Coffee heat rising

TSP: Dishwasher Rises from the Dead!

P1020531Unless you’ve been living on another planet or out in the middle of the Mohave Desert with George, by now you no doubt have felt the effects of American dishwasher detergent manufacturers’ self-banning of trisodium phosphate (TSP). This chemical, which happens to be the ingredient that used to make dishwasher detergent and a number of other cleaning products work, has been banned in 17 states of the United States of America, because when it runs off into ponds and lakes, it promotes eutrophication by richly fertilizing algae. Rather than pony up the money to market useless detergents to citizens of those states only, manufacturers chose the cost-effective road: they took TSP out of all dishwasher detergent.

Update: For a more nuanced view of this issue, see my August 30 post spinning off a link provided by a FaM reader.

The result, as many of us have noticed, has been that even the fanciest, priciest dishwasher just doesn’t get your dishes clean. Especially glasses, which come out with a stubborn, ugly, milky film all over them.

And as you know if you’re a regular reader of Funny about Money, I buy lifetime supplies of just about everything at Costco — dishwasher detergent included. Because I live with a small dog, who can’t be accused of dirtying up a lot of dishes, the dishwasher here at the Funny Farm certainly doesn’t run every day. I wait till the machine is full to turn it on…and that’s about every second or third day. So when detergent that worked went off the market a few years ago, I missed the momentous event: it wasn’t until a few months ago that I bought any of the new, wimpy dishwasher stuff.

And because I dose each load with a generous splash of vinegar, the baleful effects of the new stuff have been attenuated. Sort of.

Of late, though, the glasses have been emerging from the washer covered with a light skiff of grease or the telltale milky coating. In short, the dishwasher hasn’t been getting the damn dishes CLEAN! If I weren’t by nature cranky as a cat, this would topple the Fat Lady over the brink.

Over the many months since the righteous regulatory event came to pass, I’ve been reading bloggers’ reports to the effect that adding a little TSP, which most of us can buy at our nearest hardware store, solves the annoying problem. So yesterday I bought a box of it at the local Ace.

And lemme tell you: it doesn’t just work. It works with a vengeance!

Now understand: I’d already scoured the milky stuff off the glasses with Barkeeper’s Helper (TSP will not, by itself, remove this coating, at least not in one or two washings), and I’d been washing the damn things by hand for weeks. This caused a great deal of resentment, because I would not own a pricey Bosch dishwasher if washing dishes by hand was what I had in mind as a desirable pastime. So in general what would happen if a glass got dropped into the washer was that it would come out ever so slightly greasy. Many washings like that would have left it with a difficult-to-scour-off film, but the glasses weren’t at that stage. Just dirty. Accursedly dirty.

Following a kind of Netizens’ consensus, I put ¼ teaspoon of the TSP into the detergent cup with one Finish Powerball detergent tablet thingie. I splashed about ¼ to ½ cup of vinegar into the washer tub. Turned the contraption on. And went to bed. Dunno how well you can see this…

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…but what emerged from the dishwasher this morning had NO sticky white hard-water deposit, NO spots, and NO delicate layer of grease! It was absolutely, positively, totally CLEAN.

Everything else in that load came out incredibly clean, too: the stainless-steel saucepan glowed in the dark; the stoneware dishes squeaked when touched; the silver plate forks and spoons came out clean and shiny.

Interesting.

I suspect a quarter of a teaspoon is more than needed, unless your water is even more extravagantly hard than it is here in the low desert (that would be a stretch). You might get away with an eighth of a teaspoon. And if, like me, you don’t run the washer every single day, any such minuscule amount would add a minimal load of phosphates to the sewer runoff. If you do have a family, it would be easy enough to hold the glassware aside, run the pots, pans, silverware, and plates through with the wimpo-detergent each day, and then fill the washer with glassware once every two or three days to be washed with a tiny amount of TSP.

{sigh} Lord, spare us!

Update: This post was included in the August 26 edition of the Carnival of Personal Finance, hosted by According to Athena,
and in the September 3 edition of the Lifestyle Carnival, hosted by Money Soldiers

Idle Essay Day

An overcast day, threatening to rain, and our august nannies leaders have issued an “excessive heat warning.” Actually the heat isn’t excessive — it was only 92 when I headed out for a bike ride late this morning, but what the heck. No doubt some poor soul from Ohio or New Jersey thinks a balmy 92 is “excessive.”

