Uncle Jamey

The rational banker, the husband, the father

Uncle Jamey, Jada, and baby Avery

I knew Uncle Jamey would be one of the last uncle posts I did for a few reasons. For one, his six children are all significantly younger than me, so I didn’t grow up going to their house to play with cousins and never got to know him all that well. Also, some of those cousins are still in elementary school and, along with Uncle Jamey’s time-consuming job as Chief Lending Officer of a regional bank, he is coaching hockey teams—like other uncles, has the litany of engagements that come with children pre-college, a house to maintain, and a happy marriage with my Aunt Liddy to keep in high order. So I knew his free time to hang out with a hippy-dippy nephew would be limited.

Also, in many ways, we’re polar opposites, so I was a bit hesitant to hit him up. He’s a successful finance guy, logical, confident, and incredibly intelligent while I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants nomad who's been earning an ESL teacher salary for the last decade. Of course, one’s income does not define them as a human, but it can be slightly intimidating because he’d be perplexed—at best—and very concerned—at worst—if he got an inside look at the financial decisions I’ve made these last ten-plus years. 

I was a bit nervous I’d feel some friction, judgment, or condescension. 

But then we got some time together. And holy crap, I like him a lot. 

I got to see him as a father. And it’s beautiful. I had tea with my Aunt Liddy and got a different perspective from the tie-wearing banker image I’d been stuck on. Although my view on his hyper-logical and rational personality was reinforced in moments like when we heard the radio play a mega-millions ad and, thinking it’d be an interesting question for a finance guy, I asked what types of investments he’d make and things he’d buy if he won a few hundred million… and he wouldn’t even entertain the thought, saying he was never going to win that money, so why think about how to spend it. 

He’s a realist; I’m a dreamer. 

He’s a spreadsheet guy; I journal and make a mean vegan nacho cheese from cashews. 

He’s been methodically and strategically making moves towards retirement for decades; I plan out my life like an abstract painter throwing color on a canvas, aiming at something-ish but not too precise on how it’s going to splash out in the end. 

But in our quality hours together, I got to pick his brain on a variety of topics and found we agree on quite a bit, are not as different as I might have thought, and we can chat effortlessly for hours. 

In short, Uncle Jamey has gone from slightly intimidating to one of my favorite surprises on this 18 Uncles journey.