Nevin's Data "Points"

The retirement industry spends enormous time modeling outcomes, but most of what really prepares us for retirement isn’t found in a Monte Carlo simulation. It’s learned from watching people around us live their lives. Often our fathers. My parents led mostly through example — and powerful as that can be, as a kid those messages are often too subtle to be noticed, much less appreciated. At 6’ 5” he was an imposing figure, all the more from the pulpit from which he did speak. He was a good speaker, but not a natural one. As a minister, he worked hard at it, studied his subject matter, and practiced his presentation relentlessly, each and every week. I always thought it amazing that such a quiet, introverted man would choose that career — but, and though it can’t have been easy, it was something he felt called to do at an early age. ad space He had opinions, but didn’t impose them on others. It was difficult (and sometimes frustrating) to wrest opinions from him. Indeed, despite his minis...

  As Father’s Day approaches, I’ve been thinking about my dad, the life he led, the choices he made, and his legacy. Mind you, I’m not talking about money. In fact, I didn’t learn anything about finance from my dad.  Not that our family’s income provided a lot of “room,”—but Dad avoided big purchases with the fervor of Ebenezer Scrooge. However, he’d spend that much (and more) on small things (mostly books, which remain in jaw-dropping abundance in my mother’s home 18 years after his passing!). My dad was a man of few words—spoken words, anyway. At 6’ 5”, he was an imposing figure, all the more so behind the pulpit from which he’d speak three times each week. He was a good speaker, though not a natural one. He worked hard at it, studied his subject matter (hence the books), and practiced his presentation relentlessly each and every week. I always thought it odd that such a quiet, introverted man would choose that career, but it was something he felt called to do at an early ag...

"A father is a man who expects his children to be as good as he meant to be.” – Carol Coats Like many, perhaps most, of you, as a parent I’ve tried to compensate for the ways in which I felt that my parents could have done . . . “better.”  My parents led mostly through example—and powerful as that can be, as a kid those messages are often too subtle to be noticed, much less appreciated. Indeed, my dad was a man of few words—spoken words, anyway. At 6’ 5” he was an imposing figure, all the more from the pulpit from which he did speak. He was a good speaker, but not a natural one. A minister, he worked hard at it, studied his subject matter, practiced his presentation relentlessly, each and every week. I always thought it amazing that such a quiet, introverted man would choose that career—but, and though it can’t have been easy, it was something he felt called to do at an early age. He had opinions, but didn’t impose them on others. Indeed, it was difficult (and some...

This weekend is, of course, Father’s Day—but my dad’s decision to retire was driven more by time than timing.  Like many of his generation, once he got to 65, it was time to “retire.” He didn’t have a pension (fortunately for him, my mother did), though he had Social Security, and savings in a 403(b) plan that he contributed to later in life—reluctantly—once he saw Mom’s modest savings in her 403(b) account grow.   My dad was a man of (very) few words—at least spoken words. Conversations with him generally required… effort. Oh, he’d respond to direct questions, but his answers tended to be short and—well, direct. Again, like many of his generation, mostly he was content to let my mother be the conversationalist in family settings.    So, when Dad turned to me one weekend afternoon for some input on his retirement planning—well, I was surprised. Not that it didn’t warrant a discussion, mind you—but it was not something we had ever discussed—an...

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 ...