Coffee heat rising

Rumors swirl at AMEX

Word on the street has it that American Express has already told employees to prepare for layoffs in the U.S. and in India. My informant says rumors on the inside allege layoffs will represent a substantial part of the workforce, possibly as high as 20 percent.

This follows yesterday’s news that the company’s second-quarter earnings dropped to $653 million, a 38% decline, and today’s reports that shares dropped 7.5%.

Meanwhile, with credit card rates soaring and mortgage expenses out of hand, cardholders are beginning to default on charge card debt. Jonathan Stempel, writing in the Guardian, calls AMEX “a bellwether for the consumer economy” and quotes CEO Kenneth Chenault as saying that even big-spending, affluent customers are cutting back. Stempel also quotes analyst Andrew Boord in observing that AMEX customers are largely middle-class people, the same Americans who are overextended on their mortgages or driving gas-guzzling SUVs. Other card issuers, notably Citibank, Bank of America, and J. P. Morgan, are seeing double-digit rises in credit-card charge-offs.

It probably was inevitable that a wave of credit card defaults would follow close on the heels of mortgage foreclosures. So many people are deeply indebted to card lenders, it’s surprising we haven’t seen a plague of defaults before this.

The piper has tendered his bill and wants to be paid.

And real-life headaches…

Virtual headache

Apple’s MacHeadache hit the New York Times this morning: the roll-out of the new iPhone hit a pothole or two, one of which was the complicated switchover to new servers. It’s this very pothole that Funny has fallen into-I have no idea whether today’s post will publish or not. Desperately confused, iWeb claims nothing is posted. But the published site itself displays everything I’ve written since July 9. If you don’t get the Times’s edition printed on ground-up trees, check out these entertaining pieces online.

Paper headache

Speaking of headaches, avert your eyes from your investment fund statements unless you enjoy migraines. When last seen, mine reported a $23,000 loss-that was before the market crashed through the 11,000 floor yesterday. Any ideas I might have had about retiring before the age of 70 just went <<POOF>>

Thank heaven we have a 30-year fixed mortgage on the Investment House, and my own mortgage is paid off. That notwithstanding, with the market plummeting like a meteor and the probability that we’ll have to hold the house for a good ten years, I can’t afford to keep rolling money out of my IRA into real estate. I’ll need to come up with a new way to generate $12,000 a year to cover my part of the mortgage payments.

Matter of fact, I happen to have one in the wings. Watch this space for more on that

And real-life headache

Meanwhile, in the stress department (one of this blog’s co-topics), I woke with a real, biological headache-no metaphor here-from once again kicking the Killer Caffeine. Dang!

The month-long spate of indigestion has three likely sources (that is, if you quietly overlook cancer, which we will do): caffeine, booze, or salmonella.

Any of these is possible. The epizootic started the day after a friend and I visited a popular New Mexican-style restaurant, where we did have a nice jalapeño-laced salsa. Some startlingly unpleasant manifestations occupied the next week or ten days. Our defanged federal regulators are now speculating that the source of the salmonella plague we’re now witnessing may have been jalapeños or cilantro. However, my friend didn’t get sick, so I kinda doubt this is the cause of my present ailment.

Noooo. Ever so much likely is one (or both?) of my favorite potables.

I live to drink coffee. No mere coffee, mind you, but the highest of the high-test. I use fresh-ground espresso beans-because espresso demands a better variety of coffee-to fill a ten-cup French press every morning. And do I drink all that, all by my little buzzing self? You bet! Whatever is left over in the morning gets consumed as iced coffee later in the day.

Well, in a body that dates from the Cretaceous period, the effect is cumulative. As you age (memorize this, you young pups), your metabolism slows, and so it takes a lot longer than it used to for drugs, prescription and non-, to clear out of your system. During my misspent youth, coffee had little noticeable effect on me. These days, though, guzzling enough of it before noon will keep me awake at night; especially after a couple months of drinking it daily.

