Ever since I graduated college, I kept a change bottle by my front door. I'm sure most of you have something similar you use at the end of the day when you empty your pockets or bag. Mine just stayed there until I took a handful of quarters to feed the meter, give it to kids – a coin or three at a time – at Halloween or just watched it grow until I couldn't take it any longer and resentfully hauled it to an unlucky merchant for an all-coin transaction.
My times, they-are-a-changin' (pun intended). These days, I still might deposit my loose change on the stand by my door but then I scoop it back up in the morning. Even the annoying pennies. For others, it may be nothing they noticed. But for me, it's a big deal. A sea change. I've gone from ignoring the small change to realizing I need it. (Does that make me small change?)
It once might have. But these days, every coin counts. As I get closer to retirement – and develop a deeper understanding of the practical rituals of retirement, both through my work and in my life as I age – I develop a deeper respect for those among us better prepared financially to actually retire.
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Some of the stories I edit for the Retirement Channel make me cringe. On Monday, one of our writers, Lisa Barron, contributed a story based on data from Gallup that found that fewer Americans are relying on their 401(k)s – actually a minority of those surveyed – as a major source of retirement than those before the Great Recession.
I know I don't. As I edit these stories, I start to think. What if another major-league depression ripped through our markets as I was turning 65? What then? Diversification only goes so far and, let's face it, the bond market might be a conservative and wise play but the yields are nothing to write home about.
Both of my parents were teachers and they urged me to become one. They said the summer vacations couldn't be beat, health care was taken care of for the rest of your life (then and in New York City, in any event) and that the pension would help me get through the last-third of my life. I, of course, being young and bent on pursuing journalism, didn't heed their advice. And, on an ever bleaker note, who's to say that in 2014 all that pensions promised workers in the past might not come delivered when due?
So, now I face the future with no pension and an ever-increasing desire to reach for the coin jar whenever I leave the house.
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