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What it means to be a full-time PT by Paul Terhorst My wife Vicki and I are PTs, perpetual travelers. We wander the world, from Paris to Bangkok, from Las Vegas to Buenos Aires, enjoying what we find and then moving on. Sometimes we stay a month or two, sometimes a year or two. I like to think of us as homeless. Not the destitute homeless, but homeless in that we own no home, have no home base, and have no place to return to. Home, for us, is wherever we plug in our little computer. I used to stay in one place for years at a time, and work for a living. I was a CPA and eventually became an audit partner at Peat, Marwick, Mitchell, the big accounting firm now known as KPMG Peat Marwick. But in 1984, when I was 35 years old and working out of the Buenos Aires office, I hung up my pencil and retired. I wanted more time to myself, more time with Vicki. We wanted to travel, see old friends, make new friends, and play. During those early retirement years, we kept a small apartment in Buenos Aires. We returned every summer after six to nine months of travel. We kept our stuff there and used the apartment as our home address. In 1991, however, we decided to get rid of the apartment. For one thing, Argentina revalued the peso. Our apartment expenses quadrupled, and Buenos Aires came to cost more than San Francisco or Rome. But the main reason we wanted to get rid of the apartment and become PTs was because we were tired of returning to the same place every year. When you have a home base, you have to check in at home now and again. We didn't want to do that. We wanted to be free to stay or go, anytime, anywhere. Full-time PTs Are you a candidate for becoming a
PT? Whom do you trust? If you have, the PT life is probably not for you. You may be an exception, but in my experience those who work for the government tend to trust the government. They also tend to trust other institutions, such as insurance companies, Microsoft, the AMA, and public education. They like security and predictability, and they associate those things with government. PTs tend to trust people rather than institutions. If PTs need a hospital in Thailand, we get our innkeeper's recommendation rather than call the consulate. We steer clear of lawyers and courts, and we steer clear of situations that might lead us to need lawyers and courts. If we need travel and emergency assistance, we seek help from a fellow traveler rather than from American Express. We travel as tourists, if at all possible, rather than beg bureaucrats for residence permits. Don't get me wrong. PTs like security and predictability, too. It's just that security to us is a trusted friend, a helping hand, rather than a government program. Vicki and I trust people, and we like people
to trust us. For example, when renting an apartment, we make it a rule to
deal only with principals, not agencies, and never to leave large damage
or security deposits. We sit down with the owner, explain who we are and
how we live, and tell him why we want the apartment. The owner gets to
know us and, presumably, to trust us. We'll pay a deposit of a month's
rent or so, if we have to, but that's it. Paris rental agencies ask for
two or three months rent as a deposit or prepayment, and one even asked us
for five months. Forget it. These people don't trust me, and I don't trust
them. How attached are you to
stuff? PTs live with very, very little stuff. Vicki and I have three boxes in a friend's garage in Buenos Aires, three more in Las Vegas, and four more in Los Angeles. That's it. Except for tax returns and a few other records, we could get rid of even those few boxes if we had to. Can one be a PT and still keep a small
apartment or house trailer? We hear that question a lot. My answer is that
living as a PT is an attitude as much as a lifestyle. The point is not how
much stuff you have but to what extent your stuff controls your life. In
general, if you find yourself flying back home to take care of your stuff,
when you'd rather be doing something else, you probably have a long way to
go before becoming a PT. Do you use the Internet and
E-mail?
A few practical tips
Should you decide to become a PT, your second step should be to get yourself a residence address. You need a residence address even if you don't have a residence, for bank statements, tax returns, credit card bills, etc. Vicki and I use the address of a brother in Washington. Another alternative is to use Mail Boxes Etc. or a similar mail-forwarding service. The best mailing addresses are in states with no income taxes: Washington, Nevada, and Texas, for example. Because the United States taxes its citizens on worldwide income, whether they live in the States or not, American PTs pay U.S. income taxes. But you should avoid getting caught with a residence address in a state with a high state-income tax. Over the years, many wannabes have told me they'd like to be PTs but don't have a relative or friend whose address they can use as a mail drop. I was perplexed. “After all,” I figured, “everyone must know someone with an address.” I finally realized that these wannabes expected too much. They wanted their relatives or friends to open, read, and answer their mail, pay their utility bills, fight tax assessments, manage rental properties, fill out applications, and make investments. Too much. My brother simply tosses my mail in a box. On the rare occasion when I need something, I send him an E-mail. He digs out what I need and mails it to me. Simplify, simplify Vicki and I have four data files: names and addresses, boxes in storage (where they are and what's in them), important information (credit cards, passport numbers, birthdays, etc.), and bank and broker information. We keep these four files on our travel computer and print them out when we get to a printer. The printout is 12 pages, which we then copy on both sides of six pages for easy travel. Our lives in six pages! We leave backup copies of the four files on the Internet, on disks we carry with us, and on a friend's computer. Find your favorite places
We get our ideas about where to live from other PTs, from friends, and from research on the Internet. But we also know what we like and dislike. For example, although we've enjoyed living in small towns and villages, we prefer big cities that offer a lot to do. Use convenient check cards
I have two check cards, one for everyday use and a second for backup. I also have a credit card, with automatic payment that I monitor on the internet. That way, I don't have to worry if statements catch up to me, which they rarely do. I use the Internet to access all my accounts. Periodically, I check for unauthorized transactions, monitor my exchange rate, and get balance statements. Forget about traveler's checks. You pay to buy them, get a lousy exchange rate when you cash them, and have a hassle when you lose them. When in Paris Vicki and I go to conversation groups to practice French. Group members often talk about their lives--you have to talk about something--in French. When it's our turn, we explain the PT lifestyle. Invariably, the younger group members swoon. "How wonderful! What freedom! Just to leave the routine!" But older, more mature members tend to look at us thoughtfully. They too see the freedom from routine. But they ask themselves the tougher questions: “What about my books and mementos? Kids and aging parents? My dream home, and the finally affordable mortgage? Our cars?” I never argue with them; their points are well taken. The PT life calls out only to the few. |