This post is in response to "Kinni" who commented on
my review of the latest Bridget Jones's movie.
"Kinni" asks the following question.
"Did someone chain you to your chair? I've never understood a person who sits through an entire movie and hates the whole thing (meaning I need an explanation for my own behavior, as well)."
So why did I stay to see the end of this really horrible movie? (Why do I almost always read a dreadful book all the way to the end? I've
tackled this topic once before, but perhaps I didn't delve deep enough into it.)
Here are some reasons why I stayed in the theater for this horrible movie.
I didn't have anything else to do. I am only counting the things I had an actual opportunity to do and felt sufficiently motivated to actually consider. At that moment it was either a movie or a nap. A movie seemed like it might be a more entertaintaining option.
I was thinking of you, the blog audience. I knew you would appreciate my insights later. No sacrifice is too great, no movie too horrible, if only I can blog about it later.
I didn't really think the movie could get much worse. So since I knew it was bad, and it probably wasn't going to get any better, as least my hopes aren't going to be dashed.
I paid the money. I had invested $4.75 in seeing this movie, by golly I was going to get everything the movie had to offer me. Unfortunately, it was only a nickels worth of entertainment in the end.
It's possible that the movie could have redeemed itself by the end. You always have to posess hope; it might have gotten better by the end, it was mathematically possible.
Early in the movie I started thinking about what the movie meant in terms of exploring the notion of "human awkwardness". While the plot, the script, the acting were all sub-par, there were some interesting ideas contained in the movie. Unfortunately, it was only 15 minutes or so of good ideas.
Staying until the end is a funny notion. I have often described to people the difference between the feeling of investing in a stock long or for the long term and buying or selling options. When you go long on a stock, you can always fool yourself that it will come back someday. You can convince yourself that short of bankruptcy and delisting, someday you be back "in the money" again.
This isn't the case when buying and selling options. Once you hit the date where the option contract expires, there is no fooling yourself. Either you made money, or you lost money. When you are "in the money" on an options position, I find myself very conservative about additional risk. It's more like a case of "I made my money, now let's get out while the getting is good."
Shorting stocks feels similar too, because you have to imagine paying out money if the stock price is going up and you have buy the stock back when you are out of the money. In shorting, you actually have to actively managed being wrong. If you don't , with nearly infinite downside, you could theoretically bankrupt yourself. You're not going to do that, but you can think about it that way. (I've heard shorting described as unleashing "infinite risk" upon oneself. I have never yet seen a stock proceed to infinity. Until the day arrives when a stock reaches an infinite price, I suggest that the risk is high, and you have to have the time to pay attention to your short positions.)
Isn't a significant part of life all about hope? Someday we all hope that life will get better. Almost all of us stay to the end, hoping it will get better. I for one plan on staying in my seat until the last credit rolls and the staff starts to clean out the theater.
