"He wasn't necessarily the world's best novelist

or the best bullfighter or best artist or

best piano player or best nightclub owner,

but he was very good at them all."

Marginal Requirements

Public Construction- Government spending on construction fell 1.3%  in April to its lowest level since 2006. More than 90% of all public building is done by state and local governments. Can you say budget cuts? The other 10% is done by the federal government. Can you say sequester?

Marginal Musings

Obamacare – In a report published May 31, 2013 titled, “The Affordable Care Act: Gradual Effects,” Goldman Sachs says, “the effects on employment, inflation, and growth are likely to be modest, since the gross and particularly the net effects of the law look fairly small compared to the size of the economy.” Just for fun, watch how the terms “modest” and “small” get defined by what side of the political spectrum you’re on between now and the 2014 mid-term elections.

Just Plain Marginal

U.S. Open- The sixth green at Merion Golf Club, site of next week’s U.S. Open golf tournament, is only 150 yards from St. George’s Episcopal Church, whose tower bell rings every half-hour. The 18^th tee is next to a commuter rail line, where passing trains are required to blast their high-pitched air horns at certain intervals. If Tiger is freaked out by the simple click of a camera shutter, wait until he gets a load of Philly.

Views From the Cheap Seats

Every morning I scan the obituary page of The New York Times looking for a life story that tickles my imagination and makes me wonder if I’m using my time on this Earth as productively as I should. I found such a story last February, but somehow it got shuffled into the never sphere of papers piled on my desk. After reading about this person’s variegated career, and how he achieved success at so many levels, I determined there was no way I could write a piece focusing solely on one individual event. Instead, here is a chronology of what this person managed to accomplish over the course of a ninety year stay on this planet.

1922- Born in San Francisco. The son of a banker, he spends his childhood growing up in Hillsborough, CA with a silver spoon planted firmly in his mouth.

1939- Attends the Univ. of North Carolina, where he was captain of the freshman boxing team. After one year, he applies to Yale so he can study art.

1940- He spends the summer taking art classes in Mexico City. On day,fueled by youth and tequila, he leaps from the stands into a bullring and challenges the bull himself, using his Brooks Brothers raincoat as a cape. This stunt so impressed the bullfighter Felix Guzman, who was waiting his turn in the ring, that he offered to give the young man lessons. In their first session together, however, the young man is gored through the knee—an injury that earns him an exemption from wartime military service. Just about the time he recovered, he learned he’d been admitted to Yale. His flight back to the U.S. crashed on the runway in Burbank, CA. He survives.

1943- After graduating from Yale, he goes to work for the U.S. State Dept., where he serves as a vice consul to Spain. While in Spain, he re-enters the world of bullfighitng. He becomes the protégé of Juan Belmonte, considered the greatest matador of all time. Under the name “El Nino de California,” he eventually participates in over 40 bullfights, and becomes the only American male in history to have fought bulls in Spain, Mexico and Peru. Apparently, there is no bullfighting in Hillsborough.

1947- He quits the State Dept. moves to Lima, Peru, where he fights bulls, paints portraits, plays piano in a hotel bar, and writes bullfighting articles for magazines. When he visits his parents’ summer house in Santa Barbara, he meets novelist Sinclair Lewis, who hires him as his personal secretary. The job lasted only a few months, but the two men sign a contract to write a book based on the notion that John Wilkes Booth was not killed by Union soldiers after he assassinated Lincoln. They never write it.

1948- He publishes his first novel, “The Innocent Villa.” It flops.

1952- He publishes his second novel, “Matador,” a fictional account of the last day in the life of legendary Spanish bullfighter Manolete. It sells 3 million copies. John Steinbeck says it’s his favorite book of the year. The novel is eventually translated into 28 languages.

1953- With the money he earned from his novel, he moves back to San Francisco, where he opens a nightclub called El Matador. Over the next ten years he becomes a city fixture, playing the piano, serving drinks and swapping stories with Hollywood stars, famous writers and local politicians. In 1997, he writes a jaunty account of his decade owning the club called “Name Dropping: Tales From My San Francisco Nightclub.” Coincidentally, in 1986 he wrote a memoir called “Time Is All We Have: Four Weeks at the Betty Ford Center.”

