August 31, 2007
Except, no one told my clients and adversaries. I have not had my quiet morning to draft an operating agreement with a nifty little life insurance buy out provision like I had hoped. Nope, I have been on the phone almost without pause: conference call with a court; settlement talks; negotiations on a job offer letter for a senior executive; discussions with a valuation expert out West (boy, was he up early); emails and document review and telephone calls to get out an "urgent" cease and desist letter. Good grief, people. Stop calling me. Go to the beach. Get an ice cream. This will all keep for a weekend.
Honoring Labor Day by actually performing labor is not at all what I had in mind.
I hope you all have a lovely (and if you are driving) and safe weekend!
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August 30, 2007
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First, read Richard Bookstaber's book: A Demon of Our Own Design: Markets, Hedge Funds, and the Perils of Financial Innovation. This is a very well written and accessable book dealing with how innovations in financial engineering -- more complex models leading to more complex financial products -- are leading the financial markets down the path of an eventual collapse brought about because they have become too complex to understand. He is particularly good in explaining the causes of some of the great, recent, financial collapses, like Long Term Capital in 1998. I know one or two of the LTCM guys and this helped explain their demise to me much better than they ever did.
Then, go forth and get Traders, Guns & Money: Knowns and unknowns in the dazzling world of derivatives, by S. Das. Das is a former derivatives trader and, on the buy side, consumer of derivatives. He gives very good explanations of how simple derivatives began in order to manage future risk in agricultural products and how they have mutated into Special Purpose Vehicles so that banks can take credit risk off of their books by repackaging the loans into various tranches and selling them into the SPV's who buy them by, often, exchanging government debt purchased on the open market and selling the tranches at various debt rating levels to investors who want or need to take on different kinds of risks for different levels of return. It is maybe a bit more quant orientated than I found helpful (no, even after trying, Mr. Das, I could not make the Black-Scholes model for valuing options make sense to me in terms of the math) but still a brilliant explanation. Taken together with Bookstaber's book, a very helpful read. I loved how Citron, the Orange County Treasurer, used astrological advice to decide which and how many inverse floaters to buy.
Finally, take a look at Taleb's book, Fooled by Randomness: The Hidden Role of Chance in Life and in the Markets. His views about how we know what we know and how we don't know what we don't know are fascinating reads. Basically, luck plays a much higher role in the success of your portfolio manager than does skill. I found it not an easy read because to fully appreciate it (and I am not sure I did) requires a real basic paradigm shift in the way you conceptualize knowledge and your own ability to judge risk and even the basic way in which you filter information in terms of decision making. A very thought provoking read.
So, there you have it, want to understand why the stock market tanked when the sub-prime and collateralized debt markets tanked? Read these books. I could tell you the answer, but it is way more fun to learn it by yourself.
And by the way, I spent about an hour and a half testing my knowledge on a friend who designs bespoke credit instruments for sale to investors in private tranasctions on the over the counter market. Several months ago, I had no real idea about what this person did for a living. Now, I had zero problems in having a detailed discussion about the issues.
You owe it to yourself to read these books, in the order I have listed them.
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Me: You realize that the Supreme Court has held that you can have no expectation of privacy with respect to your locker, don't you?GC: What does that me-- wait, that means that if I bring stuff in to school and put it in my locker, I can't expect that it will be private, right? People can look in it?
Me: Exactly. It is not like your night table at home where you can keep your private things.
GC: [Said with a smile] So, I shouldn't bring my night table to school.
Me: Right.
I was more than a bit surprised that she immediately grasped the concept.
I am pretty sure that she is going to be a lot smarter than I am.
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August 29, 2007
While we waited for the bus, I unclipped the hair brush she keeps on her back pack and I brushed her hair. Stroke after stroke, taking out the knots she missed, making her hair gleam in the morning sunlight, making her hair soft and pretty. I clipped the brush back on her pack as the bus came up the road, collected my kiss, and sent her on her way.
