Acquaintances Are My Weakness

As best as I can determine, human relationships fall into three categories: romantic relationships, friendships, and casual acquaintances.  I've realized over the years that if anyone exists who doesn't have a weakness in creating or maintaining at least one of the three above types of relationships, I haven't met him or her yet.

Adults, even the well-adjusted ones I count as friends, seem to fall into one of the three below groups:

• Weak at romantic relationships, but good at friendships and good at casual acquaintances: This type of person has a wonderful social network but, by active decision or by simply not caring, rarely enters the world of romantic relationships.  There could be many reasons for this, but I'm not this type of person so any attempt of my own to understand this better would be conjecture and likely inaccurate.  
• Weak at friendships, good at romantic relationships and good at casual acquaintances: This is probably the least common of the three groups, but I do know a few people like this.  They can date someone seriously, they know a thousand people anywhere they go, but they only have like four people they can confide in and would meet my criteria of a true friend.  Again, I'm not this type of person so I don't want to dive too deeply into motivations, reasons, or whatnot - but I suspect trust may be the fundamental issue here.
• Weak at making casual acquaintances, good at romantic relationships and good at friendships: This is the bucket I place myself in.  Let's explore this a bit deeper...

I haven't always been this functional, but maintaining a stable and loving relationship with my wife isn't difficult at all - we have a strong, constructive relationship; we value the same things, and we love each other deeply.  Neither of us like yelling at each other (though we do this sometimes, which is a good thing).  Anything can happen in a relationship, but I feel like ours is an especially high-quality one.

Keeping close friends around isn't a challenge for me, either.  When I meet someone who I find interesting, and if the feeling is mutual, you're my friend until you decide you don't want to be my friend anymore.  I treat my friendships seriously and I count my friends as some of the most important people in my life.  In quantity as well as in quality, I feel I have more close friends than most people.  I'm going to pat myself in the back (metaphorically) for this here, because I'm about to enter a world where I'm likely to get kinda hard on myself.

Acquaintances are my weakness.  It's my critical, yet casual, observation that other adults put themselves in situations where they get to know lots of other people to a greater extent than myself.  They are also better at getting to know these people - they share a greater curiosity regarding other people, and/or are less nervous of being judged by them than I am.  I tend to keep to myself at parties, and as a result I don't get to know as many people as I otherwise could.

This is a ton of self-analysis which may or may not be interesting to anyone else, but I think it's because of each of the below factors:

1. I really, probably, am a rare type of person: I have strange interests and it's pretty clear I am of reasonable intelligence, which already turns off half of the people in the world (who are scared of quirky, smart people).
2. I am terrified of rejection: Failure bothers me, especially in a social context, and it's safer to get to know fewer people vs. more if you're worried (irrationally, of course) about not being considered "cool" or interesting.
3. I was never socialized correctly: I grew up in a really strange environment where everyone around me was either super quiet or super insanely loud, so I tend to assume the worst when I don't know someone.  The number one trait I hope not to carry on to my child, whenever he or she happens to happen, is this one.  I actively want my future child to talk to strangers.  They need to learn at a young age that virtually everyone is harmless.
4. I'm not a "joiner."  It's next to impossible to get me to join a group - it's the hardest thing in the world for me to do.  Part of it is the self-deprecating old Mark Twain saying, that I'd never want to be a part of any group which would have me as a member.  Part is the social phobia and fear of rejection thing, from above.  Another part is my latent libertarianism (I just don't really like groups of people, due to groupthink and the potential for bad things to happen when people cluster together). 

****

My next question is whether having acquaintances is even important; that is, of the three types of people I've listed above, is it the case that being the third type (which I am) makes a person less happy than being either of the previous two?  I have absolutely no idea whether this is the case - I suppose someone out there researches this kind of thing, but I haven't taken any time to look it up.  Perhaps I should, at some point.

I can say that personally (not generally speaking), the feeling that I don't know lots of people is important enough to me such that I've decided to take the time out of a lovely Sunday afternoon to write this blog post, so it must be a topic of at least some importance.  It's my opinion I'd be a happier, less anxious, and more well-adjusted adult if I knew more people.  My goal for this next decade of my life, my goal for my thirties, is to somehow end the decade knowing more people than I did at the beginning.

This will be difficult to do, because I'll have to work consciously to undo some of the mental barriers I've built over the first thirty years of my life.  It'll also be difficult because of the nature of being in one's thirties, a time in life when most people turn inward and spend more time at home with their spouse and child(ren).  But I still am hopeful I can pull it off.

There's no magic bullet for something like this, but some potential solutions may include:

• Sucking it up and joining a group: Eventually, I'm going to have to do this, right?  I've thought long and hard about joining some combination of a running group or a volunteering organization.  At some point I'm just going to hit a critical mass of motivation and/or desperation toward myself, and join a group.
• Having a kid: I'm pretty sure as I get older, the percentage of people who remain childless will continue to decrease.  If I really want to get to know more people, that's a nice secondary benefit of having kids.
• Not caring so damn much: This sort of defeats the whole purpose of this article, but if it doesn't matter to you, the problem doesn't exist, right?  I'm totally grateful for my wife and my friends, shouldn't that be enough?  And, borrowing from Eastern philosophy, shouldn't not caring so much lead to what you truly want coming true?  Something like this would be very far outside my comfort zone - I've spent the last thirty years grinding to make the things I want to have happen actually happen - but it's certainly a possibility.

