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Within a ten-minute walk of my vacation home there’s a lovely nine-hole golf course, its main lateral hazard being the river made famous as the source of water for Bushmills Irish whiskey. I haven’t lost a ball to the River Bush since I retired. That isn’t because I’ve gotten any better at golf. It’s because I’ve recently realized I haven’t played the course since losing my regular wage after retirement.
Instead, I’ve subconsciously started playing a nine-hole links course twenty minutes’ drive away. The only explanation I can come up with is that my mind has nudged me toward this new “regular” course because it’s half the price for a round. I’ve been hoodwinked by my own frugal mind, and I didn’t even notice it happening.
It isn’t just golf, either. Once I started looking, I noticed Suzie and I had become regulars at the various restaurant brands run by my daughter’s employer—establishments we barely used to visit before retirement.The reason took no digging at all: the family discount is 50%. Same story, different setting.
Nobody decided anything out loud. My spending had simply found the cheapest respectable version of the thing I wanted, and my conscious mind was the last to hear about it. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what’s happened. A frugal instinct kicking in unconsciously is, in its own way, just a sensible mind adapting sensibly to a new stage of life.
But once I spotted the pattern, I started seeing it everywhere. It’s made me ask myself a question. How much of my retirement is now being shaped by discounts and half-prices I never consciously chose, rather than by what I’d actually pick if money wasn’t whispering in my ear?
Now that I’ve noticed, I think it’s about time I changed things up. My next round of golf is going to be the more expensive river course, and I’ll take a meal at its nineteenth hole, probably a 16oz steak. Be damned the cost of the food or the half-dozen balls I’ll probably lose to the river.
Although, there’s a slight wrinkle in my plan. Somewhere along the way, I’ve actually grown to enjoy the challenge of the links course. So, I can’t honestly say I’m rescuing my “true” preferences from the clutches of my frugal subconscious.
Which leaves me wondering: has retirement rewritten any of your habits without asking your permission first? And if you’ve caught it happening, did you correct course, or decide the cheaper version was the one you actually preferred all along?
Two observations Mark. The feeling subsides the longer you are retired. I felt it in the beginning, but now I just don’t care.
But there is another secret I use. Buckets of money. We used multiple bank accounts each with a dedicated purpose and for no other reason. One purpose is designated “travel” but since that is now limited it has broader use like spending during our time on the Cape with family and dining out. There is no anxiety when the money comes from that account.
Connie has her own checking account with a monthly allocation from my pension so how she spends it is not questioned.
Another account is simply ongoing monthly bills, property taxes and miscellaneous. Monthly end credit card bills are paid from this account.
The point is how we will pay for spending, including golf, is known before we spend it. So no guilt.
The key though is that we know exactly how much our income will be each month and where it will be allocated. Our bank moves the money around at the beginning of each month.
Richard, believe it or not, I use a very similar system. One account for recurring bills, another for big-ticket items, and a third for personal spending. I even have dedicated monthly income from annuities coming in. Of course, my subconscious blithely ignores this wonderfully constructed setup—but as you say, hopefully time will do its job and this new reality will eventually sink in.
Technically, wouldn’t it be the tenth hole at this course? 🙂
Joe, that’s a very good point—and you made me smile. It conjured up an image of a grill and a keg of beer sitting on the 10th green. In reality, it’s an 18-hole course; the back nine uses the same fairways, just with separate tee boxes. I normally only play the first nine—I never bring enough balls to last through 18 😉
I applaud the cost-effectiveness of the course’s double-nine concept! … One reason I stopped even my rare rounds decades ago was that I had spent too much time searching in vain for the balls I sprayed all over the hilly courses.
Mark, wow, I resemble your remarks, as well as elements in both Dana and BB’s posts below. So I’m just going to add my thoughts regarding expensive restaurants. I avoid them as often as I possibly can. Sure, I rather dislike a tab that runs into the hundreds of dollars, but what I really hate is when I’m lying in bed afterwards, with acid reflux brought on by multiple courses of delicious food and several glasses of pricey wine, overpowering my Omeprazole, causing me to question why anyone would spend so much to feel so lousy.
Dan, I’m fortunate to have a stomach made of iron—I’ve never so much as had indigestion in my life. Suzie, unfortunately, is the complete opposite, especially over the last few years. So last week, I was despatched to the pharmacy for Omeprazole, and I was genuinely devastated when they were out of the generic. I had to pay double for the name-brand stuff.
