Tuesday, April 29, 1997
Getting
Soaked
by
Norm
DePlume
I love the "Dumbest Investment" folder here at the Fool. The lessons you can learn on that board are profound, and the fortitude it takes to come right out and say things like "I invested my spouse's inheritance in Hungarian beet futures" is pretty humbling. So, in the spirit of painful personal disclosures I've worked up the courage to tell you about Howie's Hot Tubs -- my dumbest investment. My worst nightmare.
It was 1979, which I remember was one of those "Brady years." Disco was hot, and a local character named Howie had a dance club on the east side that for about two weeks was THE place to be, if you dressed like John Travolta and thought daiquiris were hip. I hated it, and only went there once with a friend who knew Howie. After closing that night, Howie invited us to his place for a soak. "This is nice," I said, lounging back into the bubbles of Howie's spa. "Nice?!?" Howie snapped back, "Man, this is the future!"
I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that Howie convinced me hot tubs were the future, and the next thing I knew we were partners, me and him, with a little storefront down on East 7th. Howie had the drive and the connections; I had some money. Howie had the answers; unfortunately, I didn't have too many questions. I sunk everything I'd saved into those tubs.
I have to admit, we had some fun with my money, especially with the advertising. I'd buy an ad in the paper I worked for, and Howie would round up a bunch of beautiful girls. We'd all sit around soaking and raising champagne glasses while Ed, from Display Ads, took photos. Ed would leave and we'd all get drunk. It was almost glamorous, in a 1970's kind of way. Then one day I checked the Yellow Pages to make sure our glamorous photos had made it in. Nope. All I saw were listings for about 160 other hot tub dealers. Next I eyed our books, and noticed we were selling our inventory at something of a discount. "Well, the market's kinda saturated," said Howie, who went on to explain market share... stuff like that. It wasn't long after that that Howie skedaddled to Mexico, and I got to take a meeting with our bankers. Ouch.
These days I don't dwell on the past, and I make it a point to look on the bright side. They say a business degree at a good university will cost a person about $80,000. I guess I got off cheap. And what I learned, they don't teach anywhere except in classroom's like Howie's, and maybe here in The Motley Fool. Yeah, the "Dumbest Investment" folder on the Talk with the Editors board is my kind of place... my kind of people. Make room for one more, fools, and pass me a towel.
Norm (not my real name), a Fool
p.s. That is a true story.
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