Still, warm and on the high side of humid doesn’t leave you much in the mood for sharp cerebration. A stack of drafts having to do with things financial and political sits in WordPress’s queue, and alas, I feel exactly zero desire to think hard enough to expound on any of those topics. And so I declare today an official Idle Essay Day.

Check out this recipe for grilled baby back ribs, spotted in the food section of today’s Times. It’s part of a posy of recipes that accompany an article inveighing against marinating meat before grilling it. Buried deep in altogether too much effete verbiage is a good idea (instead of soaking meat in a marinade before grilling, try giving it a rub with the dry ingredients, grilling it, and then dipping it in the liquid ingredients right before serving), but it’s hard to find it in the blizzard of words the authors need to fill the required column inches.

Welp, despite a relatively cool morning, the daily two-mile exercise walk was out because I had to show up at the Mayo along about 8:00 a.m. to be poked, prodded, and X-rayed. The “itinerary” they mailed (yes: the Mayo’s management thinks of its appointments as somehow akin to medical tourism…) had me not even getting in to the radiology department till 10:20, but mercifully they were moving right along and I was back on the road, headed home, at 9:30. So it was still cool enough (hm) for a bicycle tour of the neighborhood, about 1.75 miles with the gear set to create a little extra work.

Ran into my neighbor Sally, sweltering over the plants in her front yard. You’ll recall that she had put her house on the market shortly before her über-elderly mother’s final illness, and (thankfully, from my point of view) took it off after the old gal died. You have to understand what’s meant by “old gal” here: Sally herself is in her 80s… She’s quiet, unobtrusive, and tidy, so I was extremely relieved when she decided to stay put.

Sally said her nephew, a real estate broker who’d listed the house for her, called the other day to say he’d run the comps in the neighborhood and he also was extremely glad she didn’t sell: the place is now worth $50,000 to $60,000 more than they were asking just last April! And he thinks that when the lightrail construction is finished and the boondoggle train is trucking up and down the main drag that separates us from the slum bordering the freeway, values will go up even further.

That remains to be seen: an hour or so ago the homeowner’s association sent out an e-mail asking neighbors to bitch to the city council over a methadone clinic the SOBs just opened in said slum, right around the corner from our glorious wanna-be luxury district — bringing with it a surge in petty crime and an increase in the number of homeless folks hanging out in the area. Did they bother to tell us before they installed this fine cultural amenity? Well, no.

There was a reason our City Parents gerrymandered our neighborhood into the ultra-downscale Maryvale district, and you can be sure that reason did not bode well for the middle-class residents here.

Now that real estate values are on the mend, several of the neighborhood’s stately mansions are on the market. This 3200-square-foot bagatelle, for example, is nestled on one of the prettiest streets in the central city:

View1

(Click on the images for larger, higher-res views.)

You can have it for a mere $590,000.

The kitchen alone is probably worth that…

View3Kitchen

Imagine cleaning the grease out of the alcove in which the handsome gourmet stovetop resides…

View2Stove

As you might guess by the placement of the artwork, no grease will need to be cleaned from this artifact, because people who can afford to buy and maintain the palace in question can afford to go out to eat. Every day. Morning, noon, and night, if they so choose.

Sometimes it’s hard to grasp how HUGE some of these North Central lots are. Check this out:

View4vastness

That is just the part of the backyard that’s behind the swimming pool fence!

Holy sh!t. You, too, can pay to have someone come in and mow that Sahara of bermudagrass and St. Augustine.

The nicer part of the landscaping, IMHO, looks like this:

View5yard

Ah well. Back at the Funny Farm, it was into the pool to chill out after the bike ride. Despite my former whinging about the pool’s upkeep, now that I’m old and enjoying chronic back pain, I have to say the smartest da^^n thing I ever did was to buy this house because it had a pool!  Getting rid of the devil-pod tree helped, though: upkeep is almost nil without that monster dropping bushels of leaves, pods, and pollen into the drink.

