How to make my brain bigger

I took a class in finance via Coursera a few months ago.  Why?  Because I thought that learning something about what my boss knows very well and deals with all the time would help me do my job a little better.  And because learning stuff for free on the internet?  Totes awesome!

My class was taught by Gautam Kaul of the University of Michigan.  Yep, I was an "enrolled" student at the University of Michigan for a semester!  And (ahem) Princeton for my world history class.

Here's the course description:  This course is primarily devoted to the fundamental principles of valuation. We will learn and apply the concepts of time value of money and risk to understand the major determinants of value creation. We will use both theory and real world examples to demonstrate how to value any asset. 

I loved that class.  And worked my butt off.  I found myself repeatedly saying something I do not actually ever remember saying while I going to University of Maryland on my father's dime: I'd really love to, but I can't -- I have homework to do.  I skipped fun stuff to do finance problems sets (and later to write history papers); I chose watching videos of Professor Kaul and his electronic whiteboard over watching sit-coms or reading; and I pounded ideas about present value and future value into my head*.

It was really fun (no, really, it was) and it made my brain a little bigger.  There's still lots of room for brain expansion so I'm going to take some more courses.

Introduction to Finance taught me the following:

1.  The world runs on algebra;****

2.  Finance is algebra with dollar signs;

3.  Finance includes statistics;

4.  Statistics for finance is algebra with dollar signs in Greek.

Oh, and ...

5.  Net present value.

All the rest was commentary.


* To wit:  money now is always better than money later; compounding is the strongest force in the universe after duct tape**; and how to calculate payments versus total cost.***  

**Okay, I actually already knew that one.

***Which means that I will never be at the mercy of a salesman's calculations about what something will cost me.  I can figure it out on my own!!

****As a collateral benefit, I now understand Algebra better than when I was actually taking it in high school.  Sort of the way that taking French greatly improved my knowledge of English grammar.

Just doing my bit to lower the product cost

Or, as I think of it, being filled with virtue.  And absinthe.




Over the past few years I've developed a fondness for cocktails, like, f'instance, the Wild Irish Rose that I had at Arena Stage when I went to see Ah, Wilderness! which is Irish whiskey and grenadine with a splash of lime juice and topped off with club soda.  And very, very yummy.*


My friends are patient with me and generally treat my fondness for antique beverages the way they do my fondness for referring to the clothes under my clothes as "underpinnings."***


But an article in the March 26 edition of Time magazine**** about mixing Victorian-era cocktails with molecular gastronomy caught my eye with this:

For all the suspenders-wearing, Bettie Page worshipping, retro-countercultural aspects of these bars, the cocktail renaissance was started not by a whiskered young idealist but by cost-conscious industry tycoons:  the late Joseph Baum and his partner Michael Whiteman, who created some of the world’s top-grossing restaurants (including Windows on the World) and took fast food courts to Europe and Japan. In 1985, when they were mulling the relaunch of the legendary Rainbow Room, they started looking into 19th and early 20th century drinks, in part because they knew the modern value of a good cocktaiL “It makes a festive beginning for the guest and for the owner carries a product cost of between 15% and 18% [of the menu price] with close to zippo labor cost,” Whiteman says. “This compares with food that typically has a product cost of around 27% to 33% and labor cost of another 30% to 35%." While you may need only one bartender, the kitchen has to have an army of dishwashers, busboys servers and cooks. “A really good cocktail,” Whiteman says, “will marry well with a restaurant’s first courses so people will order a second rather than automatically shifting to lower-margin wines.”  Those kinds of calculations help explain why most good restaurants have a bar—and why many of them work up a bar menu just to feed drinkers and dawdlers. 

I certainly realized that all the fun libations were not suddenly all over menus just to please me (they could please me more simply by not adding flour to dishes I could otherwise order...) and I certainly knew that the mark up on booze is never far from the owner's thoughts, but I didn't realize exactly how much I was helping the bottom line by asking for a Side Car.  




* Of course, when I'm part of a group and want to order something that requires no explanation, my go-to drinks remain Scotch (or whiskey) up with rocks on the side; gin & tonic; a Tom Collins; a Martini; or a Shirley Temple.**


** No, not all in the same evening.  Of course not.  Don't be silly.


****I would link to the article, especially as it has a video of a rather steampunk device (a "balancier") that makes "teeter-totter tea," but their website is a pain and a half, so no.


