Happiness at Home
Edmund Marsh | Oct 6, 2022
I HAVE READ THAT spending on experiences brings more happiness than spending on things. But what about the experience of buying? Can that make us happy? I’ve lived in my small community for 21 years. Over that time, my regular buying habits have led me to discover people who provide me with excellent service. They also supply me with a generous measure of genuine satisfaction. Every third Friday, I sit and listen to a great raconteur as he cuts my hair. Rick’s stories are sometimes touching, sometimes indignant, but always humorous. His talk is voluminous and rapid. I have to slide in my stories edgewise. Rick gets a raise as my income goes up, and I don’t mind paying it. I leave with a happy heart as well as a haircut. I own several gasoline-powered tools, which means I frequent a shop run by Javin, a master of small engine repair. We always take a moment to catch up. He updates me on his father, who operated the shop before an illness forced him into early retirement. We worry about the weather, which affects his business and my garden. I could save money by doing some repairs and maintenance myself, and sometimes I do, but I don’t mind giving work to Javin. I find pleasure in doing my part to keep his business open. My heart sank the day last year that Arnie told me he was closing his car repair shop to take a teaching job at the local technical college. For years, he had helped me milk more miles out of my cars. I was happy for him, though, because I knew dependable help was scarce and he was overworked. Arnie didn’t leave me stranded. He recommended a mechanic friend who has since proven his worth. I’m hopeful that…
Read more » Adios, America
Edmund Marsh | Feb 9, 2023
OVER EIGHT MILLION Americans have said “so long” to the U.S., heading overseas to work or retire. These expats—short for expatriates—most likely have eight million different reasons to leave our shores for life in another country. My wife’s cousin Chuck and her brother John are among them. John had his eye on living abroad when he took his first engineering job with Litton Aero Products, where he helped support aviation customers in the Middle East. Headquartered first in Tehran, then London and eventually France, his work and a penchant for travel took him to destinations throughout Europe, Asia and Africa. John was always on the lookout for exotic treasures to bring home. His best discovery was a gem of a woman named Rosemarie. Rosemarie was a New Zealander living in France and working as an English teacher. She soon consented to marry John, and together they started a family in the U.S. Within a few years, however, they were on a plane with four young children bound for New Zealand. Chuck was also looking to leave the U.S. for a life elsewhere. With the family wanderlust pulling him toward a job overseas, he packed up his occupational therapy skills and headed for Saudi Arabia. Chuck’s love of travel has taken him to 66 countries and fostered friendships all over the globe. After retirement, moving to Panama was hardly a daunting decision. He relished the chance to immerse himself in a new culture and explore that part of the planet. Chuck says Panama is a global crossroads with a long history of welcoming visitors and immigrants alike. Eight years ago, he and his wife Jeanne moved to the mountain town of Boquete. Even with a busy travel schedule that takes them all over Central America and Mexico, they’ve managed to settle…
Read more » On My Own Time
Edmund Marsh | Feb 5, 2025
WHO OWNS TIME? WE speak of “my time” and “your time” as if it were a possession we hold in our hands. But we can’t stash it away for future use, nor can we trade or transfer our allotment to another person. Is it truly ours? For the moment, let’s say that it is. Appraising time. How much do we value our time? Some days, we treat it as a precious commodity. On those days, if we’re in a generous mood, we’ll share minutes with a friend or donate them to a cause that stirs our passions. Alternatively, we might be time-stingy. We value our seconds more than people. We zealously hoard our hours, begrudging the moments others manage to wheedle away from us. Either way, it’s obvious that time is a treasure. But we can also be careless with time. We may mindlessly go about our workday, going through the motions until quitting time arrives. Once home, we aimlessly click on internet articles or flip through television channels, lingering until the clock or exhaustion announces our bedtime. Instead of managing time well, we just manage to make it to the ends of the weeks that become months that accumulate into years. What does it matter? If I’m indeed master of my time, who’s to say I can’t treat it as I please? Maybe no one. But consider a couple of other perspectives. Some religions, including my own Christianity, believe time is part of creation. God is eternal, and therefore outside of time, but all else is subject to the ravages of time’s relentless passage. It’s a gift to be used wisely, like all resources entrusted to us. Though I may fall short of that mark, my failure doesn’t relieve me of my responsibility. Even if we don’t hold this view,…
Read more » Doin’ the Charleston
Edmund Marsh | Sep 1, 2023
