Alexander Green - The Gone Fishin' Portfolio

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020053702

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020053703

COVER DESIGN: PAUL MCCARTHY

COVER IMAGES: GETTY IMAGES: © VMAKT (WATER) | © SKODONNELL (BILLS)

This book is dedicated to the most inspiring and best man I’ve ever known, my father, H. Braxton Green.

If a man writes a book, let him set down only what he knows. I have guesses enough of my own.

Source: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Money was big in my household in the 1950s and 1960s. We didn't have very much and my parents were children of the Great Depression. That meant financial doom was always near because if it happened once, it could happen again. Therefore, having money was ultra-important.

My father worked for Caltex, commuting into New York City for low wages. He worked in the oil company's treasury department. He kept track of money that flowed from the Persian Gulf.

My mother was a housewife on a budget. Tuna, boiled hotdogs, fish sticks and Mallomars were on the weekly menu. On weekends, my father grilled flank steak. The O'Reilly family had a used car, a manual lawnmower and a few chairs on the patio.

We lived in Levittown, New York. It was like communism. Everyone pretty much had the same resources. Which were not many.

I needed money for ice cream. The Good Humor truck. Bungalow Bar, Judy Ann. Occasionally, my mom would slip me a quarter for a toasted almond bar. Life was sweet when that happened.

At age 10, I recognized that my father was not going to give me the cash I needed to live in the style I wanted to become accustomed to. So I went to work. Cutting lawns in the summer, shoveling snow off driveways in the winter. My sister and I did not receive an allowance for chores. We did them gratis in return for Sugar Frosted Flakes.

My father was frugal. He was afraid. A big 6-foot, 3-inch former naval officer, he feared the worst. That he would lose his job and not be able to “provide.” He saw plenty of Irish go under in 1930s Brooklyn. Until the day he died, he feared financial ruin.

So he saved, rarely spent. When I was 14, we took a bus from Long Island to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, during Easter vacation. About halfway down, in South Carolina, I said, “Hey, Dad, next time just shoot me, and you, Mom and Janet go.”

I think he felt guilty about the bus ride, because he paid for a water skiing lesson in Fort Lauderdale. I got right up because I knew there would be no second lesson.

My teenaged years were spent playing sports and working. I slung ice cream at Carvel, was a swimming instructor and then hit the jackpot: I began my own business painting houses. Made nice money. Never asked my parents for a nickel. I'm proud of that to this day.

America is an exceptional place, and the socialists are full of it. If you work hard, get educated, and practice self-control and honesty, you will make money. There are more ways to do that here than anywhere else in the world.

But once money flows in, then a different set of problems develops. What do you do with your wages after taxes? Buy stupid stuff? Order $75 steaks? Zip around in a Ferrari?

Not me. Like my father, I saved and, fortunately, the money grew.

Then, my broadcasting and writing career exploded and capitalism paid me a serious visit. The only other neighborhood guy who had made it big was Billy Joel. I used to see him around wearing a leather jacket in July. Billy had that James Dean thing going on, and even dropped out of high school.

But he made huge money after “Piano Man.” Problem was his manager stole a lot of it.

That didn't happen to me. I had honest representation. So my money accumulated. But I had no idea what to do with it. Because he feared losing money with stocks, my father bought municipal bonds. I bought a few as well. But I knew there was something more out there.

After flailing around with various financial newsletters, I stumbled upon Alexander Green and The Oxford Club in 2003. I analyzed what Alex was writing and bought some Berkshire B. Still have it, very strong return. Very strong.

So I stuck with Alex. Didn't know him personally but looked forward to his monthly newsletter. Didn't always make money but Alex's stock suggestions sure increased my net worth. I became a lifetime Oxford Club Member.

Then a couple of years ago, Oxford called me out of the blue. They wanted me to interview Alex for an infomercial.

Now, I never do that kind of thing. I am not a pitchman, I'm a journalist who delivers fact-based opinion. But after thinking it over, I decided to do business with Oxford and Alex. The reason is that I want people to succeed as I have in the markets. Alexander Green is a superb stock selector and a very smart guy. I want as many people as possible to know about him.

So that's my story, which leads into Alex's story. The book you are reading is subtitled Get Wise, Get Wealthy … and Get On with Your Life . It is well worth the time you are investing to read it.

So let's get going. There is wisdom to be had, and money to be made. You'll see.

Bill O'Reilly

Long Island

October 2020

In early 2003, I created a new investment portfolio for subscribers to The Oxford Communiqué and gave it a lighthearted name: the Gone Fishin’ Portfolio. After a few years of market-beating returns, multinational publishing house John Wiley & Sons asked if I would write a book about it. I agreed.

I knew I had an excellent strategy to share with the world. However, I also realized that most financial advice has a short shelf life. Things change quickly in the world and in markets. Even the best investment letters written by the most insightful analysts are soon lining the reader's birdcage. A book, by contrast, gives an author the opportunity to make a considered argument, flesh out his or her case, and answer potential objections or criticisms.

But then, who needed another investment book, then or now? The shelves in my home were already groaning with titles on stock selection, value investing, trading strategies, asset allocation, global diversification and many other topics. I learned a lot from those books, but it wasn't always what the authors intended.

I discovered that no matter how smart, how experienced or how insightful the advice-giver, investment predictions—with the luxury of hindsight—can appear not just wide of the mark but foolish. Indeed, many investment books from years past stand out primarily as cautionary tales about pride and hubris.

The authors who made a compelling case for their investment approach were often short on specifics. For example, if high returns could be made investing in value stocks, great—but which ones? Sure, the author could offer a screen using price-to-sales, price-to-earnings, price-to-book, dividend yield or other financial metrics. But how many readers were actually equipped to do this—and to follow through with an equally rigorous sell discipline? Not many. The author could make specific stock recommendations, of course, but, in most cases, that is better done in an e-letter since the economy and financial markets change quickly.

The advice given in most investment books is either too ambiguous or, conversely, specific but soon dated. No wonder so few investment books are considered classics.

My goal was to break this trend and offer timeless investment advice that told readers exactly how and where to invest their money and in what percentages. And that's exactly what I did with the first edition of The Gone Fishin’ Portfolio .

I soon learned there was an eager market for this kind of book. The week of its publication it soared to No. 2 on Amazon's list of nonfiction bestsellers and hit The New York Times ’ bestseller list the following week.