Ghosted for a Year and Now???

 Over a year ago, I was having breakfast meetings with a couple of guys that I was looking to join if the stars aligned.

After being ghosted for a couple of months, I figured that they had moved in another direction, but they didn't even bother to call me to let me know.

Then, a few months ago, I got a text from one of the guys asking how I was. Needless to say, it took me back a bit. I was cordial and responded that I was keeping busy, followed by a good to hear type of response the next day. Then, nothing.

Then, yesterday I received another text from the same guy asking if I was available Friday for "Breakfast." Seriously? I waited a bit and then responded, in a cordial manner again, that before I would confirm, I wanted to know the agenda and the expected result. I thought that was fair since they milked me for all that it was worth. They were trying to get business with the org that I just left, and they wanted to know what they could so that they could get an inside advantage.

His response was, "Sure, agenda is really we wanted to thank you for your help at XXX, catch up with you to see what you were doing, and to see if XXX can help you if we can. We have significantly grown our organization built around HC." 

They just wanted to thank me and see what's up and what they can do for me. Um, how about that job we discussed over a year ago?

After over a year, 07/24/2025 to be exact, I get this request. 

My response was, "No need to thank me! I'm also not sure what Smart Dog IT would do for me at this point, so I'll pass on breakfast for now. Appreciate you thinking of me. Good luck with the growth!"

After that, the next day, I got an "understand" and a "take care for now."

What's the old expression? "That's a fine how do you do."

Not that I expected something incredible to happen, but that's all that I got? Take care for now? I don't even know what that means.

I guess I'm back to square one. Only this time, I'm not holding my breath.

In the meantime...

Stay Old, Bold, and Bald. Not to mention a bit Grumpy too.

"Good Fit" Is Code for Younger and Cheaper

Let me tell you something nobody puts in the recruiting brochure. Somewhere around age fifty, you stop being "experienced" and start being "a flight risk for retirement," "maybe not a culture fit," or my personal favorite, "overqualified." Overqualified. As if knowing what I'm doing is suddenly the problem.

I've got more years behind me than in front of me at this point. I'm not going to pretend otherwise — I'm bald, I'm blunt, and I've buried enough coworkers' bad decisions to have earned the right to be both. But here's what twenty-five-year-old me didn't know and forty-something HR screener doesn't want to admit: the stuff that actually keeps a company from setting itself on fire is the stuff you only learn by getting burned a few times. Nobody hands you that in a bootcamp certificate.

The Interview That Wasn't About the Job

I sat across from a hiring manager once — young guy, sharp, probably smarter than me on paper — who spent forty minutes asking me questions that had nothing to do with the role and everything to do with whether I'd "keep up." Whether I was comfortable with change. Whether I'd take direction from someone younger. I answered every one of them straight, because I've got nothing to hide and less patience for games.

What he didn't ask: whether I could walk into a mess nobody else wanted to touch and actually fix it. Whether I've sat in the room when the wheels came off a project and had to be the calm one. Whether I've made the same mistake he's about to make and already know how it ends.

That's ageism. It doesn't wear a sign. It shows up dressed as "team fit" and "energy" and "long-term potential," which is corporate for we've already decided you're closer to the door than the desk.

They Can't Say "Too Old." So They Say "Good Fit."

Let's call it what it is. Nobody in HR is legally allowed to say "we're passing on you because of your age" — that's a lawsuit waiting to happen, and every company past a certain size has a lawyer who's told them so. But they still need a reason to write down, something clean and defensible that closes the file without opening a claim.

Enter "good fit." Enter "culture fit." Enter "we went a different direction." None of it means anything specific, and that's exactly the point — it can't be challenged, because it was never really about anything. It's not a real assessment. It's a placeholder for a reason nobody's allowed to say out loud.

I'm not saying every "not a good fit" is code for "too old." Sometimes it's true — sometimes the fit genuinely isn't there. But when it shows up right after they find out how many years you've got, or right after you mention you've been doing this since before your interviewer was born, don't kid yourself about what just happened. The language was built to be unfalsifiable. That's a feature, not a bug.

The Math They're Not Doing

Here's the part that gets me. Companies love to talk about risk management right up until the hiring conversation, and then all of a sudden they want to bet everything on unproven potential instead of demonstrated results. I've built things. I've broken things and fixed the break. I know what a bad decision smells like three meetings before it happens, because I've made that exact bad decision myself, on my own dime, and learned the expensive way so nobody else has to.

That's not a liability. That's the whole point of hiring someone with a track record instead of a hunch.

What I'm Not Going to Do

I'm not going to dye anything, dumb down my resume, or pretend I don't know what I know so I look less threatening in a Zoom call. I built a rule for myself trading — my stop is my decision, everything before that is noise — and it applies just as well here. My experience is my decision to keep. I'm not apologizing for it, and I'm not hiding it to make somebody younger feel better about the org chart.