**** And I was rather touched to see that Eddie Bauer had named their new line of sheer tops "underpinnings."*****


**** Yes, of course, I bought some.  Darn cute they are.

I like to look

Tess Vigeland* hosts my favorite radio show about personal finance** and over the past couple of years if there is one thing that she has said more than once it's that during volatile times like these we should just throw the investment statements in a drawer, unopened.  "Don't look!"

(Hmmm.  Maybe there should be more exclamation marks in that because Tess always sounds very emphatic when giving this particular piece of advice.)

I respect Tess immensely and enjoy her reporting but I have to say:  I like to look.

In fact, I look every week.  On Monday morning, as a matter of fact.  I've kept a series of Excel spreadsheets (one per year) for the past ten years.  The data?  The balance of my 401(k).  The purpose?  I do better with feedback.  When watching my weight, I get on the scale.  When I was digging my way out of debt, I paid lots of attention to my bank balance and those debts with my lists and graphs and calculations***.  If I could figure out how to as quickly and easily quantify how many lines of dialogue I know versus how many I need to know, I'd do that, too.  And probably learn the darn lines faster.****

I know that sometimes the news will be good and sometimes it will be ... less good ... but locking in losses when the numbers are down remains a poor idea.  So I look.  And I chart.  And I leave my 401(k) alone.  Every few years I rebalance but not during a volatile period.  And I look.  And I chart. And I make jokes about which brand of cat food Pekoe and I will be sharing during my golden years.

Oddly enough, I started doing this charting three months before 9/11 so if you look to the left you can see the  10 percent drop in my balance after that awful day.  It was a scary drop at the time but the balance recovered in a few weeks and compared to 2008 it can't even be seen.  From May of '08 to March of '09 I lost 40 percent of the then current balance.  Right now I'm down 8 percent from just before the whole Debt Deal mess.  But the numbers on the right are still higher than the numbers on the left. Up and down, up and down, but generally up.  Looking has taught me to take the long view.  I'm saving for the future, not for this morning's balance.

As I like to say, if I look out of the window during the winter and see that it is snowing, I don't throw away my summer clothes.  So I look.  And I graph.

I like to look.


*It's pronounced Vigg-land even though it looks like Vie-gland.  Sort of like it's pronounced Lee-tah even though it looks like Lett-uh.  Those who can pronounce us can't spell us and vice versa ...


** Okay, there's not a large sample, I realize.  Not the point. The show is awesome, as is Tess.


*** And lines and circles and a few paragraphs on the back.  


**** When a friend was in labor and said that she wanted to go to the midwife's office to find out how dilated she was because she "needed to know the numbers" it made perfect sense to me.  Of course, if it hadn't made perfect sense to us, then her husband, mother, and I might have recognized this for the class transition phase thinking it actually was.  S'okay.  We got to the hospital with several minutes to spare. What?

Doing what I thought I would

I love money. I love everything about it. I bought some pretty good stuff. Got me a $300 pair of socks. Got a fur sink. An electric dog polisher. A gasoline powered turtleneck sweater. And, of course, I bought some dumb stuff, too.

---  Steve Martin

My mother passed away a few months ago and left me some money.  I didn't expect this because when she died, I was scheduled to meet with the finance people where she lived in a few weeks and get the ball rolling to sign her up for Medicaid.

We'd have conversations, Mom and I, where she would fret about having nothing left to leave me and my nieces.  And no matter how I answered ("You don't have to leave us anything.  You raised me and have given me lots of good memories as well" or "We didn't earn the money, it should go to keep you comfortable." or "Don't worry, you *won't* have anything to leave us and that's really okay."*) she still fretted about it.  Which meant that even though I was in charge of her bank account (which was larger than mine) and received the statements for her (reasonably small) mutual fund, etc., Mom and I had trained me to think of her as inches away from destitute.  So I figured that when she died, she would be poor, I would pay for her funeral, even more stuff I have no room for would end up in my apartment, we would miss her, the end.

In addition to fretting about running out of money, Mom said many times that she didn't like living there and hoped that she wouldn't have to do it very long.  I can't say that I blame her because I can't think of anyone who has ever expressed a hope to spend their final years in a nursing home, no matter how nice it is.***  So in my heart of hearts, I guess I wasn't too surprised when she passed away in January.  I'm grateful that it was a relatively easy passing and not the scary and horrible one I'd feared for so long.

