This article is homage to the most popular original “Star Trek” episode: “The Trouble with Tribbles.” For those who are non-trekkies, don’t let the theme dissuade you. And for those of you who bleed green, eat “Gahk,” and who know what a “Jeffries Tube” is, please don’t treat me like “Red Shirt #1.” I am not a “Herbert.”

A Tribble was a cute little furry creature whose only purpose in life was to purr contentedly when petted, thus soothing its owner. We learned that their only other functions were to eat, procreate—in fact, they were born pregnant—and hate Klingons. The Tribbles discovered that the valued shipment of the seed grain “Quatro-triti-cali” was poisoned when some Tribbles found their way into the storage bins and starved to death while gorging themselves on the cargo. The Klingons had perpetrated the foul deed. In the end, as the Klingons beat a hasty retreat, all of the living Tribbles were beamed into the “Bird of Prey’s” engine room, gumming up the works.  Read More

You Are Still a Financial Advisor, Even if You Have a Temporary Disability

The follies of my youth revisited me over the last six months. Back in the 1970s I fell off my “Tony Orlando shoes.” I was young and indestructible, so I didn’t bother seeing a doctor about my sprained ankle. It took a few weeks to stop hurting, but then all seemed well. Over the decades (dare I say “centuries”) I had a weak ankle that might hurt from time-to-time, but otherwise I gave it no further thought. Flash forward to 2010. That ankle started hurting bad enough for me to go to the doctor. Four doctors, a walking boot, two casts, crutches, and a brace later, the peroneus brevis and peroneus longus tendons started snapping and fraying like the worn speedometer cable of a 1964 Dodge Dart. Surgery became immediately necessary, and the doctor says that I won’t be walking for at least three weeks, maybe longer.  Read More