So I was talking to my carpool buddy ("Speedster Susy") on the way to work and something she said freaked me out. Her friend is having a 2.5 million dollar house built in Calabasas (a swanky neighborhood west of the valley). "My God!" I answered, "Is she Colombian and sells drugs?!” "No she isn't/doesn't, she inherited it". My response "That Be-otch!!” Her Dad worked as a pilot, saved like a madman, and tragically died relatively young. And now his daughter is grieving. By building a $2,500,000.00 (I like to write it with numbers to give the full effect) house in the hills next to Kirk Cameron, Melissa Gilbert, and 'Nick & Jessica'. This information also had me thinking about my own life. My wife and I save, invest, don't spend lavishly (except maybe on our daughter's 1st birthday) and hopefully will have a pretty comfortable retirement traveling, living long off of over-priced prescription drugs and robotic body parts. The point being, we get to spend our earned, tax planned, deferred-gratification cash (On a freakin' sweet Porsche if I want!). But what if something happened and our daughter gets a windfall, does nothing, no ambition, smokes crack, and builds a 2.6 million dollar house next door? It's a scary thought...one that requires "a plan" -to live-forever!! Just kidding. Or am I...?
I'm always so jealous of people that inherit large sums of money. Hubz says he's going to set our kids up so they have money or real estate or something really good when we croak. That's fine with me as long as I don't feel deprived while I'm alive.
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