MAILBAG!

Mailbag

Oh no, that's not a European male carry-on at all. Very masculine.

Where do you suggest buying hard assets like gold or silver?
John, Las Vegas

Let’s start with someone who clearly read one of our previous posts.

Two ways to go here – ingots or coins. You’d think ingots would be the more liquid, easily transferable form. They aren’t always, and here’s why.

National governments issue coins, which means they come with some implicit guarantee. Should the gold market bottom out, your $10 American Eagle gold coin will still be legal tender. A bar is easier to fake. Even if you know a bar is real, a seller won’t and will insist that you pay to have a dealer examine and verify it if it doesn’t come with an assay certificate. That’s less likely with a coin, which is harder to counterfeit.

The U.S. Mint sells coins at huge markups – like, 20% (or 36% if you buy in tenths of ounces.) Better to go through a private dealer like Goldline or Monex, which sells at a smaller markup (around 4%).

The latter will also sell bars, which are forged privately. They’ll carry the logo of the manufacturer, stamped right on the bar. Johnson Matthey, a UK company, is a big one. So is Credit Suisse.

Your local bank might sell you gold over-the-counter, too. Not surprisingly, your chances are better with a big national or multinational bank than with a community bank.

My company takes $x per pay period and puts it in a 401(k). They match up to $x that I contribute. What is my company doing with my money?
Donnie, Austin

They’re doing exactly what you told them to, whatever that is.

Your company almost certainly uses just one provider to handle its employees’ 401(k)s. If your company’s big enough, once a year someone from that provider shows up and tells everyone where they can invest their 401(k) money. The provider will probably let you choose from a bunch of mutual funds – some that focus on growth, others that focus on dividend income, etc. You selected one and with your next paycheck, the money started going to whichever 401(k) instrument you chose. The money your employer matched your contributions with went to the same place. So ultimately, that money probably ended up with Hewlett-Packard or American Learning Corporation or Overland Storage or Burlington Northern Santa Fe or whatever. Or all of the above. But again, it’s only going there because you specifically asked for it to.

I love being grandfathered into the SARSEP plan I set up for my company before Billy Bob Clinton abolished them. No reason to look to get out of that, correct?
Andy, Indianapolis

No.
A SARSEP is, was, a Salary Reduction Simplified Employee Pension Plan. As you can tell, the IRS took acronymic license with that one.
As Andy mentioned, SARSEPs went the way of the passenger pigeon 14 years ago. Under a SARSEP, if your business had under 25 employees, and most of them agreed, you could direct part of their pay to an Individual Retirement Account. SARSEPs were a special class of the SEP-IRA, which is a little more relevant to our discussion.
A SEP-IRA is a way for small businesses to circumvent the rule that an employee can only contribute $15,000 annually to an IRA. (You want to be able to contribute a lot, as that’ll lower your tax liability today.) The maximum an employee can contribute under a SEP-IRA depends on how much the company earned. A SEP-IRA is essentially a profit-sharing plan. The most you can contribute on an employee’s behalf is either
a) ¼ of his salary, or
b) $49,000, whichever’s less.
That latter number rises annually. If you work for yourself, substitute 1/5 for ¼ and factor in the self-employed tax deduction. Isn’t accounting at the government’s behest fun?
One more thing: if you work for yourself, you know what the maximum you can contribute is? It’s a percentage of net profit.
20%?
Lower.
19%?
Lower.
18%?
Higher.
18.587045%?
Yes! And you read that correctly; the functionaries at the IRS actually drew the percentage out to 6 decimal places. Because if they let you contribute 18.587046%, which is an extra 1¢ on every $1 million, it would be unfair to some interest group.
How many examples have we given of the tax code needing to be imploded and started again from the ground up?
An aside: what’s the breaking point? At the rate we’re going, the IRS code will exceed a billion pages in the lifetime of some of us. Would a code that size be long enough to make taxpayers agree that the process under which their money’s confiscated is too confusing? Would the politicians of that era care enough to do anything about it? Is this as futile as trying to stamp out corruption or get everyone on the planet to quit smoking?
We do a mailbag whenever we get enough good, legitimate questions. Send yours to info@ControlYourCash.com.

Oh, you precious little princess

That's IronMan@PoliticalCalculations.com

At least 2 bloggers have asked us not to comment on their sites anymore, but this one is extraordinary.

A couple of weeks ago we hosted the Festival of Stocks. The guy (assuming it’s a guy) who runs the On The Moneyed Midways blog roundup found the accompanying image offensive, and chided us accordingly on his site this week:

We have another case study in how not to host a blog carnival. The sad thing for us is that the host only did one thing wrong and aside from the one thing, we would consider the carnival to have been well done.

But that one thing completely wrecked it. And unfortunately, any and every casual reader who might click through to that blog carnival won’t be able to avoid running into it and asking “WTF?”, most likely in much more graphic language.

In this case, what that one thing is, is a photo that appears near the top of the blog carnival post. One that is, dare we say, completely out of context with the content of the blog carnival and therefore completely inappropriate. And that’s putting it mildly. If you must, here is a link from the obsolete Blog Carnival site where you can link to the blog carnival in question – we do not recommend clicking through to it and we refuse to link to it directly.

What makes it a sad thing is that for the first time ever in the history of OMM, we’re going to completely bypass considering any posts contributed to an otherwise well done carnival for inclusion in OMM. When we say we’re presenting the best posts we found among the best of the past week’s money and business-related blog carnivals, we mean it. This week, we discovered that means all it takes is just one thing to make us scratch an otherwise perfectly good blog carnival entirely from our consideration.