1958- He was gored almost fatally in a bullfight. After learning of the incident, actress Eva Gabor is said to have run into actor Noel Coward at famed Sardi’s in New York and asked him, “Did you hear what happened? He was terribly gored in Spain.” Coward replied, “Oh, thank heavens. I thought you said he was bored.”

1965- He joins the board of the San Francisco Film Festival and serves for five years. Tired of the surging sleaze in San Francisco—symbolized by a topless shoeshine stand down the street from his old club—he moves his family to Santa Barbara.

1973- He starts the Santa Barbara Writers Conference. He and his wife direct it until 2004. It is now run by Monte Schulz, son of Charles Schulz, the creator of “Peanuts.”

1974- Paints three charcoal portraits of literary friends Truman Capote, Alex Haley and James Michener. All three now hang in the National Portrait Gallery in London

2010- He publishes his last book of fiction, “The Second Life of John Wilkes Booth.” The book was supposed to be co-authored with Sinclair Lewis over sixty years ago.

2011- He publishes his last book of non-fiction, “101 Best Sex Scenes Ever Written: An Erotic Romp through Literature for Writers and Readers.” He is 89 years old.

February 12, 2013- Barnaby Conrad, Jr., bullfighter, portrait artist, piano player saloonkeeper to the stars, author of 36 books, and founder of the Santa Barbara Writers Conference, dies at the age of 90.

Now THAT is what I call a life.

 

 

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Why are they doing that, Daddy?

You went to no classes and did no homework.

- Violet Affleck, Ben Affleck's seven-year old daughter

Marginal Requirements

Fear The Taper- In a piece titled, “The Bond Sell-Off: It’s For Real,” Goldman reminds readers that just last month they called the end of the 30-year rally in bonds, and that yields on the 10-year US Treasury should approach 2.5% in the coming months. Let’s be honest #1; Goldman’s been calling for a bond market selloff for years. Let’s be honest #2; nobody does a victory lap better than Goldman Sachs.

Steel – According to Goldman Sachs, the price of steel has fallen 11% since 2012 and, due to excess supply, will remain under pressure until  at least 2015. What the steel market really needs right now is a few 9.0 earthquakes centered in New York, London and Tokyo.

Marginal Musings

No Mas, Michelle- Minnesota Congresswoman Michele Bachman announced on Wednesday she will not seek a fifth term in Congress next year. In a statement, Bachman says, “This decision was not impacted in any way by the recent inquiries into activities of my former presidential campaign or my former presidential staff.” Gotcha. More likely her party ran out of tea.

Just Plain Marginal

Tax Reform- On May 6, 2013, the Congressional Joint Committee on Taxation published a 568-page report on various tax reform options based on the work of House Ways and Means Committee working groups. Think about that for a second…an OUTLINE for a tax reform package takes up 568 pages. Imagine if the novel War and Peace was just a table of contents?  

Views From the Cheap Seats

“This is a spectacular honor for me,” announced Ben Affleck upon receiving an honorary Doctor of Fine Arts degree from Brown University. “In terms of higher education, I passed Matt Damon.” True, but I saw Matt Damon making out with Michael Douglas the other night. Take that, Dr. Affleck.

For many in the overflow crowd on this blustery day, the 245th annual Commencement Day at Brown, the few words from Hollywood’s Argo-everything was the highlight of the graduation ceremony. For others it was the sighting of Bruce Willis and/or Demi Moore, two not-quite-normal parents in town to celebrate the graduation of their daughter Scout (who graduated with Honors). I spoke to several parents who ran into Bruce at a Thayer Avenue coffee shop, the Brown Bookstore, or Friday night’s cold and rainy Campus Dance. Nearly all said the same thing about Mr. Die Hard; Bruce Willis looks just like Bruce Willis, and he’s much shorter in real life than he appears onscreen. Funny. People say the same thing about me.

The hard drive in my brain will forever store three moments from this unforgettable day. First, opening the ceremony’s 40-page program and seeing the name “Ross Alexander Geiger,” (with some Latin curly-Q next to it signifying Honors Graduate). It literally took my breath away. The last four years were not a dream, I thought to myself. And I’ve got the cancelled checks to prove it.

