The Money Chronichles, Volume 4: And I'm Supposed to Trust These Guys With My Credit?

Today both Nancy and I received offers for a credit card. It’s not unusual, we shred the equivalent of a small forest of these things each year. Today’s had a funny twist.

For the record, both of these offers (in separate envelopes) came from Capital One (they are the “What’s in your wallet” guys). But when I opened the envelope addressed to Nancy, the return card was addressed to me. When I opened my envelope it was addressed to one of my neighbors. Presumably my neighbor has the one addressed to me. Or it could be a massive mix up where dozens of us are getting each others’ offers.

These offers succeed to the extent that they convince me to use their card. Suffice it to say they didn’t impress me and I have no desire to do business with them.

Welcome to San Diego (Where Even Santa Claus Shakes You Down)

Santa's shaking you down
On Saturday Nancy and I went down to Balboa Park for the annual celebration of December Nights. While there we saw this sign. It’s a Christmas tradition that young children sit on Santa’s lap, but most of us don’t remember paying for this joy. But then again, I didn’t spend my Santa years in San Diego.

It’s a new, cynical, and expensive world. At least here in San Diego

The Money Chronicles, Volume 3: Great Moments at the Cash Register

I ran a simple errand today: I needed to get a wallet and drove to my local department store. I expected to pay about $30 and get something that will last a few years. As I walked up to the Macy’s at the University Town Center I saw there was a table near the entrance. Fortunately it wasn’t someone looking for my support for a candidate or ballot measure: it was the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure and they were collecting money to end breast cancer. I cheerfully gave them $5.00 and I was given a coupon that I could use at the store. Here is a copy of the coupon:

Macy's Coupon


I know it’s hard to read, but bear with me (I’m sure there was no intent to make it confusing). The coupon grants discounts of 10%, 20%, or 25% depending on what you buy. I intended to buy a man’s wallet. The discount would be 25% if it was a “single regular, sale or clearance fashion item for the entire family including accessories, plus selections for your home.” The discount would be 20% if I’m buying a “sale & clearance and select regular priced women’s [sic], men’s [sic] and kids’ apparel and accessories, fine and fashion jewelry, frames, bed & bath items, housewares, luggage, and china.” The 10% discount appears to apply only for “all sale & clearance and select regular-priced furniture, mattresses, area rugs, electrics and electronics.” Any idea where my wallet fits? Me neither.

I walked into the store and found the mens’ wallet display. There were three tables: one table announced that everything on the table is on sale for 20% off. The second table had a sign that all wallets there were 30% off. The third table had a sign that was covered up. You make the call. As you might expect, my first question was whether I could combine the two discounts: the sale price on the wallet and the coupon. I found a suitable wallet (manufactured by Geoffrey Beane if that matters to you). The list price was $36, the upper level of what I wanted to pay. But wait: it’s on the 30% off table and I have a coupon for either 20% or 25%. How much is the wallet now? Good question. The first salesperson I asked read the coupon and said that I have to have a Macy’s credit card to use the coupon. I asked where he sees that on the coupon and he called another salesperson over. This person seemed to think I could combine the two, but he wasn’t sure (that’s what the cash register was for). We walked over to the cash register and he suggested that I apply for a Macy’s credit card which would give me an additional 25% off of this purchase. That would have been fun, but I declined. At this point I’m still not sure what I’m going to pay.

OK, drum roll: the 2nd salesperson rang me up and the total price was $21.92. I can’t complain, and I bought the wallet. Now, here’s the question: how did it go from $36 to $21.92? I started writing the Money Chronicles because of experiences like this. We’re often bombarded by offers of discounts and sales, and more often than not we have no idea how much we’re going to pay. The 30% off table looked enticing, and being able to save an additional 10%, 20%, or 25% sounded even better. But neither I nor the cashier knew how much I would be charged until the cash register told us.

One thing I knew right away was that I wouldn’t get 55% off (30% plus 25%). But let’s start with the 30%. The list price of the wallet was $36.00 and 30% of that is $10.80. Subtract the $10.80 and the wallet should be $25.20. So far so good. Now for the second part: it appears that my wallet is catagorized as “sale & clearance and select regular priced women’s [sic], men’s [sic] and kids’ apparel and accessories, fine and fashion jewelry, frames, bed & bath items, housewares, luggage, and china” as I was given the 20% discount. I guess the wallet is an accessory. Too bad it doesn’t qualify as “for the entire family” as I would have gotten 25% off. In any case, I got 20% off the $25.20. That’s $5.04, bringing the total down to $20.16. Add the 8.75% sales tax of $1.76 and it brings the total to $21.92.

