Smartphone Addiction

A while back I read an essay by August Lamm, whose journey from social media influencer to ditching her smart phone struck a chord with a lot of people, including a book publisher. The plan was to write a short pamphlet called “You Don’t Need a Smartphone” and follow it up with a full-length book. By this point, Lamm was using a flip-phone, but that didn’t stop the publishing team from sending massive amounts of emails, texts, calls and Google invites about Zoom meetings, deadlines, Google docs, press releases, social media strategies, and the like. Lamm explains it far better than I do – she’s an excellent writer – but the upshot was that her efforts to write about downgrading and reclaiming her life was leading her to do the exact opposite; she was glued to an electronic device at all times, stressed out and not sleeping.

Ultimately, the pamphlet did get published, and I was intrigued enough with the topic to buy a copy, not because I feel like my smartphone has taken over my life, but because I wondered how she advised people on issues like how to enter sporting events or concerts without a phone, or how to pay bills or send people money? It’s no secret that a lot of things we used to do without smartphones are becoming increasingly reliant on smartphones.

Which is the point, says Lamm. It’s not an issue of self-control. Smartphones are designed to keep us on them, and there are powerful entities making sure that you do. But “screentime is not your time,” Lamm writes. “It’s an aggregate of other people’s time – their words and images, their pleas and ploys.”

My kids and I were some of the last people I knew to own a flip phone. I remember people making fun of me about it, asking me about how I could leave home without a phone. “I’m going shopping at Target,” I’d say. “Who do I need to talk to?” I finally acquiesced when familial logistics problems arose, and flip phones became useful tools in the interest of family harmony. Around three or four years later we purchased our first smartphones, which means I’ve owned a smartphone for less than twenty percent of my life, but that hasn’t stopped me from fully integrating it into my daily activity. And I’m not immune to picking up my phone to do one specific task, only to see that I’ve received a text message, and after checking the text completely forgetting why I picked up my phone in the first place. 

That’s a big part of the problem, says Lamm. The smartphone has combined dozens and dozens of everyday activities into one convenient package. Lamm is a big believer in disambiguation, restoring single-purpose devices into one’s life. Want to listen to music? Grab an old iPod, or better yet, play a CD or record (I still do!). Want to add some numbers? Get out the old calculator you left in your drawer a dozen years ago. Want to make a phone call? Get out your flip phone. Want to start dating? Join a club and socialize. Want to drive somewhere? Get out a map. Hell, I spent 45 years driving from place to place without the use of Google Maps, but I’ll be darned if it didn’t take just six months or so for me to become addicted to this tool.

“Precisely,” I can hear Lamm saying to me.

Lamm says that once she downgraded and broke the cycle of relying on her smartphone, a funny thing happened: she got her time back. She started doing things with more intent. Her book-reading increased, and sometimes she even started doing…nothing. Just being and not worrying about every minute of her day being productive. She writes, “As long as you are experiencing this time more vividly than you did screentime, you are reaping the benefits. Be bored. Be annoyed. At least you’re feeling something.”

Here's my quick take: smartphones are this grand experiment that we humans decided to enter into whole-hog without really understanding the repercussions (a common human trait), and I think it’s important that Lamm and others are discussing the issue of smartphone addiction, particularly for young people who’ve never known life without one. Her message has resonated with a lot of users.

As for me, I find that separating myself from my phone isn’t all that difficult for two big reasons: I don’t do social media or play games on my phone, and those to me are the biggest culprits of smartphone addiction. After all, these apps are designed to be addictive, and they lead to an incredible waste of time. And sure, I’ve wasted many hours on my phone, but most of the time I’m on it to do something specific, which is really what all of us should be striving for – do live with intent.

Reading Lamm’s pamphlet has inspired me to do two things: keep my phone out of my bedroom and keep it out of reach when I’m watching a movie or TV.  That will go a long way to keeping me engaged with what I’m doing.