Second, the pealing of the College bell, which has rung from the cupola of Brown’s University Hall since 1791. It signaled the start of the Commencement Day procession, a mile-long parade of Brown administrators, faculty and alumni decked out in ceremonial robes and gowns and hats. The graduating class of 1,554 included a red-headed kid from Moraga, CA, who wore on his face the biggest smile I’d ever seen. Ross said afterward the coolest moment of the day was passing through the outward-facing Van Wickle Gates and being cheered and high-fived by appreciative alums.

Third, the speech Ross gave in a small, intimate ceremony for East Asian Study majors. After receiving his diploma, Ross lightened the mood by saying, “I came into Brown on crutches, and I’m leaving on crutches.” After reminiscing about the joys of sleepless nights and term papers, Ross thanked the faculty and his classmates. Finally, with a tear in his eye and a voice filled with emotion, Ross concluded his remarks by saying, “Lastly, I’d like to thank my family… my Mom…my Dad…my brother…for all the help they have given me.” 

No, Ross. Thank you.

p.s. Our post-graduation dinner was at Hemenway’s in Providence. Awesome seafood. The night before, we ate at Gaslight, an intimate French brasserie in Boston’s South End. Outstanding food, service and ambiance. A great place to take a date.

 

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"And when you finally fly away

I'll be hoping that I served you well

For all the wisdom of a lifetime

No one can ever tell

But whatever road you choose

I'm right behind you, win or lose

Forever young, forever young

Forever young, forever young."

- Rod Stewart, "Forever Young" (1988)

 

Views From the Cheap Seats

Dear Ross,

When you were just a baby, I would walk into your room and stare at your face while you slept in your crib. You looked so serene, so at peace, a true gift sent from Heaven. I would pick you up and cradle your tiny body in my arms, doing my best not to wake you. Then I would sit in a rocking chair and gaze at you in wonder, asking myself over and over again, “What will you become?”

Every father wants a better life for his children. Hopefully you’ll have kids of your own one day and you’ll know what I mean. But in those calm and tranquil moments we spent quietly together in your room (along with Barney the Dinosaur and Thomas the Tank Engine), I came to a simple realization. All I wanted from life was for you to have choices, and I wanted one of those choices to be going to college.

I don’t think you realize how important this singular goal was for me. We make fun of my half of your DNA, of how “The Geigers Are Here” mentality has led to a colorful and questionable family history. Education was always a down the road issue, a second thought, something to be put on the back burner. Only two members from the last three generations of Geigers have graduated from college, and I’m one of them. I wanted our family to take a different direction, to stake new ground to plant the family tree. And you, as my oldest child, were the first seed I wanted to plant.      

Never, not even in my wildest dreams, did I think you would grow into this.

You’ve never been wired to blow your own horn, but you need to take a step back and appreciate all you have accomplished during these last four years. You are graduating this Sunday from Brown University, a member of the Ivy League. You have earned an Honors degree in East Asian Studies, along with a degree in Economics. You learned how to speak Mandarin Chinese. Your college GPA is higher than the one you earned in high school. You were President of the Collegiate Consulting Group, as well as President of the East Asian Club. You were a two-year Division I athlete, and a board member of Athletes in Action. During your senior year, you earned straight A’s despite two ankle surgeries. You have been hired as an analyst at Altman Vilandrie & Company, a management consulting firm in Boston.

And here’s something else you thought you knew but you actually didn’t. Remember that award notice you received in the mail last week, the one you thought was “no big deal?” Think again. Here is what the Brown University website has to say about it:

THE THOMAS CARPENTER AND LYDIA CARPENTER PREMIUMS were established in 1869 by Lydia Carpenter, on behalf of her late brother. They are assigned at the end of the academic year to the two members of the senior class who, “already on scholarships, shall, in the judgment of the faculty, unite in the highest degree the three most important elements of success in life—ability, character, and attainment.”

When you were an infant, I carried you in my arms. When you were a child, I held your hand. You are now a college graduate, and I'm proud to say we stand shoulder to shoulder. Congratulations, Ross. Well done. Thanks to you, the Geigers are now HERE.

Love,

dad

 

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Providence– where it rains two days

out of three except during the rainy

season when it snows like a bitch.

