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WHEN I WAS a teenager in the 1960s, the popular expression was, “Do your own thing.” We baby boomers were supposed to reject our parents’ ways of thinking and do what we thought better. These better things included growing our hair long, wearing blue jeans, having beards, not wearing bras and making love, not war.
I liked this “do your own thing” way of thinking. But I also discovered that doing your own thing, when others were doing things differently, required strong convictions. That was not me. I preferred to blend in.
This changed when I retired. I decided I was going to live without the restrictions society had placed on me. Just because I was expected to act in a certain way didn’t mean I would.
I’m constantly pushing the envelope to see how far I can go. I’ve grown a beard. I’ve let my hair grow longer. I’ve donated most of my suits, white shirts and dress shoes to charity. Today, my wardrobe consists almost entirely of jeans and sweatshirts.
I’m not totally free, however. My wife expects me to behave in an acceptable manner, so I haven’t gone completely off the rails and rejected all standards. I just try to do only the things I want to do, and in the way I want to do them.
How does this relate to money? For me, the most important part of “do your own thing” is to lead a less-stressful life.
One of my life’s goals has been to become rich. Other goals formed when I was young turned out to be elusive, like going to Harvard and being named rookie of the year with the New York Yankees. Yet being rich seemed still within reach. I started on the path to wealth by spending less than I made and saving the excess.
How should I invest this surplus? That was the big question. I thought about all the different ways to become rich. Should I buy rental properties? Should I purchase individual stocks? Should I start a business? Should I marry a wealthy woman?
I’ve known people who achieved some degree of wealth using one or a combination of these. The problem is, I could never get comfortable going all out on any one of them. I was, and still am, a saver.
So, I limit my options with my excess money: I spend it on stuff, put it in a bank account or buy additional shares of my stock and bond mutual funds. Limiting my options this way has reduced my stress.
I recently watched a preview of some stock analysis software. Knowledge might be power. But to me, it’s information overload. How do I use all that information?
I’m a black and white guy. In mathematics, it’s known as binary thinking: 0s or 1s, yes or no, good or bad. Gray doesn’t work for me. Buying a stock with all the available information would require me to weigh each factor, and decide which are important and which ones I can discount. That’s too much for me.
See, I’m no Warren Buffett, and that’s okay. It’s important to be true to myself—to do my own thing. Life’s less stressful that way.
The theme of this article definitely resonates, but donating all of what my mother would call “glad rags” would only cause me to go out and get another set once someone dies or gets married.
“I’ve donated most of my suits, white shirts and dress shoes to charity.”
Ditto. That was a great day.
Excellent article. I really admire and appreciate your self-awareness. And your sense of humor!
When I was in the corporate world I had to be well groomed, hair nicely parted and combed. First thing I did after retiring was shave my head, never to comb my hair again.
Or wear a watch.
Or set an alarm.
No bra sounds great. What a curse, it’s the first thing I shed when I returned home from work.
David I identify with all that you write here except for the black and white thing. Back in the days when I considered buying stocks, I would agonize over the details and not buy anything. To me this seemed like I was seeing in shades of gray. That’s how I became a mutual fund investor. Perhaps it’s just semantics?