The telltale signs were suddenly everywhere.
The American Association of Retired Persons (AARP) membership cards appeared, unsolicited, in the mail.? People have started giving up their seat to me whenever I ride BART, especially when I need a haircut.
And recently, I have found those never ending TV ads about drugs dealing with arthritis, Alzheimers and erectile dysfunction utterly fascinating.
There is no denying the calendar. Soon, I will be reaching the US retirement age of 65.
For much of my life, retirement was the furthest thing from my mind, given the way I lived it. In fact, many of my friends and family doubted that I would ever make it past 30, when I published my first book.
My life passed before my eyes during multiple mountain climbing accidents in the High Sierras, the Alps, and the Himalayas. Damn those used ropes!
The Vietnamese had their shot when I caught a landmine in Cambodia. Thanks to them, I still set off metal detectors (especially the one at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland).
The assorted tropical diseases I did catch there probably will take decades off my life. Doctors still find my X-rays puzzling.
I certainly thought I had bought the farm while crashing a variety of planes in Paris, Austria and Sicily.
Saddam Hussein had his go when his troops riddled my plane with bullet holes over Kuwait in 1991. It?s a good thing that I crash aircraft better than anyone I know. That?s important, because they don?t let you practice crashing during flight school.
But somehow the Purple Heart I earned doesn?t seem worth it when my heavy backpack reminds me that I?m missing a lower disc. Thank goodness for hot baths and Advil!
Then there was that time last winter at 12,000 feet in the High Sierras when I got caught in the dark, a ferocious blizzard with 80 mile per hour gusts and 10 degree temperatures.
My GPS froze, so I had to navigate my way back down the mountain with infrequent tree blazes and an old fashioned WWII army compass.
I over estimated the effectiveness of my new snow shoes and underestimated my ability to wade through four feet of fresh powder. In the end I was so exhausted that had to fall down the last slope to get to my car.
Then I discovered that my keys were also frozen and I couldn?t get in the car. After sitting on them for 15 minutes, the parking lights suddenly blinked and I barely made it out alive.
But I digress.
Given the approach of The Big Number, I thought it was time to call my accountant.
I love my accountant. For most of my working life he made sure I never paid a tax rate over 14.9%, taking advantage of the ?carried interest? treatment afforded fortunate and well-connected hedge fund managers.
It was only when I got into the newsletter business eight years ago that I had to pay the full ticket 39.5% rate the rest of the masses get stuck with. However, he keeps magically coming up with tax goodies for me.
I got $10,000 worth of tax gifts when I bought my all-electric Tesla Model S-1.
And this year?s tax return promises to deliver a double windfall from my new solar roof panel system. That includes a 30% alternative energy investment tax credit and full deductibility of the interest on the loan used to pay for it (which will be the subject of a future research piece).
And despite many government attempts to do so, he has successful kept me out of jail. Besides, locking me up in a Federal facility would be unkind to the other inmates, not to mention the poor guards.
My accountant has even promised to snow shoe with me in the High Sierras this winter. I'm still waiting.
But now I?m rambling.
So I asked my accountant how best to game the Social Security System once I am eligible. I have done much for the United States government, it would be nice if I got a little something back.
He asked me if I was married. I answered that I wasn?t, but that I could be. What?s it worth to me?
It was then that he told me about the Great Social Security Marriage Loophole.
It is this simple.
I actually qualified for retirement when I was 62. But if I had done so, I would have received discounted benefits. I will qualify for full retirement benefits at 66 1/2.
Since I have paid in my maximum Social Security taxes for my entire life, I will be eligible to receive $24,000 a year, or $2,000 a month. However, if I delay my retirement until 70 1/2, my benefits will increase by 32% to $31,680 a year.
Here comes the good part.
I can retire now, and then immediately ?file and suspend? my benefits. This is a simple one page form anyone can complete on the IRS.gov website.
That will allow me to suspend receiving my benefits, enabling them to continue to increase to the $31,680 maximum over the next five years.
Since I don?t need the money anyway, and $2,000 a month barely buys you a cup of coffee at Starbucks in the San Francisco Bay area, it was a no-brainer.
In the meantime, my ?wife? can apply for her own benefits and receive 50% of the value my benefits immediately, while my own suspended benefits continue to grow.
Not many people know about this benefit. In fact, The Great Social Security Marriage Loophole is one of the best-kept secrets of the entire Social Security system.
So, I asked my accountant how old my future ?wife? had to be to be before she could retire and claim the marriage benefit freebie. He said 62.
I said ?Sorry, that wouldn?t work for me.? For a spouse to keep up with me at 12,000 feet in a blinding snowstorm, she would have to be at least ten or twenty years younger than me.
By the time she retired, I would be 72 or 82, the suspense period long having since expired.
Anyway, I find the prospect of getting married again is somewhat daunting. And as you can well imagine, the pool of 42-52 year old women willing to subject themselves to flying lead, tropical diseases, plane crashes and permanent jet lag is somewhat limited.
You see, I?m not an easy person to be around.
Did he have any other ideas?
He did mention that I could apply for my Medicare benefits three months before I turn 65. If I applied for benefits more than six months after I turn 65, I could be subject to hefty penalties.
Go figure.
Yes, you might conclude that only a complete maniac could live a lifestyle like this and get away with it, and my mother would agree with you.
But how else could I make a piece about obscure Social Security rules interesting?