If a company can't see the value in someone who's already made the mistakes, already fixed the mistakes, and doesn't need three months of hand-holding to be useful — that's their loss, not mine. I've got the scar tissue to prove I'm worth the seat. I just need somebody willing to look past the bald head and the years to see it.

For Anybody Else in This Fight

If you're out there right now, sending resumes into a void and getting form-letter rejections, or none at all, from jobs you could do in your sleep, you're not broken, and you're not too old. You're just running into a system that hasn't figured out yet that experience isn't the opposite of energy. Keep showing up. Keep being blunt about what you bring to the table. The right door doesn't care how many candles are on your cake.

Old. Bold. Bald. And still, without question, worth the hire.

Until next time,
Stay Old, Bold, and Bald

Not to Lose More Friends Over Facebook

I've been around long enough to watch a lot of presidents come and go, and one thing hasn't changed: everybody's always sure this is the term that finally breaks the country. It hasn't yet. But something about the last decade of politics feels different; we seem to "disagree" more today instead of finding like-minded people. Why can't we be in the same room and talk like civil people?

People throw around the phrase "Trump Derangement Syndrome" a lot these days. I'm not here to litigate whether that's a real thing or a talking point; smart people land on both sides of that one, and it usually says more about who's talking than what's actually true. What I do know is this: political intensity, whatever you want to call it, has a cost. And most of us are paying it without noticing.

So here's my Old, Bold, and Bald advice, no diagnosis required:

1. Social media isn't the place for your unfiltered opinions.
It's not a conversation; it's a platform with an audience you can't see. Nobody's mind changes because of a heated 11pm post. But someone will screenshot it. Someone always does. If you've got something to say, say it to an actual person, over actual coffee or a simple phone call, where tone survives and you can read the room and not hide behind a keyboard.

Just don't put it on social media. I had a friend that kept posting things without fact checking. When I would point out the inaccuracies or the dated material. I would get beat up because I was from Minnesota and "should know better." My response to a couple people that said was that I left over 40 years ago and that it when I quit drinking that kook aid.

I simply responded that I had enough, peace out!

One "friend", who was a neighbor when we lived in Dallas, pinged me on Instagram to call me a racist. That was during Obama's second term. WTH? My daughter is Asian.

My first day in a political science class had the teacher walk in and asked, do we want government to control everything we do or do we choose to rely on ourselves. It was at that moment that I chose my side.

2. FAFO is not a strategy.
"Find out" sounds tough until what you find out is a strained family dinner, a friendship that quietly ends, or a stranger's anger following you around online for a week. I've learned the hard way: being right in an argument nobody remembers next month rarely covers what it costs you now.

I have a friend that we discussed the ACA (aka Obamacare). We had a civil discussion and came back to work the next day. That's the way it should be.

3. Coming together doesn't require agreeing.
It requires remembering the people around you are more than their voting record. Your neighbor who sees it differently is still the guy who shoveled your driveway during the ice storm: although mine never do but that's a story and rang for another time. 

I'm old enough to know outrage burns a lot of energy for very little return, and bold enough to say so out loud: save your fights for the people who matter and let the noise be noise.

Opinions matter folks. Keep them to yourself.

Until next time, stay
Old, Bold, and Bald

Too Much Politics on TV

 After years of deviousness in this Country. Now, CNBC Squawk Box has become yet another political machine, and I don't get it.

They used to be a great source for business stories about what is going on in the economy and why stocks may be reacting the way they are.

Now? It has turned into a machine about will this cause that to happen and why is one side of the aisle better than the other.

I watched a YouTube video where the discussion was the party of common sense vs. the party of crazies.

Now, I get it but you simply can't change stupid. However, I take the approach that, if it doesn't affect me, I'm gonna leave it alone. Just don't push your ideology on me. 

As I've stated before, I came of age in the 80s, so my Gen X thoughts are way different than the crap that is being pushed on me today. I left Minnesota and told "old" friends that I woke up after NOT drinking the Kool-Aid.  

I'm not sure when leaving your issues at the voting table became you need to believe and vote the way I do, or you are a Nazi. WTF is that? Have these "kids" looked at what the Nazi's represented versus how it translates to today? Being on the Nazi right is not the same as being on the political right today. That being said, the crazies don't see things that way. 

I'm sure that you can guess which side I tend to lean, but that is a story for another day. Woke should lead to Wake The Heck Up, kids.

That being said. Until next time.

Stay Old, Bold, and Bald. Not to mention Grumpy.