- A poster inside Brown University's Grad Center Bar

Marginal Requirements

Stocks- On Tuesday, Goldman Sachs raised their price targets on the S&P 500 to 1750 by year end 2013, 1900 in 2014, and 2100 in 2015. Only the Powerball lottery rises faster.

Global Growth- Goldman Sachs expects global growth to improve from 3.0% in 2012 to 3.2% in 2013 and to accelerate further to 4.1% in 2014. Greece? Cypress? Whatever.    

Marginal Musings

E-Commerce- According to a report issued Tuesday by the consulting firm PwC, 58% of Chinese respondents said they shop online at least once a week. By comparison, only 42% of US respondents, 41% of those in Britain, and 29% of Germans said they shopped online at least once a week. The percentage was lowest in France, where only 13% said they made online purchase once or more a week. Trust me, I’ve seen France. You want to get outside.  

Just Plain Marginal

Golf- Golf’s governing bodies announced Tuesday that anchoring the club in making a putting stroke will be banned effective Jan. 1, 2016. Do professional golfers really need thirty months of lead time to change their swings? I change mine seven times a round.

Views From the Cheap Seats

“Back To School” was a 1986 movie starring Rodney Dangerfield about a fun loving and obnoxious rich businessman who decides to enter college to help get his discouraged son through school. My fourteen days in Providence was like returning to college, only this time I was armed with a credit card and a real ID. Here are some of the highlights:

Food Trucking–  A primary goal during this trip was to make sure Ross and his surgically-repaired left ankle got outside of his house at least once a day. One afternoon I rolled Ross into my rental car and cruised down to the corner of Thayer and George Streets, an area I later renamed “The Brown Food Court.”  Lined up like planes taxiing for takeoff were a half-dozen food trucks catering to starving students in search of anything not resembling mystery meat. While Ross cooled his heels in the car, I walked up to each food truck, took a picture of their menu with my iPhone, and texted the photo back to him. Twenty minutes later we were sitting in our car noshing on tasty tacos and delicious baked chicken. Several cute girls stopped by to sympathize with Ross and ask if there was anything they could do for him. I wished they had asked me that question.

A Global Investment–  Ross’s last college assignment was to write a twenty-page paper on religion in China and its effect on who knows what. To celebrate its completion, I suggested Ross take his laptop to his favorite restaurant, where we would record his last collegiate hit of the SEND button. Ross loved this idea, and he invited two of his friends to join us for celebratory Sunday brunch at Kabob and Curry. I now have on my iPhone a treasured memory of an American kid completing a Chinese course in an Indian restaurant. That alone was worth the quarter-million dollar investment.

Like Father, Like Son–  Ross and I spent hours in his living room, sharing guy thoughts as well as guy smells. To get out of our Sportscenter comfort zone, Ross turned me on to the Netflix drama “House of Cards.” It took all of five minutes to get me hooked on the show, and we ended up watching all thirteen episodes together. I tried to return the favor by suggesting we watch the first full season of “Mork and Mindy.” Maybe this summer.  

Eat With Your Hands–  One night I told Ross I’d take him and a friend anywhere they wanted to go for dinner. “How do you fell about eating with your hands?” he asked. We ended up at Abyssinia, a dive restaurant on Wickenden Street that serves Ethiopian comfort food. My two thoughts; one, isn’t any food served in Ethiopia considered “comfort food?” And two, eating Ethiopian food is similar to eating Mexican fajitas, minus the margarita chaser.

 

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"I read the news today oh, boy

About a lucky man who made the grade

And though the news was rather sad

Well, I just had to laugh."

- The Beatles, "A Day In The Life" (1967)

Views From the Cheap Seats

Question:  Why haven’t I received The Marginal Prophet for the last three weeks?

Answer:    Because I went on vacation

Question:  Really? Where did you go?

Answer:    Back to college

Date:  Friday, May 10, 2013

Place: Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island

7:00am– I wake up groggy after spending a restless night on Barnes Street in Ross’s third-story bedroom. Ross is downstairs sleeping on the ratty living room sofa, courtesy of the recuperating requirements of Left Ankle Surgery #5 two days earlier (yes, he DID have surgery #4 just this past December…but that’s another story). Ross wants me to wake him up at 8:00 so he can prepare for his last collegiate final exam at 9:00. I get dressed and drive six blocks to the Brown University student center to use their bathroom. The bathroom down the hall from Ross’s room has been declared a hazardous waste dump.    

