It's happening all across the country this month: Someone goes to the mailbox, opens a letter and emits a noise that makes horror movie screams sound lethargic.
AIIIIIGGGHHHEEEOHMYLORDOHMYLORDRAAIIGHBLEARGH.
The culprit: Quarterly 401(k) statements. The sound comes from the horror people feel when they realize that at the stock market's current rate, they won't be able to retire until they reach 136 years of age.
I am one of those people who's been screaming like a banshee with a tarantula on my nose, but thankfully, my screams have been muffled by two factors: One, I am only 27 years old, meaning I wasn't planning on retiring for a while anyway, even though I'd like to; and two, I only had about $1,700 in my 401(k) in the first place. So, this recent retching by the stock market hasn't given me the heart palpitations experienced by many.
Actually, the stock market is a fairly new thing for me to be truly worried about. My folks have never had 401(k) plans or investments, meaning they didn't pass along any stock market-related angst to me. My first relationship with stocks came in middle school, when all of us in my history class had to pick a stock and "invest" fake money in it.
Because I was an eighth-grade boy, I chose to invest in Topps, a baseball card company. My stock did OK; after a few months, I earned a little money, although I probably spent more REAL money on Topps baseball cards during that time, making the deal a wash, at best. I don't remember what student's company made the most money during that time, but for some weird reason, I do remember that a girl in my class who invested in Reebok lost the most . My theory is that the shoe company lost money during that period of time because of a temporary panic over the fact that "Reebok" is a silly name that sounds like the painful noise a hen makes while laying a particularly large egg.
My second experience in the stock market came in high school and college, when I worked for Toys "R" Us. They had a stock purchase program, and I bought 12 shares over several months. At one point, money got tight, and I decided to sell the stocks. Because of dumb luck, I happened to sell the stocks within several cents of their all-time high. Within a year, they were worth about half of that. This taught me a valuable lesson: The stock market makes no damn sense whatsoever.
A company can keep doing the same thing, and just because some investors get spooked -- by terrorism, by political changes, by the realization that we live in a country that has made "Jerry Springer" a bona fide hit -- the company's "value" can plummet. Likewise, just because investors sprout boners over some company, its "value" can skyrocket, even if the company in question does nothing but spend money while its executives intensely scratch themselves. This explains the Internet boom of the mid-late 1990s, as well as a 62 percent increase in the sales of backscratchers during that time.
Despite this realization that the stock market is manic, I didn't hesitate when I was asked about participating in a company 401(k) plan. After all, the company was matching a percentage, and the economy was doing great. What did I have to lose?
Well, of course, this was before the 2000 presidential election, Sept. 11, and the realization that companies like Enron and WorldCom have accounting practices modeled on old episodes of "Benny Hill." (I know that makes no sense, but you get the point.) And I learned that I did have something to lose, namely, money,
But I keep telling myself: I am young, I don't have that much money invested, and the market has to get better. Doesn't it?
I also realize that I am lucky, and many, many people out there can't say those first two things. And they're left worrying.
The market has to get better. It has to.
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan who wishes old episodes of "Benny Hill" were on more often. Jimmy's column appears here Tuesdays, and a column archive can be viewed at www.jimmyboegle.com.