Free Association

There was a Jewish oil man in Wyoming who was being offered, to buy, a ranch that included some Black Angus cattle that were being grass fed on the ranch. The oilman reacted with a classic line (true story)... "I never own anything that's eating while I'm sleeping"...The Italians have a great line, "Unless you can stand ingratitude, never do anything for anybody". Makes it essential to do good things for good's sake - not for the reward. Ever wonder, as I do, what 40-year-old hookers turn to? Probably marry guys who have little interest in sex… In the seventies the Regency Hotel bar in The Big Apple used to attract older (thirty something) hookers. Very expensive. The crème de la crème of hooker bars in NYC was the Sherry Netherland Hotel bar. Knockout looking women, seriously expensive (sadly, way out of my pay scale)...But the opening question no matter what the pay scale was, "Are you a working girl?” And the all time fun bar in NYC was Maxwell's Plum...Always 4-5 deep with young guys and gals all looking to fall in love for an hour or two (wham, bam, slam, good bye ma’am). But I couldn't pick up a hooker or a straight woman if I had $100 bill pasted to my forehead. Happily I'd quit drinking by then.... And in Midland, Texas there was Lonnie, the bellman and an absolutely great guy, who was Midland's premier pimp (great personality with a stable of girls at his disposal). In the 70's Midland was a booming oil town and hookers were attracted to it. The last I heard Lonnie was shining shoes and making everyone laugh...Calgary, Canada was the last of the Wild West towns with the hookers patrolling "hotel row". Very fun town.... Drinking and using hookers wasn't too swift. Could hardly remember what happened except I that I always had less money in my pocket the next day. Sober and being able to remember what happened much better...In retrospect I find it remarkable that I did my business and evolved into a one-man investment "bank". With it all I developed was a deep store of knowledge of the oil and gas business plus a formidable address book of folks that are big time in the world of finance. I raised some $1 billion (adjusted for inflation) from blue chip pension funds while making good friends with the people I solicited for investment. I made bunches of money which I gave away or spent, enjoying myself as I went. Yeah, hookers were beneficiaries of my profligate spending. Life was (is) good. The alternative ain't too swift.

Bob Metcalfe, Boy Wonder, Grown Man Success

The French have a saying, "The best part of an affair is going up the stairs". And so it’s been that way for me with my 87-year affair with life. For me, the anticipation of finding the unexpected has been the equivalent of "going up the stairs". And so sitting by the tennis courts or out to dinner with a young friend of mine, Bob Metcalfe, many years ago, it was natural for me to insert myself into Bob's life and grind on him, hard, for him to look for the serendipity of life (climbing up the stairs) and use his formidable education, work background plus his unbelievable creativity "to go up the stairs" and give up being a wage slave.... Here was this guy, inventing, literally, a world changing procedure (Ethernet) and being a grunt for Xerox. How foolish. Bob was good looking, a very good tennis player loaded, with charisma and the necessary touch of arrogance, working for someone else. Made no sense to me. Finally Bob left Xerox and started consulting. One day he told me that he was going to Dallas to try to hook on with Texas Instruments as a consultant and proudly told me that he was going to ask $250/day ($70 dollars) and expenses. I looked at him like a bull with a bastard calf and reviewed with him his years in education (20 plus years), his academic degrees and years with Xerox Research. I told Bob to charge $1,000 a day plus first class airfares. So, he asked how the hell could he justify the number? I told him to tell the TI people that he split the difference between $750 and $1,250. He did get $700 and first class travel...The high point of my business relationship with Bob Metcalfe was to introduce him to Dick Kramlich of New Enterprise Associate, another great guy and super achiever, who became the lead investor in 3com - huge success for investors and Bob Metcalfe.

