Author: A.T.

From John Dorgan: “As I’m sure you know, your advice regarding mutual funds is in stark contrast with the folks at the Motley Fool who say that mutual funds rarely keep up with index funds. They suggest buying numbers 2 through 5 of the top five dividend paying Dow Jones Industrials has yielded an annual growth of 22.23% over the past 25 years. Your comments would be appreciated.”

As long as you have some way of going back 25 years to start investing that way, you will definitely earn 22.3% compounded on your money. Whether this will work going forward is less clear.

Certainly, the idea of buying the highest dividend-paying Dow stocks each year has some appeal. The notion is that these companies, having made it into the Dow, are not, by and large, the type to go broke. So if you buy those with the highest dividends, you will (a) get the highest dividends, which can’t hurt, and (b) generally be selecting stocks that are out of favor (their prices have fallen to the point that the dividend, as a percentage thereof, has become relatively high). Things that go out of fashion have a way of coming back into fashion.

So there’s some logic to it, but I think there are lots of holes one could poke in it going forward. One is simply a tax problem (if you’re doing this in a taxable account). Index funds generate little by way of taxable gains. Rebalancing a “dogs of the Dow” portfolio each year, on the other hand, exposes much of the gain to tax. Say you could earn 20% a year taxably with this strategy going forward (which I doubt), but you’re in the 40% bracket, between federal and local taxes, given some blend of long- and short-term gains. That means you’re not getting 20% a year but more like 12%. After 25 years, the $1,000 you started with (say) would be worth $17,000. But earning “just” 15% in an index fund, and assuming for simplicity sake that none of it would have been taxed along the way (although the dividend portion, at least, would have been), your $1,000 would have grown to $33,000 — subject to capital gains tax if you sold the fund. How does a potentially-taxable $33,000 compare with $17,000 on which taxes have been fully paid? Well, at today’s 28% rate, plus say another 7% for state and local tax, you’d get to keep north of $21,000. So 20% with the “Dow dogs” might be less good, in a taxable account, than 15% with an index fund.

Of course, numbers like these — 20% and 15% — are extremely aggressive and optimistic. It’s much more likely both the Index funds and the Dow dogs will revert to much more modest returns. But however well they do, taxes are one item to consider.

Aside from taxes, what else might go wrong with the Dow dogs? Perhaps nothing. Or perhaps relationships will just change going forward. For the next few years, perhaps the Dow dog with the highest dividend, which the Motley Fools would exclude — it’s Philip Morris for 1997 — will really rock and roll, while the second through fifth, which the Fool suggests you favor, will do worse than the sixth through tenth — or worse than Berkshire Hathaway, say, which has also outperformed most mutual funds for the last 25 years (and without your having to pay taxes along the way).

As for your/their comment that most mutual funds rarely keep up with index funds — this is absolutely true, and a point I frequently make myself. That’s why I think super-low-expense index funds are a good choice for most people who want to put some of their money in the market.

But I’d also agree with those who think the big “index stocks” may have been pumped up even more than the rest of the market because so much money has been going into these index funds. I’m not sure we’re anywhere near the end of that, but would suggest looking at index funds that invest more broadly — or that invest abroad.

From a woman of good spirits and not inconsiderable means: “I wrote to you in April ’96 asking what I should do as I had an $11,000 gain on a $22,000 investment. You said sell, but I decided to be the pig and held on … all the way back to break-even. That’s one for the DUM, DA, DUMB, DUM file. But this year I’m going to try again. I subscribed to Investor’s Business Daily, read his book, listened to his tape and am still looking for the cup and handle on stock charts. He must have better eyes than I do. So, I have decided to begin with $20,000, which of course I fully intend to turn into $40,000 by year’s end. Just as an experiment. No more getting caught up in the Iomega crazes, etc., etc. So, wish me luck. I’ll let you know if it works.”

What’s your guess? Is she likely to turn $20,000 into $40,000 this year? Even with the benefit of William O’Neil’s book and tape?