I WROTE RECENTLY about my wife’s lifelong love of traveling, and of my resolve to get in step with her as she resumes her rambles. To that end, earlier this summer, I drove our family to Charleston, South Carolina, to attend the retirement ceremony for my cousin Chris, and to see a bit of the city, to boot. As our departure time approached, we learned that the original schedule for retirement day had been altered. Chris advised my wife that he understood if we wanted to change our plans. She assured him she wouldn't miss an event that got her stay-at-home family—my daughter and me—to travel somewhere, anywhere, and especially to Charleston. She’s enamored of the city, but for years has been unsuccessful at enticing me to accompany her there for a tour. Chris’s big day was just the lure to get me out of the house and into the car. After a morning drive from our home near Atlanta, we began our Charleston excursion with a tour of the U.S.S. Yorktown, a World War II-era aircraft carrier resting permanently at Patriots Point. We explored the ship from engine room to captain’s chair, including a stroll on the flight deck to investigate the variety of aircraft on display. Along the way, we tried to imagine the sailors and naval aviators at work in dangerous locations far removed from the quiet of Charleston Harbor. The next day was devoted to helping Chris and his friend Matt say so long to the United States Air Force in a dual retirement ceremony. Their lives have been intertwined for years. They graduated college together and were commissioned as Air Force officers on the same day. After spending much of their 22 years of active and reserve service together, they were now sharing their retirement…
Read more » Take a Seat
Edmund Marsh | Feb 26, 2025
MILESTONES MARK the growth of a child as she moves from infancy through school age. In similar fashion, we adults tend to measure our life’s progress with “firsts” or other significant events. Perhaps we remember the feeling of maturity that came with our first kiss or our first job. Milestones help us attach meaning to the course of a life that sometimes seems beyond our control. Financial milestones often command special significance, like my first “real” job at age 15. My older brother got me hired by a company building a bank. My parents surprised me with unusual lenience by letting me drive myself in a borrowed vehicle, though I was still a few months from having an unrestricted license. On my first day, my initial task was enlarging the vent hole for the concrete vault with a hammer and chisel. Next came breaking up a sidewalk with a sledge hammer. I thought I was lucky to be called away from that work, but instead found myself hauling heavy landscaping timbers in the rain at the boss’s friend’s beach house. I got back to the jobsite wet and covered with sand. When I pointed out to the foreman that I’d had no lunch, he begrudgingly let me leave with the admonition to “hurry back.” Instead, I hurried to my truck, hurried home and never looked back. I don’t say that with pride, but I have no regrets. Despite my rough start, followed by a few tough years, my financial journey eventually smoothed out. The milestones began passing by with some regularity for my wife and me. Whether frugal by nature or nurture, our aggressive saving—and lack of troubles—left ample money from each paycheck to ladle into growing retirement accounts. I kept close tabs on the burgeoning balances, excited to see…
Read more » Reverse Hospitality
Edmund Marsh | Oct 12, 2022
IN THE SOUTH, it’s common for a restaurant server or store clerk to refer to me as “sweetie” or “honey.” I’ll often respond by asking, “How did you know my name is Sweetie?” This will usually bring a smile to the face of even a harried worker. Our friendly banter is the worker practicing some of the charm and hospitality that the South is famous for, and me returning the courtesy with “reverse hospitality.” A commercial transaction doesn’t involve just money. Two people are face to face, one looking to serve and the other to be served. There are exceptions, sometimes notable, but most of the time the servers are polite and friendly. They do their best to provide what I want to buy and give me a smile while doing it. I think I have a responsibility to return the favor. Telephone transactions are a little more challenging, but I still try to make it personal with a friendly comment or question like “how’s the weather where you are?” or “do I hear chickens in the backyard?” Am I always patient and diplomatic? No. Sometimes, I’m preoccupied with my own thoughts and needs. I view the person in front of me or on the phone as an obstacle between me and what I want, and I can be brusque. My wife can attest to that. I know, however, that I should give the other person the same courtesy and respect that I want to receive. What does reverse hospitality get me? I can’t say for certain that it puts more money in my pocket. But I also can’t claim that I’m being purely altruistic. If I do plan to ask for a better deal or special service, I’d rather ask it of a new friend. Maybe I can charm…
Read more »
The Vision, the Babe , Einstein and the Q
mflack | Apr 25, 2026
Note to HD Writers and Contributors
Elaine M. Clements | Apr 3, 2026
The great COLA debate-maybe not the expected solution.
