loan’s principal. I also get rebate checks (some in-store only) from Staples, Costco, my insurance company, and various others, but these count only because they are refunds on things I usually buy anyway.

Third, there’s the other meaning of “steal” – to sneak, to move something quietly in the hope of not being seen. Yes, I thieve from myself, every chance I get. My husband’s 401K is growing because of the power (and invisibility) of automatic deductions. We also split his check between two accounts – the mortgage payment is transferred from one (which has no debit card) every month. In fifteen years, this stealth investing (with the help of my elves) has taken our red balance and made it black … with an extra zero.

I suspect I’m seeing only the tip of the magical iceberg in this first category. I know that money is all around us for the taking. And, like the air I breathe, I can have it for little or no effort. All I have to do is recognize it.

And steal it.

Rules of the Game

I am a creature of extremes - since childhood I've had only two settings, idle and overdrive. (And, being ambidirectional, I've hit some pretty spectacular speeds in both forward and reverse.) I live my life in bursts of inspiration and activity followed by stretches of puttering and revising, which is usually just code for burnout. Oddly, this lifestyle doesn't encourage risk-taking, but it does make me, as a pillow in my office reminds me, the "Queen of Unfinished Projects." And I almost let it happen here.

Haven't you wondered why it took me until April to get moving when this all began in January? Well, the searing flash of inspiration (that I could be rich) launched me into a frenzy of brainstorming - four increasingly endless weeks spent hunched over research books and a notepad (my standard weapons in any new war), jotting down everything that struck me -hitting the jackpot in the markets, personal strengths to exploit, assets I could upgrade or increase to maximize potential, and even the odd, Eureka moments ("Yard Sale!"). In fact, in my frenzy of list-making, I even catalogued my "cutoff points," lines I would absolutely never cross in this oh-so-focused pursuit of wealth. I had to. I think I forgot what I was doing. Or maybe I was tempted. I don't remember. Because I was already feeling the foggy, smoke-swirled sensation I knew so well.

"I have everything I need," I decided, and "we'll be just fine when we retire" - at the usual time at the usual level. Then there was, "Hey, we aren't the kind of people who become wealthy, anyway." Straight-up, standard Bunny rationalization that covered my flames-licking-the-engine-block, screaming-into-the-atmosphere crash. But no matter how long I puttered around the house in the haze afterward, I couldn't let it go. Because it still felt absolutely, amazingly, paradoxically right. And, for a change, no one knew I'd started, so no one knew I'd shot myself in the foot again. Maybe I could, possibly, perhaps ...

By the time my inner diva decided I'd suffered enough, and showed me why this idea was so perfect (on so many levels), I was ready to start again. I pulled out my notes, determined to find out why I - in the immortal words of my favorite NASCAR wag - "blowed up."

I found a mountain of spreadsheets and inventories of assets and income (both current and future), scribbles on investment strategies for long-term gain, short-term gain, low risk, high risk - even something with three columns labelled and lined neatly. Did I do that? Me? It was as if I'd found a story in my handwriting but written in Munchkin! Columns and Quicken and cash, oh, my!

And then there was The List.

"Things I will never do for money:
"1. I will never break the law to get money.
"2. I will never hurt anyone intentionally, including myself, to get money.
"3. I will never risk more than I can afford to lose."

After I gave the studio audience my patented, dry, "Duh" look, I sat back and just shook my head. Holy Captain Obvious! No wonder I spontaneously combusted! The miracle is that I made it past day one!

I needed a new game. And it didn't take any thought at all.

What I WILL do ... for my husband:
1. I WILL try as many new, God-I-always-wanted-to-do-that-but-it-scares-me-witless things as I can cram into every year.
2. I WILL reduce, recycle, and reuse every chance I get - generally treat everyone and everything I touch as if I'm the guardian, not the master.
3. I WILL listen to my instincts, my intuition, and my inner Diva (because she's obviously smarter than I am).
4. I WILL have fun!

Fun? With money? Yes, I say, and yes, and YES! I just finished my taxes and paid some pretty hefty bills, and still I say YES! Why?

Because fear and inertia are energy-suckers, and don't belong anywhere near our money. Because money as a hobby sounds like a hell of an excuse to indulge in everything I love to do, and find more. Because life's too ... not too short, but too rich not to strain toward every brass ring we can possibly reach (and even those we can't) in every moment of every day.

Because money isn't the real end game. Life is.

I'm going to ride this merry-go-round all the way to the finish - and I'm taking the love of my life with me.