FREE NEWSLETTER
I MUST ADMIT THAT a part of me finds the subject of inflation a little boring and yet endearing, because it reminds me of conversations with my late mother. She’d balk at paying $2.50 for a cup of coffee at Dunkin’—hey old-timers, that’s what they call it now—as she distinctly remembered buying a cup of coffee for a nickel the day Pearl Harbor was bombed.
Another part of me, though, is feeling a little pinched. In my prior article about inflation, I reviewed some of the obvious antidotes: Don’t drive a pickup truck, slow down, don’t buy bottled water, shop at Aldi, turn up the thermostat and get Fidelity Investments to give you $100. I subsequently realized that the fight against higher prices goes on and that these further countermeasures may need to be deployed:
1. Pop your own corn. In 2018, I stayed in an Airbnb in Montague, Michigan, that came with a gratis container of loose corn that renters could pop “the old-fashioned way”—that is, by heating kernels in a saucepan. The secret is applying a generous layer of olive oil to the bottom of the pan.
It was a revelation, as this popped corn tasted far better than all the previous corn I’d ever popped, including using a microwavable bag of indeterminate composition. Since that fateful day, I’ve never gone back. As investments go, this has to be my most profitable, with an internal rate of return that’s over 1,000% per serving. It has the added benefits of healthier and tastier snacking. Eat it straight or with a twist of salt.
2. Do or don’t rotate your own tires. When it comes to car advice, I only trust two men: Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers—the auto mechanics who used to have the show on National Public Radio called Car Talk. While their automotive knowledge was quite extensive—both were MIT-educated—I appreciated that it was delivered with a modicum of humility and a maximum of humor.
They believed that paying more than $20 to rotate your tires didn’t make economic sense. As that advice is more than a few years old now, I’m going to adjust that to $25, to account for the subject at hand—inflation.
Since the local auto repair place charges $25, I realized that I needed to skip the tire rotation, adjust the Tappet Brothers’ cutoff for inflation or rotate the tires myself. In this case, DIY can be a burdensome and time-consuming experience, but hey, I’m retired.
Note: You may not want to rotate your tires the day before a road trip to Bentonville, Arkansas, in 95-degree weather, as you may strip the wheel lock key, forcing you to drive like a maniac to a local dealer just before closing and pray to dear God they have a master key. This is all hypothetical.
3. Drink economical whiskey. When my old employer used to buy me a Manhattan on the rocks, it always seemed to come with Woodford Reserve. Now that I’m retired, it always seems to come with something else, though lately the price of something else has increased a little more than I’d prefer.
Thankfully, I’ve stumbled across a fixed-income remedy, Mellow Corn Straight Corn Whiskey at $17.99 a bottle. It’s pretty damn good. I wouldn’t drink the stuff straight, but mixed with a little sweet vermouth, bitters and two cherries, it’s a real inflation buster. I guess I could just reduce my drinking. But did I mention that it comes in at 100 proof?
4. Use Capital One Shopping. In a prior article, I mentioned the virtual credit card benefits of Capital One. Another benefit, which doesn’t require a Capital One credit card, is called Capital One Shopping, which is an app installed on your web browser that scours the internet for a better deal than the one you’re currently offered.
I used this on a recent trip to Jefferson City, Missouri, to save $35 on a two-night hotel stay. It also plugged a promo code into booking.com that saved me 10% on a seven-night stay in Seattle.
5. Buy the Joy of Cooking cookbook. If I’d invested what I paid for every cookbook in my basement, attic, closet and garage in Amazon stock, I most likely wouldn’t be writing this thesis—at least not from the confines of the conterminous United States.
Cookbooks are like porn. You read them and think, “Yeah, I could see myself doing that,” though in all likelihood you will not. You might as well limit your wallet and bookshelf to just one cookbook—the best one. Unlike most, it’s not just a book of recipes, it’s a tutorial on everything from alcohol (see No. 3 above) to zucchini.
As Kierkegaard might have said—if instead of being born into an affluent family in Copenhagen in 1813 he was, like my mother, born in Queens, New York, in 1921, lived through the Great Depression and 13.55% inflation in 1980— “Life is not a reality to be experienced, but unrelenting inflation to be ameliorated.”
Michael Flack blogs at AfterActionReport.info. He’s a former naval officer and 20-year veteran of the oil and gas industry. Now retired, Mike enjoys traveling, blogging and spreadsheets. Check out his earlier articles.
Want to receive our weekly newsletter? Sign up now. How about our daily alert about the site's latest posts? Join the list.
Cookbooks, yes, food porn – also websites and blogs, which require paper and ink to print the recipes which then must be housed in binders by categories. Itsa real hobby. Came late to Joy of Cooking myself, can recommend Low-Salt Sweet Cucumber Slices, Bread and Butter And Quick Dill Pickles. Swept the my County Fair in all processed foods last year 🙂
D. Rae, thanks for your comments and the new recipe.