Yesterday, as I do most Fridays, I sent the GRS Insider to folks who subscribe to the Get Rich Slowly email list.

The email was unusual. It was more like a blog post than a simple summary of recent articles. I've had several people request a version they can share with other people, so -- this one time only -- I've created a stand-alone web version.

Parts of this have been edited slightly to account for the transition from email to web.

If you've been reading me for any length of time — or if you know me in person — you know that I hate conflict. I hate hate hate it. Some people seem to thrive on it. Not me. I shirk from it.

This is one reason I've steadfastly kept my financial writing politically neutral. I don't want conflict.

It helps that I'm neither liberal nor conservative. I'm some strange mix of the two. But mostly it's because I think financial advice is important for everyone regardless of political persuasion. It's rare that I take a stand on something political.

Because of who I am and what I believe, Get Rich Slowly will never become a political platform. (It'll touch on politics occasionally, but politics will never be a driving force at the site.)

That said, I'm mad as hell about not only the recent bout of racism in the U.S., but also the long history of racism that underpins our society. Something's gotta give. The current protests are 100% justified and they're not acts of terrorism. They're a call for action. What sort of action? I have no idea. I don't have solutions. But the problem is plain as day and it must be addressed. We, as a nation, must — at long last — deal with our history instead of sweeping it under the rug.

Minneapolis, Denver, NYC, Oakland, Atlanta, Washington D.C., Louisville, San Jose, Des Moines, Detroit. The list goes on. These are just some of the cities that have experienced protests in the past week.

George Floyd's murder (and murder-porn video) was one of the catalysts for these protests. But let's be clear: Sooner or later, this was going to happen. Things are not okay in America. America's continuing issue with race, inequality, and the routine acceptance of the mistreatment of black people and other people of color came to a head in the last couple of days.

Then, we had Amy Cooper in New York City calling the police on Christian Cooper unecessarily during a normal incident that plays out all the time - annoying people with their dogs off leash. That one call could have resulted in Christian Cooper's death.

In this episode of Michelle is Money Hungry, I'm going to get candid about race in America, money and opportunity, and what's next.

This is a very difficult show for me to do because I have so many thoughts racing through my mind. The goal of this episode is to give a better perspective of what people are angry about and to leave with ideas of how we collective can do better. And, honestly, I have to say something about this. And just so you know, this is not the first time that I've talked about race and wealth in America on my website and podcast. (But it's the first time J.D. has shared my work here at Get Rich Slowly.)

Yesterday, to celebrate Thanksgiving, Kim and I instituted what we hope will become an annual tradition. Yesterday, we held our first annual family meeting.

Kim approached me with the idea last week. "I think it'd be nice to sit down and talk about our goals," she said.

"I agree," I said. I was thinking of the article Matthias shared here in August. Matt and his wife create five-year plans to co-ordinate their shared future. They spend a day drafting couple goals to build their dream life. I've been thinking that Kim and I should do something similar.

So, yesterday morning over coffee, we sat down for our a family meeting. We talked about the current state of our household -- and we talked about where we'd like to steer things in years to come.

J.D.'s Rocky Year

"It's been a rocky year for me," I said, although Kim already knew this. "I've been fighting anxiety and depression since March. I've had a few patches of amazing productivity and good self-worth, but I've spent a lot of my time trying to keep from drowning. Metaphorically."

"That's true," Kim said, "but you're making good changes. You're exercising. You're drinking less. You're seeing friends more often. You've stopped wasting time on videogames. And you have your big project coming up."

"Right," I said. I've been recruited by Audible and The Great Courses to create a ten-part (five-hour) series on financial independence and early retirement. "That work is going to take most of this winter. The first five lectures are due at the end of January. The rest of the course is due at the end of March. I'll fly to D.C. in early May to record the audio."

"Will the project pay enough to fund your lifestyle?" Kim asked.

"Sort of," I said. "It's four months of work, and it'll probably end up funding about four months of expenses. That's not bad, but it's not great either. But I'm not really doing it for the money, you know."

"How are your finances?" Kim asked. Believe it or not, in our nearly eight years together, we've only talked about money in-depth a couple of times. We trust each other, so we haven't felt the need.

"Things aren't as good as they were three years ago," I said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, when we returned from the RV trip in June 2016, I felt completely at ease financially. I had enough saved that I never felt like I had to work again. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted."

"That's not true anymore?"

"Not really," I said. "You know I'm not squandering my money, obviously, but let's look at the numbers. Over the past three years, I've spent $400,000 on a bunch of big stuff: buying back Get Rich Slowly, remodeling this house, those investments in other businesses. I'm not blowing the money on gambling and hookers. These are all financial decisions that made sense in the moment, but which have left me feeling pinched."

"Are you running out of money?" Kim asked.