What about you, blog reader?  Where do you find yourself in the categorization I described above, and do you feel comfortable where you are?  Have you ever dealt with anything like this?  Have any solutions worked well for you? 

SHUT IT DOWN! An Ode to "Bar Rescue," The Best Bad Show on TV

People spend their Sundays in various ways, but most agree that Sunday should be a laid-back day - it is, after all, the day of rest.  I admit to having spent many recent Sundays in front of the living room television, watching the "Bar Rescue" marathons on Spike (yes, I know, the bro-iest of bro channels). 

Today I'd like to write a bit about why I enjoy "Bar Rescue" so much, and why I think it's the best "bad" show on TV.  Your definition of "bad" may vary from mine; I conceive of "bad" TV as anything that doesn't aspire to high art or intellectual insight, doesn't explore any new ideas and doesn't differ procedurally from other shows of the same type.  Using these criteria alone, "Bar Rescue" does not vary notably from any of a dozen reality shows which center around the restaurant world ("Restaurant: Impossible" and "Dinner: Impossible" immediately come to mind, though one cannot completely neglect the extremely, reprehensibly Canadian "Restaurant Stakeout" and any number of similar shows on other channels, seemingly cut from the same Anthony Bourdain let's explore the gritty side of restaurant life in a reality TV show ideal).  But somehow, "Bar Rescue" is more interesting, more human, and keeps me glued to the TV all Sunday afternoon when I really should be outside pulling weeds (or something).

The premise behind "Bar Rescue" is quite simple: a bar is struggling and needs help.  Help comes in the imposing personage of Jon Taffer, a brusque teddy bear of a bar/leisure genius whose claim to fame (in addition to being a charter member of the Nightclub Hall of Fame, whatever - and wherever - that might be) is creating his own company which consults the bar/nightclub industries.  Whenever I hear Jon Taffer speak, I think of Mr. French from The Departed, who tells Leonardo DiCaprio's character (after roughing up a Southie local in a Boston bar): "Now, that's not quite a guy you can't hit, but it's almost a guy you can't hit."  John Taffer seems like almost the kind of guy you can't hit - he sounds like a connected individual, if you know what I mean.

But I digress: as far as I can tell, the show has nothing to do with organized crime.  Really it's about dysfunction, mismanagement, and the application of something vaguely referred to as "bar science" used - in combination with an overnight, extremely expensive renovation - to turn the bar around and make it more profitable.  "Bar science" is a combination of demography, market research, common sense, and psychotherapy (mostly, it seems, the psychotherapy part, because BAR OWNERS BE CRAZY).

You would probably know this already if you've watched any of the shows listed in the second paragraph above, but some people decide to own bars for really stupid reasons.  If you're like me, you've had that night at the bar with your friends where you decide opening a bar together would be the best idea ever.  You've got a (drunken) plan that sounds fantastic; all you need is start-up capital.  But then you go home, sober up, remember how much work it is to run a bar, and permanently shelve the idea.  Amazingly, there are people in the world who've already acquired start-up capital, get drunk one night and then ACTUALLY BUY A FUCKING BAR.  I don't understand how people forget crucial elements of starting a business such as "creating a business plan," "double-checking cash flow estimates," and "confirming you're not out of your goddamned mind," but hey, like P.T. Barnum once said, there's a sucker born every minute.

When I say these bars are in bad shape before Taffer gets there, I mean they are in really bad shape.  They don't clean their keg lines, so beer comes out contaminated and skunked.  Kitchens are never cleaned; basic sanitation rules are ignored; bugs can (sometimes) be everywhere.  You would never want to eat (or drink) at any of the bars on "Bar Rescue."  Additionally, mismanagement is rampant - some of these places have fights every night; others are glorified strip clubs.  There are countless alcoholics running these places (which may or may not surprise you, depending on how much you know about the bar industry). 

Others have the problems that don't belong to specific people, such as that of being an ill-defined concept - hookah bars in Omaha; golf-themed bars (apparently this never works), etc.  Still others are in unfortunate locations, like in nondescript strip malls and off of tertiary country roads.  Usually, it's some combination of the above.  Long story short, these places are really messed up, and "Bar Rescue" (to its credit) doesn't spare the rod in describing the problems with the bars - including getting into specifics about the magnitude of debt the owners possess, and how much time they have to float their small business loan before they go out of business for good.

********

You should definitely watch the show if you're interested in watching how the bars actually get rescued.  I can't do this justice in a single paragraph, but essentially it goes like this: Taffer and his companions (usually a master bartender/mixologist and a chef, though this depends on the context) work collaboratively to fix the personal and institutional dysfunction in the bar.  First they observe the bar using hidden cameras, then Taffer enters the bar and addresses immediate issues. Then there's a "stress test", where the bar staff does the best they can without training (and falls flat on their faces, almost all the time).  Next, training happens - sometimes, one or two bad seeds get fired in the process.  The bar gets completely remodeled, often given a new name and/or a new concept, and three days later it re-opens under its new name.  You (almost all of the time) see improvement.  Taffer leaves; there's an epilogue where you learn how much bar sales have improved over the last six weeks or so. 

It's cool to watch the logistics behind how Taffer fixes the physical issues with the bars.  Whether or not you believe in "bar science," there's little doubt the dude hasn't picked up a ton of useful information in his 30+ years in the industry.  He sees through issues and fixes them with a combination of bluntness, bluster and yelling (and MAN, can Jon Taffer scream - he seems like a very nice guy, but dude has a lightning-quick temper).