R Quinn | Apr 26, 2026
Investing Fundamentals: A Simple Guide for Beginners
William Housley | Apr 24, 2026
How much to provide a college student monthly?
Chris | Apr 25, 2026
Happy 50th!
Rick Connor | Apr 27, 2026
Live a little
greg_j_tomamichel | Apr 25, 2026
Around the Obstacles
ArticleDan Smith | Apr 25, 2026
- My continued employment as a delivery driver would likely have left me on Social Security Disability (SSDI) by age 55.
- I was very interested in personal finance, and knew many people in that field who would help me get my foot in the door.
- I had acquired bookkeeping, payroll, and tax prep skills through my involvement with my local union, though I never pictured myself as the type to sit behind a desk, in a dimly lit office, crunching numbers beneath the glow of one of those green shade banker’s lamps.
- As a last resort, I could fall back on my truck driving skills, using my commercial drivers license to get a job hauling ‘no-touch’ freight of some sort.
- Last but not least, I needed a place to live. “Hello, mom and dad, I need my room back”. Sleeping on the twin mattress I gave up 25 years earlier, was not part of my plan.
- I was determined not to let my occupation as a beer truck driver dictate my future job prospects.
Where did I want to be?- Where to live? Living with the folks was never meant to be a long term thing. After three months of that, I signed my first ever apartment lease as a lessee, as opposed to a lessor. That lasted two years, until a very large increase in the rent caused me to buy a duplex, and become a lessor again.
- Where to work? I continued my work as a delivery driver for three more years. My position as the local union president, and my five paid weeks of vacation actually kept me off of the truck much of the time. That enabled me to tolerate the maladies that would eventually force me out of that job. Having absolutely no desire to spend the balance of my life languishing on SSDI and a minimal IRA balance, I set off on the path to becoming a financial services guy. That did not work out, and if you want more information on that, here’s a link.
- To make ends meet, I turned to my last resort; driving a truck. Piloting an 18-wheeler was not how I envisioned my remaining working days. And although the freight was ‘no touch’, driving 600 miles every day in a Kenworth tractor is still pretty hard on your vertebrae. But sometimes you have to do what you have to do to survive and to keep your eye on your finish line. My heart goes out to full time drivers, that job is no walk in the park.
- And what about love? My preference was to be in a relationship, but not any relationship. I wanted a good partner, I wanted to be a good partner as well. What qualities would I look for in a new partner? Independent, established, confident, and nice. Was I asking too much?
Making it All Work Finally, preparation collided with opportunity. In other words, I got lucky. Remember when I told you I didn’t picture myself as ever being a bean-counter? Two established financial services guys set me up with free office space and began funneling tax prep clients to me. What began with me preparing taxes for about three dozen of my union brothers, instantly turned into over 100 clients. There I was, a bean counter of sorts. I kept that truck driving job for several more years. And remember that duplex I bought after the rent spiked at my apartment? Well, there was this girl living next door. Enter Chrissy. We became best friends. She is no longer my neighbor. She is now my spouse. Of course, at the time we met, aside from being a nice guy, I wasn’t much of a catch. Man, she took a chance on me. As my client count went up, my days driving the big-rig went down. When the client count got to about 400, I retired forever from driving. No more trips to Chicago, Des Moines, Snow Shoe PA, or Jersey City. Chrissy and I began pounding 40% of our gross pay into savings. It would take until I was 70, but working together, we got to a place each of us only dreamed we would be. By living within our means, and keeping lifestyle creep to a minimum, we surpassed our goals. Chris retired at 64 and helped me during my final three years as a tax preparer. Lucky for me, Federal Wage and Hour never found out that I violated the minimum wage laws by never paying her in the first place. I sold the practice at age 70. I prepared 650 tax returns in my final year. It’s important to note that during our journey, we did not starve ourselves of food nor fun. We counted 27 trips during our first ten years together. Chris was great at finding great deals to various destinations in the Caribbean, and we turned several of her business trips into mini vacations as well. It’s important to prepare for the future, but have some fun along the way as well. I hope this piece inspires someone who is still on the road, dealing with similar obstacles, and wondering if there was a way around them.Hidden Surcharge
DAN SMITH | Apr 21, 2026
A Life You Build
Jeff Peck | Apr 19, 2026
Rethinking the “Right” Time for Social Security
Andrew Clements | Apr 23, 2026
Lonely Island (Correct Edit)
Mark Crothers | Apr 22, 2026
Driving Prices
ArticleAdam M. Grossman | Apr 25, 2026