The two things she has going for her — possibly three — that she wouldn’t have had 20 years ago:

Low Commissions. It used to be, brokers nicked you for 1% or 2%, coming and going, when you went to do a trade. In a world where stocks might be expected to average 9% a year in dividends and growth, going in and out a couple of times ate up your entire expected return. Today, you can trade for practically nothing. But note that the taxes involved in trading in and out are still there, as are “spreads” between bid and asked prices that are the less obvious transaction costs you have to pay to play.

A Bull Market. When the trend is up, everyone’s a genius. Twenty years ago, the market had been largely lousy for nearly ten years and would get lousier still before bottoming out five years later. That’s a long, long time for a lousy market. When the next bear market arrives, it will be quite a shock — of the long, drawn out, demoralizing kind — for a lot of people. When it will come no one knows. But the more years the market rises at way beyond a sustainable rate (like its recent annual 20% or 30% gains), the closer and deeper the bear market is likely to be.

Better Information. From your laptop, you can get S.E.C. filings and other such info all but instantly, just like the pros. But so can your competition. So unless you are the kind of investor who really does her homework, crunches the numbers, talks to the customers, and so forth, you are competing against an ever better informed investor. If you take the easy way, doing “research” by tapping into two-sentence tips from fellow speculators on any number of investment forums, you’ll have more fun but are just playing the horses. Or musical chairs.

From J.J.H.: “Do you have any advice for someone who followed your suggestion awhile ago (from The Only Investment Guide You’ll Ever Need, Revised and Updated) and purchased some shares in the Mutual Series Fund family (now that Heine Securities Corporation has been joined to Franklin Resources)? Although the individuals involved in the management of these funds have promised to remain with them for several years, can I expect to see any radical changes now that ultimate oversight is provided by Franklin Templeton? Is there an historical precedent I should be aware of when this type of takeover happens? Are there cautions you’d suggest?”

Well, I haven’t sold mine.

When The Only Investment Guide You’ll Ever Need was first published in 1978, it recommended only a handful of funds, including Mutual Shares (which in the years to come was joined by some Mutual brothers and sisters). It was only recently dropped from the “revised and updated” 1996 version in a printing subsequent to the one you apparently bought, because for new customers (only), the Mutual Series funds, recently acquired by the Franklin family of funds, as you noted, will charge a sales commission (or “load”) — and I only recommend no-load funds.

But for those of us lucky enough already to have shares in any of the Mutual Series funds, any future purchases will be grandfathered as no-load, so that’s not an issue for you or me.

I actually bought my first shares in Mutual Shares in 1976 or 1977 when my employer, New York Magazine, was acquired, and I needed a place to rollover my gargantuan retirement account. (It was around $5,500, if memory serves.) I put it into an IRA with Mutual Shares, and today, bless its little greedy heart, it’s grown to $125,000 or so. Yes, it was helped along by five or ten voluntary, non-deductible $2,000 contributions along the way (non-deductible because I was also contributing to a self-directed Keogh Plan). But I’m still more than pleased with the performance.

Interestingly, the genius behind Mutual Shares, Max Heine, died many years ago. But the young fellow he trained, Michael Price, did every bit as well as the master. Now Price is easing his way out (having just picked up $550 million in his sale to Franklin, with the chance for a couple hundred million more if things go well), but he has a cadre of key people he’s trained.

Will Mutual Shares do as well in the future, relative to other funds, as it has done in the past? Without Michael, maybe not. But I’d be in no great rush to sell on the basis of the merger, if I were you. And if I did sell, I’d retain a token position in the fund because, as I understand it, that will allow you to reinvest in any of these funds in the future without having to pay a load.

PS — For more, you might want to read Fortune’s excellent take on Michael Price and his lieutenants.

If you were born in 1947, like me, you’ve probably spent most of your life hoping for things that seemed impossible. Nuclear disarmament, freedom in Eastern Europe, an end to apartheid, democracy and free trade throughout much of the world, cheap air fares, fat-free cheese. Also: low interest rates, low inflation, a bull market, declining crime rates, low unemployment, declining deficits. Not to mention a country at least a little closer to judging its citizens based on the content of their character rather than the color of their skin. (Happy Birthday, Dr. King.)