I'm not sure I buy the epilogues, though.  It shouldn't be that easy to turn these things around.  Looking at these essential bar problems as a businessperson, there's no way you can fix issues like "the manager's a drunk and has self-selected an employment position where they are constantly around alcohol" or "the bartenders have no clue how to serve drinks" in only three days.  I worked as a waiter for a few summers before and while in college, and I was terrible at it.  I eventually got a job at a fine dining place in Sea Bright, NJ, and could barely manage four tables at a time.  I spilled wine on people constantly - I could barely balance a tray with three entrees on it.  I sucked, and I sucked for reasons that weren't very fixable.  You can't just come in for three days and fix suck. It takes a while to create a well-oiled machine...

But that's Hollywood for you, right?  When watching it, you get the fantastical sense that "Bar Rescue" works.  If I had the free time and disposable income, I'd want to go on a "Bar Rescue" road trip and talk to the people who work at these places - I have questions for them.  Did they immediately revert back to their dysfunctional ways, after Taffer and his team left?  Was it fun getting yelled at for a reality TV show?  That's the thing about the whole shitty genre of restaurant reality TV: even if you don't know the characters, if you've ever waited tables or bussed or cleaned dishes at a restaurant before, you know the characters.  There's a familiar yet odd combination of insanity, stupidity, back-breaking labor, gallows humor, substance abuse, and low wages about the people portrayed on "Bar Rescue."  It all ends up being humanizing.  With some (notable) exceptions, you want to root for them.  If I ever did go on that "Bar Rescue" road trip, and the bar was actually pretty decent, you bet your ass I would tip well.

********

To conclude, some cool tidbits about "Bar Rescue":

• Taffer's only walked out on one rescue (that shitty O-Face bar in Iowa), but a few of the rescued bars immediately reverted back to their original concept after the "Bar Rescue" team left.  Many more have since closed down - the Wikipedia page for Bar Rescue is a good resource for this (someone really pays close attention to this shit).
• According to iMDB, here's how the secret cameras work: The bars are told they are one of three bars in the area that might be selected for the show.  But in reality, they're the only bar selected, and this helps keep everyone off-guard for when Jon Taffer walks in.
• Also according to iMDB, the renovation budget for each bar is huge (up to $100,000 per episode), even though certain upgrades (like Point of Sale systems) are leased and ultimately it's up to the bar owners to keep up with the payments.

Fred's "A Partial Taxonomy of Kinds of Drivers"

As readers of this blog know, I spend a great deal of time driving, which I don't necessarily mind because it gives me time to think.  In fact, I was driving home from work earlier this week when the idea for this blog post struck me as interesting - interesting primarily because it's next to impossible to nail down entirely. 

Driving is weird, from a social perspective.  We're all around each other, but we're really not, being individually surrounded by thousands of pounds of life-protecting armor.  We can't communicate with each other, but really we can, because we have horns and two functioning middle fingers.  And we don't know each other, but really we do, because we make snap judgments about other drivers that, more likely than chance, at least, are correct.

This post enumerates only seven different kinds of drivers you might encounter on the road, which I've decided to classify based on overall driving tendencies/patterns as well as the type(s) of cars most likely to exhibit the driving pattern.  Other taxonomies might look at factors such as gender, ethnicity, and/or socioeconomic status, but I'm not enough of an asshole to start that particular flame war, so I'll leave those factors out (pretty much) completely.

Regardless, I'm sure the list presented here is incomplete.  One could easily break this list down to twenty (or more) additional types of drivers, if they really wanted to spend the time.  Maybe I'll write another post about this one day, with additional types of drivers.  That said, I'd be interested to hear who/what I left out, because only through greater understanding of the types of drivers that are out there can we better make fun of other drivers on the road.

Let's get started:

**********************************

Driver #1: The Left-Lane Hog
Vehicles Associated with Left-Lane Hogging: Old, dented Subarus with Pennsylvania license plates (or Michigan, or Florida, etc.)

This driver is going to make a left-hand turn EVENTUALLY, dammit, and if you have the patience to wait behind them while they lag behind the traffic to their right, you'll see it happen at some point.  New Jersey drivers have a particular idiosyncrasy about the left lane being for passing only, but that aside, it is undeniably dangerous to hog the left lane when not passing the cars to their right.  Why?  Because other drivers are flawed, and on top of this can be super-aggressive assholes, and will pass you on the right - one of the most dangerous moves to make on the highway.

These left-lane hogging drivers may be motivated by some combination of (a) intense fear of doing the correct thing, which is coasting in the right lane, entering the left lane a mere half-mile or so before making their left turn, and then successfully executing their left turn; and/or (b) a pervasive attitude I like to call "speed fascism" (this is the opposite of "speed libertarianism," something I'll let simmer for right now and elucidate a bit later in the post).  Either way, the only defense for a Left-Lane Hog is to either be the next type of driver, or have enough gamesmanship in you to allow the next type of driver to tailgate the Left-Lane Hog while you wait for your opportunity to strike.

Driver #2: The Small, Swinging Dick
Vehicles Associated with The Small, Swinging Dick: Relatively new, American-made pick-up truck (like a Dodge Ram) with top-level trim and modified large wheels, replete with some combination of overt patriotism and/or social conservatism on display via bumper sticker

Motivated by an intense, constant need to prove their masculinity, this driver will do anything possible within the rules (and often outside the rules) of the road to show they are in charge.  Miserably under-employed and perpetually angry at THAT LIBRUL PRESEDENT for their ill fortune at life, yet somehow capable of affording a $600 monthly payment on a $50,000 piece of Hemi-powered machinery, these drivers don't really drive with a game plan exclusive of GITTIN 'ER DUN.

