Jim Kerr

ONE OF THE PERILS of being a HumbleDollar contributor is that you sometimes get hit up for advice that you aren’t necessarily qualified to give.
Such was the case recently when I was having breakfast with an old buddy. The topic turned to money and investments. Joe and I have been good friends since the days when we played on the high school basketball team. We try to get together every month or so to catch up and reminisce about old times.

THIS HAS BEEN A YEAR of living large in the Kerr household.
I just finished adding up the numbers for 2024, and between my son’s wedding in Colorado in June, my own wedding in October, our honeymoon afterward, a vacation to Key West, a new car for my new wife, and various long-overdue repairs to Rachael’s townhouse, I spent upwards of $60,000 on items I hadn’t budgeted for in 2024.
The tally doesn’t include the $9,000 I spent on a hot tub for the mountain house.

I’M NOT PARTICULARLY well traveled. I’ll turn age 65 at the end of this year and I’ve never been to a Caribbean island. I’ve never been to Hawaii or Bermuda. Heck, I’ve never even been on a cruise.

I’ve never been to Canada or Alaska. I’ve been to a couple of the U.S. National Parks, but have yet to visit the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone and Yosemite. 

I’ve been to Europe quite a few times,

CALL IT THE GREAT unretirement. Hit by rising living costs and unexpected feelings of boredom, one out of eight retirees plan to return to work this year, according to a recent survey.
I’m one of them. Two and a half years after retiring from the corporate world, I’m headed back to work. I’ve accepted a position as lead writer for the CEO of a Fortune 200 technology company. I’ll be writing the CEO’s speeches,

LAST MONTH MARKED two years since I leapt into the unknown and left the security of the corporate world to begin a second act as an independent writer. How’s it gone? Have things panned out as I hoped, financially and otherwise? 
Let’s be clear upfront that this move was never about making money. It was about taking a shot at my long-held dream of being an author. I’d put that dream on the back burner for three decades as I did what was necessary to support my family.

CALL ME SOLITARY MAN. I’ve never been much of a joiner. I’ve never belonged to a country club and can count on two hands the number of social organizations I’ve been part of during my working years.
Part of this was because I didn’t have a lot of time to pursue outside interests while working 14-hour days as a corporate manager. What spare time I did have, I preferred to spend writing, fishing, hiking or engaged in other solitary pursuits.

I JUST HAD ANOTHER reminder that, when managing our health and the costs that come with it, we need to be our own best advocates.
Last September, I started developing headaches. Every day, I’d wake up with a dull ache in my left temple area. The headache would often build during the day and, by evening, I was feeling washed out and pretty miserable.
I’m fortunate not to suffer from migraines, but tension headaches have been the bane of my existence for many years.

A RECENT CNBC SURVEY found that more than half of Americans don’t have an emergency fund to handle life’s financial curveballs. The survey also found that seniors are more likely to have an emergency fund than younger adults, and men are more likely to maintain a rainy-day fund than women.

I don’t know how I’d manage if I didn’t have an emergency fund. Now that I’m retired from fulltime work, I try to keep to a fixed budget,

THREE YEARS AGO this month, in the middle of the pandemic-driven market meltdown, I went on a dividend-stock buying spree.
I had just turned 60 and was looking to step away from the corporate world in 18 months’ time to take up a second-act career as an author. As part of my retirement plan, I had a sizable money-market account that I planned to live on for a few years before I started taking Social Security and pulling from my retirement accounts.

RACHAEL AND I WENT to Walmart the other day to stock up on dog food—and came away with a severe case of sticker shock.
We feed our two dogs a daily menu of dry food mixed into a delightful mash with a little canned wet food. Our go-to brands are Purina Dog Chow for the dry food and Pedigree Chopped Ground Dinner for the wet food.
The cost of the 40-pound bag of Purina dry food has barely budged.

I RECENTLY HAD a revelation about my adult children: When it comes to money, they’re a lot like me—and that’s both a good thing and a bad thing.

I had this revelation while dining with my 25-year-old son at a sports bar over the New Year’s holiday. The food was marginal—it was a sports bar, after all—but the plates came loaded with food. What’s more, the prices were quite reasonable, especially compared to those in Philadelphia and Washington,

I ADMIRE SUPER-SAVERS. I really do.
You know who I’m talking about: Ordinary people making ordinary salaries who are somehow able to sock away half or more of their disposable income and who accumulate enough to step away from the working world long before the rest of us.
We hear about these people all the time on podcasts. The couple who banked $1 million over the course of a decade by scrimping and saving.

I HAVE A RITUAL ON New Year’s Day—and it has nothing to do with making resolutions or watching college bowl games on TV.
Every Jan. 1, I pull up my handy financial planning spreadsheet on my laptop and input year-end numbers for my investment portfolio based on where the various funds closed out the year. I created the spreadsheet 20 years ago when I was in my early 40s, had just gone through a financially devastating divorce,

I STEP INTO THE OLD farmhouse where I grew up and am momentarily confused.

Where’s the blue sofa under the living room bay window with its plump pillows and cozy blankets that my mother likes to throw over her as she reads the morning paper? Where’s the coffee table with the covered pewter candy dish filled with M&Ms and Hershey Kisses? Where’s the rickety table where our family of eight crowded around for countless meals in the tiny but somehow adequate kitchen?