For those who feel like their relationship with their phone has crossed a line, Lamm’s pamphlet may provide a roadmap for how to untangle oneself from this device. I wish her huge success with the publication, and I really do hope that one day she can write the book without it sucking her back into the world of electronics.

A Year of Great Live Music

It seems crazy that for about 18 months in 2020 and 2021, there was no live music. I wasn’t watching it. I wasn’t playing it. I was, well…I’m not sure what the heck I was doing for those 18 months. Can you remember what you were doing? I think that the old John Steinbeck quote from Travels With Charlie rings true: “Eventlessness collapses time.”

By the end of 2021 I’d gotten a few gigs and dipped my toes into watching live music again: one outdoors and one indoors with masks on. Some great shows, but for me the floodgates really opened this year, 2024, a magical year for music that will surely provide the signposts necessary to truly remember the time period, rather than having it float away in the ether of my fading memory.

What’s particularly gratifying is that I saw eight acts I’d never seen before in six venues I’d never visited before, including two iconic sites: The Troubadour and The Hollywood Bowl. Both were very cool to check out and rectify the preconceived mental pictures I’d conjured (turns out that The Troubadour isn’t narrow and deep, but wide and shallow. Who knew?). In addition, I’m happy that at least half a dozen acts are producing legitimate new material. In other words, I wasn’t only scratching the itch of seeing legacy acts. Finally, as I wrote about a few months ago, I got to see shows with two of my kids, my wife, my sister, and a bunch of buddies, adding another element of good feelings.

Without further ado, here’s the list:

January 27, Black Pumas, Salt Shed (indoors), Chicago, IL
March 22, The Lone Bellow, The Troubadour, West Hollywood, CA
April 18, Graham Parker, Old Town School of Folk, Chicago, IL
April 20, Robert Cray Band, Des Plaines Theater, Des Plaines, IL
June 8, James Taylor, Ravinia, Highland Park, IL
June 16, Joe Jackson, Cahn Auditorium, Evanston, IL
June 27, Mike Campbell and the Dirty Knobs, Pat McCurdy, The Dandy Warhols, The Hold Steady, Summerfest, Milwaukee, WI
August 17, Sara Bareilles with opener Renée Elise Goldsberry, Hollywood Bowl, Hollywood, CA
September 18, Keane with opener Everything Everything Chicago Theater, Chicago, IL
September 26, Lake Street Dive, Salt Shed (outdoors), Chicago, IL
October 8, Charles Heath Quartet, Andy’s Jazz Club, Chicago, IL
October 17, Saga, Arcada Theater, St Charles, IL
October 24, Stevie Wonder, Fiserv Forum, Milwaukee, WI
November 1, BEAT (80s King Crimson), Copernicus Center, Chicago, IL

In addition to these shows, I played live eighteen times, plus a church gig or two, I recorded 50 podcast episodes, I completed an album, wrote additional songs for my next project, purchased close to 100 records and CDs…if I’m being honest, by the time I saw BEAT in November, I was kind of finished. It’s been a hell of a great year for music.

To date, I have tickets to only one show in 2025, and given the amount of money my family has been spending lately, that may be the way it has to stay. It’s time to do more writing, recording and producing and less consuming!

Using a Donor Advised Fund (DAF) to offset a Roth IRA Conversion

It’s been a while since I’ve wrote out finances, so let’s dig in, and let me preface this by saying that I am not a financial professional; please consult a professional (as I did) before you embark on any significant tax-saving strategies.

Okay, with that out of the way, let’s summarize two things: one, I think charitable giving is important, as I’ve written about before in several different essays. If you have the ability to help others and you’re currently not doing so, or if you wonder if you could be doing more, please consider reading my blogs on this topic, and in particular read about Peter Singer and his philosophy about giving money wisely.

Two, I’d like to have as much retirement income in tax-free accounts as possible - in other words, Roth accounts. I’m happy to pay taxes and contribute to the United States every year, but I also want to do intelligent and legal things to mitigate the tax I pay. Rich people do it, so I figure my family should take advantage of the same strategies when possible.

