WE’VE ALL HEARD of the obscure relative—often a long-forgotten uncle or aunt—who leaves behind a surprise inheritance. This usually only happens in fairy tales, trashy novels and screwball comedy movies. I certainly never expected it to happen to me, especially at this late stage. But happen it did—from my lifelong friend Katie, who bequeathed me a generous sum.
I learned I was a beneficiary from the will’s executor and from a subsequent letter from the attorney handling the estate.

SOME YEARS AGO, an elderly neighbor came to our door, asking for a favor. She was looking for packing tape because she’d sold her television and needed to ship it. She went on to say that the buyer, who she’d found on eBay, was in Nigeria. It was, of course, an obvious scam. But for whatever reason, she couldn’t see it.
Today, scams like this are better known and easier to recognize. But what makes online fraud such a problem is that the crooks are always developing new tricks.

I HAVE MY MOTHER to thank for my good savings habits. She opened a savings account in my name when I was a kid. She also made sure I had a Christmas Club savings account every year. I was required to make deposits regularly.
I didn’t mow my neighbor’s lawn, have a newspaper route or sell lemonade on my front lawn. Instead, the money I saved came from the allowance my mother paid me.

I HAVE LONG HELD a grudge against Los Angeles, and not just because they stole the Dodgers from Brooklyn when I was a kid. It’s a city where too much value is placed on how you look, a metric where I don’t score particularly high. By contrast, New York City—my old stomping ground—is principled more on what you know, and on that score I feel I deserve at least a gentleman’s C.
That said,

I WAS A VICTIM OF identity theft. It wasn’t anything I did. Rather, it was what my former employer did.
During the pandemic, many employees were working remotely, including a member of the human resources department. She received an email from the CEO requesting that she send him the W-2s for all employees. So she did. Unfortunately, the email wasn’t from the CEO. It was sent from a shopping mall in Saudi Arabia.
As soon as she hit send,

WHEN I ASKED MY brother what to bring to my newly purchased winter home in Tucson, his response was succinct: “Money. Lots. And extra credit cards.”
The voice of experience, he bought a so-called park unit five years ago before home prices soared, up 47% since early 2020 . My expenses in buying my place—and making it into what I wanted—had me selling beaten-down shares in a total bond fund to refill my cash accounts.

DEATH AND TAXES are inevitable—and, as I keep getting reminded, also inextricably entwined.
I’m not so fortunate that I need worry about federal estate taxes. That privilege belongs to those who die with $13.61 million in 2024. But that doesn’t mean the taxman isn’t hovering over my demise, raising a host of lesser issues.
Paying the piper. Over the past few years, my focus has been on making big Roth conversions while staying within the 24% federal income-tax bracket.

WE MAKE FOREVER PLANS—and often end up shredding them in a few short days.
Think of the folks who hike their portfolio’s allocation to stocks, only to turn tail when the next market downdraft reminds them of their true risk tolerance. Or the families who are forced to move because of a job change, or the arrival of children, or the need to help aging parents. Or me, who thought he might have 30 more years,

DO YOU REMEMBER the headline, “Brooke Astor’s Son Guilty in Scheme to Defraud Her”? He swindled his famous mother out of millions, once by pocketing a $2 million commission on the sale of an Impressionist painting he purloined from her New York City apartment. She lived to age 105 but suffered from dementia.
F. Scott Fitzgerald purportedly said, “The rich are different than you and me.” But maybe not when it comes to elder fraud.

THE CONTROVERSY over student loans has caught up with the latest federal government repayment program. That program is known as SAVE, or Saving on A Valuable Education.
SAVE is an income-driven repayment plan, or IDR. It’s the sixth iteration of an IDR plan. Due to the favorable terms and the high estimated price tag, it was recently halted by legal challenges.
IDR plans follow the same general formula to determine the monthly payment on student loan debt.

WHEN MY SON STARTED graduate school seven years ago, we enticed him to save money by living at home. The catch: He’d need a set of wheels. Lori and I offered to help, provided he was open to a used vehicle. He agreed, and off we went to the nearest Honda dealership.
We were greeted in the parking lot by an enthusiastic salesperson. He invited us inside to chat, and promptly asked us what monthly car payment we were seeking.

WHO HAS TIME TO die? I never realized death would be so busy.
I thought I had my financial affairs in good order. But in the two months since my cancer diagnosis, I’ve made countless financial tweaks, mostly with a view to making things easier after my death for my wife Elaine and my two children.
Here are just some of the steps I’ve taken:

I took my two checking accounts—my personal account and the business account for HumbleDollar—and made Elaine the joint account holder with rights of survivorship.

EXPERTS OFTEN ARGUE that tax-avoidance strategies shouldn’t drive our financial plans, especially as Congress is forever fiddling with the tax rules. And yet many of us end up making decisions based on federal tax policy, which is loaded with incentives designed to change behavior and advance social goals.
That’s certainly true for my wife and me. Despite the tax code’s many provisions—and its 75,000 pages of complexity—four big-picture tax considerations have largely shaped how our financial lives have turned out,

I’M DUMB MONEY, as are all so-called recreational gamblers. That’s why, during the recent basketball playoffs, we sports spectators were bombarded with wildly seductive commercials glamorizing sports betting.
Fortunately, I learned my limits early on. My last notable gamble ended badly more than four decades ago, when some IBM options I bought expired worthless.
But I’ve also come to appreciate that not all individual gamblers are dumb money. I’ve lately been serving as the sounding board for my 36-year-old son Ryan,

IS A 55-PLUS community for you? Do you want to spend your later years surrounded by folks just like yourself—mostly crotchety, demanding old people?
I’m joking, of course. But am I exaggerating?

My wife Connie and I made the move from our New Jersey single-family home to a nearby 55-plus community six years ago. Like the idea of a 55-plus community? Here are some factors to consider.

First, a 55-plus community requires defining. There are several types and sizes,