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,

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.

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.

FOUR 20-SOMETHINGS named Ben, Duncan, Jonnie and Dave came up with a great idea for a reality show in 2010. It involved a purple bus named Penelope, a cross-country road trip and a list of 100 things to do before you die. For every item they crossed off their list, they’d help a stranger achieve something on his or her own list. 
Some of their to-dos were ambitious, with a low probability of success: host Saturday Night Live,

I DON’T LIKE SPENDING, though the older I get, the more I loosen the purse strings. Still, I rarely enjoy spending money. I think I got this from my mother and grandparents.

My grandparents reused Christmas tree tinsel year after year. My grandfather removed every strand—made of metal back then—and placed it in a box for the following year. My grandparents also had two sets of rugs, one for winter and the other—made of woven rattan—for summer.

I LOVE TO TRAVEL—and it runs in the family. My parents were avid travelers, with my father receiving a generous travel allowance from his work every four years.
In addition, my father always managed his time and budget for numerous other trips. After his passing, my brother and I took turns maintaining the travel tradition with our mom, until plans were disrupted by the pandemic.
After retiring this year, I eagerly anticipated visiting my mother in India and taking her on a grand tour.

ON TELEVISION, I WATCH the Barrett-Jackson auctions of expensive cars. When two bidders want the same car, they drive up the price until one decides enough is enough and drops out.
Why is this car so important to the bidders? In many cases, it’s a well-known car that’s highly valued by car collectors, so it’s treated like an investment with lasting value. Other times, it could be a model that the bidders had admired as teenagers,

I WAS INTRIGUED WHEN an old Dutch painting attributed to a “follower of Rembrandt” came up for auction near me in Maine late last month. It was a portrait of a young woman wearing an elaborately starched ruff collar, the type of clothing depicted in Golden Age paintings from the 1600s.
The country auction house estimated the painting would fetch $10,000 to $15,000. I couldn’t shake the thought—however fleeting—that this might be the real thing.

THESE DAYS, IT SEEMS every other article on retirement talks about a neat division between the go-go, slow-go and no-go years, with retirees moving seamlessly from one to the next.

I don’t remember seeing anything about these stages back in the late 1990s when I was contemplating early retirement. Instead, when I quit full-time work in 2000 at age 53, I just wanted to travel before I got too decrepit.

I did travel—extensively—right up until 2017,

HOW DO YOU DECIDE whether to go with good, better or best?
My next-door neighbor always goes for the best, regardless of what it is. He pays more for everything. He’s a senior vice president, and I guess he feels he needs or deserves the best. God bless him.
That’s not my approach. I recently replaced my gas furnace and central air conditioner. My furnace was 23 years old and my air conditioner 10.

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,

THE OTHER DAY, WHEN my son and I were out on our daily trash pickup walk, I found a $5 bill. No one was around, so I didn’t know who dropped it. It was just lying there.
I picked it up and put it in my wallet with all my other “pocket money.” This is money I use whenever credit cards aren’t allowed. The $5 bill slipped in next to the other $5 bills.

IN AN EARLIER ARTICLE, I detailed how Charter Communications wasn’t so much my internet provider as my extortionist. I thought I’d dealt with it all in an equitable manner. But then, exactly two years after our relationship began, Spectrum abruptly increased the price it charged for internet access by 67%, from $29.99 a month to $49.99. I guess we didn’t have a relationship so much as a contract.
While I didn’t take too kindly to that,

AS WE GET OLDER, some of us have less patience and complain more. Maybe it’s because we’re frustrated. Many everyday activities become more difficult to perform as we age. As a 73-year-old, I probably have a shorter fuse when dealing with life’s daily hassles.
My friend Bill might also fall into the cranky category. He was complaining about how terrible customer service has become since the pandemic. “Prices keep rising, but we keep getting less in return,” he ranted.