We apologize to the bloggers who submitted posts to the blog carnival in question. We know you had no control over the carnival host’s editorial choices and had very different expectations for how your contribution to the carnival would be presented. We regret that for one of you, the carnival host effectively sabotaged your post from any chance to benefit from the small, but increased exposure that your post might have enjoyed from being included in our weekly wrapup of the best posts we found in the week that was.

We also apologize to the blog carnival’s organizer, who also had no control over how this week’s edition of the blog carnival would be presented.
She’s fully clothed. The carnival’s owner, George at Fat Pitch Financials, didn’t say a thing. He’s the only one we would have changed the image for, anyway. None of the bloggers we featured seemed to have a problem with our image, either. Anyhow, you delicate, prissy fellow, we’ve attached an image this week that hopefully suits your tastes. Enjoy.

I’ll Shop At Trader Joe’s When I’m Dead

Everyday low prices

 

It’s hard to imagine that trying to save money while stocking your pantry can be taken as a social statement. But for some people, politics infuses everything.

Walmart is America’s biggest retailer, a weekly staple for tens of millions of consumers. But for several thousand others with a flair for being dramatic and uninformed, Walmart’s wide air-conditioned aisles are just a coal mine with too much fluorescent lighting. Add the inevitable truth that a low-price retailer will attract working-class customers (among plenty of upper-class customers), and for many, Walmart thus becomes Exhibit A in the Everything That’s Wrong With Unbridled Profit display.

Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you’re doing your microscopic part for the Gross Domestic Product by patronizing your local Korean mom-and-pop grocery instead and paying its comically high markups.

For the most part, corporatization is the ultimate result of Adam Smith’s division of labor. Not to go Economics 101 on you, but the gist of the dead Scotsman’s argument is that the best way for an economy to thrive is that everyone do what they’re best at. In the early days of motor vehicles, there were dozens of manufacturers – some with factories not much bigger than a 4-car garage. The manufacturers who figured out how to best cut costs without impacting quality were the ones that survived and flourished. That hired the most people. And whose descendants signed suicidal union contracts that eventually rendered said manufacturers limp, but that’s another story.

Objections to Walmart range from the preposterous to the starkly so. For instance:

a) “They pay slave wages.”

Working at Walmart is voluntary.

a1) “Yes, but they should still pay more.”

Again, voluntary. The biggest economic myth of our lifetimes is that a third party (the union boss, the Department of Labor sycophant, mommy) is entitled to have an opinion on an agreement between two principals – in this case, the employee and the employer. Walmart can offer its employees 4¢/hour if it wants. No applicant has to (or will) accept it.

Besides, you think Walmart’s smaller and less-successful competitors are showering their employees with gold doubloons and rides on the company jet?

Starting cashier wage ($)
Walmart9.66
Albertson’s9.28
Safeway8.89
A&P8.25
Kroger7.70
Piggly Wiggly7.30
Food Lion7.12

Numbers courtesy of PayScale.

b) “Disgusting people shop there.”

Yes, and only neurosurgeons who run ultramarathons shop at other grocery stores. Here’s an upscale lady waiting in line in the pharmacy at Smith’s.

Yes, that’s toilet paper hanging out of her butt. No, it’s unclear that it’s clean. Yes, hopefully it is. No, this doesn’t count as taking pictures of unsuspecting women for salacious reasons. She was the retail equivalent of a green flash – a fleeting phenomenon that a camera had to be quick to catch.

c) The consensus favorite, “They prey on people who don’t know any better.” Including yours truly, apparently.

Shop wherever you want: the very point of capitalism is that you have choices. $400 Cole Haans and $5 shower flip-flops serve the same purpose, as do a new Infiniti QX and a 1985 Hyundai Pony. The richer you are, the more options you have and the greater justification and rationalization there is for spending more.

We get disdainful looks from friends when the topic of willingly shopping at Walmart comes up. We respond that while we’re not poor, we’re not so rich that we can afford to have a grocery-buying philosophy that transcends price, selection, 24-hour convenience and freshness. Not coincidentally, paying a karmic premium is something that few truly rich people do. What, the generic 10-ounce can of cooking spray at Safeway lubricates a skillet that much better than the equivalent Walmart one? Or is it just the intangible feeling of knowing that the extra 19¢ you pay for the former will help provide an Ivy League education for the Safeway employees’ kids, when divided among 197,000 of them?

If you’ve been conditioned to consider Walmart as emblematic of everything evil, a logically sound 800-word screed isn’t going to change your mind. Meanwhile, “Everyday low prices” sounds like a pretty convincing and airtight business strategy to a rational person.

Walmart shopping is a powerful barometer of what some amateur sociologists* have dubbed The Rwanda Test. Here’s how it works: you take a Rwandan, present him with a first-world moral quandary, state your position, then see if he wants to punch you in the face. Complaining that a parolee beat your daughter to death is legitimate. Complaining that the millions of dollars you make playing dress-up leave you unfulfilled is not. The next time you take a stance against America’s largest seller of breakfast cereal (of which there were 220 varieties at my neighborhood store yesterday), think about who’s listening. Then think about the billions of people on the planet for whom refrigerated milk to pour on the cereal is an untold luxury, let alone refrigerated milk that someone went to the trouble of removing the fat from (without increasing the miniscule price of the milk, no less.)

*alright, one friend, who was possibly medicated at the time

**This post is featured in the Carnival of Wealth #8**