Airing A Grievance

“I’ve got a lot of problems with you people and now you’re gonna hear about it.” --Frank Costanza, Festivus Airing of Grievances

Happy Festivus!

I have one hobby-related grievance to air this Festivus. If you are an investor, or you are a collector who cares about the value of your collection, you must own that shit. Nothing reads falser to me than when someone who plunks big money into their collection and isn’t uber-rich claims to be a Simon-pure collector who doesn’t care about money. Sure. I know a few collectors who have megabux and truly spend what they spend for fun, and bless them, but that ain’t most of us. Unless you are so bloody rich that you never have to worry about a thing no matter what you spend, proclaiming that you don’t care about money is just a load of bullshit, and we all know it, so cut it out.

I love collecting, and I love my collection, but I am just a middle-class guy, so I have to pay attention to what it is worth. If someone offered me enough money for my collection, I would not only sell it without a second thought, I would also help carry it to his car and load it in. Then I would start all over again with some of the proceeds…because I really do enjoy collecting.

Collect because you enjoy it. Invest because you want to make money. Mix the two and admit it, and don’t say something so obviously false just because it fits the image you want to project. Trust me, if you are trying to about project an image, you aren’t fooling anyone.

I am taking a little time this holiday season to reflect on what 2022 has taught me. For me, it is yet again discovering that the lessons I learned in the hobby apply to the rest of life. I lost both of my parents in three months this year. Funerals are expensive. I mean, I thought it was costly to live in LA but dying here, OMG. Yet, when the funeral people came at me with the guilt guns blazing at full force to try and manipulate me into to overspending on the funerals, my card negotiating lessons kicked right in. I had a huge battle with the funeral director over flowers. My father literally wrote “no flowers” on his funeral plan but getting the mortuary to honor that and not try to guilt me into a four-figure flower package? Harder than convincing that cop that I was peeing on the roadside because I have a bladder condition.

So, take some time this holiday season to pet your wife, hug your dog, smell and stop the roses. I’m taking off the next weekend so see you next year.