Rolled, Hedging, Fitness

Going to Israel, 1970, lay over in N.Y., get drunk, pick up hooker, pass out, no sex, get rolled....didn't miss a beat. Go to Israel next day but not feeling too swift or too smart (aka really stupid). Flew El Al, First Class, sat next to the head of Mossad. Not much conversation. Drinks served in very small glasses. Being a high velocity drinker I asked for my third drink within 10 minutes of taking off, the flight attendant looked at me and asked with that Israeli intonation, "Another one?"(emphasis on "another"). It took me 13 months of shuttling to Israel, while trying to promote seriously wealthy U.S. Jews, to conclude that Moses had made a significant error. He should have turned right instead of left and the Jews would have the oil - though in past years there was a huge off shore Israel natural gas discovery (in those days there were more Jews in New York City than Jews in Israel). In the beginning I went through several months of trying to connect with someone in the Israeli bureaucracy with zero success. So one night (my time) I phoned Golda Meir, the Israeli Prime Minister, spoke with someone in her office who put me in touch with Zvi Dinstein, the Israeli Energy Minister. Trying to raise money to drill for oil in Israel was a great ride. I grew to love unbelievably bureaucratic Israel and it’s over the top rude people. I have always contended that if you combine the rudeness of a New Yorker with the rudeness of a Parisian, you have an Israeli. But I loved them for what they were and are- a relentlessly creative and imaginative culture, rudeness and all. A word to the wise… Hedging oil and or gas prices ain't for neophytes or the weak of stomach. Check the airlines with their fancy computer driven models - lost reams of money playing the hedging game. "Sleep is one of the most vital workouts". Stay optimistic, stay fit (walk a lot) and laugh a lot for a long life.

66th Anniversary:Wilma:Shrinking Your Stomach

Three meaningful events happened on April 12: The Civil War began on that date in 1861, President Roosevelt died on that date in 1945, and an enemy bullet found its way into my left leg while I was in a muddy, nasty fox hole on Okinawa on that same day in 1945. Virtually everyone aboard the hospital ship, including me, cried when the news of the President's death came over the speaker on the hospital ship. Cry or whimper over a shot up leg? No chance. I felt lucky. Two feet or so higher I would have been made into a eunuch, castrated. So God does take care of drunks and fools and I had (emphasis on had) an active, memorable sex life which has virtually (I live in hope) disappeared...Ah, there was Wilma, a blind date from San Diego that I brought over, for "company", to London. Wilma was a great looking money manager who drove me berserk constantly raving about her young son. Wilma lovingly (really) called the kid "her terrorist"..I went back to the States for another quick visit with my patroon and Wilma and I flew on the Concorde together but I insisted that she sit as far away from me as possible. When we deplaned I requested one favor of Wilma: that she never mention my name and certainly never tell anyone that she knew me.....Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I was making life long friends in London's City. Eating and entertaining my way to an additional 30 pounds. In those days, if you didn't entertain, you couldn't raise a squat amount of money, only more weight. I worked out (no fitness spa at Claridge's in the eighty's) on an exercise bike and with weights in my room. Also climbed four flights daily, hit tennis balls with a pro twice weekly, and walked from The City to Mayfair several times a week but at the end of the day I was consuming more calories than I was burning and gained 20 pounds. I would wake at 5:30 and in London nothing happened until 9:30 AM. Hell of a culture. I would call the Continent at 8:00 London time. I was shooting away, in expense money, literally $20,000 of 1981 dollars a month but was successful with having an over the top blast. (I had given up booze, wine, and any mind altering drugs but my prostate, unbeknownst to me, was growing like Topsy). Making friends, talking about oil, gas and promoting was fun. The independent oil and gas business was my shtick and I loved telling stories about the nuances of the business and the great characters that I was associated with out of Midland, Dallas, and Wall Street...The most simple weight control method works your arms and shoulders while shrinking your stomach. It is called "Pushing Yourself Away From The Table".

