Commentary: Bad haircuts, bad investments, and living with both

Last week I was reminded about two life lessons that I learned during my youth: there's no such thing as a bad haircut and poker skills can be transferred to just about any situation involving risk.

I've always thought that the "bad haircut" phrase was a bit of a misnomer. After all, the purpose of a haircut is to leave the barber shop with shorter locks than when you walked in. If that happens, you've succeeded and things can't be that bad.

Along that vein, my haircut last week was a success - even though I ended up with a length (if you can call it that) somewhat shorter than I had envisioned. It'll grow back.

I'm a big fan of barber shops. I've tried salons on occasion, but never really bought into the concept.

I like hearing the hum of clippers, the feel of warm shaving cream. I also like the idea that a complete stranger can wield a straight razor around my face and neck and I never think twice about it.

So, despite sporting a semi-military look for the next few weeks, not a bad haircut.

On to life lesson No. 2. Transferring poker skills relates to a substantial investment that I've been considering for a couple months. The investment opportunity involved substantial risk, but the potential return made the level of risk acceptable.

I've been reading Allan Roth's columns long enough to know that proper research is essential, and I thought that I had done my homework. I'd reviewed the prospectus, asked dozens of questions, searched the Internet for information.

I was comfortable with the risk involved and I was comfortable with the level of investment.

My potential business partner (PBP for short) seemed to always have a thoughtful, logical answer/explanation whenever a blip would appear on my radar. And I never really was too worried because substantial transactions are never consummated without overcoming a few hurdles and navigating a few bumps in the road.

But as we got closer to sealing the deal, the hurdles seemed to get a bit higher and the bumps in the road seemed to become more regular. Still, PBP was able to keep me engaged and assured. This was a deal worth making, a chance of a lifetime, a payoff worth any risk.

For the briefest of moments I forgot about all the advice that Allan has dispensed. I was an emotional investor, caught up in the euphoria of the deal, blinded by feeling and oblivious to fact.

Thankfully I came to my senses.

I started to ask more direct questions and more probing questions. The problem was that the answers weren't quite as reassuring as they had been early on. It wasn't that PBP had suddenly lost the ability to assuage my concerns, I just wasn't sure I was willing to blindly buy the company line anymore.

There were too many things that just weren't adding up and couldn't easily be explained away.

My investment to this point hadn't been so substantial that a complete loss would ruin me, so I decided it was time to bring things to a head. It was time to see exactly what cards PBP was holding, and whether they indeed formed a winning hand or were simply the machinations of a finely orchestrated bluff.

In essence, to use a poker term, I called.

PBP folded.

There were several half-hearted attempts to convince me that I didn't truly understand the situation, that I was approaching things from an overly-negative point of view, that I was simply looking for a reason - any reason - to bail out of the deal.

When the older statesmen in my hometown were teaching me to play poker (much to my mother's chagrin), they told me their biggest fear was that given my personality and competitive drive, I would never learn to cut my losses, never grasp when it was time to walk away from the table while I still had a few dollars in my pocket. And indeed, there were many nights that I didn't.

But hopefully, while sitting around some big poker table in the sky last week, the Judge, Barney, Mush, Slow Joe and the rest of the gang were smiling. Hopefully they were slapping each other on the back and toasting the fact that Little Mikey had indeed understood at least a bit of the wisdom that they were trying to impart all those years ago.

I had been able to walk away. I had been able to cut, and even accept, my losses.

And I had even managed to get a "proper" haircut.

Mike Boyd is editor of the Colorado Springs Business Journal.

Copyright 2007 Dolan Media Newswires
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.