Then there’s my other favorite swiggle: the daily boozie-poo. Because the lime tree is dropping beautiful, juicy, delicious ripe key limes, I (naturally!) had to have some Coronas. Matter of fact, I’ve been forced to take advantage of Costco’s incredible price on 24-bottle cases of Coronas. Neither limes nor beers have gone to waste: typically I drink two bottles around dinnertime.

Lately, though, I’ve also had a bourbon & water…or two…later in the afternoon. On a 112-degree day few things call out to you more appealingly than an ice-cold bourbon and water on the rocks. The other day I realized I’d swiggled two beers with cheese & crackers after coming home from work and then poured myself two Maker’s Marks a few hours later, with a late dinner. Uh oh!

So, it’s off the sauce and off the coffee.

I have no problem kicking the beer and bourbon-iced tea, V-8 juice, or fruit juice all substitute handsomely.

Kicking caffeine, though, is a whole ‘nother matter. Caffeine deficiency anemia causes a screaming real-life headache that can last a full week. I’ve learned, though, that a couple cups of caffeinated tea will take the edge off. It doesn’t contain enough of the drug to keep you awake at night, but it does stop your head from hurting. After a week, you can eliminate the tea, and voilà: caffeine-free existence.

The laundry remains to be laundered, the ironing to be ironed, the house to be cleaned, the plants to be watered, the pool gadget to be repaired, the garbage to be hauled, the dog to be tended to, a novel to be proofread, a new business to be launched… And so, my friends, to work.

Moving for your financial health

Writing for Wisebread, blogger Linsey Knerl suggests that one effective way to save money is to move a good long way from the Joneses, the better to delete the temptation to keep up with high-flying neighbors and peers. The gist of the conversation has to do with pressures to stay expensively in style, with Linsey arguing that moving to a rural environment, as she has done happily, insulates you from the social forces that urge you to waste money on status symbols.

Whether or not you really need to move away from the “Joneses” to protect your self-esteem and curb your spending impulses, for some of us there may be a very good financial reason to take up residence in a rural town. Just this weekend I ran across people living in this circumstance and, thanks to their setting, living pretty well. It goes like this:

If you are poor and you know you will never be anything other than poor, you may be able to make a better life for yourself and your family in a very small town. Housing and schools may be better and safer, and the overall environment may be a great deal more pleasant than anything you could afford in a city.

Saturday a friend invited me to visit her relatives who are living in a small high-desert mining and ranch town. A few years ago this pleasantly funky wide spot in the road was discovered by a few affluent big-city residents-briefly. After a period of low-key vacation-home gentrification, it was pretty much forgotten except by a small population of ancient old-timers, a few retirees, some refugees from the big city, and a coterie of artists. Quiet and companionably eccentric, the place consists mostly of old miner’s shacks, prefab cabins, and trailers set among picturesque boulders and chaparral beneath a clean sapphire sky. The atmosphere is low-key, much of the economy is based on barter, and if anyone has money, they don’t show it off.

Among the several residents we met was a handsome 12-year-old girl, just on the verge of blossoming into womanhood, who had befriended the relatives’ little girl and had spent the Fourth of July with the family, visiting a nearby small city to watch fireworks. Expressing her pleasure at the trip, she remarked that it was the first time in her life she’d ever seen a fireworks display.

This elicited some quiet clucking from the Californian refugees, who observed that her own family, a single mother with three children, was very poor and lived in a trailer.

But… When I was 12 years old, I’d never seen fireworks. Somehow I didn’t feel deprived. And so they live in a trailer: so do a lot of people in this town. Probably a third of the structures started life as mobile homes. None of them are in trailer parks: every home occupies a lot, some as large as an acre or more, and each stands among granite boulders, flower gardens, and pleasant shady streets. Some houses have spectacular views of the surrounding hills and distant mountains. The kids attend a decent country school with small classes and no gang activity.

