Buy Low, Sell High
In which I finally return to the world of investing.
Today is the day: after a year of working on debt elimination (an ongoing process now focused on two remaining large debts), I actually get to have some fun with my money. I get to begin investing.
This may or may not be a good thing.
Several years ago, the MNF guys formed an investment club. We pooled a thousand dollars and voted on which stocks to purchase. Then, every month, we each pooled another $300 to buy something new. We dreamed big — we were going to be rich!
This worked well for a while; we had caught the very tail of the tech-stock boom. However, things quickly headed south. We threw good money after bad. We didn’t approach our investments from any sort of logical perspective: our choices were based on emotion rather than actual research. A couple of us were resentful after we’d spent hours researching particular stocks, only to have our suggestions passed over in favor of passionate arguments from people who had done no research at all. (I still make snotty comments about Autobytel (ABTL), which I wanted to purchase at $1.58/share.)
The group lost money, but we learned a lot. I don’t regret the experience.
Now I’m ready to give it a go on my own. I still lack market wisdom, but that will come with experience. Paul C. and Nick have been giving me advice, but ultimately I’m on my own. Until I get a feel for things, I’m simply going to “buy low, sell high”. (Paul is urging me to develop a set of parameters for both the purchase and the sale of stocks. I’m sure his advice is sound.)
What have I selected as my first investment? I’m going to pump money into a 2005 Roth IRA, trying to max it out by April. As a first step, this afternoon I’m putting $200 into General Motors (GM), which is trading near historic lows (and which also pays a quarterly dividend).
I hope I get a chance to sell high!
Wet New Year
In which we have a leak in the roof and a flood in the cellar.
Our New Year’s Day was a wet one.
As you’ll recall, when we moved into the house, we had Gale Contractor Services install some insulation. They messed up the job in four ways, three of which were apparent immediately: they drilled holes in the wainscoting despite explicit instructions not to do so; as one of the workers was crawling around the attic, he fell through the ceiling; and while working in the mud room, they knocked a bunch of stuff off the shelves. We were not happy with the experience.
Then last September, when the rains began, it became clear that Gale Contractor Services had made a fourth, more serious, error: the roof vent they installed was not properly sealed. We had a leak.
The company sent somebody out to fix the leak, and the repair lasted all winter. However, apparently the heat of the summer caused the plastic (!?!) roof vent to curl again, and gaps developed in the seams. With the recent heavy rains, we’ve had lots of brown wet spots developing on the ceiling.
Would I hire Gale Contractor Services to do work for us again? Hell no.
I took Thursday off from work to attempt a repair on the roof. I spent an hour at the hardware store, reading labels on cans and tubes and buckets of roofing sealants. I brought home a couple of options. After a bit of time on the roof, I think our leaks are repaired. I think they are. I’m not sure. I have no real way to tell. I drilled a couple of holes in the ceiling, and no water came through, but the sheetrock still feels damp. Time will tell, I suppose.
Meanwhile, we learned why the house came with a sump pump in the cellar.
The other day I noticed that the cellar’s concrete floor was beginning to look damp. There were radiating lines of wetness extending from certain points. Yesterday I went downstairs to fetch some clam juice (to make the Best Clam Chowder Ever for today’s Ham Feast) only to discover that the basement had begun to flood. There was a small pool of water at the bottom of the steps, and it was draining in a small but flowing stream to the sump pump hole. (You’ll notice that the sump pump hole is now covered with a milk crate. We don’t want Kris to step in the hole again, do we?)
Fortunately, the sump pump works well. We plugged it in and flipped a switch and the hole drained completely in seconds. We’ve made a point of going downstairs every few hours to drain the hole.
I have a couple of concerns, though: if the water table is this high already, how high will it get if the rains continue? (Last year was very dry, so we didn’t encounter the flooding issue.) Will we get an inch of water in the basement? Two? A foot? And what happens when we drain the water to the outside? Isn’t it just settling back to the water table, ultimately re-flooding the cellar?
Most of all: what about the smell? When we bought the house, the cellar had a faintly musty odor. The smell faded with time. Actually, I had credited the bathroom remodel with eliminating most of the odor. After just a couple of days of dampness, the cellar already smells musty. What will it be like in April?
Stay tuned, faithful reader. We’ll all find out together.
Tips For Writers
In which I post Billy Wilder’s tips for writers.