7:30am– I’m standing in a long line at the Seven Stars Bakery on Hope Street. The place is packed to the gills. I order a dozen pastries to bring back to Barnes House. The ten seniors who live there are taking/studying for final exams. They’ll let me stay so long as I feed them.

8:00am–  Ross, lying on the couch with his heavily bandaged ankle elevated above his head, adds a layer of peanut butter, sliced bananas and cinnamon spice to a piece of toasted wheat bread. He calls this breakfast. I devour a chocolate croissant and a cinnamon bun. I call that breakfast.   

9:00am–  Fortified with protein, Percocet and Oxycontin, Ross opens his computer and prepares to take his final exam in Corporate Strategy. It’s a two-hour take home test, so I wish Ross luck and head out the door. It’s a warm sunny day in Providence. Perfect coed-watching weather.

10:00am–  After wandering around the Brown campus, I head down College Hill towards Wickenden Street in search of the perfect mango smoothie. On my way I stumble upon a small park filled with rambunctious first-graders having way too much fun at recess. They’re kicking balls and playing on swings and climbing monkey bars. This unplanned walk down Memory Lane compels me to sit down on a nearby bench and dial up the Pretty Blonde, who is still in her pajamas on the Left Coast. Suddenly, twenty-two years of parental pride bubble uncontrollably to the surface, and I spend the next fifteen minutes on the phone blathering like an idiot. Where, I cry, did all the time go? I haven’t cried that hard in years.  

Noon–  To celebrate the completion of his final final, I treat Ross to lunch. He dispatches me to East Side Pockets, a Syrian sandwich shop located on Thayer Street. Ross wants a chicken falafel combo-pocket on a wheat wrap, with everything but pickles, and extra hot sauce. I tell the owner that it’s for my red-headed son who’s laid up at home. He recognizes I’m talking about Ross and tosses in some free baklava for dessert. After four years at Brown, Ross knows all the right people.

3:00pm–  After waking up from joint two-hour naps, Ross and I make plans for Friday night. (We can’t get too crazy—several of his housemates have finals tomorrow. Yes, a Saturday). I suggest I’ll spring for pizza and beer for the house while watching the NBA playoffs. Ross concurs, though he informs me his stomach is starting to feel a little queasy.

5:00pm–  I check-in online for tomorrow morning’s 6:00am United Airlines flight from Boston to San Francisco. I’m scheduled to conduct a huge charity auction Saturday night, and I can’t miss it. My plan is to get a few hours of sleep, wake up at 3:00am, and drive to Boston’s Logan Airport. Ross informs me he now has a nagging headache to go along with his worsening stomach ache. Hmmm.

7:00pm–  I head out to pick up the pizzas. Ross informs me his head and stomach ache have doubled in intensity. Double hmmm.

7:30pm–  I return with the pizzas. Ross informs me his head and stomach ache have doubled in intensity since I left. Triple hmmm.

7:31pm–  WE'RE OUT OF HERE. I Google the nearest Emergency Room.

7:35pm–  Google Maps sends me to Butler Hospital. After turning into the entrance, I find it odd that the long and winding road leading to the actual hospital building is loaded with speed bumps, and surrounded by rolling lawns and green trees. “What kind of hospital is this?” I ask Ross, who’s turning greener by the second. I finally get to the front door. Butler Hospital is a psychiatric hospital. Oops.

7:40pm–  “Try Miriam Hospital,” Ross utters above a whisper. We’re there minutes later. Ross is handed an empty bag; he hands it back full. Doctors decide a painkilling combination of Percocet and Oxycontin is a prescription better suited for an elephant, not a college student. Four hours and an IV cocktail later, Ross is released.

Midnight–  Ross rejoins his housemates and kicks them off the sofa. He skips the pizza and dives into some yogurt, toast, granola, peanut butter and sugarless jam. We all stay up until 1:30am watching the Warriors thump the Spurs. Watching televised sports in the Pacific Time Zone is so underrated.

