Airstream Funding: Creative Idea #1

If you read my last post, you know I've decided the only way to make the Airstream® dream a reality is to get creative with financing it. So here's the first idea. I should give credit where credit is due. The inspiration for this idea came from Abraham Simpson.

Create a tontine.

A tontine is an investment plan for raising capital, devised in the 17th century and relatively widespread in the 18th and 19th. It combines features of a group annuity and a lottery. Each subscriber pays an agreed sum into the fund, and thereafter receives an annuity. As members die, their shares devolve to the other participants, and so the value of each annuity increases. On the death of the last member, the scheme is wound up. In a variant, which has provided the plot device for most fictional versions, on the death of the penultimate member the capital passes to the last survivor. --from Wikipedia.

airstreamext.jpg

Here's how my tontine idea might work: I find 50 or so people looking for an investment opportunity. Each "investor" puts in $1,000 and they own one of fifty shares. I "lease" the Airstream from the tontine for $200 a month. 

          $200 / 50(investors)=$4 x 12(months)=$48. A 4.80% annual yield.

But who wants to make an investment that takes 20 plus years to break even? That's where the lottery fun comes in. Upon the death of each member of the tontine, their share divides among the remaining members.

So following the death of the first ten members:

          $200 / 40(investors)=$5 x 12(months)=$60. A 6.00% APY.

When half the members are gone the annual yield becomes 8.00%. And so on. Basically we go to a funeral then recalculate our earnings.

Upon my death, assuming I'm not the last to die, the Airstream is sold. The proceeds are invested in an interest-bearing account agreed upon by the remaining members. Members continue to take their annual piece of the earnings pie at the end of each year. Obviously the pieces of the earnings pie get bigger with each and every death.

Upon the death of the last remaining member, the balance in the account will be given to a previously-agreed-upon charity like Compassion International. Why would the proceeds not go to the last remaining member or his designee? Well, historically, tontines are known to result in a few coincidental, untimely deaths--perhaps people vying for that coveted last-to-die position?

One of the huge upsides of the plan is all the old pharts in the group will want to take better care of themselves since their return improves as they survive the deaths of other members. 

Obvious question: Isn't a travel trailer a lousy investment.

Not so obvious answer: If we're talking SOBs (Some Other Brand); yes, that would be true. But we're talking Airstream. They hold their value extremely well and in fact, once they reach "vintage" status at 20 years old, they actually begin to increase in value. Of course all that only matters if I'm not the last to die.

Let me know if you're interested. You have to be my age or older to play. ;-)

 

Creativity As Capital

What does it always come down to? Money! Or does it? Mostly yes, but it doesn't have to. If only I could get that message to the elected who are constipating our nation. (Oops, I almost slipped into political commentary there.) And here at About POPS we leave that exercise in futility to other forums.

Yesterday, we (I) returned from our favorite Ford dealership forlorn. It's not the fault of our favorite father/son sales team or Alan Mullally. They did all they could. But the reality is that the "TV" we need exceeds our budget. (I didn't know until recently that "TV" in RV parlance means "Tow Vehicle".

You see in my dream-scheme to have an Airstream® I was thinking only about which Airstream would be best for the vision I had. A few times during the search, I've said out loud, "This is the one; and look, it's a great deal!" Several times we've actually gone to walk through, kick the tires, and picture ourselves sitting next to a cold, clear stream, with rainbow trout jumping and the grandgirls frolicking nearby.

My Amazing-Missus reins me back to reality. "Aren't you getting the cart before the horse?" she says. "More accurately, why are you shopping for a cart when you don't even have a horse to pull it?"

That reality is why we were at the Ford dealership. Now, to my friends who sell and/or are loyal to other brands, let me explain that the decision to look at Fords was based on extensive Googling about the best TV to have. Consensus is that the Ford F-150 with an Eco-Boost V6, trailer-towing package and a 3.55:1 axle is the way to go. Turns out that even though we're in the "final days" of something called "The Ford Built Tough Sales Event," I would still have to finance the thing beyond my life-expectancy to be able to afford the payments.