And in the end she got her wish.  She had something to leave us.  I got 50% of her estate and my two nieces got 25% each.  I was so prepared to left just mementos that my first response was nausea.  I was literally nauseated.  And then I was scared because I've seen how not very good with money I could be.

For years I would think off and on about what I would do a with a "windfall."  What if I won the lottery?  What if I found bags and bags of money?****  But, okay, let's assume some strings-free money, what would I do.  The fantasies always ended up having three elements:

1.  I'd get rid (finally) of my student loans.
2.  I'd buy a new car because the Protege which has served me so well is a little old lady now.  She's 12 which is, what, 96 in human years?  120?
3.  Fund my retirement.
4.  I'd give more more to charities I care about, especially theaters.
5.  Other.  Often other included stuff like pedicures or massages or a personal chef.  When I was thinking really huge sums of money than #1 was "move Mom out of the nursing home and get her in-home care."

But I always assumed in the way back of my mind that I manage to fritter the money away.  Theater tickets, meals with friends, impulse purchases, having the No Money for Leta fairies steal it in the night ...

Now that I've inherited Mom's savings and her annuities, though, I am rather proud that I'm doing what I hoped I would do.  My desire not to waste this final gift from my mother has meant that I am being more careful with it (I think) than I usually am.  The scorecard so far:

1.  The student loan monkey is off my back.  This is like having a hefty raise in pay.  Half of that money is going to savings, so it feels as though I've turned my loan debt into a dollar-cost-averaged savings plan.  That happened first.  The brunette you saw dancing in the streets?  That was me.  So, check.

2. I bought a shiny, new Jetta.  Sunroof.  Manual.  Elegant charcoal grey color.  And an Equality Maryland affinity license plate, so that's a few bucks that went where my mouth is.  Check.

3.  My (very attractive, how can there not be an extra fee for that?) new financial planner and I have already started deciding what's gonna go where so that I won't have to eat cat food when I'm older.  Check.

4.  Silver Spring Stage got a check from me.*****  So did several other theaters I like.  My favorite was when I walked up the lady running concessions at Forum Theater during intermission and when she said "May I help you?"  I said "Yes, you could give this check to the right person for me, please."  And she looked at it and "Oh my, yes!  Thank you!"  And it wasn't even that large of a check.  I felt like a patron of the arts for the rest of the evening.  Check and check.

5.  See the Steve Martin quote, supra.  Mainly I've bought some new clothes and picked up the check more often.  But even so.  Annnnnd, check.

One of the nice things about having some extra disposable income is that when I went to see a show at the Hub Theater and the nice lady selling tickets accidentally overcharged me (not by much, just a few bucks) I suggested that instead of going through the effort of cancelling my transaction and re-doing it, she just code the overage as a donation and send me a thank you letter (because I think I *will* be itemizing this year).  She was delighted to comply. And once again, I feel like a patron of the arts.

I could get used to this.  I really could.


*Multiple Sclerosis as severe as my mother had it is very expensive.  The "continuum of care community" where she lived for the last ten years of her life started out costing about $5,000 a month when she was living independently and having aids come in a few times a day and, when she had to move over to the nursing home section and having skilled nursing ended up costing $313 dollars a day.**  (For people who do math as well as I do $313 x 30 = $9,390 per month or $114,245 per year).  This was significantly more than her income.

**Of all the folks I have met with MS, I haven't seen anyone with a worse case than Mom's, so most people with MS diagnosis should not look at Mom as a pattern for their own futures.

***And, as nursing homes go, it was very nice.  But still depressing.

****Not that I buy lottery tickets, but fantasy doesn't require that.  And if I found bags and bags of money, I'd call the FBI.  I grew up in America. I watch TV.

*****The Stage is my theatrical home, so they got the biggest check.  By far.

Bread and Roses

A few months ago a friend was asked to sign a petition protesting the "sweetheart deal" that a local professional theater/venue had or might have in the future.  She asked me about it and I actually was able to frame a reply that didn't involve sarcastic swipes at the giant, tax-payer funded stadia we have around here:

Sorry that it's taken me so long to reply but I wanted to get past my knee-jerk "don't hurt the arts!" response.

I was actually in that space on Monday night because [Theater}, who uses the space, was doing a season preview.  I chatted for a bit with [their artistic director], and he told me that [Theater] splits their gate with [Venue]. 