Be Curious, Not Judgmental

I don't have Apple TV, but I've seen this clip from Ted Lasso many times. You probably know what I'm saying; if not, check it out here:

https://youtu.be/CDRXv80F3Us?si=hMu0T-qvQzED2VKh

That single clip brings a tear to my eye darn near every time because I can relate.

That being said, I grew up in a suburb of Minneapolis but have spent most of my adult life living in the KC area.

I was not one of the popular kids in school, and to this day, I'm not 100% sure why I was belittled, ridiculed and felt pretty much defeated. 

Was it because I played in the band? Very possible since it was not the thing to do in the early 80's. In otherwords, this is where no one bothered to be curious. At that time, everyone was judgemental.

If these so call "friends" would simply ask today, maybe they would understand my thoughts and philosophies and why, sometimes taking after my mom, I hold a grudge.

Until next time,

Stay Old, Bold, and Bald

Nobody Told Me the Market Has a Personality. Took Me a While to Figure That Out.

A no-nonsense field report on swing trading, YouTube snake oil, the myth of futures glory, and why the afternoon session may be your friend.

Let's get one thing out of the way before we start. I am not your trading guru. Never have and never will be. I don't have a Discord server with three tiers of membership. I'm not selling you a course for $997 "normally $2,997." I'm just a guy who's been around long enough to know what doesn't work, and stubborn enough to eventually figure out what does, for me. 

Your mileage will vary. That's the whole point.

Trading is one of those rare arenas where experience genuinely counts for something, provided that experience didn't also make you broke and bitter. The market is one of the few places left where the old dog can absolutely learn new tricks, and equally, where the old dog can get his tail handed to him if he gets too cute. I've been both dogs. I prefer the first one. Nothing like having the tail wagging the dog if you get my drift.

"The market will teach you everything you need to know. The tuition is expensive. Pay attention and don't repeat the same class twice."
 - Something I had to learn the hard way, and it sucks.

Do your own thing. No, really.

Here's what nobody says out loud: no system works for everyone, and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something (i.e., YouTube, X...). Volume Profile, MACD crosses, Elliott Wave, Fibonacci retracement, candlestick patterns, sector rotation, these are all tools, not gospel. Some traders swear by one. Some use a cocktail. The ones I trust most usually built something over time, tested it, busted it, rebuilt it, and can explain exactly why it works for them and not necessarily anyone else.

That is the discipline. Not following someone else's rules, building your own, and then actually following those. The market doesn't care about your feelings or your system. It just moves. Your job is to develop a repeatable edge and stick to it with the emotional consistency of a retired accountant.

Learn from others. Just watch your wallet around the teachers.

I'm not anti-education. Read the books. Watch the "real traders." Study methodologies. There is a tremendous amount of legitimate knowledge available — some of it free, some of it worth paying for. The problem isn't learning; it's who you're learning from.

The tell-tale signs of a scam masquerading as mentorship are not subtle once you've seen them once: the lifestyle-first marketing, the vague results, the "limited seats" urgency, the testimonials from people with no verifiable track record, and the beautiful irony that the only provable income stream is the course itself. Real traders trade. They may also teach, but the trading comes first, and you can verify it.

DO YOUR HOMEWORK!!! I can't stress that enough.

There are legitimate educators out there, methodologists who have built real frameworks and documented their thinking rigorously. Seek those people. I live near Missouri, the Show Me State, so be skeptical of the rest. Your skepticism is free. The tuition at the school of bad mentorship is not. Trust your gut. It has done me well, and sometimes, not so well.

Sell in the morning. Buy in the afternoon. Let it breathe.

This one took me longer to trust than it should have, but here we are: the opening hour of the market is a cage fight. Emotional, reactive, full of noise. Every overnight position holder, every institutional desk, every algorithm with a trigger is firing at once. Prices move violently in directions that frequently reverse by noon. That volatility can be an opportunity, but it can also be a trap dressed in very convincing clothing.

What I've found works for my swing approach is taking profits in the morning when prices are elevated, and the bid is still hot, and hunting for entries in the afternoon when the dust has settled, the weak hands have shaken out, and the real range of the day starts to establish itself. The afternoon session — particularly in that window before the close — tends to give you cleaner signals and better entry points. Things have had time to breathe. So have you.

This is not a rule handed down from a trading deity. It is what works for my style, my risk tolerance, and the way I read markets. Test it yourself. Keep notes. Let the data, your data, tell you if it's true for you.

Set your stops. Every single time

This is the one non-negotiable. I don't care how convicted you are. I don't care if your analysis is perfect and every indicator you trust is aligned. You set a stop loss, and you do not move it further out when the trade goes against you. That last part, the moving of stops, is how small losses become account-defining losses. The market can stay irrational longer than you can stay solvent, and it is very happy to prove that to you.

