Perception of time is a strange thing. Time moves so slowly when we’re young. My son can’t believe his luck when he’s rewarded an extra fifteen minutes of screen time, but that all changes as we age. I feel panicked if I have less than an hour to get anything done, and feel hopeless trying to find the 45 minutes required to watch an episode on Netflix.

And here I am, looking back at the letters we’ve sent out over this past year. We sent three separate pieces in March of 2020, right in the midst of the pandemonium. It has only been a year, and although I would normally remark on how quickly a year goes by, it has been a loooong year.

I grew up a “gamer.” I was right there at the beginning. I remember playing Atari video games, including Pong, at four years old with Mom, her sister, and the neighbor next door. I thought it was the best day of my life when Mom and Dad got me a Nintendo for my birthday (yes, just Nintendo… the original). I spent the next many months playing Super Mario Brothers (again, just Super Mario Brothers).

The year 2020 was a doozy. I am hoping it was such a doozy that you all would just as soon not subject me, or yourselves, to a tortuous recounting of it. Most of the market and economy forecasts I’ve read lately start with a detailed play-by-play recounting. I will try to keep my own recount short and strictly related to market investing.

Well, we have almost reached the end of this wildly frustrating year. Christmas is right around the corner, and I’m hoping all of you are able to spend some time with family, whether in person or through connections from a distance. I’m also hopeful that 2021 will shine a little brighter than 2020 and be a little easier for all of us.

As most of you know, just like Dad, I am pretty tall. I am 6-foot-8, however my doctor, the practical man that he is, would cough and correct that to 6-foot-7-and ½. Tall people share a kinship in this world, as do all people with specific similarities. I recently saw a joke for tall people posted by a friend on Facebook. It was linked to the very popular Mandalorian series, hinting that there is a certain code shared by tall people, and it was spot on. It said, “As a tall person I cannot offer to reach something on a high shelf for a stranger, yet if they ask me I must oblige. This is the law of the giants.” Tall people get this right away… it is offensive for us to proactively offer that help because of what it insinuates, but if we don’t help when requested we seem mean.

The first time I got a big cut over my left eye, I was in the first or second grade and was attending Ebenezer Avenue Elementary. The second time I got a big cut over my left eye, I was in the third or fourth grade, and early in my Richmond Drive Elementary school days. Both instances involved a lot of blood, a lot of fear, and a lot of stitches. I was scared both times, and each time I worried I’d lost an eye. Now think about the fear my mom had when her sweet little boy came running at her holding his head with blood running down his face… her sweet, little, stupid boy that not only almost lost an eye twice, but basically the same eye, and in the same spot. Fear can quickly turn to anger in cases like that.