Don McMinn

Every two years (why don’t I do this every year?) I perform a detailed audit of my personal finances. I realign investments, adjust our annual budget, and update future plans. 

An important part of the audit is analyzing all reoccurring bills and services by asking these questions:

1. 1. 1. Am I paying for something I no longer need or value?
      2. Has the price for this product or service gone down?
      3. Can I negotiate a better price from the current vendor or should I get new bids?
      4. Am I paying for a service I could provide myself?

In January 2020, my financial audit prompted these changes:

• • • A service representative from AT&T helped me tweak my mobile phone plan, saving $29 per month.
    • I renegotiated my internet service plan, saving $49 per month.
    • I canceled my subscription to the local newspaper because I can find most of the information online, saving $35 per month. 
    • I changed storage facilities and reduced the rent I’ve been paying from $119 per month to $35—saving $84 per month. 
    • I asked Chase Bank to eliminate the monthly service charge on two of my six checking accounts. They did, saving me $20 per month. 
    • I purchased a new battery-powered hedge trimmer and started trimming my bushes instead of paying to have it done, which will save me about $800 annually.

Savings: $3,404 per year. 

The same technique should be used in organizations. At my church, we recently renegotiated the contract on our copy machines, saving 40%. We canceled two of the four shuttle buses we lease on Sunday mornings, saving $800 per week. Installing LED lights in the sanctuary has a 24-month ROI after which time we’ll save $1,000 per Sunday on electricity. We discovered that we can get twice the internet bandwidth for less cost.

Senator Everett Dirksen (1896-1964), concerned that federal spending had a way of getting out of control, reportedly observed, “A billion here, a billion there, and pretty soon you’re talking real money.”

For the average American, I’ll tweak Dirksen’s statement and say, “A hundred dollars here, a hundred there, and pretty soon it adds up to a significant amount of money.” Why not save money if you can do so without significantly changing your standard of living?

Audit your finances at least every two years.

I’ve written before on the curse of knowledge

• • Part 1 – The “curse of knowledge” may occur when someone has such mature and advanced knowledge in a specific area that he cannot remember what it’s like to not have this knowledge. 
  • Part 2 – It can happen when you share too much information about an area of expertise. 
  • Part 3 – We tend to share what we’ve recently learned, though it may not be appropriate to the current conversation.  

In this post I’ll talk about yet another way that our personal knowledge can often be a hinderance in our personal relationships.

What do these scenarios have in common?

• • Mary and I served a good California chardonnay at a dinner party we hosted for friends. Someone made a nice comment about the wine and I responded, “It is nice, but I should have served it about five degrees cooler.”
  • At Sunday brunch, someone commented on how much they enjoyed the instrumental group that had played in the morning worship service. My response was, “Yes, they are a talented group. They struggled with intonation in the first service but were spot on in the second service.”
  • In a staff meeting, I corrected someone’s pronunciation of a foreign term. It interrupted the flow of conversation, may have embarrassed the speaker, and made me look like a pompous backside. 

Here’s the challenge I’m talking about: When we’re knowledgeable in a certain area, we’re more likely to notice errors that are made in that domain, both by us and by others. Which is a good thing; that’s what we’ve been trained to do. But there are potential downsides. 

• • • Our expertise can cause us to be needlessly critical in our thinking. 
    • We may unnecessarily share our critical thoughts with others.
    • We may become inappropriately critical of others. 
    • Our heightened sensitivity to mistakes may impede our own and other people’s enjoyment of experiences.

For instance, in the first example given above, I’m a wine expert so I couldn’t help but notice that the wine was served a bit too warm, but I didn’t need to share that with our guests. By emphasizing the issue, I probably sullied my guests’ opinion of the wine and even my own. 

In the second example, I’m a professional musician so I can’t help but notice when mistakes are made in a public performance, but there was no benefit in voicing my observations to others. And, noticing and focusing on the error might have even prevented me from enjoying the groups’ playing in the moment.

Relative to the third bullet point, I’m not an expert in linguistics, I just happened to be familiar with the word that was spoken. It was inappropriate for me to correct the pronunciation. 

By definition, a subject matter expert knows many aspects of her domain, which includes both positive and negative insights. But we must be careful about when and what we share with others. 

• • A nutritionist notices that though a dessert served at a dinner party may be tasty, it’s not healthy. But is it appropriate for her to voice her expertise?
  • A car aficionado knows that the car you just bought has a history of being problematic, but should he tell you?