The pool has saved my tuchus twice now, first with the shoulder injury — after a summer of water exercises, I escaped surgery there — and now with the constant pain in the tail. By the time I got out of the drink this afternoon, the back pain, which was helped a little by the bicycling, was down from about a 2 (on the obnoxiousness scale of 1 to 10) to about a .75. So that, like the neighbor’s backyard, was HUGE.

It’s so huge, as a matter of fact, that I’ve been thinking it might be a good idea to install a solar pool heater.

These are expensive: around four grand.

However, one of my friends succumbed to the blandishments of an outfit that leases residential solar power arrays. She and her husband are mightily pleased, because, despite the monthly rental bill from said outfit, they’re earning so much from selling power back to the electric company that their outlay for power has dropped to around $20 a month…in the dead of summer! Among other things, the solar power vendor threw in a pool heater as part of the deal!

In these parts, a pool heater adds about two months to the swimming season. That’s certainly not enough to justify an investment of four grand. However, if I could persuade some such company to embellish my house with a solar power system and tack on a pool heater, too, well…that might be worth it.

In other fields of idleness, perhaps I was unduly annoyed at American Express this morning… I wish they would settle on ONE DATE on which to close their billing cycle.

Normally the AMEX billing cycle ends on the 20th. This date is apposite because it marks the final day of one of the two billing cycles that dictate my budget. Just now I’m about out of food and out of gasoline, and I’d figured that as long as I had to go to the Mayo up on the 101, which would take me halfway to Scottsdale and right past a Costco, I could continue on to the Container Store in Scottsdale to buy some boxes for the craftsy items I’m donating to the church’s silent auction, then turn around and, heading home, get the stuff I need and refill the car’s gas tank at the Costco.

Fortunately, I was given pause by the belief that I’m about $85 in the red on the AMEX budget, so far. On rare occasions, American Express closes that billing cycle on the 21st. If they did so this month, I would be up to my nose in red ink after an expensive Costco run and a $45 refill.

So, before I left for the Mayo, I called American Express. First off, their talking robot informed me that I’m actually $300 in the red, not $85. After 10 minutes of hanging on hold, a sort of human being picked up the phone.

“When does the current billing cycle close?”

“At 11:30 this evening.”

Lovely.

Well, that cut out an entire day’s worth of running around, none of which can be done until next month’s billing cycle kicks in. Tomorrow. And it also posed a new problem: where the Hell am I going to come up with the unaccounted-for $300 I owe the bastards?

That will clean out my savings account again. Every time I get caught up with the short-term emergency/diddle-it-away fund, I have to raid it again!

And of course there’s the question of what charge(s) I failed to enter in Excel… We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.

Oh well. By the time I got out of the pool, I was starved. Having refrained from scarfing meat for the past several days, it was time for a real meal:

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Lovely little New Zealand lamb chop…first meat in several days. Gorgeous dainty asparagi. Even the salad greens are still fresh and tasty.

It occurred to me that despite feeling sometimes that the diet is out of balance, what with the weight-loss project going on for several months, I’m ingesting a surprising amount of vegetation. Lookit that: asparagus with juice of half a lime. Lettuce, onion, radishes, blueberries, and an entire carrot with fresh lemon juice and olive oil. That’s after this morning’s meal of lentils and fresh pineapple. This evening: xergis, which is mostly cucumber blended with yogurt. Clearly I’m not starving on this diet. 😀

And so, to work…

Consumer Alert: HOLY Mackerel!

For heaven’s sake, this morning’s news has not one, not two, nay, not even four or five, but six hair-raising consumer alerts. DUCK, my friends! INCOMING!!!!

Cherry_LipsFirst off, for the gents: You’ll want to ask your lady friend to kindly wash her face before you smootch her the next time. Those lush, sexy lips she’s got on? Toxic.

We girls have known for a long time that lipstick is full of lead, as well as a cocktail of other heavy metals. That doesn’t seem to stop us from plastering it on — often several times a day. We do need to look, uhm, “professional” in the workplace, after all. And we certainly need to look attractive for our guys. Yeah.

