Money Crashers: How to Save Money With Your High-Speed Internet Service Provider

Regular readers of this blog will know that over the years, Brian and I have had a fair amount of trouble with our Internet service.

There are two and only two broadband providers available in our area: Optimum (formerly Cablevision) and Verizon. At our old apartment, we had Verizon DSL, so when we bought this house, we initially tried to set up the same service here. For nearly a month, Verizon gave us the runaround, telling me every time I called that our service would be activated "in a day or two." In the meantime, I had to limp along with an antiquated dial-up connection, supplemented by piggybacking on our neighbors' connections when I could. Then, at the end of the month, Verizon sent a message to say, "Sorry, we don't have DSL" in your area and summarily cut off even the dial-up access I'd had up to that point. So I had to hastily set up an account with Optimum, which we've had ever since. In 2013, we transferred our phone service to them as well after our Verizon landline became unreliable (and the company, after putting us off for a week, failed to show up for its appointment to do the repair, without even attempting to notify us).

However, in the ten years we've been with Optimum, I've often had my doubts about whether we're really getting our money's worth. I was already questioning our decision in 2014, just one year after we'd switched, when our introductory rate ran out and I realized that we could save over $500 a year by switching both phone and Internet back to Verizon. I questioned it still more in 2015, when Optimum raised our rates yet again right around the same time Verizon showed up at our door to announce that its Fios service (faster and more reliable than our cable connection) was now available in our area. I was actually on the point of switching earlier this year, but changed my mind after reading about how Verizon was one of the ISPs behind a big push to end net neutrality protections—and Optimum was one of the few ISPs that wasn't. (The company has since implied that it will continue to refrain from blocking, throttling, and paid prioritization of content, but it's made no explicit promises.)

But just recently, Optimum raised our rates yet again, from $105 to $115 a month. Verizon, meanwhile, is willing and even eager to offer us a gigabit connection, plus TV and phone service, all for $87 a month. Or, we could get the cheaper 100Mbps connection - still much faster than what we have right now - plus voice service for $70 a month (if we purchase the router instead of renting it). And given that Verizon actually gets higher marks for customer service than Optimum, and given that Optimum hasn't really promised to maintain open Internet protections on its service, is it worth an extra $540 a year?

I haven't decided yet what's best for us, and I know from past experience that trying to negotiate with Optimum is unlikely to get me a better deal. But what hasn't worked for me could still work for you.

So in my latest Money Crashers article, I offer some advice on how to get a lower rate on Internet service. I discuss such strategies as looking for subsidies (which only works if your income is below a certain level), comparison shopping, negotiating with your provider, cutting your Internet speed, and dropping unnecessary extras.

How to Save Money With Your High-Speed Internet Service Provider

I even learned, while researching this article, about one other option that I might try: hiring a company that will negotiate with your ISP for you. If they succeed in getting you a lower rate, they take half your savings for the first year as their payment; if they don't, it costs you nothing. Given that I wasn't able to get anything out of Optimum when I tried negotiating by myself, it seems I have nothing to lost by letting one of these companies give it a try. If they succeed where I failed, I'll save money, and if not, I won't have wasted either time or money in the attempt.

Recipe of the Month: Eggs with Squash Blossoms

My Recipe of the Month for June is a little unusual. Normally, I feature two types of dishes: recipes that I found somewhere and Brian prepared, and recipes that Brian made up all by himself. But this month's recipe was my own work from start to finish. I came up with the idea, found the recipe, harvested the ingredients, prepared it, and cooked it. Though not exactly in that order.

See, Brian is off to Chicago this weekend for a seminar, leaving me on my own for dinner. I had no particularly good ideas, so early this evening, I found myself wandering through the garden, looking for some veggies I could cook. However, aside from lettuce—which I deemed not enough to make a meal of—the pickings were kind of slim. The arugula, as predicted, had bolted; the snap peas were recently picked clean; the peppers weren't ripe yet; and the few squash on the zucchini plants were too small to do much with. However, I did notice that there were several large, yellow blossoms on the plants that looked ripe for the picking; in fact, two had already fallen off, and another came off in my hand when I went to examine it. I remembered reading before that squash blossoms are edible—indeed, they're considered a bit of a delicacy—so I figured maybe I could do something with those and get a Recipe of the Month out of it at the same time.