If I knew for sure that those radio evangelists you pick up in the small numbers of your AM dial were right about their take on the "Final Days", I would tell our sales-guys, "We'll take a His and Hers pair." I'll pull, she can push.

To be honest, I found the budget hill so formidable that I actually told my Amazing-Missus I was dropping this dream along with the one about seeing the Beatles play live, and the one about hanging out in a English pub with The Inklings, and the one about living in a Chicago loft overlooking Lake Michigan...

Our Amazing Daughter-in-Law called while we were Ford F-150 shopping, so she knew what we were up to. Later she texted to see how the search went. I explained to her that it looked like the dream was being dashed against the rocks of that beautiful shoreline, I had dreamt of camping beside some day.

Apparently she shared with our oldest grandgirl, Karlee, that our budget was short. Karlee told her, "I will give Pops all the money in my piggy-bank if he will only take me to Walt Disney World in the Airstream."

piggybank.jpg

Exchanging my dream for one less-expensive is one thing. But when my grandgirl has the vision too, how can I give up now?!

So to my premise that money is not always the problem; lack of creativity is, I'm going to have to get creative big time. It's going to take all my creativity and the contents of Karlee's piggy bank to make this dream reality.

Walt Disney World: here we come!

Stay tuned to hear the results of the creative brainstorming. And by all means, if you have any ideas, bring them on. 

 

There's That Song Again

Is there an "adventure" gene in guys? If there is, maybe its powers run inverse to T-Levels. Why else would old guys pursue things like Harleys®, Vespas®, boats, RVs and/or Trophy-Wives? Could it be that there are sirens out there luring us with their song?

The Siren, oil on canvas, Leeds Art Gallery

The Siren, oil on canvas, Leeds Art Gallery

[I wish I could remember which humor-blessed person commented on a guy's not-so-lovely Trophy Wife, "She obviously wasn't the First Place Trophy."]

My Amazing-Missus has lovingly tolerated my adventure seeking for many years and several pursuits: Huge career change, Moving our young family to a tiny, wonderful community in western Oklahoma, a sailboat, a Vespa (as long as I wear my helmet and florescent green vest), and now--drum roll--an Airstream® travel trailer.

It's not actually the old geezer RV life that is appealing to me, in fact that's a stereotype I want to avoid completely. You know the image: old guys in the black support socks and those one-piece jump suit things, comparing the sizes of each others holding tanks, bragging of how many slide-outs their rig has.

I'm sorry if I may have offended some with my characterization, but hey, if the velcro-close SAS® fits, wear it. The fact is some of those guys are heroes of mine.

For me, it's answering the call of the open road in an iconic, classic, silvery piece of art. For now, it's simply in the exploring the possibilities stage: Googling, reading blogs, lusting after the life of the adventurous "full-timers." Yes, there are people who have sold all and are living full time in an Airstream travel trailer.

When I first mentioned this to my Amazing-Missus, I'm surprised she didn't say, "Have you ever thought about looking for a trophy wife?" But no! We loaded in the car and made a six-hour road trip to walk through brand new, shiny, Airstreams!

Now I know why hardcore Airstreamers refer to "SOBs." They speak of their beloved icons and then the class of all other RVs as "Some Other Brand." Airstreams rise to the level of having a mystique that extends way beyond the physical thing. And as happens with these types of phenomena, followers take on a cult-like persona. Pass me the Kool-Aid®.

In my Airstream fantasy, our quest starts sooner rather than later, after all, I'm not getting any younger. I quickly learned, however, that my dream-stream exceeds the cash-on-hand. And I don't like the idea of going in to debt for expensive toys; OR, is this an investment in the journey of a lifetime. Let the justification begin.

Stay tuned for more… In the meantime, What does your current mad adventure look like?