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Who Regulates the Regulators?

Friday, March 28th, 2008

WHO REGULATES THE REGULATORS? 

America is Litigation Nation  

One of the most insulting movies ever made was Oliver Stone’s “Wall Street.” In this movie, a young stockbroker played by Charlie Sheen cuts corners to achieve success. He becomes crooked. He is rightfully punished, and near the end of the movie lets his father know that he is about to begin a jail sentence. So far so good. Yet the father, played by the ever pious Martin Sheen, says something to his son that every financial professional should find deeply offensive. Rather than criticize the specific behavior of his son, he instead remarks that when his son gets out of jail, he should, “get a real job instead of living off of the buying and selling of others.”

Yes, in one fell swoop, an entire profession gets indicted, at least verbally.

In this warped view of the world, financial professionals are all thieves, crooks, and liars, while those that regulate them are pure white knights in shining armor. Yet the regulators are often more dangerous than the financial professionals. The financial professionals have to answer to the regulators.

Who regulates the regulators?

Financial firms are under attack from three different sources of regulation. The first source consists of fly by night operations in the form of “lawsuit firms” that operate outside the legal system. The second source consists of self regulatory agencies and government agencies. The third source consists of self aggrandizing politicians. All three of these entities have abused their public trust.

There was a time when the financial services industry needed to be cleaned up. Regulators came in, did their jobs effectively, and helped put crooked firms out of business. Yet at some point regulators became a victim of their own success. The firms that survived realized that they had to play by the rules to stay in business. So playing by the rules is exactly what most of them did. They hired Compliance Departments. They taught ethics. They helped combat money laundering. They fired their own bad apples to protect their reputations.

Most people would see this as positive. To regulators, this is a disaster. Regulators exist to get rid of the bad seeds. When too many of those bad seeds are removed, regulators then lack things to actually do. They become less necessary. Therefore, rather than fire themselves, they need to create problems that they can then solve.

Problems such as insider trading, churning, and unauthorized trading are simply less common among firms because they know that those infractions are potential death knells. Yet ask any Wall Street firm that is being harassed because one customer order might have three timestamps instead of four, or that a form is filled out with a fine point blue pen instead of a medium point black pen, and they will concede that the regulatory system is out of control.

The first group of unchecked regulators that are causing problems are firms specifically set up to sue financial services firms. A firm that my company regularly does business with has come under attack from the stockbrokerage equivalent of ambulance chasers.

I personally spoke to one of the employees of this “stockbrokerage recovery” firm. I asked him if he was an actual attorney. He said that did not matter. I asked him if he had a Series 7 stockbroker’s license. He said that was also immaterial, and became irritated with such probing questions. He made it clear that he wants to settle every single case. He has no desire to ever go to trial. He knows that big companies roll over (he used stronger language), and he freely admits targeting companies that have a history of paying.

This fellow criticizes organizations that engage in “cold-calling” to find clients. Yet the business model of this stockbrokerage recovery firm is cold-calling people. They buy leads, call people up, and actively try to solicit them into suing their stockbroker. The firm takes the case on contingency, and one client confessed to me that the firm receives 50% of any judgment. This is significantly higher than what most attorneys receive.

In speaking to this same employee, I pointed out that the statute of limitations on his case had already passed. I also pointed out that the firm he was suing had virtually nothing to do with the client, and that he was suing the wrong firm. I additionally pointed out that the client never purchased stocks in the account in question. He purchased options on commodities, which is a completely different financial product outside the jurisdiction of FINRA (formerly NASD). Therefore, he was trying to sue in the wrong court.

The employee seemed uninterested and uneducated as to how commodities worked, and made it clear that going after the stockbrokerage firm with deeper pockets in the hope of a settlement made more sense than going after the commodity brokerage firm that held the actual account. When I pointed out these facts to the client, their response was, “I am not paying any money for this service, so I don’t care.”

Lastly, this supposedly successful firm is located slightly away from Wall Street, in a place known as Coney Island. Now Coney Island is great if one wants to ride the Cyclone, walk on the Boardwalk, or eat a hot dog from the original Nathans. It is not a business district. The “office” of this stockbrokerage recovery firm was the equivalent of a shack. It had a paper sign on the door, which was partially obscured by the much larger sign of another company that apparently sells kitchenware.

Yet what is most troublesome about this firm is that they do not appear to answer to any professional organization. Attorneys and stockbrokers answer to the ABA and FINRA, respectively. Yet various stockbrokerage recovery firms such as this seem to have unchecked power.

The best way for firms to handle these firms is to refuse to negotiate with them. Once the person representing the firm filing the claim declines to state that they are an attorney, all conversation by the stockbrokerage firm being sued should cease.

If unlicensed stockbrokerage recovery firms are ants, then regulatory organizations are elephants. I have dealt with many regulatory agencies over the years, and they have truly become victims of their own success. Several examples of claims or suggestions that regulators have made are below.  

1)      My firm was told to have procedures in place for selling a specific type of financial product. Our firm explained that we do not transact in the type of financial product in question. We were told that this was still a “deficiency,” and that we had to have procedures in place so that we can regulate a financial product that we had never sold, and most likely would never sell. Imagine the reaction from the medical community if heart surgeons were told to have plastered on their office walls the solutions to all medical issues concerning podiatrists.

2)      My firm was told that they overheard a broker discuss a goal of doubling the client’s money. The regulator then explained that they specifically heard the phrase “50%.” We explained that doubling is 100%, not 50%. As sheepish as the regulator was at this point, they included the error in their final report.

3)      One branch office of my firm was told that we were in violation because we did not have a manager or supervisor on site. Employees must be monitored. We explained that the manager was in the bathroom. The regulators acknowledged this, and yet included it in their report as another deficiency.

4)      One regulator asked loaded questions of our employees in an attempt to deliberately trick them into incriminating themselves and the firm. English was not the first language of the employee, and they were quite scared at being taken into a conference room with no windows. The broker was asked if they had ever been “disciplined,” meaning had they ever been found guilty of a regulatory violation. The broker answered in the affirmative. The regulators then tried to go onto the next question, but I intervened in the conversation. I explained to the broker that only compliance and regulatory issues mattered, not human resources sanctions. The broker then explained that they had been disciplined by the firm for tardiness, which is not a regulatory or compliance violation of any kind.

5)      One client wrote a check to our firm that bounced. This caused the broker’s commissions to be taken away. The stereotype of wealthy stockbrokers with golf clubs and putting greens in their office taking advantage of poor elderly people on Social Security is not always the true picture. Often it is multimillion dollar clients on their own private golf courses trying to cheat rookie stockbrokers who are trying to survive on less than $24,000 per year. The particular wealthy aforementioned client kept promising to pay, and kept reneging. My firm sued in small claims court, and won a judgment. Only after this fact did the client then retaliate by going to regulators and claiming malfeasance by the firm. The regulators were aware of the facts in front of them, yet the case was allowed to proceed. Facts did not matter.

6)      Some clients in the financial services industry have been actively solicited by regulators to file complaints. On more than one occasion, a client has informed me that they only filed a complaint because a regulator called them, and told them that they should. As an inducement, the client was given information regarding the company that was false. A thirty second trip to the internet would have verified this. As for why regulators do this, complaints require both sides to pay filing fees. These fees go in the pockets of the regulatory agencies. The regulatory agencies have a direct financial incentive to have more complaints. Lastly, the client was given information by the regulators regarding other clients, which is at best irregular, and possibly illegal. Firms know never to discuss a client account with another client without written permission. Regulators especially should respect this privacy issue.

I could write hundreds of pages alone on the examples listed above. When my firm needs help from the regulators, such as reviewing a one page document to make sure that it is in compliance, this can take several weeks. When the regulators have a document request from us, they demand an answer in 72 hours. This can be crippling to a financial institution from a productivity standpoint.

People who work on Wall Street should be trembling in fear at this. It is the equivalent of a slow bleed strategy, death by a thousand cuts. Some would say that FINRA (not the agency I am referring to, I am using them as an example) is regulated by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), but this oversight is minimal. The SEC does answer to Congress, but firms will not bring a claim before Congress out of fear. Regulators are the good guys, corporations are the evil bad guys, and if the claim against the regulatory agency is unsuccessful, then the regulators will come back even more determined. This is analogous to trying to “kill the king.” If you only wound the king, he will come back after you with his entire regulatory army.

