Sallying Forth With Not A Clue…

I know just a hair more than zip about the stock market, and being half of a married couple that owns a few, I thought it was about time I learned something about what our money is doing down there on Wall Street.

Husband watches those stock programs on TV, where neo-yuppies in shirtsleeves and club ties and slicked-back hair (who look like they’d be just as comfortable zooming through a half-pipe as they would on the trading floor) pronounce what’s hot and what’s not. But the language it’s couched in, to me, is not like anything I learned in school resembling English. I tune in for a while, until my head starts spinning around. I might as well be watching one of those Spanish soap operas, for all I’m getting out of it.

The poor, patient dear has tried to explain a few things to me (like why you can’t buy or sell when the market isn’t open), and that’s where the “hair more than zip” occurred. Another hair wired its way into my grey matter when one of the TV stock guys – the one who screams so much I fear he’s going to have a coronary on the air – had a special show for neophytes explaining how to pick a stock and what separates a good stock from a bad stock and how to develop a stomach for risk. But I still didn’t feel like I had enough practical knowledge.

And now I have a chance. CNBC, one of the financial networks, is running a contest. You sign up, they give you a million dollars in fake money to play with, they let you buy and sell stocks as you please, and whoever has the most money in May wins a real million.

So I can get my feet wet without risking a penny of our own nest egg.

But boy, am I out of my element. All these armchair traders, all these people who actually know what they’re doing are in this thing, and there’s me, the one who took a double major in college so I wouldn’t have space left to take things that gave me hives, like economics.

Now I wish I’d used a few credits on that subject.

But I started. First I dipped a toe in the water, bought a couple of companies that I knew about. And made nothing for my efforts, as well as barely knocked a dent into my million. “No,” Husband said. “You have to get more aggressive. It’s not your money, so go crazy.”

Crazy. Hah. Anyone who knows me knows that “crazy” I am not. I am safe. I am secure. I am the stock market equivalent of a retired schoolmarm spending her Saturday night rocking in her chair with the thermostat turned down to save a few pennies.

But I watched a couple of shows the network aired for people in the contest, with a few recommended strategies and suggestions for stock picks. And then I went back to work. And in just a couple of days, I’d spent a million bucks. Still hadn’t made any money, but I was on my way. And now I’ve crossed the line into the top fifty per cent of traders and I’m buying and selling like a pro.

Well, a fake pro. But at least it’s a start. I don’t expect to win, but when I’m done with the contest, maybe I’ll be able to read and watch financial news without a translator.

Meanwhile, anyone got a good stock pick?