Author: Mr. Cheap

When I was working on my undergrad degree a friend told me that his parents had always said to him “You can be a butcher, baker or candlestick maker as long as you’re the BEST butcher baker or candlestick maker you can be”. At the time I thought it was heady, open-minded, inspirational stuff. In the years since then, I’ve come to view it as idealistic, vague nonsense.

With the Olympics occurring in Vancouver, Canada we’re being given the chance to see the best in the world of a variety of activities such as hockey, skiing, or skating. When the Canadian Women’s Hockey team’s 21 members hit the ice, are they REALLY the absolute best 21 women hockey players in the country?  Is there any chance that someone who would have made the team got injured or had a non-hockey commitment and couldn’t be a part of it?  Are all 21 members definitely and absolutely better than the first alternate player (do we have that much faith in the coach’s ability to appraise their ability?).  Might one of the 21 members be a worse player than the first alternative, but just fit better as a teammate for the other 20 women?

Similarly, when someone doesn’t get a job they applied for (and another candidate is hired), can it be absolutely said that the person who was hired was “better”?  Does ANYONE have that much faith in the hiring process?

I was at a bar with friends recently and one of the guys ordered a double shot of their most expensive scotch.  When I started talking scotch to him, it became quite apparent that he didn’t know a thing about single-malts (and probably would have been just as happy with a double shot of Johnnie Walker Red Label).  Heck, the guy chased it with a bottle of Corona!  With a slice of lime!!!  When I asked him why he’d bought the most expensive scotch, his only justifications was “it was the most expensive, so that makes it the best!”  For non-scotch drinkers, many of the more expensive scotches have extreme tastes (like smokey, peaty or iodinie).  It is certainly NOT the case that everyone will find these tastier than the cheaper options.

So, given that the meaning of “best” is nebulous, is the pursuit of some personal definition of it still worthwhile?  I’d still say no.

Do I want people to be proficient at their chosen occupation?  You bet your ass I do!  I don’t want to get sick from eating bad meat or rotten bread (or, I guess, buy defective candlesticks?).  Do I need the BEST meat, bread or candlesticks in the world?  Naw, not really.  In the book review of Better I did in October, I felt one of the weakness was that the author didn’t address the cost of the continual improvement he advocated.

Are there times, say with an Einstein or a Shakespeare, where the world benefits from a genius who focuses themselves on a tight domain of human activity and changes the course of history?  Of course!  Is it worthwhile for the person themselves?  That I’m not so sure about.  In an amazing  1986 talk by Richard Hamming he says that doing Nobel-Prize work is better than “wine, women and song” put together.  He also admits to neglecting his wife while in pursuit of this work.  Is the compromise worthwhile?  Are his accomplishments REALLY better than wine, women and song, or is that what he has to tell himself to justify what he’s sacrificed?

Jumping back to the butcher, say I’m setting out to be the best butcher I can be.  Obviously I’d learnt the practical skills of running a butcher shop (inspecting meat, cutting to specification, running a business, food safety, etc, etc, etc).  Once I’m a competent butcher, I need to develop an obsessive interest in butchering to continue getting “better” (in pursuit of the elusive “best that I can be”).  When my wife wants to do an eco-tour of Costa Rica for our holiday, I’ll have to over-rule her and instead take her to Hy?go Prefecture, Japan to learn about Kobe Beef.  If my friends want to go out for beers (and to buy the most expensive scotches available), I’ll have to decline as I study up on identification of parasites in pork.  Rather than watch my daughter’s dance recital, I’ll be taking classes on exotic marinades for gamefowl.

Are these compromises really desirable in pursuit of becoming the best?  And can someone possibly be considered the best of something if they put family and friends (or other interest) ahead of the pursuit of their field of excellence?

As a computer scientist, I’m inherently a 2nd rate mathematician and scientist (we’re a lazy mixture of both).  I’m not a particularly good computer scientist, so it’s probably generous to consider me third rate at either.  I could, with a focus of attention, be a dramatically better writer, blogger, teacher, researcher, friend, son, brother, boyfriend, employee, entrepreneur, investor or programmer.  If I tried to be massively better in one of these areas, the others would all suffer.

Instead,  I settle on doing an ok job in each.