  

Yet if regulatory agencies are elephants, then crusading politicians are the equivalent of Godzilla. One example of this would be the former Governor of New York, Eliot Spitzer.

Mr. Spitzer wreaked havoc on Wall Street when he was the Attorney General of New York. He rode in on his stallion and built his career around the evil enemy of Wall Street. Yes, there was some corruption. Yes, Wall Street like any other organization had bad apples, as previously mentioned. However, those regulating and enforcing laws must stay within the confines of those very laws themselves.

Mr. Spitzer was alleged to have threatened Wall Street executives over the telephone. Either they “played ball,” or he would sue them. Finally, one CEO of a large insurance company had had enough of Mr. Spitzer’s bullying. He went public to the newspapers regarding Mr. Spitzer’s heavy handed tactics. His company stayed intact.

Yet how many companies roll over because they are scared to death of a Governor who is using his crucifixion of them to become President of the United States? The fact that Mr. Spitzer was brought down by a financial scandal (it was not about sex, it was about possible money laundering) does not change the fact that for too long he was unregulated, unchecked, and unrestrained. On a Federal level, the United States Government harassed IBM and Microsoft, and both companies caved. Only when Intel fought back hard did Attorney General Janet Reno back down. 

Wall Street must start fighting back. The regulatory climate in the financial services industry has gotten out of control. I am not arguing that we stop regulating the industry. Regulation is necessary. I am advocating that more oversight be given to those providing the initial oversight.

The regulators must be more regulated themselves.

After all, financial services firms actually produce goods and provide services. They are the economic engine that drives America.

Stockbrokerage recovery firms, regulatory agencies, and Government officials do not produce anything. They exist solely because corporate America exists. They play an important role in society, but without corporations, there are no regulators. Destroying corporate America would destroy America itself. Productive people understand this. In tough economic times, corporations have to lay off employees. It is unfortunate, but a necessary evil of the business cycle. Regulators should be required to do the same. They should not be allowed to have bloated budgets pursuing frivolous and open ended investigations about non-matters just to stay employed.

In short, to paraphrase Oliver Stone, many of these regulatory employees need to get real jobs in the private sector learning how business benefits society, instead of living off of the buying and selling of others.

Guilty firms can and should be punished. No innocent person should ever be put in prison, and no falsely accused corporation should ever be put out of business. Firms that are innocent of accusations trumped up against them should fight back tooth and nail.

Otherwise, firms can roll over and continue to end up black and blue because they filled out a form in blue when it should have been filled out in black.     

eric 

The Dream Team

Wednesday, March 26th, 2008

Before analyzing the demagoguic race for President, I would like to issue an apology to my fellow Americans.

Regarding my one experience in Detroit, I misspoke when I mentioned that I had to duck and cover when entering the war zone. As for the fact that I faced enemy fire en route to Wisconsin, and that the experience was “seared into my memory,” like John Kerry’s trip to Cambodia, I got some of the facts wrong.

As for the fact that I was in danger the entire time, I can only say that I am human, and once I hire press people, they will spend the bulk of their time apologizing for me and explaining my many mistakes.

The truth is that I was scared for my life in Detroit, but at no time did I leave the airport. Detroit is one of the hubs for Northworst Airlines, and the airport is monstrously large. My running at top speed was not to avoid enemy fire, but to avoid missing my flight because Northwest was too cavalier when scheduling the connecting flights. The hub and spoke system is an affront to civilized people everywhere.

I did not exactly get burned alive by an Arab terrorist on my trip. I burnt my tongue eating a hot dog at one of the airport food stations. While I maintain that the person selling me the food had a Middle Eastern complexion, he seemed less interested in the Arab-Israeli conflict or Jihad than in helping me find the mustard (it was near the straws). It was not poison mustard gas, just good old fashioned dijon mustard. As for the cold weather, near death, sub zero freezing conditions inside the airport, I can only say that the air that they circulate on airplanes is bad, and Northworst needs to provide pillows and blankets.

As for mentioning that the Detroit Lions are terrible, I have never seen them play live, but I do have 50 years of statistics to back up that claim. I am sticking to my guns on that one.

So before I regale everybody one day with my tales of visiting Bosnia, just remember that nobody is perfect. If I ever say anything that turns out to be a mistake, just blame Hillary Clinton. I learned from her.

http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/dan_kennedy/2008/03/clinton_under_fire.html

Now that my soul is cleansed, I want to address the notion that the democrats want the “Dream Team” to be elected.

While the democrats would consider their dream team to be Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, perhaps the democrats need a better dream team if they are going to take on John McCain.

So who is the real Dream Team? Who can inspire the American people?

Well one Dream Team that got the job done was the 1992 Men’s Olympic basketball team. They did win the gold medal. In the spirit of balancing ebony and ivory in ways that would make Obama and Hillary proud, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson put their differences aside for America. Larry was a Boston Celtic. Magic was a Los Angeles Laker. They had this nation torn apart among East and West Coast lines, but when they finally came together, the United States team was truly United.

For those who believe in healing America, forget Obama. Nobody heals like a doctor, and this Dream Team had Dr. Julius Erving, also known as Dr. J. The man not only inspired me and other young children with his anti-drug rap song, “one dumb move (can blow your groove),” but he also had an amazing reverse tomahawk jam dunk.

One problem with this Dream Team for the democrats is that the Most Valuable Player of the team was Charles Barkley. Yes, Sir Charles is black, but minority voters in the democratic party would be disappointed when they find out he is a staunch republican.

The team did have Michael Jordan, but he has made it clear that the only democrat he will endorse is Bill Bradley. Basketball bonds among champions are tough to break.

The Portland Trailblazers actually had a slogan for their team one year that read, “One team, one dream.” That team was an underachieving nightmare, so they will not be considered.

Since most athletes are republicans, perhaps a different dream team is in order. Who could appeal to the many black voters that have flocked to Obama? The answer would be the legal Dream Team that defended O.J. Simpson.

Johnny Cochran, Robert Shapiro, and F. Lee Bailey have to be given some consideration.

Johnny Cochran is dead, and we romanticize dead people as infallible. It is called JFK syndrome. Also, Johnny Cochran had better rhymes and slogans than Jesse Jackson. Had he been the defense attorney for Bill Clinton, he would have insisted that the dress did not fit, so we must acquit.

F. Lee Bailey might be problematic because democrats do not like people with first initials. They have been harsh in the past regarding G. Gordon Liddy, I. Lewis Libby, and J. Danforth Quayle. Rumor has it they are also violently against E Pluribus Unum.

Also, if the split between Hillary and Obama voters is wide now, the gap would only increase with the promotion of anyone defending O.J. Simpson. Apparently there is very little overlap between those who are against domestic violence, and those who play football, which is a form of domestic violence (except for the few preseason games played overseas).

Robert Shapiro is the Hillary character. He was the lead attorney, and then out of nowhere a charismatic man with a higher melanin content and better vocabulary stole his thunder.

Yet while women voters might be upset, O.J. is that rare man that can unite black and white men. After all, he did play football, and was quite good.

Sadly enough, as previously stated, democrats are just not known for sports. This means that there is only one group of individuals that would be worthy of their votes.

I have said that many liberals are nuts. Therefore, the Dream Team should be the escaped mental patients from the movie containing Michael Keaton and Christopher Lloyd. The scene where the four mental patients jump in the air to high five each other…and miss…is a classic.

Democrats desperately need the religious vote, and Christopher Lloyd did play Reverend Jim on Taxi. Also, his character did plenty of drugs, which will unite the hippie vote. Mr. Lloyd also starred in the movie trilogy “Back to the Future,” which according to Al Gore, was inspired by Bill Clinton’s bridge to the 21st century, even though the movie came out over a decade earlier. Hillary’s comments on the matter were redacted.

Also, Michael J. Fox was in those movies, and he has Parkinson’s disease. Voting for Christopher Lloyd is a vote for stem cell research. The only scandal is that Michael J. Fox used to go by the alias of Alex P. Keaton, who was also a staunch republican and supporter of Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan.

