Webtrading's Recommended Commodity Broker

Click-Here for Amazing Trading Secrets

Click-Here to Read About W D Gann's Amazing Trading & information in Gann Trading Courses

Click-Here for Trader Search Engine

Click-Here to Read "Phantom of the Pits"

Commodity Futures Traders Glossary

   Make Us Your Homepage   Advertise On This Site    

Special Report #10 - Joe Ross Report

Written by Joe Ross for CTCN

Because I had an "attitude" problem, I became an "attitude" problem. Much of my first 6-years were spent out of class. My first grade teacher made me stand in the cloak room (I don't know how many of your readers know what a cloak room is, but it is a coat closet at the rear of the classroom having an open entry at either end).

She told my second grade teacher that I was a problem child with an attitude problem, so from the inception, I was treated as one. To help bring this to pass, and in my resentment at what was happening to me in school, when my second grade teacher also put me in the cloak room, I fixed her by urinating all over the coats and jackets of the other children. This brought me my first promotion, I now had the privilege of standing out in the hall.

Eventually, because I raised such a ruckus out in the hall, I matriculated to the Principal's office, where I spent most of the remainder of my elementary school education. The Principal had a wooden leg and he thought it was real cute to boot me with it now and again. I could fill a book with stories of the ingenious ways I got even with my teachers and the principal, suffice it to say I was a "holy terror." They couldn't wait to graduate me, which they did at age 11 just to get rid of me. I learned how to handle rejection. I learned patience and humility and also learned to fight back.

My outlet for frustrations was to go into business. I did that at age 8. 1 made my first trade when I was 8 years old. I collected all the old clothing I could carry on a wagon my dad had made for me, and I traded it to the rag dealer for money. That summer, I shined shoes at Union Station in L.A. for more money. When school started, because the government requested it for the war effort, I asked all the neighbors to save bacon fat for me. I collected it and sold it to the butcher for $.65 a pound.

I scrounged for soda and beer bottles, collected them in my wagon, and hauled them to the factory where I got a penny for a small bottle and three pennies for a large bottle. My first seasonal trade came when I read in a comic book about how much money I could make selling greeting cards. I sold Christmas cards during the season. I was learning how to sell myself and to make diligent effort.

By the time I was 11, I was a hard-nosed businessman. I was lending money to my parents, and I loaned them enough to help them move us out of the slums. We moved to West Los Angeles, a few miles South of UCLA. The year was 1946, and I needed a job. I went to the L.A. Times dealer and asked for a delivery route. He laughed at me and said we don't hire kids. I went to the L.A Examiner dealer. He didn't want to hire me at age 11. He said he didn't have any routes open and that I was too young. I asked him who his best carrier was. He pointed out one of the kids working there. I waited for that kid and beat the crap out of him and told him I was taking over his route. He never came back, and the next day I got the route, it had 100 customers. By the time I was 15, 1 had built the route to 1,000 customers. I refused to take no for an answer. I kept knocking on doors until the people subscribed just to get rid of me.

Then I wormed my way into their hearts with good service. I learned that from my dad who taught me to always give more than is expected. Most of my additional 900 customers came at the expense of the LA Times dealer. He hated my guts. At Christmas time, I used to collect over $1,000 in tips from my customers. I never failed to put a paper on the porch. No customer of mine ever had to fish his paper off a wet lawn or out of the bushes. Because I had sold so many new subscriptions, I won enough bats, balls, and gloves to field a major league team. I received dozens of awards under the Examiner's "Little Merchant" program.

Finally, I won a 1938 Chevy Roadster and money towards a college education. I was too young to drive, so I sold the Roadster and on the recommendation of my best friend's father, took the money from the sale and along with my scholarship fund, I bought shares of White Motor Company and made money on them. It was my first Stock Market trade. I was 15-years old.

School was still my nemesis, but I knew how to make money. My friend's father was a professional trader. He was home a lot. I asked him how he made his money. He showed me, and I was hooked. My own dad worked his butt off all his life for peanuts. My friend's dad played golf and polo, and hung out at the country club. We lived in a fixer-upper, my friend lived in a mansion. My career goal was set. I had to be in some kind of business. I did not want to work for somebody else. I did not want to have a job. I learned the lessons of persistence, salesmanship, service, how to overcome the competition, and that I had self-worth.