Is there something you try to be the best (or your best) at?  What are some of the costs of that pursuit and do you ever question the value?

We’re coming up on Valentine’s Day, when the young (and old) hearts and thoughts take a romantic turn. In this spirit, my posts up to today involved love and personal finance.  I invited fellow bloggers to join in on the fun and send me their links, but sadly I only got one blogger to take me up on it (you’re all a bunch of heartless cupid-scrooges 😉 ).  Fortunately, MapleMoney (the blogger who took me up on it) did an excellent post, True or False: Compatibility = Similarity, about compatibility with your partner.

I actually found out about this a little while ago, but have been saving it as the crescendo of the Valentines day posts.  I’M GETTING A BOOK PUBLISHED!!! (can you feel the excitement?!? 🙂 🙂 🙂 ).  I had the idea some time ago when the mother of an ex-girlfriend told me she liked reading historical romances because “she liked to learn something while she was reading a romance”.  I contacted the good people at Harlequin and explained my idea of a romance novel that incorporates personal finance concepts.  They were skeptical at first, but admitted that there is more curiosity about the sub-prime meltdown and general financial topics among their readership than before the recession started and they decided to take a chance on me.

Supposedly the book will be available at finer newsstands and drug stores in July or August, but we’ll definitely get some here at Four Pillars for readers who don’t want to track them down (and I can write a smutty inscription at the front for anyone who buys through us 😉 ).  I’d like to give a heartfelt shout-out to Squawkfox who encouraged me to write a book and to my off-line friends and regular readers.  I feel a little bad about my review of Jon Chevreau’s book now, as I’ve experienced how hard it is to inter-weave financial topics with a “classic fiction structure”.

I asked for permission to post an excerpt, and although the publisher initially resisted, I talked them into letting me post the first few pages (they insisted I use the unedited, draft version I submitted to them – something about copyright, so blame any typos and awkward phrasings on me).  My editor, Carolyn, is amazing (a class act all the way) and after she re-wrote a good part of Chapter 7 I realized she has the filthiest mind of anyone I’ve ever met (which I mean in the best possible way 🙂 ).  I *still* turn beat red whenever I read it…

—

“So that’s it, it’s over once again?” she asked, her tone casual, almost like she was inquiring if there was any further discount possible on the floor model from a sales manager.  She propped herself up on one elbow and stared intently at the man in the doorway.  Her womanly curves were hugged by the off-brand Egyptian cotton sheets.

The passion she never failed to ignite, tinged with anger shone from his eyes as he turned to face her.  Like getting an unexpected margin call, he visibly steeled himself to deal with the conflict he’d hoped to avoid.

“You’re an active trader and I’m a passive man, we’ve been through this before” he began, warming up to his now familiar tirade about the dangers of trying to beat the market.  “You can’t stop yourself from taking insane gambles on companies on the verge of bankruptcy.  You thought I wouldn’t find out that you’d lost our downpayment -“

He was cut short as she slipped out of bed, looking deeply into his icy blue eyes as the sheet fell away from her body.  She was every inch a woman, oozing sexuality and fiscal responsibility as she advanced on him, her naked body indifferent to the open doorway behind him.

“Sometimes you make money and sometimes you lose it” she began matching her familiar refrain to his chorus.  “Reward goes hand-in-hand with risk.  Judge me by my whole record, not the most recent trade” she defiantly challenged as she closed on him, pulling him into her embrace with a swift tug on his wool coat’s collar.  She got a mischievous look on her face as she continued “Besides, you always talk about renting being a better option than owning.”  His resolve broke, like an increasing stock price smashing through a resistance trend line and they pressed into one another.

“Oooh” she purred moistly into his ear, running her fingers through his short cropped hair “I can feel that interest rates are rising.”

“The bed wants us to forget about all this and get back to discussing mergers and acquisitions.”

With an irresistible force, like an overvalued real estate market crashing back to fundamental value, he pressed her against the wall and his mouth hungrily met hers.  Pinning her arms above her head, his animalistic hunger exploded as they explored one another’s mouths.  His teeth caught her lower lip and held it with the precise pressure that ignited her like investor greed in a market bubble.  She heard his sharp intake of breath as he greedily sucked in her scent like a gold bug buying yellow rocks in an inflationary environment.