Michael Keaton would do well with the youth vote. While his temper in the movie was more volatile than Howard Dean, he inspired the youth everywhere when he breathed in the night air and announced, “It’s great to be young and insane.”

Also, with health care being such an important issue, this movie had an actual doctor. It was not Dr. J, but some actor I cannot recall who played the capable and competent Dr. Weitzman. Although one of the patients had a messianic complex that involved him stripping naked in churches, the democratic party would most likely be less scared of his sermons than those of the current pastors in the news.

Therefore, the Dream Team for the democrats should be Michael Keaton and Christopher Lloyd. Keaton will the hotheaded President, with Lloyd as the quiet Vice President.

As for those who wonder how I am able to come up with such brilliant political analysis, all I can say is this…

I am glad to be old enough to vote for McCain…

Yet it’s great to be young and insane.

eric

 

Leave my FBI file alone!

Saturday, March 22nd, 2008

The State Department had better leave my FBI file alone.

People who try to dig up dirt on me are going to incur my wrath. For those wondering why I am concerned about those wishing to derail my future political career, I shall start out with a syllogism I learned in school.

Premise: All cats chase mice.

Premise: Tony has a cat.

Conclusion: Tony is a mouse.

Hey, I went to public school.

Fast forward from my painful experiences in those maximum security prisons known as public schools to the world today.

Premise: On January 9th, 2008, members of the State Department investigated Barack Obama’s FBI file.

Premise: January 9th in my birthday.

Conclusion: Barack Obama ordered people to look at my file.

I would blame Hillary Clinton, given the expertise that she and her husband have with FBI files, and illegal behavior in general. Yet in this case I cannot do so. I have come to the conclusion that Hillary and I are practically the same. After all, we are just “typical white people.”

I wonder if I can get a discount at Walmart for macaroni and cheese.

There are other reasons that I am convinced that Obama tried to investigate my files.

How often does a Jewish holiday (Purim), a Catholic holiday (St. Patricks Day) and a Christian holiday (Good Friday, Easter) occur during the same week (quite often actually)?

Barack Obama has had controversies lately involving more than one religion. It all ties together.

Also, there are 7 days in the week. There are 7 letters in the word Judaism. There are 7 letters in the word slavery. This proves, according to Louis Farrakhan, that Jews have enslaved blacks since the beginning of time, all the time. Pastor Jeremiah Wright has praised Farrakhan, and Obama has in the past praised Wright.

There are also 7 letters in the word Federal, which is the first word in the FBI.

There are also 7 letters in the word “Tygrrrr” as well as the word “Express.” Aha!

This sinister conspiracy against me must stop.

Now for those who are wondering why I am trivializing a serious matter, there are two reasons. First of all, because that is what I do.

Second of all, the reaction has been idiotic. For those who think this is another Bush Administration conspiracy by the State Department, please remove your heads from your hides.

The State Department hates President Bush. Everybody below Condi Rice should be sent to Guantanamo Bay. The State Department is basically enemy combatants, except less effective and more bureaucratic. If the State Department was any more worthless, it would be the United Nations.

So an organization whose sole purpose of existence is to undermine President Bush would investigate files of people he could care less about at his orders.

To quote George Jetson, “Jane, get me off of this crazy thing.”

Is this breach serious? Yes. The people responsible for the breach were fired, and full disclosure was made. The system worked. If ever there was a non-scandal, this would be it. The real scandal is how such clowns got hired in the first place. Then again, that brings us back to the point about the State Department being worthless.

I can share with you what was in the files of all three candidates.

Obama: He is 50% black and 50% white. After careful analysis, it was determined that he came to be this way because his parents were of different races. He did drugs as a youth, has funny looking ears, speaks well, and has never offended anybody in his existence. He thinks all white people are the same, but then again, we are.

McCain: He was a prisoner of war, is old, occasionally grumpy, believes in suppressing free speech when hanging out with Russell Feingold, and promises to take Osama and steer rope him rodeo style with his own beard.

Hillary: (redacted)

Wow, I wish I could get my file to be as clean as Hillary’s. I should ask Sandy Berger for help. My favorite foods are sandwiches and burgers. These coincidences are frightening.

I am entitled to my private life.

It is nobody else’s business that I would paddle Hillary’s hide given the chance. Besides, how do I know she never tried to paddle mine, or that of any of my friends? Her file is redacted, corrupt woman that she is.

The fact that I believe we could cure two world problems by feeding the homeless to the hungry should not be used against me in a future debate when I am wagging my finger and talking about compassion.

Christian America does not need to know that I think Santa Claus is an anti-semite. You have that fat red b@st@rd skip your home for years on end and think the system is not rigged. I suspect Jeremiah Wright and Louis Farrakhan don’t care that Santa hates Jewish kids.

I would cook Rudolph and eat him, but the last thing I need is more grief from animal rights activists.

The fact that I have a “Larry the Cable Guy” pinup calendar is nobody else’s d@mn business.

Maybe if I just ignore the problem, it will go away. Yeah right. That did not work with Al Gore, Al Sharpton, Al Queda, or Al Green (I have no idea why I included him. I liked his duet with Annie Lennox).

So yes, Barack Obama was behind the viewing of my FBI files. He would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for those d@mn kids. I hope it did not hurt when they pulled the rubber mask off of him.

Ok, off to go in my backyard and dig up Jimmy Hoffa and move him again. Actually, I do not have a backyard. Yet if I did, and he was buried there, I would move him if I thought he would be in danger of being discovered.

Enough with the scandal surrounding Obama. He did not even march with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Some would say he was only a boy, but I am tired of excuses. Next thing you know he will try to blame somebody else for the death of Strom Thurmond.

Premise: Strom Thurmond is related to Al Sharpton.

Premise: Barack Obama and Al Sharpton have a bond with skin color.

Conclusion: Barack Obama’s daughter is the reincarnation of Strom Thurmond.

Yes, if I were him I would want his file sealed as well.

As for my file, both I and the world would be better if mine stayed wrapped up tighter than an ex girlfriend who claimed she had a headache, when she was really just sick of me.

eric

A Violent Bear (Stearns) Market

Tuesday, March 18th, 2008

While I do not believe the sky is falling, and have lived through people panicking hysterically before, I have to confess that I was taken aback by the violence and ferocity and speed with which Bear Stearns was brought down.

This was not some fly by night company, or some internet stock with no revenue. This was Bear Stearns, an established, white shoe, blue chip Wall Street firm. This stockbrokerage and investment banking powerhouse has collapsed.

http://money.cnn.com/2008/03/17/markets/markets_morning/index.htm?cnn=yes

One year ago the stock was at $160 per share. On February 27th, 2008, it closed at $87.30. This past Thursday, March 12th, it closed at $57. It then dropped 47% on Friday to close at $30. On Monday it dropped another 84%, and J.P. Morgan offered to buy it at $2 per share.

Normally when one company acquires another, the acquirer loses value and the company being acquired gains value. This is because the acquirer normally pays a premium. As my old corporate strategy professor once said, “Acquisitions destroy value, but every CEO believes they are the exception.” This situation is the reverse because it is an emergency bailout, not a hostile takeover.

For the sake of disclosure, I do not own stock in Bear Stearns (thank God). I do own stock in J.P. Morgan, but despite my being a part owner of the company, I am not on the Board of Directors, and the CEO has never solicited or accepted my opinion on any issues.

For the sake of even fuller disclosure, I worked at Bear Stearns for one day in 1994. I was fresh out of college, and was hired as a cold caller. The broker thought I was fabulous on the telephone, but the manager was angry that the broker hired me wiithout his knowledge. Plus, my hair was past my collar, and I wore a dark red shirt instead of a white one. The manager had a military background, and over the vehement objections of the broker, I was told to leave. I was not fired, because I was told I was never hired. Thankfully, soon after that, the manager was fired. Several years later, I did some temp work at the same office. They did not remember me from the first time, and the few days I spent their were fine. I even saw people wear jeans on Friday.

