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Hope all goes well… Santa slipped down the chimney. Left big boot prints in the ash, that spilled across our hearth. And the jolly fella stuffed stockings. Built a train set too.  Sprinkled magic everywhere. Moments before the kiddies emerged, sporting their finest bedhead, Santa lit candles. Warming our chilly pre-dawn living room. And hours later, as Mara and I basked in the Christmas morning afterglow, Osama bin C

Hope all goes well… “Instead of sitting around and whining that we have so much money that we can’t possibly outperform,” he said, perched on the pinnacle of the pyramid. “We look at the world and ask ourselves, with so much money, what are the things that we can do that play to our unique strengths,” he continued, thoughtfully, over breakfast. “And will allow us to outperform because we have so much money.” Overall:

Hope all goes well… “Can I tell you a secret?” asked the legendary trader, after three too many. So I reminded him I’m no priest. And while my memory blurs under the influence, when it comes to quality quotes, I got better recollection than Rain Man. He nodded, shrouded in the secrecy of my policy of anonymity. “You wanna know the key to this whole game?” he continued, lowering his voice, leaning in closer. “This gam

Hope all goes well… “You become a junkie, you want action,” said the mkt’s top equity options trader, describing what makes men’s blood race. Equity markets keep finding casual users, nervously buying street-corner dimes, quarters. But they’re not yet robbing old ladies, rolling liquor stores, buying bricks. Yeah, there’s no sign it’s near its end. “But I’ll know it when I see it,” he continued, “Cause the S&P do

Hope all goes well… Lots to be thankful for this year. A feast filled with young families, old friends. A buzzing business, a tenacious team. A world of opportunities, endless mysteries. And while I desperately wish I had more time, I’m thankful that there never seems to be enough. Hope you feel the same. Dusted off an anecdote from Summer 2012 (see below). See you next Sunday with full weekend notes. Week-in-Review:

Hope all goes well… “Show me something hairy, disgusting, distressed,” he said to Singapore’s top real estate deal-maker. And I laughed, having always wondered how my buddy conducted meetings. He runs one of America’s greatest family offices. And we travelled across Asia for 2wks, searching for investment themes, cheap assets, insights, talent. “Nothing’s underpriced,” answered the deal-maker. So I asked if it felt l

Hope all goes well… Spent the week in Singapore. Hong Kong. Tokyo too. And as China’s communist plenum, petrified by distorted demographics, loosened their lonely-only policy, Mara flew out for an impromptu Asian rendezvous. Escaping the consequences of our free-market four-child policy. So we’re heading out now to have a gander at Ginza. Explore a nation in reflation. I’ll see you next Sunday with full wknd no

Hope all goes well… “My father was tough but fair,” said the lovely young woman, in a tender tone, turning back and smiling. Hiking high above Santa Barbara. He marched just behind us – her proud father – one of Scandinavia’s top investors. He’d brought her along, combining adventure with business. As conversation wandered from family, to sports, life’s winding paths, innovation, investment themes, and hi

Hope all goes well… Osama bin Charlie, my 4yr old, wired on Wonka, dressed as a zombie ninja, sporting oversized UGG boots, tripped and screamed. Mummies moaned. Fairies floated. You see, Mara had fired a distress flare. So, dressed as a hedge fund putz, I rushed home early to help with Halloween. And sought solace in an ice-cold Sol. A buddy arrived, dressed as an overworked internet entrepreneur, sharing my stunned

Hope all goes well… “When will grandpa die daddy?” asked Charlie, my four year old, prying an oversized spoonful of cocoa puffs into his little mouth. So I told him I don’t know. “Well, when will grandma die?” he continued, munching away. Of course I don’t know that either. “How about you,” he asked, “when will you die?” I peered into my bowl, at the remaining cocoa puffs, swirling. And reluctantly came clean, admitt