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Hope all goes well. How’s your weekend amigo? Cool. Mine’s good too. Usual stuff. Family. Writing. Reading. Few vodka tonics. Saturday red-eye to London. I kinda feel bad for those policy-makers across the globe. No rest for the weary. Yeah, poor fellas up all night these days. G8. May 23rd EU Summit (18th since crisis erupted). Emergency calls. You see, the crisis is transitioning. To the street.
Hope all goes well. I got the bug. Pretty bad. But hey, you do too. Wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t. Gamble, that is. Of course, we ain’t alone. Men been weighing risk/reward, calculating probabilities and placing bets, from the day some bold gambler stuck a Wooly Mammoth (betcha $1mm he got laid that night). Anyhow, as I crawled up rocks this wk, looking left, right, up – and down – evaluatin
Hope all goes well. Brought Wolf and Keeve. Golden Retrievers. There’s no better breed. Oh, you disagree? Well, you’re wrong. Strong, gentle, kind, they’d follow you through Hell, tails waggin. Oh, you want smart too? Well, go find yourself a f’in PhD. Anyhow, we scaled Dragon’s Back. Leaping boulder to boulder. Eyed my initials, Mara’s too, carved deep into stone. From an earlier climb. Oh, don’t
Hope all goes well. Toured our 51st state. Great White North. Ya know, over 70% of Canadian exports go to the US. That dwarfs French exports to Germany (15%). Or German exports to Italy (6%). And yet, Canada still has its own currency. Loonie right? But I used my Amex, so never noticed – not sure anyone really does. They called Canada a Banana Republic in the early 90’s. Because it was. Then they
Hope all goes well. Had a tough wk. But not as bad as my buddy Matt. Who got attacked by 12 sharks. 8-10 footers. In open ocean. He left his head-cam on. So I got to watch the video. A deckhand was cleaning fish, threw scraps overboard. Bloody chum always gets animal spirits going – just ask Bernanke – and excited sharks rose from the depths. But you know, real life attacks ain’t like the mo
Hope all goes well. Snuck down to the water. Early. To watch the storm roll in. And walked along the beach. Alone. As the sea churned. Lifted by a fearsome wind. That wiped the sand clean. And striped trees of dead leaves. Branches too. A dessert storm is rare. Miraculous. Cleansing. Lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled. And as the liquidity poured down, I considered the metaphor. For a brief moment
Hope all goes well. Sunny and seventy one day. Snowy sprinkles the next. Flowers are out. Tattoos too. Yeah, that’s early spring in NY. Of course, time moves quick here. Ain’t even summer, and they’re talking about autumn. Yeah, nearly everyone is antsy. Agitated. They say it’s too late to buy, but too early to sell. So fellas place little bets, on tomorrow’s unpredictable forecast. Trying to keep
Hope all goes well. Saw the Hunger Games. Read the book too. Weaves four all-time favorites – Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451 and Lord of the Flies — into a killer tale. Be honest, who doesn’t love the underdog? Abhor the machine? The flick really hit a chord. Just look at those box office records. Hey, you see? China made arrests. Shut sites. State Internet Information Office announce
Hope all goes well. Can you blame him? Me neither. I mean, any good trader thinks about it. Every. Single. Day. Particularly when you got a really bad portfolio (or a great one). So if Mitt wants to be CIO he’d better shake it up. Grab all 72,536 pages of our tax code. Remind America it was 400 pages 100yrs ago. Wipe that slate clean. Shake up our infinitely complex electoral district map. Our tan