My mother wants to stockpile gold coins in the basement.
This is what she tells me as I make mustard vinaigrette.
“Uhhhhh…I’m sorry, but where did this idea come from?”
“Well, I was talking to a friend of your father’s…”
Uh-oh. In a nursery-school game of “telephone,” my mother would fail miserably. Accurate listening is not one of her strengths. Extreme amplification of basic points? Oh, yes! World champion!!!
“and he said…”
Uh, Mom? What do you think?
“and he said that the one thing he’d do for security today is to have $50,000 in gold coins in the house.”
Ok, ok, I can actually come up with good reasons for shifting money into commodities – real assets are the best thing to hold in an inflationary period. Duh. I know that. But why not a gold fund?
“Uh, Mom, are you sure that’s exactly what he said?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure – he apparently does this himself.”
What you don’t know is that this friend of my father is easily a centi-millionaire, so $50,000 in gold coins hidden on his highly fortified estate is a no-brainer. It’s a little different for a widow on less than an acre who lives with her seriously disabled son with a loud, yet ineffective dog. Is she predicting social unrest? an apocalypse?
A few weeks ago, she was talking about buying a gun. Mark and I talked her out of that. So I approach these “a friend of your father” conversations carefully. Gold, guns, she is looking for security. I am trying to make sure that her security does not come at anyone else’s expense…