Lastly, in the department of too much disclosure, my best friend growing up worked at J.P. Morgan. He did not know a stock from a bond, so I wondered how he ended up on Wall Street when 50 million people would kill to work there. He eplained that he worked in the firm’s gym as a personal trainer. He told me that if I sent him my resume, he could see about getting me an interview. When I asked if he knew anybody in equity research, he replied, “no, but I know everyone at the gym.” I laughed, thanked him, and decided not to ask him to flex his (gym earned) corporate muscles.

As for this violent Bear (Stearns) Market, there are certain things that need to be kept in perspective.

The United States is not in free fall.

Yes, the dollar is low. The downside to this is that people do not want to invest in a weak dollar. However, a strengthening of the dollar would exacerbate the trade imbalance and deficits we ave with many nations. I will be the first to admit that the dollar must stop weakening, because unless we remain an economic superpower, we will not be a military superpower.

This is not 1929. It is not even 1987. Yet unfortunately, like both of those situations, this situation was completely avoidable.

In the 1920s, people bought stocks on margin. Margin is leverage. When you buy something outright, be it a car, a house, or a stock, you own it, lock, stock (as in market), and barrel (as in oil). It cannot be taken away from you. When you buy on margin, and you default, you lose it. The reason that today the margin level is 50% (higher for riskier stocks, some which cannot be margined) is because back in the 1920s, margin was only 10%.

So as cruel as this sounds, those that lost money in the stock market got what they deserved. No, the rest of America did not deserve the Great Depression, but the speculator went wild, and eventually lost. The expression, “Don’t confuse brains with a bull market” is still apropos. Also, in an irony that should not be lost today, it was J.P Morgan himself who stepped in and saved the country during an early 20th century financial panic. The private sector did have its positives.

In the 1980s, leverage became the issue again, this time in the form of derivatives, mainly options. People thought they were buying “portfolio insurance,” to keep their portfolios safe. There is nothing safe about financial markets outside of bank CDs and money market funds. Attempts to smooth out markets and minimize risk usually lead to bigger risk and more violent swings. The portfolio insurance did not work, the options went against those using them, and the stock market crashed over 500 points, a 22% loss in one day in 1987. Quick and decisive action by Sir Alan of Greenspan prevented what could have been a financial breakdown.

The situation today is no different. People can blame greedy and crooked lenders to make themselves feel better, but at some point personal responsibility has to take over. Speculation is as old as the hills, and whether it be tulips, paper, gold, porkbellies, internet stocks, or real estate with “cheap” loans, the bottom line is that bubbles will burst and unlucky gamblers will lose.

I do not wish financial misery on anybody, because when people hurt, America hurts. My career is highly correlated with the economy. I am the first to get hurt when things go South.

So given my 14 years of experience on Wall Street, I offer sound advice for many.

If you cannot afford something, do not buy it. I drive a 1987 Oldsmobile Cutlass Siera. Yes, this IS your father’s oldsmobile. The owner took good care of it, and I bought it with only 74,000 miles on it. I live only a few minutes from my office, and put less than 10,000 miles per year on a car. This helps from a quality of life standpoint as well. No, the car is not sexy. Who cares? I have seen guys drive $200,000 cars, and have them repossessed. I bought mine for $2,000, and I own it.

I do not own my own home. I rent. I would love to buy my condo, but the prices are too high. Besides, people should not buy anything without doing research. I know nothing about real estate. I do know stocks, which is where I put my money.

Today people are in debt for different reasons than in the 1920s. There are many of people saddled with debt, including many in lower middle class neighborhoods, who had to buy a big screen tv on an installment plan. I went “factory refurbished,” after determining that this was safe as long as I had a warranty. My 55 inch tv cost me $800, and has lasted several years. Yes I wll cry when it dies, but it was worth the purchase. My black leather sofa set seats 9 people. Two of the chairs fold out into lounge chairs, and the other side opens up to form a bed. It costs over $2000 in stores. I bought it on EBAY for $600. The couple that sold it was too rich to care. One person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Another person in my building was going to throw away a lovely marble table. Yes, I think they were insane. I quickly (ok, slowly, it was heavy) brought it back to my condo. It is a gorgeous table, and I am stunned that somebody would not want it.

As for investing, all investing…let me repeat, all investing…is gambling. There is no guarantee that we can make our portfolio risk free from a safety of principal standpoint (again, discounting bank CDs and T-Bills), but stupid behavior can increase risk dramatically.

Do not buy something if you do not know what it is. Your friend knows nothing, unless they are a financial professional. Their needs may differ from yours. Mutual Funds are not “safer.” All a Mutual Fund is is a collection of “things.” If these individual things are risky, adding them together may not lead to a diversified portfolio. It could lead to less diversification and more risk.

Also, public companies issue reports. Those reports are public information. Everything about the financial health of the company is right there. One company may have 20 billion dollars of cash reserves and no debt. Other companies may be saddled with debt. Most companies are inbetween, but their capital structure is in plain view.

Even situations like Enron can be avoided from an investor standpoint. I have gotten many things wrong, but this one I got completely right. By reading that the company had a significant amount of “off balance sheet financing,” one could see the company was debt laden. It was in the footnotes.

Additionally, those with 401ks should make sure that the 401k is not heavily invested in the stock of their own company. It does not matter how large or solid the company may be. Bear Stearns was not a fly by night operation.

Some people claim they are too busy to do the research. Yet even if they hire a financial planner or money manager, they must do research on that professional, and oversee them. Being too busy is not an answer.

If your life is at stake, you do what is needed to save it. The health of your finances should be no different.

It is your money.

eric 

General Sherman’s March Through Atlanta Continues

Saturday, March 15th, 2008

I normally write my column the night before, and publish it during the day. Thank God, for once, I was too tired to write last night, and that I checked the news before writing.

My column was supposed to be titled, “General Sherman should have finished the job.” It ws one of my typical diatribes where I blame an entire city for some misfortunes that could have happened anywhere.

For those who do not know, a tornado belted Atlanta last night. Winds of up to 130 mph ripped through the city and destroyed homes. There is nothing funny about this, and lord knows my conscience would be eating at me if I had written my original column.

I was in Atlanta yesterday on business. I left the office at 1pm for what should have been a 30-45 minute drive to catch a 3:40 flight. Easy as can be, epecially with a GPS tracker in the rental car.

Then the rains came. Then I may or may not have missed the freeway entrance. Apparently Atlanta does not believe in second chances when it comes to freeways, so I took side streets. After two hours due to rain and accidents, I arrived at what I thought would be the rental car entrance. It would take a miracle, but if I really hauled it I could make the flight.

The sign said Hertz. I rented from Avis, so I figured I had to drive a few more feet. I did not know that all the rental cars dropped off at the same spot. There was no way to turn back around. It took me another 30 minutes to go around the block. I called up Delta, got somebody from India, and had them transfer me to somebody that understood me. Luckily, the next flight was only an hour later. At worst it would slightly screw up my dinner plans.

The lady at Avis charged me an extra day for the rental car because I was an hour late. Trying to argue with somebody that does not care is like trying to teach a pig to sing. It wastes time and annoys the pig. Also, Delta charged me extra for the flight because they no longer do standby. I mean what is customer service except to aggravate customers?

To give you an example of how enraged I was, think about my political philosophy. I worship at the altar of big business. Therefore, if you are a big business, and I hate you, then nobody on Earth likes you. I hope the government lets the airlines go bankrupt until competent people take over.

I had not eaten all day, and I had to grab some Krystal and quickly board. When I say Krystal, I mean small burgers, not fancy alcohol. I was in the back row of the plane in a middle seat.

At that moment I wanted General Sherman to finish the job in Atlanta. For those of you who attend public school, General William Tecumseh Sherman’s “March to the Sea,” was a major victory for the Union over the Confederacy. In that battle General Sherman burned Atlanta to the ground. I left Atlanta at 5pm, and arrived in Chicago for a lovely dinner party with the Chicago Cannonball. The weather was in the 50s. Yes, Chicago was balmier than Atlanta.

I had a list of all the destruction I wanted inflicted upon Atlanta. Not the outer areas, just the city. The airport needed to be destroyed. It is a zoo. I frequently go through LAX and JFK. Even Ohare is not that bad. Atlanta is dreadful.

