Radio Shack, Charles Tandy, Dick Jenrette, Jack Wolgin

"I am a man of means, by no means."...Roger Miller, King of the Road

Confusing brains with a bull market was my hallmark. Sadly, I was never as smart as I thought I was...but later in the game and after getting my ass totally whipped another time or two; my stock market paranoia took over and not believing management, until proven otherwise, ruled the roost. Made a real winner out of me.

My first meaningful stock disaster (I had two) and one that shook my very soul started its journey around 1962-63. A prominent security analyst with Drexel, Harriman (This was long before Mike Milken arrived on the scene.) had recommended to me a POS called Atlas Credit run by a guy out of Philly called Jack Wolgin.

Jack was a piece of work. He had a hard time walking directly from A to B. It was always a stroll by way of Z. He would fuck you for practice even if it didn't do him any good. And he made a gazillion fucking dollars playing his game.

Atlas financed home improvements, specializing in roofs. The company sold the financing with the roofing at outrageous prices and outrageous interest rates. So outrageous, that in 1965 the State of Pennsylvania passed a law forbidding Atlas's practices.

But the stock was a huge success. A good stock market (brains and a bull fucking market) helped propel the stock from the low single digits to the high teens. Naturally, needing income and knowing that trees don't grow to the sky, I got my clients out. Little did I know that I was right for the wrong reason. More better than being wrong for any reason.

That stock performance (it all happened in less than two years) empowered me to become powerless over my own bullshit. Arrogance took over and the clients who didn't follow my advice were thrown over the side of the boat. Hanging up on the people who helped feed my wife, four kids and the dog plus supply me with booze, became part of my schtick.

I hadn't as yet crossed the Rubicon and turned into a full blown functioning fucking drunk but was well on the way. Had then, have now, the patience of a moth on a hot light bulb.

So naturally when my Drexel broker friend called me with another genius idea paying attention to him became a must. He was promoting a stock that was selling at $12. In looking at the balance sheet the company's short term debt jumped out at me so 'No' was my answer. He kept calling, with me declining as the stock kept going up. Finally, at $18, I figured that he was right and I jumped in with both fucking feet.

Believing that moderation is fatal and diversification breeds mediocrity every poor son of a bitch who knew me ended up owning what proved to be a total piece of shit. The stock started sinking.

I panicked and flew back to Boston to visit the company based on Commonwealth Ave. in Boston and then to see the underwriters in NY (DLJ). Being slow but not stupid I knew I was up to my ass in alligators when it hit me that the company was being run by two guys, a Jew and an Irishman. A dangerous combination.

Dick Jenrette in NY, the underwriter, told me that there was nothing happening to be concerned about. That turned out to be complete and total bullshit. He had his own axe to grind, whatever that was. The stock kept sliding. I had even promoted my Mother into it. What money that I hadn't pissed away supporting the Princess, the 4 kids and the fucking dog was in that asshole stock, called Radio Shack.

At near $2.00 a share Charles Tandy came in and acquired it. The Irishman and the Jew had devised a simple bookkeeping ploy that covered up a serious shortcoming, which I, in my arrogance, failed to see. Radio Shack, named after the radio shack on ships, was capitalizing costs against mail order sales. When the sales didn't materialize pop went the weasel.

And there I was, one more time, busted on my lower case, jewish ass with the same wife, four kids and a dog that the Princess called 'Honey'. Something she absolutely never called me. My second ex-wife continued that pattern but she preferred 'Asshole' to passive, aggressive silence.

Starting all over again from zero was grim but ignoring the Princess's entreaties to drop dead I went on to greater heights though very bruised.

Having gone from being a travellin' man (a success) to farmer (a disaster) to car salesman (big success) to stock broker (a success) to stock broker (a failure) back to stock broker (a success) didn't really fill the Princess with love and admiration for my decision making ability.

But it was onward and upward, one more fucking time. Renewed optimism, energy and new friends to make in places ranging from NY, London and even Omaha. That stuff for another blog.