last installment of our four-part series (uno, dos, y tres), the pinky wars, i.e. last thoughts on non-dominant pinky market valuation, i promise. it’s clear that we’re all irrationally pricing ourselves high given the insurance argument, plus a few closing notes:
- keith richards insured his fingers for $1.6 million and heidi klum insured her legs for $2.2 million.
- “we may not value the each marginal chance of losing a pinky at the same price (increasing the chance from 1% to 2% may have a different value than from 99% to 100%) – since this is an all or nothing proposition, simply assuming that all marginal probabilities are valued equally is likely not correct.” — JH
- “[what] about total value of lifetime resources, the fact that 1 in 572 in one year is not representative of the actual odds of losing a pinky, people may prefer to get an F than risk their pinky, people may be more or less skilled /confident in their ability to ’shop’?” — TJ
moreover, i admit i maintain an irrational difference between the price at which i’d sell my pinky, in contrast to the amount which i’d demand for its loss. it should be the same, but my selling price is much higher and based primarily on emotional attachment and vanity …
…while my real loss/demand price is lower, based primarily on the insurance cost, which is likely based on real probabilities and earnings power …
this all explains why my willingness to pay for someone else’s pinky is much lower than the selling price of my own, of course — and in this exercise, since transplants/prosthetics are not allowed, my buying price is actually zero. is this some perversion of loss aversion?
so what’s the bottom line? there is no such thing as rational independent bottom-up valuation! down with fundamentals! long live relative valuation and momentum trading! i see a head and shoulders [top down] pattern emerging! quick — double down and bottoms up!
okay really, though, what’s the bottom bottom line? nothing, really. this was merely a thought exercise meant to distract the target audience of this blog (we, the unemployed and highly levered). the only conclusions i wholly support: ii) shop class at booth is a great idea, and ii) if you dig deep enough, the breakfast club has answers to all life’s questions.
my favorite season is finally here! boots, pie, foliage, burnt orange, pumpkin patches, brown, apples, warm cider on cool, crisp, blustery days …
a good day to think about… how you value your pinky. yes, still on this. JH (during a lecture that cost $500+ to attend) opines:
I’m calling BS on the values people state re pinkies.
[Technique from statistical value of life]
Say Booth announced last year that shop class is mandatory for 2nd years. Unfortunately, someone lost a pinky last year (one out of 572). Because of the danger involved, Booth is making specialized carbon fiber pinky guards available for a cost of $________ (student loans are available). How much do you pay for the pinky guard?
At a value of $10 million, you would buy the guard if the price is $17,000. My belief is that most people would only buy the pinky guard if it was less than, say, $500.
Thus I believe the Booth student values his/her pinky at a maximum of $300,000. Alternatively, $10 million might be $300K for pinky and $9.7MM for having to explain that you sold your pinky…
ps – note that there is an interesting flaw in this logic (that also applies to statistical value of life) that is left as an exercise for the reader.
seeing as how i didn’t even know there was a statistical value of life:
- i’m swayed by this new learning and the fantasy that we could have shop class at booth. i didn’t know what shop class was until i watched the breakfast club which also taught me about flare guns and lobotomies, and then when i actually had shop class in middle school, i learned that “solder” of “soldering iron” fame is pronounced “sodder”, and then i was so stunned that i soldered my shop partner’s pointer finger by accident (hi, BH!! my LED blinker got an A and is still working — your something-degree burn was worth it! to me). so many lessons.
- i need you, reader, to find the logic flaw in JH’s clip above.
separately, (hometown pride) thurston moore and kim gordon of sonic youth broke up after 27 years. let’s commiserate for a moment over the loss of brilliance such as this timely tune:
but really, i think everything is going to be okay — they lasted twenty seven years. “That’s two decades and a second grader! That’s two and a half Biebers!” (dlisted). much more importantly (because recall the focus of this blog — all me, all the time) that makes my age “two decades and a third grader,” which translates loosely to old enough to have spawned a third grader (plus a fraction of a bieber).
wow, time flies in omaha! i’ve only been here three weeks, yet traveled 13 years and back.
the firm: we heard you posted a picture of your monitor to facebook.
me [thinking, ‘uh oh!’]: … maybe?
the firm: guess what. you’re getting an upgrade.
me [phew!]: yay! how old is this CRT, out of curiosity?
the firm: it’s the oldest employee at the firm, apart from [the founder]. purchased in 1998.
hee! very happy with the unexpected upgrade! though i will miss my endless source of laughter, as it taunted me every day with its superior tan.
me: i decided i’m not going to kill myself for these firms. … if it’s not meant to be, i will just move to central america where i am pretty sure my life savings will carry me through the next 50 years.
MB: Good plan, very pragmatic :-p. I’m with you, though, I can’t kill myself for a job. Not that I’m stuck up or anything, but I’m way too awesome to beg for work.
MB [later]: Plan B: Marry a rich old guy and then smother him with a pillow before you have to suck his shrivelly wiener.
daWPL, this one’s for you: comic sans criminal
what would happen if i sent a cover letter in comic sans? immediately binned? if i received a cover letter written in comic sans, i wouldn’t make it the whole way through. between pointing and laughing and my inevitable detour to the resume, scanning for key phrases like, “i’m dyslexic!…stop laughing!” or the only acceptable alternative, “i’m blind. it was either this or braille”, there is no way i’d get to the end.
and the leggings below
for sale sold out at blackmilkclothing. trying a bit too hard, no?