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I FEEL GRATITUDE for the life I’ve had. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few regrets: Friendships that turned sour or simply faded away. People who died before I got to see them one last time. Professional endeavors where I felt I could have done better. Purchases I made that didn’t live up to my expectations.
But my list of regrets has three glaring omissions.
First, it doesn’t include any of the investments I’ve made. This isn’t because all my investments have performed well. Far from it. As a globally diversified investor, my portfolio includes plenty of duds. But that’s the nature of diversification. You’re always going to own some of the world’s stinkers.
Perhaps I’d feel differently if I picked individual stocks or actively managed funds, rather than favoring index funds. But with index funds, owning everything comes with the territory, so I don’t feel badly when I suffer poor performance.
What’s the second area where I have no regrets? It’s the purchases I resisted making. In fact, while there are plenty of purchases that I wish I hadn’t made, there’s only one purchase that I failed to make which—in retrospect—I regret.
Why do some of my purchases show up on the regret meter, but almost none of the purchases I failed to make? No doubt it is, in large part, because it’s easier to recall the purchases I made. In many cases, those purchases are still with me, reminding me of my mistake—which is why I should probably throw or give these items away. That brings me to my third non-regret: I can’t think of a single possession that I’ve given away or thrown away that I’d like to have back.
From this, I draw two lessons: If I’m agonizing over whether to make a purchase, I should simply walk away, because it’s unlikely I’ll later regret my failure to buy. And if I make a purchase I regret, I shouldn’t have any qualms about unloading it.
What’s the lone purchase that I failed to make, but which I still regret? It was a painting by Victor Vignon, a minor 19th century French impressionist whose circle of acquaintances included Camille Pissarro and Paul Cezanne. The painting was on eBay and sold for around $2,000. My then-wife declared that she didn’t like it and that I shouldn’t buy it, but I still find myself occasionally musing about the painting.
No, this wasn’t the reason for our divorce.
Sage advice, Jonathan.
I truly regret that when I was young and naive, I stayed too heavily invested in my employer’s stock and did not diversify, and I paid for my ignorance. But I’ve never regretted any other purchases that I made, even those I sold out at a loss, because I understand and accept that they were sunk costs I could do nothing about. And with every loss comes a lesson. On balance, I’ve done very well, especially with index funds.
And, like you, I regret not buying a piece of art I loved. But it was a silkscreen with a few dozen prints made, so I keep looking for one of them to resurface at auction, and if one does, I will jump. I think I might still win the one that got away.
A painting by Jack B Yeats (brother of William Butler Yeats) in a shop in Dublin in the late 80’s before he was “known”. The $1,000 price was steep but in retrospect I could have managed it. Now it is in the millions. The painting was/is one I could relate to – a beach I spent summers at as a child. And it is a good painting … it is not the money that I regret but the possibility of having a painting I could relate to but that was slightly out of my reach.
Regrets. I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention—sings Old Blue Eyes. Interesting self-inquiry. I don’t regret ANY purchases (well, maybe that lemon Opel that burned through oil).
I DO regret touching and/or cashing out investment and retirement accounts (an early Merrill Lynch Sharebuilder, a state pension fund). And some of my late, tech-savvy, futurist brother’s stock tips turned out to be dogs (NNLX!) but I have been more than well-compensated with others (IONQ, RGTI and JOBY!).
And, as a lifelong arts administrator, owning a Vignon would be deeply satisfying. Why not buy one now? Surround yourself with things you love now that you know death is closer than you once imagined. And what a gift to your heirs to eventually own something you treasured so much.
As I mentioned below, I do own two Vignons — neither was expensive and both still grab my attention. Art that you love is captivating.
I bought a car in the 80’s at auction for $40k and sold it for $60k (I was in the business) today it is worth over $2Mil…..no regrets ….I have lost in love but won now with a wife of over 30 years……we all have regrets but not to dwell on the past but live in the glory of the present……live life as it is your last day because it may be
I love looking at art in museums, but I’m no expert collector. But I do have a quirky story about a piece of art I own. In 2002, my beloved San Francisco Giants were in the World Series. The late Thomas Kincaid did a painting of the gorgeous ballpark during Game 5 of the series. The following year, at a “fan fest” event, they were selling 100 autographed copies of the prints for a $100 donation to the Giants Community Fund. Kincaid’s work is not really my cup of tea at all, but this was a lovely re-creation of the park during a special moment, so I got it (and Kincaid was actually there signing them, so I briefly met him).
