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 Post subject: The Old GunFighter
PostPosted: Sat Jun 04, 2011 12:47 am 
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Joined: Fri Jun 03, 2011 11:55 pm
Posts: 2
So there you are at home after a very long day and you are dead tired. The game you are watching is going into overtime, but you are not. It's past your bedtime and hitting the hay is all that matters now.

As you near that big warm bed you fail to notice the carelessly discarded piece of clothing laying next to the bed. Your feet get tangled and you fall face first into your big fluffy pillow. Since you are too tired to move, you fall asleep that way.

But internally, your tired body knows that something is wrong. Not enough air! But how does your body get the message through on time?

Your brain senses the unhappiness being felt by your body and seamlessly kicks into action. A message is sent in the form of a vivid dream. You suddenly 'realize' a sense of danger.

There you are, transported back in time to the days of The Old West, Dodge City. There you are on Main Street, just before high noon, and you are face to face with the Old Gunfighter.

In an instant, the clock strikes 12 and you reach for your gun, which is just out of its holster and pointed at the ground in front of you as you hear a shot ring out from the other end of the street.

You bolt up to an upright position in a sweat, feeling about your chest for the entry wound and the blood that must be pouring from it. You realize an incredible sense of relief knowing now that it was just a dream.

But you are face up and gasping for air just as your body wanted you to do. And those automated neurological signal senders are high-fiving each other for a job well done.

Now you lay there with a renewed appreciation for life itself, face up and trying to get back to sleep. Laying there you begin to try to analyze the dream. 'Gee whizzikers' you think, that gunfighter was old.

How did he beat you to the draw like that? You are still young, strong and fast at the draw. More so than most you think. What could you have done differently?

The whole idea of losing like that to an old timer gnaws at the above-average you and it keeps you awake until morning, when mindlessly, you get out of bed and trip on that same piece of clothing that started the whole thing the night before.

Later that morning at the doctors office, he's looking for permanent damage around that knot on your head gained from the fall you took earlier that morning, you tell the doctor about your dream.

Lucky for you, the doctor took a psych class during pre-med and thinks he can tell you what the dream meant. He says that you likely have a tendency to act before thinking. He explains it in the context of the dream.

Instead of trying to outdraw the old gunfighter, trying to beat him at his own game and all, you should have first taken what little time you had to consider a very important question.

How did that guy get to be an OLD gunfighter? It should have taken less than a minute's thought to realize that he has survived in a very dangerous vocation for a reason.

'The best option you had' explains the doctor 'was to use some discretion and see what should have been so obvious. When you find yourself face to face on Main Street at high noon against The Old Gunfighter, just turn around and walk away clean Jack, no one gets hurt'.

Maybe the doc was right about your dream, maybe not. You still think you should have out-drawn the old man and you think about getting a gun to practice with, just in case it goes down on the street for real some day.

Getting back to the real world you now focus on a task that needs to be seen to, what to do with fresh cash in your brokerage account. You turn on the business channels to see which stocks are being highlighted and you scan through a list of new brokerage upgrades on your computer.

You build some charts around some possible candidates and decide upon the best 2 or 3 to add to your portfolio. Sometime this week you will punch in your buy orders, unconcerned that on the other side of your transactions are people who likely know more about your new stock than you do.

Current owners tend to be better informed than new owners are. But you are sure of your methods and screening process and feel better knowing that the professional-of-the-day on t.v. agrees with you.

At the end of another long day you head for bed, this time mindful of the benefits of a clean floor. You fall asleep quickly hoping to make up for the sleep lost the night before.

Lucky for you, those automated neurological protectors of yours are on a sugar high from their success of the previous night. You drift off to sleep and quickly re-enter the dream state.

This time, it is the present day and you are not in Dodge City. You are at the stock exchange, getting ready to place your buy orders in person at the trading post where each is offered. There are no old gunfighters, only old investors.

Over in a quiet, far corner of the exchange they sit, the old investors. And you recognize them. The best are there, Buffett, Templeton, Soros, Jim Rogers and some you don't recognize since they don't have anything to sell you and don't get on t.v.

You take a lesson from your doctor and decide to think before rushing to buy stocks. Someone tells you that you can't talk to the old investors but you can try to get close enough to hear what they're saying. Maybe pick up a hot tip. You sidle on over so as not to be noticed and lean in close.

Buffett is looking over quarterly reports shaking his head from side to side. He's punching numbers into the adding machine he bought used in 1971. He's talking to Charlie on one of those old rotary dial phones, discarded by someone else years ago.

He keeps saying the same thing into the phone. 'Too expensive, Charlie, they're all just too expensive'.

Soros is looking over his world atlas. He keeps saying the same thing. 'Our debts are soaking up savings from all these other places. Too much debt, bad for the dollar'. He leans into Buffet with his advice, and Buffet replies without looking up from his work, 'I hear you, George'.

Templeton is reading the daily paper and the stories about mutual fund abuses, CEO compensation and looming pension shortages and just sighs, saying, 'the system is broken. Too much short term thinking, too much'.

Rogers is breathing hard and wiping his brow, back from a trip to a far corner of the exchange floor where the discard bin sits unnoticed by most others. At his feet is a large bag. Soros asks his old partner what's in the bag and why is it so heavy.

'Got a bunch of lead, tin and palladium. It was just sitting there and it didn't cost very much. Its gotta be worth something. And I can't buy stocks with such a crowd gathered around throwing money around like that!'

Alas, as so often happens, you awaken refreshed in the morning and have already forgotten your dream of the Old Investors. Your automated neural defenders are sullen as they know that their latest efforts to keep you from hurting yourself will fail.

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 Post subject: Re: The Old GunFighter
PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 5:50 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 17, 2010 10:11 pm
Posts: 18
Yeah, I hear ya...

Those 'Old Farts' are good at what they do.
They're patient, well informed, have done their homework and don't just jump into anything all willy nilly.
I've followed their work and applied tried and true techniques to my own personal investments.
Over the years since I got sober in '1996' I've quadrupled my net worth.
This topic, though, might be better served in a more appropriate forum.

Marc


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