Now, you’re legally allowed to transfer money from a pre-tax retirement account like a traditional IRA or a 401k into a Roth IRA, but it’s a taxable event, and paying a big extra chunk in taxes is prohibitive most of the time. So even though I want to have as much of our retirement savings in a ROTH IRA so that we can withdraw money tax-free in our retirement, I’m not willing to do so if it means paying taxes now.

With that in mind, I’d like to discuss a method of satisfying both desires - giving to charity and moving money into a Roth IRA - without increasing your taxes.

In 2022 I learned about Donor Advised Funds (DAFs), a device that allows you to move more than one year’s worth of charitable giving into a fund for future distribution. The idea is that if you are able to contribute several year’s worth of charitable giving into a DAF in one calendar year, then you can then itemize the deduction on your taxes. This became especially important a few years ago in states like Illinois with high state and property taxes, because after the SALT tax deduction was enacted, these deductions were capped at $10K. So in 2022, when the standard deduction was $25, 900, it required an addition $15,900 of charitable giving before you could benefit from itemizing your deductions. In 2024 the standard deduction is up to $29,200, so it takes nearly $20K of charitable giving to begin to itemize your deductions.

Now, I’m aware that we should give to give, not to reap financial benefits. I get it. But we can give a whole lot more if we do get a deduction, which is why charitable deductions are allowed in the first place - to spur charitable giving.

For argument’s sake, let’s say you have $100K in a brokerage account somewhere and you like to donate $20K a year to charities (and I recognize that these numbers might be pie-in-the-sky - I’m just trying to make it simple). Depending on your income (there are restrictions, so do your homework) you could take $100K from your traditional IRA or 401K and transfer it to a Roth IRA, and then offset the tax implications for this event by moving $100K from your brokerage account into a Donor Advised Fund. The two events should be close to a wash, and you’ll wind up paying around the same tax as you did last year. And now you have five-year’s worth of charitable giving ready to go!

Even better, you can move appreciated assets into the DAF tax free, thereby avoiding capital gains on that amount. And wait, there’s more! The assets you have in the DAF can grow over time, allowing you to give even more money to your favorite charities!

Pretty slick, eh? To me, it’s a no-brainer, and I’m surprised that this strategy isn’t discussed more on-the financial pages I read.

I studied this method for weeks, wondering if I was missing something, and finally bit the bullet and emailed a financial advisor who I hire from time to time for a flat fee (always a flat fee - never a percentage) and asked him about the above strategy. He wrote: “Love this strategy, we do it all the time. Yes, I approve everything you are planning as described in your email.” He then went on to explain a few specifics to be aware of that were helpful, so please do your homework and get the advice of a professional before you pull the trigger.

If you’re lucky enough to have some assets on-hand that you don’t need immediately and you believe in helping others, consider looking into this strategy. It’s a win win win win.

All Work and No Play

I read Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s newsletter fairly frequently, and without fail he has something insightful to offer (he’s as smart and as good a writer as he was at playing basketball, which seems a little unfair), often attributing his insight to his old UCLA basketball coach, John Wooden. A few months ago, Jabbar quoted Wooden: “Do not let making a living prevent you from making a life,” and Jabbar expanded on this teaching, saying, “It’s not just about taking more time off work to spend with friends and family, it’s also about how we lie to ourselves and others about our priorities. And how those lies prevent us from making a truly fulfilling life.”

Weighty stuff, that!

I’ve often professed that people are what they do, not what they say. It matters not if you say, “My children are the most important things in my life” if you rarely talk to, write to, visit or even think about them. It may be true that they hold a place in your heart, and I don’t want to diminish that, but the reality is that for many of us, we spend more time watching sports than we do with family, we spend more time working unnecessarily than we do pursuing friendships, and we spend more time scrolling through social media than we do pursuing a meaningful task. The time we spend doesn’t line up with what we claim to be most important in our lives.

