As Hard as You Try, You Can’t Teach Calculus to a Squirrel

 

As we thankfully put 2020 in our rear-view mirrors, I went back reviewed the quantity of webinars and articles we put forth in this very atypical year and I was at the same time both heartened and dismayed.

Heartened by the fact that our production bordered on prodigious, with nearly 30 CPE presentations including those at many of the major industry conferences and more than a half-dozen articles for the top accounting publications.

Dismayed by the fact that as hard as we tried this year, some people just do not get it when it comes to succession planning – and likely won’t. Ever.

Of the hundreds of PowerPoint slides and thousands of words, there was not one session or article that encouraged succession procrastination – not one. Yet on more than one occasion over the course of this year it sometimes felt like I was presenting a calculus syllabus to a squirrel. And sadly, with the same results.

Case in point.

I was working with a firm in the Northeast. The firm had two partners, ages 76 and 69. That enough was cause for concern, amplified by the fact that each wanted to work five more years. I tried to imbue them with the realities of the current marketplace that very few firms would be flexible about a timeline like that. Then, also among their list of demands was a sizeable down payment. Another no-no in this climate.

Don’t Make Me Stop This Car…

It what seems like a lifetime ago, our family piled into a cherry red 1961 Rambler American and embarked on a summer road trip to scenic Cape Cod. During the four-hour drive, my brother and I like typical 8-and 6-year-olds, became bored playing the usual driving games like spotting out of state license plates and began an impromptu wrestling match in the back seat – an act that drew dire warnings from my father who threatened to stop the car on at least three occasions in the middle of the Massachusetts Turnpike.

Once there, we unpacked and headed out to lunch. This is where unanimity went out like the Cape Cod tide. Since we’re in prime seafood country, my parents pulled alongside an oceanfront fish house. At that age, the thought of fried flounder or baked clams took a far back seat to a burger and hot dogs and we let them know in no uncertain terms of our menu preferences. Sadly, our voting and monetary leverage on the matter was as close to zero as possible and we were forced to settle for fish sticks and an oversized bowl of clam chowder.

I was too young at that point to realize the importance of everyone being on the same page, a concept I learned, often painfully, as I got older. Yet it never ceases to amaze me how many CPA firms overlook that critical consensus – particularly when contemplating a merger.

Jingle Bells… Costco Sells….and Sells…and Sells….

 

The other day, I received my copy of Costco Connection, the monthly print publication of the giant big box retailer of which our family has been a member for nearly 20 years.

At Chez Carlino, the holidays represent our largest (i.e., read: most expensive) visit to the venue as we stock up for the traditional Christmas bacchanal, which in scope, would most likely even prompt the entire offensive line of the New York Giants to scramble for the antacid after dessert. For this visit we take the SUV and put down the back seats to accommodate the haul.

From paper goods to flat screen TVs to a grocery and meat department big enough to amply service a cruise ship, the 800-unit international brand unlike competitors like Wal-Mart, does no advertising behind its regular coupon mailings, among other interesting facets of its operation.

I recently came across an article that detailed some of Costco’s more unique features, notwithstanding the fact it sells more than 1 billion rolls of toilet paper a year and generates in excess of $160 billion in revenue.

Its global popularity reaches markets far beyond New York or California. When it cut the ribbon on its first unit in China it had to shut down temporarily because nearly 10,000 shoppers tried to sardine their way in on opening day.

Student Loan Forgiveness – the Next Subprime Debacle

In 1979, I was earning a modest $11,000 a year at one of those tedious entry level jobs that some of us manage to get literally hours out of college. All was going smoothly as could be expected for a first timer in the workforce until roughly six months later when I received my first invoice for my student loans.

Between rent, a car and a new work wardrobe, $11,000 goes only so far and the thought of another expense slicing an already thin pie even smaller, I spent a lot of time trying to determine where I could cut costs.

It took four years but somehow, I managed to pay them all off.

Fast forward 40 years.

Student loan debt in the U.S. has now morphed into a $1.6 trillion dollar behemoth with 30 percent or more of borrowers defaulting on loans. To put that dollar figure in perspective, it is about 10 times larger than the Savings & Loan crisis of the 1980s.

Now there are myriad reasons for this – a steep decline in government investment in colleges, the explosion of online learning and last but not least, individual choices of students who eschew more tuition reasonable state schools or community colleges in lieu of far pricier private colleges. Compounding that dubious choice of higher learning institutions many graduates with what I like to civilly refer to as “toilet paper” degrees. Meaning that in the real world, they’re good for little else.