It used to be that “stuff” made you cool. That is so twentieth century. Jeff Yeager, the man dubbed The Ultimate Cheapskate by Matt Lauer on Today, offers a completely fresh take on personal finance, teaching us how to enjoy life more by spending less. He will show you how to buy less stuff, retire young, and live financially free, while you make a positive difference in people’s lives and save the planet along the way. The Ultimate Cheapskate’s Road Map to True Riches lays out the practices and principles that have made cheap the new cool.
Live within your means at thirty and stay there. The Ultimate Cheapskate was living well on what he earned at thirty, so when he made more money, he saved every penny. Now he is “selfishly” employed, doing work he loves and helping others.
Do for yourself what you could have others do for you. Cheapskates are die-hard do-it-yourselfers. It’s all about having the right tools, and The Ultimate Cheapskate will get you started.
Pinch the dollars and the pennies will pinch themselves. It’s not the $3 cup of coffee; it’s the big-ticket decisions that determine whether you’ll be financially free. So buy a house, not a castle.
The Ultimate Cheapskate’s Road Map to True Riches promises a quality of life you cannot buy, a sense of satisfaction you cannot fake, and an appreciation for others and for the planet that gives life value. Open your road map and prepare to discover the true joys of financial freedom.
|Publisher:||The Crown Publishing Group|
|Product dimensions:||5.20(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.60(d)|
About the Author
JEFF YEAGER has run nonprofit agencies, and is now a writer and the creator of the Web site ultimatecheapskate.com. He lives happily and frugally with his wife, Denise, in Accokeek, Maryland.
Read an Excerpt
The Ultimate Cheapskate's Road Map to True RichesA Practical (and Fun) Guide to Enjoying Life More by Spending Less
By Jeff Yeager
BroadwayCopyright © 2007 Jeff Yeager
All right reserved.
Introduction: The Money Step
I always stay at the cheapest hotel, so I was surprised to find a mint on my pillow in the evening. Turns out it fell out of the mouth of the guy who slept there the night before.
—Jeff Yeager, the Ultimate Cheapskate
Rule No. 1: Groceries do not count as Christmas gifts, even if you gift wrap them.
—Denise Yeager, pooooor wife of the Ultimate Cheapskate, giving Jeff the annual holiday gift buying lecture.
Man, money may not be the root of all evil, but it’s a seed that can sprout some pretty nasty shit.
—anonymous barroom philosopher I met in The Bar, Williston, North Dakota, summer 1977, while I was on a cross–country bicycle trip. He was bemoaning the recent breakup with his “old lady,” a rift that grew out of the couple’s winning one thousand dollars in the lottery.
What’s your earliest childhood memory of money?
Close your eyes and think about it hard for a minute, because it's really important. The memory you eventually dredge up may have a shockingly familiar feeling. In fact you may conjure up feelingsand emotions that crossed the radar screen of your mind this very day, as you paid for your groceries, wrote a check to the electric company, or shelled out the kid's weekly allowance.
Keep that memory at the very top of your mind as we travel in the pages ahead down some of life’s major byways, byways filled with intersections, with choices. Not just choices about money and how to spend it, but decisions about what you want out of life, what’s important in life, and what money does—or doesn’t—have to do with any of it.
I’ll bet that your earliest thoughts and memories of money are still influencing some of the financial decisions you make today. As you keep barreling down the Road to Riches, convinced, as most of us are, that the intersection with the Highway to Happiness is just around the next bend, it’s worth spending a moment to think about how you got to this point. Like consulting a road map when you're already hopelessly lost, you might be surprised to find out where you really are and that the course you are on is leading you away from your intended destination.
In my case, my earliest memory of money is, ironically, of found money, of a shiny silver dime, probably dated around 1963, when I was five. I found it while playing in our front yard on Summerfield Road in Sylvania, Ohio.
In my case, my first taste of money truly was a taste. By the time my mom sprinted across the yard to see what I was playing with, it was too late. I had already swallowed it. In addition to the spellbinding shine of the coin, I remember the metallic flavor as it traveled awkwardly down my tiny throat. Somehow, through the marvels of the human body and mind, I still get a slight, almost undetectable taste of metal in my mouth at the end of every day when I empty out my pocket change.
Money on the Brain
Like it or not, money is part of our very being. We worry more about money than anything else. We fight with our spouses and families more about money than anything else. We spend more of our waking hours earning and spending money than doing anything else.