If you lived in a trailer in my city — and you were too young to qualify for one of the quiet senior citizens’ parks — your home would be located in the toughest part of town, where you would pay rent for a slot of ground to park your trailer practically on top of the neighbors. The garden spot to the right, for example, is just up the road from my house and a notorious hot spot for crime. Your kids would go to a gang-infested, drug-saturated and violent inner-city school. Your neighborhood would be a noisy, crime-ridden hardscape where trees and flowers are rarities and cop helicopter fly-overs routine.

The point here is that if you don’t have a lot of money and you have no prospects of ever earning anything other than poverty-level wages, life in a rural setting has a lot to recommend it. Not in some shallow sense where you move away from temptation that you don’t have the self-control or self-esteem to resist. But in the very real sense that in a small rural town, your dollars may buy you a better life.

4 Comments lef on iWeb site

!wanda

Won’t gas prices kill you if you live far away from everything?I guess being more self-sufficient and needing to make fewer trips mitigates that somewhat, but if you or someone in your family, say, gets sick and needs to go to the hospital a lot, it can be a long drive.

But, yeah, rural seems to be the way to go if you want space for cheap.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008 – 01:38 AM

Journeyer

This is so true.There are so many things that we now expect and take for granted that were “special” when we were kids – trips to the movies, going out for dinner, getting driven around to every after school activity possible.

@!wanda – living in the country often means you discover that you don’t need all the things you had in the city, so no need to travel.

Sunday, July 20, 2008 – 01:29 A

Funny about Money

Thanks for visiting, !Wanda and Journeyer.

@ Wanda: Within 30 minutes’ driving distance, there are two towns with decent infrastructures. One, reachable by a winding two-lane road, has the usual range of grocery stores, a Costco, and a respectable hospital. The other, on a safer road at the bottom of the hill, has a couple of grocery stores with inflated prices.

But if you’re willing to drive another 20 minutes — as our friends do — you reach the outskirts of the Phoenix metropolitan area, which has every urban shopping amenity you could desire: box stores, groceries, chain clothing and household stores, and even a few locally owned shops. People who live in the town own freezers. They drive to a larger town or the city once a month to stock up on household goods, staples, meat, and frozen vegetables. And most everyone has a garden. Because of the lovely climate, the produce defies belief: in our friends’ yard alone there’s a pear tree, an apple tree, two plum trees, a lime tree, and a fantastic vegetable garden. I came home laden with ruby lettuce, incredible little green onions with red bulblets, runner beans, carrots, and Swiss chard, all gifts from our hosts. The corn wasn’t ripe yet, but from a roadside produce stand we bought ears of corn so sweet you’d swear it just came off the plants and the best avocados I’ve ever had.

If these friends ever came to spend the day at my house, I could offer them no gift as handsome as the armsful of produce they sent me away with.

So, what about medical care? In an emergency you can be helicoptered to the nearest hospital or, in dire circumstances, to the major medical centers in Phoenix. Day to day? Well, you know…if you’re poor or even middle-class, you’re not going to have very good access to much medical care, anyway. So really, access to doctors and hospitals no longer is a consideration that should drive your choice of places to live

Sunday, July 20, 2008 – 10:18 AM

Linsey Knerl

What a very insightful post!Many of the things you mention are exactly why we love living rural (and Omaha is less than 40 minute drive from home.)Thanks so much for the mention

Wednesday, July 30, 2008 – 08:59 PM

Independence Day link love

A Happy Fourth of July to everyone!
And while we’re partying and parading, let us not forget the men and women who have volunteered to serve in our armed forces to protect the principles of the Declaration we will celebrate tomorrow.

Funny is taking a day off for the celebration, the 112-degree heat having done something to the energy level around here. Saturday it’s off to the high country for a short break from the Valley of the We-Do-Mean Sun. So, I hope you’ll visit as many other PF bloggers as you can over the next couple of days. Here are a few that I’ve enjoyed this week.

