Wait...Lending Institutions Charge Interest?!

I just watched a video clip from last night’s edition of 60 Minutes, where a young student said that the $76,000 loan she had taken out for her first year year of medical school would wind up costing $100,000 if she paid it back over a ten year period. To this, her interviewer, Leslie Stahl, professed profound astonishment...That’s unfathomable, she gasped.

No, Leslie...that’s called interest. Let me explain the concept to you...

When a consumer borrows money, the lending institution charges you interest. The longer you take to pay the loan back, the more interest you pay. For example, if I were to borrow $250,000 to buy a house, and I was charged 5% interest for a 30 year mortgage, I would end up paying the bank $483,000. If I was appalled at the amount of interest I would pay the bank, I could refinance to a 15 year note and perhaps a better interest rate, say...4.5%. In that case, I would only pay the bank $344,000. However, my monthly payment would be nearly $600 more, so I would have to consider whether or not I could afford it. In either case, there is absolutely nothing unfathomable about it. Borrowing money isn’t free.

Of course, the purpose of the 60 Minutes piece was to bang the drum for some sort of free college tuition scheme to be born by some combination of tax-payer subsidy and/or institutional endowment gift-back. For professions that the government deems to have social benefit, tuition would be free. That’s all well and good, and is a discussion worth having...but, for the love of God, Leslie...don’t get the freaking vapors over as simple a concept as loan interest!!

Later in the piece, we are introduced to another medical school student, who lamented his debt load by observing how much of a better doctor he would become if he didn’t have to pay for his education...For one thing, I wouldn’t have to work while I’m in school, so I could spend more time learning. This is very true. When I look back over the years I have spent paying my mortgage, it boggles the mind to imagine how much better a financial advisor I would have been if I didn’t have to pay for my house. And he’s also right about what a drag it is to have to work 30 hours a week while attending college full time.

There are a whole slew of things that would be far better if we didn’t have to pay for them, or better yet, if someone else was forced to pay for them. Maybe medical school is one of them. Maybe housing too, or basic transportation. And what about food? Nothing quite so life sustaining as food. Don’t even get me started on health care. Why, if I didn’t have to worry about paying for health insurance, hell I might be able to go back to school myself and finally get that Master’s Degree in Intersectional French Poetry I’ve always dreamed about.

Things are expensive. Really good and important things like medical school are ridiculously expensive. But, pardon me for not brimming with confidence when people like Leslie Stahl advocate for making stuff free, when they can’t even wrap their minds around the fact that interest is charged on loans!

What States Have the Most Stress?

I recently read an article about some study which was done to determine which states are the most stressful to live in and which were the most stress free. Based upon the headline alone, I immediately constructed my list. For me, the most stress free state was Maine, but to be fair...I don’t live there, especially in the winter! The study produced a top three list. What states would you imagine were on the list?

Most Stress Free States:

Utah

Minnesota

Massachusetts 

Most Stressed Out States:

Louisiana 

Mississippi 

Arkansas

The article went on to explain the methodology of the study, which used measurements of the following qualities to determine their results...work-life balance, low unemployment, less student loan debt, and access to Mother Nature.

Ok, right off the bat I’m suspicious of the study. First of all, every state in the union provides access to Mother Nature. It’s called, “going outside”. Secondly, this work-life balance thing is very much a modern construct which would have been unheard of for 99.9% of human history, along with the historically brand new concept of leisure time. Imagine lecturing Thomas Edison about work-life balance? Try explaining work-life balance to the men and women who settled the West. Besides, the proper mix of work and life I would think would vary widely among human beings. How did these researchers decide on what the proper balance was? Who died and placed them in charge of determining the correct amount of work and life for each person in each of the 50 states? Less student debt is one of the four most important contributors of determining the stress of an entire state? Wait...what?? What a bunch of maroons!!

I look at the results of this survey and one thing practically jumps off the page at me. There is one thing about each of these states that is a dead giveaway as to why they appeared on these lists....the presence/absence of oppressive heat and humidity.

