Watch For Dust People: 5 Lines Of Defense.


“You don’t have to try to keep the tears back.

You couldn’t cry if you wanted to. You couldn’t cry if you wanted to.

Even your thoughts are dust.

Even your thoughts are dust.”

Lucinda Williams

The Dusters thrive among us.

In the misty whirlwind of false, trenchant phrases and gut-hemorrhaging head games you’ll be captured.

The haze created by the escape, their false feelings that conclude in emotional entrapment, will set the outer reaches of your soul ablaze like high velocity, ghost-pepper shots to the eyes.

The singed ends of nerves you never knew you had will explode in dry fire, like staccato firecrackers going off in a cloying sulfur-mist tethered by a humid summer sky.

The lies will choke off your oxygen.

Your capacity to think straight will evaporate.

You’ll feel yourself shrivel from the inside out.

shriveled man

Because you’re gagging on dry death. 

Helplessly falling into the cracks of the parched splintered arteries.

Ground into a foundation of splintered bones and pulverized hearts.

And you won’t. Even. Know. It.

By the time you get it, you’ll be dried out completely.

The hour, the minute, the month, the year you’re shaken from their lives.

As they move to the next dirt destination.

You’ll re-live each terrifying moment.

So you see.

Sadly, you must understand.

Fresh victims are plentiful.  Always close.  In the wings. Waiting to be dried and shaken while you’re stirred.

Before a Duster rolls down to a new pubic town (population YOU).

Before they release you to a wind that flows on apathy and stinks with the rot of deceit.

Another poor soul is near.


This group? Get to know who they are.

Society is overrun with them.

They feed on on others to build themselves. They fire up egos. Their own.

The Dusters.

Beware of them.

Let me show you the way.

Let me help you understand.

Allow me to help you avoid the dusters.


If you’re a victim?


dust people two

                  You’re gone already. 

It’s called an expiration date and it’s on your head right from the get go.

Random Thoughts:

Dusters don’t feel remorse. Apathy. Or anything.  The antics, every thought they possess, is based on an end game first. the grand exit. They re-live the escape plan. The goal for them is to leave with more than they entered your life with. Their timing is perfect.

Right from the start you are in a burning house with the door padlocked shut.

Dried meat. Turned into a jerk(y).

Oh who knows what keeps them around, sometimes for years.

I rattle this around in my head every day.

Good sex, a sympathetic ear, a travel bud, shared business contacts, an image boost, outright free stuff, a paycheck for nothing, a friendship controlled for personal gain.

Who knows?

The Dusters are indeed a diverse bunch. The breed is a non-partisan feeder.

They come from all walks of life.

Frankly, they represent an epidemic. One that’s going to be around a while because the ongoing deterioration into a Tinder culture demands it. And I fear it’s just begun.

I fear there are more of them than us, now.

So the odds are they will come for you, too.

You’re gonna get dusted.

It’s just a matter of time. The day you’re shaken, swept out to the dustbin of the past.

Once Dusters have gotten what they need from you or something/someone else to play with, you are dust (dead) to them.

And if  you’re stupid or unfortunate enough to fall in love with a Duster, you’ll ignore the signs because nobody can be that evil, right?


So. So. Wrong.

Dust storm #1– Dusters create grandiose exit-preparation stories. It’s a first assault. An initial test of your resolve. It’s an attack on your sanity. A Duster wants to gauge the power of your commitment to stick with them long enough to be damaged. Because you see, it’s not a conscious effort to hurt.

It’s a part of who they are.

So, let me ask – How much can you handle?

Duster victims are steadfast suckers.

Others are smart and flee quick.

Who are you?

stop stop

Dusters swirl words into flirty-dirty demons that revolve around and within you. It’s a tactic designed to confuse a victim before the slaughter.

Since Dusters don’t trust their own actions, naturally they can’t trust yours. In addition, they have not completely shaken the packed-on remnants of past particles (which is interesting) because they abhor how some of their victims have moved on to healthy relationships.

How dare they???


You can’t make Dusters feel bad because they can’t feel. Anything. People who can’t help them and those who have outlived their usefulness are swiftly discarded.

You’re an ash in a flash.

Their love is not permanent. Frankly, there’s no such thing as love (outside of self) for this cancerous spin-off of the species. Oh, they’ll say they love you, they’ll promise long term just to keep you in the storm, as they’re not quite done with your bloody carcass, yet.

It’s like that monster grizzly. You know – In the DiCaprio film “The Revenant.”

Just when you’re convinced he’s finished tearing out your neck, ripping open your back, dragging you like a puppy toy, THE BEAR RETURNS. THE MAULING RESUMES. NO MERCY.

Each lie, a claw to the face: They’ll be a friend forever (slash). They’re working for you (slash #2). They have your back (final gash). Actions prove different. Over and over again.

Love does not reside in their core. It’s not at home there. It dies before it’s able to breach the wall.

The warm fuzzies are icy-knife-ies.

The world is indeed their stage and you’re merely rolling across, stuck in it, used in it, then released from it.

dust world They’re comin’, they’re comin’!

Dust storm #2: Duster emotions are fleeting, float light on the breeze, subject to change in a blink. There’s nothing in the soul when it comes to feelings.

Remember – Duster’s are always on the move even when still, constantly searching for exits. Lusting for the water of another’s life because the newest victims are the juiciest!

It’s how they prosper. Duster victims are flesh commodities.

Dust a dozen.

There are so many choices, so many people they can dry out, it’s like a feeding frenzy.

“Harvest time, all the time,”is their motto.

And surprise!

Look who’s on the menu..

human menu

Dusters are ghosts, shells of humans with important stuff missing. People are nothing to them unless you have something they desire. When a Duster shakes you off, it’s done with rehearsed platitudes, false language of leaving they’ve recycled from the dusty remnants of other departures. They’ll even fool your relatives. Suck in the kids!

Dusters thrive deep in finances.  They’re the cuts you never do anything about. They’re stealth hits that keep on hitting. Recently, I received an e-mail for fees, an auto-renewal from a service it took me 3 hours to cancel.

Most would rather have their money turn to dust before they halt this auto-finance terrorism. Take a day. Stop all auto-payments. Gain control. I know consumers who have lost hundreds, thousands, robo-paying for services they never use because it’s easier to pay than to stop. Huh? No.

Dusters rarely say “I’m sorry,” or admit mistakes. And why should they? You should bow. Die noble in their grace. Just dust, bury yourself before they get to it. After all, they’re terrific. You’re the reason they’re fucked up, remember?

As a matter of fact they’ll make you feel wrong for being right.

Remember that line from the classic film “Love Story?”


Yea, it’s nothing like that.

Not at all.

Identify Dusters with 3 simple inquiries. No kidding. To kill a Duster you must be the Duster (not for long because that’s not you).

Keep it simple. The best deaths occur in plain sight. Every minute. Not even Kojak would be able to figure it out.


Keep sucking, buddy. You won’t catch me!

Tell me about your long-term friendships. Dusters have few close friendships to speak of. That’s not a bad thing on the surface. Loners can be cool. You just want to get a handle on the quality of the relationships. How a Duster defines them.

If you can’t adequately get a handle on why and how these friendships are maintained, step back. If there appears to be a pattern of breakage and it’s always the fault of others, well you know what to do, right?

Describe your last break-up in detail, please. Dusters are expert ghosters. They refuse to face a victim in person, or communicate verbally, on a forever departure. They conjure up lame-ass, re-hashed excuses through e-mail or other electronic channels. This query is your most insanity-driven dive into the Duster psyche. Stay strong. You’re going in deep.

Break-ups aren’t perfect. You’re not looking for clean, neat separations. You’re seeking to identify respect for a former partner in the throes of a heartbreaking life episode.

Dusters hold below-zero respect for people who love them, especially at goodbye time.

Remember, this is their heart, a life code: They want to slap-clap you off their tails. Like they would from their jeans after a long journey on a dirty mud-cut of ground.

Tell me about something, an incident, you’re sorry about. My personal favorite. You know why? Because Dusters are rarely sorry. About anything! After all, it’s never them. Be sensitive to a consistent string of “remorse code.”

Let me explain.

Remorse codes are strings of negative roads well traveled.The same circle patterns of mistakes. Ghost-like breakups, busted engagements, cheating. Could be they’re tough heartfelt lessons. Perhaps your Duster has vowed never to do this to you. Or maybe you’re delusional and the next stop on the heartbreak express.

Have you fooled yourself, convinced yourself that it’ll be different with you?

Question: Are you up for the risk?

Are you willing to take the chance?

Well, if you do.


_ _ . _ _ _ _.. … ._ _. . . _ ..

(Morse Code for Godspeed).

morse code

It’s not Morse Code, it’s Remorse Code. Silly.

Dusters feel guilt but it’s merely an odd form of self-flagellation. A seemingly strange internal coping mechanism. A futile effort to connect with what’s shoe-string left of their humanity (who am I kidding?). There’s a peculiar sadness that arises their victims move on. Re-hydrate.

The ones who escape really irritate them. So much so they can’t visit the ground zeroes, the towns, where these survivors survive.  They feel something odd – REMORSE. Well, only because the ones left behind made it through the pain parlor. Their happiness, their recovery is Kryptonite.

Go figure.

Dust storm #3: Dusters will lament to you about the love or friend who got away. How they’ve mourned. How bad they feel. Really? They don’t. Take it as a warning. A brief wet spot they sit in with us three-dimensional mortals. It’s a worm hole you must crawl through. Listen. Discover. Run!