Considering [Theater]'s normal show budget, [Venue] is not pulling in lots of dollars from them.  It's kind of win-win because 1) [Theater]gets the use of a nice black-box theater which seats about as many people as they sell tickets for; 2) [Venue] doesn't have to absolutely program there year-round; 3) Silver Spring's profile as an arts destination is raised a bit; 4) people who want to see good shows for cheap can do it in place where there are restaurants and parking.

[Theater]received two Helen Hayes awards (a big deal in local professional theater) for their work in that space and if they are allowed to continue to use it they will continue to bring value to the downtown area.  Theater goers are actually pretty good about spending money around the theater.  They meet for dinner, they go out for drinks after, etc.  The American Association of Community Theaters has something on their website describing the dollar multiplier provided by theaters.  [Real theaters, not movie houses.  :-) ]

And [Theater] isn't the only group that uses that space.  Back in January the Community Theater Festival Association hosted the One-Act Festival there.  I don't know the financial arrangement, but I do know that Association doesn't have much cash, so it may have been a similar split the gate deal.  Folks came in from around the state to perform at the festival, so hotel rooms, dinner tabs, and liquor tabs were run up around the area.  I, personally, stayed in my own home, it being near by, but I had lunch on my tech day at Egg-spectations, coffee on performance day from Panera, lunch at Panera, lunch the next day with a big group at McGinty's, etc.

Contrast that with the situation at [Other] Theater.  They are about $6 million in debt.  [Another] theater is going up for auction on Tuesday due to a $4 million debt.  The economy is bad all around but arts organizations are always hit hard by any penny pinching.  When police are being laid off, it's hard to justify grants for plays.  Theaters cannot pay their bills on ticket sales alone.  If we did, seeing any play would cost close to New York prices.  We depend on donations from audiences and grant money from local, state, and federal agencies. 

But we also provide a benefit, both monetary and artistic to the communities in which we reside.  Theater goers spend money.  Theaters provide the kind of story-telling that is our cultural heritage.  Participating in theater provides the kind of team-work and character development that we ascribe to sports.

I don't know how much of a "sweetheart deal" Montgomery County should give to [Venue]  but I know that Maryland lags behind Virginia in what we give to the arts.  If we want all bread and no roses, helping to put [Venue] out of business would be a step in that direction.

Dimes and Quarters

They walked up to the bar, uh, and, as you know, paid for a pitcher with dimes and quarters, uh, which is something that I mean you don't forget. You don't forget that. Five-fifty in dimes and quarters. That's a freakin' nightmare.

Now Henderson and McKinney, they didn't seem intoxificated* at all. They came in -- they just ordered a beer, took the pitcher with them back there into the pool room, and kept to themselves. Next thing I knew, probably a half hour later, they were kind of walking around -- no beer. And I remember thinking to myself that I'm not gonna ask them if they want another one, because obviously they just paid for a pitcher with dimes and quarters. I have a real good feeling they don't have any more money.

Matt Galloway in The Laramie Project

*Thanks to Patrick for the correction.

Matching donation

I got this e-mail this morning from our Human Resources Director:

I am sure you all are aware of the devastating earthquake that rocked Haiti last week and the growing need for resources needed by the Haitians to recover and rebuild. Many of you have responded by sending aid through your charity of choice, and [the company] will join you in that effort by matching your donations. If you have made a donation towards the Haiti recovery effort, please contact me. I will co-ordinate the Haiti Relief matching fund donation.

One of the many reasons I'm glad I work here. I've texted money to the Red Cross and now and I think I'll send a bit more to Doctors Without Borders for the immediate relief and Engineers Without Borders for the long-term recovery.

A Bright Side

When Mom moved to Very Assisted Living boxes and boxes of her papers came to me. I am packrat but Mom is even more of one.

The central part of my study has been filed with boxes for the past year and I'd frequently walk in there on a Saturday morning, fully intending to sort, ditch, file, and generally reduce the level of the worst Disney ride ever, Paper Mountain. I'd take one look at it, desultorily move a few items from one place to another, feel totally overwhelmed, and find something else to do. Often something really productive, like play FreeCell.

Well, with Mom running out of money, it's time to submit the paperwork for a "spend down." Mom paid a pretty steep "deposit" when she moved into the facility where she lives and now that she does not have the income to pay the $295 a day that it costs to live in VAL, they will help me organize spending down the deposit. When she runs through that and uses up all but $2,500 of her assets, they'll apply for Medi-whichever it is.

The people in the Finance office are very nice, but it turns out that they actually do need to see paperwork. Lots of paperwork. So I've been spending time in the study and because I have a goal - find X, find Y, find Z - I'm not being dissuaded by chaos and dispair.