So I carefully gathered up the blossoms, carried them inside, and went hunting for some ideas for what to do with them. How to Cook Everything, failing to live up to its name, had nothing to say on the subject, so I turned to the Internet. The first few ideas I came across there—fried squash blossoms, squash blossom pesto, pasta with zucchini blossom sauce—all called for a much larger volume of squash blossoms than the three I had, and looked far too complicated for a simple meal for one. But eventually I tracked down a page that suggested serving them in an omelet or, simpler still, in a dish of scrambled eggs with some fresh herbs. I was pretty sure I could handle that.

So I headed back outside and started gathering a few more ingredients. Following the suggestion of this recipe, I picked a couple of sprigs of fresh parsley and some sage leaves to stir into the eggs. I also gathered some lettuce for a side salad.

Then I started cooking. Since I had little to no idea what I was doing, this was more or less in full freestyle mode. I prepared the salad first (using a variation of my Rosy Summer Salad recipe) so I'd have everything ready when the eggs were done and could eat them while they were hot. Then I chopped up the herbs, tore the squash blossoms in half, minced a good-sized clove of garlic, and heated some oil in the big cast-iron pan. I sautéed the garlic in that for just a minute or so, then threw in the squash blossoms and let them cook until they were wilted. Then in went the eggs, with the herbs sprinkled on top, and I just stirred everything together and let it cook until it looked reasonably solid. I threw it on a plate with some leftover oven-browned potatoes, set the salad on the side, and called it dinner.

The finished product wasn't exactly pretty to look at, but it was perfectly edible. To be honest, I can't  say that the flavor of the squash blossoms seemed to add that much to it; perhaps it was overwhelmed by the stronger flavors of the herbs and garlic. But the combination of eggs, herbs, and garlic tasted just fine, and there was a certain relish in the idea that I was cooking with fancy ingredients even if they didn't taste like much. And as always, it was satisfying to know that all the produce (barring the potatoes) had all come out of our own little garden.

So would I make this dish again? Well, maybe if I were on my own for dinner under similar circumstances, I might. But if what I really wanted to do was make something that featured squash blossoms, I think I'd look for a different recipe that could highlight their delicate flavor a little better than this one. Still, given that I'm so used to having Brian do all the cooking, just being able to prepare a decent meal on my own was enough to give me a sense of accomplishment.

Gardener's Holidays 2018: Cornucopia

Well, it's officially summertime (not that the summer weather waited for the calendar), and our garden is looking a lot better than it was last year. Our sugar snap peas have been producing—not by the bucketload, but enough to provide handfuls of peas for stir-fries and salads—and we're harvesting so much lettuce that I'm actually getting a little tired of salad. There's still a bit of arugula left, as well (though it's likely to bolt pretty soon), and we're already seeing the first little squashlings on the zucchini plants. (Brian has been diligently covering their stems with dirt to deter the squash vine borers, and so far they look healthy.)

But the real star of our summer garden show is our raspberry canes. For reasons that aren't entirely clear to me, we have been getting a real bumper crop of berries this summer—so many that we actually haven't been able to eat them all. Last weekend, we went away to Boston for a Morris dance event, and we made a point of picking all the ripe raspberries we could find on Friday—about a pint's worth—and taking them with us as a gift for our host, because we knew they wouldn't last until we returned. So the bushes were picked clean right before our departure, and yet the day after we returned, Brian went out and gathered all these.

That's a two-quart bowl, so I estimate it contains at least five cups of berries—and that's what we picked after an absence of only two days. We happened to be at Trader Joe's last week, and we noticed that they were selling a tiny one-cup container of organic raspberries there for $4—so this bowl alone contains about $20 worth of fruit. And since then, the canes have only continued to produce at the same rate. We're filling up a pint container of berries pretty much every day.