One of my New Year’s resolutions is to write more, not in the weblog, but actual fiction writing. Andrew, Josh, and I plan to meet from time-to-time to share and discuss our individual writing projects. I intend to take another writing class this term or next. I’m excited about writing fiction again.
Sparked by a comment in the recent New Yorker Philip Pullman article, I looked up Billy Wilder’s tips for writers. These are actually screenwriting tips, but they’re applicable to other forms of writing as well.
Billy Wilder’s Tips for Writers
- The audience is fickle.
- Grab ’em by the throat and never let ’em go.
- Develop a clean line of action for your leading character.
- Know where you’re going.
- The more subtle and elegant you are in hiding your plot points, the better you are as a writer.
- If you have a problem with the third act, the real problem is in the first act.
- Let the audience add up two plus two. They’ll love you forever.
- In doing voice-overs, be careful not to describe what the audience already sees. Add to what they’re seeing.
- The event that occurs at the second act curtain triggers the end of the movie.
- The third act must build, build, build in tempo and action until the last event, and then — thats it. Don’t hang around.
(Billy Wilder was a wonderful writer/director of the forties, fifties, and sixties. He wrote and directed one of my favorite films, the never-a-dull-moment Some Like it Hot, which the American Film Institute named as the top comedy of all time.)
The Finest Restaurant in All of Portland
In which I dream of owning a restaurant and running it with my friends.
I sometimes think that I’d like to start a restaurant. My life revolves around food. A lot of what I eat is crap, but I crave the good stuff. Here are a few food-related thoughts:
One Kris and Craig have been e-mailing each other, planning their tomato crops for next year. They’re also planning to take a knife class together. (With all this discussion about grow lights and knives, I’m sure the FBI is closing the noose around these two.)
Two The other night, Paul Carlile and I had a longish chat via instant messaging. (Paul is the only person with whom I ever use IM. Strange, huh?) During our conversation, I mentioned that if I ever opened a restaurant — which is this dream that I have in the back of my mind — then I’d love to have Paul working with me. He has a lot of experience working many aspects of restaurant life.
Three I keep saying that I need to have a Gourmet Potluck. I’d invite the Foodies that we know (meaning: Paul/AmyJo, Craig/Lisa, Jeremy/Jennifer), and ask that each person prepare one stellar dish that they love. It sounds like heaven.
Four Though I never mention it here, I spent six years working in various food service jobs. Much of the time I did grunt work. I loved it. Someday I’ll jot down first my memories of working fast food, and then my recollections of working in the coffee shop at Holiday Inn.
If I were to open a restaurant, it’d be fun to assemble a dream crew of co-workers from among my friends. My talents don’t really lie in the kitchen; in situations like this, I’m excellent at planning and organization. I’d be the behind-the-scenes manager type. Who would I like to join me?
I’d definitely want Jeremy as the “face” of the establishment, the person who interacted with customers, made wine recommendations, answered questions, talked about the food. Jeremy’s passionate and knowledgeable about food, and he could sell ice to an Eskimo.
I’d want Paul Carlile to be in charge of banquets and large groups. I’d have a trio of kitchen divas: Kris, Jenn, and Amy Jo. These three would be responsible for baked goods, and especially for menu planning. My head chef? My head chef would be Craig, who would quietly and skillfully chop and grind and cook, serving up strange but wonderful dishes.
Yessir, with a lineup like this, we could have the finest restaurant in all of Portland!
Bluefoot
Iin which Kris falls into a hole.
Warning: This entry contains graphic images that may not be safe for children. (Or for you.)
Our house has a cellar. The cellar does not have an earthen floor (as you might expect from the house’s age), but one of concrete. At the far end of the cellar there is hole in the ground. In the hole in the ground is a sump pump.
There isn’t much light in the cellar. There’s a small window above the sump pump, and the previous owners installed a light fixture without a switch. Meaning: to turn the light on, you screw in a 100-watt light bulb; to turn the light off, you unscrew it. If you forget to unscrew the bulb, the parlor floor gets warm and you can smell an odor like warm oak.
Last Spring I was down in the cellar, rooting around for something or other. I didn’t have the light on. I turned around and began to walk away when suddenly I plummeted thigh-deep into the sump-pump hole. I was stunned, more out of embarrassment than anything. I sat on the floor, twisted and tangled, for nearly a minute. I was angry. Finally I pulled myself from the hole and hobbled upstairs.