In fact I read about a research study a few years ago that showed that people think about money an average of fifty–five times a day. That immediately caught my attention, as I also remembered reading about another study that showed that people (or, rather, men) think about sex an average of every fifteen minutes throughout the day.
When you combine the results of these two studies and subtract out of a twenty–four–hour period the number of hours spent sleeping and the hours spent thinking about nothing at all, if I’ve done the math correctly, you discover something startling. Not only do most people think only about money and sex, but a good deal of the time men are thinking about money and sex simultaneously. On second thought, I guess I don’t find it that surprising.
So with thoughts of money dominating your every waking hour and encroaching on every aspect of your life, you pick up a book about—what else?—money.
But unlike most personal finance books, this book is not about how to make more money. This book is about how to make less money, but how to be happier than if you made more. It’s about how to make money less a part of your life by spending less, so that you can enjoy life more. And it’s not so much about finding the best values in things—although it provides some good advice in that regard—as about valuing the best things, which usually come without price tags.
Most of all, this book is about choices, not about sacrifices, as my moniker, the Ultimate Cheapskate, might make you think. It’s about the choices we make every day about earning and spending money and the priorities we set for ourselves on the basis of those choices.
The Money Step
Ultimately each of the choices we’re going to look at in this book—whether it’s what kind of house you should buy or whether you have enough roughage in your diet—is a choice involving the Money Step.
The Money Step is the little dance of earning and spending we do pretty much every day of our life. It has three beats, like a waltz:
To spend money
To get what you want
[…or at least what you think you want]
The Money Step has become the default setting for the world we live in today. It’s now the rule, not the exception. We unconsciously, or consciously, take the Money Step when doing almost everything we do. The idea of getting what we really want by reducing or even entirely skipping the Money Step—a comfortable house without an uncomfortable mortgage, strong health without ever buying a gym membership, the ability to sleep nights knowing that we’re debt free—is a concept so out of vogue in our society it’s nearly extinct.
As we’ll see, questioning the Money Step is as much about deciding what you truly want and need as about deciding how best to get it. By the end of this book I hope you’ll start to question whether the Money Step should continue to be the default setting in your life. And throughout this book, as we look at different big–ticket items in the typical family budget, I encourage you to keep one key question in mind: Can you and your family skip, or at least limit, the Money Step and go straight to the real prize?
The Allegory of the Ax and the Basketball
I first came to appreciate—indeed fixate on—the Money Step during my twenty–five–year career as a CEO and fundraiser in the nonprofit sector. Operating in an environment where money is always scarce and goals are rarely measured just in dollars, I spent my days finding creative ways to avoid, or at least mitigate as much possible, the Money Steps that stood between my organization and the mission it was created to serve.
You might say that my vocation as a nonprofit manager was achieving success without the use of money, or at least without a lot of it. “The nonprofit sector is fortunate to be immune from economic downturns,” I used to tell my staff, “because in the nonprofit world, the economy always sucks.” Much of what I learned during those years rubbed off on my personal life and finances, or maybe the other way around, making my transition to the Ultimate Cheapskate a natural one.
But looking back on it now, I guess I should have grasped the concept of the Money Step years before, as a result of a horrifically embarrassing incident in my youth. The symbolic significance of the episode was lost on me at the time, but I now understand and deeply appreciate the prophetic importance of what I call the Allegory of the Ax and the Basketball.
When I was at the age of sixteen, an age not associated with great wisdom, yet one at which you’ve presumably learned something about the basic laws of physics, my brother, Joel, and I were chopping firewood along the banks of the Maumee River in rural Ohio. The winter ice had just broken, and with the spring melt the water was running high. The driftwood was piling up along the shoreline faster than we could cut and split it.
If you’ve never witnessed an ice breakup on a river of any size, I can tell you it’s a powerful event. Foot–thick chunks of ice churned down the riverbed, sounding like a crushed ice dispenser on the door of an expensive refrigerator. The ice flows packed so much speed and power that occasionally they’d pitch a live catfish or sucker out of the water and onto the shore. You couldn’t live on a riverbank as we did and not mark the year by the day the ice breaks.
