40th Wedding Anniversary--No Big Deal

Yesterday was my wife's and my 40th wedding anniversary, and as the title of this post indicates, it was no big deal. It was a big round number, sure, and many people are amazed that a relationship--any relationship-- can last so long.

But for Micky and me, we've never really celebrated our wedding anniversary. Sure, we tend go out to dinner because we use our anniversary as an excuse to splurge on a fantastic dinner at our favorite restaurant--but we'll go to Restaurant Nicholas for any reason anyway because it's just about the finest place on earth.

Our philosophy when it comes to our anniversary is if we have to celebrate it as though it were some kind of difficult to attain milestone, then there's probably something wrong with our relationship. It seems that we've always been a highly compatible couple. We've always enjoyed sharing each other's company, we love being together and in so many ways we are our respective yin and yang.

And it's been this way for about 45 years, when we met in our sophomore year in high school. I knew by the end of my junior year that I was going to spend my life with Micky. And that's what happened. I think most people desire the kind of enduring relationship with a special individual that Micky and I have had with each other and all I can really say to them is you have to be lucky. And we've been lucky.

I met the ideal person, married the ideal person, and it has worked out for us. I don't take credit for this, however. We have no magical formula for a successful marriage--you just have to find the right person at an early age when making right decisions are pretty much hit or miss. Having seen so many promising relationships hit the rocks makes me appreciate that it is truly rare for the stars to align as they have for us. So I've been lucky to have found the right woman and vice versa, just as I noted in an earlier post that we are lucky to have raised a couple of kids who turned out okay.

While there have been disappointments along the way in terms of our respective careers, financial trajectories, and my inability to find a wise publisher for my books, in the important things--we've  been lucky, which plays no small role on how one's life unfolds.

Sure, we'll go to to a plush hotel and a fancy restaurant for our 40th anniversary. But not because we need to celebrate an arbitrary milestone in our relationship, but because we have a perfect excuse to eat a great meal and sleep in fancy linens.

I think everyone deserves to get lucky in love--it's made all the difference in the life of this cynic!

Tom Brady--Go Sit in the Corner!

Tom Brady

The big news today is that superstar quarterback and All American golden boy Tom Brady was suspended for four games by the National Football League for allegedly ordering his staff to prepare under-inflated footballs during the AFC Conference Finals.

The penalty is also costing his team, the New England Patriots, their 2016 #1 draft pick and a fourth round pick the following year, plus $1 million. The hue and cry in the press and social media world has been crazy. People are screaming that Brady got off easy while others are complaining that he's being picked on because he's so perfect and everyone is jealous of his beauty and success.

Since it seems that everyone's unhappy with the NFL's action, my guess is the penalty was just right. Besides, once the Brady penalty is appealed, an impartial arbitrator will probably cut the suspension in half (my guess).

So everyone has an opinion, I figure I'll offer mine. First, Brady's team has a history of cheating--see Spygate 2007, when New England got caught taping videos of opponents' practices, and many thought the Patriots go off easy in the penalty phase.

New England is also known for craftily stretching various rules, especially when designating eligible receivers on passing downs. Plus there's New England owner Robert Craft's cozy relationship with NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell. So many view Deflategate, as it has become known, as a test to see if the NFL is willing to bring the hammer down on the Patriots.

Apologists for Tom Brady insist that he's just being picked on because of who he is and the team he plays for. And it is true that once the balls in Deflategate were inflated to their proper psi in the second half of the AFC Championship, Brady managed to throw four touchdown passes as New Englande trounced Indianapolis. 

It seems to me that the suspension is sound, not only because it appears that Brady cheated and probably in some minor way sought an unfair advantage. But more important, his true offense, in my opinion, was his lack of cooperation with the NFL investigation, including his refusal to turn over emails and texts related to the incident.

I think Brady should have voluntarily submitted this information and the fact that he didn't indicates a superstar's arrogance and tacit admission of guilt. Sure, he had a legal right to limit his cooperation, but the NFL also has the right to suspend players if the evidence suggests serious rule violations. That's why, in this case, I think the NFL ruled appropriately.