Early in 2025, when tariffs were the topic that had traders scared, I lost over $20,000 over the course of a month because I didn't set stops and didn't pay attention until it was too late. Learn from the mistakes of others. That one hurt: BAD.

Swing trading stocks. Slower. Saner. Mine.

I swing trade stocks. Multi-day holds. Sometimes a week or two. I am not trying to capture every tick. I am looking for a setup with a clear thesis — a stock that's consolidating above a key level, showing the right technical structure, in a sector that's seeing rotation, and I ride it until it hits my target or my stop.

It is not glamorous. There are no war stories from a frantic morning session. The pace allows you to think. To check your work. To not trade out of boredom or anxiety. The slower cadence is a feature, not a bug, especially for those of us who have accumulated enough life experience to know that urgency is usually manufactured and patience is usually correct.

My father trades futures and options. They just aren't my thing. BTW, options can be very volatile and costly, especially if you don't "Guess" right.

About those futures influencers.

I tried it. Day trading futures. The kind where you're watching a one-minute chart and trying to scalp ticks out of a market that has no memory, no sentiment, and no patience for hesitation. I understand the appeal, the leverage, the liquidity, the tax treatment, the idea that you can make a week's worth of gains between breakfast and lunch.

Here is what the YouTube channel with the Lamborghini thumbnail and the $2,000 course neglected to mention: the futures market is among the most efficient, most unforgiving trading environments that exists. The participants on the other side of your trade include algorithms that have been running for years, institutional desks with more capital and faster infrastructure than you will ever have, and professional traders who do nothing else, all day, every day. You are not getting an edge in that environment on day three of your journey. Or day three hundred.

That does not mean futures are off-limits forever. It means that the casual framing of futures day trading as a side hustle with massive upside that "anyone can do" is, at best, wildly misleading. The influencers showing you their winning trades may not show you their funded account drawdowns, their prop firm washouts, or the weeks where nothing connected. The P&L they display is curated. Yours will not be.

I came back to stocks. I came back to my system. The one I built, tested, and trust. If futures are your thing, build your way into them slowly, with real money you can afford to lose, and with a ruthless commitment to the stop. But go in with your eyes open — not with the expectations set by a highlight reel on a platform built for engagement, not truth.

"Your system only works if you actually follow it. Especially when you don't feel like it."
 - Obvious in retrospect. Took me a minute.

That's my experience and opinion. No secret sauce. No proprietary indicator. Just a slow-cooked philosophy built from more mistakes than I'd like to count or admit, a healthy distrust of easy answers, and a genuine appreciation for what the market can teach you if you stay humble enough to keep listening.

Do your own thing. Set your stops. Sell into strength in the morning. Buy the calm in the afternoon. Keep learning. Keep your hand on your wallet near the guys with the yachts and the whiteboards.

That's all I've got for now. Go trade well.

Until next time,
Old, Bold, and Bald

A Bald Minnesotan’s Guide to Losing My Patience (and Apparently Becoming the Villain)

 There are days when I wake up, stretch my back (which now makes more noise than a gravel road), pour my coffee, take one look at the world, and think: “Well… this is why we can’t have nice things.”

As a native Minnesotan, I’ve always carried a certain pride — the kind that comes with surviving winters so cold they practically exfoliate your soul. But lately?
Let’s just say I’ve reached the point where I’m embarrassed to admit where I’m from. And trust me, if a Minnesotan is admitting embarrassment, you know it’s serious. We’re a people who apologize when other people bump into us.

But now, apparently, asking a simple question or raising an eyebrow makes me the villain of the story. Not just your everyday villain, either — oh no. I’ve somehow become the full‑on, over‑the‑top, cape‑wearing antagonist from a 1950s cartoon.

One minute I’m wondering why things look like chaos, and the next minute someone’s acting like I’m about to tie a damsel to railroad tracks for dramatic effect.

I didn’t sign up for this supervillain origin story.
I mean, if I’m going to be cast as the bad guy, can I at least get a theme song? Or a henchman? Maybe a volcano lair with good Wi-Fi?

Honestly, half the time I’m not even mad — I’m just confused. Confused and a little tired. And hungry. Why is nobody ever labeled “hangry” instead of “hostile”? Seems more accurate.

I miss the days when we could have a disagreement without someone dramatically clutching their pearls and declaring me the human embodiment of doom. I miss conversations that didn’t end in sighs, groans, or someone storming off like they’re auditioning for a soap opera.

But hey — being Old, Bold, and Bald means I’ve earned the right to call out nonsense when I see it. Even if the world insists on misunderstanding me in increasingly creative ways.

At this point, all I can do is laugh, shake my shiny head, and keep showing up anyway.
Because if I’m going to be the villain, I might as well be a fabulous one.

Signed,
Your Friendly Neighborhood Bald Guy Trying Not to Lose His Mind