Wednesday, September 5, 2018

We Chose An Investment Plan -- And Why We Did (Part II)

Hopefully, you've read PART I: THE BACKSTORY before you stopped by here. It will explain what the heck this five-part series is all about.

PART II:  LIFE -- 

     The Brick and I began married life Dec, 26, 1981 as poor college stuents in Ann Arbor. But we both had jobs, and reasonable transportation -- and enough funds that, if we were careful, paid the bills and left us enough to go out for pancakes on Saturday morning.
      We loved each other very much. (Still do.)

     If there was anything our folks had taught us, it was how to be resourceful, and stretch our money.


Here we are -- The Mama made my dress, and we got the Brick's suit at a men's discounted clothing store..
.for a stunning (to us, at least) $100.
 He paid nearly triple that for the suit he wore this year to his daughter's wedding!


     I bought groceries very carefully. We lived principally on chicken noodle soup and macaroni & cheese, ramen noodles (but only the best -- Sapporo Ichiban), peanut butter and whatever meat or fish I could find on sale: smelt, octopus, hamburger and chicken. We brought vegetables and fruit back from the folks' farm, and grew our own in a community garden plot. Our neighbors were nearly all international students; our best friends were a couple from Taiwan. (She taught me authentic stirfry; I taught her how to make cream puffs. Marcella, I still miss you.)

     When the Brick finished his B.S. in engineering, we spent the summer on a Yamaha Virago motorcycle. (We'd traded in the Kawasaki.) We had $850, camping gear and plans to follow Lewis & Clark's expedition trail. It was a wonderful time, sore bottom and all -- and a fitting intro to the West that we live in now.
     We arrived in Boulder in August 1984, covered in mud (it had been raining for days) and pretty much broke. A friend in Ann Arbor volunteered her sister's place to stay. By the time we headed back to Michigan to pick up our stuff, by God's grace, the Brick was enrolled in grad school at the University of Colorado; we had an on-campus apartment ($125/month...insanely cheap in Boulder!); and I had two job offers. (I took the one at the Daily Camera, Boulder's newspaper. Reasonable pay -- but even better, BENEFITS.)



    The Brick got a job, working for Boulder County as an engineer. (Good pay, no benefits.) He finished his M.S. in Engineering. We had Daughter #1; I left my job at the Camera, but freelanced for them. We moved up into the mountains. (Ironically, only a few blocks from where Daughter #2 and Son #1 live today.) After some difficult months -- this was during a huge financial recession in Colorado -- the Brick passed his P.E., and got a really good position as a mechanical engineer. We moved down into Denver; Daughter #2 was born soon after we moved to Castle Rock.

Life was good. We bought our first house, after visiting dozens of possibilities. (We dickered a lot, as well. Even though money was much more available, we'd lived on so little for so long that we couldn't help ourselves. I still check the markdown bins today.) I had a garden, made bread and jam (from our own cherry and wild plum bushes) -- and worked part-time as an editor for a quilting magazine. The girlies walked to school, only a few blocks away; our friend Chris, a former schoolteacher, took care of them until I could get home.

Life was very good.

Only it wasn't.

     The Brick got laid off -- and laid off again. If you've ever worked in the Denver area, you'll understand this. Many of the large engineering firms are military contractors...and their contracts, if you're lucky, go for five years. At the end of that period, they lay everyone off, and the process starts all over again.
     By this time, the Brick was working for Lockheed-Martin: 60-80 hours a week minimum, and encouraged to work more. His 'great' salary never changed, no matter how many hours he put in. It was so much stress that he ended up with a nervous breakdown, and stayed home for a month. (Meanwhile, I was trying to do my work at the magazine and desperately trying to remain upbeat, as I watched our savings -- thank God, we HAD savings, -- disappear.)

     When he began to recover and went back to work, he made up that lost month's time in roughly three weeks. That's how hard Lockheed-Martin worked its people. In fact, another engineer had a breakdown and was on their way to the hospital within just a day of the Brick's return.

We both knew he could not take much more of this life. So he got a job as campus engineer for his old alma mater, CU-Boulder. The hours were almost normal, and the atmosphere not so pressured.

     And the Brick had at least 2-3 hours commute to and from Castle Rock. Every single day.

We were paying extra on the mortgage every month -- and had money deducted from our paychecks automatically every month.  Hey, it disappeared before the bank deposit...so we didn't have it, right? (If you're working regularly -- and not doing this -- please consider starting a 401k and funding it regularly -- even if you can contribute only a little. This is even more important if your employer is willing to match part of the amount.)

Then I got laid off. Then hired again, but for fewer hours and lower pay. (No matching, either.) My business, Brickworks, was still in the enfant terrible stage. But at least it brought in a little income.

We looked at houses in the Boulder area, thinking we'd move. Couldn't find anything we liked, at a price we could afford. (Boulder is expensive. Even today, a house that would be $100,00 or so elsewhere can easily sell for more than a million.)

We found another house -- still in Castle Rock, but with more space and a 50-mile or so view that looked out at the mountains. It had wacky owners -- we called them Ma & Pa Kettle, after we found evidence they'd raised rabbits in the finished basement -- and some mechanical problems, including the wiring being put in backward. The real estate agents finally agreed to forego part of their commission, just so they could get the property off their hands. (Yes, we got it for a bargain.) The day we moved in, Ma & Pa Kettle's secondhand schoolbus was still in the driveway, full of kids peeking out -- and they were frantically vacuuming inside 'our' house. I found pockets of forgotten towels, clothes, etc. for months afterwards, but couldn't send them on -- Ma and Pa wouldn't give us a forwarding address. (Turns out they owed money to practically everyone.)

     Our first house didn't sell right away. To pay both mortgages, I took another newspaper job, doing marketing and layout. The girlies moved to a new school, which they both hated.

The Brick's job at CU became more and more stressful. Finally, he felt close to another breakdown. I didn't want to go through that again. Neither did he.

So he quit.




We had enough in savings for three months -- the 401k's, as always, remained untouched.  (Thank God, and our frugal parents' examples!)  When the money was gone, the Brick took the least mentally-stressful job he could find: as a school bus driver. (Ironic, huh.)

He was rested, and getting better. And our bills were still being paid, by God's grace. Our first house had finally sold, and my teaching/writing income was starting to pick up.

Could we keep going, even though our income was now less than 25% of the Brick's engineering pay?


(NEXT:  PART III:  COPING)

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