My crash course in physical gold bullion

It’s been a while.. my travel trip has been put on hold another year due to financial “issues” (ie not being able to sell my house) and I’m rapidly running out of patience with this whole Eurozone crisis, the sun isn’t where it should be despite the calendar telling me it’s summer and I don’t own physical gold. Yep – hard to believe eh?

What the hell am I talking about?

Until recently I knew nothing of gold other than my ex-wedding band and a few earrings. Now I’m some kind of green-eyed goldbug.

OK – it began back at school – there was this girl in my year, I’ll call her Kelly – and she was the class rebel – lots of hairspray, cigarettes in the playground, too much eyeliner and at least one detention a week.

Her hopes and prospect’s weren’t good. I on the other hand was a perfect model school angel, sat at the front, homework always in on time, straight A’s, more A-Levels than I know what to do with.

Yet somehow Kelly and I were friends. Sure not the closest of friends and when I went off to university we kind of parted company and I always imagined she’d end up working in MacDonalds. I’m such a snobby cow.

We hooked up again in 2006. I remember it because I’d just sold a house for double what I paid for it a mere 24 months earlier and I was in the ESPC (a kind of cooperative realtors office) feeling kinda smug and looking for my next purchase.

There she was – Kelly – and I can’t say I wasn’t a little stunned at how gorgeous she was looking. I’m no expert on fashion but she was wearing good cloth. We made some small talk and I managed to shoehorn into the conversation my recent financial success – I was afterall now feeling a little deflated next to this 6 foot in heels slender toned and tanned person.

Turns out she’d just sold her house too and for the same amount as me – £300,000.

I asked her what her next project was going to be. This was the time of house flipping remember.

“Oh no – I’m getting out of property” quoth she.

“What? Are you mad!” returned I, flabbergasted at her financial stupidity.

“No, I’m getting out – that’s me – the housing market’s had it. I’m buying gold”

Well, shall I say we agreed to differ! I was about to put my £300k into a new property, do some work on it and hopefully clear another £200k. I’d be a half millionaire and the world would be good. Kelly was going to buy jewellery?

We had a coffee and muffin (or I should say I had a muffin) and she gave me her theory on the property market, the dollar, excess lending, gold spot prices, gold bullion, platinum and other words and acronyms I didn’t fully comprehend. Who WAS this girl? Do they teach this stuff at Macdonalds these days?

After my scrummy blueberry muffin and caffeine fix, we air kissed and I went back into the ESPC and Kelly walked off down the street, hips swaying, the red soles of her 8 inch heels clearly visible.

So that was then.

Here we are now midway through 2012. Six years have passed and guess who I bumped into again yesterday?

Whereas I’ve expanded and seemingly lost a few inches in stature, Kelly must now be pushing 7 foot. My sun-damaged wrinkles looked upon her flawless complexion with the kind of jealously that would only be beaten by what was about to come.

I know almost nothing about cars other than Land Rovers and yet I knew that the white convertible she slithered out of was a classic Mercedes as driven by Stephanie Hart. Her clutch bag contrasted interestingly with my M&S “bag for life”.

I asked her politely how it was going – although it was pretty clear the answer was “very well”.

Again, like some clunky anecdote from Rich Dad Poor Dad we chatted about property. She was renting and I was still trying to sell the house I’d bought in 2006.

“What about your gold investments?” I asked, almost afraid to learn the truth.

She’d taken her £300,000 and bought physical gold coins. I’d pictured gold bullion as big bricks like in Goldfinger, turns out they’re more like pirates treasure. They’re legal tender and so there’s no VAT or capital gains tax on the investment (who knew!?) She’d bought at $550 an ounce. She sold them last year at $1800 an ounce.

This rebel from school had made £1,000,000 in a recession whereas I was looking at potential negative equity. She paid no tax. She took her £1,000,000 and put it in the bank to “just sit”.

Apparently she’s now buying gold in £10,000 lumps again but waiting for the gold spot price to fall below $1500 oz and expects it’ll do so within the next month – then she’s going to put the lot back in, expecting at least a 25% increase by mid 2013 with a $4000 oz price potentially within the next 2 years. She gave me the web address of a company offering a free gold investment guide – so I grabbed it.

Did I say I hate her? And I’m buying physical gold

Frank Kern – Queen of Spam

I’ve been quite excited getting this blog off the ground and have been checking out people I like’s blog-rolls and then the blog-rolls they like (and so on) getting an idea of what makes a cool blog.

So far so good.