The chief toxicologist for the Personal Care Products Council, an industry group, remarks that “metals are ubiquitous.” Among those metals are lead (of which the FDA has now said there is no safe level), aluminum, cadmium, cobalt, aluminum, titanium, manganese, chromium, copper, and nickel. Mmmm…num num!

So you say all that copper plumbing in your house makes you feel more confident that you won’t have to get the shack replumbed between now and the time you pay off the mortgage? Mmm-hmmm. Might want to use the savings to buy some long-term care insurance. We’re now being told that the copper we lap up over the course of a lifetime — much of which leaches into the water from that fine copper plumbing — may contribute to Alzheimer’s disease. Copper is, admittedly, a necessary mineral nutrient…but too much of it is just too much of a muchness.

How do you like your Bud…light, Ice, or regular? Doesn’t matter: all three of them, along with Steel Reserve and Colt 45, rank among the five beer brands that account for a third of all visits to emergency rooms.

Well. That’s what you get for not having the taste to buy a decent hand-made craft beer. {sniff!}

Thought you were cleaning up your act by cutting out the meat? Maybe not so much. Tempeh, favorite ingredient in fake meat substitutes, has been linked to a large outbreak of salmonella poisoning. GIVE UP! Take yourself to Burger King and order a nice, well-done Whopper.

Really very, very well-done.

Taco Hell has a new delectable to tempt your taste buds: waffle tacos stuffed with your choice of fruit or chicken. One word: EEWWWWWW!

If you’re not scared, very scared yet, it’s never too late: Lyme disease is spreading 10 times faster than previously imagined. Don’t worry. You can learn to love the scent of Off!

Speaking of mackerel, you’ll be pleased to learn that mackerel is one of the fish least likely to be contaminated with mercury. {sigh} Thank heaven for small mercies. I guess.

Image: Cherry Lips. Camila Zanon. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

Cash or Credit?

DebitCardA while back, Mrs. Planting Our Pennies posted an article with an entertaining short video ruminating on the eerie quality of cash to disappear without a trace as one goes about one’s daily life. The video actually plugs Dan Ariela’s Coursera course on financial irrationality, echoing Dave Ramsey’s theory that most of us spend less if we use cash than if we buy everything with credit cards.

 Mrs. PoP goes on to reflect that she and Mr. PoP have the opposite experience: cash disappears without a trace, whereas the paper trail created by credit-card receipts and statements makes it easier to keep a grip on spending because it’s easy to see where the money went and when. I was delighted to learn that someone else in the world has a similar experience to mine — not only the PoPs but many of their readers who commented. I thought I was some sort of strange outlier! Cash flows through my fingers like water — a walletful in the morning can be empty in the evening, and I have no idea where the money went. Something about the extra hassle factor of pulling out a credit card and having to fool with signing for it slows me down enough that I don’t buy just any pointless thing that strikes my well-honed whim.

It may be “painful,” as Ramsey suggests, to spend cash; but evidently some of us find it more painful to do without whatever doodad we happen to crave at any given moment.

As you may recall, late last spring, as part of an overall decomplicating strategy, I decided to use cash for small purchases. The idea was that I would withdraw a couple hundred bucks at the beginning of the month and use that to cover things that cost $30 or less. The initial idea was to make it $50 or less, but at that rate four purchases would consume $200.

This scheme actually did work, on two fronts: it cut the number of transactions that I have to keep track of in reconciling accounts, and, weirdly, I did spend less in the first month of the experiment.

This month, alas, I never did make it to the credit union to pull out some cash. My credit union doesn’t scatter ATMs across the city, and although customers can use other ATMs (I think), there’s a gouge for the privilege that I refuse to pay. I live about eight miles from the nearest branch of my credit union — that’s a 16-mile round trip, or, in the Dog Chariot, almost a gallon’s worth of gas — and there’s nothing up in that direction for me except a Home Depot and, much further up the road, a Costco. Since I try to limit visits to those worthy retailers, if I have no specific reason to go to one or the other of them, a jaunt to the CU through homicidal traffic is a nuisance that costs me about $3.35. This month it was a week or ten days past the August 1st before I hit Costco, and because I also needed some things from stores that are closer to a different outlet in a different part of town, I never did make it out west to the credit union.

