The April Fools of the US equity market in the Year of our Lord, 2025

 I don't give investment advice to friends. I don't care about the outcome enough to stay engaged, the personal payoff structure is asymmetrical. Family is different. Them, I try to keep out of the ditch, if they ask. 

The market fell off sharply as our President has become enamored with a tax called a tariff. Markets will tolerate a modest hike in taxes, but not on the scale he is proposing. 

To paraphrase Winston Churchill, badly. Never sell out of US stocks. Never. Never. Never. 

Buy when the market is rising, buy when it is falling, buy when it is flat. Never, never sell. Buy when a President is healthy, buy when one is assassinated. Buy when oil is plentiful, buy when there is a shortage. Buy when there is no cure for a terrible virus. Buy when a vaccine is developed. Buy when you love the President, buy when you don't. Buy when you're sober, buy when you're not. Buy when there is war, when there is rumor of war, when there is peace. Buy when your dog dies, when your cat dies (especially), when your Uncle Wayne dies.

Granted there are times when one should sell everything, go to cash, wait for clarity. Ask CNBC or Fox Business they see it all the time. Having been born in 1956 I have yet to see such a day. 

What so many people fail to realize is our emotions act in an opposite fashion of real things. 

When the market falls we percieve (feel) that risks are going up, we feel this is bad. In reality the risks are going down. The opposite is true when stocks are rising. 

This was true in 1929 and will still be true in 2029. True in 1974, will be true in 2074. 

In case I am all wrong. Keep a few cartons of Marlboros and some bottles of Jack Daniels in your basement. I think I have about four of each. When the social order completely breaks down, when the gas pumps are dry and the shelves are bare at Food Lion, these two things will always have value and can be exchanged for passage across the border into Canada or Mexico. 

Life on the Eights

 Last week I became 68 years old. Three score and eight. My grandaddy always said "I just want my three score and ten, like it says in the Bible" He got a lot more than that.

Anyway, looking back on the eights, here goes. Roughly as I told it to my kids and their kids after blowing out 68 candles (true). 

When I was eight it was 1964. I lived in Pensacola.  3rd grade. Had a younger brother who was almost six, and a new baby brother. I think my dreams/plans in life were vaguely to 1) be a good Christian 2) Have a good family 3)Not be poor 4)Be somebody. 5) Play for the New York Yankees. Simple difficult goals. 

When I was 18 it was 1974 and I had graduated from HS and moved to St. Petersburg Florida. Sacked groceries at Publix in the Northeast Shopping Center. Started college in early 75. 

From 74-84 I sold Kirby vacuum cleaners door to door. Sold Bibles and kids books door to door. Sacked groceries. Ran a gas station at night. Maintenance crew and dining room crew in college. Landscaping. Day Camp Counselor. Sold Iinsurance. Sold Investments. 

In 1984 I was 28 and one of the toughest periods of my life, thus far, was over. The Dark Years were past. I had written my last hot check. There was a little money in the bank and I owned my first house. Finally found something I could do, which was investment stuff. Started by selling it, later managed it. I was married and my oldest child was four. This was the year I paid off my $2000 student loan, $30 at a time. Doesn't seem like much until you're three months behind and the college is getting ready to turn you over to a collection agency. I was very involved in numerous political campaigns. 

In 1994 I was 38 and lived in St. Louis. My wife Robin and I now have three children. Daughter 14, son 8, daughter 2. A good happy time. My maternal grandparents and my parents were still alive. I had earned a difficult professional designation and had some letters after my name on my business card. Since 1984 a man I knew had been elected President and I had been a delegate to the national convention of our shared political party. Robin and I went to a Christmas party at the White House.  Around this time I stopped my political stuff and focused on family and career. The Soviet Union, that nemesis that had me scurrying under my desk in grammar school, was no more

In 2004 I was 48 and lived in Minneapolis. Career events I did not anticipate sent me north. It was wonderful, eventually. By this time my grandparents and my father had died. My oldest daughter was in Law School. my son was in college and my youngest daughter was in middle school. I was traveling a lot for work and for a professional organization of the investment world. 

In 2014 I was 58 and lived outside Minneapolis, on a lake and thinking about retirement. My son was married and I was a grandfather. My youngest brother had just finished year one of a five year war against cancer. 

In 2024 I am 68. My three children are all happily married. I have 5 grandchildren. I am even more happily married than my children for I have been able to convince a wonderful woman to stay with me for 45 years!!! I have joined the Catholic Church. I am retired. I play the banjo. My youngest brother has died of cancer (One might say the cancer beat him. Welcomed into the glory of his heavenly Father, I doubt he would put it that way.) As I write this I am canning green beans from my garden. 