And by GITTIN 'ER DUN, I mean you git out of their way before they start ridin' your ass!  These drivers are noted for their incessant tailgating, which can be followed by the lead car shifting to the right lane and this type of car slowing down.  It's not that they want to go fast, per se, it's just that they hate that you're there in front of them (especially if your car wasn't built in AMURRICA).  The (only) nice thing about this type of driver is that they are exploitable - as I alluded to earlier, a cognizant driver can let The Small, Swinging Dick tailgate the Left-Lane Hog to their advantage.  Just be prepared to pass two cars in a zig-zag, slalom fashion (which may not be the safest move in the world, but hey, YOLO, right?).

Driver #3: The Wealthier-Than-Thou
Vehicles Associated with The Wealthier-Than-Thou: German-made luxury sedans, SUVs, and convertibles, often proudly displaying one's educational pedigree (bonus points for a boarding school in addition to an accredited four-year undergraduate institution)

While these drivers can be sometimes classified as aggressive, they are better classified as a hybrid of many of the other driving types, a chameleon typified by the driver's immense sense of self-importance and distraction.  Counting down the seconds until they can become early adopters of autonomous vehicles, Wealthier-Than-Thou drivers can be found in their natural habitats chirping incessantly on their Bluetooth hands-free device (making huge business deals, or whatever) - not that it makes much of a difference that it's hands-free, because they're not paying much attention to the road in the first place.

Unpredictable by nature, the self-aware driver can nonetheless advantageously pass the Wealthier-Than-Thou driver by waiting for their nanny/au pair/cleaning service to beep into their existing cell phone conversation, distracting them even further - or alternatively, wait for them to fuel up on gas and recursively connect their car battery, setting a car fire a la "Breaking Bad".

Driver #4: The Senior Citizen
Vehicles Associated with The Senior Citizen: The last car they will ever buy.  Make and model matter less than age - if it's an old car (preferably a large one), you know what you're dealing with here

Included here for the purposes of completeness rather than illuminating something new, The Senior Citizen mostly keeps to themselves in the right lane, self-aware of their declining skill set and terrified of the increasing aggressiveness of those young whippersnappers out there. They're easy enough for the other types of drivers to deal with, so there's not much instructional material here.

But there is a nice Jerry Seinfeld joke about elderly drivers I'll paraphrase here: people should be allowed to drive their age.  If you're 86 years old, you should be allowed to go 86 mph on the highway - and they should, because they should be rushing, as they don't have much time left.

Driver #5: The Speed Libertarian
Vehicles Associated with The Speed Libertarian: Varied, but have in common the ability to go fast if needed

I'm a fan of the Speed Libertarian, and I don't have much negative to say about them, as I fancy myself this type of driver.  I alluded to the "speed fascist" vs. "speed libertarian" dualism earlier in this post, and I'd like to clarify it a bit here.  A speed fascist sees the speed limit on a given road as an absolute force, a number never to be violated by more than a certain amount.  They drive exactly the same as a speed libertarian in terms of technique, but if the speed limit is 55 mph, you'll never see them go over 65 mph (as but a single example).  This may be due to an extreme fear of getting pulled over for speeding, or personal discomfort about the possibility of an accident if they were to go too fast.  I think basically, speed fascism (like actual fascism) is driven by fear of an authoritarian state.

Speed libertarians, on the other hand, see speed as a relative variable and better understand that (for instance) if you're in the left lane, the proper speed to be driving is 5 mph faster than the person to the right of you, irrespective of the actual speed of the person to the right of you.  If a speed libertarian is uncomfortable with the speed of the car to the right of them, insofar as they'd prefer not to drive faster than that individual, they change lanes to the right and travel behind that person.  Speed libertarians are, at the end of the day, probably incrementally more likely to get pulled over for speeding than speed fascists - sometimes they fall into traps where they do go too fast.  But they rest assured that police officers generally look at speed relative to the flow of traffic when deciding to do so, so they drive in a more fluid stylistic fashion.

Speed libertarians are better drivers than speed fascists, in my opinion, though speed fascists may be somewhat safer (I'll leave the definition of "safe" open on purpose).

Driver #6: The "I'm Terrified To Be Driving" Driver
Vehicles Associated with the "I'm Terrified To Be Driving" Driver: Older, economy cars, for the most part - sometimes minivans, too

We all remember what it's like to be a new driver, but if we remembered it too well, it'd probably drive us insane and/or give us the yips.  Being on the highway as a new driver is absolutely terrifying, which is a main reason why we have learner's permits which require new drivers to travel with a licensed companion (and only at certain times of the day).  I am not talking here about new drivers, because I completely empathize with them and would never make fun of a person for learning a new skill.  I don't know about you, but whenever I see "Student Driver" on a car, I give them a wide-as-hell berth, because I remember being 16 and thinking to myself, I am WAY too young to be managing this process right now.

There's another class of driver though, far beyond the Student Driver in terms of experience but basically the same in terms of expertise, that I'd like to describe.  They're hard to define except in terms of their incompetence, which is dicey water to enter because observers tend to disagree on what defines incompetence.  Except for in this case, because everyone knows it when they see it.