Sharon, Natural Gas, Fitness

Sharon was her name. I met her on a flight to Midland, Texas having been summoned from London by my oil and gas patroon. Great looking, bright gal on her way to Albuquerque on some kind of business. While I had never, in my life, seen her before the flight I felt that sitting next to her for two hours gave me the necessary insight to invite Sharon to London as my guest. Bright, good looking, big boobs gave Sharon the aura for me of a perfect soul mate. Couldn't beat that image with a stick... A few weeks later, on a first class flight with a guarantee of her own room at Claridge's, in came Sharon who I welcomed at Heathrow with a car and driver. Very big time showing off... Sharon immediately proved herself to be a sincere wine drinker who loved to smoke dope. I did neither. All I wanted was good company and at least the prospect of sex. Not very complicated and I was getting neither. So I sat Sharon's sorry ass down in my suite and said, "Sharon, your meter has expired. Your time is up and it is time for you to go home." I felt foolish for having invited her but smart for sending her home - cut my losses short. For all of you prospective natural gas investors...just bear in mind that "cheap" natural gas is going to become a lot more expensive and a lot less attractive as environmental costs start rising exponentially, which I believe will happen as sure as night follows day. Fitness tip of the week...Good balance, good range of motion and flexibility will keep you looking and acting younger than your chronological years. Yoga, Pilate's and plain ordinary walking helps a lot.

Back Again

Back again, such as I am, with mostly weekly blogs. My blogs will now narrate my unsuccessful and successful business and life experiences that were actively lived over my 87 year eclectic life. e.g....Raising investment money in the UK and Europe for 6 months while ensconced at Claridge's Hotel... A fitness tip will also be included...e.g. "Walking has been found to reduce heart disease risk, balance stress hormones, raise 'good' HDL cholesterol levels, and help improve both blood pressure and blood sugar." ...Paranoia improves peripheral vision.

Golden Years

As I learned in A.A., God does indeed take care of drunks and fools. I qualify on both scores. Monday, April 12, is the 65th anniversary of my being hit on Okinawa, a place I had never heard of and took me a while to remember how to spell. And while everyone seems to think that at my advanced age that I am now living in my golden years, I can assure one and all of the pure bull shit of that conclusion.

My golden years started in my callow youth and ended in my late 70's. Those in between years including the ones in the service were, in retrospect, my golden years. I was a profligate spender my entire life...on my family, my friends and certainly myself. I was always certain that I could replace the considerable amount of money that I spent every day. And replace it I did into my late 70's. I loved every minute of giving it away and spending it.

The first sign of the end of my golden years came when my dick started to die. I went from hookers galore, loose and easy, to a once in awhile triumph of being able to do it. Hookers, as I have often said, were wonderful. For a few hundred dollars, I got to fall in love for a half an hour a time. I didn't have to make any conversation and the burden of proof was never on me. And when it was over she was gone. No cuddling!! My decline during my Golden Years became really apparent when pictures of naked, beautiful young women with big boobs (aka tits) failed to titillate me. Then when people started asking me if I was retired, I knew that my golden years had, for the most part, ended. I lived my golden years believing that moderation was fatal and plenty fucking boring as well. In my ongoing view, very little done in excess was very little done.

I did for doing's sake, not to generate a reward. I have always wanted to, and still want to, touch people's lives and the devil take the hind most. Putting myself under the gun (as in spending more than I made) provided the impetus (aka adrenaline) that I needed to keep me in money making motion. Sadly, I think my contretemps wore my first ex wife out by the time she was 23 (She was 22 when we were married). I am sure, in retrospect, that she actively disliked me very soon after getting married. Probably within the first two weeks of our marriage. Her bedtime headaches became legion. But I ended up with four great kids with her.

So here I am, 65 years after taking one on Okinawa, as happy as a pig in shit with at least 70 Golden Years. The last five years haven't been too swift, but with 70 Golden Years out of 86 total years my life has been more than just okay. My Golden Years started with my first erection at around the age of 10. Getting hit on Okinawa 65 years ago, is something to remember and for some weird reason, something I'm proud of. And who the hell is Simon Murray?