When the ice breaks up, it pushes anything and everything downstream—not just driftwood but flotsam and jetsam of all kinds. Growing up, we’d seen it all: pontoon boats, beer kegs, duck blinds, ice chests, furniture, oil drums, refrigerators, a travel trailer, and our most prized recovery, a store mannequin with lifelike breasts (or at least we thought so at that age). This particular day the pickings were a little slim, but a plump basketball eventually came along, just close enough to the shore that we could wade into the icy water and pull it in with a long stick.
Although my brother and I both are well over six feet tall, we are Yeagers and thus far too uncoordinated to actually play basketball. We had little use for the newfound treasure, despite the peril involved in rescuing it. We took turns hurling the ball at each other, bouncing it off some rocks and trees, and we'd all but lost interest in it when my brother had a proposition for me.
“Hey, Gook [his brotherly term of endearment for me], I’ll give you five bucks if you can chop it in half with the ax,” he said, pointing at the basketball. To reinforce his point, he produced a soggy five–dollar bill from the pocket of his blue jeans.
“What is he, crazy?” I thought. “Easy money!”
Without a second thought, I picked up the ax, swung it high above my head, and brought it down on the basketball with all my heft. I wasn’t just going to chop it in half; I was going to obliterate that thing.
Frankly, it never—even for a nanosecond—occurred to me that the basketball might withstand the blow of the ax. All I was thinking about at the time was what I would do with the money and how good I’d feel pulling the five–spot out of my brother’s hand. I was so focused on the money that the possible consequences of the endeavor never crossed my mind.
Gosh, telling the story now, I feel so stupid. Of course the ax didn’t puncture the basketball, and since I’d swung it with such passion, the force of the ricochet redoubled off the taut ball. The ax rebounded instantaneously, the flat back hitting me squarely in the forehead, right between the eyes.
I staggered backward, my lanky teenage frame reeling. My vision blurred as if I were suddenly inside the lava lamp in my bedroom, looking out. The last thing I remember before I passed out and fell to the ground was the sight of my brother falling to the ground first, bent double in a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
After I came to—well, actually, about thirty years after I came to—I realized three important things about this spectacularly stupid incident:
1. I assumed that getting the money would be easy.
2. The possible consequences of trying to get the money never crossed my mind.
3. Because of No. 1 and No. 2, it never occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t try to get the money, that I should skip the Money Step.
Does any of that sound familiar? Maybe it even hits you right between the eyes?
But where does that leave us as we lead our lives in this era of abundance, with unlimited opportunities to chase after more money and a perennial search for genuine happiness? If more money and more stuff aren’t the key to happiness, is it possible, as I learned when I brought that ax down on the basketball, that their pursuit might actually lead us to greater unhappiness?
Money: It’s Not All It’s Cracked Up to Be
If money talks, then it tells a lot of lies. That’s not just the conclusion I’ve come to in my own life, the reason I’ve decided to embrace rather than shun my Inner Miser, but it’s a conclusion supported by the experience of an increasing number of the superrich, like Bill Gates and Warren Buffett, as they strive to rid themselves of at least some of their wealth. Talking about his ranking as the world’s richest man, Gates said, “I wish I wasn’t. There is nothing good that comes of that.”
Researchers who study such things report that when it comes to the relationship between wealth and happiness, there’s not much to report. There really isn’t one. Daniel Gilbert, a professor of psychology at Harvard, writes in his thought–provoking book Stumbling on Happiness (Alfred A. Knopf, 2006):
Economists and psychologists have spent decades studying the relation between wealth and happiness, and they have generally concluded that wealth increases human happiness when it lifts people out of abject poverty and into the middle class but that it does little to increase happiness thereafter…It hurts to be hungry, cold, sick, tired, and scared, but once you’ve bought your way out of these burdens, the rest of your money is an increasingly useless pile of paper.
My experience as a professional fundraiser dealing with some extremely wealthy people convinced me that Gilbert and other social scientists speak the truth: There is no relationship between wealth and happiness beyond some point just north of the U.S. poverty line. In the nonprofit sector, perhaps more than in any other area, you get a chance to interact with both extremes of the economic spectrum, very wealthy donors and very needy clients. Even though it’s a purely anecdotal observation, I can tell you that the multimillionaires I’ve met have generally struck me as less joyful than lots of folks I’ve encountered on the other end of the teeter–totter and as usually much less content than most of us in between. I think Ben Franklin nailed it: “Who is rich? He that rejoices in his portion.”