The people at Delta and Avis should have made exceptions due to the inclement weather and not gouged me.

Although CNN had nothing to do with this situation, I wanted them to be wrecked as well simply because I don’t like them. Besides, something needs to ruin Anderson Cooper’s hair, even if for a few minutes.

Yet rather than write the column, I decided to wait until morning. This was mostly due to my favorite type of exhaustion, but also because I try to be careful about heaping scorn on people (Eliot Spitzer being the exemption. There, I found a way to incorporate him into my wrath.).

Last year I was without internet access at home for 6 weeks. Thankfully it was before I began my blog. I wished bad things on Earthlink, especially since they, like Delta, had outsourced their tech support to India. I am not proud that I wanted the top people at Earthlink to die, and I was mortified when Earthlink CEO Gary Betty died of brain cancer at age 49 a few weeks later.

I don’t want people to die. I just, like most people, do not like inconveniences. Unlike most people I wish I handled such inconveniences better.

So as I woke up today at the crack of noon Chicago time, I prepared to write how badly I wanted destruction and mayhem to be inflicted upon Atlanta. I decided to check the news just to make sure the world had not blown up. After all, it would not look good if bombs had gone off in America and I was worried about missing a flight.

I saw the news. A tornado had destroyed Atlanta. The destruction and mayhem had happened.

My thoughts turned to my friend, whose house I had slept in the previous night, the same house I left at 1pm. I hope he and his family are ok. Even CNN headquarters sustained some damage, and no, I am not cheering or holding a parade. Speaking of parades, the St. Patrick’s Day Parade has been canceled. I hope the Irish Americans that helped make this country great pick up the slack in other cities on March 17th.

As ticked off as I get over stuff, I have been relatively unscathed by life. This is nothing but luck. I was in Fort Payne Alabama in 2005. I was trapped in a rainstorm, and disgusted. I went back to Los Angeles, and two weeks later Alabama got belted by the same rain that hurt Louisiana and Mississippi even worse. It was Hurricane Katrina, and I had missed it by two weeks.

This one I missed by mere hours.

I know I need to start being nicer, and more compassionate, and more understanding.

I also know that will most likely not happen overnight, if it happens at all.

I will be back in Hotlanta again soon, and I hope it is a poitive experience for me and the residents of that city.

Besides, when it is not raining, Hotlanta is a great city.

I hope the people are ok. Except the ones at Delta and Avis that jacked with my finances.

Oh heck, who am I kidding. I hope they are ok as well. Lord knows I do not want to be on the receiving end of bad wishes. If God wants to shove a lightning bolt up my rumpus, I am not that hard to find. None of us are.

eric

Burn in Hell Eliot Spitzer

Tuesday, March 11th, 2008

First, some dates in American history.

March 11th, 2004…The Madrid bombing. We must win the War on Terror at all costs.

March 11th, 2007…The Tygrrrr Express enters the blogosphere. I thank every single person that contributed in any way, shape or form. 118,388 hits and counting.

March 11th, 2008…Happy Anniversary to me, a sobering reminder of Madrid, and…skewering a man through song.

“I didn’t know if it was day or night. I started screwing everything in sight. Yet when stung by a cop it was the end of the line…I lost my career….Love Potion Client # 9.”

One of the worst human beings to ever enter politics is finally burnt toast.

Like most liberals and women, he will not resign or surrender. He will go kicking, screaming and browbeating to the poisonous end.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/08/liberals-and-women-never-resign-or-surrender/

Burn in Hell Eliot. I plan to Spitzer on your political grave.

For those who read the Tygrrrr Express and are used to me being civil, today the gloves are coming off. I want Eliot Spitzer destroyed. I want his insides ripped out.

This is not about liberal vs conservative. It is about a horrible man destroying decent people just because he can. It is about a bully finally getting decked between the eyes and crying. Not since I was in Junior High School have I wanted to see a man get belted so ferociously.

For those who saw the 1980s gangster movie, “New Jack City,” let me recall a scene for you. Ice-T played a cop. Wesley Snipes played a drug dealer. ICE-T finds out that Snipes’s character Nino Brown killed an innocent schoolteacher at random for sport. That was ICE’s character’s mother. ICE-T crashes through Nino Brown’s apartment with a motorcycle, shatters the glass, and punches Brown in the face repeatedly. When the shocked drug dealer cannot understand why business has gone bad, ICE-T responds, “F*ck business b*tch, this sh*t is personal!”

I disagree with liberals. The differences are ideological. I am quite bothered by the Clintons. They offend me from a moral standpoint. Yet with Eliot Spitzer, it is personal.

The man personally hurt me.

I am a creature of Wall Street. The opening bell of the stock market is like rocket fuel for me. I hear the sound, and in my best Mills Lane voice yell, “Let’s get it on!” Whether up or down, every day is a new adventure. The smell of money is within reach.

On the trading floor, my friends and I had a creative strategy for making money, and this strategy was utilized most effectively in a bear market when stocks were down. It was the closest thing to easy money I had ever made. I used to think that short selling was unpatriotic, because it was placing bets against corporate America. However, I later realized that I was playing a fair game by the rules, and that if the corporations did their jobs, made money, and proved me wrong, I would lose my bets.

Eliot Spitzer then came on the scene and waged a Jihad against traders. The Mutual Fund Timing Scandal had rocked Wall Street, and Mr. Spitzer was having difficulty obtaining high level white collar convictions for his “perp walks” in front of the cameras. So instead of pursuing the elephants, he went after mice with elephant clubs. He needed to look like he was doing something, anything, so he banned the trading strategy my friends and I were utilizing. The few hundred shares at a clip apparently were a bigger threat than the billions flowing into mutual funds.

I walked in the office one day, and was told that my trading strategy was illegal, and that I would have to find another strategy. That is a death sentence to a trader. Only the lucky few ever develop one winning strategy, much less two. I left the trading floor, a beaten and broken man.

Although I have built a good life for myself, I do not think I will ever enjoy the same excitement that came from the trading floor. My time is past with it. I am done.

Eliot Spitzer destroyed my trading career. I hope he forever burns.

Mr. Spitzer may be too old to know the fury of the music behind Guns n Roses, but lyrics from “Welcome to the Jungle” encapsulate my feelings.

“If you’ve a hunger for what you see…take it eventually…you can have anything you want, but you better not take it from me.”

Spitzer, don’t ever…and I mean ever…mess with my family or my livelihood…and think I won’t pray for vengeance. This was 2004. I still remember.

As the New York Attorney General, he became the second coming of Eliot Ness from the Untouchables. He believed that he himself was untouchable. He harassed Wall Street like the liberal bully that he is. He banked on the fact that so many liberals are obsessed with class warfare that they would just accept that all corporations were corrupt, and that Wall Street was the root of all that evil. Yes, there was some corruption, but not on the massive scale he envisioned. He used blackmail and threats to force companies into settlements, knowing that fighting back would be a public relations death sentence.

He was the White Knight in shining liberal armor, and he would get those big, bad, conservative, republican, Wall Street bankers.

Now the king of regulation and indictments has been indicted himself, for taking part in a prostitution ring.

Although criminal sanctions and punishments involving sexual behavior are usually only directed at republicans, this case might be an exception. Bill Clinton was able to get away with it because few people expected any decency from him. Eliot Spitzer built his career destroying others for what he deemed to be immoral lifestyles. He got violently bucked off his own moral high horse, and the moral concussion upon landing could not happen to a worse guy.

I could care less about his family. He did not care about mine.

It’s the hypocrisy stupid.

I hope that every liberal that has ever criticized Joseph McCarthy understand and accept why Eliot Spitzer needs the emotional equivalent of being dragged through the town square. Personally, I think the republican Majority Leader of the New York Senate should take him away in handcuffs, a nice perp walk for the cameras. After all, Spitzer did use his office to try and trump up charges against the Majority Leader, Joseph Bruno.

Make him emotionally bleed.

The next time a left wing crusader wants to be President by trampling on the rights of innocent human beings trying to make a living while babbling on it about caring about the little guy, he might want to make sure his own house is not rotting from the inside.