Needless to say, there’s a long list of problems, too. But those are for the next 1,460 days. Today is a day to enjoy a little — even if you preferred the other guy.

With the departure of Malcolm Forbes some years ago, a man who virtually defined “joi de vivre” for many of us, even those of us a little unsure how to spell it (I took Russian), one might have expected interest in ballooning to fade from the scene. But now come three — count ’em, three! — sets of madmen (the maddest of whom is a set of just one guy, solo, with no pressurized cabin) who propose to circumnavigate the globe by balloon.

I am no stranger to hot air. And I have even inhaled a lungful of helium or two. It makes you talk like this. But to risk one’s life just to end up approximately where you started? When Magellan tried it by boat, he was killed by natives, but at least he proved the earth was round and got a hell of a mutual fund named after him. But now we know the earth is round — smoother than a bowling ball, they say, despite Everest and the Empire State Building — so why is Virgin Atlantic’s Richard Branson leading one such expedition, with two other lesser knowns in hot pursuit? Why risk getting shot down by the North Koreans?

OK, OK, it’s thrilling. To read more about it all, click here.

But why am I telling you this? It is because I hold in my hand a letter written in 1878 by the famous French balloonist Louis Godard to the Mayor of Avignon. Or at least I hope he was famous. When I bought it, I just sort of assumed he was the Godard for whom the Goddard Space Center was named, but now suspect that it was named for the American rocket scientist Robert Goddard, with two D’s. And I just sort of assumed he was famous because, well, I knew the name Godard (Jean Luc Godard, perhaps, the famous French film director?).

But he must have been famous, because look at his letterhead. It’s festooned with engravings of Godard balloons, “with joyous and excited clients as well as professional entertainers and daredevils suspended in some fashion from these wondrous contraptions” (as the catalog copy had it).

I should point out that not quite 120 years after he wrote this letter you could, for the price of a sandwich, pull a phone (the prototype having been invented by Alexander Graham Bell in 1876, just two years earlier) from the seatback in front of you, slide your credit card through, and make a call from 37,000 feet as you make the 4.5 hour trip from JFK to LAX.

But in 1878 — as today — people were enthralled by balloons, and Godard was haggling with the Mayor of Avignon over prices. “Mr. Mayor,” he wrote, “The price quoted you by Montbrison for 800 francs is correct, but that was for an ascent in a Montgolfier in which a descent is made 5 minutes outside of town — which is of interest to no one — and in which an ascent is made to a height of 200 meters.” [Ninety-one years later, man would walk on the moon, but I digress.] “If I have not asked for more, it is because I was pressed not to charge more, but ordinarily these are not my prices.”

Whereupon he lists:

“A simple ascension in a 280 cubic meter balloon capable of carrying the aeronaut — 100F. The cost of gas and travel costs to be borne by the city.” [The first automobile was about a decade away, so gas would presumably have been for the balloon.] “Ascent with a trapeze exercise suspended by one hand — 1,000F. Ascent with a parachute descent — 2,000F and the balloon containing 900 cubic meters of gas carrying 4 persons.” [You might wonder what parachutes were for given the stark absence of airplanes in 1878. Yet they were, apparently, for balloons — the first successful jump from “a great height” — 920 meters — having been made in 1797 by another Frenchman, Jacques Garnerin. I’m going to get my money’s worth from the multimedia encyclopedia that came with my new computer if it kills us.]

“I would suggest to you also to take for 100F some balloons of 5 meters’ height which will descend some 15 or 20 leagues from the city, bearing the names of the cities which commissioned the flight, the letters 50 centimeters in height and each balloon carrying 5 parachutes dropping toys and hard candies — which are a very nice accompaniment to an ascent. I would make a dozen for you if you accept.