Walmartian Astrology

 I like Walmart. Great selection at very good prices. Especially their honey cured hams. Amazing. 

In many cases the goods are made in places where the cost of materials and labor is less than in my home state. Good for me, good for my fellow Minnesotans, and most importantly, good for Walmart shareholders. Win Win Win. 

But, every once in a while they get weird. 

Today I was enrolling in WalMart Pharmacy. I didn't want to  but it was the only way to check a price. 

They wanted to confirm my identity. They asked me questions about my life. First, "Which of these cities did you live in?" Second "Which of these companies did you work for?" 

Quiet now children....Third "Which of these is your zodiac sign?" What is going on here? Walmart promoting astrology? Not likely. But weird nonetheless. Most likely the person who came up with the questions is in a cubicle in Rogers, AR just trying to come up with one more unique question before heading over to Captain D's for supper.  

I didn't answer it, but they still let me in. Too late. I found their feedback form and in the 100 characters I was alloted I manage to ask them to stop doing this. I bet they do.  

Independence Days Remembered Part II

In looking back over the years the thing that stands out from my youth is the absence of big fireworks displays. Growing up in Florida I do not recall ever going to a big fireworks event ever. That was something we saw on TV, but never in person. It's not that we didn't go, it just didn't happen. There were plenty of sparklers and firecrackers, cherry bombs and M80s, buzzing things and flying things, things that exploded and things that soared. But none of the really big stuff. 

Thus, I have no big kid memories of the 4th. Except for the time that Bill Leap and I soaked a bunch of cattails in gasoline and lit them as torches. I was about 13 or so. We soaked them for a week and they made a nice display in his back yard. 

Others. As an adult around 1982 I helped fire off the big stuff for the Pine Bluff Arkansas Jaycees event. It was fun launching them and seeing the fear and excitement on the face of my toddler daughter. 

Mid 90s. Richmond Virginia, with friends. One of the kids got sick, I recall. 

Mid 90's St. Louis. Watching at eye level from a conference room in the Boatmen's Bank building with colleagues and our families. 

2005 Approx. Lake Minnetonka. Excelsior Minnesota. Nice display and I remember the traffic and parking being not near as bad as expected. 

2010 I was in Buenos Aires on July 4th. Odd to be somewhere when this is just another day. 

2022 I better be able to remember last year's. Watched a nice display sitting in the back of my now gone Ford F150 with my wife. Parking lot of target store in Waconia, MN. 

Note: As I was writing this I recalled writing a similar post in the past. Here it is. https://midnightdiner.blogspot.com/2011/07/independence-days-remembered.html

Random thoughts on Covid

 I have nothing to add to the debate about whether folks should get vaccinated. This post is mainly for posterity, maybe my great-great-grandkids will read about it and use this post in a school assignment on early 21st century American history. 

I have relatives in the current hotspots of Arkansas and Missouri. I lived about ten years in both states and have an understanding of the mindset that makes people detest being told what to do, for whatever reason. I understand the mistrust of government. It is an easy path for elected officials to make this an issue of personal responsibility and choice. 

But those who oppose vaccines don't mistrust the government in all things. They trust the USDA that the meat they eat is safe. They trust the FDA that aspirin is safe for a headache. They trust the NTSB when they investigate a plane crash. When the National Weather Service says a tornado is likely in their area, they trust that information, even if it later proves incorrect. If they have a legal dispute most take it to the court system, believing there is a good chance that if they are right they will prevail. In all of these situations we are trusting government scientists and government legal experts in matters we know little about. 

But there is something about the nature of this particular vaccine that they feel so strongly that some are willing to take a chance and skip it. That is their choice, that is how we have set this thing up. They repeat that cry of rebellion that we all shouted in our childhood, "I don't want to do it and you can't make me!" Some times that rebellion is right, but in this case it just seems foolish. What is gained?

We all know that government does make us do things. That is what governments do. In the most extreme example, in wartime the government makes men fight and sometimes die to preserve the government. It is not matter of choice, they have to. And they do it. 

The government makes me stop at red lights. It is not a matter of choice. It makes me pay for goods before removing them from a store. It makes me wear clothing in public. It makes me pay taxes even if the money is used for things I don't approve of, a law that bugs all of us at some point. It makes me feed and clothe my children. Why? Because the public good takes priority in these matters over my personal preferences. It doesn't matter what I want to do, the government says I have to. By and large these are good common sense rules that enable us to live together somewhat peaceably. They are also rules that we have agreed to by majority rule, an idea that we don't talk about much any more. 

The government is content to do whatever it can to persuade. Bit by bit that seems to be helping the stragglers, but it won't get all. There won't be a mandate, but as my Dad used to say, "Son, I can't make you do that, but I can sure make you wish you had". 

