I spent most of my early 20s not knowing what I wanted to do with my life – I lost track of how many times I changed my major! After graduating, I moved to Japan and spent a couple of years teaching English and exploring SE Asia. I knew I eventually wanted to go to graduate school, but I also knew that I didn’t want to continue in the field in which I’d (finally) majored. In a twist no one who knew me saw coming,

I worked and earned income from 1963 to 2022. I always saved a portion of my earnings. Some was “parked” in real estate, some in the stock market, some in bonds and some in a traditional savings account.
Every dollar I saved represented many hours of true labor. Some was as a business owner, some as an engineer, some was “sweat equity” in my homes and RVs, and some labor was expended by maintaining a commercial property.

We often read those poignant articles about never truly knowing when we’re experiencing something for the very last time—that final hug, or the last time we carry our child. A bit sad, I tend to skip them. But I’ve been thinking from the opposite viewpoint: those “OMG, thank goodness I don’t have to do that again!” moments.
As a recent retiree, I can easily recall a few such glorious moments. Early starts, for instance, never bothered me much at the time,

Who doesn’t like to give advice and these days and I would have Gemini and ChatGTP to help.  
To keep it friendly I’m thinking of going by Dear Dickie.
Think of all the good I could do encouraging people to give up their budgets and spreadsheets and aim for 100% base pay replacement in retirement, including use of an immediate annuity, dividends and interest. I’d tell them to make sure they leave a modest legacy if possible,

After nearly a four decade career, I sometimes wonder how I survived many early retirement offers and frequent company downsizing initiatives.  One reason may be that I picked up a lot of career advice from colleagues and bosses along the way. I listened to some, but not all. Here are some:
– My first boss on the first day told me, “Be nice to people on the way up. You need their help on the way down.”
 -Always ask “why”?

I bumped into a friend a few months ago. I knew he’d retired about two years prior, and since I was just on the cusp of doing so, I steered the conversation toward how he was enjoying himself.
As we talked, he revealed he was pretty stressed out and far too busy to enjoy himself. Surprised by this confession, I pressed him for the reason.
It turns out, being good with his hands, he had always fancied having a go at picture framing and purchased some equipment for this endeavor.

Coast Fire by Jason Kitces
Coast Fire sounds like a logical evolution of the FIRE (financial independence-retire early) idea. Not everyone thinks ending work is the greatest idea, but a lot of people might prefer less demanding jobs, such that they can both work and enjoy a lower stress life.
When I look at the technology and tools available to help people organize their personal finance and take over their lives I’m truly envious.

So, we have signed the contracts. We have advised all our staff. We are talking to our customers every day about the sale, about the new owners and how it will be “business as usual”, how they can expect the same service that they have been used to.
We have already received lots of really positive and quite humbling feedback from our customers. Even those that could be challenging at times have been really generous in their praise and thanks.

IN A RECENT INTERVIEW, Dario Amodei, CEO of Anthropic, a leader in artificial intelligence, grabbed headlines. Amodei argued that the next generation of AI systems could replace half of entry-level jobs and drive up the unemployment rate to 20%. All of this could occur in the next five years, he said.
Recent data seem to support these glum predictions. Mark Zuckerberg said AI will be as capable as a mid-level programmer by the end of this year.

It’s a question many of us ponder as we transition into retirement: Beyond the financial aspects, what truly sticks with us from our working lives, and what do we find ourselves missing?
For me, like many others, it’s the daily banter and camaraderie with customers and colleagues. There’s a unique energy in those professional interactions—the quick jokes, shared challenges, and the general buzz of a workplace. It’s a specific kind of social connection that’s surprisingly hard to replicate.

I’m sure that there are several on Humble Dollar who have navigated this path – selling a family business and moving on to whatever is next. We are part way along that journey, and it feels like a good time begin sharing our story.
For some background, we own and operate an automotive workshop in a small country town called Heyfield in Victoria, Australia. My Dad is now a 60 year veteran of the automotive industry,

Regular HumbleDollar readers are likely familiar with my passion for dogs. I adore dogs and find I generally prefer their company to that of many humans. 
Three years ago I retired. I had spent thirty years working in laboratories. I generally enjoyed the work but I was never particularly passionate about it. I spent my weekdays working in order to support my dog hobby on the weekends. 
Right after I retired, my husband and I toyed with the idea of starting a dog training business.

In the personal finance corner of the internet, the conventional wisdom seems to be to work hard, save as much as you can, invest wisely and retire as soon as you can. The FIRE movement takes that further, to an extent that I think many of us find difficult to truly grasp.
And I get it. Retirement, or at least semi-retirement, has lots of attractions. Feeling tired? Sleep a little longer. Find something new and interesting?

Of the things I have learned from HumbleDollar, and more specifically from Jonathan, is that increasing birthrates and immigration alone won’t solve our Social Security and Medicare quandaries. People need to work longer. 
I have pushed back on that idea by pointing out that for many employed in what I call the brutal occupations, working longer is easier said than done. While I stand by that sentiment, I know people who have changed lanes, expanded their wheelhouse and learned some new tricks. 

I’ve been retired from the practice of law since 2017, but I still receive the State Bar of Texas monthly magazine, The Texas Bar Journal. Towards the end of each issue is the Memorials section which contains obits for our fallen brothers and sisters of the bar. (There are a lot more brothers than sisters listed since most of the departed are older types who came of age when there was a much larger skew towards men in the legal profession.)
The obits are brief and contain the basic information such as city of practice,