Dusters relish the stories they create. With disparate mental fragments of dark plot-lines, they form a sick square-fits-in-a-hole puzzle designed to validate an exit strategy, a distrust, even a hatred of their prey.

Dusters believe all people are bad so they must strike.

Destroy them first. Always.

Dusters are narcissists who frolic with sharp blades yet never cut themselves. They are expert slicers, compart-mentalists, molders.  They’ll work diligently to galvanize fellow Dusters against you to protect their personal lack of accountability and courage.

I tested this theory recently. I placed my head on the chopping block. It’s in the bloody basket. Rotting. It turned out exactly as I figured it would.

They are steadfast cowards at intimate human interaction, connection, above all else.


Great movie from the 1980s: Basket Case.

It’s personally rewarding to discover people who are so damn good at Duster detection and deft at avoiding attacks from Dusters and their fuck-flunkies (not a dance move from the 1970s, or is it?).

I unfortunately, am not one of those special people, proficient in these skills.

Dusters will push, twist you into a different person. A human you’ll no longer recognize. The ultimate betrayal, the way they depart, the manner in which they leave frayed ends dangling like bloody entrails on a clothesline at a zombie laundry party, will drive you insane, out of your own skull.

You won’t recognize yourself. Your pets will avoid you. You smell different.

It’ll take time to return to the light, the living, the waters. The clear. The still.

Like a storm on the plains they’ll lift, carry, then drop you like a rag doll.

One day it’ll happen, you’ll look up. You’ll stop dragging what’s left of yourself across a gravel road and start all over.

You’ll be boarding the life train again. Sniff the spice off a summer breeze.

The light of day will no longer feel like night.

Oh, you’ve been there.

Sometimes it feels like exposed nerves are rubbing against broken and infected parts of my heart.

I wish Johnny Cash were still alive.

I would have loved to share my dust theory with him.

Would my thoughts be set to lyrical magic?

How would he take the words. Improve them?

Hmm, maybe this?


In this world.

As a new day bursts blue. Clear-on-clear.

They have their smoke eye on you.

For now.

I’ll wish you good thoughts.

I’ve walked there. I fear the footfalls.

And when the time arrives for you to be a target.

Or no longer play with the player.

Perhaps you’ll remember my words.

Heed the warnings.

Consider and respect my ongoing torment.

And dust the Dusters at their own dirty game.

I’m on your side.

Breathe in deep.

As deep can be.




Now you’re steady.



Dust free.

And a connect with the universe again.

Where it’s cool and clean.

And calm again.

dust free


Sidebar: The Dusters know who they are. They know this post is about them, don’t they?

They’re reading right now. In denial. Ready to strike. 

Listen. Learn:

Lucinda Williams’ Dust.

Writing is part of my healing process . A closure activity.

I hope ya’ll enjoyed this lil’ ditty.

Dedicated to my very clever friend – Tami Denny. 

10 Shots At A Life Worth Living From The Rifleman.

“Guns don’t make you strong, they make you hesitate and respect the value of human life.”

Lucas McCain

With a foundation in New York, now a life (or mid-life), in Texas, I’m sensitive to the frenzied disparate bombardment of opinions.

About everything.

On social media it’s North meets South, again.

Gun control, border walls, homegrown terrorists. Workplace violence.

Kim Kardashian.

Donald Trump.

Rhetoric, vitriol.

Electronic bullets.

People blown to bits in 140 characters or less.

Makes me realize.

People are shooting off their mouths indiscriminately.

The world needs The Rifleman more than ever.

Let’s return to September 1958, shall we?

Turn the clunky black dial flush to a rich, mahogany console. Fire up the RCA Victor, boys and girls.

TV tubes resonate a low hum. They sound like the wings of a thousand agitated bees until a black & white moving picture emerges. Out of nowhere from behind thick glass.


RCA 1958

No matter how clear the picture, a perpetual cinematic room for a clearer clear exists. You toil endlessly with dual rabbit-ear antenna rods.

Feverishly you orchestrate two straw-thin antennas, stare at the screen. Stop. Work again. An awkward tango with thin aluminum arms. You’re expecting magic. Only you know when it’s found.

Battling rabbit ears is lost to the annals of American household pop culture. The endless search for medieval high-def is history. Dead.

Warmth seeps in on air waves. Vacuum tubes that resemble bulbous laboratory vials glow yellow. Heat rises. Conjures a musty, heady aroma from a warm brown felt grid stapled to the back of the set.

Cozy up to a screen of the thick glass. Watch your arm hair come alive, tingle to attention from static electricity.

You feel good all over.

And then.

Mom bellows from the kitchen because of course, she knows everything.

“Don’t sit too close, you’ll ruin your eyes!”

The Rifleman, a half-hour western drama, ran for five seasons: 1958-1963. Prime time on ABC.

Chuck Connors portrayed chisel-jawed Civil War veteran Lucas McCain. A widower raising a young son Mark McCain, alone. Building a life, a ranch, in the fictional town of North Fork.

I feel the ladies fading fast.

“I don’t like westerns.”

OK, The Rifleman is officially a western. You got me. However, life lessons roll larger than thunder arteries blistering the clouds in Oklahoma skies. The  guns, bullets, dust, horses, and saloon brawls are set dressings for stories of challenge and perseverance. True grit.

Now, let’s get those ladies corralled into readin’.

A 6’6″ Lucas McCain holds a rigid stance against the searing heat of nature. Overworked boots. Heels in dry dirt. His broad shoulders glisten wet under the blistering New Mexico summer. The straight-line high blue gushes the same color as his eyes. Jaw clenched in determination, he removes his hat, the felt brim dark with sweat.

The salty sting in his eyes feels good. He’s alive. One with the land. His land.

Cotton is wet-heavy. A blast furnace against his skin.

Soaked with the fire of his toil.

He pauses to toss his shirt. Abruptly, it lands with a thick thud and soaks the parched earth underneath. A seldom breeze lands cool on his back. At 37, Lucas is fit, perhaps more so than a decade earlier.

His bare torso is lean. Working the earth, relishing the ‘sodbuster’ way of life has made him hard in body, sharper in mind. His farming a cleansing of where he came from, buried under black-pitch soil mixture of the present. Hopeful yet guarded for the future.

For him.

For Mark McCain. His boy.

Lucas reaches for a nearby bucket. Drinks deep from it. The sweet liquid from the ladle is lukewarm but invigorating. He carefully pours the precious liquid over his upper body. Drops embrace and crawl down his tired muscles.

The anterior of his right shoulder is tight but pliable. It had to do. Only a short time for a breather. There are more chores before sunset.

Lucas returns to his regimen. The thick spade handle grips small in large, callused hands. It comes alive. Ironically, his hands could kill yet it was easier to save a life. Grow it, too.

rifleman one

Whew, the ladies have returned.

Lucas McCain. A man of determination and wisdom formed by serving as Union lieutenant in the Civil War. Behind steeled eyes that witnessed the worst of the human condition, Lucas McCain became a master of placing himself in another’s veins. He knew when to strike and when, as a man of wisdom, back down.

Yea, there’s much one can learn from watching, no observing, The Rifleman.

rifleman three

Random Thoughts:

Shot #1: How much pain will it take to release the truth inside? 

The emergence of your internal compass, a definition of truth as it breaks away from the fence lines of long roads traveled. How does this happen?

An uncompromising life philosophy.

What I call “Rifleman’s Awareness” is not born of happy or pretty.

It’s not of sunshine.

The source is internalized writhing maggots. Thick layers of spilled blood that attach to every cell. A tight-wedged coagulation of unhealed festering wounds that slither from unresolved torment under relentless pressure. A billion lifetimes in the making.  The rot of past trials go back that far.

Sharp enemies of the past, the ones that carry and cut with rusted blades, never die. They continue to pierce until an injured limb goes numb and severed. At that point, you’ve won against fear and pain.

The opportunity has arrived for you to crush hideous demons into beautiful diamonds.

Nothing can hurt you. The higher plain is no longer fallowed grounds but an endless bounty.

You must learn to train these devils to do your bidding or allow their disease to stick to you. Consume who you are. Who you can be. Until you’re dead.

The Rifleman corralled and controlled internal torment. He could aim and fire the perfect dose of justice every time. His skills with a rifle were legendary. Known for miles. His words were delivered with similar velocity as bullets.

It’s safe to assume from binge watching  what moves Lucas forward is life earned (and learned) –  a bloody war, the loss of a spouse, a vigilance over his only child.

It can take years, decades (perhaps never) to develop a personal truth, an internal guide that motivates daily actions. The release of wisdom from a greater guide than self is an exhausting, ongoing process.

Beliefs that seed in the soul can break away to help you conquer the renegades in black hats. The gatekeepers. The enemies. When forced to protect everything you hold dear, those seeds will grow to mighty oaks.

Your personal rule book will be lived only after you’ve tamed the beast of fear. That mastery comes from confronting and melting the freeze that is born of it.

But first, you’re going to need to understand who makes the rules and why.

If you feel sick going into work every day, ostracized for disagreeing with your boss, shunned by co-workers, well then you sort of know already.

You’re walking the path of The Rifleman.

Recently, my friend and greatest teacher James Altucher wrote about personal rules on Facebook.

You see, he appears to be a nerd. However, he’s a self-aware rifleman (armed with pen and a waiter’s pad):


The government has rules.
Schools have rules.
Society has rules.
Parents and then family have rules.
Relationships have rules.

I tried to follow all the rules. I was a good boy.

Sometimes it’s hard to keep track. The rule book is too big.

And then I got the phone calls. Why didn’t you follow that rule?