Trent at the Simple Dollar weighs the pro’s and cons of banking your debt snowballs rather than using them directly to pay down outstanding debt; I’m gratified to see he comes down on my side of the question.

At Wisebread, Margaret Garcia-Couoh speaks eloquently in favor of the dear-sir-you-cur letter as a more effective way to get redress for complaints than telephone calls or e-mails. Roger that, sister!

Five-Cent Nickel posts a good rule of thumb and some thoughtful reflections on what a purchase really costs.

Money Smart Life has started a discussion about how much detail to put on your résumé, a good question indeed, especially for those who would tip their hand about their age if they listed all their experience.

At Queercents, Paula urges us to buy local produce and offers several avenues to do so.

Doughroller warns that the Roth 401k is not for everyone…indeed, not for most folks who earn less than $1 million a year. This interesting post contains several links to other articles on the subject of Roth 401k plans.

Speaking of Roth IRAs, Brip Blap offers a dark vision of evil future politicians reneging on the promise of tax-free Roth proceeds (can we spell “man the barricades?” how about “Boston Tea Party”?).

Moolanomy has a fresh take on the question of whether we’re better or worse off financially than our parents: what he calls “financial distractions.” This is a good insight that’s hard to argue with.

Be This Way brings up a topic I recently heard discussed on NPR: the practice of gathering information about your lifestyle based on your purchasing habits, and then using it to determine your credit card rates. Whatever you do, don’t buy a retread, get a massage, or visit a marriage counselor-or if you must, for heaven’s sake pay in cash, under the radar.

Mrs. Micah has opened a conversation on things to consider before taking on a mortgage, which has generated some good comments.

Paid Twice is discussing disability insurance. Today she focuses on long-term disability; a few days ago she had a post on short-term disability insurance, both important issues to understand.

Outa here! Have a happy Fourth.

Why there is no cross-over point

For most of us, the goal in building wealth is to reach the “crossover point,” where passive income from investments equals the amount you need to live on. The sooner the better: early crossover point = early retirement.

It’s times like these, though, that give me pause about that idea. To retire with little risk of a gigantic cut in living standards, you would need to have so much money invested that, unless you’re an entrepreneurial wizard, it would take an entire lifetime to accumulate it. Most of us will never manage to do so. The amount needed to support you reliably through an extended retirement would have to far exceed the actual crossover point.

Why? Two reasons:

  1. Inflation
  2. The vagaries of the stock market

Either of these can destroy the purchasing power of your investments; since high inflation and unstable market conditions often occur together, you can expect that sometime during your retirement, you’ll watch both of them sit down side by side to the dinner table that is your life savings.

That’s the case right now. At the end of March, my total investments came to about $583,000. Today, with the belated 403b statements from TIAA-CREF and Fidelity finally in hand, the total comes to $551,700, a loss of $31,300. Meanwhile, costs for food and gasoline are pushing my daily expenses past my budget.

What Dependence on Passive Income Would Mean to Me

If I tried to live on 4% of savings (the amount recommended as a safe drawdown) plus Social Security, I would experience a 35% pay cut. Not that it would matter, because I couldn’t live on 4% of what I have in savings anyway. Four percent of $583,000, the pre-stock fall amount, is a grand $23,320. Add my projected Social Security payments of $16,608 to that, and you get a munificent income of $39,928: a $22,072 cut in pay at retirement.

I can’t live on that. I’m barely living on what I earn.

In fact, as we speak my week-to-week budget is again in the red and about to go deeper therein: this afternoon the pool repair guy will clip me for $105, leaving me $4 in the hole against a budget supposed to last until the sixth. Today is the first. Thursday I have to go to the doctor; that will be a $20 copay, putting me $24 in the hole. If I have to buy prescription meds, add another $20 to that: $44 in the red. That means that even if I buy no food, no dog food, no gasoline, no toiletries, no cleaning goods-if I buy absolutely nothing-I will start next week $44 short. And this month I’ve had no extraordinary expenses, unless you call this afternoon’s overdue routine pool maintenance extraordinary.