"No, not really," I said. "I just don't have as much as I want. Look. I'll show you the numbers."

"Who was there for your father when he died?" Kim asked me a few moments ago. She's interested in becoming a death doula, so she's reading a book about end-of-life care.

"It's odd you should ask that today," I said after I told her the story of my father's six-year battle with cancer.

"Why?" she asked.

"Today is the equivalent day in my life as the day when Dad died in his," I said. "It's ten days until I turn fifty. Dad died ten days before his fiftieth birthday. So, it's a somber day for me. I'll be thinking of him all day."

Actually, I've been thinking of Dad all week.

It started when I published Naomi Veak's story about how she learned to stop feeling hopeless about money. In that article, Veak shared a letter her mother sent her when she was nineteen years old. Veak was a poor kid at a rich school, and she was struggling to figure out finances. Her mother offered some words of wisdom.

I had the exact same thing happen to me at the exact same age at the exact same college. I was a poor boy at this rich school. During my sophomore year at Willamette University, when I was nineteen, my father wrote me a letter filled with financial advice.

Today seems like a good day to share it with you folks.

When J.D. decided to spend three weeks in Europe with his family, he asked a few people if they'd be interested in contributing articles during his absence. He even asked me!

My name is Scott Rieckens, and I'm new to the world of smart money management. I'm new to the world of financial independence and early retirement. I'm new, but I've totally immersed myself in it. I've immersed myself so much, in fact, that I've spent the past eighteen months creating a feature film about FIRE. (FIRE is the clumsy abbreviation for "financial independence/retire early". Basically, the FIRE movement is all about saving big so that you can choose to live however you want.)

"You've been in a unique position over the past year," J.D. said when I asked him what I should write about. "You've had amazing access to a variety of people who think and write and teach about financial independence and early retirement. You've been able to hear what they think and say in private as well as public. What about sharing your biggest takeaways from this experience?"

Perfect! I can dish out everyone's dirty laundry and avoid posting those embarrassing stories on my own site. It's a win-win for me, really. J.D. is such a sucker.

You ready? Let's go behind the scenes of the early retirement movement. Here are five things I learned while filming Playing with Fire.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kD8uNm5ck0Q

Lesson #1: The FIRE Movement is Polarizing

When I started down the rabbit hole of early retirement blogs and podcasts, I was swept up in the euphoria that many others have experienced: "Holy moley, I'm going to retire in less than ten years!"

Coming from fifteen years of a spendy, financially-illiterate lifestyle, this was a huge revelation that gave me hope, joy, excitement, and...butterflies. Imagine the control over your life! Imagine the freedom! Think of all the ideas I will chase, the whims I can explore! Think of what this means for my family!

Somehow, though, I missed the blog post or podcast episode that explained just how difficult it can be to live within the FIRE framework while the people around you wonder what the hell you're talking about.

• "But I like my job."
• "That sort of lifestyle sounds terrible."
• "Are you joining a cult?"

These reactions dampened my enthusiasm. Nobody had warned me that there might be people who thought we were crazy for pursuing financial freedom.

Now, as FIRE is spreading through the mass media, there's been push-back from unexpected corners. Financial guru Suze Orman says she hates the FIRE movement. The comments on articles and interviews around the web are often negative -- even hateful.

I wasn't expecting that. How can something so positive be viewed with so much negativity?

Since starting our project, the number-one thing we hear from early retirement folks is: "I really hope this film makes it easier to share FIRE with my friends and family. Every time it comes up, things get weird and my already-socially-anxious-self gets all clammy."

I can say unequivocally that we have the same hopes.

Our society's relationship with money seems completely broken. When the best-selling vehicles are full-sized $60,000 trucks, yet 70% of Americans are living paycheck to paycheck, it seems the general population is managing money at a fifth-grade level. (And again, that used to be me before I found FIRE.)

We've got a lot of work ahead of us.

In the world of personal finance, the subject of how couples share (or don't share) their money comes up time and time again. It's no surprise. After all, money problems are a leading cause of divorce.

But for some reason, the concept that "personal finance is personal" doesn't always factor into people's opinions about combining finances -- especially within a marriage.

Often, people argue that in order to be a team, couples must combine finances fully. Or that separate accounts mean there's some lack of trust within the relationship. Or that you aren't truly committed to each other. Or that you must not be on the same page about long-term hopes and dreams.

None of these things are true. Plenty of committed couples keep separate finances. These couples are teams. They trust each other. They share the same hopes and dreams. But for a variety of reasons, separate finances work well for them.

Today, I want to share an alternative to these two dominant modes of money management. I want to share how couples can both keep their finances separate -- and combine them. Confused? Let me explain.

If you're panicked because you still haven't thought of the perfect gift for the people on your Nice List, you'll be relieved to know you don't need to spend as much time as you might think looking for something thoughtful. You also don't need to run up your credit card bill.