When the bathroom was being remodeled this summer, our contractor pulled me aside one afternoon. “Did you know there’s a hole in your basement?” he said. I nodded. “Well,” he continued, “I’ve put a milk crate over the top of it.” He didn’t say it, but it seemed clear that somebody had stepped in the hole. The milk crate was a great idea. After construction was finished, I left it there to protect against further accidents.
Apparently Kris, however, was unaware of the milk crate’s noble purpose.
On Christmas Eve she went downstairs to futz with wrapping paper and ribbons and suchlike. A few minutes later she came limping upstairs in pain. “I stepped in the hole,” she said.
“Didn’t you notice the milk crate?” I asked, perhaps not as sympathetic as a husband ought to be.
Fortunately, Kris isn’t severely injured. She is in pain, it’s true, and her foot has turned blue, but she’ll live. I think. Meanwhile, she’s completely fascinated by the various bruises on her feet and toes.
Two facts about Kris Gates: she bruises easily, and her feet are her worst feature. (Kris has many wonderful qualities; her feet are not one of them.) Her already hideous hoofs have mutated into something even more grotesque.
“Take some pictures!” she commanded last night. “You could put them on your weblog.” As repulsed as I was by her hideous feet, I obeyed. Aren’t you glad I did? Here is closeup of Kris’ toes.
sigh I was going to eat lunch after posting this entry, but now I am no longer hungry…
New Games
In which I play Shadows over Camelot and Ticket to Ride with Andrew and Dave.
I got together with Andrew and Dave last Thursday night to play some games. It was fun. I haven’t played games (aside from occasional Settlers of Catan) in ages. I miss it. (Note: though I’m not a huge fan of Settlers, I would love to have this 3-D deluxe set. I’ve seen it in a store. It’s gorgeous. Also, here are some rules for Armed Settlers of Catan!)
I picked up a couple of new games last week while I was out Christmas shopping. After doing some thorough research (paying special attention to Defective Yeti‘s good games guide), and after listening to the recommendations of the people at Rainy Day Games, I picked up Ticket to Ride and Shadows Over Camelot.
Ticket to Ride is ostensibly a railroad game. Some of you may be surprised to learn that in the games market there’s an entire sub-genre of train games. Bizarre but true. Ticket to Ride owes much to a previous game called Transamerica in which players take turns placing little wooden rail lines across a map of the United States. Transamerica, however, was so simplistic as to be tedious. (I still feel as if I must have missed some important rule someplace — the gameplay is mindless.)
Ticket to Ride maintains the “lay rail lines across a map of the United States” aspect of Transamerica and adds the “load cards” concept of the Empire Builder games. Players have “ride tickets”, each of which lists a route between two cities. If you complete this route during the course of the game, you receive bonus points. If you do not complete a ride ticket you receive negative points. (This is very important and adds an interesting wrinkle to things.) To complete the gameplay, players accumulate train cards of different colors. If the board shows that the rail line between Houston and New Orleans is two orange tracks long, for example, a player can complete this section of track by collecting and playing two orange train cards.
The three of us agreed that Ticket to Ride feels somewhat like Rummy in concept. It was fun, though it’s probably more fun with four or five players. (As few as two players can play, which makes this game unusual.)
We also played Shadows Over Camelot, which is a co-operative game with a twist. Co-operative games are part of a newish genre that hasn’t garnered many fans. Some people (including myself) like the idea of working together, but co-op games often just are not fun to play. There was a Lord of the Rings co-op game released a few years ago that received much acclaim. I own it and have played it several times with various groups. One or two groups have even beat the game (which is difficult). Despite the game’s good reviews, I’ve never enjoyed it. Much of the gameplay seems forced, as if the players have no choice in their actions. It’s not fun. When I mentioned my concern to the woman at Rainy Day Games, she was quick to assure me that Shadows Over Camelot wasn’t anything like that. “It’s co-operative,” she said, “but each player has a wide range of choices. Plus there’s always the possibility that somebody might be the traitor.”
The premise of Shadows Over Camelot is that each player is a Knight of the Round Table. Each knight has a special ability. During the game, the knights undertake various quests, attempting to acquire special relics and white swords which represent fame and valor. Failure to complete quests earns the group black swords. Earn more white swords than black and the crusade is successful; any other result is failure. The game would be fun if that was all there was to it (and when I played with Andrew and Dave, that was all there was to it), but there’s an added twist.
