Randy Hall, Mr. Nice Guy Medicare Advisor

Medicare Insurance for Middle and West Tennessee

I was born to be…a Medicare broker?!

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Growing up as a kid in Detroit in the 1980’s and 90’s I dreamed about being several things: a sportscaster or sportswriter, a DJ (someone on the radio, think Wolfman Jack), an actor. As I got a little older some of these things lost their luster or I never seriously pursued the paths it would’ve taken to do any of these professions.

Probably like many kids and adolescents I had adults trying to entice or pique my curiosity with “realistic” life paths along the way. “Randy you could be a doctor!”, “how would you like to be a teacher?” or my great grandma, whom we called Oma, had me ticketed to be a Catholic priest! In high school my guidance counselor half-heartedly recommended I be a salesperson of some sort, which ironically, came the closest to where I find myself today.

Through happenstance I found myself being a Medicare broker in my mid-30’s in 2010. Like most of things I did to earn a living to that point in life it wasn’t the most intentional of paths. It just sort-of happened and I happened to be good at it.

Recently one of my colleagues told me a stat that sort of startled me. Within the first two years of getting their insurance license 92% of health insurance agents fail, i.e. leave the business and go back to working a regular job. Within the niche of selling Medicare, it’s right along those lines as well with a whopping 7-8% of those who start this line of work making it to Year 3!

So here I am in Year 14 of my career as a Medicare broker, and I wondered “Why me?” What was it about me that allowed me to not only survive, but thrive in this industry? Then it came to me that just about every job I’ve ever had until now was good training for working for myself and being a Medicare expert. As a person of faith, it became apparent to me that maybe I was led down this path and meant to be Mr. Nice Guy Medicare Advisor.

Growing up in Detroit my family were blue-collar and not wealthy by any means. This meant if I wanted to get anything more than the basics, I had to go earn money at an early age. The summer before my eighth-grade year I got up at an unholy hour to help my Dad on his newspaper delivery route to earn $3 or $4 per day. And once school started back, I’d help him on Sunday mornings for $5. Even in 1988 this wasn’t much money. Still, it showed me how hard my dad was working to make a living.

The following year I was old enough to start caddying at the local country club, Plum Hollow in Southfield, MI which was about 2 miles from where I grew up in Northwest Detroit. My uncles had been caddies there a decade or so prior to me. Also, one of my best friends and his sister already were lugging golf bags there, so I had an in.

The first year was rough as there were plenty of times I’d show up and either not get out or wait for hours before getting picked. Still, the pay was so far-and-away better than what my dad paid and the work so much easier (relatively speaking) that I was glad to do it.

What I came to realize was that it was a natural weeding-out process in a sense. Once you were an experienced caddie (they had ranks, and it took a year to go from newbie to captain and still another year and a certain number of rounds to become an honor caddie) golfers would request you or if the caddie-master knew you were good they’d set you up with the better paying golfers and get you out quickly. The rookie caddies (labeled ‘slashes’ by their more experienced peers) had to pay their dues. If you were a ‘slash’ life was much more difficult. But if you could weather-the-storm and come out the other side, you had it made, relatively speaking.

My second season as a caddie I got very fortunate and hooked on with a guy named Mr. Dan McDonald and became his permanent caddie for much of the next 5-6 years. There was a kid who was a senior in high school named Brad who was his caddie who was about to age out of the program, and I wisely ingratiated myself to him.

Pretty quickly we had an arrangement that he’d let me know when he was playing next and if I could be there, I’d caddy for him. Mr. McD, as I called him then, was a guy who owned a heating-and-cooling business and was a self-made guy who reminded me of many of the strong Catholic men I’d met growing up at church and going to a Catholic school, including my own grandfather. But he had a multi-faceted personality and big heart and taught me many things directly and indirectly.

For those who’ve read the Robert Kiyosaki book “Rich Dad, Poor Dad”, he would’ve been my “rich” Dad. During the prime golf playing months in Southeastern Michigan (April through October) and especially on summer breaks, I’d see Mr. McD more than my real father seemingly. Through him I got to see several things that were absent in my own life. He and his wife Mary had a fun, yet serious, marriage. My own parents were not aligned, to put it kindly.

He also was a successful businessman a good model for an adolescent like me. He made owning your own business and working for yourself look obtainable and not a struggle.

Through the years (I was his caddie for six golf seasons) he imparted a ton of wisdom both in terms of explicit words and mainly in his deeds. He treated me like one would treat their own kid (respectfully of course) and even when he was hard on me, it was clear it was because he cared. He was just an excellent human being, and he did this for multiple caddies over his time. I was very lucky to be one of them.

The next occupation was being a busboy and waiter. Once I got a car, I was mobile and able to work after school. That’s the rub, once you have transportation it made it necessary to work to pay for said transportation. So firstly, I worked at the same country club I caddied at my senior year of high school once the weather turned (September and October).

My very first day on the job I was quickly introduced to the world of foodservice and christened the occasion by spilling about six fully loaded glasses of water on one of the guests due to not being able to balance a full-tray on my first day. Talk about being thrown from the fire into the frying pan immediately! I didn’t have much time to process the trauma as I immediately had to figure out how to get food out to guests and then remove the plates once they were done with them. At 17 this was an entirely new concept to me.

Anyhow, I was part of a crew of other busboys (several also caddies like me) so I learned the value of teamwork and having to serve under the waiters and waitresses whom it was my job to assist. You know, basic stuff they really don’t teach you in school.

I left the country club and wound up taking a job at a family restaurant near my home in the winter as there wasn’t enough hours at the country club to make it worth my while post-Christmas and I needed money consistently.

They hired me as a busboy too, but within a week they determined I had the personality to be a waiter instead. This was my first experience in the workplace of promotion, which was a vaguely gratifying feeling, along with a bit of a pay-bump.

If you’ve never waited on the public let me, tell you: it’s a bit of an education. You’ll meet all kinds of people, and you can tell much about others from how they treat the ones who serve them. Good, bad and ugly.

Me being a people-pleaser already, I also had it beaten into me at Catholic school to be submissive and conscientious, so being a waiter was a mixed bag for me. Once I got good at it, I had many folks who would come in and request me to wait on them, which was great. What wasn’t so great was those who were jerks to me and I didn’t have the life-experience to realize the problem was almost always them and not me. On the plus side, it did give me the life-experience to deal with all different types of folks and really connected with many of the customers whom I got to know.

Throughout my 20’s I was a waiter at family restaurants, the Ritz Carlton, Macaroni Grille, and a few other fine-dining restaurants. It taught me people skills, coping skills and how to work hard. All-in-all a definite net positive.

