Nevin's Data "Points"

As Father’s Day approaches, I’ve been thinking about my dad, the life he led, the choices he made, and the legacy he left behind. I’m not talking about money. In fact, I didn’t learn anything about finance from my dad—he avoided big purchases with the fervor of Ebenezer Scrooge, though he’d spend that much (and more) on small things (mostly books). Like many in his generation, my dad wanted to hold the checkbook, but it was Mom who always made sure that there was money in the account. Dad tithed “biblically,” but Mom was the one who started setting aside money from her paycheck in her 403(b) plan at work—and continued to do so, even when my father was convinced they couldn’t afford it—and made no secret of that opinion. Or did until he got a glimpse of the statement that showed Mom’s retirement account growth—and then, inspired by that example—he began setting money aside for retirement as well. My dad was a man of few words—spoken words, anyway. At 6’ 5” he was an

Back when I was in school (OK, so it was  way  back), there were these little red fire alarm boxes strategically placed throughout the building. Their purpose was clearly indicated in big white letters… but, inevitably, as the school year wound to a close…   Well, it seemed that someone was always pulling those levers, and no, not because of any actual fire—but rather because some hapless soul had been pressured to create a nuisance, but more commonly just because some upper classman was looking to avoid a test for which they weren’t prepared, or wanted to get outside and enjoy the fresh air. Initially these emergency calls got the expected response, and we all dutifully filed down the stairs and out to our designated areas. And, sure enough, by the time the building was evacuated, the premises sufficiently investigated, and the student body returned to our respective classrooms—well, it left little time for actual instruction, for a period, at least. And then afterwa

As the nation enters its third month under the constraints of the COVID-19 pandemic, it seems a dramatic understatement to say we are living in uncertain times. Let’s face it, even as the nation begins to (re)open, concerns about the coronavirus remain widespread, and the markets, though stabilizing, remain volatile. Unemployment rates, though optimism remains that they will be short-lived, are at levels not seen since… well, at levels never seen before. And then, in the midst of all this, as a nation, we are reeling from a fresh wound—the tragedy and implications of George Floyd’s death—and while many are hopeful that meaningful change can finally come from this, there’s sadness—and anger—that the protests calling for that change have been accompanied by acts of violence. Amidst all this worry and uncertainty, it’s hard to believe that the CARES Act —and the Payroll Protection Program —have only just been drafted, executed, and implemented to help stave off at least