“There is no more ‘us’ Desdemona” he said coldly, his voice matching his eyes, and was gone.

We’re coming up on Valentine’s Day, when the young (and old) hearts and thoughts take a romantic turn. In this spirit, my posts for this week and next will all involve love and personal finance. If any other bloggers want to join in on the fun, please send me a link to your post at cheapcanuck@gmail.com and I’d be happy to profile what you’ve written.

As I alluded to in my economics of dating post, I have an approach to dating that I’ve used and have recommended to friends which I think would be useful to many people who are unhappily single.  To be completely upfront, I’ve never been married (and have only lived with one woman for a brief period of time).  However, I’ve dated a reasonably large number of woman (enough that I’m not sure the exact count at this point) and have had a few women who would have been willing to marry me, so I stand behind this.

For anyone who questions if dating advice belongs on a personal finance blog, who we marry (and whether we stay married to them or not) MASSIVELY affects our financial situation.  Along with career choice and spending habits, our partner is probably one of the biggest determining factors in personal finance.

The first element of this is that the date-seeker needs to get rid of any idea of “soul mates” or “their type”.  I suspect that over the course of a lifetime we all meet 100-200 people we could probably have a reasonably happy life with.  It’s ok to find some characteristics attractive (personally I really like redheads – yum!), but if you become fixated on something as an absolute requirement, and there aren’t many people who fulfill your requirement, you’re setting yourself up to be alone.

As an example, many woman want a guy who is taller than them, earns more money than them and has nice hair).  That’s great unless you’re a tall, successful woman and you’re competing with similar women for the same small pool of guys.  If a guy’s only demand is that the women he dates be swimsuit models, he’s got some long, lonely nights ahead of him.

Some people say “be picky, you’re worth it!”  If someone wants to be dating and they aren’t, then they’re being too picky.  Of course, if someone would rather be alone than compromise, that’s totally cool but they need to own that decision (they’ve chosen to be alone:  no complaining 🙂 ).

The second element that needs to be jettisoned is the idea that singles can sit back and wait to run into Mr. or Mrs. Right.  They can’t.  All sorts of people never get married and they cop out later in life with the lame excuse “I just never met the right person”.  Bullshit.  They needed to go out and find the right person (and instead, unwisely, chose not to).

Once these two ideas have been abandoned, the date seeker just needs to find enough prospects to ask out in order to find enough people to date seriously in order to find someone to propose to who’ll say yes and get married to them (it’s as easy as that!).  Think of it as a pyramid or a weeding out process where the most important part is the number of prospects (there needs to be enough of them to find that special someone).

I once read about a psychologist who got tired of his clients saying “no one will date me” and he ran an “experiment” where he would walk up to women and ask them if they’d go out on a date with him (no cheesy lines or anything, just walk up and ask).  It took him 50 tries, but eventually someone said yes.  I don’t know how good (or bad) looking he was, but I think this would probably be true for anyone (eventually someone will say yes).

Fortunately, technology makes things even easier.  Sign up for Match.com, eHarmony, OkCupid and Plenty Of Fish and send messages to 3 people a day.  That’s 21 people a week or about 90 a month.  Push through the pain of rejection or fear and eventually there will be dating.  Say 1 in 10 people messaged on OkCupid will respond and meet for coffee, 1 in 10 people met for coffee will go on a second date, and 1 in 5 of these people dated a second time becomes a serious relationship leading to marriage.  This implies 500 people need to be messaged to find true love.

I’m somewhat (not completely) sympathetic to women who aren’t willing to ask men out or initiate contact on dating sites (so women can lead G8 countries, but can’t ask a man out on a coffee date?  RIIIGGGHHHTTT).  If someone decides they aren’t going to do the asking out, they have an obligation to make it very clear that they’re available, single, and likely to say yes.  I’m not sure the exact mechanics of this (I’d appreciate any women who can make suggestions in the comments), but the nearest I’ve figured it out is that it involves smiling a lot and working into the conversation that she’s single (“well, as a single woman who isn’t seeing anyone right now, I have a particular interest in whether or not Greece is on the verge of bankruptcy…”).