I don’t know. It didn’t make me feel good.

Well, if the only thing that is important to you is feeling good you would just kill and steal and lie to people all the time.

Why would any of that make me feel good?

Well, what does make you feel good?

Talking to you on the phone makes me feel good.

Aside from that.

Walking outside and looking at people. Feeling the last remnants of sun on my cheek before the winter comes.

Being kind to someone when they least expect it. Surprise makes me feel good.

Knowing that every now and then I can still make my teenage children laugh.

I gave a talk a few months ago and I heard my youngest laugh. That is the best feeling I’ve ever had. She laughed right after I said something that felt like it was breaking the rules (I forget the statement: I was describing either lying or stealing or saying something about my mom).

Seeing the smile of a woman up close after a first kiss. That makes me feel good.

Being with friends who love me and I love. Anybody else…and I don’t feel so good. I feel sick.

Feeling like I’m improving at something I love. Because that grounds me and let’s me enjoy the company of others with the same passions.

Feeling like I need less than I thought I needed. Because needing less allows me to float into the sky without feeling scared, without feeling burdened to the ground.

Feeling always like I’m exploring.

Writing something really really awful. Because who gives a fuck.

Like this.


So many times I hear from people who say: I have to follow the career (or marry the person), my parents want.

Or someone says: I have to go to college or nobody will give me a job.

Or someone tells me: you should be around these people. They can help you succeed. (But I don’t like them so what should I do?).

Or someone says: I want to have ten million dollars to relax. And own a big home so I can feel roots.

Or someone says: You have to vote in order to have your voice heard in society.

Or someone says: I feel stuck because I can’t quit my job because I have all of my family responsibilities.

I built a prison for myself also. It had triple locks. It had lots of guards. It had solitary confinement when I was bad. I didn’t much like my fellow prisoners but they were in here with me so I figured I would be with them.

I felt ashamed when I broke the rules of the prison. When I went broke. When I didn’t take the career I was supposed to.

When I didn’t return the calls or network with the right people or when I quit without warning the job I didn’t like or lost the homes I could no longer pay for.

Or when I was thrown out of school or when I didn’t pay the IRS or when I didn’t love enough the people I was supposed to love. Or the things I have done when I was so scared about money I thought I would go broke and die.

Or when I tried to live in a homeless shelter just to meet women or when I demanded love back from the women who didn’t love me or when I cried because I was scared that my life would disappear and nothing would be left behind.

This was solitary confinement. And it was lonely and I was afraid.

And one day I walked out.

And nobody ever saw me again.

That is some Lucas McCain kind of shit.

Lucas McCain Shooting

Lucas’ motives are consistently noble. No. Perfectly noble. Even when he’s left little choice but to use his modified Winchester Model 1892 to take out villains, he is delivering  justice. His guide is a higher calling. A shiny key to living a life in the rough.

When you do a Lucas on who or what threatens you (and you will; rifle not required), be noble in your intentions. Standing for something you believe in is important to not only you, but to others.

Half-assed nobility is better than none.

I worked for (was enslaved by) Charles Schwab. Plainly speaking, my perception, my code, defines them as bad guys in white hats. Difficult to detect a rotted underbelly unless you’re homesteading within their bowels for a spell (cowboy lingo).

They hide behind edicts created by terrifying gatekeepers and spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on vigilante attorneys to intimidate and in many cases, destroy others. They’ll lie in cold-blood to slaughter the warm blooded.

They live to frame you for horse stealing or cattle rustlin’ and immediately call for your neck in a noose and a swing until you’re dead.

Underneath their so-called ‘code’ rolls an insidious dark residue of unethical dissonance. I know their employees work in fear. At least 100 of them have contacted me. They reach out from the shadows. Punch smartphone keys from hidden places. They ask me questions about how to break free. I’m happy to provide information.

It’s part of who I am. Help others. Don’t ask or seek anything in return.

I cut the wire fence. I spoke out. I did a Lucas McCain.They tried for years to wipe me out. High-noon style. I was willing to go broke exposing them. Ultimately, they were exposed for who they truly are. I’m still damaged. It’s fine. I learned. I won.

Oh, I forgot to mention: Every noble effort requires spilled blood. Your own or others. Not literally, silly. Well, perhaps, but let’s not go there. Could be money, an internal organ, a relationship.

Be prepared to lose something close or dear to you.

However I now live according to my own definitions. Rifleman-style.

Most likely, aggressively staking out villains is not for you. I don’t recommend it. Like The Rifleman, know when to take pressure off the trigger.

Those with personal codes think clear. Even under tremendous stress. They’re in control. Admittedly, I’ve made mistakes. Lucas rarely outed the rogues or took violent action unless those he loved or he, was in danger.

Recall what James wrote: Walk. Never be seen again. Fleeing from a cancerous environment can prevent well, cancer. Or worse. A long meaningless life within an unhealthy, suffocating environment.

“There’s dark corners in everybody’s lives. Sometimes it’s doesn’t pay to poke around in them.”

Lucas McCain

Like Lucas McCain did on several occasions, retreat from the gatekeepers. But walk with your front to them. Don’t take your steeled glance off them.

Don’t blink.

Never trust the fuckers.

Heed The Rifleman: Sometimes it pays to stay out of dark corners.

Be at peace. Take your ego out of it and understand you cannot change those who harm others even if they do it unintentionally. However, you have a choice. They can’t fathom a choice. In their minds, their worlds, there are no other roads.

Hey, you can move to another town (North Fork is coming along).

Perhaps you require more time, life experience, sorrow, regret, before you act. That’s OK, too.

Your time will come. No need to exhaust all your ammo right now. I’m not saying you won’t need to fire multiple shots. I’m saying it’s not required for every situation.

You’ll choose what’s right. Live to die. Or die to live. Codes don’t need to be complicated. Simple and powerful will get the chores done every time.

Go ahead: Get ready to fire your first shot. Tap into the diamond of your greatest powers. What are your personal beliefs? The ones the gatekeepers seduce you to believe cause grief for them and great obstacles for you.

The ones that scare the rule makers out of town.

“The rules tell me I can shoot. My own rules tell me that I hate gunfightin’ and will avoid it until I can’t.”

Lucas McCain.

Shot #2: Be Lucas McCain for only an hour a day. What you tell your brain, it will believe. It’s that simple. For an hour a day be – The Rifleman. Embrace his spirit of uncomfortable wisdom. Navigate a tough, admirable road you’ve been afraid to travel.

Like my friend Tanya. She’s battling a bully. She’s relentless to seek justice against a predator and helping other victims to speak up. The episode has affected her health. However, she’s steadfast and has a deep passion for justice.

The Rifleman lives in Tanya.

Like her, take one uncomfortable action that will draw you closer to understanding why you were put on the planet. One heroic act before you go.

Never be afraid to question your personal code. Lucas did. He was willing to listen when people he trusted advised him of a misconception. He kept an open mind. He was seasoned enough to adjust his thinking. Humble enough to apologize (and mean it).


badlands one

People tell me The Rifleman isn’t real.

I call those renegades out at high-noon to face their bullshit.

Perhaps I’m immersed. Too deep in writing for television. Regardless, fiction and fact are cut from two sides of a blade. One man’s reality is another man’s fiction. Fiction and fact co-exist and shoot from the same barrel.

One hour a day to heed a higher calling, an enriched life.

Not much to ask.

See those eyes? Lucas McCain is watching (I advise against resistance).

rifleman steel eye

Shot #3: Don’t let bad guys off the hook until (unless) they have proven change. Lucas’ history collided with his present, often.  He knew he couldn’t escape (for long) the bad inflicted on people or the horrific marks others have left.

In many episodes, the karma coach rolls into town. Like a wagon wheel across the mid-section. Straight out of the Oklahoma territory.

Lucas’ dark place.

Ironically, the beasts entered North Fork frequently (drama folks, is good television). At times, he overreacted to their presence. He relived what they did to him. Like it was yesterday, he recalled their evil behavior.

Those who had proven redemption were forgiven. The others? Well, a dead-eye trigger finger took care of them. Lucas believed everyone could change, even the vilest of characters. If not, western justice was served.

You’ve lived long enough to be fooled by the bad guys. I bet they outnumber your good souls 2 to 1. Most of them can’t change. Too far gone. You can’t shoot them. I wouldn’t advise it.

Unless ‘The Purge’ becomes a thing, then go for it. I keep my ‘purge’ list fresh.

Hey, you never know.

The purge two

Nah, you don’t need to resort to anything ugly. As a matter of fact, even under the intensity blasts of an August New Mexico sun, beauty will eventually appear out of the dirt for a patient sodbuster.

The strength in beauty bursts from heat. Cold is death.

Heat is life.

So don’t forgive the bad ones. Whatever you do. Don’t let them off the hook. Forgiveness just for the sake of it, for nothing, is death by ice. A soul in deep freeze. It signals you’ve given the bad ones a free pass. It’s you crawling belly down through the tundra, all the way cutting your gut open, dragging entrails.

Forgiving those who never seek redemption is a crime against your own heart.

Forgiveness foolishly exposes your hand, weakness. The seasoned poker players of North Fork would shoot you dead before you back away from the table. Embrace the anger. Let it take you. Allow it to scorch a personal path to victory.

The anger furnace will fuse your internal organs into barbed wire. Every cell grows sharp and deadly. You’ll become a master at detecting the presence of those who put your mental health at risk and seek to drain precious internal resources.

Because if you don’t learn, it’ll keep happening. Until the darkness saddles up alongside you and sticks to you forever like the spiny wings of Canadian thistle.