I lived in Louisiana for three years. Whenever I am tempted to complain about the humidity in Short Pump, I think back to what it was like to spend my summers in New Orleans. Try to imagine what it might be like to walk through a Turkish bathhouse in August wearing  a water suit, a parka, and a wool ski mask. Mississippi and Arkansas are right next door. They all share that thick, damp air. You want some work-life balance? I’ve got your work-life balance right here...work for ten minutes, then spend the rest of the hour submerged in a bathtub full of ice.

Utah and Minnesota wouldn’t know humidity if it slapped them in the face. Oh, I’m sure that the fine people of St. Paul still remember exactly where they all were that day back in the 90’s when the thermometer reached 88 that bizarre day in July, when literally everybody wore short sleeve shirts!

The fact is that most stress in life is in direct proportion of how oppressively hot and humid it is outside. Why is it do you think that there is so much violence, hatred and discord in the Middle East? It’s not religion. It’s not the Arab-Israeli conflict. It’s the fact that those poor people spend practically every day of their miserable lives drenched in sweat! You try getting along with your neighbor when you can smell him from 100 yards away!

You want more evidence? When the Dunnevant Clan heads to the Outer Banks for our biennial vacation together, it is mostly a joyous celebration of familial fellowship, where the work-life balance runs along at about 90 to one. But, all of this family love would evaporate faster than a water puddle in Bangkok if the air conditioner went on the fritz. If the 20 of us had to co-exist in an eight bedroom beach house with no AC for more than 36 hours, it would be the Donner party all over again!

Yeah, I could have saved these researchers a lot of trouble.

Keep America American?

I have managed to stay almost 100% off the news grid for the past 6 days.

What have I missed?

I mean, I know that the stock markets have behaved beautifully while I’ve been away, and I am fully up to speed with all the happenings in Major League Baseball, but other than that, I am blissfully unaware.

Here’s something odd...while on yesterday’s run, I passed a couple of posters that had been plastered unto the back of some road signs out on Ocean Boulevard. I stopped and took a couple of pictures, but just now decided not to display them here. They were from an outfit called Patriot Front, and there was something familiar about one of the images I saw on one of them...an eagle with arrows in both claws with an odd emblem affixed in the middle of the eagle’s breast. When I got back to the condo I Googled it...sure enough, it was a dead ringer of an old blood and soil poster from Nazi Germany, circa 1935. Digging further I discovered that these Patriot Front dudes were the same guys responsible for the Charlottesville riot back last year. The posters were filled with relatively benign exhortations about Life and Liberty and the importance of free speech. Then, I saw the warning that America was being “conquered” by illegal aliens, and if we know what’s good for us we better Keep America American! Then, I noticed the smaller print which suggested that if we were to encounter any suspicious-looking illegals, we should report them to the authorities because...they are criminals.

Long time readers of this space know of my views on immigration. I’m basically all for anyone from anywhere who wants to come here and become an American, as long as they do so properly, respecting our laws that govern the process. So, no...I am not in favor of the free for all down south and all that it entails. But, neither am I in favor of rounding up 10 million immigrants here illegally and shipping them back to where they came from. They are not cattle, they are human beings. Anyway, the thing that I found amusing about these posters was where I found them...on a street which featured several million 6,000 square foot McMansions and one twenty story resort beach hotel. I thought to myself...What a great place to look for illegal immigrants...the big hotel where they spend 12 hours a day cleaning out our toilets and changing our sheets..and the huge beach houses where teams of them swoop in every Saturday morning to tidy up the place for the new family of vacationers fortunate enough to be able to afford to rent a beach house for 7 grand a week!!

Maybe a better plan would be to storm into the headquarters of the resort hotel and make a citizens arrest of the Human Resources guy who hired the undocumented laborers in the first place! Let’s frog march a dozen contractors down to the county jail for hiring teams of roofers and landscape laborers for a change. How about we stop demonizing a bunch of people doing hard work that most of us would never want to do, and start going after the real demons...the businesses who profit from their cheap labor and circumvent our immigration laws to line their own pockets?