Kareem goes on to comment on people who appear on reality shows and compete for money “for their family,” all the while spending more time away from family and begging for attention (like Elton John wanting to spend more time with family, and therefore embarking on a five-year farewell tour to prove it!). It’s a little harsh, but as Jabbar says, “People get married, buy houses, and put their kids through college without stranding themselves on an island or leaping forty feet into the water while grabbing a plastic flag.”

Wow. So how should we spend our time?

At the end of the movie Monty Python and the Meaning of Life, after 90 minutes of insane comedy sketches that include a grotesque live organ transplant and a large man vomiting profusely, the question of the meaning of life is finally answered: “Try to be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.”

You could do worse! 

But my pithy response to life’s biggest mystery is this: “The meaning of life is to live life meaningfully.”

If what you’re doing at this moment has meaning, you’re on to something. If it doesn’t, stop doing it and move on to another activity. Most of our time should be spent doing things that coincide with what’s most important. I’ve never been inclined to squander away a day, but I’ve been known to throw away an hour here or an hour there in ways I never would have done twenty years ago. Which is silly, because I have less time in this life now than I had twenty years ago! I shouldn’t be squandering another minute.

Or does growing older give you permission to squander some time but somehow feel at peace with it?

If so, I’m not quite there yet.

Time to get cracking.

Foreigner, Little River Band, Foghat, and other Great Cover Bands

My buddy Aaron is a big classic rock guy, and he and I have long discussed the idea of bands being brands that should theoretically go on forever. Steve Howe is the only guy left in Yes? So what! Keep playing, and in ten years, twenty years, and beyond, the Yes name can continue to put on good shows long after Howe is gone. After all, we can still hear Beethoven’s Fifth performed – why shouldn’t we continue to hear “Close to the Edge”?

I’ve never been as comfortable with this logic, and even Aaron is hitting his limit. He said to me this morning, “We cheer for people who have meant something to us along the way. When I see these bands, I don’t even know who I’m cheering for anymore.”

It’s a legitimate point. For example, Foreigner is on their farewell tour, and there are literally no foreigners left in Foreigner! Not a one. It’s a cover band. Now, there’s nothing wrong with being in a cover band – I’ve been in several over the years – and there’s nothing wrong with paying to see a cover band of music you enjoy, but there is something wrong with Foreigner advertising itself as Foreigner. They should call themselves “The Official Foreigner Tribute Band” or something similar – musicians who are performing under the Foreigner banner as sanctioned by Mick Jones, or whomever owns the band name.

When “Starship Featuring Mickey Thomas” is advertised, you know what you’re getting: you’re getting Mickey Thomas and a bunch of good musicians backing him up. You’re not expecting to see Grace Slick and Marty Balin.

By contrast, should Little River Band be advertising itself as Little River Band? If so, by what logic? There’s not one member in this band from their heyday. As my friend said, “Who am I cheering for?” Or Foghat – the only guy left is drummer Roger Earl, not exactly the guy people came to see when Foghat was selling out concert venues in the 70s. If they want to call themselves “Foghat Featuring Roger Earl” or something along those lines, that’s good by me.

If you’re willing to shell out $60 for a really good cover band, there’s no harm in that, but you should know that you’re shelling out cash for a cover band and not be duped into thinking that there’s anything authentic about the product. There will of course come the day when all of the original people associated with all of the bands from the 70s and 80s are long gone, by which point it will be obvious what we’re getting, but even then, I would like things to be labeled properly. Then again, the Count Basie Orchestra continues to play four decades after Count Basie’s death, and I don’t think anyone attending those shows feels shortchanged, so what do I know?

For me personally, it’s hard to get excited about listening to music that none of the performers on stage had anything to do with. But the alternative is to have the music die over time, and that’s not such an enviable ending. It’s a tricky balance. I do hope that in a hundred years someone can see “Close to the Edge” performed live; I just hope it’s not advertised as Yes.