Back to our regularly scheduled program…

One early Saturday morning, Marshal Micah Torrance found out some disturbing news.


A woeful cloud recently rolled into town.

And he needed to think fast.

Or a friend’s life held in the balance.

Behind heavy-iron lattice of a lawman’s office office, Micah appears to require Lucas’ assistance with reinforcing a shelf to the deep interior of the middle jail cell.

For 62, the silver-haired lawman is surprisingly swift in gait. With Lucas holding the shelf against the wall, ready for the marshal to secure it, Micah makes his move.

Backwards exit.

On quiet footfalls. Steady. Micah clears the heavy cell door, shuts it quickly with a loud clank. Lucas at first believes his old friend is reciprocating a prank that embarrassed Micah the night before.

Far from it.

Micah was protecting Lucas from himself.

Reef Johnson was back.

Reef Johnson.

Once Lucas’ best friend.


He shot him in the back.


He left him to die.


He attempted to steal Lucas’ wife.

Ten years had gone by. For Lucas, it was a minute.

It was said that Lucas and Reef could pass for brothers back then.

A decade later, Lucas cared only about one thing.

To find this man. Track him. Destroy him.

No pass go. No collect $200. Just a death wish fulfilled.

Locked behind the cell door, the rage in Lucas’ eyes turned bars into molten steel.

“Micah, let me out of here. NOW!”

Tough lives roll the travails of revenge road.

Both parties lose a piece of themselves in the gravel. Their souls forever connected in a demon’s gambol. They spin and grind worn under the passage of time, or death.

Or confrontation.

From behind stark-black lines of shadows. Into dust-frizzed daylight that slivers through wooden slats of an old barn wall, a man emerges from a distant corner.

Tired of running.

As the enemy moves into half/dark half/light, Lucas full of anger, gun sharp and raised. He is a thick step closer to get a better look at the fire, his invidious focus.

As slit light slashes across Reef’s face you can’t stare. You can’t look away.

His hair matted, disheveled.

Deep lines across his cheeks, facial skin as sallow as worn leather.

“I’m here, Lucas. I can’t run any longer. Kill me! Get it over with!”

This man. What’s left of this man. A man who once resembled Lucas McCain, smooth of youth, clear of eye was nothing but a shell. He looked 77, not 37.

Lucas lowered his rifle. Revenge no longer held captive the ready grip on the trigger.

“Lucas! You can’t leave me like this! Please!”

As The Rifleman created distance between himself and that barn. That place where his anger ceased. The place he left in silence, yet heard the screams for miles…

He realized.

What he felt was pity.

The heave in Lucas’ chest was sorrow.

This wasn’t forgiveness. Release wasn’t forgiveness.

Never forgive those who shoot you in the back and leave you to die.

Time and the universe will take care of those villains in the proper manner.

In due time.

Sit back. Tend to your fields. Nurture the ground.

Be patient.

rifleman four

Shot #4: Forge strong financial boundaries around you and yours.

The financial landscape post-Great Recession is enemy territory.

Oklahoma badlands.

Your money isn’t safe.

There’s not enough barbed wire to protect the homestead.

And the soil. Underneath the dirt, a bounty in stocks for 6 years or so, is over. Frankly, many retail investors didn’t participate in the 159% total return of the S&P 500 off the March 2009 bottom, anyway. They’re still trying to recover from the 2000 tech wreck and a flat-lined market from 2000-2013.

It’s still a whirlwind ribbon of dust.

Lance Roberts, Clarity Financial’s Chief Investment Strategist revealed his truth, discovered his rifleman years ago through his thorough, no-spin analysis of the stock market and the economy.

Refreshing. Rare.

The accounting magic used to prop up earnings, the foolish optimism of estimated earnings, profit-margin reversion.  It’s all here, folks.  You want fiery shots of wisdom in your gut? Read it.

And people call The Rifleman fiction and the stock market reality.

It’s silly, isn’t it?


Lucas is not amused by this information.

You shouldn’t be either.

Shot #5:  Always teach and always expect nothing in return.

One of the greatest rewards in life is teaching others and expecting zero.  It’s a positive rate of return to the world, the universe. It makes the stars shine brighter above a blue-black New Mexico sky.

The Rifleman shares memorable words, bits of shotgun-wisdom with his son Mark. He never holds back. Even when Mark doesn’t quite get it.

Doesn’t matter.  Eventually Lucas’ invaluable guidance kicks in. On occasion, it saves Lucas’ hide.


“How can a man be so good with animals and so mean to people?

Lucas McCain: That’s a sign you’re growing up.

Mark McCain: What do you mean, Pa?

Lucas McCain: The older you get, the more questions there are without answers. ”

lucas and mark

Today, I teach young investors how to not get killed by the buy-and-hold investment mantra and how true diversification includes investment in personal education and health.

I guide gifted financial services pros away from big box financial retailers and direct them to havens that have fiduciary intent. It’s a part of what I do. They’re my Mark McCains. My kids. I set them forth with noble intentions and a different world view.

How will you teach today? Who will you inspire?

Will you seek nothing in return except the stare at the stars in the sky?

Shot #6: now the difference between dumb fear and smart fear. Those who are reckless with your heart, your money, your emotions. Predators who dig beneath your vulnerability and then rip you apart from the inside, should be feared and avoided.

Individuals who have a track record of apathetic and non-empathetic behavior should never be allowed on the ranch.  You’ll know them. You’ll be sickened by what you’re feeling. You’ll ignore what your intuition is telling you.

That’s plain dumb fear. And that will eventually leave you out in the desert with no water.

Vultures circling. Dead meat. You’ll crawl to safety but some part of you will be gone forever.

However, smart fear will keep you alive.

How do you develop smart fear?

Unfortunately, smart fear only comes with experience and knowledge.

You’ll require a construct. Questions are a solid foundation for said construct.

Create a simple framework to identify, fortify your defenses against enemies.

Start small. Big results.

All you need are three questions to get to the heart of anything.

My humble opinion.

Here’s a trio I use for dating (based on personal experience – yours will indeed, differ).

Let your inquiry flow naturally. You’ll become The Rifleman at separating friend from foe, now from forever, life from death.

How would you describe your long-term relationships with friends and family?

Big one. If she doesn’t have any close ties, or they’re full of weird sexual or resentful experiences I’m dodging a bullet.

Have you ever broken off an engagement? 

Sure, nobody’s perfect: I’m just looking for an inability to commit, serial monogamy. Murder. “He fell from the upper deck on a Carnival cruise.”

How many times have you accused others of something you’re guilty of yourself?

Somewhat inflammatory. Granted. On purpose. We’re all guilty. I’m seeking to get a handle on frequency, accusations, assumptions. “Never” is not a good answer either.

Three questions.

For everything.

To create a personal SFDS – Smart Fear Detection System.

“It’s the price you pay on staying alive and in your right senses, it’s manhood. And I can promise that when you come to the far end of it, you’ll raise your old hands to bless this wonderful life you’ve been given, taken all together with the roast beef, and the moon rises, and a boy and his father riding out in the morning, after you’re grown up to be a father yourself.”



Shot #7: Get in or cause trouble for the right reasons.

My favorite bullet. Hits me in the heart every time.

There’s a point in your life where you don’t give a shit any longer about what others think. You’ve been living your code. Those who fit in stay. Those who don’t, go. Life gets simpler. You begin to figure shit out, you begin to help others figure shit out.

The ranch is humming along, the crops are bountiful, the soil is the right composite, the enemies are at bay.

Then there are times when the trouble in your life resembles weather systems. When the turbulence begins, you also know it will pass. Makes it easier to deal with the aftermath, the cleanup. Healing.

And you can create your own weather. Spark your own thunder as the needs arise. For the right reasons.

Shot #8: Don’t be afraid to confront a person with their truth.

Lucas will place himself in precarious situations. Smack in the middle of the rough.Tip toe on the blade.

He’ll go out of his way to wake people up. Help them understand their truth. Most of us live in a state of denial. We hurt others, we lie, we make promises, we kill, we have little empathy and yet we want to be perceived as ‘good’ people.

Frankly, most people are assholes. They use you for what you can provide and then move on. That’s fine.

But make sure to tell them they’re assholes and deal with the consequences.

Perhaps you’ll enlighten. Regardless, you gave them some shit to chew on whether they like it or not.

Shoot the asshole a verbal bullet. Then walk.

You know how to eat shit, right?

Best not to nibble.

Bite, chew, swallow, repeat.

Because if you deliver, you’ll eat it, too.

Comes with the territory.

Shot #9: Learn when somebody confronts you with yours.

If you dare to shoot, you must be willing to be shot. You can’t protect yourself from a gunfight. The key is for bullets to graze, but not kill.

You must respect your opponent, however. That’s the key.

Hey, if you’re going to learn a tough lesson best to get it from a person you respect for whatever reason. Doesn’t need to be a grandiose reason. There’s just something about this individual you admire.

When Lucas shoots his mouth off and Micah gives it to him straight, Lucas doesn’t like it but he listens because he respects the marshal.

“Lucas, I think you’re wrong about this one.”

If someone provides constructive criticism, it’s acceptable, normal, to hate it at first. It’s fine to feel the sting of the words like bullets, and bleed out.

Right there on Main Street, North Fork.

Just as long as you step back, dig out the fragment. Feel the pain. Examine it. Ponder why you were shot. Was it one of the best shots of your life?

Learn from the bullets that hit and take you off balance.

Just as long as you respect the shooter.

Otherwise it’s an enemy and you need to return the blast.


