Richard Quinn

IT SEEMS ALL MY LIFE I’ve been obsessed with one thing: not being average. It would be nice to be the best or the highest rated. But I have been happy simply to avoid average.

I grew up in a very average family. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. Throughout school, I was very average. But in my first job as a mail boy, I went to work wearing a dress shirt and tie.

I GREW UP IN a lower-middle-class family. We lived in a small apartment where I slept on the living room couch. My father sold cars for a living.

Today, my living standard is quite different. On average, 97% of retirees my age have less income and assets than my wife and me. Our friends are in similar economic circumstances. If they weren’t, they couldn’t live where we do.

The minimum needed to live in our condo community is $24,000 a year.

IT’S FINALLY HAPPENED: I feel old. Never mind that I am old. Until recently, I didn’t feel old. One contributor to my changed mood: At 78, I’m now the same age as my father was when he died 34 years ago.

I’ve been trying to figure out why I started feeling old. The onset of the pandemic and my recent health scare are likely candidates. Before the past two years, never did I worry about my health.

IT TOOK MONEY TO resolve my recent health issue—on the surface, a lot of money. But figuring out what it really cost is difficult. Actually, I found it impossible.
Still, being a health benefits nerd, I couldn’t resist looking at the claims processed by Medicare and my Medigap insurance. Trying to understand billed charges, allowable charges and the resulting payments is daunting. I’m guessing most patients wouldn’t even try. Why should they?
My surgery was in the outpatient department but required an overnight stay.

I LIKE TO KEEP MY wallet organized. It’s a bit obsessive. All my bills must face the same direction and be upright, with the 20s in the back and singles in front. I’m thinking that means something. Turns out an organized wallet is indeed a thing.

I also save my change. All those little coins add up. To what purpose? Before we travel, I take the coins to the bank and then add the proceeds to our spending money.

WARNING: WHAT YOU read next may be interpreted as a rant—because it is.

I’m tired of hearing about how Americans are unprepared for retirement or even minor financial emergencies. A few years back, it was the inability of 40% to 50% of us to come up with $400 for an emergency. The $400 figure has been used to prove everything from the extent of inequality to how Americans struggle to manage money.

Other studies set the hurdle at $1,000.

I BECAME INVOLVED with employer health benefits in 1962. Back then, my job was to screen medical claims before sending them to the claims’ administrator for processing.

In the decades that followed, I designed, negotiated and managed health plans for a company with 15,000 employees and 4,000 retirees. My job was twofold: to make sure the health benefits were working correctly and to manage costs. The first goal was relatively easy. The second was nearly impossible.

HAVE YOU EVER MADE a plan and then had it go awry? Like the car breaking down on the highway when you’re driving to Christmas dinner, as happened to me several years ago.

Stuff happens. That’s why I can’t understand why many people preparing for retirement seem to have unwavering confidence in their planned budget—one that’s often generated using software or a spreadsheet.

Hiring a financial advisor may help. But for that advice to bolster your chances of success,

FROM TIME TO TIME, I’ve been called judgmental. Me? Just to be sure, I looked up the definition. I’ll admit I do meet some—but not all—of the criteria.

I read or listen to something, and then I start thinking. Can that be true? What are they thinking? Why would they do that? Have they considered their financial priorities and the possible consequences?

My latest target is the TV show about people buying a recreational vehicle (RV).

I RECALL PAYDAY IN 1961, when I was at my first job. There was a paymaster who would deliver our paychecks. At break time, we would be off to the nearest bank to cash our checks. I deposited most of mine in a savings account, plus $2 in my Christmas Club account. But many of my fellow workers took the whole check in cash.

I always thought taking cash was a bit risky. I once got up the nerve to ask a few friends why they took cash.

IF THERE WAS ANYONE who should have been emotionally unprepared to retire, it was me. In the years immediately before, I was at the top of my career. I’d been promoted to vice president. I had virtual total control over my job. I was recognized by nearly every employee because of my extensive employee benefits communications and the fact that I’d negotiated benefits for decades. I was among the few who routinely met with the company’s chairman.

THERE ARE TWO THINGS that Americans loathe paying: taxes and health care costs. When those two come together, watch out.
That brings us to IRMAA, short for income-related monthly adjustment amount, the steeper Medicare premiums paid by retirees with high incomes. Those who pay IRMAA are often livid about the extra cost.
I looked up my Social Security records. Over my working career, I paid $98,062 in Medicare taxes and my employer paid $97,735,

MY WIFE AND I ARE blessed with 11 grandchildren and two step-grandchildren. They range in age from six to 18. Amazingly, as we get older, they’ve gotten older, too. We’re fortunate that all of our family is no more than an hour and a quarter’s drive away.

How I miss the days when they were delighted to play with Pa. We went to parks, to playgrounds, to see koi in a pond. We made sandcastles,

AFTER 78 YEARS, my plumbing has gone awry, and I’m not talking about the kitchen sink. My doctor said something about my prostate having its own zip code. I’m waiting to have surgery and, because of fear of COVID, I’ve been quarantined for the past month.

We were supposed to be in Florida. For several years, we had rented a house using VRBO. Luckily, I was able to cancel within a week of our reservation date with no hassle.

I’M IN THE HABIT of checking my investments every day. Since I consolidated them into one Fidelity Investments’ account, it’s easy to see the impact of market movements on everything I own. I don’t depend on my investments for income, but it still shakes me up when I see big drops, especially several days in a row.

If market gyrations affect me, what must they do to retirees who depend heavily on their investments for income?