When I was 23, I started dating a girl who I worked with at the family restaurant with who actually set me on a course of the Monday through Friday, 9-to-5 type job that is the backbone of our white-collar American society. She was the first person to get me to seriously question the direction of my life in the restaurant industry and through her friends got me to be a file-clerk at a mid-size accounting agency where I’d have a salary (a crappy one, but hey, I was young 😊), some medical benefits and have the weekends to myself for the first time since childhood.

There were some stark differences between this slice of corporate America and the restaurant business. Instead of being tipped, where effort and attitude typically correlated to better pay, here you had to ingratiate yourself to management to have an easier path as a worker. My manager, Jeanie, was quite the character, but not a fun or easy manager to work under. I quickly figured out that a bad manager could make a job that wasn’t that bad feel like it was akin to forced labor. Me, being someone who likes to give people the benefit-of-the-doubt, especially those in authority positions at that age, it took me awhile to work out an exit strategy, in the form of another promotion.

While doing my job better than any of the other file clerks within weeks, I got to know the manager of the secretaries (administrative assistants for those who prefer that term), a nice lady named Lori, and befriended many of the accountants with my positive outlook and can-do attitude.

Without getting too much in-the-weeds of interoffice politics of this firm, I found an opportunity to become an administrative assistant quickly and not have to deal with Jeanie but be supervised by Lori instead and get a pay raise. At this point I got see how a job that wasn’t glamorous was made fun by someone who was your advocate in Lori. While I had no formal training in being an administrative assistant she taught me specifically what I needed to know and trusted that I’d grow into the role and give it my all, which I did.

Being an administrative assistant taught me how to navigate a more professional environment and how to organize my time and energy way more efficiently, as I was thrown into the deep end during tax season at this accounting firm. I also learned many of the tricks and ways to conduct yourself I use today to conduct myself in a professional manner, but also to work with others. Key was keeping the schedule for several accountants and how to run an appointment in terms of setting it up. In hindsight this was great to learn as I’ve been setting up my own appointments for 14 years now.

After a year plus there, I was fired for a dumb prank that went awry. As horrible as it felt being let go, it served as a springboard to my next work experience, which, is my favorite, other than working for myself. Through a connection of my friend Jeff Hupp, I was hired as an administrative assistant for J. Walter Thompson in downtown Detroit to the Regional Advertising Force department of JWT.

The RAF team wrote, directed and produced all the Ford ads locally and nationally through our department. It was a great place to work, even when I was there at the time and in hindsight. The guys who interviewed and ultimately decided to hire me were John Kmiecik and Jim VanderEyk. They oversaw the copywriters, art directors and producers who were all integral to the creation of the ads we all see on TV. Naturally, I knew next-to-nothing about advertising, but they saw in me a fellow creative (I produced my own local cable TV show with my best friend) who had just enough experience to be able to work with the eclectic bunch of people who constituted their team. In fact, one of the chief reasons they went with me was the nature of the dumb prank that got me fired from the accounting firm and my forthright honesty about it. Talk about taking lemons and making some sweet lemonade!

For a little over six years, I assisted them in facilitating the running of the nuts-and-bolts of the department. Booking travel, processing expense reports, answering phones for the managers, scheduling meetings, and other necessary administrative tasks.

Over the years I met some of the coolest, most remarkable people I’ve ever known and am friends remotely (via Facebook mostly) with to this day. Everybody from Elmore Leonard’s song Bill to my fellow administrative assistants, to folks in the accounting department (what is it with me and accountants?). I was blessed to work with excellent folks in an environment that fostered my personal creativity while showcasing my blend of humor and hard-working professionalism to an, on-the-face-of-it, pretty unglamorous job. But they made me feel honored and fulfilled all the years I did it. If I ever wrote a TV show that’s like “The Office”-meets- “Mad Men” it’d be based on the excellent work experience I had there!

Also, in 2001 I became a certified handwriting expert, graphologist, and would moonlight working events by analyzing the cursive handwriting of strangers for “intellectual entertainment”. This was my first small business. Although I didn’t have enough time to do the graphology full-time, I worked for myself to get word out that I had the requisite skills to be hired by those who were interested in what I had to offer. It was an excellent “side hustle” and part-time, professional work that was a precursor to the job of Medicare broker. I would also analyze someone’s writing the way I analyze someone’s Medicare insurance today!

Come Thanksgiving 2006 my relationship with my longtime girlfriend ended at the exact time my best friend Dan Minard was visiting me after moving to Nashville, TN earlier that year to pursue his musician muse. I had long felt a feeling of stagnation and hated the colder climate of Southeastern Michigan and Dan presented the idea of moving to Tennessee to room with him and making a life change in the warmer environs of Nashville. He correctly pointed out that if I gave it a try and didn’t like the change that I could return to Michigan.

After sleeping on it overnight I felt the impulse to give it a shot. At that point I didn’t have a kid or a significant other to keep me there and if I didn’t do it now, it would more likely be never. I told him I’d give it 2 years and see how it went. If nothing else, it would be a memorable chapter in my life.

I had to wait until I got my tax return refund (that’s how poor I was), but on February 7th, 2007th me and my good friends Tim and Michelle Luttman moved me to Nashville, TN for the grand adventure.

I had no job lined up, but my sister Kathy at the time worked for a temp agency, Kelly Services, that had a Nashville office who set me up with my first assignment at Genworth Financial in their Medicare Supplement division as an agent helpline rep for their agents in the field throughout the U.S. Did I have any experience whatsoever in insurance, let alone Medicare? Absolutely none. But I proved to be a quick study and within a few weeks they offered me the job full-time, at a salary greater than what I made at JWT when I left!

Quickly, with the help of a few great ladies named Joan Maguire and Rose Faulkner, I learned enough about Medicare to be dangerous. As fate would have it, about three or four months into this new job, someone in the Agent Recruiter department got let go, opening a position where I’d be recruiting agents through the US to sell Genworth’s Medicare Supplement product. This position was a huge opportunity for me since I’d still have my same salary, but also, I’d get overrides on whatever my agents sold, which turned out to be some real money (at least to me at that point in life).

In the short run it was an opportunity to really improve my income, but in the long run I got to learn the Medicare business intimately and pick the brain of agents who were out there selling and making a living. I befriended many good people who were kind enough to tell me if I got my license, I might make a good agent myself one day.

Well under some initiative my bosses’ boss at Genworth had where we’d know what the agents we were recruiting were going through, my department of three (including me) were put into a week-long insurance school and then took our life and health license test to become licensed agents ourselves.