Some years later, when Kincaid suddenly passed away, the value of his pieces skyrocketed. I looked up my World Series print online and saw that they were selling for $3000! It’s still hanging above my computer in our home office.
Regrets? What if I had started my tax business when I was 20? What if I had divorced before having children? What if I held onto my 67 Cougar XR7, or the 70 Mark Donahue Javelin, or that 69 AMX? I would have made a lot more money, and I’d have 3 very cool classic muscle cars. But I wouldn’t be exactly where I am today. Two beautiful and brilliant daughters along with their families, happily married to Chris, financially secure (even though I earned less than I could have). Life is good, no regrets here.
But that first paragraph does hit the nail on the head regarding some lost friends. So yes, maybe a few regrets.
Hi Jonathan, I’m not a collector but deeply appreciative of the pastoral, peaceful and idyllic qualities of the rural landscapes painted by Victor Avignon. I especially like that most of them include small vignettes of people.
i somehow think you’ll have another chance in future to add another Vignon to your collection and I know Elaine will love it.
Correction in 1st paragraph..Vignon.
I am an experienced art collector, and I well know that most of the paintings on eBay are fake. Perhaps JC dodged a bullet, unless he has enough knowledge to be able to evaluate the painting himself. Most of the fakes on eBay are very obvious, but there are good fakes of every listed artist in circulation. Without a catalog raisonne, buyers are flying blind unless they buy vetted pieces with good provenance from an auction house that has a staff of experts – and even those places can make a mistake.
I’m not an art collector but a lover of Impressionist painting. We went to VN and found a painter that reproduced this painting, Woman with a Parasol – Madame Monet and her son. We had it hung in our main living room. Yes, it was a fake but I don’t care. Our guests thought it is beautiful duplicate copy
My wife, instead of buying a sofa, decided to go lavish by getting a Yamaha Grand piano to go with that painting I mentioned above. I was a bit upset at the time but as I sit in that room, reading my book, and sometime glancing at that fake piece of art, I don’t regret the splurge.
I was thrilled when my son sent me a text recently that “my” Magritte, Empire of Light, just sold for $121 million. He joked that I should increase my homeowners insurance. My framed poster has been hanging in one room or another (currently my bedroom) for most of his 47 years. One the other hand, though I’m no expert collector, I’ve started to buy some artwork from our local co-op gallery where I personally know most of the artists. I often stop in to chat during my walks around town. My small collection won’t add much to the value of my downsized home and possessions but, like your piano, it gives me pleasure every day. Happy Thanksgiving All!
Jonathan, we often see a list of the things in life “that really matter.” You’ve presented the inverse–the things that don’t. Nicely done, and great insight.
I like Vignon more than some of his better known contemporaries. But it’s this sentence that caught my eye.
“My then-wife declared that she didn’t like it and that I shouldn’t buy it.”
Those words would never be heard in my house.
More like – I don’t like it, but if you really do, buy it or you will regret it.” Perhaps with the added, it’s your money.”
I’m allowed to buy the painting, but probably not hang.
Secret of a good relationship: live and let live. God bless you and Connie. There’s no question in my mind what you’re most grateful for, Dick! 💕
Maybe you should go for a Vignon or at least throw in some low bids in the upcoming auctions just for the heck of it? Vignon’s landscapes are not only enjoyable but also provide a solid investment at now 2-4 times the value you would have paid in the past.
https://www.1stdibs.com/creators/victor-alfred-paul-vignon/art/paintings/
https://www.mutualart.com/Artist/Victor-Alfred-Paul-Vignon/39A1EDFA9F3B47CE/artworks-for-sale?Type=Upcoming_ForSale
Ha! Free shipping. It should be at $9K – $28K.
Looking at sold items, Victor Vignon paintings sold by respectable auction houses like Doyle and Bonhams seem to go in the $3000-7000 range, plus 25% buyers premium. The lesser houses get lower prices, but their paintings may or may not be real.
At auction, Vignon’s can sell for under $5K. Those other prices may be the “I really don’t want to sell it prices.” Still, nice impressionist landscapes that don’t cost millions.
John: Thanks for the suggestion. I already own two Vignons. Probably enough!