So while it doesn't look like it to the average passer-by, the study is tidier and more organized. And I've been getting rid of things outside of the study as well.

Except for the fact that I know it's too much hope for, I'd say that maybe by the time that my nieces have to do this for me, I'll have broken the packrat habit.

For my birthday

Don't take to me Nello's for a very expensive dinner. Just buy me a shiny new Passat.* Or a shiny new Eos** and a used Jetta.


*Thunder Blue, manual, sunroof.

**Salsa Red, manual, don't forget the iPod cable-thing.

My kind of lease renewal

I moved into my apartment in August of 2007 and signed a lease agreeing to pay a rent of [large sum]. In August of 2008 my lease came up for renewal and I thought I'd be looking at a rent of [large sum + $100]. So I was pleased to get a letter from the management company saying that, as I am a valued tenant*, they would like to renew my lease at a rent of [large sum + $85]. Oh, how nice! I promptly signed it and turned it in.

A few months later the prices of everything were exploding, so we got a note informing us that rents would have to be raised to compensate, at which point my rent became [large sum + $85 + $35]. Well, less nice, but oh well.

In all the time that I have lived here the building has never been full, so as the time for my lease renewal approached and I steeled myself to see [large sum + ($85 + $35) + $100]** on the lease renewal letter, I decided to ask my Boss for some help.

Before he (for his sins) became my Boss, he was, among other things, an accountant and an investment banker. Now he is the CFO of a medium-sized*** engineering firm, so he knows a bit about markets and negotiations. I figured that he could give me some guidance on how to ask for certain concessions in exchange for the rent increase. Maybe one of the covered parking spaces ($30/month) at no charge or something.

But before he and I could sit down and map out a Rent Concession Strategy for Someone Who is Too Nice for Her Own Good, I got this year's lease renewal letter.

Dear Resident:

Due to the increasing costs of maintaining the community, it is necessary for your rental rate to increase effective 9/1/2009.

Uh-oh.

As required by Section 29-54 of the Montgomery County Landlord/Tenant Code and other applicable provisions**** of law, this letter is to provide you with sixty (60) days noticed of your rent increase. The voluntary rent guideline set by Montgomery County of 4.4%.

Uh-huh.

We look forward to your continued residency with [building name]. Below you will find your renewal lease options. Please mark your choice for renewal and return this form to the office by August 10, 2009.

___ Yes, I/we wish to renew my/our lease agreement for one year at the rental rate of $[exactly what I'm paying now], a 0.00% increase. You are currently renting at the rate of $[large sum + etc].

What? I re-read that paragraph.

___ Yes, I/we wish to renew my/our lease agreement for one year at the rental rate of $[exactly what I'm paying now], a 0.00% increase. You are currently renting at the rate of $[large sum + etc].

Yup, that's what it said. Moving on.

___ Yes, I/we wish to renew my/our lease agreement on a month to month basis at the rental rate of [large sum + ($85 + $35) + $100] a 6.49% increase. You are currently renting at the rate of [my current rent].

If you feel this is excessive, you may request the Montgomery County Department of Housing & Community Affairs to review this matter.

Etc.

Whoo-hoo. My Boss and I agreed that my best choice is to leave this sleeping dog slumbering happily in place, so I have signed that puppy pretty quick and will be dropping it off at the office at my first opportunity.


*Which I am assuming means that I pay my rent on time. But I don't discount that I am relatively clean, quiet, and cooperative. And they would really value me if they knew that I am typing this with the air conditioning off and the windows open. No point in using all that store-bought air when it's so nice out right now.

**Huh. Someone who didn't know me who read that might be lead to think that I am not as much of a math imcompetant as I sometimes am.

***Read that as "small-sized" if you represent the Small Business Administration, please.

****It actually says "provisiions," but let that pass. Let she who is without typo ...

Gulp

My 401(K) - or as a friend in an e-mail yesterday called it, his 201(K) and soon to be 01(K) - balance has been dropping in a sickening kind of way. For instance, I've lost $8,644.21 since Monday. This past Monday. Two days ago.

I'm down $34K and change since June. My little pile of "if cat food, at least name brand rather than store brand cat food" retirement savings is back to where it was in January of 2006. I've lost 33 months and yet don't feel any younger.

My Boss says $2 Trillion dollars has evaporated from domestic retirement accounts. Two Trillion.