I passed and got my license in fall of 2008, which was fortuitous as when Genworth was undergoing financial strain and cost-cutting in January 2010, my entire department (again all 3 of us) was laid off. Eventually things got so bad for Genworth that they sold the whole Medicare Supplement division to Aetna. For the purposes of this story, I was unemployed that fateful day in 2010 with an uncertain future to say the least.

I had spoken to and theorized I could become an independent agent at some point, but I had just gotten married in May 2009, and we’d bought our first home in August of that year. My wife had a steady job and encouraged me, since I already had my license, to start talking to my agent buddies and figure out the best way to become an agent.

Quickly, I got licensed with as many Medicare companies as I could and began to buy leads. Due to all my prior experiences, it felt natural being a Medicare agent. Being a caddie and waiter taught me how to work with the public and many kinds of people, from many walks-of-life. Being an administrative assistant taught me how to do the basics of scheduling and how to act professionally. Working in advertising taught me the ins-and-outs of how to market myself. Being a handwriting expert taught me I could run one-man business and be a certified professional.  Finally, working as a direct agent recruiter put me in direct contact with the very people who were doing what I’ve been doing for the past 14 years and helped me save years of figuring out many things myself.

Combined with my determination to prove my former employers made a mistake, I committed myself to being the best Medicare agent I could be. The first 2 years were tough (remember that stat that said 92% of people in my industry quit in the first 24 months), but I hung in there and sold enough to get me to the next year until sometime in year 3 I caught a break and enrolled over 150 clients in one enrollment season. At that point I became established enough that I knew I’d be able to sustain myself enough to continue to do this.

Of all the jobs I’ve ever had, this is my favorite one. I have more control over my time and know that I’m truly helping people for a living. Like any profession it has it’s good points and bad points, but overall this one is the best combination of pay, job satisfaction, and autonomy. I don’t think most would glamorize or pick this line-of-work but in hindsight it took all the skills and previous experience of mine and combined it into the perfect role for me. As someone wiser than me put it: Joy isn’t getting everything you want, it’s enjoying what you create. On second thought, maybe I did come up with that one 😊!

Who would ever expect to go from this to a Medicare Advisor?!

The Tale of 2 Companies: Customer Service vs. Customer (Dis)Service

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Bad omen?

Aaron Rodgers has better taste in companies to pitch

Recently I had a brutal customer service experience. My family was travelling to our annual vacation spot in The Gulf of Mexico to Florida. Anyhow, heading south from Franklin, Tennessee we had just gotten past Atlanta and wanted to let our kids get a chance to run around after being in the minivan for hours. Headed down the surface road just off Hwy. 75, we were T-boned by a young guy in his 20’s who somehow didn’t see our van. This caused extensive damage to the passenger side front door and some mild damage to the sliding door.

Miraculously the 2 doors were able to open and close and function. Also, grace to God, no one was hurt. We were able to head all the way to Florida and back for the vacation and take the car in to be repaired upon returning to Franklin, TN. Admittedly it could’ve been way worse. As a client of mine once said “You were about as lucky as you were unlucky”.

Since it was the other driver’s fault 100%, his insurance company was on-the-hook for everything. He had State Farm, which has been great to work with. That, to me, is how customer service should be. They let us pick the place to take our minivan out of ten different shops near us. They also replaced all 3 kids car seats and reimbursed us rapidly. They also let us rent a replacement vehicle, at their cost, from the company that inspired this article. I won’t say the company’s name but it starts with ‘H’, ends in ‘Z’ and OJ Simpson used to shill for them.

Calling the main office to set up the rental went swimmingly and was easy. They said they’d even come and pick me up if I told them what time I was dropping off my car, which is where the adventure starts. Still unsure what day the autobody place would take our van, I informed them I’d let them know when they let me know. They said to call the local pickup location directly to set that up and it would make things go smoother and they gave me the number. This call took place on a Wednesday.

Friday, two days later, I was told to bring my van into the autobody place the upcoming Tuesday at 9:30 am or later. My next call was to the local pickup location and the phone rang-and-rang. It must’ve rung about 10 times. Finally, an automated message says they’re unable to answer the phone and call later. Unbelievably I can’t even leave a message for a callback! Me, being persistent, call back two more times and the same crap happens. Being Mr. Nice Guy, I decide, hey, it’s Friday they must be busy and will try again in a few hours. A few hours later the same, maddening cycle repeats itself. Short of driving there (they’re located on a busy road on a notoriously jammed up all the time), I have no way to reach them directly it would seem.

I had an appointment with a client, so I resolved to call tomorrow.  I try again Saturday morning and afternoon and it’s the same BS. At this point I’m just annoyed and call the main number where I at least got a human and was able to reserve the car. They say they can do it but it’s better to get the actual location to ensure they get my pickup on their end. I tell them my experience and they say they’ll try and call too. They put me on hold to try and call them themselves, to no avail. It’s the same insanity when they try.

At this point they input my desire to get picked up Tuesday morning from their end and say I should try and touch base with the local pickup location just to be sure. I tell them it’s not my fault I can’t touch base and to have a manager try and get these nimrods to answer their phone. The representative says she will and I leave it at that for the day, other than trying to call my local pickup location 2 more times and getting nowhere.

Monday comes and I have way too much going on to stop by personally (which in hindsight I wish I’d done). I do attempt to call several more times and something different does happen finally. Instead of it going to their off-putting message, it forwards me to the main corporate office! I confirm that I’m supposed to be picked up the next day at the autobody shop at 9:30 a.m. and it’s indeed in the reservation. So that gives me optimism (because I want to be that way) that I’m set.

The next morning comes and I get to the autobody place about 9:00 a.m. and just for sport, at this point I call the local pickup location. Again, it immediately forwards to the corporate office and talk to an agent there after being on hold for 15 minutes who tells me it’s showing in their reservation that I’m to be picked up at 9:30 and to be patient until then. I tell them I was just trying to talk to the local pickup office and it forwarded to them when I called.

Having planned on reading a book, I proceed to do that while I wait. 9:30 comes-and-goes. 9:45, same, no sign of a pickup. 10, nothing. 10:30 I start calling again as the guys at the autobody shop start asking me if my ride’s coming. It forwards again to the corporate office and after being on hold for 20 minutes I share that no one has come to get me and when I try and call their freaking number it sends me to them. I fancy myself a patient and caring person, but by this time I’m just done.

The rep proceeds to tell me that since this reservation is being paid for by an insurance company, not me, there’s a different department I’m supposed to be dealing with. This is news to me! They then transfer me and the lady listens to my, by now, elaborate story. She’s very disturbed by my tale of woe and tells me she’ll call me back and try to get a manager to get ahold of someone at the local pickup location to come and get me.

