Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Before You Hit The Deer...in 90 Seconds or Less

People tend to know the commercials for their car insurance company better than they know their coverage, so here’s a fly-by primer of how to understand your auto insurance with an extra special surprise at the end that’s bound to make you laugh.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Ben Franklin Was Wrong!

Ben Frankin was, without question, a man of wisdom. He was right about many things, but one area in which I must respectfully disagree with the sage is his insistence that the only certainties in this life are death and taxes. Of course, taxes and death are hard to avoid, but there are also other things in life that we will most definitely not evade. In this last of an 18 blog series on the subject matter contained in the book I co-authored with best-selling author, Jim Stoval, we address another one of those certainties and the steps that one must take to adapt and thrive in the face of it.

From The Financial Crossroads, Chapter 18, “Your Story, Your Plan”:

We have made reference in other parts of the book to the oft quoted phrase about death and taxes. I enjoy history, so I had to trace its origin. It appears that Daniel Defoe, in 1726, was the first to make this now famous claim, albeit more eloquently: “Things as certain as death and taxes, can be more firmly believed.” Much closer to the modern day phrase, however, was Ben Franklin’s redux in a letter to Jean-Baptiste Leroy in 1789, in which he said, “In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” Regardless of the veracity of this line of thought, I find it all quite depressing. But I do think that we could turn this into a phrase in which we’d all agree: One guarantee in this world is change.

Do you embrace, reject, resist or retreat from change? The fact that you purchased this book tells me you probably don’t reject it. That you read this far tells me you probably don’t resist it. The question now, however, is whether you will embrace it or retreat from it. The easier path is to retreat, because as Arnold Bennett tells us, “even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.” Regarding the intersection of money and life, there are two different types of change: fundamental change and practical change. In a perfect world, fundamental change happens first and practical change follows almost effortlessly. But fundamental change does not always come easily. Often times, practical change precedes fundamental change as we allow a discipline to shape our view fundamentally.

A fundamental change is seeing the world as a risk manager; practical change is altering your insurance policies. Fundamental change is shifting from a retirement plan to a fulfillment plan; practical change is taking degree or certificate college courses that could lead to a job change. Fundamental change is seeing your estate plan as a legacy plan; practical change is updating your will.

Practical change is cutting up the credit cards, your path to more; fundamental change is genuine contentment with enough. Practical change is beginning a giving program; fundamental change is having less of an attachment to material things. Practical change is writing your Personal Money Story; fundamental change is realizing its significance. Practical change is dealing with the dollars and cents in life; fundamental change is life itself.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Financial Planning Timeline...in 90 Seconds or Less (sort of!)

Unfortunately, the "financial planning process" has the unintended consequence of rushing you (and the financial planner) through the most important steps of the process in an effort to get the planner paid the quickest. See how in "The Financial Planning Timeline in 90 Seconds."

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Selling Snow Cones To Eskimos

The financial services business is… interesting. It’s not entirely devoid of good intentions and well-meaning people, but there is no question whose interest is the top priority—and it ain’t yours! To paint you a picture, I’ve included an excerpt from The Financial Crossroads; the story of how I first entered (then temporarily left) “the business.”

From Chapter Seventeen: Everyone Is Biased:

“Everyone is biased.” Those were the words of a mentor of mine shortly after I entered the business of financial advising. I had already been working in the financial industry for several years, but this was the second time that my idealistic view of the objective, trusted financial advisor received a healthy dose of reality. The first time was about three years earlier. I had just finished celebrating my rite of passage into the stock brokerage world——successful completion of the “Series 7” examination that allows one to sell stocks, bonds, mutual funds, options, and various other securities to the public——when I left my entry-level back office job at a reputable brokerage firm to join a successful team of stock brokers at another firm as a “junior broker.”

I showed up the first day, bright and early, in my token blue pin-striped suit, starched white shirt, and bold power tie. I sauntered into the team leader’s office to await my very first “Morning Call.” I listened intently and began feverishly taking notes as a man’s voice rang through a small box detailing the economic events and non-events that were expected to influence the stock and bond markets that day, as well as the state of the current “inventory” that the company held.

As the call wrapped up with a dose of encouragement——akin to a team chant before a football game——I took a deep breath, a final swig of coffee, and moved forward onto the edge of my chair, eagerly awaiting the golden wisdom from my suspender-bound leader as I set out to save the populous from their deviant financial ways. He stood up, glanced out over the magnificent view of the Baltimore harbor visible from his corner office, and invited me to walk across the hall to get comfortable in my new confines.

He grabbed a three-ring binder, six inches thick, and opened it to the first page. Then he told me to write down the only note he had taken during the morning call: “BGE 6.5% Preferred.” My mission was to call the first number attached to the first name (of many) on the first page (of many) and begin a conversation to help bring whoever answered the phone to the conclusion that they could simply not go another day without putting some of their hard earned money to work for them in this bargain basement deal with an unbeatable yield on this new issue of the bedrock Baltimore utility company’s preferred stock.

I was told to start by putting a smile on my face, because my joy would better translate through the other end of the phone. I should talk and talk and talk until the voice either transitioned into a static dial tone or submitted to my plea to “talk to the resident expert” in house (my team leader), at which point I should put them on hold and alert the big shark that we had a fish on the line (I’m not stretching the metaphors here; that’s really how they talked).

This was my dream?? Several weeks later, driving home from a client lunch with my leader, I got up the nerve to ask him a question, the answer to which I was dying to know: “What drives you? A genuine interest to guide a client to the path of financial success or a pure love of the sale?”

I appreciated his honesty as he let out a “hrmph” and retorted, “The sale——of course! If this business dried up, I’d sell snow cones to Eskimos!”

He was the resident trainer for the company’s new breed of financial advisors that would guide (or pester) the residents of the Baltimore metropolitan area. I talked to him a few days later and told him that I felt we had a “philosophical disconnect” in the way we viewed the business. He agreed, saying, “Yeah, some people just aren’t cut out for the phone,” and we parted on good terms.

The celebrated entrance into the business I had dreamt about since the eighth grade ended in disappointment after only two months.