Thank You.

Yesterday was the best weather day of the week, and since it was my birthday I decided to play a round of golf for the first time since September. I chose the nearest course...a place called Possum Trot...and was fortuitously paired with three older snowbirds from New Jersey. What my golf game lacked in entertainment value was more than made up for by my new friends, Rich, Irv, and Corky, ages 69, 78, and 79. Between the three of them, I learned all about life growing up in Atlantic City, the joys of retirement, the manifold shortcomings of their current spouses, and some of the most colorful profanity I’ve heard in years. As far as the my golf game? I started off beautifully, a mere one over par thru the first six holes, which prompted accusations of ringer status from my playing partners. But after that my game went to hell in a hand basket, and I was lucky to shoot 95, which involved seven three putt greens, and an 8 on a 135 yard par 3! 

When I got back to the condo I spent some time on the beach, which is to say...I fell asleep. I am a huge advocate of the afternoon nap, as many of you know. Its recuperative powers are legendary, but let’s not call it by that ridiculous name...the power nap. It is nothing of the sort. Taking an afternoon nap is not powerful. It is comforting, relaxing, and calming, serving to recalibrate the mind amidst the stresses of the day.

After my siesta, it was time to pick a restaurant for my birthday dinner. We settled on a place called the Thoroughbred Chop House, which turned out to be an excellent choice. Having expensive red meat for the first time in months was wonderful! The kind waitress brought me a free slice of cheesecake...

However, this gratuity was not enough, since as soon as we got back to the condo, I did this...

After sufficiently gorging myself, it was time for presents! I got lots of very cool stuff. 

Then, each of my kids FaceTimed me to wish me a happy birthday and to secure their places in the will. After these two delightful conversations, I looked at my phone and noticed all of the Facebook messages, texts and emails from so many of you. It was overwhelming. It meant the world to me...everyone of them.

Now, the morning has come and the party is over. I am preparing to go down to the beach and put in a 4 mile run, hoping to reverse some of the damage done to my newly slim physique by yesterday’s extravagance.

But, yesterday was just about as perfect as it could possible be. Much of that is because of the kindness and affection of the wealth of great friends I have accumulated over the past 61 years.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Top Ten Reasons Why Getting Older is Cool

Yup...it’s my birthday. 61 years. Looking back over the nearly nine years of this blog, whenever commenting on birthdays I have been remarkably consistent. Generally, I have chronicled the latest physical decline, bemoaning my decreased flexibility, or the most recent loss of vigor. One year I actually went to the trouble of providing my ballooning times in the 5K. But, not this year. This year, I have decided to list the things that I have gotten better at with age, the benefits of aging, as it were...

1. I cannot remember the last time I had a zit.

2. I no longer sit up at night wondering how I’m ever going to pay off my debts. There’s very little of it left at this point.

3. I am free of that most American plague of keeping up with the Jones’ ...mostly because I’ve finally realized that that Jones family is in debt up to their freaking eyeballs, and Mrs. Jones is getting ready to file for divorce.

4. I no longer feel the need to impress anyone. I’ve never really cared an awful lot about what others think of me anyway, but now I really don’t care. It’s quite freeing.

5. Because of number 2 above, I am much more able to act on generosity impulses.

6. Pretty soon Pam will finally have a legit excuse for my sometimes intemperate language...As he’s gotten older, I never know what’s going to fly out of his mouth!

7. With each passing year I get to spend longer and longer periods of time in Maine.

8. The older I get the less afraid I have become.

9. That old line...There’s nothing new under the sun...has finally turned into something that feels more like reassurance than it does sadness. Finally understanding that what is new actually isn’t so new doesn’t feel limiting any more. It is comforting now. I dont have to be thrown for a loop by bad news anymore. Been there, done that.

10. When I was getting ready to marry Pam I used to sit up at night worrying about what would happen if I woke up one day and didn’t love her anymore. What an idiot I was. What a maroon! 