Enough Is Enough
How much money do you want? That’s the question I asked time after time as I spoke with people while writing this book. That’s the question I want you to ask yourself right now. Forget about whether it’s an attainable amount or a rational goal, and answer it as you would a word association test, with the first thing that pops into your mind. (If you’re a guy, I know that it’s hard to see past the naked ladies dancing on the stage of your frontal lobe, but go ahead and try.)
Excerpted from The Ultimate Cheapskate's Road Map to True Riches by Jeff Yeager Copyright © 2007 by Jeff Yeager. Excerpted by permission.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Jeff Yeager has truly created the road map for not only finding your inner cheapskate but also finding what is of true value in your life. It seems that so many people talk about being happy but Jeff seems to have found the road that leads right to joy. Living your life within 'actually under' your means allows you to truly experience life rather than worrying about how the next bill is going to get paid. Too often when people are trying to determine how they are going to retire it seems to come down to making more instead of learning how to live in such a way that you can be free from the constant strain of keeping up with others or making that next payment. My fiance and I always have a great time together, we always seem to have fun but we also spent a lot of money at times. After reading this book we find we still have a riot but we spend a heck of a lot less money. It's amazing all the ways you can save and we have found it both to be fun and creative to come up with new ways to go out and have a great time while spending less or nothing at all. When we started planning our wedding and everything we read said to plan to spend $20,000 I though 'heck no!' 'ok maybe that wasn't the language I used but you get the idea'. I picked up the challenge and we're planning a great time for family and friends without spending a ridiculous amount of money. This book can change your whole outlook on money and what it takes to have a happy fulfilling life if you pick it up and give it a read. If your goal is outdoing everyone on your block, why not try outdoing them with the size of the joy in your life rather than the size of your house. Be cheap everyone! Live well!
Part wit, part wisdom, makes reading Jeff Yeager's book more fun than a trip to the Dollar Store. The book, chock full of brighter and cheaper ways to be in the world, is a must read for cheapskates and extreme spenders alike. Jeff's advice, and the humorous way he delivers it, will excite that part of the brain you thought long dead. You know, the saving, thrifty, I'm on the lookout for loose change part. Once you stop laughing, new techniques for saving money and preserving our planet are a sure bet. A treasure trove of great advice. Straight up. On the rocks.
I listened to the audio edition of this book and truly enjoyed it. Jeff Yeager is proud to be cheap and with his book he wants to teach us how we too can live cheap and be happy. Even though his ideas weren't all that radical just one or two generations ago, nowadays they may sound like crazy talk to some of us. Unfortunately our society is all about consumerism yet it fails to make us truly happy. That's why a new way of thinking might be in order. Jeff's proposal is simple: Instead of striving to earn more and more so that we can spend more and more, why not learn to spend less and be happy with less? He offers a variety of tips in his book how we can accomplish this. From never spending more than $1 per pound on food, to getting an oil change only every 7500 miles instead of the usual 3000 miles. There are some good insights in every chapter and even if you don't implement all of them, just one or two can make a difference in your life.
Good book with some helpful advice, but kind of goes off the deep end in a few places. Overall, fairly practical. Presents the thought that sometimes the way to riches involves working and earning less and enjoying life more.
I'm fine with the fact that most of this book was common sense. That's the only kind of personal finance book I'm going to trust anyway. The fact that everyone knows how they *should* spend/save/eat/etc doesn't magically make it happen and regular reminders and reinforcements are very useful.What made the book almost unendurable for me (but I did finish it) was the cheesy sense of humor, especially when it crossed over into repeated requests for sexy photos from female readers and regular slams of Suze Orman. Not even her advice -- just her appearance. I've never watched her shows or whatever, but that's just inappropriate on general principle. Several principles, really. I also get plenty of Stan Lee's style from Stan Lee himself, but that's just tiring, not offensive. Also charming - Every chapter begins with a handful of 'clever' quotes and at least one in each batch is from the author.There were some valid points mixed into all that. Thinking in terms of choices rather than sacrifices. Settling for less beats being unsettled. Fiscal fasting and 'What was I thinking?' audits. References to Dominguez and Robin. And a really tasty sounding pasta and sausage dish.I disagree that small savings (like the popular Starbucks ban) are useless. It all depends on what you do with the funds instead, and some people really can accumulate them for a useful purpose. Staying in the first house that you buy makes all kinds of fiscal and psychological sense if you can do it (I particularly liked the part about being able to decorate for yourself rather than for the market) but many of us have careers that require regular relocation. Not to mention aging parents, etc. I do agree that giving up a car is easier than people realize because I don't have one myself; and that's in an area with no public transportation. Asking to telecommute in lieu of a raise, however, is very creative thinking but unlikely to work out for most readers.Unavoidable with his nonprofit background, but the advice to regularly read books about people who are truly suffering to help keep perspective isn't going to be attempted by many readers. It's not even particularly relevant. He's also a terrible travel snob.