The weird thing is I was commenting on a friends blog, hit the comment button and nothing happened – no “pending moderation”, no nothing. I asked him if my comment showed up and no, so I did another test with him watching his “your’ blog has been protected from xxxx spam comments” bit where Akismet says how great they are.

I commented, he refreshed and bam there I was, spammer 1,498. No sign of the comment, nothing, zero nada.

Have I secretly been traffiking in low-rent links and male-potency pills? Have I been hawking slimming aids or strange berries?

No.

I’ve commented on maybe 10-15 blogs in 3 days where it’s merited a comment and I’ve had something to say. Because my blogs not even nearly finished I’ve even been turning off that comment-luv thing.

Casting my mind back, I WAS on one site where a comment had come from someone looking for funding for an African AIDS charity and I wrote a one line thing, something like “hi Name, have you tried Elton Johns AIDS charity at web-address”

If that’s spam then god help us.

I’ve written to Akismet, so interested to see what’s happened

In the meantime – I guess – if you see me lurking around I’d cross the street and get away because this lady? She’s BAAAAD

Frank Kern – Queen / King of spam – the result

Ok this morning (fast I know!) I got a nice letter from Akismet saying

Hi,
This is fixed for now.

Some blog owners are saying your comments are spam. It is blog owners who look at your comment and decide this.
You need to be careful where and how you comment or this will happen again.

This cannot be fixed again.

–
Mark

Seeing as I’ve written nothing even remotely spammy or linked to anything commercial (two links total, one to aids charity as mentioned, and one to wikipedia showing a guy that his idea had already been thought of) this is obviously a concern to me so simple answer is don’t comment on other peoples blogs. Sorted.

A friend has also suggested I change the name of my blog, even though it’s my name. Seemingly this other Frank Kern (guy) is a bit of a spammer. I’ll look a bit more into him and maybe see if FrankieKern.com is available.

Ok, so I know this blog is meant to be about our trip – and I’m seriously going to get round to writing about my prep so far but first maybe just a little general stuff.

I mean it’s not JUST going to be about our travels – I am well known for my ability to spout rubbish on a huge range of subjects.

Take our overcrowded world fr’instance.

There is a family at our school with four kids under six. The youngest boy just turned one. Where we live this alone is enough of a spectacle. Nobody has four kids. If you meet a family who does, you start to question why. Are they religious? Was it an accident? I mean, who can afford four kids these days?

From what I can tell they are neither religious, sloppy, or crazy.

Now this mum of four is pregnant with number five. Telling people you have five kids in Edinburgh is like telling them you live in an underground bunker and exist only on canned peaches and beef jerky. It’s just weird. In the suburbs, sure. But in the city?

But here’s the truly strange part: this mum seems utterly calm. She and her brood show up at school functions and she’s smiling and somehow managing to keep them all happy. She and her husband chat with other parents. They even chaperone field trips. They always, always remember my name.

So it is entirely possible that they are aliens.

I do not want five kids. No part of me wants five kids; I love my family of one plus two. But, still, when I heard she was pregnant again, there was a tiny flicker of envy. Not for the huge family, but for the desire for one. I mean, this woman must feel like a really, really proficient mom. More than that, she must be enjoying herself. Right? I mean, aside from my theory about them being aliens I can think of no other reason to have five kids except that you really, really enjoy it.

As someone who barely survived having one for the first 2 years, I have trouble wrapping my mind around her calmness. When I think about having to take care of five children under 6 I get heart palpitations. It would be different, maybe, if a few of them were old enough to help out. But the oldest is in nursery.

I only hope her house is a disaster. Because if it’s pin-neat, I’m going to freak out.

There’s nothing worse than an empty blog. Ok there are a FEW things worse, but it is quite sad. I hate it, so until I start writing golden prose I thought I’d talk nonsense and try embedding video and that kind of thing. Stuff that takes up space.

When I went to Primary and High School in Edinburgh (long time ago) along with listening to Heavy Rock and Metal influenced by my big brother, I listened to a lot of Punk and New Wave influenced by my big sister.
In between the two was early electronic like Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream from big bro and `chart` electronic like Gary Newman from big Sis…
There was also a lot of early John Peel stuff… (Wedding Present, Pixes etc…)

One band I listened to throughout High school that only one other friend listened to was `The The`,
Matt Johnson produced 2 Albums `Soul Mining` and `Infected`… between those magic years of 1983 – 1987… it was Jools Holland who played piano, no intro needed there…fantastic lyrics sung by Matt Johnson…

Sadly my friend from High school is no longer with us… so whenever I listen to `the The` I think of times riding BMX / Chopper and chilling out with Dave…
This song is one of there best from their Album `Soul Mining `…

Does anyone else out there remember them?…

Uncertain Smile…

After a heated debate the Edinburgh Council has decided to continue the building of the Trams and include St Andrew’s Square.