In the end, I was discounted $14.08, which was 39%. But I wonder how many people would have thought I’d have gotten 50% off (30% plus 20%). Each discount made the next one less valuable, and I have to wonder this: if I had applied for a Macy’s credit card, where would that discount have come? I’m guessing it would have been after the 30% and before the 20%. That being the case, it would have gone like this: Start with $36.00, minus the 30% ($25.20). Now take the credit card 25% ($6.30) and that gets me down to $18.90. Now the 20% coupon gives me another $3.78 off, bringing the total down to $15.12. Add on sales tax and we’re back up to $16.44. It gives me a new credit card with (likely) a high interest rate, and it would have saved me $5.48. Doing the math makes it seem less valuable.

Yes, At My Age I Can Still Be a Happy Camper

The weekend of June 11-13th was an important few days for me. I didn’t think I would actually go through with it, but I spent that weekend at Camp Marston in Julian, California as a “cabin big buddy” at Camp Erin. It’s a camp for children aged 6-17 who are remembering someone who has died. Oftentimes it’s a parent or a sibling, but it can be anybody.

For lots of reasons I’ve been looking for a place where I can volunteer my gifts, and this looked like a good spot. As many of you know, I’m a chaplain with San Diego Hospice. My work with the terminally ill oftentimes connects with the Center for Grief Care and Education and the ministry they do. I believe that grief is a skill that must be learned and the staff at our Center provides the best education I’ve ever seen. I volunteered to work with boys aged 16 and 17. I know, I know, these are not the easiest people to work with, but they are people who are in need.

I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, but when I met the boys/young men I was living with, I knew I had chosen well. It’s been a looooooong time since I was the Youth Minister at All Saints Catholic Church in Manassas, Virginia but the issues hadn’t changed. They still wanted someone who cared about them and I was grateful to provide them with them with that. Given what they’d been through, I was grateful to be the person who cared. I know I didn’t solve all their problems, but maybe I helped them know someone cared about them. Maybe I’ll see them next year.

Is Your House Filled with Too Much Air?

As part of my job I go into different peoples’ homes and can see how they live. It’s an interesting experience, to say the least. One observation I’ve made is that while there are all sorts of products on the market that make your house smell fresh, it’s really a waste of time and money. With very few exceptions, most houses don’t smell bad.

One thing I do notice (and truth be told, suffer from) is the amount of clutter we keep. Maybe this is part of turning 50, but I keep thinking I should start to get rid of stuff that I don’t use.

But wait: there’s another answer! I saw a commercial recently for something called the Spacebag. These are large, heavy ply plastic bags that you fill with blankets, clothing, etc. Then you hook the bag up to the vacuum cleaner and suck out the air. It compresses the bag which allows you easy storage.

That’s right America: the problem with clutter isn’t that you have too much stuff, it’s that you have too much air! Now you can suck the air out and make more room for your stuff!

If you want another chuckle, you can see the classic George Carlin monologue A Place for Your Stuff.

On My First 50 Years

As of 9:00 a.m. this morning (Eastern time) I am 50 years old. It feels a little strange as this number used to look really old to me. In 1970 I received (as a Christmas gift) a book called The First 50 Years, the history of the NFL from 1920 to 1970. I still have it. I remember thinking then that 50 years seemed like forever. It doesn’t so much anymore.

While it’s amusing to recognize that I’m now eligible for membership in the AARP I don’t feel 50, though I’m not sure what 50 should feel like. I know I don’t mind being mistaken for being older than I am, and I have no desire to be younger. Maybe I’m fooling myself but I don’t hear the hoofbeats of Sister Death. I love the wisdom I’ve gained in my first 50 years and while my experiences have been far from universally fun, I’ve learned some important lessons.

I’ve learned to laugh more and fear less.
I’ve learned that worry is seldom benign, often malignant, and almost never accurate.
I’ve learned that the better angels of my nature are quite powerful and are most effective when I let them loose.
I’ve learned that the people who love me aren’t mistaken, and most of the people who dislike me are.
I’ve learned that when someone pays me a compliment it usually comes after some honest thought.
I’ve learned that when someone criticizes me it’s not always done well, but I can probably learn something from it.
I’ve learned that God loves the people who drive me crazy and I should follow His example.
I’ve learned that there is no downside to praying.
I’ve learned that there is no downside to love.

And finally, I’ve learned how much I love my wife Nancy. We were out to dinner tonight to celebrate my birthday. I told her that out of my 50 years, the last 12 when I’ve been married to her have been my happiest. I hope she feels the same way.

It’s been a fun ride so far. I hope for many more birthdays. If you’re reading this, thank you.