The story is told of an English professor who was running late to teach a class. He was speeding down the highway, heading toward the college, when a policeman pulled him over.

Policeman: “Sir, you were driving fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit.”

Professor: “I’m so sorry. I’m late for a class I’m teaching at the college.”

Policeman: “Well, okay. This time I’ll just give you a warning. You can go. Drive safe.”

Professor: “Thanks…you mean drive safely…”

Policeman: “On second thought, stay right where you are.”

And he wrote him a speeding ticket.

Sometimes, our knowledge can work against us

I find it beneficial to keep various short narratives—stories—in the forefront of my mind and allow them to inform and guide reoccurring situations. 

For instance:  

When I travel, I like to pack light. When packing my luggage, I often think of this anecdote.

When my son-in-law, Jonathan, was in officer training school for the Navy, the trainees went on a three-day survival trip. All they could take was what they could cram in a backpack and because they were traveling on foot, the lighter the load the better. So instead of packing a full-size toothbrush, he cut off the handle and just took the bristle part. He took that approach to everything that went into his bag.  

So when I’m packing for a trip, I think like this: Nylon is lighter than cotton so when possible, I’ll take clothes made from nylon. Instead of taking four medicine bottles, I’ll presort my medicine into a daily-dose container. I limit myself to two pairs of shoes (wearing one and packing one). I’ll plan on hand-washing clothes on the trip. Remembering Jonathan’s example helps me pack lightly. 

At the church where I work, I oversee finances. When I analyze check requests and purchase orders, I often think of this anecdote. 

My parents were faithful members of our home church. They consistently gave 10% of their income to support it. Though we were a low-income family, they always contributed their part. After Dad and Mom died, one day I was thumbing through their check stubs and I saw a check written to the church for $43.80. They lived on their $438 monthly Social Security check, which wasn’t much, but they were faithful to give 10%.

So when I’m perusing POs and check requests, I think about the many small gifts that are given to our church by low-income families. I want our church to be a good steward of every gift. 

When I communicate—both orally and in writing—I strive to be clear and succinct. I want to use as few words as possible and make every word count. I often think of the following story and it helps keep me on target. 

When Vijay opened his store, he put up a sign that said: “We Sell Fresh Fish Here.” His father stopped by and said that the word “We” suggests an emphasis on the seller rather than the customer, and is really not needed. So the sign was changed to “Fresh Fish Sold Here.” 

His brother came by and suggested that the word “here” could be done away with—it was superfluous. Vijay agreed and changed the sign to “Fresh Fish Sold.” 

Next, his sister came along and said the sign should just say “Fresh Fish.” Clearly, it is being sold; what else would you be doing?

Later, his neighbor stopped by to congratulate him. Then he realized that all passersby could easily tell that the fish was fresh and that mentioning the word “fresh” actually made it sound defensive as though there was room for doubt about the freshness. So, he changed the sign to just: “Fish.”

As Vijay was walking back to his shop after a break he noticed that one could identify the fish from its smell from far away, even at a distance from which one could barely read the sign. He knew there was no need for the word “Fish” so he took the sign down.

So when I write, I think about Vijay’s experience and try to tighten up my prose by eliminating unnecessary words.

Identify your own stories that will remind you of important values and help keep you on track. 

[On a totally different topic, here’s a great article regarding good advice from Warren Buffett. Now 90 years young, the Oracle of Omaha is still impressing with important life lessons.]

Warren Buffett Says 4 Choices in Life Separate the Doers from the Dreamers

I’m an oenophile (one who studies wine). I find it endlessly fascinating. The study of viticulture and viniculture leads one into geography, history, chemistry, agriculture, gastronomy, culture, and social psychology.

Years ago I earned certifications from the Society of Wine Educators, The Court of Master Sommeliers, and WSET, but I realized that the only way to complete my education on this topic would be to actually plant grapevines, harvest grapes, and make my own wine. But I didn’t have a place to plant the vineyard. Then, three years ago, my daughter and son-in-law let me plant a 60×60 vineyard on their property at Cedar Creek lake (60 miles east of Dallas). 

It’s been an interesting, exhilarating, and challenging project (beavers destroyed five vines; Black Rot stymied their growth; birds ate the red grapes, etc.), but in July we had our first harvest and in September we tasted the first fruit of the vine.

This project has reminded me of several important things: physical labor is refreshing; an enjoyable hobby is therapeutic; having a vision and seeing it come to fruition is very rewarding; nature is remarkable; and enjoying a nice meal with loved ones is wonderful. 

Here’s a video of our journey.