2:00am–  I say goodnight to Ross and hit the road for Boston. One of the toughest exits of my life.

6:00am–  Wheels up from Boston. I shut my eyes and wakeup somewhere over Nebraska.

p.s. Ross scored an “A” on his Corporate Strategy final. Must have been the Percocet.

 

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To those who have gone.

- A toast by the surviving Doolittle’s Raiders

Marginal Requirements

Jobs, or the Lack Thereof- According to the Labor Dept., there are now 11.7 million workers looking for work who cannot find it. The tally for those considered “underemployed” brings the total up to 21.9 million. According to the Brookings Institute, to return to prerecession employment levels, while at the same time absorbing all the new people who enter the work force each month, over the next seven years the economy would need to create an average of 208,000 jobs each month. No wonder the Fed keeps ordering new printing presses.

Marginal Musings

Women At Work- According to the Labor Dept., of the 165,000 jobs created in April, 71% went to women. The survey also found that there were close to 200,000 more women working in April than March, while the number of employed men declined. 2013 isn’t just the year of the snake; it’s the year of the sugar mommy.

Just Plain Marginal

AVEO Pharmaceuticals (AVEO)- With the stock trading at $2.50, RBC Capital Markets downgraded AVEO to Sector Perform from Outperform and lowered their price target from $15 to $6. Let me see if I have this straight: you have a price target more than DOUBLE its recent price, yet you have it rated as a Sector Perform. I guess RBC believes the Dow is going to 30,000 in the next twelve months.

Views From the Cheap Seats

Tom Griffin married Esther Jones on June 13, 1945 in Dowagiac, Michigan. The couple settled in the Cincinnati area, where Tom hung a shingle as an accountant. They raised two sons and lived a pleasant, quiet life.

Esther became ill in 2002 and needed to be moved to a nursing home. Every day, Tom walked from his house to the nursing home to feed and care for his ailing wife. Then he would walk back home, usually carrying her laundry. He spent his nights washing and ironing her clothes. The next morning, Tom would walk them up to her room. He did this everyday for three years until her death in 2005. They were married sixty years.

But Tom Griffin was more than a loving husband.

On April 18, 1942, twenty-five year old Air Force navigator Tom Griffin stood on the flight deck of the aircraft carrier USS Hornet. Earlier that morning, two small fishing vessels were spotted near the carrier and sunk by US fighter planes. Lt. Col. Jimmy Doolittle, fearful that the boats may have warned the Japanese of their location, changed his plans and ordered his squadron of sixteen B-25 bombers to takeoff immediately, even though they were still about 640 miles from Tokyo, over 200 miles further than their original plan. That decision meant the planes would have barely enough fuel to drop their bombs and successfully reach their landing zones in China— assuming, of course, they didn’t get shot down first.

 Griffin and the other members of his crew (Plane #9-“Whirling Dervish”) took off and headed for Tokyo, flying just above the waves to save fuel and avoid detection. Griffin would later recall, “I thought it was much too beautiful a day to be flying on a mission of destruction such as ours.” After successfully dropping their bombs and hitting their targets amid a sea of anti-aircraft fire, Griffin and his crew turned southwest and headed for China.

The nighttime weather began to deteriorate, further draining their fuel supplies. With virtually zero visibility, the men had to rely entirely on their watches and compass to guess their location. After 15 hours in the air, the engines began to spit and sputter. They were about to run out of gas. It was time to jump—at 10,000 feet—in pitch darkness—into a storm.

Griffin landed in a bamboo tree near Nanchang. He escaped Japanese capture and was later sent to Europe to fly more combat missions. Griffin was shot down on July 4, 1943 on a mission over Sicily and spent 22 months in a German prisoner of war camp. Just months after the war in Europe ended, he married Esther.

Of the 80 men who volunteered for this very dangerous mission and later become known as “Doolittle’s Raiders,” 69 escaped capture and death. In 1945, Doolittle gathered his men and brought them together for a reunion. Since then, each April on the anniversary of their mission, they have gathered at such cities as Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Columbia, Dayton, and Fresno. The high point of each reunion is a solemn, private ceremony in which the surviving Raiders perform a roll call, and then toast their fellow Raiders who have passed away the previous year. In 1959, the city of Tucson gave the Raiders 80 silver goblets, each inscribed with the name of a Raider. Since then, they are taken to the reunion sites and used for toasts to “those who have gone.” If a man has died during the previous year, a member of his crew goes to the goblet case and turns his goblet over.

