I’m writing this on May 20th, 2021, a day after the crypto markets took a nice little nose dive in the early hours. Bitcoin plummeted over 50% from its peak and my crypto board was flashing red all morning. Doing my best to not be jolted, I instead channeled multiple market psychology quotes about buying into panic and buying when there is blood in the streets, yadda yadda yadda. I pulled a small bit of reserve cash for such an event and set to put it to use.
I couldn’t get any transactions completed on any of my exchanges as they all spit out BS errors. The prices fell a bit further. I had a knee jerk thought to log onto my brokerage account and capitalize on the panic. I sold a vertical call spread on COIN which I got full profits in the course of an hour as traders panicked and sold crypto and every thing tied to it with a fury. I took the profits and was finally able to buy a bit of the dip, albeit at a rising price. When all was said and done, the markets rose and stabilized out almost as quickly as it had started. I’d come out ahead and successful during my first major Bitcoin “crash”….or in all reality a somewhat anticipated market correction. Let’s be honest though I really had no clue what I was doing. It reminded me a lot of my first “fire.”
Your first fire is a sort of right of passage. It’s crazy and chaotic and you really have no idea how to handle the dynamic response. You try to keep up with the major movers and shakers and you do everything you can to be productive. You look like a chicken with your head cut off. You’re lost, confused, and spinning to be productive. It’s terrifying and exciting and IF you play your cards right, you learn a ton of great things so you don’t mess up nearly as bad the next time.
My first “fire,” was in a rock quarry. A conveyor belt on a large hopper caught fire. The column of smoke could be seen for miles and as we raced to the fire, my heart pounded in exhilaration. I had talked a big game and learned a lot in training, but this was finally the opportunity to perform. Although there wasn’t the usual concerns of rescuing victims and protecting adjacent property, this was a very challenging fire. We needed a lot of water but had no fire hydrants. Burning debris fell down onto the ground making access via a stairwell next to impossible. Captains and chiefs were scratching their heads on how to proceed, seasoned firefighters were sizing up the burning tower, and us new firefighters were so damn excited to see a real fire. Excited, but also scared. Crews stacked up waiting for assignments. The radio chatter was a mix of excitement and frustration for not being able to do much. The tension was palpable.
I’ll never forget through the chaos on the radio as people struggled to gain safe access to the tower and work out water supply issue, there were two people that stood out vividly. First, as we waited for assignment patiently over the radio in the order at which we arrived, I saw a red helmet saunter on foot calmly up line of rigs to the incident commanders SUV at the front of the stack. “That’s some old school skipper tactics right there. Cool and calm,” my captain beamed smiling at me. BIXLER was stenciled across the walking captain’s name plate. Frustrated at the pace of the fire, unable to get out on the communications channel, my father calmly walked up and gave his two cents on how to begin solving the issues. We began to go to work soon after.
My father, Captain Bixler, had a plan to ladder as close to the fire floor as possible so we could minimize the dangers of falling debris. From there we would establish hose lays and work progressively from the bottom of the fire to the top of the involved area. We’d eradicate the fire on one floor and then move up to the next. We got the aerial ladders in place and began climbing up with hose packs doing out best not to get hit by falling rocks and burning bits of rubber. Fire blew out of every orifice of the machinery and it felt like whack a mole trying to get the fire extinguished. We soon realized that it was a worthless pursuit as the conveyor belt was still in operation as it burned. It would propel burning rubber up to the top of the tower and then dump it down lower and reignite what we had extinguished.
Of course I didn’t know any of this. I was so lost and confused. The second person of this story, a captain from another apparatus yelled to me “Little Bix(ler), follow me with that hose line!” He disappeared into the smoke and flames up some stairs. I tried to extinguish as much as I could as I struggled to keep up. I was nervous about getting above so much fire, but also nervous to disappoint this captain, who I knew from before getting on the fire department. He was a good family friend and helped me to pursue my career. I would hate to let him down, but holy crap, I hoped he was right.
The captain, myself and my partner, who was also a new firefighter, traversed over to a lesser involved section of the tower and bee lined it for the top. Once there we were able to see the end of the conveyor belt dropping burning bits of rubber down to reignite the floors below. From this perspective, we were able to flow water down into the flaming machinery, extinguishing everything as it got pushed upwards. The water flow downwards to extinguish the rest. It was a brilliant tactic that I take no credit for.
First fire over, I learned so much about staying calm and working through a very complex situation. I got so lucky to experience my first fire with my father and a great family friend. Besides that, I learned that every fire or complex emergency is an opportunity to grow and learn. I learned that there is more to the basics and that any problem can be calmly and rationally worked through. After an initial hiccup, I realized that the decision makers decided to fight the fire on their terms aggressively and with precision. Walking through fire to go above it and flow water from the top was a calculated risk, but given a limited water supply, it made the most use of our limited resource and it worked. I realized that day that every action on the fire ground is a calculated risk, but if it is thought out and makes sense, piecing together hundreds of these logical decisions can make any emergency another day at the office.
I remember this story today because in the midst of the market chaos, I texted the same captain that lead me up the flaming stairs. Now retired, he has taken up trading options for fun and has gotten quite good at it. This was after I had profited from a short position on COIN and “bought the dip” of Bitcoin. I thought I was a genius by hedging a small position I had on Bitcoin and generating funds to fund the small BTC addition of the dip, but I just wanted to see if he thought it was a good idea. He replied some humbling words. I felt like the probationary firefighter all over again. I had traded with my emotion, not my brain. I took a swing at a pitch I probably shouldn’t have and I had not looked into the underlying fundamentals. In firefighter terms, I was the probationary firefighter in my first fire. I walked out unscathed, but holy crap, what was I thinking?!?!? What was I doing. I was nothing like those two captains at my very first fire.
Moving forward in my career, I know to look at every fire as a chance to learn and a chance to improve for future emergencies. I plan on using that same mentality in my options trading. It’s time to get serious about learning technical analysis of stocks and crypto assets. It’s time to learn how to trade for reliable profits on my terms. I’ll be honest, I have been pretty successful so far with managed risk options strategies so far, but as we say in the fire service, “There is nothing worse than a three year firefighter. They think they know everything, but in reality they don’t know anything.” I’m still a worthless probie in the investment world. I got my first “fire” and walked out unscathed. It’s time to move forward smartly.
The Firefighter Economist 