Shot #10: Stick your neck out for those you love. Place your neck in the noose if it means someone you love remains happy, moves on, sticks around.

What else you got?

Sacrificing a part of yourself for someone you cherish isn’t a bad thing. It’s walking like McCain.

I did it for clients and a fiduciary right to care for them.

You’ve done it for children. Parents. Friends. Animals.

Recognize, remember, reward yourself for sticking your neck out for those you love.

Heck, you’ll be called horrible things. I know.

You think everybody loved Lucas?

Why do you really think he needed that rifle?

lucas rifle

The thing in this life is to stay alive. Ride easy.

Like in the old west.

Lucas McCain never spoke the words at the start of this blog post.

As I write dialogue for television I place words in mouths of fictional characters. The commentary would have been delivered perfectly however. I can hear the deep-baritone voice of The Rifleman resonating right now.

You don’t get endless shots at this stuff because eventually you’re in adult diapers and drooling into a liquefied breakfast.

Give yourself a number. I chose four.

Four bullets in my rifle.

I believe Lucas suffered from overwhelming, lasting grief that he channeled into something bigger than himself.

Last, I learned from Lucas that death isn’t frightening.

Bad memories?

Ghosts from the past?

Now they’re frightening.

They haunt, relentlessly.

Yet there’s something good that arises.

When the demons dance.

They create.


Dedicated to radio host,  veteran broadcaster, all-around good guy and most important: Hard-core “The Rifleman” fan – Gary McNamara. 

Special mention to dear friend Tanya Bilisoly, Austin realtor extraordinaire who is taking on a bully, living her “Rifleman moment,” right now.



Jurassic Money: 5 Financial Dinosaurs to Avoid.


Jurassic One

In the 1993 film “Jurassic Park,” Jeff Goldblum’s character argues with the scientists who have assured him that their cloned dinosaurs cannot reproduce. “Life finds a way,” Goldblum says.

Extinct for millions of years, dinosaurs survive on the big screen. They frighten and thrill us out of our cash and generate big box-office bucks. (Their latest romp, “Jurassic World,” has grossed more than $600 million this summer.)

Dinosaurs exist in the real world, too — financial dinosaurs that stomp on your goals and chew up your money.

Don’t feel bad: These prehistoric remnants often thrive in the portfolios or financial activities of even the most astute investors. For massive creatures, they are mysteriously stealth-like when it comes to devouring cash from wallets. Life, you could say, finds a way.

Can you detect the beasts that smash portfolio performance and endanger overall financial progress? Consider these five fossils that require burial deep within the archives of financial services history.

Random Thoughts:

1. Load mutual funds

These ancient beasts roaming the asset classes of your portfolio have long since reached their life expectancy. With more than 16,000 no-load managed or index funds available, paying sales loads on mutual funds is akin to taking a big bite out of your investment returns before they have a chance to run.

Whether it’s the A-share price of admission of 3%-5.75% upfront or the creative B- and C-share classes, where load charges are supposedly deferred (but not really), the total expenses of these investments are a challenge to justify. Stay away from this Jurassic world. It will only lead to financial chaos. If you own loaded funds, monitor them regularly with a watchful eye for exit. Move into more affordable options as soon as their performance lags their benchmarks for two quarters.

no load funds

2. Variable annuities

This blend of mutual funds and insurance busted out of containment long ago and has wreaked financial havoc on thousands of investors. As with the Indominus rex of “Jurassic World” — the product of combining the DNA of multiple creatures into a terrifying monster that would sell more theme park tickets — the financial services industry created these hybrids to benefit themselves through lofty commissions and high fees.

If you own a variable annuity, you’d get better acquainted with what makes this creature tick. Don’t be surprised to learn that annual expenses can be 4% or higher. That means every year a significant portion of your return gets devoured by the ravenous VariableAnnuitus rex. Pay attention to surrender or “exit” penalties that can range from 1%-10% and decrease over a period of years. These charges are designed to hold you captive in the cage with these costly beasts for as long as possible.

Work with a financial or insurance professional to devise a strategy to transfer variable annuity proceeds to less expensive alternatives. To defer taxes, an advisor, if properly licensed, can initiate a process called a 1035 exchange.

Take heart: Not all annuities are prehistoric relics. Deferred-income or single-premium income annuities are becoming more popular as ways to supplement Social Security and generate an income you cannot outlive.

3. Payday and title loans.

These types of loans for quick cash are growing in popularity. Like the velociraptors of “Jurassic World,” they don’t seem too dangerous until the sharp teeth of interest charges and other fees dig deep into your wallet. With interest rates that can easily top 300% APR, rarely are they a smart choice. Several states have passed legislation to help consumers understand how these loans work. Fast-cash lenders cater to people in a liquidity crunch, usually lower-income groups with poor credit opportunities.

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau is gaining a better understanding of the nature and magnitude of payday, title and other installment-type loans. It’s customary for a borrower to “roll over” these loans and continue to pay fees and interest charges, thus creating a debt trap that’s tough to escape. If you must use these loans out of necessity, realize that the federal government is actively forming a framework to harness these financial beasts and determine how people can seek credit relief in an affordable manner.

lose money fast

4. Emotion-based investing

Our brains are primal. They’re built to keep us alive, not necessarily to maximize our investment returns.

Dalbar recently released its latest “Quantitative Analysis of Investor Behavior” study. This 21-year analysis consistently shows how poorly mutual fund investors have performed compared with market benchmarks. For example, in 2014, the average equity mutual fund investor underperformed the S&P 500 by more than 8.19%. In fact, the return from the broader market was more than double that of the average equity mutual fund investor: 13.69% vs. 5.50%.

One of the more prominent investor pitfalls is called “anchoring.” An anchor can sit heavy on net worth — like a brontosaurus on the chest. Investors who anchor are focused solely on the price they paid for an investment. If the investment turns out to be a loser, anchoring prevents the investor from selling regardless of whether conditions warrant a sale. They strive to “get even.” Anchoring results in opportunity costs or even bigger losses as additional money is put into underperforming investments. To battle this primal enemy, create a buy and sell rule for every investment or work with a professional to guide you.

lizard brain

5. Brick-and-mortar banks

For higher yields, exit the Jurassic period. Virtual banks can link easily to brick-and-mortar options and are FDIC-insured. Even if not for day-to-day banking, online choices are perfect for savings, especially emergency reserves which ideally should hold six to nine months’ worth of household living expenses. NerdWallet offers a comprehensive hub with savings account basics, tips to find higher savings accounts rates and a list of the best online savings accounts.

bad bank

There’s no place in household balance sheets for colossal animals, especially those that have a ravenous appetite for cash. Keep the dinosaurs limited to movie choices, and financial success will be more reality than fantasy.

Jurassic World

This post first appeared on Nasdaq.

From Accumulation to Distribution: A Retirement Crossroad.


As originally appeared in MarketWatch’s Retirement Weekly.

What’s been my greatest advice to people once they seriously consider retirement?

No it’s not create a budget.

It’s watch the movie “Castaway.”

Castaway one

Take notes. Life is about to get bumpy.

Money is at the bottom of the life list for surprises. There are enough academic studies that prove how people with formal retirement planning are more successful than those who don’t plan.

No, there’s another storm front to weather.

In the 2000 film Tom Hanks portrays a frenetic FedEx systems employee obsessed with time and productivity. During a Christmas evening flight to Malaysia, his delivery plane crashes in the Pacific Ocean. He is violently tossed and cast to a remote island where he remains trapped and surrounded by cascading ocean currents. Over four years, while loved ones consider him lost (they had a funeral), and the love of his life marries and moves on Chuck Noland survives, too.

The drama is layered with lessons of acceptance, perseverance, resourcefulness and a shift in perspective that takes Tom Hank’s character to a rural Texas farm-road crossing, an old FedEx truck route he’s traveled before. Although this time, the weight of his decision is heavy.

It will change his life forever.

Once that retirement decision is made you’ll feel that weight. You’ll stand on a double-yellow line at a crossroad.

Which direction will you turn?

Here are a few lessons to navigate the first and most stinging waves of retirement.

Random Thoughts:

Those truly ready to retire have a sixth sense of sorts. You will too. As the FedEx plane plummeted from a stormy night sky, the odds of human survival were remote. As the aircraft broke apart and sank like a stone, Chuck’s instincts kicked in. Miraculously, he made it to the surface.

A lone survivor.

Pre-retirees seem to sense when their employers’ planes are headed in a different direction than they are. Those I counsel often reference turbulence at work they no longer find appealing or willing to accommodate.

Stressful projects, new bosses. The changes that were easy to overcome before are no longer palatable. If you plan accordingly for retirement, 5-7 years out, you’ll be able to control your escape, maintain focus on an exit. Like Chuck, an event will motivate you to flee. There will be a sense of urgency to depart. For example, a client who recently retired from a large corporation turned in his resignation one day before the executive suite announced the sale of the finance unit he had worked in for 16 years. That’s the uncanny sixth sense I’m talking about. Be open to the message.

Are you listening?

The first year in retirement can be challenging. Prepare to churn through darkness, all the time jolted by waves of self-discovery. When Chuck Noland surfaced he was nowhere out of peril. In the middle of nowhere there was still quite a way to go before safety.

Even those with a well thought-out financial plan are not completely prepared for retirement. The emotional part, anyway. It’s a span of dark distance I call “the black hole” as you cross from accumulating wealth to depending on it. New retirees feel vulnerable through this stage. They go through the motions. They seek a destination. A place that is not on a map because it’s created by the retiree traveling the path.

