Grammy and Pop flew down from Pittsburgh between Christmas and New Year's, so it ended up being a very full, action-packed four days. We played a lot of games, including a couple of rounds of Monopoly. I’ve been playing that game for decades, and I still don’t understand how it became so popular. Ninety percent of it feels like slowly moving fake money from one pile to another while waiting for it to be over.
This week, we did something pretty special and a little nostalgic. We went to the circus set up behind UTC Mall, put on by Nick Wallenda and his crew. We went mostly for Grandpa. Back in the 50s and 60s, his family was heavily involved in the circus, so it’s always been part of our family lore. As he’s getting older, we thought there was something fitting about getting him back under the big top.
We saw jugglers, tightrope walkers, hula hoop performers, and some truly jaw-dropping talent.
We even got a group picture with the stars of the show.
Every so often, I get asked about buying gold or silver. Sometimes it’s a casual question. Other times, it’s coming from a place of real anxiety about inflation, government debt, or the general sense that the world feels a little less stable than it used to.
Let me say this clearly up front: I don’t have anything against gold or silver. They are legitimate assets with a long history. But like most things in finance, how you do it matters far more than whether you do it.
Where people get into trouble is usually at the very beginning—where they buy it. If you’re buying gold or silver, it should be plain, boring bullion from a reputable dealer, priced close to the market price. The moment someone is pitching you "rare," "exclusive," or "limited-time" coins, especially on TV or talk radio, you should assume you’re paying a very large markup. Those sellers aren’t selling protection; they’re selling fear, and fear is expensive.
Buying the metal is only half the story. Selling it later is the part most people overlook. Gold and silver are liquid, but not like stocks—you won’t get the spot price, and there’s always a spread (usually around 5% round-trip with a good dealer). Add storage, insurance, or vaulting costs, and the long-term experience is often far less exciting than people expect.
That lines up with what I’ve seen over the years. Clients who owned gold for a long time were rarely thrilled about it. They didn’t hate it, but they were usually underwhelmed. Gold doesn’t produce income. It just sits there.
Historically, gold has preserved purchasing power over very long periods, but the ride is anything but smooth. There have been long stretches, sometimes decades, where gold went nowhere or lost ground after inflation, while stocks quietly did their job. Gold tends to do well during periods of high inflation, currency debasement, or declining confidence in financial systems. Outside of those environments, it can be surprisingly dull.
But, as I've said many times, the markets are impossible to predict. Last year was one of the strongest years for gold prices in history, and big moves like that naturally get attention. But zoom out far enough, and the story looks very different. From about 1980 to 2010, gold’s value was largely flat, and along the way, it was often more volatile than people expected. That’s why I’d be cautious about rushing out to buy gold just because it’s been soaring. After the 2008 financial crisis, gold fell 45%.
When anything runs up quickly, momentum eventually fades, and late buyers are often the ones left holding the bag — in this case, a literal bag of gold.
One argument I hear a lot goes something like this: "If the whole financial system collapses, I want gold." There’s some truth there, but it needs context. In a short-term crisis, gold is not what keeps you alive. Food, water, medicine, fuel, and community matter far more. Nobody is shaving off flakes of gold to buy groceries during chaos.
So where does that leave us?
In my view, gold and silver can make sense as a part of a diversified portfolio. They can act as a hedge, a diversifier, or a form of insurance. What they should not be is a core strategy or a response to fear-based headlines.
Be Blessed,
Dave