First grade. Where does the time go?
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August 24, 2007
Today, I was walking up Fifth Avenue for lunch at a very grand private club on 5th when I started to run into groups of firemen in their dress uniforms. I knew, immediately, that today must be a funeral day at St. Patrick's Cathedral for one of the men killed downtown. The firemen milled about, in groups, smoking cigarettes, looking somber, some of them holding their children. It was very hot and not a lot of air was moving. The crowds grew thicker the closer to St. Patrick's I got. And there it was in front of the Cathedral: a firetruck hung with purple and black bunting for use as a hearse to take the coffin away for burial.
I stopped walking and, buffeted by those trying to get around me, just stood there and stared, stood there and remembered all of the 9/11 funerals when, for days and day after day, a similar truck was parked in front of the Cathedral. Some days, I would see women dressed in black holding hands with small children. Other days, just the truck, standing sentinel, waiting to carry its sometimes empty, sometimes full, coffin. It was a horrible flashback moment.
I stood, heedless of the time, and listened to the funeral remarks as they were delivered by a friend of the deceased. He was moving and the remarks touching. He even joked about the deceased's ability to spot an attractive woman from the fire truck at a thousand yards, in thick fog, and at night. I chuckled and with that little bit of laughter, the spell was broken.
As the crowd inside clapped at the conclusion, I smiled and turned to walk on.
The death was similar, the circumstances similar, but the difference I cannot express.
Thank god for our brave firemen.
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August 16, 2007
I miss it still. Lots of changes, many not for the better.
But, I digress.
I learned I was aging as I mingled with the matriculating students and their parents. It was not that the new stutdents looked so young, although many of them did. It was not because I thought that it was somehow wrong to find so many of the incoming freshmen girls attractive, because they were. No, ultimately what made me feel old was that I found some of the mothers of the incoming students were more attractive. That is officially old -- when you'd rather chat with the mother than the daughter.
I am aging; albeit not gracefully.
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August 14, 2007
Remember that?
If not:
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August 13, 2007
We entertained my pilates class friends at the house. Our class has shrunk to three, including me, and I invited the other two and their significant others and the instructor and her significant other, out to the house for lunch yesterday. I determined that what I really wanted to prepare, other than grilled veggies and assorted cold salads, was chili-cheese burgers and so I did. I selected a Spanish white that was from close to the French border and was 30% Gewürztraminer, a grape that can stand up to spicy food. I bought six bottles and chilled them all.
Lunch was a great success and indeed did not break up until about 5:45, thus requiring me to cancel our dinner engagement. My wife wouldn't let me throw everyone out.
I put all the wine into the fridge and served the first three bottles of my wine, which went just as well as I had hoped it would. Then, for the fourth bottle, we opened a really grand unfiltered rose that one guest brought. He had tasted it and thought we would love it. Clearly, it needed to be open. We drank that one sitting in the garden while watching the children play as some smoked cigars (I passed this time).
I didn't open any guest wine during the meal and happily we had need of more wine after lunch. If not, I am not sure what I would have done.
What would you do?
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August 10, 2007
One of the issues I think is most interesting is that the models created by hedge funds or by structured financial products traders rarely actually accurately models a total melt down. The models, take Bear Stearns recent debacle, probably did include the possibility that the exotic securities they were trading could go totally south, but the humans doing the trades and making the investments in the funds would have discounted that possibility down to very little if not nothing.
That's what we humans do. We make plans but we cannot honestly confront a worst case scenario. That's why we call it a worst case. We give it that name and that assume that the probability of it taking place is not worth discussing. I think it is human nature. We don't actually assign a real probability factor to the problem posed by the worst case. I think that the only place humans do this is with regard to estate planning. We know we're going to die so we make plans for that worst case scenario. But not everyone does this, you know, and not everyone who does do it can successfully contemplate the worst case scenario posed by their own certain mortality and do it efficiently and correctly.
We don't like to think about bad endings. Or monsters, come to think of it. But I think that they both exist.