“So, Mr. Mayor, there are my prices. If by the end of the week I have not received your answer, I shall consider the matter closed. Please accept, sir, the expression of my deepest respect. Godard, Aeronaut for the Government.”

A hundred years from now, when Bill Gates’ ideas are going to be considered quaint, and today’s Pentium-powered notebooks objects of amusement, will some wiseass autograph collector be quoting his handwritten letters? I think not. Unless I miss my mark, Bill Gates is an e-mail kind of guy.

(Where do you find letters like this? There’s a list of them printed every day. No, wait. That’s NASDAQ. You find these letters via dealers and auctions).

Next Week: What of Mutual Series Now? and Playing the Fool

From Alvin: “Try calling AT&T and ask them to match your lowest rates quoted elsewhere. I did and they came up with 10 cents a minute 24 hours a day.”

OK, I’m too embarrassed — shy — whatever — to do this. But I hope you will, and let me know if you can get the same deal. They’ve made such a point of offering fifteen cents a minute on TV . . . at any time, to anyone, anywhere in the country . . . it would be kind of amazing if you could get them to knock off 33% just by asking.

Separately, the irrepressible Doug Bross, for whom I can’t vouch personally but who certainly seems eager to cut your phone rates, suggests the ATCARD calling card, from a company called ATCALL in Arlington, Virginia. Instead of paying AT&T $1.18 to make an 18-second call from a pay phone — “Leave a message at the beep. BEEEEP.” “Hi, it’s me. Call me.” — ATCARD would charge just a nickel, because its 16-cent rate is chopped up into 6-second increments.

On longer calls, the savings would be larger, though less dramatic in percentage terms. And here I was thinking I was doing pretty well with a card that costs just 25 cents a minute.

According to Doug, there are no surcharges or fees, just a flat 16 cents a minute. “I know people who actually use this INSTEAD of dropping a quarter into the local pay phones,” he says, since for anything under 90 seconds — 24 cents — it’s actually cheaper to use this “long distance” calling card to make local pay-phone calls. “If you’d like further information,” Doug offers hopefully, “feel free to call me at 800-956- 9241.”

Every time I think AT&T stock looks cheap, I think about competition like this and chicken out.

Some months ago, I waxed enthusiastic over My Yahoo. Well, today let me re-wax that one, but shine it even a little brighter. Yahoo now has a clickable “GET LOCAL” near the top of that page (or at the bottom of the general Yahoo “home” page). If you click it, here’s what you get: a place to enter your zip code and then select from all manner of stuff.

Example: MovieLink, which you’ll find in the list on the left. Click that and you can find out what’s playing near you (without that annoying HELLO! AND WELCOME TO MOVIE PHONE! some of us know well). Then, click and get a New York Times review of the movie — and so on.

Weather, restaurants, maps . . . you get the idea.

Many of you are miles ahead of me on all this. But for those websters just feeling their way, like me — check it out.

Tomorrow: More Phone Savings?

Everybody loves the safety of Treasury securities. Everybody from a high-tax state loves the fact that they are local-income-tax exempt, and everybody has to be tempted at the notion of a bond that protects you from inflation, as the soon-to-be-issued inflation-indexed Treasuries will do.

But everyone should be careful, because what’s not commonly understood is the way these bonds are taxed. If you buy them at all, you would want to buy them under the umbrella of a tax-sheltered IRA, Keogh or similar account.

Here’s how it works. Say you buy $10,000 of these bonds and that, when they finally come to market, the “real” interest rate turns out to be 3%. You will get a check for $300 (actually, two semiannual $150 checks, I think). But say inflation the first year is 10%. It won’t be, but this makes the example easy to follow.

The Treasury will acknowledge this by adjusting the principal value of your bonds upward, from $10,000 to $11,000 in this example. (What the market would pay you for the bonds if you chose to sell them in the meantime is another story.) If there were no more inflation from then on, until they matured, you’d get $11,000 at maturity.