I can’t let the pool ride until next week, because the pump and filter have slowed to the point where they’re not driving the system efficiently enough to keep the pool clean in an Arizona summer’s extreme weather conditions. Letting your pool go green is a violation of the law; the county flies over the city in helicopters, checking pools from the air. The fine for neglecting the pool would demolish my budget permanently.

The costs of gasoline and food are now so high that my budget will not cover all my routine needs. That’s while I’m earning $22,000 more than I will see during retirement, when about two-thirds of my income will be based on an optimistic projection of investment income.

These needs will never change: I always will have to eat, I always will have to maintain the dwelling I occupy, I always will have to transport myself around the city to purchase necessities.

You might say I simply haven’t reached my crossover point. I would reply that for most people, there is no crossover point.

What This Means for All of Us

The longer you work, the more you appear to earn: inflation alone pushes your salary higher through cost of living increases, and if you have a decent employer, you get occasional merit increases. But the more you earn, the more it takes to live. Even though my salary is high in absolute terms (the median income for a four-person family), the truth is that relative to the cost of living, it is the same or even lower than it was a year ago. So, probably, is yours.

Lower, indeed: since May 2007, when I started the weekly budget plan, I was consistently in the black until the March/April 2008 cycle. Every budget cycle ended in the black overall…until inflation ticked up and income stayed static. Since April, I’ve been in the red almost every week. Because state employees received neither COLAs nor merit increases this year, costs have risen but my income has stayed static. Remember, if you retire when you reach the crossover point, income always stays static.

Let’s imagine, for example, if I were retired and would never see another merit pay increase; if the only increase I would see would be an occasional cost of living increase in Social Security, not necessarily granted every year; if every time the stock market dropped, I saw a cut in pay. Add to that the ever-increasing cost of Medicare.

If I work until I’m 66 and we grant that I need about as much as I’m earning now to stay where I’m living and not be forced to move someplace cheaper, then the crossover point that would allow me to remain in my paid-off home would require income-generating savings of $1,134,800, and that amount would have to increase annually to keep up with inflation! In other words, the recommended 4% drawdown from life savings of over a million dollars combined with Social Security would not suffice to provide a person with enough income to live in my current modest (some would say “ascetic”), debt-free style.

Thus I would argue that unless you are part of a married couple, both of you are earning in the six figures, and you live frugally, stay out of debt, and save exuberantly, you are unlikely ever to see a real crossover point at which your passive income will cover your expenses for the rest of your life. This applies to most people who think of themselves as members of the middle class: teachers, midlevel administrators, shopkeepers, sales staff, police officers, fire fighters, most people in the trades, most government employees, just about anyone who inhabits a cube…virtually all of us.

What Can Be Done

If you are a young person, get out of debt, stay out of debt, and save every penny you can. Max out your employment-related savings plan, fully fund a Roth IRA every year, and put everything else you can into non-tax-deferred savings.

Angle to get yourself into a decently paid job that’s not too obnoxious, so that you can contemplate working until death do you part from your employer without wincing at the very thought of it.

Why not simply plan to work until you drop dead and just spend everything you earn? Because few of us will stay healthy long enough to work until we die. Because we live in a culture that abhors age and discriminates against the elderly, and so few of us are likely to be able to hold a decent job until we die. Even though you probably will need to work well into old age, you had better have enough savings to live on between the time you can no longer land and hold a job and the time you shuffle off this mortal coil.

If you are my age (born during the Cretaceous Period): do not even think about retiring unless you have well over a million dollars per person to generate passive income.

I’m now planning to work until I’m 70 and to bank after-tax Social Security income starting at 66 1/2, when I’m eligible for the full amount. If I can hold my job that long, I can maintain my lifestyle for a while longer. If I die before then, at least I won’t have had to choose between going hungry or moving to cheaper housing in a ghetto for the elderly. If I live that long, the number of years remaining to me will be few enough that a larger draw-down probably won’t consume my entire savings before I die-and maybe I can even stay in my home.