Weather Bad...Company Good

So far, its been quite cold at the beach. Now, it’s raining and cold. According to the local weather people, today will be the worst day of the week. Tomorrow, my birthday, promises to be sunny and 68. We’ll see.

Got the business part of this trip done yesterday, visited with two clients who live down in the Murrell’s Inlet/Pawley’s Island area. Now  I can officially shut down the business corner of my brain, a delightful feeling.

When my daughter was with us, she presented me with a two birthday presents. The first was a book that I have been putting off reading for 25 years or so...

Back in the day, I got on a Larry McMurtry kick, along with practically everyone else, and quickly read three of his novels...Texasville, The Last Picture Show, and Terms of Endearment. But for some reason, I never got around to reading his epic...Lonesome Dove. That grave oversight will be remedied this week. 

Unfortunately, I cannot at this time reveal the identity of the second present I received. That’s because, it is of a private nature, and to speak of it prematurely will ruin its ultimate effectiveness. That’s right...they gave me yet another highly prized, juvenile, practical joke, gag gift, which will have it’s debut in a few months at the Dunnevant family beach week. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. However, I can promise that when the time comes, full video will be made public. Trust me, boys and girls...this one is going to produce record breaking screams of horror from the Dunnevant women, hopefully to the point of raging hysteria. Bennett and Ezra will be in awe of Uncle Doug’s endless practical joke capabilities, both will redouble their efforts to become just like me...their parents will be thrilled.

You, no doubt, have noticed the fact that we seem to have the entire beach to ourselves. You would be correct. It’s almost as if people have the view that 55 degrees and high winds are not conducive to beach living. This is yet more evidence of how soft we have become. 

So, today looks to be a cozy indoor day where we lay about reading, snacking, and talking. When I begin to get restless, Pam will come up with a chore for me to perform which will require me to drive somewhere...anything to get me out of the house. Tonight, if it’s not pouring down rain up in DC, I’m going to watch Bryce Harper, in a Phillies uniform, come up to bat against Max Scherzer. Although I wish Bryce no ill will, I would love nothing better than for Max’s first delivery to whistle two inches from the man’s chin, depositing him on his backside. Fifty years ago, it would have been a sure thing. Now, ball players are so much nicer.

Lucy Being Lucy

Last night, after a day of packing and planning for our trip to the beach, Pam sat on the sofa after dinner and soon had Miss Lucy at her side, head resting on her feet. She turns to me and says, How am I supposed to get anything done with this puppy on my feet? How indeed? 

A few minutes later, I headed upstairs to read a bit in my recliner. It should be pointed out that this particular recliner, being over ten years old now, has developed its own individualized squeak which it makes whenever deployed. It’s not particularly loud and the room is upstairs and all, but Miss Lucy hears everything...even recliners two houses over. So, like the sun rising in the east, Lucy jumped off the sofa and trotted upstairs, then down the hall and finally onto my lap...

She isn’t very pleased that the two of us are leaving her for a week. She knows. Although, she dearly loves our dog-whisperer, house sitter, Becca, she also knows we are headed to a No Pets Allowed condo and is none too happy about it. Dogs just know things.

As most of you know, Lucy is the third Golden of our almost 35 years of marriage, and easily the most difficult. At times, we think she is A. mentally disturbed, B. learning disabled. She eats like a bird, clearly sees things we cannot see, is terrified by practically everything. But, just like the other two Golden’s we have had...she possesses an incorruptible soul. Although she no doubt privately questions our judgement on a whole host of issues...How can you sit there and assure me that the thunder and lightening are not going to kill me?? Just listen to it!!!!...she never judges us, and always puts her disagreements with us behind her at the first opportunity. I’m sure she constantly worries that we seem blithely unconcerned with the deadly ceiling fans overhead, she forgives us our naïveté, chocking it up to that old dog adage...Hummans...what are you gonna do?

So, we will miss her while we are gone, and she will sulk until Becca arrives. But, when we return in a week, all will be forgotten. You never have to teach a dog to forgive. It just comes natural.