The game includes eight “loyalty cards”. Seven cards are labeled “loyal”, but the eighth is labeled “traitor”. Before play begins, each player draws a loyalty card at random. The greater the number of players, the more likely it is that somebody has drawn the traitor card. The traitor subtly works to sabotage the efforts of the rest of the knights. By the game’s midway point, knights may begin accusing each other of being the traitor. If a traitor is discovered, he stops being a knight and simply acts as an ever-present malignant force. Gameplay is cleverly designed to encourage suspicion of others: sometimes a knight must make an action the looks malicious but which is in actuality the best choice at a particular moment.
The game was fun with three players and no traitor card involved. We were salivating at the idea of how fun it must be with seven players and a likely traitor in the midst. (The only drawback to that many players would be the wait between each person’s turn. Turns go quickly, but waiting for six players to go is always going to seem tedious.)
(For more on Shadows Over Camelot, check out Defective Yeti’s review.)
I’d forgotten how much I enjoy playing a good game. At one time, we played board games with Mac and Pam several times a month. (Our other get-togethers were all about bridge, bridge, bridge.) For about a year, Kris and I even hosted a monthly game night. Lately, though, gaming has been a rare thing in our lives. I miss it. I’m toying with the idea of hosting an irregular game night. “I’d probably have to lift the ‘no kids’ rule,” I mentioned on Thursday. (Our rules before were: no kids, no alcohol, bring your own food.) “No way,” said Andrew. “People can find babysitters if they want to play games.”
So, there you have it: you game-playing folk in the Portland area, I may re-institute an irregular game night some time in the near future.
On Friday night, I attended my second poker night at Sabino’s. Last month, I finished fourth out of twelve, just one person out of the money. This month I finished fifth out of fourteen, just one person out of the money. sigh Last month, there were several times when I played like I oughtn’t: bluffing, etc. This month, I did well until we got down to just six players. Then the cards just weren’t coming and the blinds bled me dry. I paid to see a few flops (with AQo, for example, or 89s), but nothing ever panned out. I’ll be that happens quite a bit. My tally now in three poker games: I’ve spent $65 to buy-in, and have won $49, so I am $16 in the hole. I’ve placed 4/12, t1/6, 5/14. Okay for a raw beginner, I think. (Caution: I’ve made “poker” and “holdem” prohibited words in the comments.)
Christmas MP3s From Santa
In which Santa Claus shares some of his favorite Christmas mp3s. Santa is so hip.
Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!
Have you been good boys and girls this year? Well then Santa will share a little present: some of his favorite holiday songs. All my little elves have gathered these together and given them proper mp3 tags so that they’ll import nice ‘n’ pretty into iTunes.
These songs are from all different styles from all different eras, but each is one of Santa’s favorites.
- Glad – Break Forth, O Beauteous Heavenly Light (1:16)
- Dar Williams – The Christians and the Pagans (3:03) a song Jenn introduced to us
- Ann Margaret & Al Hirt – Baby, It’s Cold Outside (3:30) a wonderful version of a fun song
- Loreena McKennitt – Coventry Carol (2:19)
- Chanticleer – Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming (2:17) for Nick
- Tommy Dorsey – March of the Toys (3:18) I love this song! (But then I’m a Big Band nut…)
- Tracy Chapman – O Holy Night (4:30)
- Vonda Shepard with Calista Flockhart on vocals – Santa Baby (2:10) the sexiest Christmas song ever (hint: ‘chimney’ is a metaphor here)
- Jay Wilbur – Santa Claus Express (3:04)
- Soul Coughing – Suzy Snowflake (1:59) Mac and Pam and Kris (and probably you) hate this version, but I love it!
- Caedmon’s Call – What Child is This (2:17) a modern version of what will be always and forever my favorite Christmas carol
- Sarah McLachlan – Song For a Winter’s Night (3:17) peaceful and beautiful
- Everything But the Girl – 25th December (4:03)
- Mariah Carey – All I Want For Christmas (4:01) as requested by Kris
Ho ho ho! Enjoy!
