I Sold My Car Today

For the first time since I was 16, I am officially carless. There's not a single piece of heavy machinery registered under the name "Michael Briddon" in the state of Massachusetts. No, sir. No ride. No wheels. No whip.

I sold my Nissan today at 10:30 AM as part of our new plan, hatched by my beautiful wife, to pay off all of our debt in 2013. This chunky transaction is going to help me annihilate the rest of my college and graduate school loans. In a word: Boom. In four words: Take that, higher education.

What's amazing is how fast it all happened. On Tuesday, Bridget suggested a creative, aggressive financial plan she'll be discussing in an upcoming post. On Wednesday, we had a family meeting. On Thursday, I agreed.

And just like that, we committed to becoming a one-car family.

We opted to go to CarMax, which I highly recommend if you are looking to get rid of your vehicle. It took exactly 74 minutes from the moment we walked in the door to the moment we walked out with a check in hand. We met with a nice guy named Rob, someone drove my car for two miles, and we left with 500 dollars more than I expected. (They even returned the Explosions in the Sky CD I'd left in the player.) It was that easy.

As we drove away in Bridget's, er, our, car, I expected to feel a moment of panic. Didn't I just give up my freedom? What if I wanted to drive across the country next weekend? What if we got a huge fight about turning the cable off and the only escape was the open road? None of those thoughts, though, gave me pause. Instead, I was excited about paying off my loans and taking another giant leap toward a better financial future.

Plus, there were these reasons:

• We live in Cambridge and every mode of public transportation is minutes away on foot. 
• I was really sick of moving my car for street cleaning. (I'll never forget the day I came home and panicked because I thought our cars were stolen. Two hundred forty bucks later, I had them both back. It wasn't the best night of my life.)
• I don't have to pay an excise tax anymore. I don't really know what it is anyway. Do you? I mean, sure, I could Google it in a few seconds, but I'd rather just be ignorant on this one. Stupid excise tax. 

Are there risks with having only one car? Sure. It could break down. We could get in an accident. We could both want it some Saturday afternoon. But I think the benefits far outweigh the detriments and it's the right decision in the long run.

Just don't tell 16-year-old Mike. He'd think it was a dumb idea. 

The Art of Daily Communication

I was sitting at my desk at 11:45 AM this past Thursday. By all measures, it had been a fine and typical morning in the life of an editor. I had just done an interview, had polished up a couple documents, and was about to get ready for an afternoon meeting. Something didn't feel right, though.

Then it hit me: I hadn't heard from Bridget yet.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Ugh. Where's the back button on this damn browser? I don't want to read this sappy prose about how this insufferable couple talks to each other every 10 minutes.

Don't worry; that's not my angle. Well, not completely.

Lately, I'm finding myself fascinated by how couples communicate on a daily basis -- especially at work. Do they text all day? Are they glued to Gchat? Do they call each other once? Twice? Every hour on the hour? Or do they say goodbye in the morning and hello in the evening?

I, like most of you, I'd guess, have seen all of these techniques in action. There's the couple that talks every day for their entire lunch break. (A little too much? Maybe.) There's the couple that seems more like buddies than romantic partners. (Not enough? Maybe.) And there's the couple that seems to have it all together. (They never do, of course, but appearances are powerful things.)

Obviously, there's no secret sauce and no silver bullets. What works for one couple might be a nightmare for another.

Which brings me back to Thursday morning. After my realization, I texted Bridget: "Morning! How was your drive?" She texted back a couple minutes later: "Good, but I hate traffic. I'm really looking forward to seeing you tonight." I'll stop there and spare you the sugar-coated electronic conversation, but that little daily communication is incredibly important to us. It's not always meaningful, but it's a small way to say, "Hey, I'm thinking about you and I want you to know it."

(For the record, we exchanged four text messages during work and three after work when I went to the bar for a bit. I'd say that's pretty average for us.)

I wondered, mostly to myself, if our daily communication would change after we got married last March. We'd always stayed in great touch during the day, which I thought was a pretty great thing. But I wondered if having more security meant we wouldn't feel the need to check in as much. So far, that hasn't happened. It could, of course, but I secretly hope it doesn't.

What about you? How often do you communicate with your partner during the day?

Three Reasons We're Cutting the Cord on Cable

I had one of those life-changing moments on New Year's Day. I sat, quietly, on our new couch and stared at the TV. And stared. And stared. I was engrossed. In what? I have no idea. It was either a Family Guy re-run or the Pillsbury Groupon Zipcar Magnavox Powerade Ed's Tire and Automotive Supply Bowl between Alcorn State and Simmons College. The point is, I didn't care what was on the screen.

The moment, the question, hit me like a bolt of lightning: Mike, what the hell are you doing?

The next six words left my mouth in a hurry: "Hun, let's get rid of cable." The response, to my surprise, was simple and positive: "Okay." Just like that, the plan was in place. We were going to become one of those families without cable.

We'd had quick conversations before, but Bridget's love of everything related to Real Housewives and my love of sports ended the discussions. This time, though, we're for real. And here are the three reasons why our decision will stick in 2013:

1. We waste a lot of time watching TV. Like a lot of people and a lot of couples, we come home from work (especially in the winter) and mindlessly find the remote. We hit power, make dinner, and settle on something we can both endure. (I've written about this before.) What. a. damn. waste. And it's all because it's easier and it's part of our routine. But between eye-opening books, the art of the conversation, the massive connectivity of the Internet,  the joy of writing, and, of course, our iPads, there are so many more valuable things to do. Will we still watch TV? Sure, every once in a while. We're keeping Hulu and Netflix -- and there are several bars and restaurants down the street when Syracuse has a big game -- but we'll most certainly watch a lot less of the idiot box. And I can't help but think it will make us more interesting people.

2. We won't have to deal with Comcast as much. We're keeping our wireless Internet, obviously, because we're not insane. So we won't be able to completely divorce ourselves from the frustrating world of cable companies, but this is certainly going to make things easier. No more, "Sir, for an extra $34.99, you can have Showtime for 11 days and 10 nights" or "Well, yes, but that was the Triple Play Special. If you want Internet and cable this year, it's going to cost $28 more for no specific reason." Or my personal favorite during those hair-pulling phone Comcast calls, "Hmm, let me see if the computer will let me lock in that rate for you. Oh, it's saying no. This system just isn't playing nice today ... Sir? Are you still there? Sir? Sir?"

3. We'll save about $60 a month. Will we be able to retire early because of our cable chop? No. But $60 is $60. That's a quick dinner out, a photo-to-canvas project, or 1/8 of one of Bridget's haircut. (Just kidding.) With the changes in the payroll tax in 2013, we'll make good use of the three extra $20 bills each month.

Our quest for a better, more productive, cable-free life, is just getting underway. I'm sure there will be bumps and hiccups along the way, but we're excited. And nervous.

Has anyone else done the cable chop? We'd love to hear your success -- and horror -- stories.