The only problem — and it’s a big one — is that this extra $1,000 is taxed as ordinary income, and treated as if you received it this year! You would be expected to pay ordinary income tax on both the $300 interest you received plus the $1,000 you didn’t.

To someone in the 36% federal tax bracket, that would be $360 in tax on the way-off-in-the-distance $1,000 inflation adjustment. So you would have gotten $300 in cash from Uncle Sam and would then have to turn around and pay him $468 — 36% of your $300 interest and $1,000 inflation adjustment.

An interesting form of forced saving, I suppose.

As a patriot, I hope a lot of people buy these bonds. As your financial advisor, I’d suggest you think twice.

Even as part of a retirement plan, you might think twice. The local-tax-free aspect of Treasuries would be wasted, since there’d be no tax at all to pay until withdrawal, at which point withdrawals would be subject to local income taxes. What’s more, while I do think the U.S. stock market is awfully high here, I don’t think Treasuries — even inflation adjusted — are likely to do as well over the long haul as equity investments here and abroad. They’re safer — but you’re paying for that safety.

(Speaking of the Treasury and taxes, don’t forget: Tomorrow is the deadline to send in fourth quarter estimated-tax payments. This applies to you if, through employer withholding plus any prior estimated tax payments, you haven’t yet paid Uncle Sam at least 90% of the 1996 tax that will be due April 15. Exceptions: if the amount you’ve thus far paid Uncle Sam for 1996 equals 100% of your 1995 tax bill — 110% if 1995 adjusted gross income exceeded $150,000 — you’re excused from paying additional estimated tax for 1996.)

Tomorrow: Yahoo for Yahoo!

Mark Wall writes: “Your Paul Warburg piece put me in mind of a question that never quite gets answered and so never goes away. Perhaps you can help. How does one compare a 1996 US DOLLAR with the same unit in any other year? You mentioned that 1933’s $15 equals $180 of 1996’s. How did you figure that out?”

The easy answer: I summoned the Inflator/Deflator module of my trusty old Managing Your Money (DOS Version 12) and just plugged in the numbers. Out popped the answer.

But you may want to know how we programmed Managing Your Money to do this. Basically, we stuck a table into MYM’s innards with each year’s inflation, going back to 1885. If a dollar in 1933 was subject to 10% inflation in 1934 (it wasn’t, but just suppose), then $15 in 1933 would have been the rough equivalent of $16.50 in 1934. I.e., it would have taken about $16.50 in 1934 to buy the same stuff you could have bought in 1933 for $15. Applying each successive year’s change, MYM came out to about $180 by 1996.

What’s interesting of course, in light of the Boskin Commission’s report, is how you measure inflation. Has the cost of living gone up if, by shopping at a warehouse store, you can get stuff for less than you could before there were warehouse stores? Has the cost of living gone up if gas costs twice what it did before, but cars go twice as far on a gallon? Has the cost of living gone up if cars are more expensive but safer? Has the cost of living gone up if steak gets more expensive, but chicken holds steady and you switch to chicken (which health nuts would tell you is better for you anyway)? Has the cost of living gone up if food costs more, but the cost of computing power has plunged?

Some of this is a matter of tinkering with the numbers so that they more accurately reflect the real world. (Because the “basket” of goods regularly priced by the Bureau of Labor Statistics changes so infrequently, many of the downward-plunging prices, like the cost of a megabyte of computer memory, aren’t even included.) But some of it is more a judgment call. I would argue that a safer car is inherently more valuable than a less safe car. Someone else might argue that safety has no value, and thus only the price of the car is relevant. If it’s gone up, the cause is inflation, not “more car for more money.” (Even if it is “more car for more money,” that’s scant consolation to someone living on the edge who simply can’t afford more car, no matter how good the value.)

Movie ticket prices have gone way up compared with 1933. But they’re free on TV and only $2 at the video store . . . has the cost of entertainment rocketed since 1933?

Some of this is taken into account by the statisticians at the Bureau of Labor Statistics, as best they can. But an adjustment in the CPI is long overdue, and — as almost every reputable economist who’s looked at it agrees — it’s not a trick or a scam.