Santa realizes he should have posted these a week or two ago so that you could all listen to them while baking cookies and wrapping presents and trimming the tree. He hopes you enjoy them nonetheless. Now, if you please, Santa must go watch Love Actually (his favorite holiday film) before loading up his sleigh.
(Perhaps next year Santa will repost these. Sometime Santa will post the CD image for the Christmas mix he made five years ago: it’s a fantastic mix that never gets old. Santa even listens to it during the summer sometimes. Several of the songs here are on that mix.)
Two Types of Christmas
In which I elaborate on the differences between Roths and Gates at Christmas.
A couple of weeks ago I delineated the differences between Roths and Gates when it comes to Christmas shopping. (Summary: Gates finished shopping sometime around Thanksgiving; Roths still aren’t done.) Today I’d like to observe a few other differences between these two types that become apparent at Christmas.
Stocking Stuffers
Gates: Many little stocking stuffers, few of which actually fit in the stocking. When together, take turns opening. When apart, open one a day until Christmas. Still do stocking stuffers.
Roths: only a few stocking stuffers, all of which fit in the stocking. One is always an orange. One is always cash. None are wrapped. Stocking is simply turned over and dumped on the floor on Christmas morning. No longer do stockings.
Opening Gifts
Gates: All gifts are passed out. Everyone sits calmly and takes turns opening gifts. Kris opens a gift: everyone oohs and aahs. J.D. opens a gift: everyone oohs and aahs. Tiffany opens a gift: everyone oohs and aahs. The process can take days, weeks even.
Roths: Gifts are passed out. While they are being passed out, everyone opens everything at once in a flurry of paper and bows. There are a lot of hurried thanks. The whole process takes ten minutes.
Food
Gates: Traditional Christmas fare: ham, sticky buns, etc. Not enough food for the entire group.
Roths: Home-made pizza! (Or, if we’re really lucky, fondue!) Cookies! Cake! Lots of it. Yum.
Celebration
Gates: Christmas day.
Roths: Christmas eve. Christmas day is for going to the movie theater!
TWO WEEKS of daily posts? Bwahahahahah! And here I thought I was ready for a hiatus. I’ve already written posts for the next two days, too, and have several more nearly finished. Lisa’s logorrhea is contagious.
Words My Father Taught Me
In which I remember some of my father’s favorite phrases.
“Think it’ll rain?”
That’s what my father always said on days like today, days on which the rain fell long and hard, days on which the fields and ditches flooded, spilling into the road so that small streams formed on hills, days on which even an Oregonian craved an umbrella.
“Think it’ll rain?” was one of Dad’s mantras. It’s from him that I gained much of my sense of humor (which isn’t necessarily a good thing): the dumb observations and, especially, the use of repetition. (I often think to myself that repetition is the cornerstone to humor. Kris disagrees. You can imagine how she suffers.)
Another of Dad’s chestnuts was “should we make like a tree and leaf?” whenever it was time to go home. I’ve heard countless variations of this from other people, but that was Dad’s particular favorite.
Some of the things he said all the time weren’t particularly nice. When a family member did something dumb, he’d say, “If you had a brain, you’d take it out and play with it.” Sometimes to Mom he’d say, “Dumb woman — that’s like saying woman twice.”
I’d repeat this stuff to my friends, and sometimes to my friends’ parents. I can remember one instance during high school in which I used the “dumb woman” bit when a friend’s mother did something silly. (And this was a smart woman, a woman I respected.) It didn’t even occur to me that I was being misogynist. This stuff was bred into me, just as was a low-level racism and a low-level hatred of gays. (I’m happy to report that I seem to have shed most of the vestiges of these prejudiced ways.)
Dad was a good guy, and funny, and I have a great fondness for those little phrases he used to say all the time, but he was also something of a jerk.
Be Careful What You Wish For
In which I complain about the weather.
For ten days I lamented the cold. For ten days I bundled up and shivered. For ten days I scraped ice from my window in the morning. I longed for a hot bath. I couldn’t get warm enough. The dry air gave me a bloody nose. I moaned. I complained.
Now the cold air is merely cool, and is supposed to grow warmer by the weekend. But the clear skies have gone, too, and the endless rains have set in. After only two days, already the fields are flooding into little lakes.
It’s gray and damp, but now I want it to be cold and clear.
Am I ever satisfied?
Ah, if only it were autumn again, with the cool clear mornings and the warm, lazy afternoons.