Major Thomas C. Griffin died on February 26, 2013 at the age of 96. On April 18, in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, the surviving Doolittle Raiders met publicly for the 71^st time and turned over Griffin’s goblet.

Doolittle’s Raiders took an oath that a bottle of 1896 Cognac (the year Doolittle was born) would be enjoyed by the last two survivors. In a change of plans that General Jimmy Doolittle would have appreciated, the last four living Raiders, each well into their 90’s, have decided to cease their public reunions. Sometime later this year, they’ll gather in absolute privacy and open up that special bottle of brandy.

Thank you, Tom Griffin and the other Doolittle Raiders, for teaching us the meaning of bravery, valor, dignity, dedication, loyalty and patriotism. We raise our glasses to you.

Click on LeeGeiger.com to learn more about…well…Lee Geiger

I do the very best I know how

the very best I can.

- Abraham Lincoln

Marginal Requirements

The End is Near- In a fixed-income research piece published April 30, 2013 titled, “Nearing the End of the Rally,” Goldman Sachs states that the decline in bond yields looks overdone and they recommend shorting 10-year US Treasuries. This report should not be confused with an identically titled research piece published on April 30, 2012, or one published on April 30, 2011, or one published…

Marginal Musings

The Daily Skimm- My son Ross, a senior at Brown, recently turned me on to an informative, concise, and very well-written and amusing newsletter called “The Daily Skimm.” Created by Carly Zakin and Danielle Weisberg, two sharp-witted twenty-something Ivy League grads who bonded over a mutual love of fried artichokes, this is one daily newsletter you WILL want to open. It’s the political science version of The Marginal Prophet. Here is how the ladies, who left their gigs as producers for NBC News, described a big story this week.

THE STORY: The CIA has been leaving money with Afghan President Hamid Karzai’s office for over a decade. Karzai confirmed this yesterday and said thanks.

Sign up now. It’s a great way to start the conversation.

Just Plain Marginal

What I Meant To Say- On February 14, 2013, analyst Jim Birchenough of BMO Capital Markets lowered his price target on Aveo Pharmaceuticals (AVEO) to $8 from $13 after the firm announced disappointing guidance for the upcoming quarter. Yesterday, after the FDA questioned whether AVEO needs to run another clinical trial for its cancer drugs, Birchenough downgraded AVEO from Market Perform to Underperform and lowered his price target from $8 to $1. With that price target, I would have downgraded AVEO to “Surrender.”  

Views From the Cheap Seats

In February 2009, before he ever ran his first lap at Campolindo High School, freshman Keith Geiger knew he had big shoes to fill. And he was reminded of this fact every day he went to practice. Before he stretched a single quad muscle, Keith had to walk past Campo’s Track and Field Record Board, which featured the school’s all-time best marks going back to 1971. Located in the bottom right hand corner of the board was a blue laminated plaque with a bunch of inscribed white letters that proclaimed the following:

6400 Meter Relay: R. Geiger, G. Holmes, M. Brondello, R. Pulford

17:49.1 (2008)

During the 2009 season, senior Ross Geiger again had his name added to the record board:

Distance Medley Relay: R. Pulford, P. Trotter, R. Geiger, C. Pines

10:31.0 (2009)

Keith walked past this board for four years, and he never said a word about seeing his older brother’s name on it. Nor would he. Keith’s wired that way. Ross also never said a word about having his name on the board. He’s wired that way, too. The boys are competitive but very respectful of one another. Each is the other’s biggest fan. They get their wiring from their mother.

About a month ago, I decided to take a walk. My feet guided me to the Campo record board, located 1,864 feet (give or take) from my front door. There I stood, all alone in my shorts and stubby white legs not fit for a coffee table, staring at the names on the board. Suddenly I realized something was amiss, and action needed to be taken right away. I ran back home, which is never a pretty sight.