I’m not recommending this to anyone, but I’ve been mixing 1/2tsp baking soda with 8oz of water for many years. The acid reflux will be gone quickly…very quickly.
How old are you? Just wait, you have time.
I’m 72 and still have a cast iron stomach. I eat anything and everything, the hotter and spicier the better. I take after my mom who was like that into her 80’s. My wife is the complete opposite. She indulges my adventurous palate and can usually find something edible.
At 59, I’m still a spring chicken. I’m keeping everything crossed that I inherited my mum’s cast-iron stomach (that woman could eat nails and ask for dessert). My dad, however, treated antacid tablets like they were breath mints; he wouldn’t so much as pop to the shops without a pack rattling in his pocket.
Don’t you know seniors dine at 4:30 to avoid that … or have a bottle of Tums on the nightstand😀
I’ve also been shifting toward frugality, and it’s more conscious than not. It’s not because of my own retirement in that my take-home pension income is higher than my take-home pay was (I had a lot of voluntary and involuntary deductions). It’s because my husband is planning to reduce to 50% time a couple of months from now AND we made a home purchase that added both current new expenses (an upcoming renovation, moving expenses) and ongoing ones.
I’ve been way more intentional about things like using points and miles for flights and hotels rather than paying cash for a nicer hotel. So we’re staying at more mid-range places than luxury ones, but whatever—as long as there’s a bed and a shower, you have what you need, right? Anyway, I’ve definitely noticed a shift in my thinking about how I/we spend money. I’ve always leaned frugal, and my husband would say “we can afford it.” Now he’s more receptive to my thoughts about being prudent with our spending because of our recent choices.
Could we keep spending in a (relatively) more profligate manner? Perhaps. But I’m not comfortable cutting things too close. You never know what’s around the corner.
Dana, we’re in a similar boat financially. I actually have just as much income in retirement as I did when I was working—and if you toss in the proceeds from selling my business, my cash reserves are deeper than ever.
But my subconscious refuses to accept that reality. It insists on its own grim, paranoid version, where I’m 80 years old, living on cold beans, and kicking myself for not being more careful with every dollar I spend today.
It’s interesting that you say it’s retirement and sub-conscious for you.
Maybe that’s a result of having a very packed schedule when you were working and not the asset of time to make the cheaper alternative choices?
I’d guess for many reaching a comfortable level of savings for retirement means having hardwired those more affordable alternatives in many areas of their lives. I’ve done a lot of work with branded consumer products companies and will always buy the store brand where it’s available because I know most of the premium is for the marketing and “name” if I buy the recognised brands. Result = money I have for something else.
Everyone is different. People are social animals and attach status to objects and experiential services. I’d say people who take a Cunard cruise think, in general, they are “classier” than those on a Carnival, whereas the younger demographic on the latter probably think the former is like the waiting lounge for the funeral home.
If you let go of a lot of status attachment then you can be free to make the choices which give you most personal utility whether that’s cheapest, best value, most convenient or a bit challenging but worth it for the experience. I recently went to Hamburg at shortish notice. The risk averse traveller option would be to book a name brand hotel in the centre at whatever the cost and take a taxi directly there. I booked a capsule hotel near to the station that involved walking through a fairly diverse neighbourhood. It gave me a new experience, a greater appreciation of what the city was and a lovely roof terrace for breakfast even if I did have to go down to the basement for an (excellent, clean) shower. Lots of friends I would not recommend it to, but others I would because it would be right up their strasse.
BB, You’ve clearly given this way more thought than I have. I’ve never cared much for prestige or paying top dollar for an experience or a place to stay — and it would seem, retirement has only lowered my standards further, which I didn’t think was possible.
As for cruise lines, I’ve never been on one. Outside of weddings and funerals, I live in shorts and t-shirts year-round. The idea of dressing up for dinner every night on a cruise ship sounds like my own personal purgatory.
Btw, welcome back to the comments section — we kept your seat warm.
I never thought I would be a “cruise person” but in the past couple of years I’ve found them to be a good holiday to take my mother on specifically in places that are more complex to access by other means.
The playing dress-up thing is silly particularly in the context of carrying luggage for an otherwise active and/or warm weather holiday. No judgement for those who like doing it but making it mandatory for everyone seems a 20th century relic. Fortunately it seems rules are relaxing there significantly even if some “traditional cruisers” like to be snobby about it.