Life is going to get much harder for those who refuse to vaccinate. It is going to become more and more inconvenient. Airlines, stores, restaurants, and other places where people gather in tight spaces will act. There will be mandates. They will be specific, not general. 

And they will wish they had. 

One good thing from this virus stuff

Perhaps when this is all over with guys will discard hugging, as quickly as they seemed to adopt it.
Or is this a Minnesota thing?

When I lived in Arkansas in the mid-80s, men shook hands, boys high-fived. Normal greetings.

When I lived in Missouri in the mid-80s to early 2000s, men shook hands. McGwire and Sosa made variations of the fist bump or fore arm bump acceptable in certain settings.

By 2003 or 4, around the time we moved to Minnesota, men were hugging. It's always been ok in times of extreme emotions, such as a wedding or a funeral. But for the past twenty years or so, men have been hugging as a normal standard greeting. You stick out a hand to shake, and some will say, "come on bud, gimme a bro hug". Yes, I'm about as likely to do that as give you some of Tinkerbelle's pixie dust, a silver chair from Narnia, or a piece of cake from Wonderland.

It's odd and very much out of character for most of us. Which explains why it never made it into the business world. Not the real one. Same with politics and the arts. Toby Keith hugs, Merle Haggard shakes hands. Kennedy and Nixon shook hands. Bernie Sanders and Jeb Bush offer hugs. Hank Paulson and Warren Buffet shake hands. Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos seem more the hugging types.

Anyway, the strong handshake from a strong hand is always welcome, whether during virus time, Christmas time, or any other time.

Winter wanes

It is mid Feb now and spring is still weeks away. Yet, there is a sense here that the most brutal days of winter have passed on. A few weeks ago, on a day when the high was -4, Mr Winter came as deep into our lives as this cycle of the sun would allow. Now when we spot him, as during yesterdays snow, he has his back to us, heading North, temporarily defeated.

We saw a bald eagle yesterday, near where this photo was taken. I was in my 30s before I saw my first one, while trout fishing in North Arkansas. This winter they have been a weekly sight.

Fish On

There is something about fishing that puts all the other cares of life to rest. A day of fishing is a bit like an afternoon at the ballpark. No matter what you have going on, it is easy to get lost in the moment and focus solely on now. That's the way it was last Thursday morning in Heber Springs, Arkansas.

Caroline and I did not catch any huge trout, but we caught a lot of them. On Arkansas' Little Red River at the Red River Trout Dock . We fished from around 730 to 1130, with our guide, Roy. She caught 22, I got 11. She was 2-1 on me all day and cast a line as she was born to do. Like riding a bike, once you learn how to cast you never really forget it.

This was a good ending of a week long trip of visiting family and wrapping up a first year of college. A great way to kick off the summer. An even better way for a father and daughter, who rarely get to do things together, to spend a day forgetting about everthing else that is swirling around them. For a few hours there were no texts, no emails, no clocks, no phone calls from parents or clients, no posting to facebook, no deadlines. Just a couple of rods, a boat and a cool slow river inching its way across the belly of a beautiful piece of ground.

Top Five Hikes

Hiking in the Black Hills of SD this past weekend caused me to think about the best hikes of my life. Here are the top five.
1) Pinnacle Mountain - Pulaski County, Arkansas. Not the most scenic but the hike I've done the most with my family. A store of good memories.
2) Sunday Gulch - Black Hills, near Lake Sylvan. Fresh in my mind, hard not to put it on the list.
3) Blue Mountains - Katoomba, NSW, Australia. Echo Point, near the Three Sisters formation. Like being in another country. (I know this sounds pretentious but its my one and only hike outside the US and really is beautiful)
4) Carver's Gap - Roan Mountain, Tennessee. You can just bury me here.
5) Crabtree Falls - near Steele's Tavern, Virginia

Other great ones that my wife says are not hikes because they don't go up and down... Exit Glacier in Seward Alaska, The Grand Canyon - south Rim, Central Park to Times Square, the refrigerator to the couch, Mackinac Island loop.

Independence Days Remembered

The thing is, they're not. Remembered. There are only a handful that I clearly remember. July 4, 1976, 1981, 1982, 2010.


In 1976 most people were doing something really big, it was the bicentennial. I was stuck in Strafford, Missouri with the family of my on again - off again girlfriend. We heard some politicians, pastors, soldiers and other civic leaders speak. Somewhere I still have the program. I remember thinking, "what am I doing here?".