At this point it’s almost lunchtime and since there’s one of those fancy gas stations with real food next door I decide to try and at least get some food, as not only is it hot (it’s August in the South), I’m starting to get hangry (hungry-and-angry for the uninformed). While in the store I get some lunch and a drink and have the brainstorm to send a text to the number I’ve been calling and see if that prompts them to answer the phone. So, I shot off the following text: Will you answer your phone please (prayer hands emoji)?

SOS!

After sending it, I give it a minute and call. A man’s voice answers. I’m almost too stunned to talk. It’s hard to believe that actually worked! I stammer out that I have a reservation and was supposed to be picked up at 9:30 (nearly 2 hours ago) and had no luck getting ahold of him. He weakly says it’s been very busy and at this point I don’t want him to hang up, I just need someone to come and get me from the autobody store. He says that he knows where that is and will have the driver come straight away. Hallelujah! I’m not going to have to call Uber after all and storm in there in a very ‘Un-Nice Guy’ way!

The driver shows up about 20 minutes later and is about as nice a guy as you’d hope for. He’s a senior working this job for some extra money and something to do with his days named Roger. Quickly it’s apparent Roger isn’t in charge of answering the phones over there. He’s a solution in a sea of problems. On our ride to get my rental we talk and I give him a Cliff’s Notes version of the blow-by-blow you may have just read through. He naturally feels sorry for me and is apologetic. I strive to be fair-minded and not be upset at the people who are doing their job well so I just tell him that he’s great and they need more like him. The weirdest, most maddening thing, of the whole ordeal was there was no way for me to leave a message for a callback.

He tells me that he’s not allowed to answer the phone but he hears it ringing all the time when they’re busy and it drives him crazy. We talk and I share what I do and give him my card (because you never know) and tell him how glad I am that he at least was a pleasant part of this entire experience.

The point of telling you all that, I suppose, is so it’s apparent how many times I tried to meet this company half-way. Breaking it down, the corporate office and driver and original reservation-taking team were actually good. But, as the saying goes, you can only be as strong as your weakest link. It wasn’t until my text inexplicably got the local pickup location to answer their phone that I was able to get the problem solved. It’s bananas that there wasn’t a reasonable workaround for one bottleneck (the local pickup location). On the other hand, you had the tremendous experience we enjoyed with State Farm, which was first class all the way. It was 2 completely different ways to handle folks like me and my family, with problems.

What this entire experience did was allow me to reflect on my own standards of service. I’ve been at this for going on eleven years and have to help people with issues when they arise with various insurance companies. Every company out there has issues, believe it or not. I’m like the triage for such problems and why having an agent is helpful (or ought to be). There are things I’ve learned in my experience that my clients wouldn’t have a chance to know. I can save them untold amounts of frustration and wasted time by being their advocate and knowing where to go to fix things. And if I don’t know, I find out. That’s what the commission I earn is for.

Even though I have many clients, every individual one is important. The key to the many is the one. What that means to me is I treat everyone with care and will go to the mat with a company if need be to help any one of them. If I had the opposite attitude, that ‘what difference does one dissatisfied customer make?’ I see in so many companies, it would make me a thief in a sense. The money I get from the companies in commissions to help them would be more-or-less stolen. Furthermore, I take pride in calling my clients back within 24 hours or less, and solving problems or giving them good advice. I’m a huge believer in ‘The Golden Rule’ too.

“I called Randy when he was on vacation and he helped me figure out why my doctor charged my co-pay wrong” – Kathy Haney in Fairview, TN

Okay, okay you caught me bragging on myself a little bit. But that’s what a good agent is supposed to do. I strive to serve everybody like I helped Kathy Haney. Kinda like State Farm was when dealing with them.

Conversely, if the car rental place would’ve just answered my call once when I was trying to arrange a pickup this entire article wouldn’t exist. I’ve realized in 11 years that doing things as they come up, quickly and with a ‘nice’ attitude that even when things go wrong (face it no one’s perfect) the problems are generally way easier to deal with. By being like an ostrich and sticking your head in the sand and hoping it works itself out, you only invite reasonable people to act unreasonably when things go awry. Now, if we could only get government agencies like Medicare itself to read this…😊

What I Learned During the Quarantine of 2020

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It’s been way too long since I’ve been able to write an article for the website. I wish I could tell you it was simply me being lazy and Netflix-and-chilling. It’s been a time for learning lessons here at the Hall household during Quarantine of 2020. In actuality, I’ve been tied up helping my wife adjust to working-from-home while we have all three of our young children, ages 7, 4 and 18 months, be home due to school being cancelled and daycare being for essential workers until just this week. Now that the 2 young ones are in daycare for several days-a-week I’m able to provide this article, so lucky you 😉.

Now, I’m not complaining or venting, in fact the point of this is to do the opposite. It has made me realize how lucky I am that due to being a Medicare broker that my family is afforded the luxury of me being able to be there for them in a daily capacity. For so many worldwide, the strain of having to work-from-home while home-schooling, babysitting and non-stop being around your family is a recipe for disaster and poor mental health. It’s clear to me that quarantining is not healthy for the vast majority of us.

Because I can serve my clients by phone and we didn’t have this happen during my busy season, (October 1st through December 7th) I’ve been able to enroll and do my job remotely when time calls for it. My wife, who has a more demanding job than me, and I have been able to coordinate and cooperate to make sure we can keep those plates spinning 😊. All 5 of us here have been able to social distance responsibly and not put ourselves, or the people we interact with, in harms way. All of us are totally healthy, most thankfully.

The biggest thing I’ve learned during this Quarantine of 2020 has been to be grateful. Grateful for our circumstances being about as good as one could expect in a time of crisis. Grateful our marriage has been a true partnership and has not only survived through this, but actually deepened. Grateful for our kids and having a special opportunity to see them grow and be around them much more at such a critical, impressionable age. Is it neat, clean and easy? Absolutely not, but it’s been awesome to witness them and take in the small, daily interactions that help bond a family, both individually with each one and collectively as a small gang. Another cool off-shoot of this was our extended family started to do a Zoom call every week so we could all check-in on each other, since we couldn’t be together in the same rooms.

It also has taught me not to take my current clients for granted. Without them using me as an agent we could’ve been financially strapped and stressed while we waited for the okay to come out the last three months. Because of them and how this business works (residuals as opposed to getting a paycheck), we were minimally affected. Also, due to referrals and word-of-mouth of my clients I’ve been able to sign up and help by phone and over Zoom just about the same amount of folks I typically help during a non-enrollment period. Without my clients telling their friends and family about The Nice Guy it’s unlikely that would’ve been the case.