2 Comments left on iWeb site:

frugalscholar

The crossover point from YMYL is based on absolute certainty of income: the book recommended Treasury Bonds, which at the time paid a guaranteed 8-10%.Those days are long gone.

YMYL also said not to be afraid of inflation: I am tracking this right now.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008 – 10:31 A

vh

IMHO not to fear inflation is to wear blinders.

My father thought he had plenty to carry him and my mother through a long and comfortable retirement. Then came the 1970s and double-digit inflation. His formerly generous savings, which indeed were invested conservatively, bought him a poverty-level lifestyle.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008 – 12:51 P

The Personal Finance Confession Project: Do as I say…

Yesterday Be This Way issued a challenge to confess our financial sins, and I have a big one. It involves huge stupidity, vast hypocrisy, and unfathomable mystery. It goes like this:

All the time I was married-25 years, give or take a few months-I earnestly advised women friends whose marriages were stressed that they must establish their own credit, have credit cards and bank accounts in their own names, understand where their money came from and where it went, know how it was invested and why, and keep property that they had when they came in to the union sole and separate.

Meanwhile, during the entire time I was dispensing these edifying lectures, I had no clue about my own marriage’s finances. Not one single clue.

We did not have a budget, because my husband felt that was for poor people. He took charge of the finances and kept charge of them. Credit card in my own name? Not a chance! I carried a fistful of joint cards in my purse. Bank account of my own? N/A. I had no idea what was in our joint checking account, no idea if we even had a savings account or if we did, what it contained. I knew he had a pension fund through his firm, only because the law required employers that offered pension funds for some employees to provide them for all employees, and I knew he borrowed against it with some frequency. But I did not know how much he was contributing to the fund or how much it had accrued.

Nor did I have any idea that we were up to our hairlines in debt. I charged up a $200 silk shirt (in 1991, that was a lot to spend on one piece of clothing), never realizing that my husband couldn’t pay the credit card bills and was making only minimum payments on the $30,000 we had racked up on the plastic. Operating as though it was his job to earn the money (he made something over 10 grand a month) and mine to spend it, I insisted that we buy a new Toyota Land Cruiser, little knowing we were sinking into a million dollars worth of debt.

When I inherited $40,000 from an aunt, a nagging feeling that one day I might want to fly the coop pushed me to keep the money separate from the community property. When I asked what I should do with such a large chunk of cash, he had me talk with his personal banker, who advised me to put it in one-week CDs!

Think of that. It sat in those things for a good year, rolling over once a week and earning nothing, because I didn’t know any better.

By the time I decided to leave, he had paid the million dollars of debt down to three-quarters of a million. That was when I learned he had two bank accounts and a credit card in his name only, about which I knew nothing. I had no credit in my own name-after the divorce, my favorite department store would do business with me on a cash basis only (which may have been for the best). I hadn’t handled a checking or savings account in 25 years, not since we were married. I imagined I could make a living as a freelance writer (!), and that the modest investments I’d cobbled together from the inheritance and my half of the pension fund would support me in this folly. Accordingly, the spousal support I accepted was a fraction of what my lawyer and my more knowledgeable friends thought was enough

Why? I was not a child-I married at 23 and was 46 when I left. Evidently I knew better, since I was advising my friends to think clearly about money and protect their own interests. Why did I behave like a child?

Beats me. Maybe it had to do with the way I was raised, but I doubt it. My father went to sea most of his life, and my mother handled their affairs, finances included, during his lengthy absences. I was on autopilot throughout most of the marriage, not fully conscious of anything that was going on around me. Once my ex- mentioned a trip we had taken, one that apparently was pretty interesting; I can’t remember a thing about it. I don’t even remember having made the trip at all. Strange.

Whatever. Do as I say, not as I do.