With
my near extinction as a very successful stock broker which resulted from my
disastrous investment and recommendation of Radio Shack, there were not many fucking
income producing options for me.
I
was 32, with a wife, four kids, a dog and mortgage payments on my Jewish
mansion (a house you can't afford to live in). There was but one option and
that was to pick myself up and start all over again. For the 5th time.
My
first and very painful step was to call everyone that had lost their ass on my
Radio Shack recommendation, to try to resurrect them as clients. Email hadn’t
yet been invented as a fucking cop out or as a premier way to avoid confrontations.
I was stuck with that old fashioned device known as a telephone.
KISS,
or Keep It Simple Stupid, was the hub of my 'Get Resurrected Now' drive. Going
on my conviction that more people suffer from ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder)
than don’t, my pitch was short and simple. Less than 3 minutes. Not eye glazing
long.
First
there was a brief, painful mea culpa. Then came the line saying that they could
find another stock broker who would make his own particular mistake or stay
with me and benefit from the lessons learned from my horrendous stupidity.
Then came the suggestion that they buy some GM and ATT (to show that I
was going straight, no more flyers, or crapshooters). The big deal was to
re-establish communication.
That
chutzpah effort worked and while not many shares of GM or ATT found a new home,
the re-opening of communication lines did happen and I was back in business.
Albert
Einstein so famously said that if you keep doing the same thing, over and over
again, each time looking for a different result, you are insane. So off I went
looking for a different fucking foot race to run.
Faulkner,
Dawkins and Sullivan had just originated a new way to make money. They elevated
their aura of research infallibility by writing in depth reports where they
blinded you with their bullshit.
Being
a guy who specialized in bullshit I followed FDS lead. By the way, FDS wrote a
100 page research report on Mead Johnson. Disaster. Its estimates proved to be
way off base starting with the quarter of issuance of the report.
In
scrounging around looking for a reasonably decent stock to promote, Disney came
up on my radar screen and away I went promoting Disney stock. Not a blue chip
but not a Radio Shack type crapshoot.
The
writing of a 60 page report became kind of fun. I visited the company many
times looking for the one, at least, cockroach in the fucking kitchen. No more
Radio Shack crapshoots in my play book. I'm slow but not that fucking stupid.
 |
| Disney 1955 |
The
Disney executives treated me as though I was important. Free rides at
Disneyland Park went with special treatment for my family and me at the Park. The
Princess loved the action while disapproving of me and my approach to life. The
Princess wanted a table top smooth life. I was not her style. Me? Bumps okay. C'est
la vie.
While
working on Disney, I became expert in Television Film Productions (Not
recognizable from today’s media companies). I wrote a negative report on them
basically calling them pieces of shit, which they turned out to be.
With
two institutional reports in hand I went to the Senior Partner for permission
to peddle stock to mutual funds. He went through the fucking overhead. No one, he
screamed writes negative reports (true then).
As
for selling to mutual funds he pointed out my ignorance of the system. Mutual
Funds, in those days, did their brokerage business with the firms that sold
their funds. The brokerage firms got paid twice for the same fucking
transaction. First with the fee they charged the client for buying the fund and
second in commissions.
There
was no problem in my trying to sell insurance companies and up popped Omaha in
my small mind. Having been to Omaha in my farming days I knew it for its
stockyards, steaks and Polaks. Not big on hookers…turns out.
I
found that it was also, the second largest, with Lincoln, home of insurance companies
in the US (after Hartford). Knowing that an expert is someone from out of town
and that Omaha is in the familiar Mid-West made it a perfect destination.
On
the phone, I introduced myself to the money managers of the insurance
companies. Mutual of Omaha, Woodmen of the World and National Indemnity were
included.
While
friends were being made in Omaha, only one friend really stood out, Jack
Ringwalt of National Indemnity. Jack was a former National Tennis Champion,
smarter than all get out and Jack loved women, particularly those who would go
to bed with him.
Jack
bought my Disney story and made bunches of money with it. We had many dinners
with a lot of laughs. Sometime after I left the brokerage business (turned
Jack's account over to my friend Roland Biancalana who promptly fucked it
up), Jack
was a great help to Warren Buffett who bought National Indemnity and its
investment portfolio. It was a trigger to Buffett's fabulous success.
I, on
the other hand, had turned into a fucking drunk and The Princess unloaded me.
I was
blessed to quit drinking and given the chance for one more fucking comeback…which
I made.
