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Am I getting rich slower, or accruing poverty faster? (I have no idea what "tongue in cheek" means, except we always made our cheek bulge out to try to convince Mama we had the mumps and should not go to school)
This wild fluctuation in precious metals has me falling on my brass trying to figure how much unrealized Depreciation I have gained by not having my e scrap ready for sale two weeks ago.
I know, I know, I should be spending this time at 4 am sorting circuit boards instead of worrying about how much money that I didn't have and didn't lose in the last two weeks or how much I actually gained by holding my e-scrap since 2021.
I think Kenny Rogers (The Gambler) had it right when he said, "don't worry about the money when you are sitting at the table. There will be time enough for counting when the dealing is done."
My fiscal orientation was fully formed by the age four. We lived in a valley outside Knoxville Tn, bordered by the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. In the early 1950's, electricity had not yet been brought in by the buckets full to fill up the big pots hanging from the newly installed poles with wires stretched along the side of the road. Finally, they must have turned on the tap, because a little light leaked from the bare bulb hanging from a wire in the kitchen.
Most of the men in our community who wanted to work had a job at Alcoa aluminum plant 30 miles away by the road. There was a short cut where the adventuresome could get off the work bus at Montvale and walk the two miles over Chilhowee Mountain to Happy Valley, in less time than it took the free work bus to go the distance by the river road.
The men would gather at the forks in the road in front of our house, and smoke, chew tobacco and talk while waiting for the bus, since most of them worked the second, or Two-to-Ten shift.
My Uncle Paul was one of the "jokers" who waited their ride. He would see a wide-eyed bashful four year old staring at the men, as in the country, nothing much ever happened unless a car came up the dirt road, but since few people lived in the area, and most of them had no automobile, it was a rare sight to see a car.
Uncle Paul would hold out his palm showing a shiny nickel and invite me to come get it. In my four year old mind, that represented great wealth. There was a "rolling store" whose route brought it thru our valley every few weeks, and a nickel would buy more candy than a childs cupped hands could hold. The avarice in my soul was fueled by store bought sweetness...I don't recall really liking sorghum syrup, or molasses as we called it.
So I would timidly approach the outstretched hand, and of course, Uncle Paul would have a novelty rubber frog or lizard sitting on his arm guarding the coin. When I reached for the coin, he would squeeze the air bulb and make the rubber amphibian leap. I wasn't yet old enough to know of the exploits of Davy Crockett and how he "kilt a bar when he was only 3" so I fled from the terrible little creature that jumped at me. That was my introduction to social conditioning resulting in wealth avoidance.
The second instance was soon after. The rolling store stopped in front of the house. Mama gave me a 50 cent coin, and in my hurry to get to the candy mine on wheels, I jumped off the porch instead of using the steps. I tumbled and rolled, losing the fortune I was holding so tightly.
That coin was never seen again by me. There was a whole yard full of children, and I wonder did one of them find it before I stopped crying over my tumble?
So, if lesson # 1 was run from money, lesson two was either don't cling to your wealth too tightly, or was it you can't lose it if you never had it in the first place, or a simpl er, when money is involved don't take risky shortcuts.
These early episodes set the tone for my working life. When opportunity knocked, I made sure the door was firmly locked and barred from my side.
Most of the time, I managed to hide out from opportunity, but once it almost caught me. I was acquainted with a young lady who worked for well connected businessmen at the Capitol building in Atlanta. When I met her boss, he wanted me to do a couple of minor home repairs, replace a door or something simple. I agreed, and thought I was over charging him by asking 20 bucks, which was the local equivalent of 3 hours wages for a twenty minute job.
He pressed $200 in my hand, and told me, Stay here in Atlanta and do this type work and I'll make you a millionaire in less than a year.
Ha. I'm a mountain boy. Ain't nobody gonna threaten me with money.
I quickly hightailed it back to the safety of the mountains, where I was safe from liquidity. My reasoning was, you have to pump twice as hard to keep a leaky balloon inflated.
On a more up to date note, I keep getting turned down as a poor credit risk, which I can't understand. My credit record is perfect. I still owe the first dollar I ever borrowed. Now if that isn't reliable financial responsibility, I don't know what is.
So, I still don't know if I lost money or made money, since I still have the load of e-scrap which I didn't sell in the last month.
On paper, I am still calculating. It is worth more than double what its value was when I acquired it four years ago. I'm not too concerned about losing my 50 cents as I am now too old to jump off porches, and I don't have enough fortune to bury in mason jars in the yard. I have accepted one fact of existence. In Davy World, if you have 3 cents, a Nehi grape soda costs a nickel, and if you have a nickel, an RC Cola costs a dime.
The important thing is to keep the lifeblood of commerce flowing