You might see the "I'm Terrified To Be Driving" driver in the left lane going 20 mph under the speed limit with their left-hand blinker on.  You might see them waiting on a side street and pulling out JUST in front of a moving vehicle, cutting them off severely.  Based on their extremely dangerous and terrible driving behavior, you might think they are drunk and/or high on something, but it's 11 am on a Tuesday and the driver doesn't look drunk or high, they just look mortified.

I'll say nothing else about this type of driver, except that it's my opinion that driver's licenses should be more difficult to obtain (from a technique perspective) than they currently are.  At a bare minimum, drivers should have to display minimum levels of competency in actual traffic during a road test.  The rules about establishing driving proficiency come from a different time, when there were more farms and less congestion on the roads.  It'd be great to see someone change this, though it strikes me as the type of political debate where common sense and pissing people off are diametrically opposed (so nothing ever happens).

Driver #7: The Driving for Work Driver
Vehicles Associated with the Driving for Work Driver: Ford E-series work vans, semis

There's a fundamental difference in attitude and philosophy between people who commute to work and people who drive FOR work (truck drivers, delivery people, etc.).  When you're commuting to your job, you're trying to get somewhere to do work and ideally, you'd like to get there in as quick and trouble-free a process as possible.  I've always felt the most competent driving you'll ever see is between 7-9 am and between 5-7 pm on weekdays - these are mostly drivers who are going to the same place they've been going for years, and they're focused on getting there as quickly as possible.  They're experienced and they're motivated, which is a good combination.

People who drive FOR work, however, are often driving at the exact same time and are motivated by completely different things.  They have deadlines and quotas to meet, so it does behoove them to proceed somewhat efficiently toward their destination, but after years and years of driving for a living, there's simply no way that getting somewhere fast can mean as much to a semi driver than it does to someone driving to their marketing or sales job.  Plus, the vehicles they drive are by nature limited in terms of their acceleration and dexterity, intensifying the perceived differentiation between the Driving FOR Work driver and those who merely drive to work.

Passing a semi-truck on the right is the most dangerous move someone can make on the road, and as a result I (almost) never do it.  My commute to work is on a truck route (part of it is a two-lane highway for almost ten miles), and the best advice I can give (often spoken mantra-like to myself in the car) is to wait for a reasonable opportunity to pass one of these behemoths on the left.  But I will say this - there's no landscape pastoral or beautiful enough to counter-act having to stare at the back of a semi truck for ten miles.

The Worst Investment I Ever Made (and How I Eventually Broke Even)

If you’ve been investing over the last several years (or even if you haven’t been investing, but somehow managed to watch TV), you know the United States financial markets have been on a roller coaster ride.  It started with the hypothetical boom years of the middle 2000’s, which turned out to be predicated on invisible markets, over-leveraged financial institutions, and the ultimate inability of many unemployed and unemployable Americans to pay $500,000 adjustable rate mortgages on mansions.  So, a recession followed, and then for the last (maybe) three years, we’ve been in this odd, “gird your loins”-style stock market rally, which terrifies me because it, too, seems to be built on a house of cards (if the economy were truly healthy, the Federal Reserve would be increasing interest rates, not holding them at zero percent and also continuing to buy mortgage-backed assets every month like it’s 2009 still).

I’m not terribly optimistic about the United States economy over the short-term future  – it’s been only five years since the last recession started, and it strikes me that it should take at least ten years to undo the epic mess we had created in that recession.

But it is also fair to say that, in a vacuum, 2013 has been a good year for the US stock market(s).  The S&P 500 (and if you’re reading this as a beginner, the S&P 500 – NOT the Dow Jones index – is the more accurate barometer of the two, as it has a much larger base of companies included within itself) is currently up over 28% for the year, which historically speaking is pretty damned huge.  And at the moment, I am smiling from ear to ear because my worst-ever investment has broken even for the first time in seven years.  This is the story of my worst-ever investment.

*****************************

I graduated from college back in 2006, and received a decent amount of money as graduation gifts from my extended family, right around the time I received a job offer.  My father suggested I invest the graduation gift money, since I now had a job that was going to pay me a steady income, and since it makes a ton of sense to begin investing and saving as early as possible. 

His advice was well-intentioned, but it should have been followed with “and hey, did you ever hear about low-cost index funds?”  Because I had absolutely no clue what to do, I decided to invest my graduation money in a taxable account instead of a tax-free Roth IRA (a bad mistake at the time, but in the long run this could be helpful as it’s important for earners at a certain income level – and I hope to get there someday - to diversify between taxable and tax-free accounts).  I also decided to chase high past returns, by investing in a mutual fund which focused on the “Brokerage and Investment Management” sector.  These companies had been sky-high profitable in the past few years, and by no coincidence at all happened to be the very same companies that essentially caused the Great Recession of 2008 (e.g., Goldman Sachs, AIG, etc.).

Here is the performance of the specific fund I invested in over the last ten years (from 2004 through 2013):

Note that I invested in this fund around the end of 2006; that is, RIGHT AT THE HIGH POINT OF THE CHART.  Hindsight is always 20/20, and for sure, it looked like I didn’t even buy high for the following year or so, as the market continued to bubble upwards. 

But by early 2009, when I’d seen my investment essentially cut down by 70% (and seemingly decreasing in value every day), it was a huge judgment call whether or not I should consider selling the fund and hoarding the cash.  Everywhere around me, it seemed that otherwise-calm financial professionals were shuffling people’s money around in a desperate attempt to chase returns - I still recall my dad’s financial advisory firm putting a third of his retirement assets in cash, out of fear of total collapse; then moving it into gold, as an inflation hedge; then moving it into the “small cap-value” section of the market, hoping to ride the recovery.  (My dad got pissed off and eventually, justifiably, fired these guys.)