THEY SAY TIMING IS everything. That’s something I should know—because I’ve never been very good at it. The motto of Scotland’s Kerr clan is Sero Sed Serio, or Late, but in Earnest. That’s been my reputation since I was young.
In high school, my basketball game blossomed at the end of my senior year, just in time to have one good game of double-digit scoring before I graduated.

LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, I’ve been experiencing sticker shock lately when I step into the grocery store.
Meats, vegetables, paper products, canned goods—everything is costing a lot more. One example: My favorite brand of Good’s thin pretzels now costs $2.50 a bag—75 cents more than I was paying a year ago. Compared to the other brands in the snack aisle, those Good’s pretzels are still a bargain, but it sure doesn’t feel that way.
Along with steeper prices for gas,

SIX YEARS AGO, I made one of the worst investments of my life.
I got a dog.
Ignoring the age-old advice to never invest in anything that eats, I signed up for a purebred German shorthair pointer puppy. I thereby locked myself into an indefinite stream of future cash outflows in the form of dog food, treats, supplies, annual checkups, vaccinations, flea and tick treatments, heartworm pills, procedures and other expenses required for keeping man’s best friend healthy and happy.

I’M THE PROUD OWNER of a shiny new, state-of-the-art left hip.

My new hip is made of super-strong titanium and cobalt chrome with a ceramic femoral ball. The doctors tell me that with proper care—alas, no more running—it should last me a good 25 years. 

The prosthetic was implanted in early June and already this modern medical miracle is changing my life for the better. It’s less than two months since the surgery and all the old arthritic pain that I’ve lived with for so long is gone.

LIKE MILLIONS OF other Americans, I’m experiencing serious sticker shock when I gas up the car.
Last week, I was filling up my 2019 Ford F-150 and, for the first time ever, the bill topped $100. That was 21 gallons of regular unleaded at $4.85 a gallon.
Shelling out that kind of cash for a tankful of gas is hard enough for working folks. But for those of us who are retired and living on a set income,

YOU MIGHT WANT TO check your mailbox. Mr. Market has been sending around a book of discount coupons on some great index funds and individual stocks.
Twenty-two percent off the S&P 500’s closing high set earlier this year. Seventeen percent off the Dow Jones Industrial Average. How about a whopping 33% off the Nasdaq Composite?
Still kicking yourself for not scooping up Amazon’s stock (symbol: AMZN) in early 2020 when it was—adjusted for the recent stock split—below $100?

WITH THE MARKETS in a tizzy this year due to roaring inflation and the war in Ukraine, I’ve been kicking myself for not listening to my gut. At issue: an investment decision I made last fall.
When I left the corporate world in September, I took with me the 401(k) balance I’d built up over my five years with my former employer. I’d been aggressive with my investment choices in that 401(k), stashing half the account in Vanguard Small-Cap Growth Index Fund (symbol: VSGAX) and half in Vanguard Mid-Cap Index Fund (VIMAX).

WELL, I’M SIX MONTHS into my retirement from the corporate world. How are things going? Any regrets? Any big surprises?
No regrets, for sure. I knew that leaving the workplace at age 61 would be a tradeoff of freedom gained versus money forgone. But I had a second-act dream to pursue—becoming an author—and, for me, that tradeoff was worth going for. So far, it has been. I have my first book out and another in the works.

WHEN I STOPPED AT CVS the other day to pick up a new charging cable for my iPhone, I was reminded just how woefully out of fashion I am.
The young lady behind the counter handed me a box from the rack and watched as I took the cable out to make sure it was the right one. I guessed her to be in her early 20s. She was wearing a pair of those huge loopy earrings that you could jump hoops through out in the parking lot.

ONE OF THE GREAT pleasures of having grown children is seeing them do things better than you ever did.
My son, who’s in his mid-20s, is already well beyond me in terms of investments. When I was his age, I was still bouncing around in grad school, living off teaching stipends and dreaming of one day being a novelist. I had no concept of what a mutual fund was, how to trade stocks and bonds,

I WAS RECENTLY talking with a younger acquaintance about my decision to leave the workforce early. I’d left a demanding career to pursue my personal passions, while I was still young and healthy enough to do so.
My acquaintance is in his early 30s. He’s single and makes a boatload of money working in IT for a pharma company. He’s also a big proponent of the FIRE (financial independence-retire early) movement. He takes part in Reddit boards and reads every investment article he can get his hands on.

I JUST TURNED 62. That’s the milestone age when so much of the magic—and the decision-making—of retirement begins to happen.
For the record, although I recently left the workforce early to pursue a long-simmering passion for writing, I won’t be starting Social Security payments early. Nor—unless something changes health-wise—do I intend to begin distributions from my IRAs any time soon. Before I go down those two routes, I plan to live off my taxable-account savings and minimal dividend income for as long as I can.

A STRANGE THING is happening in corporate America right now.
The job market is booming, and companies are offering bonuses and salary increases to find and keep good people. Yet experienced workers are leaving their jobs in droves. The Labor Department reported that a record number of Americans have recently quit their jobs, part of what pundits are calling “the Great Resignation.”
I’m one of them. After 30 years leading global communications and public relations programs for multi-billion-dollar technology companies,