For guys who think they’ll be destroyed (DESTROYED!) by a woman saying no to them:  you won’t be.  Man up!

If you’re married or in a relationship, what’s your favourite piece of dating advice?  If you’re (unhappily) single what’s been preventing you from finding someone?

Two of my friends have radically different views on dating, both of which amuse me to no end.  I’d like to make clear that I don’t condone their behaviours (although I find it very entertaining).   As Miss Manners has said:  “Shunning scoundrels is one of society’s dues, sadly neglected by those who refuse to pass judgement, and may also have discovered that scoundrels sometimes make lively companions”.  To “set the stage”, each of my friends was unhappily single when I started my PhD, and thanks, in part, to some of my advice (which will form a post next week), both are now REASONABLY happy in relationships.  Neither was raised in Canada (and neither spoke English as their first language) and both are in doctoral programs (they aren’t dummies).

XY

XY took to dating like a kid in a candy store.  I was happy for him when he was seeing a number of women and finally seemed to settle on one he liked.  I was taken aback one day when he told me he had been keeping a spreadsheet of everything he spent on them.  The breakdown was interesting (he only counted half the meals, because he “had to eat too and enjoyed them”, but would count gas driving to meet them – I asked if he factored in maintenance or wear-and-tear on the car, and he did not).  What became VERY interesting is he’d calculate the ratio of money spent to sexual encounters obtained (in my first draft I called this “kisses” euphemistically and counted on  “men of the world” to be able to read between the lines:  there are at least two grandmothers who read the blog somewhat regularly and I was worried the post was getting crass – Mike encouraged me to tell it like it is, so there you go).

Beyond reducing the ratio as low as possible, he had wild dreams of getting his number to $0, or possibly into the negatives (where the woman would have spent more money on him than he had on her).  We’re both pretty frugal, so he’d sometimes accuse me of approaching dating in a similar manner, which I always denied.  I repeatedly told him that my view of dating is quality over quantity.  Spend time with someone you really care about and forget about the expense, instead of going after a number of people you don’t like very much and keeping costs low.

Clearly Nemesis had her way as XY is now dating (and planning to move in with) a woman he’s head-over-heels about.  She has confided in me that he treats her better than any guy she’s ever dated and he almost always insists on paying.

XX

Once XX cranked up her dating it seemed like she actually tore through most of the men who fit what she was looking for in the Waterloo area (she’s since expanded her hunting grounds to Toronto).  She has always been a bit of a mooch (trying to get friends to buy her drinks or food – she’ll go as far as order nothing but water in a restaurant if no one will buy anything for her), but she expanded this to an art form when dating.  After each date, she’d brag to us how much she’d managed to get the guy to spend and how little physical affection she had to provide.  I think her high point was $120 and she gave him a hug at the end of the night.

Her grandest adventure, which XY and I are still in awe of, is that when the relationship ended, the first guy she ever had sex with gave her $10K “for her virginity”.  $10,000!!!  I had trouble GIVING away my virginity…  Just to clarify, it wasn’t like she sold it on E*Bay or a street corner, this was a long term boyfriend who felt the need to “cash out” for past sins as they were breaking up.

After her recent birthday, she went out the next day to try to return each of the gifts she’d received (which filled me with glee as I’d written an inscription in the book I’d given her for her birthday years ago, thus preventing its return – Mwa ha ha ha).

Again, Nemesis has struck and she’s now dating a fellow poor grad student (and gripes regularly about how much it kills her to pay for her own food when they go out).

In Conclusion

XY and XX are two real people (who hopefully never discover this blog).  It isn’t my intention to draw any parallels between their experiences and broader gender stereotypes, I just wanted to share my amusement at how they approach romance.  I thought at one point that they might actually start dating EACH OTHER (and worried that the world would be destroyed in a massive anti-matter explosion if that ever occurred).  They’re room-mates now (in a big house with other people) and seem to get along surprisingly well living in the same place.

Do you have any friends (or personal experiences) with weird interactions between money and dating?