One of our staffers is closing and emptying her 401(K) because she says she'd rather pay it in penalties and taxes than have it simply disappear on its own. And because, I suppose, she intends to put the sad remains under her mattress. (My investment club calls that Locking In the Loss.) No, I do not recommend this course of action.

So it's not too surprising that this clause from a kinda recent (September 29th) Time magazine article by Andy Serwer and Allan Sloan about Current Unpleasantness caught my eye:

While we're trying to get our heads around what amounts to the biggest debt transfer since money was created,...

Wrestling

Ahh, the dinner check.

David and I sort of take turns treating each other, although he picks up the check more often than I do and more often at better restaurants. This doesn't stop me when we are at, say, Panera and he asks if I'm buying him dinner from considering looking at the nice young lady behind the counter in a way to imply that he is some dissolute man-twinkie, whom I am constantly imposed upon to buy things for. That would be fun. I really should do that sometime.

And I have a friend with whom I have dinner every so often who picks up the check unless I can either beat him to it or make a good argument as to why I should be allowed to pay it.*

Larry was in town last week and we had dinner on his birthday. And you'd think that seeing how rapidly he's aging (he is seven months older than I am and is rejoicing in his ever more encroaching senescence), his reflexes would be going, but no, when the check came he got to it before I had finished recognizing that it had arrived. "But it's your birthday!" I protested and his answer was that yes, and I would be celebrating his birthday by allowing him to buy me dinner. I couldn't argue with this logic. (He, after all, teaches law and is very logical.)

But it all worked out. I had lunch a couple of days later with Exploding Dave, who was in town on assignment for a while** and when the check came, I hooked it with Larry-like efficiency. When Dave started to protest I told him that he should just consider this as me supporting the troops. He conceeded graciously.

I'm starting to think of this as the informal law of the conservation of dining out funds.


*The time that he was an hour and half late and every waiter in the restaurant felt sorry for me until he finally arrived and then smirked at him, that wouldn't have been a good occasion to reach for the check. I didn't even think about trying for that one.

**And must be doing a very good job and we have had no ordnance explode in Silver Spring while he was here

Scary, scary fact of the day

I heard on Morning Edition (or the Marketplace morning report...) that half of Americans have less than $50K in retirement savings.* A few years ago I read that the average 40-year-old woman has about $7K in retirement savings.

Pause for Implication Percolation.

I think I'll start investing in companies that make cheap cat food.


*I have more than that because I believe in my 401(k) possibly more than I believe in the three paragraphs of the Nicene Creed.

Riding the storm out

We're all clear on how much I like to graph my life on Excel spreadsheets, right?

Well, for the last several years I have been graphing my 401k balances. Every Monday morning I go to the website for the company that has my money, I check the balance, and I type that balance into my 401k spreadsheet. There's a little calculation that determines the difference between this Monday and the previous Monday and there's a little chart, so I can see my future cat-food and store-brand paper goods fund displayed visually.

(I don't play with the money, I just look at it and graph it. I re-balance my stocks/bonds/etc percentages every couple of years and pretty much just let it grow quietly; the same kind of benign neglect that I apply plants. This works even better for a 401k than it does for plants.)

The chart generally looks like a two-dimenional representation of one of the hikes that Mom used to do all time - a kind of ragged, but generally ascending, line. There are, of course, a couple of ha-has* - the first in September of 2001 and the second right now.

10 September 2001 was an average Monday and I entered the 401k balance. 17 September, of course, was not an average Monday, but the balance was only a few dollars off of the one for 10 September. The 24 September balance, on the other hand, was 8% lower than the 10 September balance. I guess everyone in America hit the malls after that because after taking on that bucket or two of water, the little dinghy righted itself and I had made back the losses by 8 October.

Right now the American stock market looks more like a graph of a teenager's moods. And the last couple of weeks have had an emphasis on black fingernail polish and songs by The Cure and Morrissey.**

I'm hearing on the radio that things are going to continue like this for a while. Which is very exciting for me because between 16 July and 13 August my account dropped 6%. And that's six percent of a lot more money than I had in 2001. Between 13 August and today, it has dropped an additional 3% from the 16 July balance. So I'm looking at my balance and doing what I did in 2001, which is scanning for some kind of "save" button, but there doesn't appear to be one.

But I shall be staunch. I shall stand firm and not fret. I still won't play around with my 401k. I'll let it get back on its own feet. This is not permanent, it's just something that happens occasionally.