Well, with a crop like this, we had to make some adjustments to our berry-eating habits. In the past, we've been fairly sparing with them—tossing a handful at a time into a salad, occasionally enjoying a half-cup or so fresh with lunch, and maybe saving some up to make into a dessert now and then. But this week, we've been doing all those things at once, plus filling up a quart container to take to my dad for a belated Father's Day gift, and still we can't keep up.

So, for the first time in our gardening lives, we have actually preserved a portion of our fruit harvest. Brian has now put two batches of berries, totaling about a quart and a half, into the freezer, simply spreading them out in a single layer on a cookie sheet. They freeze up quickly and maintain their shape, and he then transfers them to a large plastic bag for future use.

This, of course, means that we'll have to start digging up some recipes that actually call for frozen raspberries, which we've never had before, but that's hardly a tragedy. I've already found this one for Raspberry, Oat and Almond Bake in the Guardian, and we can always put them in smoothies.

Meanwhile, there are still more fresh raspberries out there to be harvested. If this keeps up, maybe we should just forget about buying fruit at all until fall.

Money Crashers: Men, Women & Money

In our household, I've always been the one to handle money matters. When we go shopping together, I whip out my card and pay the bill while Brian bags up the purchases. I always pay the monthly bills; even when Brian uses his own credit card that he had before we were married, he passes the bill on to me. And naturally, I'm the one to manage our budget sheet and handle all our investments.

The reason for this is simple: Brian just doesn't like dealing with money. He's happy to do all the cooking and scoop the litter box if it means he never has to worry about paying a bill. And I'm happy to handle all the financial matters if I don't have to cook, so that works out well.

Yet apparently, few men feel this way. Studies usually show that men are more interested in managing their money than women, and they're also more confident about their financial skills. Yet that confidence is often misplaced; men tend to invest more aggressively than women and, as a result, suffer bigger losses in the market. So overall, the less confident women actually earn marginally better returns than the men.

This is just one of the many ways men and women differ in their approach to money. In my latest Money Crashers article, I explore the differences between men and women on money matters of all kinds: spending, saving, investing, borrowing, and attitudes toward money. This article doesn't provide a once-and-for-all answer to the question of which sex handles money better—but it does show what they have to learn from each other.

Men, Women & Money – How the Sexes Differ With Their Finances

Crisis = opportunity

I had a new experience this past week, though not one I could honestly recommend to anyone: I was the victim of a "strong-arm robbery." Or, as most of us would call it, a purse snatching.

I wasn't seriously injured (just a scrape on the hand), but I've had to spend much of the past week dealing with the effects of the robbery. I spent most of that first afternoon filing a police report and part of one other afternoon working with a sketch artist, and I devoted most of the following evening and day to bookkeeping matters. I went online that evening to cancel all my credit and debit cards and print out new copies of my insurance cards, and then Brian and I went out to pick up a new set of doorknobs, which he spent that evening installing, so the thieves couldn't get into our house. (The key was in my purse, and they could find the address on my driver's license.) We spent the next morning running around to the bank to replace my debit card and cancel the six checks I had left in my checkbook, to the car dealer to have our car keys changed, and to another bank branch to switch out the locks on our safe deposit box. And the day after that, we had to stop by my mom's house to get my birth certificate, which I'll need for ID to replace my driver's license now that I no longer have the license. Oh, and I also went to the library to get a new library card, because priorities.

After a few days of hard work, we've now dealt with all the official business except for my driver's license and registration (a trip to the DMV is on the agenda for tomorrow). Now comes the trickier part: replacing all my stuff. I'm the kind of gal who likes to be prepared for anything, so I habitually carry a lot of things in my purse besides the usual wallet, keys, and phone. I had a mini umbrella, a pair of sunglasses, a notebook and pen, a pillbox, a sewing kit, a first-aid kit, a book of matches, my grocery price book, a reusable shopping bag, a few crossword puzzles, a local map, a little makeup, a deck of cards, an energy bar, a travel toothbrush, a handkerchief, loyalty cards from half a dozen different stores, and wee containers of sunscreen, lotion, and hand sanitizer. Plus maybe a few other things I'm forgetting about. All that stuff, including the purse itself, has to be replaced.

