EXIT STRATEGY AND SOME MUSINGS

Musings of a Cut Man

Just waiting

Lying here in my hotel room waiting to go down to breakfast with trainer and fighter. It's Saturday, 6-8-13. Got a fight later today at Home Depot Center in Compton.

There are 11 fights, all outside. We're scheduled to go in around 4 or 5. But they make you show up hours early. So there's a lot of waiting. Usually the night before go to a movie. Saw decent one last night, The Internship, a comedy. Good to have some laughs.

You want your fighter relaxed, rested and ready. The three Rs. And they ain't readin', 'ritin' and 'rithmetic.

Walking back to hotel saw one of those white big Ford F 150 jobs. Ford has made a decent comeback. It reminded me of you. Think you had one of those once. Maybe still do. 

Anyway, brought to mind a piece I wrote a while back while I was waiting. Here it is. 

Many of us aren't grateful enough.

We don't fully grasp the importance of gratitude. It's such an easy, simple take-it-for granted thing.

No, this isn't going to be another of those motivational pieces that makes you feel great for the next 30 seconds or until your IBS flares up again. This is much more serious.

Country songs, especially the slower ones, usually tell a story. Often a heart-ripping one.

A few years ago on the backroads of my more energetic youth I first learned about the magical power of gratitude. I'll try to make this brief and not too heavy or sad.

Me and my significant other, as they say, had tried and tried and tried.Things got bad, they got worse and I had no idea what to do. Then one day driving home from work in my big white Ford F-150 with the Montana mud flaps, moose antlers on the hood and the empty gun rack in the back, I heard it on the radio for the first time, a song about a guy and his significant other.

Like us they had tried and tried. He grit his teeth, tried not to complain. While she continued to spend money like it was so much falling rain. And one day without warning or cause she announced it was pack-up the suitcase time. 

He sounded more than sad as he walked her to the door and she said she wasn't coming back anymore.

He tossed her bags in the truck and headed for the bus station. After he dropped her off, he just sat there in silence until the bus slowly pulled out of sight. 

That's when it really hit him. It was finally final. She was gone. Every time I think about that song it makes me appreciate gratitude even more. Especially the chorus: "Thank God and Greyhound. You're gone."

For me it was Amtrac. And all I can say is, thank God and Joe Biden for government subsidies.

So here's an investing tip. Make sure your exit strategy's in place. But it's mobile. You can move it. If it goes off, be grateful you have some cash to get a better position. If you miss it, so what.

Opportunities are a lot like IBS. You never know when they're going to show up. But you always have to be ready. 

Ok old friend when you find work, drop me a line.