I eventually decided to stay put and hold the money exactly where it was.  Thankfully by then I had started reading books on investing, starting with more beginner-friendly books like Henry Blodget’s “Wall Street Self-defense Manual” and then moving along to more mathematical books such as Burton Malkiel’s “Random Walk Down Wall Street,” and lots of what I read seemed to converge on one fundamental truth of investing – a regular guy off the street can’t beat the market in the short term, he can only ride it in the long term (which isn’t bad, actually, because the market tends to beat inflation over the “long term”), so he’s always better off making fewer, long-term-focused decisions.

(BTW, the “you’re always better off making fewer decisions” also strikes me as solid logic for real estate purchases – closing costs kill you when you’re buying, and kill you twice when you’re selling, so you’re almost always better off staying put, from a wealth management perspective.)

So this brings us to the present day – it took almost seven years, but I’m officially right back where I started*.  (*NOTE: Not accounting for inflation, which I technically should account for – this would mean I’m actually still about 8-10% behind, but would also make for a less interesting blog post.) 

What were the good moves I made throughout?  Well, I could have sold low and consequently not ridden as steep of a wave to recovery, but I didn’t. The fund I invested in was very “swingy”, and as a result, its returns accelerated somewhat faster than an S&P 500 index fund has accelerated over the last few years.  I also could have not learned from my mistake and foolishly followed the same philosophy of chasing high past returns in later purchases (I did say this was the worst investment of my life – I’ve made others, all of which were smarter and some of which are up 35% or so this year alone).

But the bad moves I made are more illustrative.  First, I chased a “sexy” fund and I ended up getting bitten in the ass.  That was a dumb move, and thankfully I learned from it at a young age.  I also didn’t pay attention to advisory fees (1.79%, which is super high – an S&P 500 index fund could be as low as 0.15%!), thinking foolishly that investment portfolio managers were worth that cost for their expertise and their ability to perform “above average”.  Lots of research is out there on this, and most of it says that no one is worth 1.79% as an advisory fee, and virtually no one is worth even 1 percent – those fees cut into returns in a huge way over time. 

So that’s my story.  All caveats apply as to me not being a financial professional, but hopefully people reading this get a sense of what I did wrong and what I learned from my mistake.  The ultimate story here is probably that perseverance is key, even moving forward.  I don’t plan to pull my money out of this fund any time soon (a potentially controversial move, but it’s my “pet gamble” – I’ve already been willing to lose it once, so I guess I’m willing to lose it twice), and who knows, in 25 years maybe it’ll fund my early retirement!  (Ha ha ha.)

10 Ways of Knowing Fred

10 Ways of Knowing Fred

Anyone that knows Fred knows that he nearly always follows everything through to completion.  However, life (and fixation on a Party Bus, probably) has prevented Fred from completing his 30 mini-blogs.  So his friends (at time of post) decided to finish it for him, with 10 mini-blogs on Fred.  After all, what better way to cap off 20 of the most self-indulgent mini-blogs ever???

 1.  Fred the Poker Player: Brainpan

Fred after an average night of gambling. In his mind.

              I first met Fred when he was an undergraduate at Rutgers and I was a grad student.  He walked into a lab meeting and didn't say much.  At least I didn't notice him saying much, maybe he just said all sorts of uninteresting things.  Eventually I found out he played poker and it was then that he became interesting.  We became friends that way, and through watching Fred play poker I've generally learned a lot more about Fred than I have about poker.  That's not to say he's a bad poker player, even though he most certainly is.  But what I mean right now is that certain character traits become amplified when he plays.

             Fred's play at the poker table is in many ways similar to his approach to life, at least the approach I see.  He tends to sit down at the table formally.  He neatly stacks his chips.  He prepares for war.  You can see him visibly justifying each of his actions both to himself and to the rest of the table.  He furrows his brow when it seems questionable.  Sometimes he does that on purpose to make you think it's questionable.  He's aware of all of this and he's aware of most of the table's actions as well.  Most importantly, though, he expects to win.  And he expects to win quickly, and precipitously, and he'll take calculated risks to get there.  Most people are happy with a win rate of a few big blinds per hour.  Fred expects to win a buy-in every couple hours.  The crazy thing is, he often does.  Just look at his job.  Or his wife.  Or his house.  What, you thought we were still talking poker?

2.  Fred the Sports Fan: Brainpan

Just another casualty from the Baseball Incident of 2008.

              Others on this blog might have seen Fred deal with more sporting events than I have.  I've heard the stories of broken cell phones and I'll leave that to them if they so choose.  Instead, I have seen another side of Fred as a sports fan, which can best be described as Spock if Spock was a terrible, terrible Vulcan.  Fred doesn't just cheer for a sports team, he memorizes it.  That includes all manner of history like statistics, names, numbers, dates when something happened, injuries, draft placements, college tenures, and the list goes on ad nauseum.  He can trace two teams back-stories to that one moment in time when they butt heads and understand all of the in's and outs.  He can play the scenario out in his head and have a pretty good idea of who will, or at least who should, come out on top.  This is all leading up to the game, total Spock-like clarity of thought and rational judgment.