No, human beings plan for the middle and include slight deviations from the middle. Some really smart humans can plan for volatility but even that will remain within artificially set expectation bounds so that when the volatility surpasses those bounds, trouble can result.
Where am I going with this?
I'm not 100% sure. Maybe I am just going with the thought that I have to be a better planner. I have to take disaster planning more seriously, for instance. I, and many others, will discount the possibility of a catastrophic disaster down to zero and stop thinking about it even though we know that power failures, for instance, can last days.
We plan not with our intellects but with our emotions.
I think it is time to take the emotional out of the planning stage.
It is time to contemplate both the worst case downside scenario and the best case upside scenario for this family corporation I am an officer of and start to plan accordingly even if the business and financing climate has changed. This is different from lawyer think and legal analysis. It is going to be an interesting exercise.
Oh, and I really have to finalize our wills.
You should, too.
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August 08, 2007
The Viking Bride told me that the Camp Director told her that a ghost story was making the rounds at camp and it had scared the heck out of all of the kids. The Girl Child told us about it, too. It has to do with Bloody Mary (no, not the cocktail) who has had her head chopped off and is now coming to do the same thing to you if, in a dark room, you call her name three times. The VB did not improve the mood when she told the kids to try it and they did and when they got to the third repetition of the name, she yelled, "BOO!!!"
We realized later how seriously the Girl Child took this when her bed was empty when we went to check on her before going to bed ourselves. We found her sleeping with the Boy Child. They were sharing his pillow. She was sleeping on her side, face to the wall. The Boy Child was sleeping on his back with his right arm thrown back, over the Girl Child's shoulders, as if he was comforting her or shielding her. The Viking Bride and I both said, "awwwww", at the same time. It was terribly sweet. We left them there.
This morning, the VB told me that when she spoke to the GC about it, she said:
VB: Aren't you lucky to have a brother who loves you so much and who protects you?GC: When I am with him, I'm not scared. All he has to do is touch me and the scared goes away.
Again, awwww.
I am tempted to throw salt over my shoulder and spit at the ground in an attempt to avert the evil eye. I am clearly a lucky guy.
Where did these children come from?
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I am still wet.
My shoes sit stuffed with paper towels and my socks are lying next to them. I am wearing borrowed socks from the gym. I hung the clothes in the sauna and they are still wet.
I have not experienced a downpour like this since I left Louisiana. The sky opened up and the streets become rivers with water so high that the gutters overflowed on to the sidewalks, sweeping all debris off the walkways. I sloshed with each step.
My briefcase, and contents, are wet. My pants are still wet and my shirt is still wet.
I sit here not quite dripping but far from dry.
Another day in paradise. You betcha.
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August 07, 2007
She expressed great interest, it was reported to me by the Viking Bride, in acquiring her own horse. Uh huh. She had the following conversation with her riding instructor. I admire her ability to keep driving at an answer:
GC: If I wanted to buy a horse, how much do they cost?RI: You would have to save up your pennies.
GC: How many pennies?
RI: A lot.
GC: Well, how long would I have to save them for?
RI: A long time.
GC: Ok, how about this horse? How much would it cost to buy this horse?
RI: He's not for sale.
Like a good litigator taking a deposition, she just kept on going to try to get her answer. I am really quite proud.
The instructor told the Viking Bride, by the way, that the Girl Child is absolutely fearless. I gather that this is meant to be a good thing.
The Girl Child is already speaking with great anticipation about getting to canter so she can start jumping.
Interesting aside, I have noticed that when it comes to sporting activities, the Girl Child is not so much of a team player. She has shown a marked preference for the individual sports: swimming; riding; tennis; and martial arts. Not a team sport in that entire list. She's going to have us sign her up for the local YMCA swim team for the winter. She's keen to acquire another team swim suit. I don't know quite what lessons to draw from this observation but it is clear, as it always has been, that she is quite comfortable living inside her own head and playing by herself. I guess her sport interests are an outgrowth of this.
