Remarkably, some of you not only read our May newsletter — you liked it. In fact, the feedback lit up brighter than a multimeter on a live wire. (Yes, that’s a volt joke.) So, if you were among the enlightened few: thank you. Clearly, your taste — and your dopamine receptors — are in excellent shape
But for those of you who didn’t read it… why on Earth not? Honestly — we had it all:
- A mind-bending account of decision-making so absurd it redefines the phrase “going without a net” to “no net, no plan, and no idea where the ground is.” (Crisis? What Crisis?)
- A David vs. Goliath showdown over medical billing that’ll have you rooting for the underdog – and simultaneously feeling sorry for both your wallet and the Plan’s (Bobby vs. The Bill”)
- A cautionary tale about discounts with hidden strings so devious, you’d need a PhD in behavioral economics to spot them (“Discounts, Deception, and the Game You Didn’t Know You Were Playing.”)
By the way, reading the Fund’s monthly newsletters is a chance to step outside the noise and discover something that might just shift the way you see things. One reader described May’s newsletter as ‘pure gold, wrapped in irony, and laced with just enough insight to make you question everything you thought you knew.’ We’d argue they were being modest.
There’s genuinely a lot of good stuff in these newsletters. But it’s not just about keeping you updated on the usual. What it’s really about is keeping you plugged into the conversation of what is — and more importantly, what could be. The good, the bad, and, dare we say, the downright ugly. (Cue the “Ecstasy of Gold” flute & trumpet section — you know the one, and yes, it's always epic.)
Sure, it's mostly fund-related, but we like to take a few scenic detours into geopolitics, social trends, and the occasional community curveball. All powered by cultural references you should either already know or — let’s face it — be curious enough to look up.
Now, if you choose to ignore this, well… we’ve done our bit. The rest is entirely up to you. No hard feelings — just maybe a little regret.
On That Note ….
Did you miss a newsletter or two? Or five? Let’s just say... you wouldn’t be the first. We’ve always treated communication as a bit of a performance art (think Jackson Pollock, but with bullet points). The full back catalogue is patiently waiting on the Fund’s website — whether you’re catching up or indulging in a bit of a binge, you’ll quickly see why silence has never been our strong suit.
This Ain’t Starbucks Therapy— aka, a Venti Half-Caf with a Side of Emotional Validation-It’s a Newsletter
Now, of course, there are those who expect every message to be tailored just for them, as if each communication should be wrapped in a velvet ribbon and customized like their coffee order or Netflix recommendations. Does this sound like you? Really? Well, we don’t often see your type hanging around the Funds newsletter. So, 'S’up'? Shall we grab a selfie?
But seriously — we can’t tailor everything to everyone. Unless, of course, you’re ready to fund a bespoke, personalized communication (cheques welcome!). Until then, we’ll just have to stick to the broad strokes. So, you’ll just have to pay attention. And no, that’s not a chore. It’s actually a secret advantage.
Not for Nothing….
Repetition is overrated. Even your favorite song becomes background noise when it’s played too often — and we suspect newsletters work the same way. Which is why we’re embracing a heretical little idea: maybe once isn’t just enough… perhaps once is elegantly plenty.
And judging by what many of you tell us — it is. Who would we be to question such impeccable taste?
But let’s be clear: this isn’t about efficiency. It’s about precision — the art of getting something so right the first time, it doesn’t need a sequel. Think of it like bending a 20-foot length of four-inch conduit into four perfect 45-degree angles — in a zig-zag pattern to account for obstacles – with no couplings, no kinks, no second chances. It’s not fast. It requires patience, planning, and the kind of quiet stubbornness that refuses to fudge the details.
Further, and in a world that shouts “more is more,” doing something properly — once — is practically subversive. But here’s the thing: it works. Most members don’t need reminders. They need clarity. And clarity — like good design, or a level run of conduit – should look simple, clean and so natural you don’t even notice or remember that it took hours of sweat, planning and the occasional curse word to get it right.
Here’s the deal: We’re not in the business of bombarding you with endless messages. No encores. No fluff. Why? As we stated prior, you’re already sharp — and sharp people don’t need noise; they need clarity. And clarity, as you know, comes from paying attention and noticing what matters. So, let’s put it plainly: paying attention isn’t just responsible — it’s how you stay ahead.
Let’s be clear: should a surprise reminder or unexpected update land in your lap, don’t treat it like a glitch or worse, an annoyance—treat it like magic. It’s the digital equivalent of opening a bag of a dozen donuts and discovering an extra one rattling at the bottom. It wasn’t promised. It’s not policy. It’s pure, delightful surplus.
And therein lies the point. In a world increasingly optimized for efficiency, that tiny, unnecessary gesture signals something far rarer than competence—it signals care. Not the corporate, checkbox kind, but the quietly human sort. A rogue act of generosity. A wink from the universe, or at least from someone who still believes delight beats duty.
It’s irrational. It’s inefficient. And precisely because of that—it works. Like all the best pleasures, it isn’t part of the plan. That’s why it feels like a gift. But remember, the general consensus from the membership is “once is enough” and their right. But if you don’t agree with that, well, there’s always the SPD and the website.
So, stay sharp. Keep your eyes peeled. Because the last thing you want is to be the one who missed out — like skipping tickets to the last Dead & Friends tour, thinking they’d swing by next year. Ouch!