A full day still tuckers me ten years after my first heart attack. I started out too early last day and had to get home for nappies. Today, I’ll strike out in mid-afternoon so I catch the early evening downtown. Return later for my adventures, if any. Meanwhile, here is a photo from the railway workshop that makes me look like I weigh more than the “hammer” I’m looking at. (There was a strong breeze in the building that fluffed my clothes as the timer went off.)So let me tally up what I’ve spent so far. Once I get off the road, which gobbles $39 per day in gasoline (average), my largest expense becomes accommodation. The free breakfast at the Inn at Mulberry Grove takes the morning pressure off finding a restaurant and is clearly a popular offering. I’m spending around $20 per day on museums and another $20 on things like snacks, poking around, and light entertainment. I’m more likely to visit the library than the symphony, so by the end of my fourth day since leaving, I’ve spent less than $500 total.
Other than said expensive food, I may have done Savannah. There’s a few more museums I’d like to see, but I’ll pass on the art gallery unless boredom overtakes. I was surprised to see how small the famous arts college was. What? You didn’t know the “largest” art college in the world is in Savannah? That’s right, without knowing it you’ve probably seen countless examples since they do most corporate work. I asked around if there was a larger campus somewhere, but folks said I was looking at it. It appears to be a two-block long brick shed in an industrial park.
This, I asked myself, graduates 30,000 students per year? I have got to be seeing something wrong. Nobody spends that much tuition (reputed to be upwards of $50,000 per year). I walked half-way past it before seeing all the bicycles and then noticing the students were, on average, twice the age of students at any college I ever went to. It spells rich kid’s playground. Can anyone enlighten me?
Downtown it was by 1:00 PM, blasting down roads I’m already familiar with. See below for details, but a shop owner sent me out to Tybee Island for a pizza break. If you can find Huckapoo’s, that’s where you want to eat. Look it up, you’ll get lost following directions. It is at the end of a dirt driveway in the arts district as soon as you hit town. Get a single slice, as shown here I’d sliced it in half before thinking to photograph the goods. This, with a glass of sweet tea, $5 bucks.Used books stores are hard to find in this town. I found The Book Lady on Liberty, who gave directions to a decent coffee house on Bull and Park. I was already tired when I arrived and can’t recall the name of the café. They have a guy in the corner who looks like he’s setting up to play guitar but never does.
I stopped to see Ft. Jackson, but didn’t enter. It’s a small river fort with brick walls. I have a theory that whoever builds a fort from brick must be working for the enemy. It was one of several places I stopped for five-ten minutes. Yes, I met people, yes, girl people, so you get one paragraph on that, guys. One.
So far, I’ve found the women of Savannah to be sluggish at decisions. I understand that for single older women, saying yes to a new man is synonymous with making an exception to life’s hard lessons. That’s why I don’t use the direct approach. Instead, I extend every opportunity for the slightest positive response. Naturally, I want the sharp gal who knows it is her move. Instead, I detect emotional conflicts and all I get back is polite enthusiasm. That’s where I call it off. Asking once is asking, asking twice is begging. It’s not my fault they got hurt twenty years ago. Sigh, there was one today who’ll never know how close she came.
The remainder of today is pablum, things written just for the record. There is a tornado warning in Florida, would it not be great to be stranded here? Then again, driving around on the motorcycle has been more fun than most of Savannah. And I’m already experiencing a slowdown in this town’s entertainment. Like the architecture after a while, the music begins to lack a certain diversity. Worse, I’ve got jet-lag, something not covered in this blog since I used to travel to S. America every few months. I walked into a door-frame, turned my own ankle, and you know how I have two toothbrushes? One red and one blue, the blue one is for cleaning the blades on my razor. Let me tell you the blue one tastes funny.
My travel plan is flexible, I’m now thinking of taking a different route back than the high-speed run down I-95. Though I’m comfortable at the Inn at Mulberry Grove and their well-planned complimentary breakfast, this is a college town to the bone. They [college kids with too much spending money] tend to dominate the night life in the fun sections of town. Like this one bar, Wet Willies, where the band that was lampooning 1970s music. Maybe three people in the whole place caught on it was satire—-and they thought me being older, I didn’t like it. Hell no, the Stones deserve ridicule. Ruby Tuesday, indeed, what’s that booger song all about?
ADDENDUM
There it is, silver drops to the lowest since late 2010. Of course it has my attention as I hope for some panic selling to drive the price down, hopefully below $20.00. These multiples of $5.00 are psychological "sell" points and [the price] was as low as $22.91 about an hour ago. Will this give ‘em the willies? Come on, you dunces, sell now as fast as you can and cut your losses. I’ll even take it off your hands.
Mentioning silver is always great for my ratings, so allow me. It is easier to trade than gold and more recognizable to the lower classes. I do not yet possess a “critical mass”, the amount that makes day-trading profitable. My only “system” right now is buy low-sell high. This makes for the mentally unnatural decisions to buy when prices are dropping while others are biting their nails waiting for the “low”. And to sell on the way up while others pray for the “high”. It is amazing how many people can be so clueless, since neither point can be known until it is too late to pick it.
The next logical question is what is the size of the critical mass? My best guess is between 450 and 550 ounces of the real thing. This is based on my own calculations, which are totally unofficial. Sure, I’ll tell you how it works, in general, but I do NOT have anywhere near enough silver to do this like I used to. There are other factors, such as lifestyle and contingency matters that must be set right to isolate silver from any vagaries in your life. The silver becomes a buffer, not a checking account. This ability to not view the investment as money is what lets many rich people stay rich.
Work it like so. Watch for a trend, like the falling trend over the previous weeks. Do nothing until it drops. You are seeking a ten percent drop in one or two days or a more gradual ten percent drop steady over a week. For each ten percent decline, purchase twenty ounces out of cash reserves. At some point, the trend reverses. Same plan, wait for a quick ten percent rise [while] doing nothing. But after that, sell twenty ounces at each incremental bracket. When the market is steady, you can draw on any cash surplus generated. It is up to you to carefully watch what is surplus, but no matter how difficult the calculation, it is easier than working for a living. (I allow for a 5% annual increase in working capital, anything after that is profit.)
“Fine”, I hear somebody in the back row thinking. Now explain the 450 ounce minimum. Well, that gets trickier. Unlike most investors including the successful ones, I presume that at some point in the future, you are going to want out of the game. How’s that for forward thinking? Not only is 450 ounces enough to ride out all “ten percent” episodes with enough left over to recover in the event of a disaster that wipes out the proles, but with 450 ounces, you only need one good hit to retire. So there.
Except, I have not stated how much you need to retire. You need $710,000 and the brains to keep it safely invested well away from the markets and metals. If you must know, real estate rentals are looming back into prominence. The sad news is, the system could have taught you all of this back in grade six.
Later, which means 12:17 PM in this instance, I found the last nine one-ounce silver bars in Savannah, at a shop called Regal. It’s a most unlikely store in the middle of a residential street with parking ten feet in front of the door. The proprietor and I are on the same wavelength and he knows the city. That’s how I found Huckapoo’s.He reports the run began Friday and confirms what I thought before—that around forty serious players can tie up the silver market in a city the size of Savannah. (I have nothing to worry about in Broward as there are not forty smart men in the entire county.) I put in an order for all the bars he [Regal]could get, but nothing by closing time. These are the lowest prices I’ve paid for silver since I began this series in 2011. That’s $24 per ounce. The dealers use a different price list than what you find on-line. My landed cost is $26 per ounce. Remember the bar charge [that has to be paid] when figuring your costs.
