weekend notes

Hope all goes well… “You need to go to the bank,” ordered Ida, in her trademark General Patton. “Take out $3,600 of cash to cover your apartments and guides in Rome and Florence,” she continued, in a tone that warned: don’t you dare screw this up, land in Europe without enough ammo, and radio for a rescue. “Ida, that’s ridiculous, surely they take credit cards, it’s Italy not Ethiopia.” But appare

Hope all goes well… “I meant to do that,” said Osama bin Charlie, blushing, picking himself up off the ground. His bike lay there, tire spinning. Knee red, skinned. Determined not to cry, he lifted it, proud. In a flash, I recalled a day a 40yrs ago, a bike wreck, and the pride of picking myself up. First of my many falls. “Of course you meant to, little man.” And on we rode, the two of us. Overal

Hope all goes well… “We failed at the highs and volatility barely budged,” said Yoda, high in the Rockies. “There were no outside forces pushing prices, just US earnings,” continued the largest S&P 500 local, winding his way upward, through fields of granite boulders, each the product of an ancient little crack. “The market fell even with Google and Amazon surging to historic highs.” And Yoda

“Remember how California got it, but New York didn’t?” asked my favorite futurist, hands-free on Highway 1. “That in itself was reason to invest.” 500% ago, when people viewed autonomous autos as outlandish, he piled into Tesla. “People now accept Elon’s vision as almost inevitable.” But the future will not simply be dominated by solar-powered, self-driving Teslas, ordered on iPhones, navigated by

Hope all goes well… “When I run massive positions, at best I feel apprehensive, but I usually feel like crap,” he admitted, lightening up enormous European longs. “I don’t know what I would’ve done on Sunday if markets had been open.” Last weekend was the most politically volatile in recent memory. “Having them closed probably saved me from myself,” he admitted, knowing stocks would’ve tanked on t

Hope all goes well… “When a market breaks more than 20%, it’s brutal,” whispered the CIO, ear to the ground, listening for sounds of opportunity. Greeks groaned, Germans grunted. “Investors mentally budget for a 10% loss, some even budget for 20%, but no one prepares for 33%.” Brazilians bawled, South Africans squealed. “So when a market falls through 20%, it usually gets a lot uglier.” Amidst Tur

Hope all goes well… “If the government’s intention is clear,” said the CIO, late at night from Hong Kong, “people will always run ahead of it.” Only the rare soul stands defiant before a determined tank. “Beijing wanted a gradual rise in stocks, but received a year’s gain every two weeks.” Policy-makers and regulators found themselves ill-equipped to deal with the proliferation of leverage across

Hope all goes well… “Completely unexpected,” he said, from Europe Saturday night. “They were so close, their differences were meaningless.” Political analysts scurried around the CIO, searching for motives, meanings, machinations. “Did Tsipras ever really want a deal? Did Merkel? Is the die now cast? How will the ECB act Sunday, Monday? When will they drop the hammer on Greek banks? Will they acti

Hope all goes well… “Landing an airplane is a complicated task, but you do the same things every time,” said Eagle, swooping down from Gotham’s highest perch, to visit my new nest. “But surfing, now that is truly complex; you’re riding a wave,” he explained, narrowing focus. “The Fed thinks they’re landing, when actually they’re surfing.” We looked out across Long Island Sound, clouds reflecting o