And interestingly, what should I discover but that this month I’m already $87 in the hole on the credit-card budget, whose cycle doesn’t end until the 21st. Last month, when I used $120 worth of cash, I came in $143 in the black!

Naturally, the red ink on the AMEX budget comes in a month when power and water bills hit astronomical levels. And I had to pay Gerardo the Wonder-Lawn-Dude an extra $50 for some outrageously hard work he did in gawdawful heat.

And strangely, no single huge purchase jumps out from this month’s AMEX charges. Instead, I spent a bunch of money on small, separate bead-crafting expenses for the pieces I’m planning to donate to the choir’s silent auction this file ($135.76); $50 on propane and a new propane tank from Costco (not unreasonable); and a staggering $388.72 on a dozen trips to grocery stores. I did manage to stay out of Costco pretty well — hence all the grocery-store runs — however, in the two Costco runs I did make, I spent an equally staggering $378.73

Some of that $378 covered a couple pair of bluejeans to adorn the now much-slenderized body. None of my pants or shorts will stay up, so I really did need those. And the cost was nominal: Costco blue jeans run about $18 or $20 a pair.

You’d think that shifting to a mostly vegetarian diet — meat shows up on my table about twice a week now — would cut grocery costs. But in fact, fresh veggies and fruits are not cheap, and you have to eat them or else watch them spoil. Salad greens don’t lend themselves to freezing. That means I’m racing off to Sprouts or Trader Joe’s every time I turn around. Also, I visited Whole Foods, where I bought some (gorgeous!) wild-caught fish and two whole organic untrammeled chickens (on sale!) and splurged on too much sushi and a bottle of pricey craft beer.

But…the diet was under way when I started this experiment, so in theory grocery bills should have been no higher this month than they were then. The Mac ate the Excel spreadsheet I use to track the monthly budget (never have the same  DropBox file open on two computers at the same time! :roll:), so I can’t confirm that comparison. But it’s safe to assume grocery bills must have been about the same, with the possible exception of the Whole Foods episode — which, after all, put about a month’s worth of meat servings in the freezer.

In the “never” department, also never go into grocery stores when you’re hungry.

It looks like what happened is I lost track of how much I was spending on groceries and on beading goods and tools. At one point I got ripped off by Bead World — a saleslady sold me a pair of wire cutters that she knew would not work on the wire I had in my hand at the time, and they won’t take returns (they won’t get a return, either: a return customer). Then I bought a pair at Michael’s, but wouldn’tcha know: you get what you pay for! So I had to order up a decent pair, for twice the cost, at Fire Mountain.

So this month, in fact I did spend a lot more in using the credit card to cover everything (there’s a $3.06 charge in here, for godsake!) than I did when I used cash for small purchases. The “under $30” category amounts to a kind of Dave Ramsey-style “envelope,” and in fact when I ran out of the cash dedicated to discretionary spending that month, I consolidated shopping trips and limited purchases to real necessities, cutting back on the number and hence the amount of small expenditures.

Since it costs upwards of $3.35 to drive to the credit union, it probably would be cost-effective to get a debit card and pay the gouge to withdraw money from an ATM.

Just what I need: another card to help me spend money! 😀

Planning for Your Survivors: How Much Insurance?

   Over at My Journey to Millions, Evan has posted a very interesting article on the question of how much life insurance (and other preparations) you should have in place to provide for your family should you shuffle off this mortal coil in an untimely fashion. He details the amount of insurance coverage he now has — which is substantial — and then remarks that his wife thinks he’s overinsured.

He has things set up so that if she paid off the $355,000 mortgage (my estimate) and invested the rest of the life insurance proceeds, she would end up with a net monthly income of about $5,800. And he worries that it may not be enough.

Probably she can scrape by on $5,800 without having to run out and get a job.

However, it strikes me that he could be right to worry…or not. How much you need to provide for the event of an early demise depends on a number of circumstances, among them the time of your life, the time of your children’s lives, the part of the country where you live, the style in which your family is accustomed to living, and — most obviously — the number of kids or other dependents you’re supporting.