And I'm going to repeat those helpful phrases as I check my balance on Monday through the fingers I'll be covering my eyes with.

* in the sense of a sunken fence or unexpected ditch. See Jane Austen's Mansfield Park.

**Yeah, yeah, okay, out of date references, I know. I'm old, let's move on.***

***But, really, was there ever - outside of "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" and the works of Chopin - music more suited to depression and self-pity than Morrissey or The Cure?

If you have to ask, you can afford it

One of those things that separates me from the top of the food chain here at work:

My boss* came out of his office earlier today and asked me if this is a pay week or not, a question I never have to ask another employee.


*2005, 2006, and 2007 co-nominee for Best Boss Ever, Who I'd Follow to a Foreign Country Where I Hate the Food Because He's Just That Good.

"20 Things you forgot to be thankful for"

I like Gilbert and Sullivan and so I have a "Google alert" that sweeps the internet for references to G&S. (I also have one for Silver Spring Stage and one for me. These last two have a lot less traffic than the one that looks for references to a couple of guys who've been dead for nearly 100 years, but who wrote some pretty faboo operettas.) And so even though I don't live in New England, I found this essay by Pat Cahill in my net in today's "catch."

The essay ran in the Springfield, Massachusetts Republican. My thanks to Pat for her permission to post it here.


Count your blessings

Sunday, November 19, 2006
By PAT CAHILL

Here are 20 things you forgot to be thankful for:

1. Taxes. They're the dues you pay for living in a democracy. Thanks to them, you don't have to worry about falling into the drink every time you drive across a bridge.

2. Stadium seating at the movies.

3. Red lights. Imagine the chaos without them.

4. Music. In Biblical times, you had to be a king like Saul to summon David and his harp. Today everyone has music at their command, whether AM, FM, CD, Ipod, elevator...

5. Winter. It makes summer feel so good.

6. Your body. You complain about it, puncture it, burn it, starve it, stuff it, scratch it, poison it with smokes and drinks, and it still keeps plugging away, doing the best it can right up to the end.

7. Swiffer.

8. Thanksgiving. It's one of the few things that make November worth living through, along with maybe the NFL and the annual Gilbert and Sullivan production in Amherst.

9. Taking your medicine. In the old days, you lived with your headaches - or turned to opium. And don't even try to imagine dentistry back then.

10. The Socialist Party. They advocated for the 40-hour work week, restrictions on child labor and the female vote back when those were crazy ideas. They remind us that even extreme views have value.

11. Long lines at the airport. You'd prefer maybe wrestling a gun from somebody at 40,000 feet?

12. Polyester. Check with any grandmother who used to iron her husband's shirts.

13. Capitalism. Without money as an incentive, who would have come up with airbags or scoopable cat litter?

14. Some of the things we should be thankful for have a flip side. Be thankful you can go to a pizzeria or ride a bus without worrying about being blown to smithereens by a bomb. That's what some people live with every day.

15. Do-it-yourself books.

16. Two parties and three branches of government. Sure, it makes change slow and frustrating. But despotism has its down side.

17. Advantage. People with animal companions shudder at memories of flea baths and flea bombs.

18. Meaningful work. Lucky are those who have it.

19. The dark-chocolate fad.

20. Aging. You probably don't want the other choice.

Lacing my sneakers again

In years past I have participated in the Multiple Sclerosis walk, an 8-mile jaunt down the C&O canal towpath. I raised, all told, probably about $2,500 to help fight a disease that has made my Mom's life much more difficult.

I won't give all the info on MS here (although you can find it here), but I think by now we all understand how debilitating MS can be. And in addition to Mom, my cousin Kathy, my friend Greykell, and others I know deal with the effects of MS everyday.

Mom and I used to do the walk together, back when that was still possible for her.

One year I did the walk the day after opening night of a show. I got up bright and early, did the walk, went home and put my feet up for a bit, then went to the theater and did the show in 3" heels.

And one year the walk was scheduled the same day as Maureen's wedding, so I arrived at the start at Great Falls at 8:00 AM, walked the 8 miles, met Les at the end point at Glen Echo at 10:15, changed in the ladies room into wedding guest wear, and Les and I sped off across two counties to be at Maureen's wedding by 11:00.