Either way, I find her to be a creature of endless interest and boundless fascination. I am so lucky to have a daughter.
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August 03, 2007
So we pulled the list up together and reviewed. I have been to 48 of them. It feels like a lot but I suspect many of you will have been to many more. Check the list out and let me know how you did?
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July 30, 2007
I imagine things are going to be unsettled around here for a bit.
This is, or was, a rather intimate relationship in a small firm. When someone leaves, it changes the dynamics substantially. In a big firm, you're really just another number. In a small firm, you are a person.
We are now one person less.
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You're right. I was so wrong. I just didn't look at it the way you did. You were so right. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry.
Every married man I know harbors this secret, deep fantasy. If they don't, they're not being honest with themselves. It isn't wrong, is it, to contemplate paying a woman for this kind of illicit rendevous? How could it be wrong if it felt so right, so good?
And by the way, my wife laughed very hard. But she never said I was right about this, either.
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July 27, 2007
I started the day with the Boy Child, though. He had his tennis lesson at camp that morning and I took both kids to camp so I could attend his lesson. It started very badly. He came up to the front, took the racquet in his right hand, turned his body, and flailed pathetically at the ball with the ugliest forehand I have ever seen on a child. It was horrible. I could not believe he had the guts to get up there and perform so badly, week after week. I couldn’t just sit there. So, I called out the pro and interrupted the lesson: “Hey! Jaime! Did you know that the Boy Child is a LEFTY?” Oh, he replied. The Boy Child was then duly turned to his other side, the racquet was switched to his left hand, and he began banging the ball around. It was a marked improvement almost immediately. I was very gratified. I believe that the pro and the Boy Child were also gratified. The lesson lasted an hour. In the sun. I had carefully applied sunscreen to the kids but not, of course, to myself. Tant pis.
I then walked over to meet the Girl Child to accompany her to her horseback riding lesson. You should have seen this gorgeous little thing – long, lean, bronzed, in her riding hat, boots, and chaps, striding along like she owned the world. Reminded me of the description my grandfather used to give of me, actually. So, as it turned out, this was a perfect day to attend her riding lesson. This was the first time the riding instructor took her off lead and let her walk and trot around the ring all by herself. It was a big day, according to the instructor. The instructor assured me that the Girl Child was doing very well. She looked so great on her pony, her back straight and her manner very confident. She was also quite pleased to be allowed to ride the pony back to the barn from the ring. I was quite happy to witness that. Then I went home, to meet my sister and nephew to take them to lunch.
Fortunately, they were late. That gave me time to review a major settlement agreement and make comments to my client. That was a huge boost and made me thank whoever made my Blackberry possible.
After lunch, I collected the Girl Child, still damp from the pool but proudly sporting her swim team bathing suit. We drove over to the other Club through the back roads. Can I just say, whoa, there are a lot of old and beautiful houses in Fairfield County.
As I said above, I believed that it was a short meet for us. SheÂ’d be in the first heat and then weÂ’d take off. I declined, therefore, the request to act as a timer. I mean, I didnÂ’t think weÂ’d be there that long.
Then the swim coach came up to the Girl Child, bent down to look her in the eye, and asked her if instead of swimming with the minnows, if she felt up to swimming a leg of the backstroke relay with the bigger kids. No hesitation at all. She simply looked up and said, “yes”. She started the race, the first one after the minnows did their thing. She got in the pool and hoisted herself up on the handles. I leaned over and told her to bend her legs so she could explode out and back and she did that, looking up at me for a moment, squinting in the glare of the sun, and we waited for the announcer to blow her whistle. I stood there and looked down at her and I thought I was going to cry, I was so proud of her. Her first big kid swim meet! I was so happy I could be there. When the whistle went, she threw herself backwards and backstroked with all of her might, until she got hung up for a moment on the lane divider. I walked the whole length of the pool, yelling “GO!” and otherwise cheering for her. If she had not gotten hung up on the divider, she had a shot at beating one of the older kids because she actually caught up and almost passed one of them.