This has made for some non-stop days and nights, mainly due to the 18-month old needing constant supervision, but things have been happy and healthy for the most part. This has also helped give me the gift of acceptance. The Stoics always spoke of only investing yourself emotionally into things you had control over and this situation has really helped illustrate that point to me. Would I have chosen to be stuck at home 24/7 with my family for months? Would I have lit the economy on fire and left millions of Americans wondering about where their next meal is coming from? Or if someone coughs or sneezes wondering if it’s going to kill someone down-the-line? A most resounding ‘no’. Still, nobody ran it by me or any of us. We had to subvert ourselves to the circumstances for the greater good whether we were ready or not.

So given this setup, I chose, personally, to embrace it for what it was and got quite a bit out-of-it. Writing this may be a bit premature given we may not be out-of-the-woods yet, but if we have to do this whole mess again, I’ll make the same decision. To accept and embrace the things I can control and change (mostly my outlook and attitude toward the situation), and make the most of it. Trying to do much more than that seems like a foolish pursuit and I don’t know about you, but my Mom didn’t raise a fool! 😊 Speaking of which: Hey Mom, we miss you!

My Long Strange Relationship With Money

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I’m not lacking the requisite self-awareness to acknowledge each of us has a relationship with money. What strikes me is how I’ve been seemingly pre-occupied with money from a young age. From the first time my Mom handed me a $20 bill to go pay our bill at Big Boy as a young kid to get the change until now at 44, it’s dominated way too much of my thought process. Between money and sex, it’s a two-way tie for most amount mental bandwidth with the least amount of tangible results.

Wasn’t it Marvin Gaye who said “one-way love is just a fantasy”, or something like that? For the vast majority of my existence I’d think about money, but it doesn’t give a rip about me. If we wanted to get all philosophical or existential, what is money even? If we pulled that thread we’d probably be pretty disappointed to find out that it’s mostly an idea some powerful people agreed had value to keep society from being a chaotic shambles. Or a way to barter and exchange goods and services in an agreed upon way. But I digress, as that’s not what I came to write about.

As I’ve been going through a lot of book learnin’ and knowledge-seeking this past year it’s started to dawn on me that this shared illusion has created a weird, stressed out, often overworked society and culture here in America. But the nature of the work isn’t labor-of-love. That would be more understandable.

In fact, it’s ‘can barely-stand’ for most people, which is astounding to contemplate. Think about it, most of your contemporaries go to a job they tolerate at best, loathe in many instances, to make a living. Who decided this is the way it should be? What institution has so covered the wool over our collective eyes that 90% of the US suffers most of our waking hours to buy crap they don’t need or support a family they hardly get to see because they have to make money? It’s a giant, unnecessary circle jerk.

All of that’s pretty macro, now it’s time to get micro. Myself, I have the luxury of working when I want, if I want, with who I want (for the most part). Am I some overheated MLM’er about to tell you about my ‘opportunity’? Hell no! I’m just a regular guy who has a wife, 3 kids and lives in the suburbs of Nashville, TN (Franklin, to be exact).

Ten years ago, I was laid off from my job as a recruiter for Genworth Financial Medicare Supplement Division. All I had was my life-and-health-license, 6 months of unemployment, my wife and a dream. At that point I became an independent Medicare broker, which is what I am, and still am, today. Because I’d been recruiting agents like myself, I knew where to start, how to sell and had a general sense of how to get into my particular industry. And I had the wherewithal and personal belief to go ahead and present to people and go meet them in their homes. Over-and-over again. Hundreds, and by now, thousands of times.

But the selling was the easy part, relatively speaking. I know my stuff and how to do the job. Setting and getting appointments was the challenge. I had to learn to be charming and earn a modicum of trust over the phone enough to get in front of folks.

But back to the money part, all my life that I can remember I’ve worked. At ten my Mom told me when I was trying to convince her to buy me some nonsense my friends had that I wanted, “Randy, you can have anything you want. You just have to be the one to buy it”. Now we can debate whether or not that’s the best lesson to teach an impressionable kid, but the effect it had on me was profound.

From that point on I made it point to earn money just about any chance I got. From shoveling snow, to selling toys I didn’t want anymore (before the internet and EBay mind you), to stealing from my Dad, I learned to rely on myself to buy just about anything I could afford that I desired. Early on it was junk food from the corner store, later to become music to clothes, I got my own shit. I was lousy at saving, which is something my wife and I hope to teach to our kids coming up here. I was worse at giving. For me, those were two concepts that I struggled with for the longest time. Saving and giving were two things that took the longest to come to. The way I figured it was if I had to work for it, so should the less fortunate. I found a way, why can’t they? I’m not saying I should’ve felt that way, just that’s where my head was at for the longest time.

As I matriculated out of the education system, I had a stronger work ethic than I did a desire for higher education. Which wasn’t that worst thing, considering my brother, and scores of others like him, have tens of thousands in student loans they have little hope of paying back in their lifetimes. I can see that happening to me if I’d have gone down that road as I never wanted to go to school for anything in particular. It’s fairly likely my degree would’ve likely not been in anything worth paying four years of college for.

Because I only had a high school diploma and some college my prospects in the traditional working, career-driven, world have been limited. In retrospect maybe that was a blessing in disguise, because once you’re indoctrinated into the corporate machine of raises and promotions it’s a dangerous and soul-sucking place to be. Seduced by the game and the ostensibly successful world it pulls you into.

I drifted from working in restaurants as a server to administrative work in office settings until I moved to Tennessee at 31. All the while I barely made a working wage and supplemented my meager income with Handwriting Analysis gigs and catering jobs. Had I continued on that path it’s inevitable I’d be one of the aforementioned 90% who are making a living any way they can manage, with no mindful purpose. For most in this situation it’s a matter of being too scared to leave the comfort of a reliable paycheck (especially if you have a family) for the unknown of finding more meaningful, perhaps better-paying work. Or maybe being willing to downsize their lives and live with less and work less and enjoy their lives more and at least get more life satisfaction out of the bargain.

The other factor that comes into play, even for executive-level people, or those with high-paying jobs, is the lifestyle creep that happens when you live in a nicer area, or socialize with people in your socio-economic strata (which, typically happens because birds of a feather tend to flock together). You could be making several times more than I was when I was in my 20’s and have the same amount of security economically (which is little) because to keep-up-with-the-Jones’ it costs way more. From your home, to your clothes, to the schools you send little Johnny and Megan too, just because you make more doesn’t mean you have money. Ironically, to keep up appearances, you usually just wind up with nicer crap and more credit-card bills and more bondage.