BungalowStyle07262007Evan is evidently a fairly high earner. They’re living in an expensive house — the mortgage represents only a fraction of its value — and that translates to high taxes, high insurance, and probably a pretty high cost of maintenance. Few women can earn that kind of money on their own, and so if anything happened to him, his wife might have a hard time finding enough to cover their present costs, even without his car to pay for, his medical insurance, and the cost of feeding him.

However, in his absence, her overall costs might drop. For example, she would presumably get rid of at least one car, thereby freeing herself of the payments, maintenance, insurance, and taxes on a late-model vehicle. The family might go out to eat less. Whatever costs are entailed in his hobbies and interests would go away, as would the cost of purchasing clothes and other necessities for a grown man.

These savings, though, might be absorbed by the increased cost of health insurance: covering herself and children on the open market would be staggering, and the Affordable Care Act seems not to be about to remedy that problem. Even though generous subsidies will be available for the middle class, a $5,800 net monthly income with a paid-off house does not fall under the heading of “middle class.”

On the other hand, it’s no foregone conclusion that she would stay home and take care of the kids, at least not indefinitely. Bright, high-earning men tend to marry bright, well educated women. In the vacuum that his absence would create, she would soon find herself bored and restless. She probably would get a job or start a small enterprise — certainly as soon as the kids are in school all day, she would. Even a part-time job would supplement the 4% drawdown enough to allow the family to live in comfort. They live in Long Island, where costs and salaries are high, so let’s figure she gets paid about $25,000 for a part-time, no-benefits gig. She’d probably net around twenty grand, bringing her net income to about $7,470 a month. If she couldn’t live on that, then she might need to downsize. But my guess is she could live like the Queen of Sheba on it.

So it looks like Evan is neither under- nor very much overinsured. As he remarks, he doesn’t want his wife to be forced to go back to work out of need. And that doesn’t appear to be likely; if and when she returned to work, she probably would do so because she wanted to, not because she would feel she has to.

§

In considering how much life insurance to buy — and what other provisions you make, such as college savings programs and the like — it’s a smart idea to visualize how your survivors will live in your absence, both in the short term and over time.

My former husband was (and is) a corporate lawyer. Like Evan, he earned a good living and we had a commensurately expensive house. I was a magazine writer and editor; the most I ever earned while I was married to X-DH was about $30,000. Saving was not his forte — the only reason he had a retirement fund at all was that the firm had to provide a plan for everyone if they were to provide it for those who wanted it — and we were in debt up to our noses. There was no way I could pay the mortgage on our house on my own, to say nothing of keeping our son in private school, maintaining a car, and paying the cost of air-conditioning 3300 square feet.

So, he had enough insurance to pay off the mortgage on the house, plus a couple of whole life policies that would have paid a hefty amount in 1970 or so, when we bought them, but not so much in today’s economy. The amount residing in his retirement fund had he passed away at the time I left might have covered most of my expenses, had my son and I lived frugally…but I might not have had access to it for another four years (i.e., if for whatever bureaucratic reason I’d had to wait until I was 59½). In any event, taxes would have reduced my net inheritance of that money by as much as 30 percent.

This would mean that, assuming he figured we were going to stay married (which he probably did), he should have been carrying significantly  more life insurance than we had. I would have needed enough to pay off the house and enough to put our son through an expensive day school and private college and enough for me and the kid to live on.

Graduation ceremony at OxfordToday, K-8 tuition at the school my son attended is $16,475 a year. The cost of operating that big house and paying tax and insurance on it is probably around $2,000 a month in today’s dollars. My present monthly cost of living, exclusive of house costs and absent a young son, is $1100. Let’s add another 50% to that to cover the cost of feeding the kid: $1,650 a month. Back when I paid for cars on time, my Toyota cost $300 a month (it probably would be more now, but let’s accept that figure). So, in today’s dollars I would need about $63,875 a year to maintain our normal month-to-month lifestyle. To net $63,875 a year (assuming a 15% tax rate, which is optimistic) by taking a 4% drawdown on investments, I would need $1,836,406 in savings.

We owed about $70,000 on the house. The cost of our son’s college tuition was about $130,000; let’s add another $8,000 a year to support him in his apartment and cover his incidental expenses. So, in addition to the ordinary living costs, I would have needed another $232,000 to pay off the mortgage and put our kid through a good college out of state (there are no top-flight colleges or universities in Arizona).