Volatility and the Plague of Inconsistency

The concept of volatility has always fascinated me. Volatility from the angle that people constantly change their minds, alter their strategies, reverse their convictions. In the investment industry, volatility is actually a proxy for risk. The more an investment fluctuates, such as movements in stock prices, the riskier the investment is considered.

I am not a particularly volatile person. I do change my mind, but usually after careful consideration or from a desire to be less dull than usual and to inject a little drama into my life. I seldom make last minute changes when the waiter comes to take my dinner order, whereas certain people I know will ask a zillion questions, make a decision and then change it three times before the waiter is allowed to commit it to writing. I see no particular benefit in being so indecisive since these people make as many ordering mistakes as I do, but expend far more energy doing so.

Thus the fluctuations of the stock market interest me. The other day the Dow Jones went down a couple of hundred points--a big sell-off due to concerns caused when the Federal Reserve chief commented that she thought stock prices to "be a bit on the high side" and a temporary concern about growth prospects in the economy. All the worry warts rushed to sell off their stocks to buy relatively safer bonds. But they'll be back in the stock market in the next week or so when their fear subsides and their greed increases.

Financial markets often go haywire over short periods of time, but history shows that frequent traders who respond to every herk and jerk of the Dow almost always lose in the long run. Most of them know that market timing doesn't work but they do it anyway. Action based on volatility is almost always counterproductive unless you are the rare individual who functions best in a crisis. Most of us do not and thus slow, steady, decisive, and boring is usually the most profitable route. And to certain people who are not me and are excitable by nature, I say save your excitement for theme parks, casinos, and computer games. Investment markets reward boring behavior.

(But do note: There is some academic truth to the Wall Street adage of "Sell in May and go away." Markets usually do poorly in May through September and recover in the final quarter. Why? How should I know?)

Jammin' with Roger McGuinn and the 10,000 Hour Rule

Roger McGuinn

Last week I had the opportunity to play guitar with the legendary front man of the Byrds, Roger McGuinn (Mr. Tambourine Man, Turn Turn Turn, Eight Miles High, Knockin' on Heaven's Door, etc.). It was part of a workshop that my new buddy Roger led that began with a PowerPoint chronicling his career and ending with him leading a guitar circle with me and about 40 other guys.

Of course it was great fun to play with a rock immortal, but we did get a chance to ask him how he got so good at guitar. His answer: "I started practicing 8 hours a day from the age of 15."

Funny that: it was the exact same answer I got when I asked another brilliant local guitarist by the name of Doug Mikula who said: "I practiced about eight hours a day from the age of 12."

This reminded me of a theory espoused by Malcolm Gladwell that essentially says that it takes about 10,000 hours to master anything that requires a high level of skill, whether it involves learning a musical instrument, a foreign language, or even brain surgery.

So, if Roger McGuinn practiced 8 hours a day from the age of 15, that would make him a guitar virtuoso in approximately 3.5 years. What's interesting is that Mr. McGuinn signed his first professional contract at the age of 17, but he had pretty much mastered an original style on banjo and guitar by the age of 19.

I think the moral of the story is one of commitment. Doing anything as difficult as learning an instrument, cutting and suturing human tissue, or hitting a baseball takes a level of discipline and patience that few can muster.

It also explains why I will never be a great guitarist. I picked up the guitar again about 10 years ago after letting my gorgeous Martin D-19 sit in a closet for 30 years. I play at most an hour a day--usually less, because I get frustrated by fingers' lack of obedience to what my brain tells them to do. I don't have the patience to practice 8 hours a day--it would drive me insane.

By that reckoning, I've practiced about 3,000 hours over the last 10 years. At that rate, it will take me another 24 years to become a virtuoso guitarist. By that time I will be in my 80s and my fingers will probably have become gnarly arthritic stumps.

However, if you believe in the 10,000-hour rule, it can give you hope that you can accomplish anything if you love it enough to put in the time. Writing is about the only thing that I've done for more than 10,000 hours, and it's worked out okay for me.

The Downside of Adulthood

Many things diminish as you grow out of childhood. Childhood is the unfiltered you. The pure wants, the joys, the sorrows, the selfishness, and aggression are clean and expressed 100 percent. The rest of your life (I'll use "your" in this context to refer to "all of us"), is a matter of herding and wrangling and controlling the primitive surge of emotions and desires.