He may blubber in public about how he lost his honor. This is false. He never had any.

Mr. Spitzer, I declare your way of living illegal.

New York will now have a new Governor. Whether democrat or republican, they will be better because they are not you.

Hizzdishonor, let me say to you what you said to me back in 2004.

Mr Spitzer…you worthless bucket of scum…Mr. Love Potion Client # 9…

YOU’RE FIRED!

Now get the f*ck out of my office. I am a taxpayer, and it’s my mansion, not yours.

eric

Entering Victoria’s Secret

Saturday, March 8th, 2008

I am not a brave man. I freely admit that I am a girly sissy pansy boy.

It is snowing in Chicago, and I am deathly afraid the fat white oversized wet things are going to find me, give me influenza, and kill me. While the Chicago Cannonball is frolicking around in a pajama top, making this city very bearable, I can only say that I am glad I did not have to embarrass myself to buy that silver piece of cloth.

Those silk pajamas were bought in Thailand. That was not scary. I went into a normal store and bought them. I do not speak Thai, but it was a regular transaction. I did not have to go into the place that turns this Tygrrrr into a lamb. I did not have to venture into Victoria’s Secret.

Yes, this republican becomes very ultra conservative when the topic is women’s underwear. I do not mind biting them off of a woman with my teeth, but don’t make me buy them. I am just not into the details and nuances required to buy the stuff. Why can’t women be like men and just go into a grocery store and buy Hanes? I mean they fit fine, and Inspector 12 made sure they were quality.

I had to go into Victoria’s Secret in 1990. A girl I liked worked there in the mall. Would it have killed her to have worked in the food court instead? Then we could have gotten free pizza or something. No, I had to pick her up in Victoria’s Secret. I took a female friend with me to the mall for moral support.

When my friend could not understand why I was so intimidated by that place, I told her that men should not go in there. She pointed out that lots of men go in there, but my response, which I maintain to this very day is that “Men who are in Victoria’s Secret are way too happy to be in there.”

Instead of going in to get my date, I sent my friend in. I knew that would be manly. One reason the date liked me when we met was because I came across as a tough guy. My plan failed when my friend came back out and said, “Eric, she is gorgeous, you have to go in there and get her.” When I asked why my friend did not simply bring her out, I was told that I was to go in.

With much trepidation, I entered the store, looking all around to see who was looking at me. A saleswoman was looking at me and ready to approach me. I was scared to death, wondering why any saleswoman would talk to me in that store. Couldn’t she look at me and have her female ESP tell her that I was not a customer? The woman asked me, “May I help you?” I replied, “No!” and then ran out of the store.

I then told my friend we were going home. So yes, I pased up a chance to meet a gorgeous girl because it is better to be seen as a (insert bad word women use for guys who act like whateve that word is) than a women’s underwear pervert.

While I vowed to never go in again, my Hebrew faith led me back into the store. For those wondering what Judaism has to do with lady’s underwear, the answer is simple. 18 is a lucky number in Jewish culture. My dear friend “Sir Sleep A Lot” was visiting from Israel. He needed to buy something sexy for his fiancee. Given that 2008 was 18 years after my last visit, I had to go in.

The worst part was listening to the salespeople ask him exactly what the contours of his fiancee were. Apparently there are different types pf underwear for different women. I refused to listen to the presentation, scared that somebody from the republican party would enter the place and compare me to Larry Craig or something. Then again, if they are republicans, what are they doing in Victoria’s Secret anyway?

Sir Sleep A Alot could not figure out a way to explain to the salespeople that his girlfriend would make Sir Mix A Lot’s girlfriend proud. For those that are not up on rap music from 15 years ago, the song was “Baby Got Back.”

Luckily I had a 21st century reference. I told my friend to tell the saleswoman that his fiancee had a “badonkadonk.” He had trouble saying the word, but the saleswoman understood and smiled. I am glad I did not have to bring up my unhealthy fascination with Monique from Showtime at the Apollo to explain it further.

While some men may find it erotic to have a well endowed saleswoman discussing the romantic possibilities of edible underthings, I just kept staring at my watch and wondering how long it can take to throw something in a box and buy it. As I said, I do not mind the end results at home, but I don’t want to go throug the process of purchasing them. If the lord wanted me to get erotic lingerie in front of the world he would not have created the internet with help from Al Gore. Besides, given what a pantywaist Gore is, I am sure he is an expert about Victoria’s Secret. Tipper did say he was a great lover. He is stiff after all.

The saleswoman saw my discomfort, and finally asked me why I felt that way. I stated that “I am sure most of the men who come in here are perverts, and I prefer not to be lumped in that category.” She laughed, but I continued.

“Be honest, how many guys try to buy the mannequins?” Sir Sleep A Lot was mortified at the thought, gentleman that he is, but my suspicions were confirmed. Men do offer to buy the Mannequins. Some men only want the appendages! I was in a store where guys try to traffic in fake human body parts! Are you kidding me?

I just am too incredibly, dare I say it, normal. My answer to everything is “Strawberry.” When I worked at a gift store in 1994, I was in charge of coffee mugs. If you wanted to know about mugs, I was your mug man. The store sold cute “Hello Kitty Stuff,” greeting cards, and other seasonal merchandise. Yet they had a small erotica section, and when a girl asked me which flavor of edible underthings was best, I went back to ask the manager. She told me in those situations to just recommend strawberry and move on to the next customer.

I am the son of retired schoolteachers for crying out loud. I am not descendant from people who buy mannequins, blow up dolls, or underwear that talks back in a sexy voice. I have no idea if that exists, but some sick twisted individual will invent if they have not already.

Maybe I should be more sympathetic towards Bill Clinton. I will wave my finger at America and say that I had no knowledge of any aforementioned panties, not one time, never. I have not once ever wondered what underclothing Hillary Clinton or Bea Arthur wear, and you should all be disgusted for bringing it up.

As for the Chicago Cannonball, at least she is using her laptop for something productive while I release my anxieities to the blogosphere. I could make another remark about her “laptop,” but I am not that sophomoric. She does have much nicer underclothing than me, but if asked to testify before Congress, she bought it without my help.

The snow is coming down hard, and I do not see myself leaving the bedroom. I pray that the Chicago Cannonball does not turn into one of those women that sends a guy out into the cold and snow to shop for feminine hygiene products. Being emasculated once every 18 years is enough for this nice Jewish boy from a good family.

Is it 2026 yet?

eric

Mocking worthy sentiments

Sunday, March 2nd, 2008

Awhile back while sobbing uncontrollably, I solicited ideas for what my column should be about on Sundays in lieu of football. People took the time to offer me sincere suggestions, and the least I can do is mock their worthy sentiments.

Andy Hefty wanted me to write about a column he wrote called “let’s hear it for the wives.”

http://www.jacksonville.com/community/cc/hefty/stories/013006/01250634033.shtml

While the article itself is a beautiful tribute, the title scares me. After all, “wives” plural implies bigamy. I am happy to report that while Andy is the proud father to 13 children, he has only one spouse. This is the difference between being a good man and being dragged off to jail.

Personally, if I wrote the article I would call it, “let’s hear it for the wives, except when I am trying to watch the football game on Sunday.”

Or we can call it, “let’s hear it for the wives, because we don’t have a choice.”

Ok, we have mocked enough. It is a well written column (his, not mine).

Another guy named Randy recommended that I write about the key issue of terror divestment.

http://www.centerforsecuritypolicy.org/modules/newsmanager/center%20publication%20pdfs/divestterror_report.pdf

I support the cause. I engaged in terror divestment a few years ago. She was a complete nightmare, and I am glad I broke it off. To paraphrase investor Jim Rogers, “I started out with an old car and an old wife…I liquidated both.”

I will no longer do business with terrors. I don’t care how hot she is, I will not rub her with strawberry lotion or share a pair of edible underthings with her. It is an issue of national security.

I encourage everybody to engage in terror divestment. In fact, the minute the marriage ends, sell the ring on Ebay as quickly as possible.

