Andrew Forsythe

I TURN 70 IN JANUARY and my wife just turned 65. I recently applied for my Social Security benefits, and got her kicked off with Medicare. I needed to call both agencies. What a contrast I’ve seen in their responsiveness.
As I’ve conceded before, I’m a bit of a fanatic when it comes to this topic.
We set up my wife’s online Medicare account, and she designated me as her “authorized representative.” Like most couples,

THE ABOVE HEADLINE doesn’t refer to Afghanistan. Even that 20-year struggle has finally come to an end. This is about an even more relentless campaign—against the cable company. In my case, that means Spectrum, part of Charter Communications.
The first question is, why haven’t I cut the cord? The short answer: My wife loves sports on TV and cable seems to be the only way to get all her favorites.
As cable victims know,

AS A HAPPILY RETIRED 69-year-old, I still remember a conversation I had with an acquaintance two decades ago. The gentleman had had many years in the military, followed by time as a city police officer. He had recently retired—forever—from his third career in federal law enforcement. That meant he was sitting pretty with three different pensions. To top it all off, he was probably in his mid-50s.
Even though my own retirement was still many years away,

WHEN IT COMES to communication, I’m kind of a fanatic. (My wife would say I should drop the “kind of.”) More specifically, I’m a fan of responsive communication.
Back in my working days, when I practiced criminal law, I made it a point to return phone calls and emails from clients promptly. It was rare that I didn’t do it the same day. If that meant staying late at the office until I caught up,

“THERE IS A VERY fine line between ‘hobby’ and ‘mental illness’,” according to humorist Dave Barry.
Some years ago, we had a weekend place—a cabin on acreage—which we greatly enjoyed, even if it did come with challenges. One thing I especially enjoyed: taking the kids on nighttime walks to see how many critters we could spot. That led to an interest in flashlights, and I collected a bunch of them. That, in turn, led to a keen interest in pocketknives.

I HATE DEBT. A very happy day was when we paid off the mortgage. I’d rather walk on broken glass than pay a penny of interest on my credit cards. But there have been a few exceptions to my usual rule, all involving car purchases.
The first was many years ago when I reached what I thought was an all-cash deal on a new car. The salesman surprised me when he offered the same price with 0% financing.

IN MY CALLOW YOUTH, I would sometimes travel northeast from Austin, Texas, on Highway 79. It was a peaceful and somewhat lonely drive as I passed through various sleepy little towns, with the railroad track paralleling the highway to my right. The sound of the occasional train whistle was the perfect musical accompaniment.
One of the first towns I’d get to was Rockdale, which was best known for having a big Alcoa aluminum factory.

WHEN I WAS A KID in the late 1950s, if a toy was stamped “Made in Japan,” it meant it was cheap and poorly made. A decade or so later, that label began to mean something entirely different: If you wanted a top-notch TV, you were considering a Sony. If you were shopping for the most reliable car, Toyota, Datsun (later renamed Nissan) and Honda were on your list.
There’s a parallel today with China,

I’M 69 YEARS OLD and so have spent most of my life dealing with people—and businesses—in person. That said, I’ve loved and greatly benefited from the internet revolution and appreciate its marvels in a way that only a person who lived in the “before” period can. I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently, and about how important it is—or isn’t—to have face-to-face relationships with the people I do business with.
For many years,

A FEW DAYS AGO, I drove up to a JP Morgan Chase ATM to make a cash withdrawal. The infernal machine not only wouldn’t spit out the cash or a receipt, but also it was a struggle even to get my card back. I parked and went inside, expecting a quick resolution.
The teller told me that she could see on her computer that my account was dinged for the cash withdrawal. But she also told me that the ATMs are managed by a third-party vendor,

AS JULY BEGAN, there was happy news for Chase Freedom Visa cardholders like me: One of the categories for 5% rewards this quarter is grocery stores. We spend a lot on groceries, which means I’ll get a nice cash reward from Chase.
I’m a big believer in credit card cash rewards for two reasons. First, of course, there’s the reward money. The second reason is psychological: Credit card companies are notorious for the outrageous interest and fees they exact from anyone who doesn’t pay off every nickel every month,

HERE AT HUMBLEDOLLAR and in many other places, this point has been made: The best investment portfolio isn’t the one that’s theoretically or empirically superior. Rather, it’s the one that lets you sleep at night.
What I’ve found, as far as my portfolio goes, is that the necessary prerequisite for a good night’s sleep is one thing above all else: an oversized cash reserve. By that, I mean a cash hoard that can handle not only the most likely contingencies,

WE INCREASINGLY DO business with gigantic impersonal companies: banks, insurers, credit card issuers, cable and phone companies, utilities, and huge retailers like Amazon, Home Depot and Walmart. Often, we deal with them at a distance—by phone, mail, and especially online or via email.
When disputes or problems arise, we’re typically forced to contact their so-called customer service departments, which are often sorely lacking in service. Even before getting to a human, we have to run the gauntlet of an annoying robot,

I’M A DINOSAUR. Not only do I prepare my own tax return with no help from an accountant or tax preparer, but also I do it by hand. Yep, that’s right—no TurboTax or other computer program.
I really can’t use the computer programs because I often attach an oddball form or two that they don’t offer. On top of that, I always add “annotations” to parts of my return. These additional explanatory notes may be helpful to the IRS.

AH, A SECOND HOME—a fond dream for so many. While we try to justify a weekend house as a “good investment,” they’re often bought to fulfill some emotional need.
For some, it’s a beach house. For others, it’s a mountain getaway. But for me, it’s always been a place in the country. I’m an introvert. The prospect of getting away from crowds and noise to a secluded place of peace and quiet is my ideal.