Wisdom on Wealth

She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry in my office.

“What was he thinking?” she asked, taking a deep breath and pausing to hold back the tears.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Her husband had started his business from scratch, striking out on his own when he was just 32. They worked as a team to raise a family and start a business. It was so tight in those early years, but all she could remember were the good times.

Within ten years he was hiring more staff and opening a second location to serve the needs to a growing clientele. He was a supplier to a specialty niche in his industry and he became known for his responsiveness and customer service.

For years the business had been successful, as far as she knew. There was always enough money and even though his travel schedule was at times demanding, he seemed to strike a balance between hard work and time with her.

Most important things in life cannot be crammed.

You remember cramming. It was a skill I learned well in high school.

I would ignore learning any relevant material outside of what was required for day to day academic survival, until an appropriate interval prior to a big test. The interval may be 30 minutes to 24 hours prior to a big test, depending on the teacher. Having procrastinated as long as possible, I would read the high points of the material, perhaps including some Cliff Notes if it was a big test. Usually the items I was seeking to cram into my short-term memory were factoids I had identified by that time-honored method of academic inquiry…asking the teacher, “Is this going to be on the test?”

So cramming works…in some situations, most of which are not very important or beneficial over the long-term.

In fact, cramming is usually a short-term solution that simply delays or anesthetizes a long-term problem.

Vladimir smirks at a computer screen, furiously typing as he chain-smokes one cigarette after another.

He is hacking into your bank account.

Green numbers flash across his screen, indicating the systematic draining of your bank account into his off-shore account, all accomplished from his dingy apartment building somewhere in upper Siberia.

From a hot and humid internet cafe in Cameroon, dozens of teen-aged online scammers send out email after email, each pretending to be a long-lost Nigerian prince, heir to a tanker of oil if he can just get a $10,000 bank account open…with your money. And…wonders!...he promises to split the money with you once he sells the oil!

We buried my father-in-law last week.

Ninety-four years is a long time to live.

In so many ways he was an American success story. Born into a family of ten children, he was raised in northern Webster Parish during the depression. Milk and eggs were taken to market weekly on a horse and wagon, and when he got old enough to attend LSU, he had to walk ten miles to Springhill to begin the hitchhiking journey to Baton Rouge.

He earned a forestry degree from LSU, fought his way across Europe with the U.S. Army during World War II, started a family in the 50s, a forestry business in the 60s and all along the way bought as many tracts of land and LSU season tickets as his budget and his bankers would allow.

Just the other day, one of my son’s friends, Grant, called me with a business question. I got to know Grant during his undergrad years, and quickly saw that he would make a sharp businessman. Not too long after graduation, Grant went into business with his father. He was excited about the prospect of building a family business and optimistic about their success.

However, he soon realized that he and his father had different views on debt. On the one hand, Grant’s father was totally against it. But on the other hand, Grant believed there was nothing wrong with debt if they could afford it.

“So where does debt fit into business?” Grant asked me, struggling to choose the next right step.

Every weekday morning, I do CrossFit with Tim. Tim is a young dad, probably in his early thirties, who’s busy providing for his wife and three kids under the age of five. What a handful.

Just last week, as we were leaving the gym and heading to our cars, Tim told me that he’s considering two different job offers – one pays more, but the other has better benefits.

“I am leaning towards the one with better benefits,” he said, “since I like that security. What do you think?”

I think my answer may have startled him a bit:

Question: I am discouraged. I believe I am doing the best I can with my career and my money, but it never seems to be enough. I admit I’m my own worst critic, but I see all my peers seeming to drive bigger cars and live in nicer houses. They are clearly doing better than I am. I know it shouldn’t matter, but do you think I’ll ever be able to catch up with them?

Answer: You will never catch up because you were never meant to.