Now back to me. I’m kind of a weirdo who marches to the beat of his own drummer. I had the advantage of growing up poor, so I’ve never felt the need to keep-up-with-anybody. I’ve lived hand-to-mouth and paycheck-to-paycheck for most of my life. I realized a long time ago how little strangers and neighbors actually care about me. It’s nothing personal, it’s just how most of us in this culture are programmed or brought up. I’m hardly any better at such things. The fact is most others are too busy worried about what everybody else thinks about them to consider my style or circumstances.

As my income rose and I began to make six figures (my wife also does well for herself), I never went ahead and got a fancy car (now I buy my car outright instead of financing it, which in the long run makes me richer). I have a great house, but if I wanted to upgrade, we could easily get one. My clothes? I wear decent stuff I mostly buy on-sale, but nothing designer and I’ve never been a jewelry guy. As my financial situation improved, and continues to do so, my lifestyle, such as it is, remains mostly the same.

Where my family does splurge is going on vacations. We get away as a family several times a year and never go in-debt to do it. When I was growing up our idea of a vacation was camping. Seriously. In my 20’s all I ever did was stay-cations. So now that I can do it, we go for it. And we get the hell out of Tennessee to recharge and refresh (unless we go to Gatlinburg, Tn 😊).

Since I have plenty to live on, and more, from a monetary standpoint, I’ve chosen to work less and enjoy my life more. For a long time, I felt guilty not adhering to the 40-hour, or more,-a-week mindset. Like I was shirking some imaginary supervisor by golfing three times a week instead of making mind-numbing sales calls. As if anyone, other than myself, actively cared how much time I spent actually working! What I found was when people called me, I was very responsive, and I still am. What I didn’t have naturally was the desire to go work for works sake, and this perplexed me.

Even though I knew it was silly or ridiculous, it was a feeling that refused to be shaken. Like when a soldier has survivors-guilt when he makes it, but his company-mate doesn’t, only much less serious. I’d feel like my friend or family who was struggling to make it and had no personal time was more virtuous than me and I was doing-whatever-the-hell I wanted. Like writing this long-ass essay. Too often I felt like an over-priviledged layabout.

Then last year happened. And my perspective shifted completely. As fate would have it, my mother-in-law was diagnosed, at first, with something called Executive Function Disorder (think ADD for adults) which eventually evolved to dementia and she could no longer live on her own. At that point, my wife and I had to deal with her house, and her belongings, in addition to moving her into a nursing home. We had no idea the sheer amount of crap she’d accumulated in the ten years since her husband had passed. This woman must’ve been spending and shopping nearly every chance she got. It was staggering how many clothes, jewelry, random stuff and garage-estate sale items we had to sort through.

I thought to myself, “I’ve heard of Minimilism, but Beth must be a Maximaxlist. She’s got at least five of everything!”. That was thing. Because of the nature of her condition, she’d constantly forget (or maybe misplaced) what she’d bought before and continued to buy the same item or items repeatedly. She had quite the horde. Listening to a Dave Ramsey video led me to stumble across a pair of good friends who go by “The Minimalists”, Joshua Fields Milburn and Ryan Nicodemus. What a discovery! Through their ethos, and well-presented documentary and books it made me look at life through a new perspective that maybe I was doing several things right that I thought I was doing wrong, and doing many things wrong I believed I was doing right. Internally, it helped me resolve a lot of my circumstances and see them for the true gift they are.

First off, money and what it represents, or even why it’s important (or not as important). I began to question things that never really occurred to me consciously. What even was important or of value to me? What choices I was making about how to live my life and why. Was I living a life of intention or one of drifting?

Since this essay is about money, we’ll pretty much stick to that and what that’s related to. Through the Minimalists I discovered F.I.R.E. (Financial Independent Retire Early) and the F.I. (Financial Independence) community. I discovered Vicki Robin’s “Your Money, or Your Life”. So many of the feelings of being lost, feeling inadequate and confused over the years, despite all the outward appearances of ostensible success, started to form together and I could name my pain, or at least why I’d been feeling the way I had. And how unnecessary it was to live your life thinking, or caring, how others judged me. Even if the random person thought less of me, what did it matter? As long as I was there and doing things for the betterment of my family and friends, what difference did it make? And thinking I had to have certain possessions or things to be complete? That was absurd.

This society, this culture, is set up, from an incredibly young age, for all the participants to feel less-than or like they need all the things and status signifiers to feel whole. But there is no end to it. It’s an endless maze. An ultimately fruitless pursuit. All so huge corporations can continually profit from the machine that’s been running and mutating since post-WW2. Consumer culture and Western ethos, has perverted everything from medicine and health to the jobs we unhappily work, to the debt we accrue to pay for the whole stinking thing. We all participate whether we’re aware of it or not.

My feelings of angst and discomfort were born from playing a game no one is designed to win, that I was unaware I’d even signed up for. I was on the ride and the more I read, the more I wanted to get off. Is this why Jeremiah Johnson did what he did way back in the 1970’s? Or Leo’s character in “The Revenant”? My life is no Hollywood script. I just wanted to know why I had all the money and comfort I’d ever dreamed of, a great spouse and three healthy beautiful children, could do most anything I wanted and worked from home for myself helping people in a noble profession and still felt unsatisfied. That I was somehow lacking something. Somewhere I was missing out. And feeling everybody was judging me harshly for it, when I was the only one doing anything like that.

I began digging into these books, podcasts, videos and teachings and slowly the scales began to fall from my eyes as I began to connect to the dots and come to some realizations:
1. You can design your life the way you want. Nobody can tell you what to do or how to feel. Furthermore, most people would probably love to have the options and freedom I have. Don’t waste or squander this opportunity by feeling guilty about it. If someone judges you harshly that’s their issue, not yours. Odds are few will give a shit.
2. I had the freedom to run my business and help people for the right reasons without needing to unduly bias them. If I can make their situation better I happily do so and do a service to them and me. If they’re in the best scenario for them, let them know and don’t talk them into something worse or they don’t want. Furthermore, I strive to make mistakes of effort, not mistakes of neglect. Stuff gets messed up and needs fixing but I don’t want to go into something knowing there’s a problem I’ll have to fix or explain about later.
3. I desired very little I didn’t already have. In fact, listening to “The Minimalists”, made me realize I wanted to downsize and get rid of a lot of stuff that wasn’t serving me. Once our house is paid off and my kids are no longer in daycare there will be plenty of money to enjoy my life doing the simple things I enjoy most: walking, listening to podcasts, writing, playing video games, and spending quality time with my family. Come to think of it, I have plenty of that as it is, with daycare and a mortgage to pay.
4. Through “Your Money Or Your Life” it got across to me that my time was more valuable than money. It’s finite. Why waste it doing things you hate if you don’t have to (sometimes you have to and that’s part of life) and can afford not to?
5. Through the Financial Independence (F.I.) movement I realized I’m already no longer doing mandatory work. I could literally just keep my current client base and service my referral base and have more than enough to live on since my industry in renewal-based. Luckily, I enjoy what I do and helping people understand their Medicare options is second-nature to me. I don’t know why I’d leave my industry at this point. I work by choice, not by obligation, which to me, is ideal. And if I don’t want to work, that’s always an option. In essence, I’m already F.I. as far as what I consider F.I. to be!