I had a bet with my better half last night that this would be the conclusion but it really wasn’t rocket science to work that out.

If the council had voted to stop the works then so much horrendous upheaval, and costs, would have been in vain. If they had voted to continue with the route but only as far as Haymarket I think we would have seen a riot by the Edinburgh folk.

Waverley Station is the major railway station in Edinburgh situated off Princes St and just a 3 minute walk to St Andrew’s Square.

If travelers would have had to make their way to Haymarket in order to get the tram to Edinburgh Airport then they would have been so much quicker getting the Airport Shuttle bus.

One thing is desperately needed though. The leader of the Edinburgh Council, Jenny Dowe, needs to be removed as she shows no understanding of money values or responsibility.

She was on the news last night making a vague attempt to explain her ‘little glitch’ comments but only succeeded in digging herself into a deeper hole.

She said that the overspend was just in the same line as other major projects that ran over budget so it wasn’t really a big deal but in fact just to be expected.

The Scottish Parliament became a laughing disgrace because of the horrendous spiraling costs in building it ( and for what? – a building that looks like an advert for IKEA from the outside and cement work that is already showing distress!!!)

Does Jenny Dowe think that gives the Council the right to have a blank cheque scenario?

Her words showed she thinks that way and for that reason alone we need to have her removed or the Edinburgh rate payers will be carrying the can for her negligence.

Remember if she can be so cool and unaffected by the state she and her fellow motley crew have allowed with the trams, then how can we trust her to make any other decisions that come up?
She has no money sense at all and I wouldn’t trust her to look after my grocery shop let alone run the council.

END OF THE LINE AWARD

To Edinburgh city council, which despite scaling back plans to build a tram network consisting of three lines to just half-a-line, is still £200m over-budget and six years behind schedule.

With the pollution increasing across the city and the City Council awaiting a report on its handling of the trams project by the UN Aarhus Commission in Geneva, this has not been a year of great distinction for the City Council administrators or the Councillors.

The prospect is looming of yet more disruption and misery for the city as the Council forces through the tracks for the light railway , oh, sorry, ‘the tram’ into St Andrew Square and on into York Place, so reducing the main east- west artery to two lanes.

The Council are extracting a terrible revenge on the citizens because they threw out the ineptly structured and ill-thought out Council plan for a Congestion Charge scheme some years ago.

Frank Kern – The Blog

Hi it’s Frank Kern here – no not the famous Frank Kern of Mass Control fame (I wish) but rather just me, plain old Frank Kern, 30ish Brit, a little larger and lotta shorter than I’d ideally be, mother of one, wife of another, car owning, mortgage paying, average kinda gal.

Frank you say? But you’re a girl! Well ten out of ten for observation so perhaps a little explanation. You see I was born Francesca, which morphed into Frankie which in turn became shortened to Frank. Maybe in a year I’ll be F and two from now just a guttural sound.
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The Other Frank Kern

OH TO BE THE OTHER FRANK KERN. I’ve looked him up – he seems to be some kind of internet marketing type, a self styled guru. Apparently he’s handsome, he’s certainly tanned – and those teeth! Have there ever been teeth so white? Is WHITE even as white as Frank Kern’s teeth.
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Which Frank Kern is Which?

There are two (probably more) people called Frank Kern. There’s the American surfer dude multi-millionaire and then there’s me. I’m obviously not he and he certainly isn’t me. So if you’re looking for the other one you’re in the wrong place – take away the dash in my domain, remove a Y chromosome and you’ve got him.

So now which Frank Kern is which is sorted, what now?

Well I guess it’s down to me and my writings. I’ll be using this blog to talk about really dull things. Well, dull to you – but to me they’re interesting. My life, my work, my family – all that kind of thing.

I’ll probably put up some photos, maybe link to a few things I find interesting – I don’t know, it’s early days yet and I’ve never blogged before. Blame my husband, he said “Get a blog” so I did and this is it. Will it be interesting? Will I write it regularly?

Well if my teen or early adult diaries are anything to go by no – I probably won’t. I’ll do a post a day for a week, then maybe one a week and then it’ll be left in some cyber drawer gathering spam. Hopefully not though – hopefully I’ll make an effort.

So there you go. I’m Frank Kern and this is my blog.