A few years ago, Stacey and some other friends formed Team Greykell and registered for the Big Walk - the MS Challenge 3-Day Walk. If there's one in your area, you've heard the ads on the radio: "3 Days, 50 Miles, Closer to a Cure." Here in 2006 they are still going strong and this year, I'm joining them. I can't do the whole walk, but I can volunteer for a day. I'm taking September 29th off of work and volunteering for Day 1 of the walk. Doing what, I don't yet know, but doing something.

And I'd like your support. Team Greykell has a fund-raising challenge and as a member of Team Greykell, I'm now part of that challenge. Mom has written a check and I contributed to Cate's share of the challenge before I decided to join the team, but the MS folks would like me to raise $1,500 (or, of course, more). If you can't send money, I'll happily accept good wishes. But money is always nice....

The Virtual Foundation

I got an e-mail from my theater friend Erika this morning that said:

This is a very interesting website, which shows hundreds of projects from around the world which need financial support. The projects all solve local problems of environment, human health, poverty alleviation or economic development and many projects need as little funding as a couple of thousand dollars. You are able to search by country or type of project and you can also see how much funding they need and how much they have already received. It's a great place to look if you or a group you belong to are looking for a way to make a difference somewhere.

With a link to The Virtual Foundation.

So I did some mousing around on their website and found out that many of the donors give in the amounts that I do - $10 here, $18 there. Then I wandered around the web and to see what I could find about their bona fides.

The Open Society Institute (George Soros’ organization) says:

History: The Virtual Foundation was created to develop and encourage online international philanthropy, to provide a new source of support for NGOs and civil society building activities, and to develop new NGO funding resources. Founded in 1996, the Virtual Foundation has demonstrated its feasibility, especially in the areas of environmental and health grant-giving. With an international network of Consortium Members and efficient and responsive administrative grant review structure, the Virtual Foundation presents an optimal opportunity to develop Internet philanthropy. There has been considerable enthusiasm and support for the Virtual Foundation in the NGO and private foundation communities.

The Internet Program is supporting the Virtual Foundation in its efforts to attract active donors to the Virtual Foundation website through a media campaign, employing both traditional and electronic media outreach efforts. The Internet Program grant will also be used to encourage first time Virtual Foundation donors through the use of matching funds.

Population Targeted: Private foundations, individual donors, NGOs, the Internet community in general.

Philanthropy News Digest says:

An online program that supports grassroots initiatives around the world. The foundation screens and posts small-scale proposals on its Web site, where they can be read by potential donors. It was founded in 1996 by ECOLOGIA, an international nonprofit organization that has supported environmental movements and groups across Eurasia since 1989.

Philanthropy News Digest also has links to other on-lines charities, if you'd like to direct your money closer to home or just check out a charity to make sure that your money is going for programs not perks.

Heads Up, NPR

The downside to Autumn would, of course, be that it is also pledge drive time at NPR. Technically, at NPR member stations.

I completely understand the need for the pledge drives and I contribute when and how I can. Not as often or as much as I should, but there are lots of good causes that don't get as much as I should give them (just ask Janice, the minister at my church). And I have friends who work for NPR and I think they should be paid their salaries. And I have a big, geeky crush on Scott Simon, so I definitely believe he should get paid. And Les told me that one of his favorite stations failed to meet their budgetary goals often enough and had to sell out. We don't want that to happen.

But.

I hate, hate, hate it when in order to push the guilt button I get called a thief and a mooch. So I have a rule. My standard donation - when I can - to my local NPR station is $20/year, but I deduct a dollar every time I am accused to stealing by tuning in without writing a check. This morning Nina Totenberg used the word "Freeloader" twice in one paragraph - so that's $2 fewer of my dollars going to NPR. Using this system, some years NPR ends up owing me money.

In order to save NPR some badly needed dollars, I often dive for the radio dial as soon as I hear anything that sounds like pledge drive patter (PDP). And I'll return a dollar to the pot if I hear a good argument (like how much it costs to carry the shows I like, or how small a percentage of the operating budget comes from the government).

I really do like the new protection racket approach to the pledge drive - "pay us now and if we get enough money we'll shave a day off of the pledge drive." Sort of "Nice radio station you have here. I'd hate to see anything happen to it." Brilliant. Works for me. I'll leave the cash in a dead tree in the cemetary, but please don't hurt Marketplace.

And I like pledging via the internet during one of my favorite shows, so I often pledge during Car Talk or A Prairie Home Companion. Especially as they make really fun arguments for pledging. And never call me a freeloader.

I may post how much money I ended up sending in this year, but, in the meantime, operators are standing by. Please pledge now.