Why? Because neither of these things is likely to be appreciated by the gift getter.

In fact, a 2008 study from Stanford University researchers found that spending a lot of time and money to select a gift doesn't make a bit of difference to the recipient. According to Francis J. Flynn, an organizational psychologist at Stanford, the price of a gift is more important to the giver than the getter. (Plus, most recipients actually prefer cash or something from a gift registry, such as their Amazon wish list.)

Last weekend, Kim and I flew to Utah for a reunion with friends from the 2016 chautauqua in Ecuador. While in Salt Lake City, we met up with Jesse Mecham (the founder of You Need a Budget), visited Utah Olympic Park, and attended a Sunday morning performance of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Our group also spent an entire afternoon at the Mormon Family History Library, where we explored our genealogy. Not everyone was enthused about researching their family tree at first, but eventually even those who thought the exercise would be lame found themselves wrapped in it. It's fun -- and enlightening -- to unravel the threads of time and discover who your ancestors were and where they came from.

Flying home from Salt Lake City, I got to thinking about how our family trees don't just influence our genetics. We inherit more than physical features from those who came before us. We also inherit culture and psychology and values. And yes, we inherit financial habits from our parents and grandparents.

Each of us has a financial family tree.

My Financial Family Tree

I write often about our money blueprints, the set of subconscious "scripts" that define our behaviors and attitudes toward money. Society at large — our friends, co-workers, the mass media — plays a role in writing these scripts, but most of our money blueprints are inherited from our family -- especially our parents.

In a way, it's as if our money blueprints are a product of our financial family trees. Our grandparents passed their feelings about money to their children, and these children instilled their habits and attitudes into us.

When I look at my own relationship with money, it's easy to see how my present actions and attitudes -- even at nearly fifty years old! -- were inherited from my parents.

It's a GRS tradition! Each year on Halloween, I publish a story about planning for death. Usually these are general articles about estate planning. This year's story is personal.

When my best friend died in 2009, one of my biggest regrets was that I hadn't made time to travel with him.

Sparky had previously asked me to join him on trips to Burning Man (in 1996) and southeast Asia (in 1998) and Mexico (in 2003). I'd declined each invitation, in part because I was deep in debt but also because I thought there'd be plenty of time to do that sort of thing in the future.

Turns out, there wasn't plenty of time to do that sort of thing in the future.

After Sparky died, I resolved to make the most of opportunities like this. Being in a better financial position helped. Having ample savings gives me the flexibility to join friends on short adventures or to explore the U.S. by RV for fifteen months without money worries. (Yes, I realize that's a fortunate position to be in.)

Here's an example. In 2012, my cousin Duane asked me to join him for a three-week trip to Turkey. Remembering my vow after Sparky's death (and remembering the power of yes), I agreed. That trip to Turkey is one of the highlights of my life so far. I'm glad I did it. It was worth every penny.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1ryS8649cQ

The Best Laid Plans

Early in 2017, Duane contacted me. "This fall will be the five-year anniversary of our trip to Turkey," he said. "Want to have another big adventure?"

"Sure!" I said. So, we started planning.

We bought books, watched videos, and browsed websites. We invited Kim to join us. Over the course of several months, our plans crystalized. We'd fly to Paris, rent a car, then spend three or four weeks driving around France and Spain and Portugal, enjoying festivals, experiencing the grape harvest, and exploring ruins. (Duane loves ruins!)

In June of last year, I sent Duane an email. "I'm going to buy plane tickets tomorrow. Do you want me to buy yours?"

"Hold up," he responded. "We need to talk." He called me on the phone.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Well, J.D., it's like this," he said. "I have cancer. I've been having problems with my throat for a few months, but I thought that was because of indigestion or something. It's not indigestion. I have throat cancer."

There are those who believe that money writers lead perfect financial lives. Ha! Would that it were so. When we get together, we often share stories about the dumb things we’ve done. Today, my friends, I want to tell you about an instance in which I failed to follow my own advice, an example of how not to get rich slowly.

For several years now, one of my indulgences has been season tickets to the Portland Timbers, my home-town’s professional soccer team. I’ve been a Timbers fan since I was six years old. I used to listen to their exploits on the radio during the 1970s. I can still sing "Green is the Color" from memory:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0WP05R1li0

When the new Portland Timbers joined Major League Soccer in 2011, I jumped at the chance to buy season tickets. Here's video I took from the Timbers' first MLS game.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8tkbzofJ4Ng

After Kim and I decided to embark on our RV adventure across the U.S., I thought I’d have to give up my seats. I was sad. But then my friend Joe made a great suggestion: “Why don’t you sell them to me for the season?” A win-win, right? Well, sort of...