As I mentioned at the beginning of my Buffy personal finance post, I really don’t like “according to” posts. Nevertheless, after a recent viewing of this film a post kept bouncing around in my head, demanding to be written…

Sorry to people (like me!) who find these aggravating.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High was based on a book written by Cameron Crowe about his experience pretending to be a student at a California high school (as a very youthful looking 22-year old Rolling Stone writer). A number of the actors went on to distinguished careers, including Sean Pean, Forest Whitaker and a briefly seen Nicolas Cage.

Without much of a plot beyond a snapshot of Californian teenage life at the time, the experiences of the main characters nevertheless highlight a number of personal finance (and life) issues.

Charles Jefferson

Presented as the aloof high school sport star, Charles presents the experience of individuals who luck into wealth.  It can be an inheritance, fortunate events, lottery winnings, or (as is the case here) happening to be good at something that society is willing to pay a high premium for (i.e. football).  Not even out of high school, an admirer has bought Charles a sports car, representing the easy-money he will make based on his athletic ability.  Also foreshadowing the life he will live, he’s very rude and aggressive to Mikey when he’s greeted socially, then later (when he needs something from Mikey) is willing to be more social.  Already his status is separating him from his community and his peers and hinting at a lonely life down the road.

After his younger brother and Spicoli steal and destroy his beloved car, they easily trick him into believing it was a school rivalry prank.  This foreshadows how he (like so many other sports stars) will be manipulated in the future and makes me wonder how long it will take before “investment councillors” bleed him dry of any money he makes.

Jeff Spicoli

Spreading his time equally between getting high and avoiding responsibility, Spicoli paints a picture of those who peak early. While having fun and being popular in high school, it’s tough imagining that he’ll amount to anything (even his fantasies of becoming famous as a surfer seem ludicrous). Unwilling to do even the barest minimum effort (like show up to class on time or not drive a sports car while drunk and stoned) Spicoli is the student destined to fail. He and a strict teacher Mr. Hand go head-to-head, with Spicoli losing at every turn and leaving the viewer to wonder why everyone hasn’t given up on the train wreck. The message is beaten home at the end of the movie where it is revealed that Spicoli was given $25K for saving a drowning Brooke Shields (and promptly spent it hiring Van Halen to play his birthday party).

Mikey Damone

Mikey is the unethical entrepreneur, enthusiastically embracing a used car dealer persona as he tries to turn a buck scalping tickets. Although he projects a confident, suave demeanour, as the film proceeds this front breaks down after he betrays his best friend and treats Stacy very shabbily (he stands her up after agreeing to contribute $75 and a ride to the clinic to abort the child he fathered). His betrayal is slightly coloured by viewers’ knowledge that he has more difficulty coming up with the money than he lets on, but regardless his behaviour is inexcusable.

Much like Mikey, many people choose to make money in shady ways (and often don’t even earn much of a premium for their ethical compromises). “Keeping up with the Jones” is alive and well, where we try to project an image that we just can’t live up to. Mikey isn’t representative of all entrepreneurs (my feeling is that as a whole, entrepreneurs are probably MORE ethical than average), but he does paint a vived portrait of some of the group’s sleazier members.

Brad Hamilton

At first Brad seems to be an example of the hard-working everyman. Devoted to the job and in a leadership position at the burger joint he works at, he’s got an attractive girlfriend, other students ask him to help them find jobs and he debates whether he should break up with his girlfriend to have more fun with other girls in his senior year. All this comes crumbling down after he gets into a dispute with an obnoxious customer, gets fired, loses his girlfriend, then repeats this pattern at another fast food restaurant (this time in a pirate costume). In the final scenes of the movie we’re told he peaks as the manager at a convenience store (after he stopped a robbery).

Much like Brad, there seem to be people who do 99% of their lives right, and then just can’t seem to help themselves but tear it all down. It could be cursing out the boss at work, developing a drug, drinking or gambling problem, or even some strange criminal behaviour that only comes out on the night of a full moon. A friend’s brother recently broke up with his financé after she disappeared for a weekend and drained their joint checking account of $10,000 at the casino. In contrast to the Spicolis of the world, the Brads break your heart, as you can’t help but say “if only…”. As is made clear from the pattern he is already establishing, he’s driving himself to ruin just as inevitably as  Spicoli, he’s only taking a more scenic route.