As my income has increased, my desires and money I actually spend has gone down. Now we do have three small kids (7, 4 and 1 years old as of this writing) and that’s expensive, but my wife and I are set up for the rest of our lives about as well as can be, short of being ‘rich’. But my life is rich. Rich in love. Rich in freedom. Rich in learning.

I’ll leave you with this thought, what if money was just a trick, a red herring? What if society hadn’t obscured your moral compass and what you knew to be truly important? What if you didn’t have to look for every life hack, or side hustle just to be able to enjoy your life once-in-a-while? It all starts with a reframe, and goes from there. Would you consciously choose to lead a life trying to chase and fulfill ephemera like nice clothes, cars, private schools, fancy homes, etc.? Does getting these things, at the cost of your time, money, much of your freedom, and your attention, worth the effort and energy you pour into it? For me the answer was an emphatic no.

Importance and self-worth aren’t derived from a number in a bank account, no matter how awesome or depressing that figure may be. Your life is yours, and you’re free to live it how you see fit. On your deathbed nobody asks how many hours you worked or how much money you made. Your life’s impact is best shown by how many people are sad you’re gone and will continue to carry your legacy forward.

You Can’t Have It All, But You Can Like What You Have

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Forgive me if this sounds like common sense, but nobody can have it all, no matter how much money or how many resources you have. There are opportunity costs for everybody. To have one thing, you are giving up many others.

For example, you can’t be a workaholic and expect to be a phenomenal family man or Mom-Of-The-Year. If you wanted to read 100 books this year AND be in the best shape of your life, it might mean you have to not be able to run a brand new, start-up business, which is usually very time intensive.

Every one of us has to pick-and-chose what to focus on and what’s important to us. I’m not saying don’t try to maximize your potential and be the best version of yourself, whatever-that-may-be. The simple, unavoidable fact is we are all limited to the same one body and 24 hours in-a-day. We all must make choices at the expense of other things, like-it-or-not.

How then, does this apply to insurance? And in my client’s case, Medicare insurance specifically? Not long ago I received a call from a lady who said, “I was talking to my sister and she has one of those zero premium deals and that sounds good. I’m paying two hundred bucks a month and it’s knocking me in the creek! (This was her actual phrase, which I thought was great) I also want a plan where I don’t have any co-pays, I can go to any doctor and my drug plan is included. And do they have one where it has extra stuff like gym memberships, dental and vision coverage too?”

Luckily this lady’s example is rare, as in ten years of doing this I’d never had someone sound so entitled and out-of-touch with how insurance works. I asked her if she was on Medicaid and well as Medicare, as I could help her get what she was looking for better if she did. She wasn’t. She had Original Medicare and was paying the $200 bucks for a Medicare Supplement and another $45 for a stand-alone Part D Prescription Drug Plan.

So back to the original point, I explained that there were two basic ways of getting Medicare coverage (to see that broken down click here). There were opportunity costs for either one. In essence, if she wanted the freedom of what she already had, of no-co-pays and the ability to see anybody who’d see Medicare patients she was going to have to pay a premium (literally and figuratively).

If she was looking to not pay a premium, she was going to have to deal with the uncertainty of co-pays and having a network of doctors, which I could see if her doctors were participating in. On the plus side, she’d get a host of extra benefits she wasn’t getting now. But no plan existed that met all her imaginary criteria. After I explained to her the basic differences between the two options, she had more realistic expectations of what to expect and also got to decide which approach would be better for her.

After our discussion she weighed both her options and made an informed decision of what path she thought was better for her. She decided she would get a Medicare Advantage plan and we got her on the best one for her situation. But because she understood everything, she was able to feel good about her choice and have full disclosure of not only what she had, but also what she was giving up. Which made her appreciate what she now had, and I’d like to think, make her realize even with Medicare, we can’t have our proverbial cake and eat-it-too. Just like life 😊.

A Conversation with my 30-year old Self by Randy W. Hall

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What If You Knew Then What You Knew Now?

Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes, when we get caught up in the day-to-day, it can seem like we get stagnant or things can get stale. Also, there’s something called hedonic adaptation* that can skew one’s perception of progress. I get stuck from time-to-time and fail to realize how far I’ve progressed in my life.

Just the other day I found a picture from my 30th birthday. It was a vivid reminder that things have come an awfully long way since that particular time of my life. I’d have to say my 30’s were a time of great upward mobility in virtually every way possible. Sure, I was a Nice Guy when I turned 30 too, but my focus certainly wasn’t helping people nearly as much as trying to live day-to-day.

As I looked at my 30 year-old self, I began to ponder “I wonder what my 44 year-old self would tell that 30 year-old guy?” Then I had the brainstorm to have that fictional conversation for you my dear readers. So here goes nothing:

RWH 30: So, you come to me from the future? Whoa that’s crazy! How do I know it’s actually you, er, I mean, how do I know you’re me?

RWH 44: Remember that fire alarm you accidentally triggered at work a few years ago?

RWH 30: I haven’t told anyone about that! (realizes I’m legit) Okay, I believe you. Why are you coming to me now?

RWH 44: I’m trying to help you know the future is a good thing. You got any questions for me, big guy?

RWH 30: Sure, I look great! How old are you and what are we weighing these days?

RWH 44: I’m 44 now. Yeah, you have some ups-and-downs but we’re hanging in there about 190 these days. What do you weigh, hoss?

RWH 30: Don’t you remember? I guess if I lose a bunch of weight then it doesn’t matter. I’m about 235-240. I’m kinda scared to get on a scale right now. Anna’s got me eating way too many Fourth Meals at Taco Bell! Speaking of Anna, does she get any less crazy? Do we make it?

