I think you could count winning the lottery
as luck. There are other times that might appear to be simple luck, but I think
there’s more to it than that—I think it’s the brain doing a computer-like
calculation and telling you to take a certain course of action.
One of those times occurred to me in the
1980’s when I was between sea voyages and living in Toronto
But I’d always been fascinated by gold (the
pirate treasure kind), so it was Mort’s section on the magical yellow metal
that caught my attention. He made three basic suggestions as I recall, ranging
from the conservative to the rather bold. I opted for the latter which, if memory
serves, went something like this: If you have $10,000 that you can afford to
lose, buy gold futures.
What possessed me to follow the advice of
this writer I’d never heard of before? Who knows…that little computer brain
thing perhaps. Anyway, I began my investment career with two futures contracts.
Whenever gold went up a dollar, I made $200. I bought the contracts when it was
just over $400 an ounce and it began shooting up.
The whole thing worked out rather well for
me—over the course of around three months I made about $140,000. At one time I
held six contracts. I remember the time as a wild, roller-coaster ride.
Another benefit of my little foray into the
investment world was the free food and grog. Friends and acquaintances were
desperate to discover the secret of my success so there was rarely a day went
by that I didn’t have an invitation to lunch or dinner. I started off by
telling the truth—that I’d been given a book and I was simply following its
advice—but no one wanted to believe it was that simple and after forking out
for the food and booze, they’d leave disappointed.
So I began to make stuff up. I’d draw
meaningless graphs on napkins and fire off a bunch of statistics—the kind of
stuff stock brokers waffle on about to convince you to buy. Stuff that kind of
validates what’s already happened but has no bearing whatsoever on the future.
But the bulls--t appeared to be more palatable to my hosts. At the end of the meal, they’d tuck their napkin graphs carefully
into pockets and smilingly pay the bill, as if they’d absorbed some great
wisdom.
Toward the end of the ride, when gold was
up over $800 per ounce, it began to waver. But good old Mort had left instructions
for such a circumstance. Buy short, he advised, at the first signs of weakness.
And so I did. I was now making money as it began to go down.
Funny though—people don’t always appreciate
success when it’s you who’s enjoying it rather than them. I was walking into my
local bar one night when someone I vaguely knew was leaving. “How’s your gold
doing now?” he pipes up with a gleeful smirk on his face.
“Fine thanks,” I replied politely. “I bought
short.” The grin dropped from his face like a rock.
How
come I wasn’t invited to help spend the loot? Davina
Peter, Just Think if you had bought gold in the early 70's when it was $35,00 an ounce . We would all be on Easy Street. A teacher friend of mine did just that ,every penny he had went into gold. He encouraged me to do like wise, but as one would have it ,I didn't have pot to piss in or window to throw it out. So much for lost oppurtunties . SIDNEY
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