Great Moments in the Census

Tomorrow, April 1st, is the day every 10 years where we are counted. The US Constitution (Article 1 Section2) mandates that an “Enumeration shall be made within three Years after the first Meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent Term of ten Years, in such Manner as they shall by Law direct.” The first census was completed in 1790 and we’ve done it every 10 years since.

This year we all received a form in the mail that we fill out and mail back, but it wasn’t always like that. It used to be that the Census Department hired people to go door to door and fill out a form. The questions have changed and some of the questions have led to funny answers. In my family the French spelling of last names drove some of the census workers crazy and we had some great misspellings. My maternal grandmother’s maiden name was Mailloux and is pronounced “My You.” In different places it was spelled “Mayhew” and (my favorite) “Mayo.”

But the funniest notation I found was in the 1920 Census for Gardner, Massachusetts, Supervisor’s District 3, Enumeration District 73, Sheets 6B and 7A. Here is where the census worker (Lucie Laurence) came to the French Catholic Church, Holy Rosary. When Lucie got to the rectory where the priests live, she listed the pastor as head of the household. That makes sense. But the other priests were listed as “servants.” Then Lucie went to the convent. Again, the mother superior was listed as head of the household, but the other nuns were listed as inmates. Clearly she wasn’t Catholic.

You can look it up yourself. Census records are made public after 73 years. The form you filled out this year will be public record in 2083.

I've Elected to Have No Opinion

OK this goes against the very grain of writing a blog, but here goes: I have decided on some issues to have absolutely, completely, entirely no opinion. I hope this doesn’t put my American citizenship in peril.

There are certainly many issues where I will continue to have strong opinions and this is far from a decision to stop blogging. But I’ve noticed that I’m oftentimes asked to weigh in on an issue and I have a hard time either deciding on the issue or caring about it. I’m now electing to vocally have no opinion.

I’ve often used the 24 hour news channels as a scapegoat and will do so here. My problem with networks like CNN, Fox, and MSNBC is that every 24 hours they need to find 24 hours of content. One of the ways they fill this content is to pit pundits against each other and argue; they also bring viewers in to participate through real time emails and phone calls. This results in all of us feeling not that we have a right to an opinion, but that we have a duty to an opinion. I’ve decided to just say no to this duty. Here are some of the areas where I have chosen to have no opinion:

  • The Mt. Soledad Cross: There is a war memorial cross on a hill in La Jolla. For the last several years there have been lawsuits going back and forth regarding the appropriateness of having a religious symbol on public land. I’ve decided to have no opinion.
  • Every year at Christmas the level of moral outrage appears to spike up. Public displays of manger scenes (Christian) menorahs (Jewish) and the like provoke heat seemingly every year. Some complain that wishing a non-Christian “Merry Christmas” is offensive while others are offended with “Happy Holidays” and feel they are not allowed to say “Merry Christmas.” I’ve elected to have no opinion.
  • Last week I was listening to National Public Radio and they ran a story on chocolate milk in schools. It seems that some groups (like the dairy industry) like having chocolate milk in schools because more children will drink milk. They’ve outlined their arguments at a web page called Raise Your Hand For Milk. The other side argues that the added sugar in the chocolate makes it no better than sugared soda. They are led by Chef Ann Cooper who calls herself the “renegade lunch lady.” I’ve elected to have no opinion.

There will no doubt be other issues and I’ll keep the blog posted.

Habamas Cattus

OK, my Latin is really rusty and I have no idea if I have the right declension but it’s supposed to say “We have a cat” and it’s a takeoff from the “Habamas Papam” that is declared when a new pope is selected.

Yes, the long wait is over, and we have a cat. Pictures will follow, but for now she’s a short hair tabby that we got from the San Diego Humane Society and SPCA. Once we finished all the house stuff it was time to look at getting a new cat. As you remember, our last cat, Kirby, died in March and we’ve been without a cat since. Yesterday there was a Humane Society Adoption Center at the Ocean Beach Dogwash and they had 9 kittens. They were given names, grouped by litter. Ours was named (no kidding) Mint Chocolate Chip and one of her siblings was named Neopolitan. There was another group of three called Morticia, Uncle Fester, and Lurch.

One of our first jobs is finding a new name for her: Mint Chocolate Chip was just a placeholder name. We’ve decided to move past the vacuum cleaner names (ie, Hoover and Kirby) and we are thinking of naming her Missy. Suggestions are always welcome and we’ll keep everyone posted.

We had a good night with her last night but I still have this fantasy of inventing a time machine and going back to ancient Egypt. There I can find the person who first decided to domesticate a nocturnal animal.