RWH 44: Sorry, not sorry, you guys don’t make it. You wind up marrying a girl in Tennessee. She’s way better for you, trust me! Also, pro tip, people don’t get less crazy unless they get on meds.

RWH 30: Tennessee! Is that where we live? Dan and I had a fun vacation there a few years ago. I really liked it there.

RWH 44: Yessir. Dan Minard moves here next year and he convinces you to take the leap and move here to Nashville too. Do it! Don’t even hesitate. Best thing you’ll ever do for yourself!

RWH 30: That makes sense, I freaking hate cold weather! So, what about work? I assume I don’t keep working for J. Walter Thompson if I’m not in Detroit…

RWH 44: No, you actually move to Tennessee and get into the Medicare industry and eventually wind up starting your own Medicare agency, Mr. Nice Guy Medicare Advisor. You become self-employed, believe it or not!

RWH 30: (Dumbfounded) Medicare?! Isn’t that insurance for seniors? I don’t know a thing about that. And I work for myself?! How am I doing with that?

RWH 44: Well, you learn Medicare working for Genworth Financial for a few years. After a few years they lay your department off, they get bought by Aetna, and that’s when you strike out on your own. So when Melissa, your boss there, starts giving you grief, don’t take it so hard. Believe it or not, you’ve been helping people pick Medicare plans for ten years! You’ve got hundreds of clients and enjoy it because you help people with something they actually need. It’s not the most glamorous-sounding thing ever, but you do great with it!

RWH 30: So, do we still live in Nashville? Do my wife and I have kids?

RWH 44: You live in a beautiful suburb of Nashville called Franklin! You guys live in a beautiful home you have built with your 3 kids! I joke around and tell people that going from Detroit to Franklin is like going from ‘Boyz In the Hood’ to ‘Leave It to Beaver’!

RWH 30: This sounds awesome! We have 3 kids, eh? Boys, girls? What ages are they?

RWH 44: William is the oldest, he’s 7. Then you have Wiley and he’s 3-and-a-half. And lastly you have Vera, who’s about to be one in November. They’re all excellent kids. You have a lot to look forward to, man.

RWH 30: This is blowing my mind! Just the other day I was feeling down because here I am 30 and I’ve been spinning my wheels forever, it seems. I don’t even think I could afford kids at this point! Dad died last May and that’s been rough for me. Anna’s a great girl, but she’s moody, to say the least. I’m living in a rented house Butter+ owns, staying in the basement with her, with my brother and sister living upstairs. It’s better than nothing, but it’s humbling. And when it comes to money, I’m really struggling. My car payment is a total killer. How they heck do I get that together?

RWH 44: I’m not going to lie, it’s a process, but you actually become pretty good with money. You become a homeowner at 34. Working for yourself you make a great living for yourself while working less hours and no boss besides the man-in-the-mirror. So, buck up, smile, it’s going to be fine. Remember when Mr. McDonald said that the most important decision you’ll ever make is who you marry? Believe him.

RWH 30: Mr. McDonald?!# That reminds me, does Charlie Weis lead Notre Dame to the promised land? They’ve been looking pretty good this year (2005)! He seems like he could be coaching there for a long time!

RWH 44: I don’t want to spoil it for you, but he runs into some hard times. I have two words for a coach to remember: Brian Kelly.

RWH 30: The guy at Central Michigan? The guy who used to coach Grand Valley?!

RWH 44: Yep, that’s the guy to watch.

RWH 30: Weird. Okay, so you’re telling me I’ve got nothing to get down about, it all works out. How do my family and friends handle me leaving Michigan and moving to Tennessee? Michelle and Tim are going to be sad.

RWH 44: Well, first off, you’ve got to live your life for you. Not in a selfish way, just a realistic thing to know. For the most part, your family is sad to see you go, but they understand it. They just want to see you turn it around. Tim and Michelle, sadly, aren’t built for the long-haul. Mike and Kathy^ actually both move to Tennessee at different points, too.

RWH 30: I get what you’re saying about living your life for you, it’s just weird to think about leaving them here. Tim and Michelle are really close! They don’t make it?! That bums me out. Also, my Mom must be going nuts having all her kids move to Tennessee.

RWH 44: I think eventually she’ll move there with Harry. They visit all-the-time to see their grandkids. Maybe 50 year-old us will visit you and fill you in. As for Tim and Michelle, think about your own parents. People change and grow in different directions sometimes. Believe it or not, Tim actually winds up marrying Christine, Amy’s cousin!

RWH 30: Brian Smith’s Amy?! That’s nuts!

RWH 44: Yeah, life is funny like that. Listen, I know you feel lost and uncertain much of the time. Stressed out. Stuck. The main reason I wanted to talk to you is to let you know if you keep doing what you’re doing you’ll grow, change and make a difference, not just in your life, but the effects will ripple out to affect all around you. Like that ‘Butterfly Effect’ movie!

RWH 30: That Ashton Kutcher movie?! Please tell me it’s better than that!

RWH 44: Well the future is 100% better than that movie, it just seemed like a good way to get the point across…

RWH 30: Yeah, I get it. Do Dan and I ever get famous?

RWH 44: Fame is overrated.

RWH 30: So that’s a no (smiling).

RWH 44: You guys do have a good podcast about music called ‘That Dandy Classic Music Hour’ for a few years, but I don’t think that’s what you’re talking about.

RWH 30: Podcast? What is that?

RWH 44: You’re gonna love them! You won’t be listening to much music, you’re going to be listening to audio programs through your I-Phone. In fact, you know how you spend a bunch of money on music now?

RWH 30: Yeah, but I’m getting better about that…

RWH 44: In 2019 music is practically free and easy to get. Oh, and wait until you find YouTube. Man, you’ve got to get here! It’s sweet!

RWH 30: Sounds pretty sweet! The way you’re talking to me, am I rich or something?

RWH 44: In more ways than you know. I gotta go, but just remember to enjoy the ride and don’t be so worried.

At that point, like a Ghost of Christmas Future, I’d take leave and let 30 year-old Randy feel good for a change, knowing his future is much better than he can contemplate in-the-moment. In summation, the moral of the story is, don’t confuse boredom with dissatisfaction. Don’t try to get happier than happy. If you’re out there making gradual improvements and making consistently good decisions the future will be your friend. And, like I said to 30 year-old me, be sure to enjoy the ride!

*Hedonic adaptation is the observed tendency of humans to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness despite major positive or negative events or life changes.

+Butter is the nickname for my former landlord John.

#Mr. McDonald was a guy I caddied for and mentored me in my teen years who led me to become a huge Notre Dame football fan.

^Mike and Kathy are my brother and sister, respectively.