Stacy Hamilton

Stacy, the sexually curious 15 year old, is the unlikely hero in the movie. She follows the advice of a friend who the viewers are left wondering whether or not she has had the experiences she claims to, is treated badly by all three men she connects with over the course of the movie, gets pregnant and goes through an abortion on her own. In spite of this, she stays true to what she’s after (gaining sexual knowledge and romantically connecting with someone) and it’s tough to fault her approach as she gathers information from friends and throws herself earnestly and wholeheartedly into her attempts. At the end of the movie we’re told that she’s now involved in a passionate love affair.

If someone was going to start a business, they could do a lot worse than imitate Stacy. She’s passionate, does her research, doesn’t give up or become jaded and keeps giving people a chance to be decent human beings to her. Her approach would also be effective on the path to getting the credentials of a difficult-to-achieve occupation (such as a doctor, lawyer, or clinical psychologist), launching an organization aimed at a charitable or political cause or even on some personal fulfilment path (such as being an author or artist).

In summary, Stacy, I salute you!  I’m sure the young woman your character is based on has had a wonderful life and I hope you left those goofballs surrounding you in high school and never looked back.

I am the champion – my friends
<cue power cords>
And I kept on fighting – till the end –
<cue power cords>
I am the champion –
I am the champion
No time for losers
‘Cause Mr. Cheap is the champion – of the blogosphere –

After my post on Tuesday, Mike promptly left a couple of comments to the effect that he “didn’t buy it”.  Never one to agree-to-disagree, I proposed a wager, and after we hammered out the details I set about winning it.  It’s been said that academic politics are particularly vicious because the stakes are so small.  With the the stakes being a beer in this case, I set out to be as vicious as possible. 🙂

While I was confident truth, justice and the Canadian way were on my side, I did realize that I needed to reach a critical mass of readers to allow the necessary comment to be made (and truth emerge).  Much like Commissioner Gordon flashing the bat signal into the sky, I raised the alarm, e-mailing numerous PF bloggers from Canada and abroad that they were needed!  Telling them:

“If you have done something like this, please comment!  If you know someone who has done something like this, please forward this to them!  If you can publicize this in any way (tweet, blog post, forum post, whatever), please do!”

Sensing the desperation of a situation where Mr. Cheap may have to buy a beer for Mike, our community sprang into action!  (it brings a tear to my eye just thinking of it).  Reactions ranged from polite neutrality to questioning whether arguing about this was really the best use of our limited time on this planet (for the record, yes it is).  Unbelievably, one particularly blogger had the GALL (note correct spelling 😉 ) to throw his support behind Mike.  MIKE!!!  I shake my fist in the general direction of Ottawa.  I even sent a message off to Mrs. Pillars, trying to convince her to turn on her husband (wisely, she ignored me).

By 5:49 pm a calm settled onto the electronic battlefield.  I now know what veterans describe where, in the chaos of combat a hush falls.  I had at no point doubted myself (NEVER!) but the thought had crossed my mind that the needed comment might not arrive in time.  If it arrived at 10:01 am, all would be lost and I’d be out a beer.  I refused to lose faith in our community, which clearly needed to make the right choice and agree with me.  All that was needed was for one person to arrive and say “yes, ye gods, Mr. Cheap is right!”  And cutting through the electrons of our virtual community such a person arrived.

I’m not saying she came on a winged horse or carried a spear.  It’s certainly not my assertion that the shimmering haze rescinded a little as she appeared into the chaos, bringing a shining light of truth.  Maybe she wasn’t there to decide which warrior was to die, or to carry anyone off to their eternal reward in the afterlife.  There certainly was the aura of an epic hero about Melanie however.  With her title,the reformed spender, she is upfront that in her past hasn’t always been as noble as she is today.  Maybe, like Yin and Yang she needs her past failings to be the unwavering beacon of good she is today.  Regardless of where she came from, or where she was going, she surveyed the carnage and pronounced:

With that she departed and Mike yielded.  Perhaps she went back to Newfoundland, perhaps back to the halls of the Valkyrie, perhaps we’ll never know.  Wherever you are Melanie, know that I’ll be thinking of you as I sip every extra-sweet sip of my beer of victory…

For those who read through this post and are thinking “geez, Mr. Cheap is an unpleasant winner”, it should be noted that I’m a pretty sore loser too.