How in the hell does a responsible blogger respond properly to comments? I sure dunno. I have mostly refrained from adding my comments under my commenters' comments because, how do you know if a commenter will come back to see if you have responded to their remarks? Also.....to be honest, it is too much trouble and trouble-making....if I only answer certain comments - that shows favoritism.....and if I have to answer each and every....well, I don't always have the strength, the time or the inspiration. Yet, certain comments do cry out for a response......like some recent ones remarking on the fact that, since I have stated that I hate selling,how could I be tripping the light fantastic and having so much fun as a seller of them there Stock Options I wrote about a few blogs back?
Well, my dears, I understand your puzzlement, but I assure you I did not lie. If I had to go door to door to sell the options like I did with the Liberty Magazines my Pappy sent me out with, and confront my buyers face to face, my new career would have died before it was even born.
I feel compelled to explain that the electronics age and the Options System in no way involve me with live people of any kind.....(to GTChristie....no, not even Stock Brokers.) It is just anonymous Me and my trusty computer flinging Buy/Sell Tickets into cyberspace. Somehow by some miracle they they fall into the correct slot at Scottrade (my Brokerless Brokerage House) and are forwarded electronically to the Option Pits on Wall Street by some magic or other. I do believe there are live people there making all sorts of esoteric and possibly obscene gestures signalling "buy" and "sell" processing orders....maybe mine.....but that is so far removed from my world as to be a totally different and parallel universe.
Neither the buyer nor the seller have any faces in this little drama so I do not have to feel any guilt about the fact that I may be taking money from a misguided human being somewhere on the planet (yes, this could even be a trader in, say, Iran or North Korea) who has been electronically assigned to participate in my transaction. (And, by the same token that person need feel no guilt if the trade goes against me and I have to give the money back or sell my stock to them as part of the bargain. No brokers, no victims, no defrauded widows or orphans and no gloating triumphant Wall Street Sleasebags.............it is all so clean, nay, antiseptic that no one ever dirties a pinkie. Can you believe?
If I think about it too much I am not sure if I can believe, but this is what makes it possible for me to be a seller of Options with such gay abandon. Is that now perfectly clear? I certainly hope so.
That is really all I wanted to clarify right now......Wednesdays (today is one of those) and Sundays are odd days for me. My trusty Flo is off on these days and that means I am on my own, at the mercy of brutish cats, hummingbirds, squirrels and the occasional naggy mourning dove. Stinky litter boxes cry out to be cleaned. whereas, when I cry out for my breakfast or morning meds no one answers or provides me with anything. It is only my grim satisfaction in being able to still take care of these things if necessary that makes these days bearable. I sometimes think I may have been better off before the age of 82, when the broken hip forced me to discover that being able to do everything for ones' self is not all it's cracked up to be and that, deep down in my soul, I had always wanted to be waited on hand and foot.
Well, the honest truth is I haven't quite managed to achieve that.....in fact most of yesterday I found myself chopping veggies and stirring huge cauldrons of stuff making Florence a gallon or two of her favorite Lentil Vegetable Soup. Sigh. My dreams of having gourmet meals prepared for me have been dashed. Florence is no cook..........sob. However, she is great at washing up.
Ya' takes whatcha can get, I guess.
The New Yorker covers: June 29, 2015
8 hours ago
You just give me so much hope for a future that is still filled with learning and doing and humor and LIFE! Keep on with it all, Woman. And tell us about it.
ReplyDeleteWhat an explanation of options trading. I can't remember from the paragraph to the comment box. I used to say of an artist I roomed with on the road, she's ten years older than I am, drives as big a van and pulls a trailer. I am equally in awe of you and you have another four years on my other hero, Lucy.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I get so mired in my own private misery that I forget to come over here and get my daily shot of cheering up. Be thankful you can still do some for yourself. The alternative can be to have more and more done for you so inevitably become less able to do even if you wanted.
ReplyDeleteHaving been forced to sell door to door as a kid, i agree. The only way i would do it would be anonymously.
ReplyDeleteAs for Flo, it's good to have someone else clean up after you cook. Ask how i know.;)
Having gimpy hips can really slow a gal down! I've had both hips replaced, thankfully I didn't have a fracture, just dysplasia and osteoarthritis. I wish I had your computer savvy to turn the time spent online into cash!
ReplyDeleteYou have the soul of an adventurer, and I think it's great that you have plunged into this new career.
ReplyDeletethere must be some sort of apparatus that has a timer and then dispenses a pre-filled quantity of cat food into the cat bowl at 6 am.
ReplyDeleteWhat I'd really like is someone to fix my hair, daily. Do you think that will ever happen?
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine breaking a hip. I may find out some day. I turned 50 just a month ago and have been reflecting on the differences in the ages that I've already been. What will come?
Pearl
I try to respond to comments because...I don't know...I think it is the thing to do. And I start of diligently, then sorta' slowly fade away. Maybe my attention span isn't up to snuff.
ReplyDeleteI never had a clue about Options Trading....still don't, but now I can at least smile knowingly at the subject.