$1,836,400 + 232,000 = $2,068,400

That’s less than the amount of insurance Evan is carrying. We owed less on the manse than he does today, but the larger amount he’s providing should pay off their mortgage. So if he projected a lifestyle as grandiose as the one my X-DH had in mind (from day to day we lived no better than I do right now on $2, 355 a month, but the private schools, the expensive vacation travels, and the debt cost a lot), then Evan’s $2,150,000 death benefit should keep them in their home without her having to return to work anytime soon.

Evan lives in a more civilized part of the country, and New York has some very good public universities. It’s even possible that the public K-12 schools are adequate where he’s living. So, if he and the Wife plan to send the kids to public schools, then should anything happen to him, she’ll no doubt be in pretty good shape.

§

Life changes. The kids grow up. They do things you don’t expect, which is as it should be. Consider the situation now for me, a single woman with an adult son:

My son now makes his own way, which in Arizona, a right-to-work state with low wages for all but the 1 percenters, is a pretty meager way.

To get him out of the dangerous firetrap where he was living and put a decent roof over his head, I went in with him to copurchase a modest home in a modest central-city neighborhood. We owe about $201,000 on that. Exclusive of the cost of the roof, he earns a decent living: slightly above the median family income in Arizona — and he’s single and frugal. He covers all the cost of maintenance for the house and has accrued a large emergency fund to cover major repairs. So, I imagine that if the house were paid off, he really wouldn’t need all that much to continue to support him in the life to which he has become accustomed.

 However, what worries me is his future. If the dire predictions about Social Security are correct, he may not have much to support him in his dotage. As we have already seen, the idea that the average American can accrue enough in 401(k)’s and other savings instruments is a massive FAIL. Thus even though he does have a retirement fund, it would be enormously foolish to assume that it will carry him through old age.

Or even allow him to retire at all…  And my son enjoys his job about as much as I enjoyed working for the Great Desert University, which is to say “not much.” Ideally, if he is to take pleasure in any part of the life that remains to him, he needs to be able to retire no later than about age 65, and preferably sooner.

Thus…ah, yes, thus: I would like to leave him enough cash that, added to his own savings and invested wisely, over time it would accrue enough to allow him to retire in comfort sometime between his mid-50s and his mid-60s. Alternatively, I would like him to have enough to quit his job and go into a graduate program that would secure him a less unpleasant and much better-paying job. An actual career, one might say.

I can’t afford big insurance premiums, nor do I think much life insurance is necessary to accomplish what I’d like to do for my son.

My house is paid off. It’s worth about $60,000 more than the house M’hijito is living in. Obviously, I will leave the house to him. This will give him four options:

a) Rent my house, generating enough to pay the mortgage on the house he’s living in.
b) Sell my house and pay off the mortgage on his house.
c) Sell his house, break even on the sale, and move into my house.
d) Sell my house, invest the money, pay the mortgage on his place as best he can from his salary, and let the sale proceeds accrue in brokerage and Roth IRA accounts until he reaches retirement age.

The first two choices would not require him to move. If he used rental income from my house to accelerate payment of the mortgage on his house, then after he owns his place free and clear, rent from my house would be money in his pocket. In that event, by the time he reaches retirement age, he would have the inflation-adjusted equivalent of about $1500 a month to supplement whatever other sources of income he might have.

The third option could be depressing…in addition to hassle of having to uproot oneself, it would creep me out to move into my parent’s home. But people have done it. And my house is bigger, fancier, and in a nicer neighborhood than his, so the advantages would considerable. Whether he sold my house or his, he could get out from under the monthly cost of keeping a roof over his head.

The fourth option would do nothing to improve his life in the short term, but it would add about $240,000 to his life savings.

The whole life policy X-DH and I bought all those many years ago has a $40,000 death benefit, despite my having ceased to make premium payments. After cremating me, M’hijito would have enough left from that to buy a much-needed new car.