Another worthy topic is Private First Class Corey Claggett.

http://www.amatotalk.com/news/2008/01/legal_defense_fund_for_private.htm

While this fellow absolutely deserves our attention, why has nobody contributed to my legal defense fund? How am I supposed to slap my secretary on her fabulous hide when nobody wants to pay the inevitable legal fees I would incur? Some of you are so inconsiderate. Do I have to be a democratic President to get some financial and legal help because I wanna troll for subordinate rumpus? Work with me here people. Start dialing for dollars so my fingers can dial for yummies with no consequences.

One fellow had the nerve to ask me to help him educate people. He wanted people to stop being so lazy.

http://amfree.blog-city.com

As someone that likes sleeping until noon on weekends, I resent the attack on lazy people. This fellow obviously does not understand that getting up when one does not have to is difficult. How dare he try and get people to better themselves. He is a scourge. That reminds me, I need to turn the ringer off.

A lovely woman named Celeste Allen suggested I write about illegal immigration and the border fence.

She is right. The Canadians have to be stopped. They are the scourge of the North, and they cheated in 1993 in hockey and basketball. Let’s not even get into the 2002 gold medal hockey game. Every Canadian needs to be deported immediately for this. Also, all pasty white people in Minnesota, North Dakota and Buffalo need to go as well because they could be closet Canadians. I am tired of Canadians coming to America and stealing Mexican jobs.

www.RichValdes.com

The fellow above said that family and social issues were his favorite. I will not write about Oedipus or Electra Complexes. It is a disgusting subject, and Rich should be ashamed of himself for suggesting it. Many families have “issues,” and their private smut is their own business.

David Lavallee wrote this to me on January 28th:

“Eric,
I do feel sorry for you out there in California, BUT it is not off season out here in beautiful Massachusetts home of the New England Patriots. SORRY”

David…my friend…nah, too easy.

www.americantruckersatwar.com

Despite the title of the above site, it has nothing to do with the movie “Smokey and the Bandit.” These guys should stop fighting with each other and focus on something important like the War on Terror. Now I know they claim that is what they care about, but on my blog I have carte blanche, which is French for carte blanche. Then again, I would rather read about American truckers and war than peaceful Europeans wearing lederhosen.

Ron Lipsman asked me to promote his book.

http://home.comcast.net/~ronlipsman

Ron, the bad news is I trackback to people I hate. That way I can lower their blog by implying they associate with me. So if your book sales plummet, my plan to tar you by guilt of association worked. If my plan failed, I want royalties immediately.

http://patricksperry.wordpress.com/

“I would suggest taking up fly fishing, and then reporting back about your experiences, but you are not up for any new hobbys…I suppose we could send you off to Front Sight for a course or two, and you could report back here…”

Patrick will understand that flyfishing is for New Hampshirites and Presidential suckups. As much as I would love the power of being President, I hate cold weather. The only fly fishing I ever do is when my zipper get stuck and I have to struggle to find the thing and get it back up before the women in the restaurant complain to the manager.

Karen said the following:

“I think you should have people submit an article from their own blog! Then, pick one!”

Karen, that is an idiotic idea. I would never even consider doing something so…oh, wait, I seem to be doing that now. To quote Gilda Radner, “Never mind.”

Ok, I am sure you are all waiting for a spectacular ending that will justify your getting all the way to the bottom of this point.

Ta da (black smoke only I can see fills the room)!

To quote what I say to all my exes, “Yes, that is all there is.”

Keep waiting.

eric

Comedy Saturday

Saturday, February 16th, 2008

As I prepare to enter the first week of approximately 30 weeks of misery, I have solicited opinions from the entire world to provide me with ideas. I made the mistake of not being specific in that I wanted actual good ideas. So to those who offered terrible suggestions, and you should know who you are, do not expect me to rescue you when you trip and fall into a volcano.

Ok, so football season just ended and I am already getting punchy.

At times like this I refer back to Craig T. Nelson on “Coach.” When his girlfriend pointed out that she went to all his football games but he never went with her to the art gallery, he earnestly replied, “Yeah, but people like football.” Men everywhere should memorize that scene, and force women to watch it.

More than one person suggested that I discuss the baseball steroid hearings on Capitol Hill. The problem with that suggestion is that the only thing more boring than Congress on C-Span is baseball. Combine the two, and insomnia is cured. For the safety of all Americans, it should be illegal to drive a car after watching it. Speaking of illegal, one way we could eliminate all illegal immigrants is by making them drive 18 wheelers in traffic after watching the baseball hearings. I am not sure if the Geneva Convention considers that torture.

Somebody pointed out to me that the republicans seemed to be defending Roger Clemens, while the democrats were attacking him. I did not see the hearings, but this makes sense.

For one thing, Roger Clemens was alleged to have been injected with steroids in his anus. I wonder if Senator Larry Craig was taking notes. Clemens had a wide stance when pitching, and Senator Craig has a wide stance when allegedly trolling for young, hot, male mall @ss.

The other reason this would make sense is that athletes tend to be republicans. Jim Bunning, Jack Kemp, J.C. Watts and others are all right of center. Liberals are usually the angry bitter guys that got beat up by the athletes in Junior High School. They seek vengeance for having been stuffed into their lockers by growing up and raising taxes on their former tormentors.

Anyway, now that football is done, there is always NASCAR. That would be helpful except that I don’t watch NASCAR. I haven’t been able to watch a race since Dale Earnhardt died. I do root for his son, but not enough to watch. I know that I am not a fan of pretty boy Jeff Gordon.

As comedian and blue collar hero Jeff Foxworthy points out, “Jeff Gordon is not a real racer. Jeff Gordon is not a real racer, because Jeff Gordon can enunciate.” Now Dale Earnhardt was as incomprehensible as “Boomhauer” on “King of the Hill.” That was an auto racer.

So with no real sports on television, I would rather people read other blogs rather than wasting their time on mine. There are some funny people out there.

“America Needs Me” is the blog of conservative comedian Stephen Kruiser. I do not recall who introduced me to him, but the guy is warped and funny.

http://stephenkruiser.blogspot.com/

http://www.stephenkruiser.com/

While my blog is not about equal time, a liberal comedian worth checking out is Jackie Clarke. For those wondering why I would bother promoting a leftist, it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I want to claw through her underwear with my teeth until she screams either my name or that of Ronald Reagan.

I am just trying to help out a friend, nothing more. As for rumors that I want to give her the ketchup bottle treatment, these rumors have to stop. They are totally inappropriate, and beneath the dignity of a hot piece of liberal tail like her. She has also a deep knowledge of football, but despite my begging her to send me a picture of her wearing only a football helmet, she remains chaste, at least with me.

http://www.jackieclarke.blogspot.com/

Not every comedian has a bottom that I want to play volleyball with. Despite my unhealthy affection for bald guys, I desire them much less than they desire me. Nevertheless, one cueball friend of mine deserves all the fame that comes his way, whether it be plenty or none. For those who are Jews or fans of Burger King and McDonalds, or all of the above, be warned in advance. As for Arabs that prefer falafel, to the best of my limited knowledge he has not offended you yet.

http://www.pointless-drivel.com/

One fellow sent me a nice note with his suggestion.

 

“Eric:

Thanks for your message. My sympathies. I too find the end of
football season to be the end of my active interest in sports.

Given your extensive acquaintance with the media and entertainment,
how about a commentary on cultural garbage of the week?

Tom”

The problem with this is that me pointing out cultural garbage would be hypocritical, given that my blog gets worse by the day. It hurts that every day other people are linking to my blog as an example of where society went wrong, so I will not sink to their level.

Thanks for nothing Tom!

I will say that while I like political brawling, rarely is it very funny. Yet Bill O’Reilly had on a guest that got off the line of the night, forcing me to rethink an issue. Given how closeminded I am, this is impressive.

Dr. Marc Lamont Hill is a young black professor of urban studies at Temple University. He is a liberal, but for once he made a good point. O’Reilly was suggesting in the wake of the most recent school shooting that professors should be allowed to carry concealed weapons. Now I am staunchly pro Second Amendment, but Dr. Hill asked a valid question. “Would you want Ward Churchill carrying a gun?”

In an ideal world, the professors would not be more psychotic than the student killers, but life is not ideal. I will have to ponder that one.