This guy is a joke, too bad he can't tell one! After reading through chapter after chapter of what he thinks is humor, I was disappointed in buying this book. Yes, he has some money-saving tips, but many of his tips are down-right miserly. I didn't find this book helpful and now at least I know to steer clear of his other writings!
I read about this book in the Washington Post "Book Review" section in 2006 or 2007, where it came highly recommended, and finally purchased and read it on my e-reader this past month. It's written in a very humorous and lighthearted voice, yet carries many important tips as well as sound advice. The author's premise is that we can just as well build our savings by spending less than by earning more. (Of course, the combination of earning more AND spending less would be ideal! haha) He makes a good point in the beginning of the book about 'being happy with less' as opposed to 'needing more to be happy'. The book reminded me of a comment a close friend from a developing country made once during her second visit to the USA, which was that in the States "needs are created" so that people think they need more and more and more, losing sight of the fact that their basic needs have already been met. Jeff Yeager - the author of this book - makes this argument (in my case, he was 'preaching to the choir', but so nice to read someone that agrees with me!) and provides concrete examples of how we can espouse the philosophy in practice and save more by spending less. The book had me laughing out loud in some sections, and includes concrete, practical examples of areas in which we can spend less, save more and also help combat world hunger and other ailments by giving excess to charity. Already, since finishing this book, I've been spending less money and putting more into my savings account. My only regret is that I didn't read this in college!
I thought the book was pretty funny and a reality check. What I thought was interesting that the writer can be a real cheapskates and also Most now I write Most writers that help you save money don't have children. I really would like to see a saving guru or financial planner tell you how to deal with preteen and teenagers with a budget.
This book offered some good tidbits on savings. It was fun to read and I learned a little at the same time. I would say the book is not for the "hardcore budget mizer wanna be".
This book should be compulsory reading, not simply during these economically exciting times but, perhaps more appropriately, during our days of fiscal fecundity. For Jeff Yeagar is not concerned with the miserly pinching of pennies as a means of accruing more and more wealth, his goal is to free us from our infantile dependency on money and help us get the green monkey off of our backs.
To this end, Yeager gently and humorously takes us by the hand and leads us, one step at a time, away from the dysfunctional (some might say, abusive) relationship we have with money to demonstrate how we can become the dominant partner. (Leather jodhpurs and riding crop, one must suppose, are optional, but if you do insist, pick them up at a thrift sale.)
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Yeager's ideas are as simple as they are radical and he conveys them through folksy anecdotes and witty writing. At the very least, one must accept his sincerity (obsession?). While it's hard to imagine another human being adopting all of the behaviors espoused in the book, full adherence is unnecessary; you need only to take on board a few of the principles to greatly improve your life and your relationship with money, which, let's face it, is your life.
Buy this book; after you read it, you may never buy another (that's what libraries are for).
The Ultimate Cheapskate's book should be required reading for every consumer. I found this book to be very well written and easy to read. In fact, as a busy mother of 9 year old twin boys, I read this book in just over a week. Jeff Yeager puts into words the way I live my life! He obviously has a great sense of humor which makes the book a lot of fun. The book also makes you think about choices we make in life and how they can influence your financial situation. I hope to become one of his 'Miser Advisors' and I also hope to see more books from this author! Bravo!
The book is not overwhelming to read and has a light comical format. It puts spending into perspective along with needs and wants and what is enough. This book helped me to think of ways to be more resourceful and less wastefull. I especially like the segment about finishing in a starter house , logic to saving money on groceries,doing things yourself to save $$ and simply taking care of things to last longer. Jeff adds personal stories that are entertaining and illustrative. This book will motivate you to enjoy more by spending less!
I found Ultimate Cheapskate's Road Map to True Riches interesting, easy to read, and full of good tips for someone, like me, who likes to be thrifty. The chapter on saving money on food offered ideas that I had not thought about before and mentioned one of my favorite stores, Dollar General. I hope the author will give us another book soon.