The remainder of my assets reside in investments. Unfortunately, most of this is in a large traditional IRA, and so taxes will gobble up a fair amount of his cash inheritance. I figure he’ll net about $300,000, all told, from the investments he gets from me. I could arrange things so he would get about twice that much by purchasing $300,000 in life insurance, but at my age, life insurance isn’t cheap. Just $50,000 worth would cost over $300 a month, and I don’t have a spare $300 laying around. Besides, to make up the tax gouge, I’d have to buy six times that much coverage!

Assuming he manages to save about $200,000 on his own and he does not sell my house and roll the proceeds into investments, with his net inheritance he’ll have about $500,000 or $600,000 (or its inflation-adjusted equivalent) by the time he retires. That’s not enough, of course. To fund a modestly comfortable retirement, he’ll need well over a million dollars — in today’s dollars, assuming no Social Security benefit. If he does invest proceeds from the sale of my house, by the time he retires, he might have enough to provide a livable drawdown.

If his father leaves him a like amount (no guarantee there! he has a wife and her dependent adult child, who has a minor child also needing support), then he would have about enough to retire on, assuming he always lives under a paid-off roof.

That also assumes he never marries.

However, many men his age do find wives, and with any luck at all, the Mother of My Grandchildren is searching for him right now. If she ever finds him and he notices, the situation changes: first, she adds to his wealth by working, but second, they add to their expenses by having children. In that case, a few hundred thou from me should help them a little, though it won’t ensure either a comfortable retirement or, given the way our country is going, any retirement at all.

You can’t really second-guess the future. Whatever my son gets from me and his father, he’ll need to handle it intelligently for it to benefit him…and yet not be so pinch-penny that he never gets to enjoy any of it.

Update: This post was selected for the August 19 Carnival of Personal Finance at Barbara Friedburg Personal Finance.

Lizard!

What a hot, humid day! By 7:15 this morning it was 90 degrees on the back porch and surely must have been pushing 90% humidity. Perfect weather for our various buggy friends.

geckobaby2But…heh heh! The Funny Farm has a better friend: a cute little baby lizard.

Actually, by now he’s more of an adolescent lizard. He’s been living in the back bathroom and bedroom for several weeks now. At first he was a tiny little guy, so new and delicate his skin was pink where you could see the blood through it. He’s still only an inch or so long, but he is beginning to look more like he’s going to live to see old age.

And we haven’t spotted a mosquito around in…well! Several weeks now.

Because his tiny snowshoe-like feet cling to the wall like suction cups, he can race along a vertical surface so fast he turns into a blur. One of the favored vertical surfaces is one also favored by resident mosquitoes.

More to the point than mosquitoes, though, are the crickets.

A couple of weeks ago, a tribe of the little guys encamped — or maybe hatched — in the family room. That they eat binding glue out of the books and consume fabric off the floor pillows would annoy one enough, even without the cricket love songs. But their night-time mating arias pose a more immediate problem.

One of the desert Romeos started up in there about a week ago. This was OK — closing the bedroom door allowed for a decent night’s sleep.

Then he moved up the hall to one of the nearby rooms. When I shut the door on him that night, he came in through the crack beneath it and made himself to home in the bedroom curtains!

cricket2Well, the particular variety of cricket that lives in these parts has learned to shut up and hide the instant a human heaves into view. That makes it mighty hard to find and smush the little fiddlers. And whereas Cassie the Corgi shares many personality characteristics with cats, chasing down small insects is not one of them. So I went to sleep with a pillow over my head.

Next morning, come the usual wee-hours call to awaking: Silence.

No cricket song.

I figured he must have found a girlfriend and so was otherwise occupied. But that evening when bedtime rolled around, silence still graced the bedroom. Where was Jiminy Cricket?

He didn’t go out the sliding door. He didn’t hop out the bedroom door and back up the hall.

And the gecko? He seems to have put on an ounce or so.

House_gecko_with_spider

It’s always good when you can see your gecko breathing…

😉

Images:

Juvenile Hemidactylus frenatus (a gecko). No photographer named. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.
House gecko with a spider, Austin, Texas. Ehollins. Public domain.
Field cricket, Acheta domesticus. Luis Fernández García L. Fdez. licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.1 Spain license.

(As usual, click on an image for a higher-resolution view.)