During the first year in retirement, give yourself a chance to accept life changes. Let the waves jostle you. Use time to re-discover who you were before a 40-year career dominated your life. This should be a new and enriching journey, however it begins with turbulence.

I’m sorry.

As you travel from accumulation to distribution, don’t completely sever the threads of your former environment.

In Castaway, Chuck Noland maintains his watch on Memphis time. It’s comforting to return to hours you remember pre-retirement. Recall the best about the wealth accumulation years. Nothing about you has changed. Except days formerly occupied with deadlines and meetings are now on a clock personally designed and followed by you.

A redesigned sense of value will eventually emerge but not without connection to who you were because it’s still who you are.

Isolated on a tropical island, very unfamiliar territory, the former hard-pressing executive who overlooked what’s truly important now finds survival with simple things he finds inside water-logged FedEx boxes that wash onshore. Items that connect him to life before the crash.  It anchors and helps him prepare mentally for this present condition.

He manages to keep near always an antique pocket watch. A Christmas present from his girlfriend. Her photo inside. It provides focus from the time of the ill-fated flight until he’s found floating almost dead, by a cargo ship. She is Chuck’s motivation to survive. His purpose.

castaway pocket watch

“She was with me on that island.”

I advise new retirees to focus on applying tenured ambitions to ventures that nurture their meaning, not their ambition. Core skills can be applied with meaning to hobbies, charities, part-time employment and travel. People, too. I observe retirees live again by spending resources on grandchildren. They’re not buying electronics or clothes or toys either. They’re purchasing experiences.

Who and what will be with you on that island called retirement?

Confide in a listener. Chuck Noland’s confidante was a Wilson-brand volley ball aptly named Wilson. The smiling face on the surface formed from a bloody hand print. Wilson became a source of comfort, a way for Chuck to work through a survival and ostensibly a harrowing escape plan.

Retirees find great comfort sharing their emotional concerns and fears with others, especially through the first year. Spouses and close friends become anchor points. Human pocket watches. Financial advisors can add piece of mind by reviewing retirement plans and budgets with retirees on a regular basis. An objective voice that provides consistent validation that their plan will work is crucial.

I have witnessed some of the greatest emotional and creative discoveries from retirees in the beginning years as long as they share open dialogue with people who care to listen.

I have read magnificent works of fiction writing, observed great paintings and other inspired works from former accountants, attorneys and other hard-driving right brain individuals who didn’t appear to be artistic at all. And I’ve known many of them for over a decade.

Chuck Noland would have never made it off the island without Wilson. I’m convinced. There was a wall of thought and belief to climb before a makeshift raft with a portable toilet sail could be constructed strong enough to encounter the terrifying tides which bordered the island.

Who are your Wilsons?

castaway Three

Define and live your themes. In your past life there were goals. Whether hit or miss, you defined yourself by them.

So did Chuck in his FedEx life.

Goal setting will not enhance your retirement. Themes will.

Think about it: Accomplish a goal and you immediately set another. Enjoy it briefly and anguish over the next one. If you fail, you become discouraged. Goals are no-win for the creator. They are human hamster wheels.

At the conclusion of Castaway, Chuck Noland was not driven by goals. He was no longer the same person. A roadmap of Texas, sunroof open, donned in sunglasses, he was immersed in the freedom of the path. In the passenger seat a new volleyball and an unopened FedEx package he carried throughout his ordeal. On the surface of the weathered-worn box a pair of painted angel wings now faded.

There was one last delivery to be made before continuing a new adventure. Chuck finds and leaves the package at the address of the sender along with a note that the package kept him alive.

Chuck stops to study a map at a crossroad not far from the ranch house. An attractive woman in a pickup truck pulls up alongside him.

“Where you headed?” she asks.

“I was just about to figure that out.”

“Well, that’s 83 South. And this road here will hook you up with I40 East. Um, if you turn right, that’ll take you to Amarillo, Flagstaff, California. If you head back that direction, you’ll find a whole lotta nothin’ all the way to Canada.”

castaway four

As the truck pulls away, Chuck notices the wings painted on the back of her truck. Identical to the ones on the package.

He turns toward the road she’s traveling and smiles.

Retirement should be focus on roads you seek to travel. Each has meaning.

Every rock under the tires is an experience to feel.

Let the themes you wish to follow reveal their destinations.

There’s a new life in the gravel.

At a funeral a woman who recently retired asked me:

“What am I supposed to do in retirement?”

I said: “Follow what makes you human. Find what you lost. You had wings once, most likely when you were a child. Now use them to fly on the wind of themes you loved once and forgot. You know, before they were clipped by the daily grind.”

Some of the best advice I provide to retirees has little to do with money.

The woman took my business card. She called me.

“Are you sure you’re a financial advisor?”

Sometimes I wonder.

castaway two

Happy Financial New Year – Five Different Paths to Money Success.

Media is flooded with pundits spouting 2014 financial resolutions. Heck, I’m on radio and television talking up the same.

talking head

Increase savings in retirement accounts, pay down credit card debt, check your insurance coverage for gaps – all good advice.


We already know this stuff. It’s drilled into our heads.

Every year.

It’s fine to be reminded of the healthy financial actions we should take.

Yet, what stops us from following through?

Before you ponder money improvements for 2014, think outside the box – deviate from the worn financial paths you have attempted to walk before.

This time you’ll succeed if you take five different paths.

1). Don’t save everything for retirement. You read it right. It’s been drummed into you how a secure financial future depends on maximizing contributions to tax-deferred options like 401(k) accounts.  But how important is it, really?

A.J Leon, writer, motivator, world explorer, big thinker, in his book, “The Life and Times of A Remarkable Misfit,” outlines 16 simple steps to make money and lose respect – Step 4 is: “Never invest in yourself. Instead sock every last penny in a 401(k) that may or may not be there to greet you when you turn 65.”

Many employers have a difficult time understanding retirement plans. From the hundreds of plans examined, I notice an overwhelming trend of bland choices coupled with high fees.

For some it’s best to settle on government-approved choices called “target-date” funds. They’re the prevalent cookie-cutter choices in your company retirement plan. Basically, they’re an all-in-one mix of mutual funds packaged and wrapped in another mutual fund, thus called a “fund of funds.” The mix of stocks, bonds and cash is designed to match up to the year you decide to re­tire.

For example, it’s 2012 and you’re 40 years old. You are planning to retire at 65 (good luck). You decide on the “BlahBlah Fund 2037.” Easy.

The logic behind a target date fund is simple even though underneath, the design is com­plicated and investment philosophies can deviate dramatically depending on the mutual fund family your employer utilizes. In other words, the returns of the Blah-Blah Fund 2037 compared to the returns of your buddy’s La-La Fund 2037 will most likely differ, some­times radically.

Let me clarify: Each fund creates a “glide path,” which means the blend of investments should gradually become less aggressive the closer one gets to retirement or the target year.

Per research by Zvi Bodie, the Norman and Adele Barron Professor of Management and Jonathan Truessard, Lecturer, both at Boston University in a 2007 paper “Making Investment Choices as Simple as Possible: An Analysis of Target Date Retirement Funds,” target date funds are approximately following the well-known rule of “100 minus your age,” for the stock portion of the mix. And this smelly piece of financial dogma needs to be abolished. Now.

Target-date funds require refinement. For those who invested their tax-deferred dollars in 2008 target-date options, hoping to begin withdrawing the money in 2008, were in for a rude awakening when their accounts suffered by over 21%.

Consult an objective financial advisor; select a balanced fund. If your choices are limited to the target-date variety, cut the “maturity” date in half.  Your estimated retirement date is 2020. That’s six years away.  Go for fund 2017. Be prepared for a 2008 surprise.

Contribute up to the employer match. Don’t leave free money on the table regardless of choices, either.

According to Federal Reserve data, the average U.S. household maintains an outstanding credit card balance of over $7,000. Based on numbers provided by, the average annual percentage rate or APR for variable-rate credit cards stands at 15.37%; fixed-rate cards stand at 13.02%.

Maybe, just maybe, your 401(k) account returns exceeded 13-15% in 2013 so it was worth carrying a credit card balance. Long term, it’s a bad financial choice. Instead of maxing out saving for retirement right now direct financial resources to pay credit card debt off in full.

2). Consider your human capital. Quantify your worth. You are your greatest investment. I know it’s tough to think this way, to choose yourself, but it’s true.  Return on self-investment is wealth yet to be achieved.

How will you increase your value in a challenging marketplace? Perhaps it’s a new skill necessary to move ahead and above a nascent U.S. economic recovery.

If a continuing education opportunity exists or improvement options are available to increase your income, do it. You’re probably never going to retire anyway and when you do decide, it’ll be much later than age 65 so maximize the ROY (return on you) today.

Check out a Human Capital Calculator here.

3). Get your head straight.  My friend Shanna and I discussed this topic, recently.  If you are jealous of those who have prospered financially and you communicate negative sentiment to others, you’re digging a toxic mindset hole that will be tough to escape.

Don’t talk yourself out of empowering money habits. It’s the lazy way out. Jealousy is an energy sucker, a cash drainer. Change your mind set in 2014. Your brain will believe what you repeat to yourself, to others.  Ask more questions of those you “envy:” How did you meet your goals? What are the daily habits you follow to gain greater financial independence? What did you learn from your mistakes? Learn from others, don’t push them away.


Teacher, mentor, investor, best-selling author James Altucher advises:

“You have a house. You need to keep the house clean so the right guests can arrive and feel comfortable. If you clutter it with anger or envy or scarcity or fear then abundance won’t feel comfortable moving in. I say this not from a position of comfort but because when i was dead and buried, i had to clean the clutter to make my life work. And it was hard because when the house is cluttered, your mind gets depressed and lazy.”