But as John F. Kennedy once said (incorrectly, but that's beside the point), the Chinese word for crisis is a combination of "danger" and "opportunity." So I'm determined to turn this crisis into an opportunity for me: the chance to perfect my everyday carry, or EDC.

You see, as I was going through the list of all the stuff in my wallet, trying to remember what all I needed to replace, I noticed that there was a lot of junk in there that, really, I probably didn't need to be carrying on an everyday basis. (Side note: yes, of course I keep a list of all the stuff in my wallet for just such an occasion as this. I told you I was anal.) I'd need to replace the license, of course, and my credit cards and ATM card, and my health insurance cards. But did I really, for example, need my blood donor and organ donor cards? The blood bank already has all my info on record, and my new driver's license will list my organ donor status. And there were some store and restaurant loyalty cards for places we almost never go to, including one that has actually gone out of business entirely. And a card for a credit union that I never use, because the only branch is in New York, and it would cost me more to go into the city to close the account than the account actually contains. And a couple of shopping guides that I can easily access online once I finally get myself a smartphone, which I was planning to do this year anyway.

All that stuff doesn't need to be replaced, and the same, I realized, probably goes for much of the other stuff I was carrying around. So I've decided that, first of all, I'm only going to replace the stuff I truly need; and second, everything I do replace is going to be at least as good as the original, if not better. I'm not going to make do with a "good enough" purse or wallet or key ring because I've lost the one I liked; I'm going to take this opportunity to upgrade every single thing I carried in that purse that was less than ideal. So when all the dust from this robbery has finally settled, I'm actually going to be better off than I was before it happened.

I've already made a start. I've pared my new key ring down to the essentials: our new house and car keys, a mini flashlight, and a mini Leatherman tool to replace my little Swiss Army knife. Since I'd already found a pen that seemed pretty much ideal for me, I simply went back to JetPens and ordered a couple more of those (one for the new purse and one for a spare). I bought a new notebook, made from certified sustainable paper, at the local art supply store. (It was a bit pricey, but I just counted it toward my local shopping budget.) I ordered a wallet on eBay that's big enough to carry everything I need on a daily basis—cards, cash, and change—and can also hold my checkbook when I need it to, though I probably won't carry it around routinely anymore. (It came in handy once in a while, but usually, if I need to write a check, I know about it ahead of time.) And I found a purse on Poshmark that's similar to my old one, but with a single long strap so it can be worn across the body—a style that my doctor has told me is better for my back, and also has the advantage of being harder to snatch.

It'll take a while for all my new stuff to arrive, but within the next week or so, I should have an EDC that's better, leaner, more organized than what I had before this pesky robbery. Mind you, I still wouldn't say I'm glad it happened—but if I end up with a more functional EDC as a result, at least there's a silver lining.

Actual savings: The public library

A while ago, I read an article online—I forget exactly where—about the many benefits of visiting your local public library and all the things it has to offer besides books. (It wasn't this Money Crashers article, but it was along the same lines.) I was entirely in agreement with this, since next to our Twitch subscription (through which we watch our beloved Critical Role), our local library is our primary source of entertainment. We check out books, borrow movies and TV shows on DVD, and attend the occasional free event there. It's probably the nearest thing either of us has to a "third place."

But some readers, it turns out, don't share this view. In the comments at the bottom of the article, one sourpuss groused that the library isn't really "free" entertainment; you have to pay for it with your tax dollars, whether you want to use it or not. Apparently, he did not consider this a good value.

Now, it seems to me that if you have to support your public library whether you use it or not, it makes sense to use it as much as possible and get your money's worth. But perhaps this fellow's beef was that he doesn't think the services the library provides will ever be worth what he spends on it in taxes. Is he right? Just how much does a public library really cost, and how much value does it provide?

For our local library, the first question is easy to answer. A copy of Highland Park's municipal budget, available on the town's website, reveals that 0.97% of our property taxes go to support the library. The budget says this works out to $114 per year for the average resident, but our house must be a little smaller than average; we paid about $7,110 in property taxes over the last fiscal year, which means we only spent about $70 to fund the library.