We walked back to the start where her coach congratulated her on her efforts and asked her if she felt like she was up to swimming a freestyle event, too. Again, no hesitation, just an immediate yes. She relaxed for a moment or two, sitting on the grass and throwing it at some of her friends, who threw it back at her. Then her race was called. The freestyle girls, 8 and under. She climbed up onto the racing start platform like she had been doing it all her life and got into a racing start position. The whistle blew and she kind of launched herself forward and sort of fell forward into the pool. She swam her little heart out. A much better effort than anything the Viking Bride had described having witnessed at earlier meets. She came last, again, but only barely, I think. Again, I walked the length of the pool, cheering my head off for her. I may have been the only parent to do that, come to think of it.
Again, we walk back together and again her coach approaches her and asks her if she is up for swimming one more event, the 8 and under freestyle relay. Again, no hesitation in answering yes. Again, she swam her little heart out and again she finished last. But there was no hesitation in effort on her part. She left everything in the pool.
She swam three events, under pressure of real competition, when she normally only swims one event with no pressure. I asked her if she was scared when she was waiting for whistle to blow and she said, no. Nervous? No. Nothing.
We stayed for the team cheer but she passed on the popsicle in favor of taking off and eating the goldfish she had reserved from her lunch box. As we got to the car, and she climbed in, she looked at me and said, “Boy, I sure am going to sleep good tonight.”
While we were off swimming, the Boy Child was at music class to try out an instrument to see what he might like to start taking lessons on. He had been partial to the flute, before, but today was the cello. The teacher was impressed that he knew all the parts of the cello and liked the Boy Child’s fancy bow – one arm behind his back and one arm in front of his stomach. The teacher told him that the cello bow was different, just arms to the side. He showed me later – just leaned over, looked down, and said, “hello, toes!”. On the ride back, the Viking Bride asked him if he wanted to go back to see a group lesson on the flute and he declined, saying, “no, I’ve seen enough”. He picked the cello, explaining that with the flute you have to keep blowing into the instrument and he didn’t think he could hold enough air in him to do that. Also, he liked the sound of the cello.
Well, I thought that all of these accomplishments today merited a celebration dinner out and I let the kids pick. Pizza it was. As we sat over dinner, we had the following exchange:
Girl Child: See, thereÂ’s this problem. . .Me: If you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.
Viking Bride: If you are part of the problem, get out of the way.
[small silence and then the Boy Child pops up, earnestly]
Boy Child: Pappa? I am part of the solution!
If I could have picked a day to take off from the office, this would easily have been the day I wanted to have. It was perfection.
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July 25, 2007
One nice thing was the wear pattern on the old strings. The old strings had started to unravel and fray. Where? All in the sweet spot, baby, and no where else. Meaning? I was striking most every ball right in the middle of the racquet (or else I was dinging the other shots off the frame). Nice.
Like I said, pathetic. I am going to be 40 this year and here I am gushing like a kid over a new car.
Still, I am so looking forward to banging a ball around tonight for a couple of hours.
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July 24, 2007
The rules:
1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote...
Here are five thoughtful blogs (in no particular order) that may not have been tagged yet, and deserve to be:
1. The Llama Butchers: A great read on a daily basis ranging from bad movies to good literature and the ocassional and always well received Naval Geekery post.
2. La Antigua Guatemala Daily Photo Blog: Like it sounds. Daily pictures from one of favorite places in the whole world.
3. Everyday Stranger: If Helen doesn't make you think, or at least feel, give up right now.
4. Simon World: Simon is wicked smart, writes well, and writes about Asia. It is usually important. More so than my blog, that is for certain.
5. Critical Mass: Erin writes beautifully and fluently and fights the good fight for academic freedom. You should know about her if you don't.
Happy reading! And thank you, again, Mark!
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I highly recommend the experience. The food was great, too.
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