4). Stocks are not an end-all investment. Don’t be pushed into believing stocks are the panacea the financial industry tells you they are when it comes to fighting inflation. According to Jim Otar, creator of the Retirement Optimizer and author of several books on retirement planning expanded on this topic for a recent interview:

“Many advisors are under the assumption that stocks always beat inflation. This is not true. Equities beat inflation only during the long-term bullish trends, which occupied 43% of the last century. During the remaining 57% of the time, equities did not beat inflation.”

Rental properties, oil & gas interests, angel investing (can be RISKY), inflation-linked securities, deferred-income annuities can also battle inflation and diversify a stock portfolio.

5). Stop the competition.  I hear it often: My friends are the same age and they have: More cars, more savings, more stuff.


First, friends embellish.

It’s called the endowment effect.

Second, your best financial life begins today.

Don’t look back.

It’s never too late.

Third, forget the stuff.

Travel lighter.

Down five alternate paths.

And discover long-lasting financial success.

financial success

Emerged in Indigo – 5 Ways to Ride The Blue Spray to Better Mental Health.

“Yo, listen up, here’s a story. About a little guy that lives in the blue world. And all day and all night and everything he sees is just blue like him. Inside and outside. Blue his house with a blue rear window. And a blue corvette. And everything is blue for him. And hisself. And everybody around.”

Eiffel 65.

I woke up super early then. A teenage responsibility. To deliver New York’s “picture newspaper.” The Daily News. Sleeping residents would stir in a couple of hours expecting their papers. Along cement apartment grids. Ocean Parkway, Brooklyn.

It was one of the largest routes in the borough and I traveled it all on three-speed bicycle. I pulled a contraption rigged to handle 100 daily morning editions and the heaviest of Sunday’s news.

Before the sun was aware of its duty to Earth. Before the blue sky broke to orange. A first birth of light.

When the world was quiet. Stay quiet longer. A calm so loud it caused a ringing in the ears.

Not like this morning at 4.

News stations begin broadcasts at ungodly hours now. Roads are semi-clogged at 4 with volumes we once experienced two hours later.

I dislike how the world moves frenetic. So early. Stress. In the dark. Before the black dies to blue then blue surrenders to bursts of orange.

blue orange day

The world was simpler. Black to blue at a slower pace. Long ago you could enjoy the present. Appreciate atmospheric neon. Now – well, it’s different. 

Does it need to be?

world blue

Four in the morning was mostly test pattern territory in the 70s, accompanied by an awful buzz generated to scare the shit out of viewers and blow out mono-sound RCA television speakers.

What the hell was the significance of a test pattern anyway?

test pattern And what was with the Indian?

Seriously. Some young television producer seeking fame got lucky with a Spirograph and fooled a generation into thinking test patterns were something important. The noise that went along with them only added to the mystery. I always felt these test patterns were serious.

Like I needed to do something.

No sleep.

Seek shelter. That was it.

Evil was transmitted through black and white.

Through test patterns.


Throughout decades, no matter who we are, where we’re from, colors have stained us. Monochrome, Technicolor. Some colors horrify. Others soothe. Many inspire. A few suffocate our spirit or maybe worse. Colors saturate memories, thoughts; alter our sense of smell, taste. Sex, lust, love, hate, anger, life, death, empathy, apathy – all just splashes of color.

Colors haunt us. Colors explode in our souls. Ignite brains, shut them down.

And once a color is attached to a thought, a moment, it’s impossible to change it. Although I’ve learned the shade can indeed, change.

The color that sticks, stays however. That’s the rule.

When I a kid. Really young, when my senses were newer and more alive, as early as five years old, the vibrancy of spectrums overwhelmed me.

In the spring, the smell of new grass glowed lime green – in summer, the aromas were windblown ribbons of yellow. Colors shaped the hours. Every day had its own color and every moment was a shade of that color.

Unfortunately, I had many gray days, too. And they puzzled me. It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized they were my depression days. Depression runs deep black in my family. Both sides.

Back to blue:

blue dude A blue one for the ladies. 

When I left the corporate cocoon (broke away, forced out, whatever) after 23 years, I lost my colors. My sense of security, sense of self, all I was. Gone. At least I thought. And after a colorless adventure physically, financially, mentally, I am beginning to not only see, but feel colors again.

As I lost the ability to live in the present, worried incessantly about my future, the blue evaporated from my spirit. I was able to recall, even as far back as five years ago, how I would stare at a blue sky and wonder what the color was. My blue was definitely closer to Prussian. Dark, heavy. I thought that was the way it was supposed to be.

Life was supposed to be well, colorless. I chalked it up to low T, a demanding, lifeless boss, a publicly-traded financial services company with draconian demands. So much out of my control. All of it designed to drain my blue. I see lots of blue-drained people now. They try to paint themselves true blue with new televisions, more toys, car payments. 

Long ago, I would close my eyes, before the paper route journey began for the day. When the air felt clean, before daybreak. I could freely bask in the present, breathe deep. I remembered that.

I was sad my blue disappeared.

Blue was my color of hope back then. A spray of Azure, I think.

And now it’s coming full circle.

Black is fading to blue. I see it now.

How can you ride the blue spray to sanity? To better mental health.

Random Thoughts:

1). Try. Hard. Try. Hard. Not. To. Lose. Your. Force. In the first place.  At the first sign of color loss, even a slight fade, step back and examine the origin. It’s a warning: The color of joy, hope, is fading from your soul, reducing your life force. Recognize and say no to people, ideas, fears that cause your positive colors to bleed light and your dark colors to deepen.

It’s not easy.

This year proved to me it’s tougher that I would have ever believed.

As I look to the past, now in the present, I observe the shifting wave of blue spray. It’s right there. Ready to wash over me. Hope is returning. The shade is different however; I’ll need to examine why as I move forward down the blue road.  Once I recall hope as Azure; today it feels more Brandeis.

2).  Surround Yourself with Spirits Who Share or Enhance your Color. Now that the spray is in my grasp, how do I contain it, bold it up? Move the spectrum to blue, or dark blue? I’m learning to surround myself with blue spirits. I’ve gotten so good I can see a blue glow around the right teachers. The blue spirits come in all forms – human, animal. Young, old. They’re awash in the spray.

I can pick up on the color of a prospective teacher in a few seconds. The “fade shaders” as I call them, or the color absorbers are immediately discarded. They are removed from my mental space. Their sprays are lethal and tough to lighten once they hit you. 

3). I Feel the Blue in Those Who Eliminate Big Debts. Recently, I met with a son of a client who just paid off $30,000 in credit card bills through a strategy we worked on together. When he told me he was released from the massive debt, I could feel his blue spray return. And it felt good. It enhanced my blue. The progress which allowed him to reach a financial life benchmark changed his world for the better. He was more hopeful, powerful. A bluer world for me too.

4). Blue Signifies Cool. Cool can cleanse, preserve, enlighten, awaken. It’s that first exhale of fall when the air is cool and your breath is warm. Deep breathing allows blue spray to wash over you.

5). Batman’s Cape was Blue.  As a kid I would run around the house with a blue towel safety-pinned around my neck. Blue was the color of hope and strength. It represented helping those who needed it the most.

Naturally, I ran into shit like a dumbass and once knocked our 12 inch black & white television off a poorly constructed aluminum stand. Helping those without asking for anything in return will deepen your blue spray, embolden consistency.

Blue is indeed honorable.

Good friends are Cobalt.

Your teachers, your mentors are Sapphire.

Your spirit once black, is ready to burst Electric Indigo.

In a colorless world.

Allow your blue to emerge.

And anticipate the orange.

Of your ever-emerging life force.

batman cape

Gold Is a Rock – James Altucher. And Continues to Be – Rich Rosso

I had lunch with a smartie last year.

A smart, giving, beautiful, industrious young woman with the entire world at her feet had something important on her mind. I attempt to solve the world’s problems in Truluck’s main dining room. Her world’s problems were my problems. I knew she’d pass on what I tell her to others.

“I’m thinking of selling my regular investments and putting all the money into gold.”


Now, I’ve heard this commentary so many times already it’s almost like my earwax is made of a precious metal. I don’t even know why I sought an answer. I could have guessed what she was going to say and I would have been right. I respect this young lady so much so I was prone to listening. My curiosity got the best of me. The answer was what I usually hear.

Because I’m afraid,” she said.

“What are you afraid of?”

Again, I would have been shocked to hear anything new but I always keep an open mind.
Taking a mental bullet to gain knowledge should be part of your game plan. It’s how I roll.

atom bomb Gold is at home here.

“Feast, famine, life, death, the dollar, the national debt, war, earthquake, Obama, congress,jobs, inflation, deflation, interest rates, certainty over uncertainty, death, recession, depression, global annihilation, the Olson Twins weight problems.”

Gold had become “mother investor’s little helper” there for a while. Like a decade.

Until. Said mother decided to detox.

Admittedly, gold and other metals have kicked the ass out of other avenues for money.
The greatest concern today is how to gain perspective as many are now fully enmeshed in the emotional whirlwind called “recency” bias. Gold has blossomed into a recency bias monster but now the monster is bleeding. And we’ll try to convince ourselves the bleeding is temporary, or is it? I’m not smart enough to know. I’ll take being lucky and unemotional at this stage.

It went from Godzilla to Mothra real quick. Or did it? Were there signs for a period that a faith in paper currency was beginning to re-emerge?