Much has been written about this. If you feel like reading a typical good editorial on the subject, click here.

The good news: a very minor recalibration of the CPI has big, positive implications for our economy. The budget balances easier. (And productivity these past few decades seems healthier and less cause for despair.)

Tomorrow: Inflation-Adjusted Treasuries — Beware

Yesterday, I described a forthcoming book whose author has made a fortune in what he calls the “secret hiding places” of the market — and who kindly shared his latest idea with us.

The case for that stock — NCR — certainly seemed compelling (I bought some), until you read the comments of a leading computer analyst who thinks it’s a screaming short. (I bought it anyway, but chastened.)

Isn’t it interesting how really smart people can have diametrically opposed views?

That reminded me to tell you about a different book, and a different stock. The book is Investment Gurus by my friend Peter Tanous. The stock is (was?) Marvel Entertainment (MRV).

For me, Peter’s book — a series of interviews with 18 “gurus” only a couple of whom, Peter Lynch and Michael Price, you’re likely to recognize — pretty much sets to rest any lingering notions one might have that “you can’t beat the market.” Perhaps you can’t. Perhaps I can’t. But for some of these very smart pros, working at it full time (and delighted to compete with us amateurs), above-average returns clearly are more than luck.

Anyway, there I was reading these interesting interviews Labor Day weekend — which I had to do because I had promised Peter I would write a Foreword to his book, but which I didn’t mind doing, either, because I was learning a lot — and I came to the interview of Laura Sloate. Laura is the only one of Tanous’s 18 I know personally, as a friend. I met her even before she started her own brokerage firm in 1974, Sloate, Weisman, Murray, which now manages more than a billion dollars (remarkable less for the fact that she’s a woman perhaps than that she’s blind).

And there she was talking about Marvel and how she liked it at $14, a price at which billionaire Ron Perelman was buying it too. “And now it’s come down to the $11 area,” she told Peter. “We looked at the cash flows; we looked at the underlying values of the company’s divisions . . . the baseball season should be better than last year — no strike — which will help their trading card business. Ron Perelman is a resourceful guy. He’s got his right-hand man at Marvel, and it’s my guess that at 10-1/2 bucks it’s probably bottomed. So we increased our position. The market won’t believe their story until the turnaround is evident. But in the Spring, these guys got up at a meeting and gave earnings projections by division. Either they want to hang themselves, or they banked those numbers and they’re pretty certain they’ll hit them.”

Hmmm. Wonder where MRV is trading now, I thought as I read this. Would it be cheating, I wondered, to buy some months before this book came out? Some sort of insider trading?

To my surprise, the stock that brilliant Ron and brilliant Laura had bought at 14 — and more of at 10-1/2 — was now 8-5/8. I bought some.

Then, the next time I was on the phone with Laura, I mentioned Marvel. “Oh, we’re out of that,” she said.

“You are?”

It seems she just felt it wasn’t going anywhere and that, while, yes, it was probably undervalued, she had decided not to wait. Indeed, rather than dump her million shares on the open market, which would have depressed the price, she had “shown” them directly to Perelman’s people, who bought them at $10.

This made me very happy. For one thing, it meant that the guys who knew more about MRV’s true value than anyone else — Perelman’s people — were betting $10 million it was going up. For another, it meant that, for once, I was smarter than Laura. (After 23 years, it was about time.)

As those of you who follow these things might guess, I bought more MRV at $4.75, still more at $2.50 and, finally, a few of the bonds at 19 cents on the dollar. A few days later, Perelman put MRV into bankruptcy.

I might do OK on the bonds and the last batch of stock; more likely, I suppose, I’ll lose it all. (Don’t cry for me, Ike and Tina — I had a few good ones last year, too.) But my reason for describing all this is simply to give you the pleasure of feeling superior and to point out what a tough game this is, even when you get to see the manuscript months before anyone else.

Next Week: Thinking About the CPI