              Then comes game-time.  Eli throws a pick.  Mo blows a save.  Manning-face.  Sagging head and shoulders.  Or maybe it's just that the Giants ran right but Spock saw left-side weakness.  Maybe Joba Chamberlain hung a curve that wasn't smashed over the fences but definitely showed he didn't have his stuff.  Does it matter to Spock?  Nope, because Spock is a terrible, terrible Vulcan, and the rage is unable to be contained.  It smashes through to the surface, but to his credit, it often comes out in short bursts at first, sometimes batted back down by beer.  It takes a lot for that cell phone to launch.  But it does, or so I've heard.

             Interesting, though, is that this also happens when he's part of the team.  In softball Fred is very hard on himself (and I'd assume the rest of the team, though he does well to hide it).  It makes me really want to see Fred coach his kids someday.  Or fear it.  Well, both, really.

3. Fred the Competitor: Scott

Fred is not above competing against weak, defenseless children.

I once cohabitated with Fred. During that time, and in the subsequent medically-mandated psychotherapy sessions that followed, I've learned that he is an incredibly competitive individual, but not in the typical sense. Most folks who are competitive are desperately trying to feel better than others -- they are jerks who take every opportunity to brag about their accomplishments because they are deeply insecure about themselves, and their competitiveness is a vain attempt to impress an imposing family member, like an estranged father figure or a cruel mistress.

And while that describes Fred freakishly well, the difference is that he almost exclusively competes against himself. His competitive weaponry is pointed inwards, rather than at some defenseless bystander, like a child or a kitten. Case in point: we took a class together, and due to our friendship and our desire to avoid a bloodbath, we had an unspoken rule that we would not divulge test scores to one another. Well, at one point we broke that rule, and it turned out that I did better than he did. Fred was furious, but instead of being angry with me, he was angry at himself. And the test. And the teacher. And Obama. But most of all, himself. Needless to say, he never let that happen again.

Fred's competitiveness is like a superpower, but instead of using it for evil, he uses it for good. Not "good" in the "Superman Saves The Day" sense, but "good" as it pertains to the Frediverse. Which is a universe absolutely riddled with Peanut Butter Cups.

Fred: THIS COULD BE US!

4. Fred the Hobbyist: Scott

I've spent literally several seconds wracking my brain, and I cannot think of a single time Fred has uttered the words, "No, I don't want to do that, it sounds boring." Fred collects hobbies the way one might collect Pokemon, and strangely he doesn't get bored of them after a few days like most people. Instead, he studies and scrutinizes his hobbies, he listens to the enthusiasts, and he learns in an attempt to master. In my time, I have seen him take up guitar-playing, fish-keeping, poker-betting, cigar-smoking, cruise-ship-riding, golf-club-swinging, beer-making-and-drinking-and-also-wine-sometimes, gun-shooting, sports-watching-and-analyzing-and-yelling, advanced-shrubbery-and-yard-caring-for, dog-having, and obsessive-market-research-analyzing-that-I-barely-understand-but-try-to-keep-up-with.

This is probably related to his competitive side. If butterfly-collecting ever catches his interest, you can be sure he will immediately buy a book written by the world champion of lepidoptery, and his house will be full of butterflies in a week. Did you know there is a National Model Railroad Association? The next NMRA convention is next July in Cleveland, and I bet we could blow those nerds out of the water with a kick-ass layout! Also, have you heard about radiosport? It's a competition for ham radio operators. How hard do you think it could be to win one of those things? NOT HARD AT ALL!

Luckily, as a bystander, I can use Fred as a test case. If I ever want to check out a new hobby, but I'm not sure if I'd like it, I can quietly suggest to him that it might be cool to engage in amateur astronomy or local politics, and see what he does. I realize that this process of peer-pressuring him into extraneous activities for my own amusement might bankrupt him -- but at the same time, I kinda want to know if it'd be fun to get my pilot's license.

5. Fred the Lover: April

Artist's depiction of Fred preparing for the act of lovemaking.

HA yeah. Like I’m going to share that.

6. Fred the Analyst: April

As always, relevant XKCD.

This may sound similar to some of his attributes described above (being competitive, a sports fan, minion of Gamblor, etc.), but in the 8 years and counting that I’ve been with Fred (in the biblical sense, giggity), I have observed that he is a true researcher at heart. Of course he did research as part of his scholarly pursuits, and is currently even making a living at it--however, it’s the research into things that others may find mundane or unnecessary that are truly unique to the enigma that is Fred.

Take for example: wedding planning. See, this is what happens when you invite a chick to guest post. I’m not going to get into colors and fabric swatches and other things you might care to look up on the Knot. Instead, I’ll share the incredibly awesome way in which Fred decided that we should approach looking at potential venues. With research! He created a fantastic 6-point Likert scale for a variety of attributes that we found to be important to us. These included such areas of interest as the cost (not only the total cost but also the perceived value of what was offered with the cost), desirability of location, customer service, etc. Naturally, there was also space provided for each of us to provide qualitative measures as well, since sticking just to quantitative may be just a bit too technical and cold.

We took these sheets with us to each of the venues that we visited, dutifully filled them out in the car afterward, and then shared our findings. And in the end when we picked our chosen venue, it not only “felt right” in the gut, but it also scored highly on those carefully created Likert scales. So of course, we could both feel confident in our decision and Fred could inject something typically smoopy and feminine with just the right amount of scientific sensibility. 

7. Fred the Roomate: Patently Jersey

Editor's note: Never, EVER, Google image "hairy guy in boxers."

