Gosh, I feel so poor today. Then I remember I am poor, so at least I’m not imagining things.
Yes, yes, boo-hoo-hoo, stocks lost big time. Where do we turn? Some of you know that we here at the homestead eschew all but one financial indicator. And to assist in interpreting the indications, I've called in my county extension agent and part time financial advisor. His business card says: "I'll put your money where my mouth is," and I've suggested he tweak that a little.
This is the Altadena Economic Banometer. And things must have been going along ok for awhile, because my advisor and I haven’t checked it in months. To our detriment. Fasten your banana belt, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Here it stands -- battered, broken, a shadow of its former self. To make matters worse, encroachment on all sides. Even some judicial trimming doesn’t improve the picture at all. What to do, what to do? Have we thrown the paddle out with the bathwater; are we up shit creek without a baby?
Horseshit! My financial advisor barks, unashamed that his dooty bag hangs on the fence in plain sight. And though a man of few words, I know what he's getting at.
The banana is a spineless plant, and though the leaves suggest something of substance, if you peel back the layers you'll find nothing there except some lowly bugs and a little life's blood. So lesson one: Never peek. And if you promise not to look, you'll find the banometer dies back, but then even though nothing changes substantially, significantly, it shoots up again, requiring only the promise of a few sunny days and a constant supply of manure.
So I feel better now. Even though I'm trusting a financial advisor who has a taste for shit and doesn't care if the world knows it.
0 comments:
Post a Comment