Another individual recommended to me that does not share my ideology is a fellow that is “Rudely Stamped.”

 

http://www.rudelystamped.blogspot.com/

Scroll down to his post on illegal immigration and the national debt. This fellow is a crackpot, meaning he might be right on target.

Another fellow that is highly entertaining is the Pissed Off Tree Rat. He likes the Detroit Lions, so I understand his pain.

http://pissedofftreerat.wordpress.com/

Lastly, for those that get beyond bored, I never get tired of the following clip of a prank phone call. Clips from Jack Nicholson in “A Few Good Men,” are spliced, and the woman receiving the call has no idea what hit her. It is only 75 seconds long.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jHytjg-5KA

Ok all, I am off to try and find reasons to live given that there is no football on Sunday. I shall ponder my pain while taking a nap. Your sympathy is underwhelming.

eric

 

 

Thrill and Danger in the Desert

Monday, February 4th, 2008

Wow! What a thriller of a Superbowl.

For those expecting a Superbowl recap, you will have to wait until Saturday. You shouldn’t have missed the game anyway. Life is about adventure, and sometimes my adventures are more harrowing than what takes place on the field.

At 4:30pm on Saturday, I made a decision to go to the Superbowl. I have watched them on tv with millions of people, but never been to one. 50 years from now, when I have grandchildren, and they are watching clips of Eli Manning and “the scramble,” I will tell them that the day the Giants shocked the world…I was there.

Yet life after the Superbowl was not good. First of all, I could not even get a plane ticket home from Phoenix to Los Angeles. I was going to have to fly into Long Beach, which meant my cab ride would be exorbitant. Compared to the price of Superbowl tickets, I could live with this. What I did not factor into my flight home was the fact that parts of Arizona never change their clocks. Half of the year, LA and Phoenix are exactly the same time. This time of year, Phoenix is one hour ahead.

This meant that kickoff was after 4pm, not 3pm. That meant that there was no way to make my outbound flight, and there were no other flights. So I decided to drive all the way back to LA, a 5 hour drive according to what people told me. Yet this was an inconvenience. Trying to get to my car was a nightmare.

I was one of the last people to leave the stadium, since I wanted to soak up every ounce of Superbowl memory. Had I walked with others to my car, it would have been fine. I walked alone, and I could not find my car. I did not park at the stadium. I parked at the local high school, which was near the stadium. Yet the people who told me where the high school was located were wrong. I walked back and forth for what must have been 3 or 4 miles. In an awful development, I learned that there were two high schools. They were both near each other, but on opposite sides of the stadium.

I called Hertz, and they told me that even though the car had a GPS tracker, they could not locate the car using that device. I was always under the impression that if a car is lost or stolen, they can find it. Perhaps Hertz just did not care. I even knocked on the doors of complete strangers at night, begging and pleading for directions.

My situation was desperate, and realizing that I was on the street in a city I knew nothing about late at night caused me to do the one thing that I did not want to do. I called 911.

Some may say calling 911 in this type of situation is extreme, but I literally felt like I was going to die on the streets of Phoenix. The police officer from the Glendale Police Department said I did the right thing by calling him, and that he would help me. He was very reassuring. Some people may dislike cops (which I don’t), but boy was I glad when he showed up. I explained to him that I clearly remembered the location of the car with regards to being across the street from a sign that had the name of the high school. I could not remember which high school, so he asked me which exit I came off of from the freeway to begin with.

He put my stuff in the back of his car, and after patting me down and making sure I had no weapons on me, he let me ride in the front of the squad car so I would only feel like an imbecile, and not a criminal. He said, “If you have to ride in a squad car as a civilian, this is the way to do it.” We went back on the freeway, looped around, and then I clearly saw the sign. I was at the wrong high school earlier, and 3 miles from where my car was. When I saw my own car I felt relieved, and after putting my stuff in the car, I asked the officer if I could give him a hug. He said yes.

It turns out the guy was a Charger fan, but his duty to help allowed him to save the life of a member of the Raider Nation. I told him that I would root for the Chargers to go 14-2 next year, provided they lose to the Raiders. He laughed. He waited for me to make sure my car would start. It did, and the GPS tracker told me I had 368 miles to go to reach Los Angeles. It was now 12:20am.

For legal reasons I cannot confirm or deny how fast I was driving on the way home, but if I had been pulled over, I would have just thanked the officer for saving my life. I will be sending a thank you note to the officer from Glendale, Arizona.

The only people on the road were truckers and me. I have always liked truckers, and have always loved the movie Smokey and the Bandit. Before getting into that trilogy, it seems that every song on the radio deal with driving.

“Life is a highway…I’m gonna ride it all night long.”

“Been driving all night, my hands wet on the wheel.”

“Here I go again on my own…going down the only road I’ve ever known.”

At least I didn’t have to hear a depressing song, “Who’s gonna drive you home tonight.”

Yet when the radio station went fuzzy, not a good thing on long drives, it was the Smokey and the Bandit trilogy that sustained me. I was “Westboun and Down.” Yet instead of hauling illegal liquor from Atlanta to Texas, I was hauling my own tired self from Phoenix to Los Angeles. The Bandit Express was now the Tygrrrr Express.

“You heard about the Legend of Jesse James…John Henry just to mention some names…well there’s a driving legend in the west today…A man called Tygrrrr from L.A. CA. Every gear jammer knows his name…they say he’s got ice water running through his veins…foot like lead…and nerves of steel…gonna go to glory riding 18 wheels”

Nerves of steel not counting my near death and frayed nerves on the streets of Phoenix. Once in the car, I was calm.

“I hit California in a driving rain…so hard I couldn’t even see the passing lane…started to shift when I lost a gear…hit the breaks, found they had no air…the road ahead was steep and long, and everybody who saw it, thought the Tygrrrr was gone.

My wheels jacknifed turned completely round, I was going down backwards bout the speed of sound. Alot of folks seen it, but they all say, you better head out, better clear the way…well I got to the bottom…safe and sound…everybody asked ‘Tygrrrr, how’d you make it down,’ I said ‘folks when the wheels picked up too much speed, I just run along beside it and drug my feet.’

You heard the legend of Jesse James…John Henry just to mention some names…There’s a driving legend in the west today…a man called Tygrrrr from L.A. CA…Every gearjammer knows his name…they say he’s got icewater running through his veins…foot like lead, nerves of steel…gonna go to glory riding 18 wheels.”

Hey, at least it was better than driving songs such as Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “The smell of death,” and Golden Earring’s “Twilight Zone (although Radar Love was cited earlier).”

“Westbound and Down, loaded up and trucking…we’re gonna do what they say can’t be done…we gotta long way to go, and a short time to get there…westbound, for another Tygrrrr run. Put your foot hard on the pedal…son never mind them breaks…let it all hang out cause we got a run to make…”

Snowman: Hey Bandit, why are we doing this?

Bandit: Why not?

Snowman: They said it couldn’t be done.

Bandit: That’s the reason son.

Snowman: That’s good with Fred. we’re clear.

“If I keep it on the ground, when I put that hammer down…I’ll be Cali bound and flying…I’ve got my tin in the wind, let it all hang out again…how you gonna win if you aint trying.”

The Tygrrrr Express made its way through the desert, and eventually I did figure out how to work the windshield wipers. Arizona was easy, but I even managed to miss an exit in Los Angeles, where I have lived since 1990. I ended up downtown, adding 30 minutes.

“Hear that roar of thunder…hear those wild screams…every boy’s hero…every lady’s dream…flying down the highway headed west…in a streak of black lightning, called the Tygrrrr Express…

Look out the Tygrrrr’s prowling…look out the Tygrrrr’s growling…look out the Tygrrrr’s on the move…Look out the Tygrrrr’s growling, get your money and warn the women…tell the others they can all take a rest…cause they’ll never catch the Tygrrrr Express.”

I made it back to my bed at 5:30am, but thanks to that time zone thing that had vexed me earlier, it was only 4:30am. I made it to work, at least physically.

Yes, the young antihero of this blog who occasionally puts the Super in Superbowl is back at home, safe and sound.

So tell the others all to take a rest…cause they’ll never catch the Tygrrrr Express.

eric