1981 and 1982 I remember because I helped shoot the fireworks for the city of Pine Bluff, Arkansas (another "what am I doing here" experience) I was a new dad. Both years our daughter, a toddler, cried at the sounds. By the second year she was 18 months old and enjoyed looking up in the sky. I was in the Jaycees and we sponsored the fireworks. Not a lot of regulation back in them days. Just a dozen guys standing in a field by the convention center, drinking beer and launching coffee cans of chemicals high into the air. The fire chief did come by to check on us, if I remember right.

Last year I was in Buenos Aires on the 4th. The only reason I remember it is because it was last year and it was the first time I was not in America on Independence Day. Went to a great restaurant, Las Lilas. That was about it. It was just another day in Argentina. In another ten years I will have completely forgotten about it because absolutely nothing special happened that day.

There were of course others but they all run together. The ones near our neighborhood in St. Louis. The ones here in Minnesota. Good times with family and friends that run togther to form one big Independence day memory.

I still miss 'em

In the fall of 1968, just after I turned 12, I had my first cigarette. Behind the gym at Everitt Junior High School in Panama City Florida. Actually it was my second if you count the lit butt I found on the sidewalk outside our house in Chicago in 1962, I was six and took one puff. I guess that doesn't really count.

Anyway, the junior high event started me on this love/hate relationship with cigarettes that continued off and on through high school. In college it was more off than on as I took up running and would quit for months at a time while I took in the new passion for pounding the streets. I started again with the onset of my first real job after college, management trainee with JCPenney in Little Rock, Arkansas and continued through engagement to my wife, marriage, the birth of our first child. All of these were major life events that caused me to swear off cigarettes, but that only lasted a day or two.

October 15, 1983 was the day of the Texas/Arkansas football game. In the days of the old Southwest Conference this was one of the most important events of the year for Arkansans, whether one was a big sports fan or not. We lived in a place the locals referred to as Pine Bluff, Arkansas, a bedroom community of Little Rock. Although I grew up with my dad's affinity for Texas football it didn't run very deep and the passion of my adopted state for the Razorbacks was infectious.

On the morning of the game I thought again about the need to quit the habit and wondered how I could make it through the weekend without lighting up. I thought through the weekend as a series of time compartments. I got this sense that if I could just make it past the game I could probably make it through the whole day. That doesn't make a whole lot of sense but it did at the time. My oldest daughter was almost three and I asked her if she would go running with me before the game started. This would get me through the first time slot. We went outside and for about 30 minutes chased each other around a long block that circled a nearby church. The trot was enough to remind me of how much I loved running and how the tobacco was wearing on my lungs.

When we got back to our little apartment I was determined to at least make it to halftime. Made it. Third quarter, made it. Fourth quarter, game over. Razorbacks badly beaten, 30 something to 3. I had made it and on through the rest of the day. Sunday morning, once I made it past the church service, the rest of the day was not quite as hard. Monday, Tuesday, easier. That was over 25 years ago.

I still miss 'em. While giving up the habit has saved me over $66,000 (2 packs a day @ 3.50 average per pack for 26 years) there are still times when I would love to sit on the porch with a cup of coffee, the newspaper, a pack of Salems, and a couple of fellow smokers. If I thought I could get away with it and not start the habit again, I would. I'm not that strong. That physical sensation that came from quenching the nicotine craving with a freshly lit cigarette was really something. Especially after a good meal. You know what I mean.

Occasionally I will pass the smokers outside my office and remember my old habit. When I quit, smoking was still common in office buildings. I never had to go outside. Never had to take a break from work to light up. I smoked on buses and on airplanes. In my house, in my car, with my little girl on my lap.

I now pass these folk as they huddle outside my office building and sometimes remember that I was one of them, though the memory is fading. When I am traveling out of the country and can pick up a carton of cheap cigarettes, I do, and then give them away. Can't pass up that bargain. In the winter I will shake my head and quickly walk by them, thinking about how weak they are, not strong like me to kick the habit. But i'm not as strong as I think. I have other habits that have taken the place of that one.

Every once in a while I will see them chatting, laughing, sharing some joke, or a problem, getting acquainted, sharing a light, cursing their habit in the bitter cold, cursing the political correctness that forces them outside, and I will envy them. I will forget all the bad things about smoking, all the money I wasted and how smokers are forced to plan their days, friends, work and life in general around the habit. I see them and ponder if I would be tough enough to be in their ranks today, especially when the temp outside is double digits below zero. I am glad that they are still there and I hope they continue to thumb their noses, or ashes, at those who force them into alleys and corridors. There are a lot of bad habits in this world that lead to a hoard of pain and suffering. Gluttony, drunkedness, greed, and the like. In the big scheme of things this one is hardly worth noticing.

Hey man, I can still slap open a zippo with the snap of my fingers and light a match with a nick of the thumbnail. I miss 'em.