Dimensional Funds Advisor News Today

A couple of years ago, I was giving an investment presentation at the Radisson Blu Resort, on the Mediterranean island of Malta. Afterward, the company’s manager invited my wife and me to dinner. I sat beside a wealthy British man who made his fortune in real estate. “I was fascinated by your presentation on index funds,” he said.

My wife and I recently had dinner with two young women. We hadn’t met them before we connected through an online social group in Panama City, Panama.  One was a twenty-six-year-old German photographer whose husband helps start-up businesses. The second was a twenty-eight-year-old Australian who works online with her partner. I always enjoy meeting people. There’s a blank slate.

I sat on a small swing while looking out at the Caribbean sea. To my left was a private shower that any guest could use. Two private rooms were behind that shower. Immediately behind me were two hammocks and a large table from which a handful of guests would soon be eating breakfast. Marco, our host and a fabulous chef, prepared breakfast in the kitchen.

A few years ago, a company’s director asked me to speak to his employees about saving and investing. Before I began the presentation, he privately explained why he invited me. “I don’t want my employees to make the same mistake I made,” he said. He earned several million dollars a year. And although he looked rich, if he lost his job, he only had enough savings to sustain his lifestyle for a handful of months.

I had never seen a “Help Wanted” sign above a men’s urinal before. But there it was…in a Bechtelsville, Pennsylvania Walmart. It offered $18 an hour, plus benefits and a promise to pay for college education fees. The state’s minimum wage, which hasn’t increased in 15 years, is $7.25 an hour.

Why I don’t Include “Play Money” In My Portfolio Written By: Andrew Hallam A couple of years ago, my wife and I spent 17 months living in a camper van while traveling through Mexico and Central America. That doesn’t mean you should. To you, that might sound like hell–especially if you (like we did) had to share that space. After all, our bed is only four feet from the toilet. And the toilet is about three feet from the fridge. We brag that we almost killed each ot...