As investors we just can’t detect the changes until something dramatic happens. And as we know, everything is dramatic in stock, metals and bond markets now.

Jason Zweig in his book “Your Money and Your Brain,” writes:

“It is human tendency to estimate probabilities not on the basis of long-term experience
but rather on a handful of the latest outcomes.”

Recency bias dulls senses. It makes humans fuzzy and unaware. Even worse is how it
strokes the flames of overconfidence in the extrapolation of current events way into the

It’s a hideous bitch of deception as it convinces your brain that a recent place will
always be tomorrow’s place. And the day after tomorrow’s place. I’m all for momentum, but one needs to understand when the direction of the wind changes.

The sun will come out tomorrow because it came out today.

Why again? (I ask why and why not, a lot). Don’t ask me why.

Storm clouds can overwhelm the horizon real quick. Have you noticed the weird shit going on with the weather lately?

The Earth is not as maternal as it used to be.

The Washington Monument was cracked due to a rare earthquake.The Washington Monument for God’s sake was CRACKED. This period too shall pass. (Or get worse.)

I have a job today. Tomorrow I will have the same job. This is plain silly to bank on in
today’s economy. Employers won’t even look at you if you’re not currently employed or
“recently” unemployed. After six months you might as well be invisible.

You’re that that valuable either. Companies (especially large, publicly-traded) will do whatever they must to preserve their precious margins and that includes quickly adding you to the unemployment or underemployment stats. This will eventually change too. Well, maybe not.

I’m thinking not. Part time is the new full time. Temporary is the new permanent. And gold is NOT the new medium of exchange.

Read on:

Gold always holds its value. Tis’ is true. Gold has never gone to ZERO in value. Tell me
how you feel though if you purchase it at $1,800 an ounce and it goes to $1,100. You indeed lost value. I know it’s not really a loss unless you sell it. It’s a paper loss. And this will never happen, right? Got it. Now wake up!

We’ve heard it all too many times. Still hearing it: Gold will continue to move higher.


Even if this is possible based on the warranted lack of faith in global leaders, you must remain skeptical when various signs begin to literally throw themselves at you. No investment goes the way you expect it to indefinitely.

I don’t care if it’s stocks, bonds, metals, widgets, antique toys (in original packaging), nothing goes straight up forever. Nothing. And you know what I mean.

For example, back in the 1930’s we were convinced that radio stocks would never falter.

Radio was going to “change the world.”  And it did. And the stock market got bored with it. Been there done that. Ostensibly, what was hot goes cold.

That’s a fact. Remember tech stocks? How you feeling about Apple stock these days?


Yes, Aunt Bev, I know. Buy gold. How about my favorite meatballs did you make them? 

How do you sniff out a top in the shiny stuff (or anything else)?

Random Thoughts:

1). Know the signs from relatives. People stay sharp! Watch for Aunt Beverly calling and demanding you own gold because the world is indeed over or at the minimum, going to hell. People at bingo told her the bible predicts the end of days! Vengeful gods accept gold as a medium of exchange for souls. Didn’t you know? Ok, not that accurate an indicator. But count it as a warning light. Please?

2). You notice consistent bantering about gold in elevators, on escalators. Or on rude, loud cell phone discussions at the supermarket or the movies or in public restrooms. I give you  permission to eavesdrop on conversations. Listen carefully for bloviating. We all know privacy died a long time ago. Loud bragging about an investment is a bad, bad sign. Money loss is imminent.

Once you begin to overhear more about gold than the latest sexcapades on an episode
of Real Housewives of Whatever, demand Aunt Bev sell immediately! Trust me. She
can buy back if I’m wrong. Feel free to send me an e-mail calling me an asshole
(only if I’m wrong please). Have mercy. Something tells me she’ll still make your favorite
meal when you visit (have a friend take a bite first just to be sure.)

3). Metal detector sales are through the roof. It’s the latest, greatest craze! Now more popular than pretty girls selling their alleged used panties on eBay (not allowed anymore so don’t get any ideas). Top global retailers of such equipment are experiencing a revolutionary boom in volume. Minelab, a company out of Australia that sells high-end metal detectors (about $5,600 each, not a typo) moved $118 million worth in 2010. That’s more than twice the sales numbers achieved in 2009. In 2012, gross revenues for metal detection products was strong but beginning to tail off from the peak in 2010.

You’ve lost a spouse, significant other, or friend to metal detecting. If I’m out $5,600 not including shipping and handling you can bet I’m not getting naked with anyone anytime soon. I’m planning to be feverishly obsessed with uncovering precious jewelry you lost on the beach. Probably best you move on. I’m busy. This did happen to a female friend I know in 2011. She’s much happier now.

4). More people are wearing apparel professing their love of gold. I don’t care if it’s a hat, t-shirt, dress, doggie shirt, whatever. It’s a sure warning sign of a top. No need to explain further.

golden showers oops, wrong shirt. 

According to, a comprehensive authority on all things Elvis, the King
wore a gold lamé suit for a performance in March 1957.

At the International Amphitheater in Chicago.

The suit was designed by famous clothing artist to the country stars, Nudie
Cohn. Yes, Nudie (go ahead and laugh, it’s fine).

In 1957, gold was $34.95 per troy ounce.

A decade later in 1967 (Elvis was making embarrassing movies singing to racing cars by then) gold was $34.95 per troy ounce.

Is it a coincidence that you made zilch in gold for ten years? Maybe. Maybe not.  Respect history because we do the same stupid things over and over again.

elvis and nudie Elvis and Nudie Cohn.

4). Gold-related kiosks begin popping up in interesting or unusual places. You probably noticed more of them in your nearby mall. Oh and watch out for the gold bar vending machines and gold ATMs. They already exist overseas. And you’ve seen and heard the commercials, so many advertisements to buy gold.

5). You’re beginning to believe the stories how gold always goes up in recessions and depressions. Dr. Robert Prechter, author, financial analyst and founder of Elliot Wave International dulls the shine from this story using historical data. Excerpts from his research that appear in his E-book “Robert Prechter on Gold & Silver” are below.

In 1970, investors lost interest in stocks and preferred owning gold instead. For a period of ten years.

The same sentiment occurred again in 2001. We’re never really that different are we?

In most recessions, gold has been flat or negative in return. The recessions in 1973 and
2001 were good for gold. Only two out of eleven recessions were beneficial for gold.
Ten-year U.S. Treasury notes beat gold during every recession since 1945. T-note provided a capital gain in ten of the eleven recessions and also paid interest. The average
total return in Treasury notes per recession is a full 10 percent, beating both stocks
and gold.

5). Forty year-old nerds who live at home with their parents start blogs about gold.They’re out there. I’ve read them. They are plentiful. Nothing against nerds or blogs, I love both but there are way too many nerds on the same side of the argument.It’s what’s called on Wall Street, “a crowded trade.” It’s like a boat with everyone fishing off the same side. By then the game is about to change.

I’ve been asked my opinion on at least 50 gold blogs in 2010 and 2011 and it went real quiet in 2012. I know for a fact that a majority of those I purveyed are written by unemployed loners who live in their parents’ basements. If they own CB radios I envy them. I envy them a lot.

6). Gold can be hoarded, confiscated (it’s happened already), can’t be valued as an investment (although some get real creative), and doesn’t pay a dividend. You can only make money if you sell it. If you truly have a sell discipline for metal or anything else you own including investments, you’re in the top .1% club as most investors are notoriously lousy at selling or trimming anything of value.

If gold can be hoarded that means you can’t access it. If it backs a paper currency and
it’s hoarded by the few, that means you will have less money to spend on what you
want and need. Governments can come break down your door (figuratively but don’t
test them) and take your gold away which means you should begin investigating an adequate burial place like under a tree. Watch “Shawshank Redemption,” for guidance.

Gold pays you nothing along the way. No income.

You can redeem for liquidity but human nature tells me you’ll wait for a top or at least what you perceive as a top and wind up selling in a panic as it heads lower.

Believe me. You will. We all do it. Money managers are especially guilty.

Gold can’t be valued to indicate whether it’s cheap or expensive. Valuation is based on
fear and uncertainty. Measuring based on those metrics is anybody’s guess.

As master mentor James Altucher said on a segment of CNBC’s “Fast Money,”

“Gold is a rock.” Genius.

If your paper currency, whatever it is, say U.S. dollars, gets stronger, gold and other metals will indeed drop like rocks and dent your net worth. Big dent.


Notice how when dollar is strong UUP), gold is weak. Just keeping it real, here as I abhor charts.

7). You can’t use gold to buy toothpaste. Or anything else. I tried. I was tossed out of Walgreen’s. So those people telling you it’s a “currency” are wrong. I called to subscribe to a newsletter about gold and wanted to pay in gold. The operator and her “manager” told me they won’t accept gold to pay for the newsletter on gold.

8). It’s ok to hold some gold. Or other metals as part of a diversified portfolio. Two to five percent will work. And take your time. Examine GLD and IAU, the exchange-traded funds which actually hold gold bullion.

9). Expect “flash crashes.” In everything. Precipitous, explainable moves in asset prices higher or lower. Thank the Fed for what I call “freakish asset flows” as money strives to seek returns or rapidly avoid losses thus herding and creating big returns (or losses).

We like tangible things. Stuff we can touch and feel. I can intimately caress  my house until the cops get called and take me away for indecent exposure. It doesn’t mean my home is increasing in value. Or that it’s an investment.

A house is wood, concrete, dust (sometimes a rabid raccoon in the attic – true story) and gold is indeed, a rock.

If you remember it.

You’ll be better off.

And richer for it.