Last week, in a private ceremony attended only by me and my power drill, I pulled two  brand new blue laminated plaques with a bunch of inscribed white letters from an envelope and updated the Campolindo High School Track and Field Record Board. It now proclaims:

6400 Meter Relay: K. Geiger, T. Joyce, A. Hathaway, V. Compestine

17:42.78 (2012)

Distance Medley Relay: T. Joyce, R. Hoffman, A. Hathaway, K. Geiger

10:28.61 (2012)

Two sons. Four records. One proud dad. Thanks to R. Geiger and K. Geiger, I’m wired that way.

p.s. Because there is no “I” in team,well-deserved record breaking shout-outs also go to: Greg Holmes, Michael Brondello, Robert Pulford, Patrick Trotter, Colby Pines, Thomas Joyce, Adam Hathaway, Vinson Compestine and Ryan Hoffman. Go Cougars!

 

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"Hold on, to me as we go

As we roll down this unfamiliar road

And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone

Cause I'm going to make this place your home"

- Phillip Phillips "Home" (2012)

Marginal Requirements

Govt. Spending- The G.D.P. report released last Friday states nominal government spending was essentially flat versus last year, and on a real basis declined 6.5%. According to The New York Times, this is the first decline in the governement spending portion of G.D.P. since the Korean War. During the Reagan Administration, aides called this “starving the beast.” I call it passing on dessert.

Marginal Musings

Manhattan Rents- According to The New York Times, one of the reasons why Manhattan rents are sky-high is because almost 5% of  the apartments in Manhattan are used by part-time residents, nearly double the number from 2001. Yogi Berra was right; no one lives in Manhattan anymore because it costs too much.

Just Plain Marginal

Highest-Paid Majors- According to the latest survey by the National Association of Colleges and Employers, the nine highest-paid college majors for 2013 are;

1. Petroleum Engineering            $93,500
2. Computer Engineering            $71,700
3. Chemical Engineering             $67,600
4. Computer Science                   $64,800
5. Aerospace Engineering           $64,400
6. Mechanical Engineering          $64,000
7. Electrical Engineering             $63,400
8. Management Info. Systems    $63,100
9. Engineering Technology         $62,200

See a trend here? See anything related to accounting, banking or finance? Nope, me neither.

Views From the Cheap Seats

Twenty years ago today, I stood at the end of a financial diving board and took the biggest investment plunge of my life. I purchased my house in Moraga, and saddled myself with a mortgage worthy of a team of Clydsdales. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and after seven thousand restful nights (and about 300 restless ones) I can thankfully say it was.

Growing up Geiger, where “rent” was in our DNA and “own” was a four-letter word, you could have gotten long odds that I could keep the same address for twenty minutes, much less twenty years. The best way to illustrate this point is to layout my early academic calender, which was more fluid than Taylor Swift’s relationship status:

• Kindergarten 1.0—Burbank, CA…Attended class for all of 30 days. Flunked fingerpainting.
• Kindergarten 2.0—La Cresenta, CA…Kindergarten is still the best two years of my life.
• First Grade—Glendale, CA…”Hey Mom, how come I’m the oldest kid in my class?”
• Second Grade (fall)– Anaheim, CA…My babysitter worked at Disneyland. Very cool.
• Second Grade (spring)—N. Hollywood, CA…The smog was better here, I guess.
• Third Grade—La Grange, IL…I walked to school in a blizzard, backwards, uphill. Both ways.
• Fourth Grade (fall)—Northridge, CA…”Hey Mom, can I throw away my mittens?”
• Fourth Grade (spring)—Schiller Park, IL…”Hey Mom, where did you put my mittins?”

My parents and I managed to reside in the same small, two-bedroom Schiller Park apartment through my eighth grade, whereupon Dad informed me we were moving to a rented condo in Carmel, California, a town I had never heard of. I didn’t care how “lovely,” “quaint,” and “peaceful” the cute little Village-By-The-Sea was. I was fourteen, and the roots of my childhood had finally dug in. The last thing I wanted to do was move to some place I couldn’t find on a map and make another round of new friends. “If I ever have kids,” I whined over and over again to Dad during the three-day cross country drive, “I’ll NEVER make them move!”  

 Mission accomplished.     

Click on LeeGeiger.com to learn more about…well…Lee Geiger