My friend's dad took me to the Pacific Coast Stock Exchange office in Westwood Village. I was fascinated by what I saw there. A lot of older men were sitting around looking at a tote-board. A clerk, who could write mirror image was posting stock prices. At the top of the tote-board was an electric ticker and stock prices moved across where everyone could see them. Many of the men seated there had a phone and they were buying and selling. That set the hook even deeper.

I can still picture it vividly in my mind. They were sitting there making money, and they were having fun. But how could a dumb yuck like me ever do that? I could barely read and couldn't do numbers. I was a total rebel. I could not stand any kind of authority over me. I learned that you don't have to work hard, you have to work smart.

When I was 17, my boss at the L.A. Examiner asked me to collect his bad debts. His territory included the wealthy areas of Fox Hills, Brentwood, Bel-Air and Westwood. He had many bad debts because the rich people living in those areas simply felt it too much of a bother to write the small check for the newspaper subscription. Others, were simply irresponsible. All were very wealthy. My boss offered me 10% of everything I could collect. Another friend's father owned a collection agency in Santa Monica. Among other questions, I asked him what I should charge. He said to charge one-third. I told my boss this. He yelled and cursed. I told him I wouldn't do it for less.

The next day amidst more cursing and yelling, he agreed to pay 1/3. I didn't have much luck collecting until I hired a friend to help me. He was six and a half feet tall, wore a leather jacket, rode a motorcycle, and was ugly and mean looking. I offered him 5% if he would go with me. We would pull up on his motorcycle, "rap off' loudly, and then go up to the front door. It was truly amazing how the money poured in. Pretty soon, we were collecting for the milkman and the breadman. I was making more money than my dad. I learned the lessons of polite intimidation and resourcefulness. I was also polishing my ability to think on my feet.

My trading methodology is such that I still haven't been able to get it down on paper after having written 6 books with a 7th in progress.

My whole approach to trading is so vastly different than your own. From what I gather, you are primarily a systems' trader with a methodology. My own trading style is eclectic. I approach the market with a vast toolbox full of techniques. I trade the markets dozens of different ways. You and your readers have seen one of them in articles on S&P trading. But quite frankly, I would be bored to tears if I had to trade only one way. My nature is that of an adventurer. Even though one simple technique for trading the S&P may suffice for making money. I can't stand to do only one thing. My trading jumps all over the place. I'll fall in love with Options and trade the dickens out of them. Then I get bored and switch over to Spread Trading. Other times I look at outright futures trades. I almost always trade on News, if I feel it gives me some sort of edge. Seasonality plays a large factor in my trading.

I don't care if a market is treading or going sideways. I don't care if is exploding or collapsing. As long as I have the right tool for trading what I see, I'll go for it. I have used and still use darn near every technical study ever invented. Yet I prefer to simply trade what I see on a plain vanilla bar chart.

In the last few years I have traded almost exclusively in the Interbank because I don't have time for short-term trading anymore. Being an educator is my most recent passion. There is little thrill for me in only trading the markets. I want to teach others how to do it. The challenge of doing that is utmost in my life these days. I'm having a lot of successes, but there are still more traders who fail than who make it. Helping others has been the most rewarding thing I've ever done -- better than just trading for money.

My trading methodology, if I have one, is to have learned how to read a chart and to know which tool to use and when to use it. Almost everything I do works, because I've learned how to trade. I think articles have been explaining that concept to Commodity Traders Club readers. A lot of my trading is intuitive, judgmental and based on what I see happening when I go to trade. The least part of my trading is involved with entry. It's what I do once I'm in the market that counts. That aspect of my trading is almost entirely subjective, and based upon long years of learning personal discipline. When I am trading, I know who I am, what I am able to do, and where I'm going. To me, trading is at least 80-percent personal discipline.

Click-here for list of all FREE Trading Reports

© Copyright 1997-2008 by Webtrading.com