PEOPLE WHO KNOW ME say I’m sentimental, and they’re right. I like visiting places like my elementary school, the house where I grew up and my first home away from home. They bring back fond memories.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve become more nostalgic, and it isn’t just me. I heard that the ashes of my childhood friend Brian were spread over our grade school grounds. He must have had a touch of nostalgia,

EARLIER THIS YEAR, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea. I’d signed up for the August 2025 Ironman Ottawa to celebrate my 70th birthday and thought, “Why not jump on the Ozempic bandwagon for six months to drop some significant excess weight before the heavy training starts?”
I’ve struggled with my weight for years. My doctor calls me an emotional eater. I thought, if I dropped the weight and committed to keeping it off,

ONE DAY, AS I WAS walking through the mathematics building at the community college I attended, I saw a poster that screamed, “Math Majors?”
That got my attention. The poster introduced me to a career possibility: becoming an actuary. My job path was set. Or so I thought.
The actuarial career path consists of passing either five or 10 standardized tests. Complete five, and you become an associate. Complete 10, and you’re a fellow.

IMAGINE TAKING DOLLAR bills and inserting them into a shredder. This is how you might think about a concept that economists call “deadweight loss.” As its name suggests, a deadweight loss occurs when there’s an irrevocable loss of economic output.
Deadweight losses can occur under a variety of circumstances. Among them: when tariffs are imposed. It’s for that reason that the incoming administration’s tariff plan has raised concerns. But how worried should we be?

MANAGING MONEY IS about managing risk. But which risks? We all have a different collection of financial worries, and that drives the investments we buy and the insurance we purchase.
Problem is, every choice we make comes with a tradeoff. If we seek to fend off one risk, we often open ourselves up to other dangers. Consider five such tradeoffs:
1. Dying young vs. living long. When should we claim Social Security?

AFTER WATCHING MY wife bake a loaf of wheat bread, I thought I’d try making my mother’s cornbread. Luckily, I kept her recipe, along with those for some of her other delicious dishes.
My mother’s recipes can bring back cherished memories—like the time I visited my parents when they still had their dog. Brandy would always greet me when I walked in the front door. She’d jump up and down knowing I would give her a treat.

WHEN I WAS 24 YEARS old, I took a weekend trip to Reno, Nevada. My hostess for the visit wanted to go to a casino. I had no interest in gambling. But not wanting to be impolite, I agreed to go with her.
I was making $16,000 a year back then. I decided I could afford to lose $20. I got two rolls of quarters and sat down at a slot machine. As I was getting close to losing the last of my coins,

WE RECEIVED A PHOTO Christmas card from a guy I used to work with. The picture was taken at his daughter’s wedding, with my old colleague standing next to his wife, son and daughter-in-law. Picture perfect.
The only problem: His story isn’t picture perfect. When he and I first met, we worked in the same division at an insurance company. Right before the division was closed down, I transferred to a different department. Eventually,

MORGAN HOUSEL, author of The Psychology of Money, once made this observation: “Before the 1700s, the richest members of society had among the shortest lives—meaningfully below that of the overall population.”
It was counterintuitive, but Housel cited a hypothesis, developed by historian T.H. Hollingsworth, to make sense of it: “The best explanation is that the rich were the only ones who could afford all the quack medicines and sham doctors who peddled hope but increased your odds of being poisoned.”
Housel then added this thought: “I would bet good money the same happens today with investing advice.” Wealthy folks,

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.

IT’S THAT TIME OF year when people think about giving. For my wife, this is what she lives for. She loves buying presents. She’s a very giving person and puts a great deal of thought into the gifts she buys.
She’ll buy gifts all year round, even when the event—such as Christmas—is months away. Problem is, she frequently forgets where she’s stored the presents she’s bought. They’ll eventually be found, but in many cases long past the date when she wanted to give them.

“YOU WILL ROTH!”
“But Dad, I’m only 10.”
“Evan, it is never too early to start saving. Besides, this gives you 70-plus years of compounding.”
“Yes, Dad, but didn’t you tell me last week that I need a job and earned income to contribute to a Roth?”
“We can arrange to get you a paycheck. I’ll get a friend or neighbor to hire you. What would you like to do?”
“I like to play soccer.”
“Evan,

I FEEL GRATITUDE for the life I’ve had. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few regrets: Friendships that turned sour or simply faded away. People who died before I got to see them one last time. Professional endeavors where I felt I could have done better. Purchases I made that didn’t live up to my expectations.
But my list of regrets has three glaring omissions.
First, it doesn’t include any of the investments I’ve made.

BENJAMIN GRAHAM, the father of investment analysis, made this observation: “The investor’s chief problem—even his worst enemy—is likely to be himself.”
Why? One reason is our intuition can sometimes lead us astray. Things that seem like they make sense, and seem like they ought to be true, often turn out not to be supported by the data.
Perhaps the best-known example is the divergence between growth and value stocks. Intuition suggests that growth stocks—companies like Apple and Amazon—would deliver better performance than their more pedestrian peers on the value side of the market.

IT’S AN ARGUMENT I’ll never win. But perhaps I can sow a few seeds of doubt.
The anti-foreign-stock drumbeat has grown louder with each additional year that international markets underperform U.S. shares. Indeed, even though foreign stocks beat U.S. shares in the 1970s, 1980s and 2000s, there are folks today who argue there’s no reason to own foreign shares.
Really? Before you throw in the towel, ask yourself six questions:
1. If U.S.