Most of the posters on this blog have lived with Fred at one point or another in these short three decades he has had on this planet.  I had the good fortune of living of him in college, you know, back when he was good.  It was an incredibly good year, that consisted of me trying to lure him to frat parties, and us trying to score beer.  I learned a few things about Fred during that year.  One, he likes his meat, and he likes it plentiful.  He prefers sausages made on the Foreman Grill, made in the basement.  Two, he may be the inspiration for the Wookie race from Star Wars.  Truly, I know no one that is hairier than Fred, and he frequently strolled the apartment in just his boxers.  That image haunts my dreams.  Fortunately he found the wonderfully accepting Angel that is April, who not only tolerates his furriness, but finds it endearing.  Third, this is when his poker obsession started, but he had to wait a few months into the year before he could go gambling.  Lastly, I will never bunk my beds with anyone ever again. 

8. Fred the Giver: Patently Jersey

Fred is a great family member and friend, and on top of that, he is a giver.  Referencing back to when we were roommates there were two incidents I would like to cite to, the first of which was within the first few weeks.  I had returned from a rush event at the frat that Fred had turned down my invitation to (you vagina), it was Around the World.  The event consists of going room to room in the frat, with different alcoholic drinks/shots in each room.  After I went around the world twice, I found myself with a bottle of Everclear in my hand, and ended up taking 5 shots of it before stumbling home.  What I suffered from the next day, could only be described as an epic hangover.  There was no urge to vomit (unfortunately I think this would have helped), but my head and my HEART were both pounding, I thought my heart was going to explode.  Fred spent the day at the dorm, in the event I needed to go to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.  Said hangover lasted until about 9pm.

Round 2 in life with Fred.  I realize that we are going for brevity here, so I will make this tidbit shorter.  I was

Where Santa Babies come from?

seeing a girl in the spring, that left me (unintentionally) with the worst case of blue balls ever.  I told Fred I needed the dorm for a while to deal with my problem, I waived my embargo on his smoking cigarettes, and he dared on return until I called him to tell him “all clear”.  Thank you for that.  On a similar note, last year I began dating my girlfriend shortly before we all went down to AC to gamble.  While there were 4-5 couples down there, and 2 rooms, Fred arranged for she and I to have a room to ourselves, knowing that we both lived at home with our parents.  Man was that ever appreciated.  Also, we want to know what happened to that Santa hat we left behind?

Fred is also no stranger to giving the occasional handy and ZJs… what a giver!

9. Fred the Athlete: Ryan Stevens, guest blogger

Fred: Lucy not included (or necessary)

    
It all started at "Roll Bowl". This is where I first witnessed Fred's unmatched quickness, unparalleled plyometric abilities, and uncanny mix of agility and speed. Wait...I think that was the other way around. That is what Fred thought of me. Well, he did catch a few passes, when they were in prevent defense. Mostly 5 yard hook patterns. But, you can be damn sure he recognized that prevent defense, and knew that the soft spot in it was 5 yards up the seam. The man knows sports and the man knows pattern recognition. As I reflect back on Fred the Athlete, I now see the underlying problem. It's not that Fred was a "showstopper" on the football field. It wasn't that Fred won the triple crown in his slow-pitch softball league. It isn't his left-handed-from-the-windup fastball clocking in at 53 mph. Or even that Fred's 1997 little league baseball card shows a striking resemblance to Greg Minton holding a bat like Felix Millan (insert pictures). It's that he wasn't training properly for any of these events. (If Fred had hired me at age 12, HE'D be the current New York Yankee always getting in trouble with steroids...) Let's reference back to Scott in #3 and #4, and let's tie in Fred's internal competition and success in hobbies. Let's talk about Fred's most athletic hobby he's ever taken up - running. True, anybody can "run". But to run at Fred's level, you have to be an athlete. He's become a modern-day Forrest Gump. I have deep admiration for how much Fred continues to improve - and dominate - his race running, from 5K's to marathons (and by that I am not referencing April in #5). He has the perfect mindset of a successful runner: superb internal motivation, consistent preparation, and a total disregard for leg pain. Now if only he shaved his body to become more aerodynamic, he'd be capable of sub-4:00 miles. He truly does succeed at >87.6% of all he attempts when he puts his mind to it. If he doesn't succeed, he knows exactly why he didn't and what beyond-his-control factors led to him not. So, here's my bold prediction: Fred will win the 2053 World Masters Athlete Decathlon, coached by me. He will put his mind to it, and with the proper guidance, he will dominate.

10.  Fred the Most Interesting Man in the World: Ryan Stevens, guest blogger 

See also #5

- His lawn is more finely manicured than Katie Morgan’s “lawn”.

- His cereal never gets soggy. It sits there, staying crispy, just for him.

- His analytic thinking is envied by Stephen Hawking. As is his posture.

- His body hair is insured for more money than Heidi Klum’s legs

- He is single-handedly responsible for every successful marketing campaign carried out in the last 7 years.

Disclaimer: results not typical.

- He owns his own lawfirm: Fredjarvis Brown-Anus. They never lose a case.

- He once won World Series of Poker using Uno cards.

- Bigfoot tries to get pictures of him.

- Right Said Fred named their band after him, as a tribute.

- Meta World Peace asked him for permission before changing his name. So did He Hate Me. God Shammgod did not. 

- He is still a Giants fan. 

He is, the most interesting man in the world. Fred: "I don't always drink beer. Wait, yes I do. And when I do, I don't drink crap."

Ka-Chow!

Fred, congrats on staying alive for 30 years.  Let's hope you can keep going!!  Happy birthday!!!