Here's what we get for that:

• Borrowed books. First, and most obviously, we take out books—actual printed books—from the library. My account on the library's website doesn't include a record of what I've borrowed recently, so I'm just going to assume conservatively that Brian and I take out an average of one book per month. If we bought these same books new, in paperback form, they'd probably cost an average of $12 each. So, for borrowed books alone, that's a $144 value.
• Discounted books. In addition to borrowing books, we regularly buy them at the library's annual sale, at which donated books are sold at rock-bottom prices to raise money. Here's our haul from this year's sale: six small paperbacks (which would cost about $10 apiece retail), four larger ones (about $14 retail), and four hardcovers (maybe $20 retail). So this whole stack would have cost us $196 at a bookstore, and we paid only $22 for it—a savings of $174.
• E-books. In addition to physical books, we regularly use our library card to take out e-books from the eLibrary. Here, again, I don't know the exact number we've borrowed between us in the past year, but I'll guess it was at least half a dozen. Kindle books typically cost between from $3 and $10, so figure an average of $6.50. On top of that, our library temporarily gave us a subscription this year to Hoopla Digital, with an allotment of four borrows per month. We didn't get too much use out of it before the library canceled the program, but Brian took out eight graphic novels that would probably have cost him $12 each to buy in a store. So that's another $135 worth of reads.
• DVDs. Our town no longer boasts a video rental place, but we've hardly missed it thanks to the large and eclectic collection at the library. Matter of fact, its selections are probably of more interest to us than what we could have found at Blockbuster back when it was still operating in our area. It has everything from superhero movies to indie and foreign films, plus complete runs of all sorts of interesting TV series—some current, some canceled, and some BBC productions you can't easily get in the USA. We take out at least a couple of selections a month, usually TV series, thereby eliminating the need for a Netflix or Hulu subscription that would cost us $8 a month. So there's another $96 a year saved.
• Live events. Lastly, we attend live events at the library from time to time, such as film screenings and poetry readings. For the most part, these aren't events we'd pay to attend if they weren't available for free, but they make a nice change of pace from staying in and watching TV or playing board games. Most recently, I took an afternoon class that taught how to use a sewing machine, complete with the materials needed to construct a small zippered pouch. Mine didn't quite come out beautifully (I forgot to put the foot down at one point after re-threading), but it's still sturdy enough to hold pens or dice. I checked online to see what a comparable class would cost, and I found a two-hour session at a place in Brooklyn called Make Workshop for $80. So that's another $80 to add to the year's tally.

All told, in the past year our library card has saved us approximately $629 for a mere $70 in taxes. That's such a good deal that we actually feel a bit guilty about it, so we voluntarily pony up an extra $100 each year as a donation and consider it money well spent. If it enables the library to continue providing the kind of value we get from it now, it's an excellent investment.

In fact, if you look at it in terms of cost per hour of entertainment, the library is just about the best deal around. Since I not only read books but also read them aloud to Brian, a single novel can provide anywhere from 2 to 20 hours of entertainment; if you figure 6 hours on average, the 40 books we got from the library this year (borrowed, bought, and downloaded) provided us with about 240 hours' worth. Our DVD borrows, since they're mostly TV series with multiple episodes, add at least another 150 hours or so, and the events we attend add maybe 10 more hours per year. So that's a good 400 hours of entertainment, and even with our additional donation, it costs us only $170—less than 43 cents per hour. That's cheaper than a Redbox rental ($1 for 2 hours), cheaper than a Netflix subscription ($8 a month for about 10 hours), cheaper than most secondhand books (about $4 for maybe 6 hours)—cheaper, in fact, than almost anything you can do for fun.

Now, I realize our public library is probably better than most, especially for a town this small. But then, others that are cheaper probably cost even less in taxes, so the locals are getting what they pay for. In short, I'd say anyone who thinks a public library isn't a worthwhile investment either hasn't done the math or just doesn't know how to have fun.