Devoted to understanding the basics and fundamentals of investing

Confessions of an Excel Addict
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As I now float in a sea of data so large that it engulfs every available byte of computer memory, transcends possibility of manipulation, and crushes any sense of balance or order, my inundated brain ponders the question of how I got into this swamp.

The whole project appeared innocuous at its inception. I had more-or-less jettisoned a two-decade career as a fixed-income salesman to pursue trading futures full-time, compassionately kicking my wife to work harder and stay happy as an insurance operations manager, so that I might more easily finance my new endeavors. After a very nice little equity advance and a not-so-nice little equity drawdown, I became convinced that I needed a more organized and disciplined method of entering and exiting trades. I needed a "system."

What a great little word! It seemed to promise so much for so little: a little data here, a little formula there, a little help from the technical support folks and I would soon be on my way to early retirement. At first it was really great fun; not only was the exercise proving to be enjoyable, but the conversational value was enormous. I was doing "system testing" and therefore could discourse at length as if I were some Nobel Laureate. I was now a member of a select group; not a rank amateur but an accomplished "pro" mapping out complex strategies under the glare of a computer screen. It was all I could do not to buy a green eyeshade.

Before I realized it, the scope of the project went absolutely parabolic! I found out that "testing" had the insidious quality of posing at least as many questions as it answered. It also bred a treacherous compunction to follow a query to its logical solution. A virtual whirlpool, I'll tell you! Suddenly I needed a LOT more data, a WHOLE LOT more formulas, a PERMANENT seat next to the technical support personnel and far more hardware and software than I could cram into one end of my condo's living room and onto my desk, which had become a community crawl space for my dog and me. On any given day, it was a toss-up which of us would do the loudest bawling.

I plodded on for several months with intermittent bursts of creativity and punctuating fits of inadequacy, but still progressing toward a system that attained my goal: an acceptable rate of return with relatively few trades. Even though I pleasantly surprised myself by rapidly improving my computer skills, the process required an incessant expansion of those skills which proved discouraging. I began to feel like I was sitting in a trade with an exit-stop about to be triggered during a gap opening.

The most trying aspect of the process developed over the last several months and concerned the question of which software to use and, by default, which hardware to use. After hacking out a system based on weekly data, I had come to the hard truth that I needed daily data to account for gap openings, to select coincident trades within a group, and to include expiration rollovers (it's a long-term trend-following system). I had developed the system by dumping the data into Excel files and using spreadsheets to store the data and macros to run the tests. This was very efficacious for me, as I had used Excel after trying out Lotus and Quattro Pro, loved it, and had no desire to learn any other particular spreadsheet applications or massive relational databases like Oracle, much less to learn C++ programming. Excel produced the results I wanted in a format I liked, so I was content to stay with it. Then my pretensions to the Nobel were called into serious question by several newly acquired friends in the trading/data community who viewed Excel (on a DOS-based i486-chip machine, no less) as too slow, too sloppy, too ingenuous, and wholly beneath the noble calling of "system testing" -- and felt duty-bound to make me well aware of their judgments.

The ensuing dilemma was nothing short of a crisis of faith. Were my efforts really that naive? Childlike? Amateurish? Doomed to second class status (again) at best? Did I now need to learn some arcane gibberish called "code" to succeed at system development and, de facto, at trading? Should I hire a programmer to lead me out of my unenlightened bog? Was I following a clear scientific method? A Stanford method? A Socratic method? A Simpleton method? The more I pondered and considered, the question evolved into one of introspection rather than polemics. I felt a need to discern rather than to debate. The idea that my path should be deetermined by exogenous judgments did not feel right to me. I felt strongly that the opposite was true. If I were not true to myself, I would surely be doomed. If I am to achieve consistent trading success, the developement of the system must come from within and the system itself must be comfortable and supportive. Epiphany!

Thus resolved, I happily ordered my upgrade to Excel 3.0, a larger harddrive, a new monitor card, gobs of historical data, and a small photograph of myself so my wife and dog will know that I am not The Creature From The Black Lagoon when I eventually emerge again from this swamp!

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious quote from some forgotten floor,
Seeking truth amidst the chaos from the data store,
While I squinted, nearly weeping, suddenly there came a squeaking,
As of someone gently peeping, peeping through my computer's core.
"'Tis some power surge," I did mutter, "only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly, I remember it was in the bleak December,
As I struggled oh so bleakly just to make one year-end score.
Eagerly I wished the 'morrow; desperately I tried to borrow
A trade idea which might life my meager equity off the floor.
But as my formulas seemed to quit me, not just once but evermore,
Came a squeaking, gently creeping, as from some far distant shore.

As I labored, slowly savored, just for one more trade indicator,
Came yet this creeping squeaking still, sending my reflection freaking;
Now the image clearly forming in the pixels of my monitor:
A gentle mouse before me rode, over the potholes in my source code.
Although my work it did explore, into my mind it seemed to bore.
Doth quoth the mouse, "What the heck are you doing this for?"