Wasn't it cool when we could just grab the crayon out of little sister's hand when our project required yellow? Wasn't it satisfying at the age of 4 to yell out to your mom "I hate you!" and get away with it? To sing out loud, to punch your friend Nick in the face, to violently disagree with Daddy when it was time to go to bed to eat your corn to tie your shoes to shut...your...mouth?

Adulthood is about self-control--not to say what is on your mind to your boss or your spouse, not to sock the guy in front of you who is making a left turn without signaling, not to argue with the umpire who calls you out even though you beat the throw by a foot, not to call your neighbor a moron when he or she is behaving like one. 

Is adulthood nothing more or less an ever-tightening noose of repression?

There are mitigating circumstances--you do tend to get wiser and more adept with age, and driving cool cars and drinking cold martinis are decent benefits. But they hardly compensate for the lost freedom of childhood, which excuses behaviors that are innately human yet must be effectively stifled to maintain a civilized coexistence.

By now, however, I've kinda forgotten what real freedom is like, locked into behaviors and mindsets that make me a responsible adult. It's tragic and unfulfilling in many ways. But then, at age 61, could I truly handle the intensity of a renewed childhood?

Hillary Clinton and Jeb Bush

So the greatest democracy in the world and the best it can come up with are...Hillary Clinton and Jeb Bush? How did we get to that place--where both presumed candidates for the highest office in the land are legacies from days gone by? Should we replace inaugurations with coronations? Do we face a future in which Chelsea Clinton will face off against Jenna Bush?

Is the candidate pool that thin. Yes it is. 

In an age in which Congress can't get out of its own way to, you know, actually make laws and the Supreme Court is politicized to the point of ineffectuality, the presidency faces its own crisis.

But that's the state of American politics. It's a game of money and connections, and having a built-in brand like the Clintons and Bushes makes it easier to raise the billions of dollars it takes to run a national campaign. Thus the uninspired choices that likely face U.S. voters 19 months from now.

The radical Republicans who have announced so far will undoubtedly be overwhelmed by the Bush juggernaut once it gets cranking and it's unlikely that Hillary will face any serious opposition--both parties have weak farm systems and America can't seem to escape the stranglehold of a two-party system. Of course Ralph Nader will probably run again...

This is not to say that Hillary and Jeb are unworthy of the presidency. But wouldn't it be nice if some relative unknown with blazingly amazing credentials rose up to challenge the Establishment? The fact that Obama  was able to come out of nowhere eight years ago seems beyond extraordinary today.

Well, Marco Rubio?

(Sigh, it's going to be a long, dull campaign.)

Oldest Guy in the Room

It doesn't seem that long ago that I was usually among the youngest people in my department or company. Everyone else seemed so much older--grayer, paunchier, more mature, set in their ways. Kids, grandkids, and so forth. I generally deferred to their 20 or 30 years of experience, assuming that they learned things along the way that would help me do my job better and faster.

And now, suddenly, I am that guy. I am the oldest person in my department of about 30 workers. I'm the guy with 30 years of experience and, one would think, the person with the accrued wisdom of having been there and done that millions of times.

Today, a couple of the people in my department are as young as my oldest daughter. My boss and department head are at least 10 years my junior. For the most part, my team looks like a bunch of kids. How did that happen? When did it happen?

I look young for my age and keep myself in shape, so people are shocked when I tell them how long I've worked for the company. But one thing I've noticed is how disinterested they are when it comes to seeking advice.

My 20-, 30-, and 40-year-old coworkers seldom come to me for ideas and suggestions, as though my experience is useless to them. I'm fairly good at my job and would be able to offer some tips to help others work more effectively and efficiently. But for some reason, my coworkers are not inclined that way.

This doesn't bother me in the least, since my experience enables me to master and complete  my work in a fraction of the time it would take others. My experience also enables me to coast through my days as I watch others struggle and suffer with their projects.

While I've often suggested ways to potentially achieve better results, those in charge insist on doing things their way--often to a fault.  I'm curious why experience is undervalued in my workplace. Maybe it takes experience to appreciate experience.