My New Best Friend

By Jim Hagarty

I own a bunch of shares in a company on the stock exchange.

I just checked the price. It’s down two cents.

When I first started managing my own investments using the Internet, two cents would make me shiver. Ten cents would make me shake. Twenty cents would start me howling.

SELL. SELL. SELL.

Of course, sell. The only thing to do. Lose $400 or $700. I was lucky to get out so easily.

Two hours later, the stock would be up 18 cents.

Holy Crap!

I used to say Holy Crap a lot, in the beginning.

This went on for a few years. I’d make $1,000, lose $800, make $300.

Then I got so frustrated, I would quit. For a month.

Finally, I got researching quotes by Warren Buffett about investing. If you want to know how to shoot a hockey puck, forget about your brother-in-law who hasn’t been on skates in 40 years. Hang around Wayne Gretzky or Sidney Crosby for a while.

Anyone who has made $60 billion through investing must know a thing or two, I surmised.

For once, I surmised correctly.

Buffett lays it all out there for anyone and everyone to see.

He was asked one time whether or not it bothered him to give away all his secrets. Did he not feel threatened that he would have too much competition if he shared what he knew so freely?

He just laughed and said he wasn’t worried at all. Because most people wouldn’t follow his advice anyway.

Having been “buffetted” by the rise and fall of the market, I was ready for his advice and I follow it as well as I can today.

God I love that guy.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.