Setting:
It was early 1982. I reported to my first Air Force duty station. I’d been to six weeks of basic training at San Antonio Texas, then another six weeks of technical school at Shepard Air Force Base (AFB), in north Texas. I’d been trained as a medic. You know, the guys who run around picking up the wounded on the battlefield. That was my job. But, since there was no war, instead of the battlefield, I was getting assigned to the hospital at Mather, AFB near Sacramento, California. I would start off in the medical ward. But, before starting my new “career”, I would go through a series of orientation classes. Out of all these classes I can only remember one; financial planning. And, I only remember this class because the instructor said something that frightened me. I’ll never forget it because it had such an impact; such a shock effect. It frightened me into making my way to financial independence. I wanted to make sure what he said never came true for me. It motivated the socks off me. I never got around to thanking the instructor for his powerful, inspirational, motivational and life-changing talk.
Military Financial Planning Class:
I sat in the classroom at Mather AFB, CA looking around. “Wow. They’re going to teach me about financial planning. This is great! I can’t believe all the neat stuff the military teaches you. I should have joined up a long time ago. What a good deal …” I thought to myself.
I was pretty pleased with my decision to join the Air Force. It just seemed like such a good all around deal. I remember back to the conversation I had with my recruiter in Nashua, New Hampshire. “Let me get this straight, you’re going to pay me $550 a month, with 30 days paid vacation, free room in the dormitory and a meal ticket?” I repeated back what he told me.
“That’s right,” said Tony (Caputo) sharply and proudly. “And, remember you get free medical and dental. And, you get free life insurance. Not a bad deal, eh?” he added.
I couldn’t believe such a deal! Why didn’t anyone tell me about this before? I wanted to sign on right then and there.
Good Deal Compared to What?
Of course a deal is only as good as whatever else you’re comparing it to. Well, my “whatever else” was pretty bad. I was working a full time job and couldn’t even afford to live at home. Course, my Dad wasn’t cooperating. He was charging me $50 a week to live in his house. He told me now that I’m out of school, there’s no more free ride. He also had a stack of chores for me to perform each day/week. One I particularly didn’t like was mowing the lawn. Our lawn was all over the place; hills, bumps, rocks. Behind the house we would tie a rope to the lawnmower handle and drop it down the steep slope to make the cut. It was a pain in the butt. In the old days my two brothers would help but since I dropped out of college, it was now my job. The boys didn’t have to help because they were still in school. Staying in school had its privileges in Dad’s house.
There were other expenses and I wasn’t making much money. Living at home was tough. Dad let me borrow $1,200 to buy an ugly second hand green Chevy Nova. What a junk box. You turn the wheel and a minute later the car decides to turn. It was the perfect seasickness simulator; has the same ride as a rowboat in a storm. He agreed to pretty generous terms; pay him $50 a week until it’s all paid back. Now, here’s the rub. I only made a little over $100 a week in net pay. So, after I paid rent and my car payment, I had virtually nothing left over for things like … gas for the car! Course, my Dad reminded me of my “good deal.”
“How much do you pay for food?” He asked.
“Nothing.” I replied.
“So, that fifty bucks a week you’re paying me covers not just your house but your meals too. Where you gonna find a deal like that?” he questioned.
I stared into space trying to think of a way out of this “good deal.” Course, I knew he was right. Where was I going to find as good a deal as he was offering? That is, until I bumped into the Air Force recruiter!
When the recruiter told me the “Air Force” deal, I wanted in. When? Now! I don’t even care if this thing’s legal, I’m in – where do I sign?
Back to the financial planning class …
The big, middle aged man took his place at the front of the class. Not a military guy, he was a civilian.
“Good morning. I’m Mr. Teague. I work at the education department here on base.”
“Wow, they have an education department?” I thought to myself in amazement. These military guys think of everything. The deal keeps getting better! My eyes got bigger and my attention keener as he started his presentation.
“How many of you here today are single and live in the dormitory?” he asked.
Just about everyone in the class put their hand up. Me too, except I was hesitant to admit yes to his question. Here I was, 21 years old – closer to 22 really – single and living in the dormitory with a meal card. Totally dependent on the government for my livelihood. Not really bragging rights stuff. Let me tell you a story to highlight what I mean.
Hit to the Ego
Just prior to leaving for the military, I visited my old high school and bumped into my former teacher and coach (Hank Basil). He was coaching the soccer team, yelling out commands and blowing his whistle from time to time. He seemed to always have the whistle in his hand ready to blow. It was his signature stance.
