Monday, July 22, 1996
Foreign Investments in Indiana
or
Fools on the Fjord
by TMF Runkle

Some time ago, I read most of Jimmy Rogers' book, "Investment Biker." He has an interesting viewpoint on the world and I enjoyed the book very much. He traveled in places that only P.J. O'Rourke would dare go (read "Holidays in Hell," a must for a world traveler). He traveled through Russia, China, Peru (where he had a close call with Shining Path guerrillas), and many other exotic countries. In each of these places he asked a question that only a person with the courage of my wife could formulate. "Where's the Stock Market?"

Every single place was appraised for its investment value. Not the usual investments mind you, but the exotic types Jimmy Rogers likes, such as Wool Futures in New Zealand. Kind of intimidating, especially when you consider he actually makes a lot of money this way. In this vein, I figured I could try the same. This past week, I traveled to two exotic places, Norway and Indiana.

Indiana is located somewhere near the center of the United States. To get there, you have to make a long and dangerous trip down I-70. Rest stops can be as much as two hours apart, as many a coffee-drinking traveler has discovered to his or her dismay. Many vehicles break down on this hazardous trip, and the poor occupants are robbed by evil organized gangs called "repair shops." My trip was difficult, too. The McDonald's was crowded, and tempers between my two sons reached a murderous pitch. Only the intervention of my wife saved them from killing each other.

Nobody knew if Indiana had a stock market or not. Nor did they seem to care. There was a discussion of futures, though. Much of the farmland is family owned, a lot of times with joint ownership of several relatives. One woman I spoke to told me the crop on her farm was sold on the futures market by her brother. I can't really write what she said about the whole deal, though, without getting a Terms of Service violation. Maybe speculation on the futures market is better left to Jimmy Rogers.

A couple of days later, my older son and I flew to Bodo, Norway. We went "space available" on a military aircraft, which is one of the benefits of being active duty military. "Space A" is the ultimate in no-frills flying. You carry your own bag, there are no windows on the plane, no meals, and the plane isn't well insulated. You need to wear earplugs and a coat. It's free, though.

Bodo is above the arctic circle, and achieved fame in the Cold War when it was determined that Francis Gary Powers' U-2 was headed there before it was shot down. I didn't see any stock market in town, and I was more interested in finding the "WC." The index hamburger-coke-and-french-fry-meal was $10 a person. There is no McDonald's in Bodo, but Coca Cola is popular. Since the nearest McDonald's I knew of is in Oslo, which everybody knows is about as far from Bodo as Indiana, we ate at a local hamburger stand and forked over the money.

The leading tourist attraction in Bodo is the "Salt Stream." Here the fjord narrows to a tight channel which causes a strong whirlpool as the tides go in and out. The water is Tidy-Bowl blue, which gives the whole thing the appearance of a giant toilet flushing. It brought penny stocks to my mind. (Flush that money right down the toilet!) I gave up on the idea of finding their stock market, and my son and I went fishing with Captain Haugen of the Norwegian Army instead.

Ultimately, my travels had nothing to do with investments, or anything else for that matter. We just went to have fun. Sometimes that's Foolish enough by itself.

Transmitted: 7/22/96