“High Coach.” I said with some enthusiasm.
“Hello there Dave. How have you been?” he replied politely but gave off the impression that he didn’t really want an in-depth answer.
So, I replied, “Fine.” And then we stood there for an awkward moment while searching for what to do or say next. I then thought I’d share my new Air Force adventure.
“Did you hear I joined the Air Force?” I asked with an enthusiastic tone. Trying to lift the conversation and get it rolling. My ploy didn’t work.
“Yeah, I heard.” coach replied then turned and ran off to talk to some of his players.
That was a blow to my ego. I read into his response. I know you shouldn’t “read into a response” but that’s what I did. I may have read it all wrong but here’s what I came up with …
He thought I was a loser.
He probably thought to himself … “Dave was a standout athlete in high school. He lettered in soccer, basketball and baseball. He was voted MVP of the soccer and basketball teams in his senior year. He got good grades. He was a member of the National Honor Society. He was studying Business Administration at the University of New Hampshire. What is this guy doing dropping out and joining the Air Force? Why?”
I remember wanting to chase after him to explain myself. All the reasons why things had not gone according to my plan. The disappointments, the trials, all the “feel sorry for me” tales that nobody wants to hear. Thank God I resisted that urge.
Put my hand up.
So, when Mr. Teague asked his question about being single and living in the dormitory, I felt that rush of “loser” come over me and I remembered my coach. But, I managed to raise my hand. Yup, I’m one of those guys! Single; living in the dormitory. That’s me. Sometimes the quickest way to move on in life is to admit where you are right now. And, if you don’t like it, then face it and take action to improve your situation. I was in the mood to take action.
Mr. Teague pointed his finger and then pretended to count the raised hands. “It looks like just about everyone.” he said as his final count.
Here comes the shocking news!
“Well, I’m going to share something with you today. And, if it’s the only thing you get out of this lesson, then my talk has been a success.” he built up the suspense.
Even though this psychology has been used over and over, it works. I wanted to take away this piece of information he was offering up. I scooted up in my chair taking a more attentive position.
Mr. Teague continued, “You folks that are single and living in the dormitory, have it made. And, let me tell you where you stand financially.”
And then he said the phrase that has stuck with me all these years; a phrase that has motivated me financially every since.
“Right now, is the wealthiest you’ll ever be in your life.”
After he said it, my mind went into overdrive. I didn’t hear another word he said until about 5 minutes afterward. I was still stuck on this phrase. It kept racing through my mind, generating questions; questions that seemed to have horrible answers or no answers at all. Questions, questions, questions:
“Ok, I’m making $200 every payday. That’s the wealthiest I’ll ever be?”
“How come that doesn’t sound very wealthy?
“How come I don’t feel wealthy?”
“You mean it gets worse financially from here?
“You mean I can look forward to a lower standard of living as I get older?
“You mean I won’t be able to live at least as good as Mom and Dad?” (Dad makes way more than $200 a paycheck)
“Is this another way of telling me I’m a loser?
Is this wealth?
When my mind finally drifted back to the classroom, I started to pick up some of Mr. Teague’s explanation for his bold statement.
“You have no expenses. Your meals and housing are provided. The only thing you need to buy is toothpaste and underarm deodorant. Heck, you don’t even have to buy toilet paper; the dormitory provides that too!”
I listened but what he described didn’t sound like “wealth” to me. It sounded like a “good deal”; a temporary good deal. But, not something you would want for an extended period of time – say a 20 year career. It sounded like a good place to start. But, “the wealthiest you’ll ever be in your life?” He can’t be right. Please tell me he’s wrong.
It was too much for me to think about. If this was as good as it was going to get financially, then why bother. I wanted to hop out of my seat, and get a running start for the window and jump out!
Not me!
Then I got angry. “I’ll show him. I’ll prove him wrong. What he’s saying may be true for others but it’s not going to be true for me!” I pledged to myself.
I wasn’t going to say it out loud for fear of having to defend my challenge. Yeah, I had doubts. Serious doubts. The biggest, “What if he’s right?” I tried to erase that question from my mind, too hard to contemplate.
But, I made sure I heard my pledge. I was really the only one who needed to hear it anyway. Making your own path in life is something personal. You can’t contract it out. You have to do it yourself.