Memoir

Stone Cold Panic

Stone Cold Panic Pete sat in his office and stared at his cup of ice and his bottle of flavored water.  The brand was Poland Spring.  Most people know nothing about Poland Spring and probably don’t even realize it’s a real place. Pete knew all about Poland Spring.  He had lived there for three years back in the 1960’s.  Poland Spring was a symbol of the transformation of life to Pete and it all scared…

Continue reading

Memoir

Alone in the Vastness

Alone in the Vastness On a trip to Latin America, I bought a painting by a well known Argentine artist named Rikelme. We were hosting a client reception in Punta del Este on the gold coast of Uruguay, where the rich and famous play in January. Rikelme seems to specialize in painting landscapes that emphasizing trees. I’m a big tree fan when it comes to art. One of my other favorite artists is David Smith…

Continue reading

Memoir

Digging Archeology

Digging Archeology John was perfectly happy living in Turrialba. He was five years old and where he lived was inconsequential to his daily activities and state of mind. He had lived his whole life, except a year in Santa Monica, in and around the equator. As a kid, he just made the best of whatever his circumstances. Perhaps if he had known that Turrialba was a remote and unknown tropical valley, two hours due east…

Continue reading

Memoir

Chasing Wealth

Chasing Wealth Twenty-five years ago, I was in my second career at the same bank.  I had spent fifteen years rising like a meteor at Bankers Trust, a white-shoe bank of the old order (positioned originally at 16 Wall Street at the famous corner of Broad and Wall across from the NYSE, Federal Hall and JP Morgan).  Lately the bank had become a renegade, exiting the retail banking business and focusing on “Merchant Banking”.  It…

Continue reading

Memoir

Going to the Dentist

Going to the Dentist No one likes going to the dentist.  I doubt even dentists like going to the dentist.  Like many things in life, some things you do in order to prevent the horrible.  It’s like Woody Allen’s old definition that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable and you should feel lucky if you were just miserable.  Going to the dentist is miserable.  Not going to the dentist will end up…

Continue reading

Memoir

The Top of the Hill

The Top of the Hill I went to Cornell for two degrees.  My mother went to Cornell.  All three of my kids went to Cornell.  I was on the faculty for ten years at Cornell.  I have a home just off the Cornell golf course.  I have served on countless Cornell committees over the years.  My charitable contributions to Cornell rank number one in my gift-giving. Many of my oldest friends are from Cornell.  I…

Continue reading

Memoir

Time to Do What?

Time to Do What? Time. It flies by and it stands still.  It is most precious and yet we all waste it.  Sometimes wasted time is the best time.  Yet there is never enough of it. Barry was the Marlboro Man.  In 1975 he had the best look a guy could have.  Imagine a young Tom Selleck.  Big manly mustache.  Longish floppy hair and a quick and broad smile.  Tall, lean, but well-muscled.  And to…

Continue reading

Memoir

A Boo Radley Moment

A Boo Radley Moment People do not get to choose who they are.  They simply are who they are and they live with it.  Some are lucky and fall into the range of normal.  They work and play, succeed and fail, get happy and get sad, all within a band that raises no eyebrows.  Unfortunately, nature is not always so kind, in fact, sometimes it is downright cruel. Joe was one of the best looking…

Continue reading

Memoir

Banking on Grace

Banking on Grace There are many times in life when you must do what your heart tells you to do and let the chips fall where they may.  Sometimes is all works out well. It was 2004 and I had recently taken over the asset management area of the vaunted Bear Stearns.  It was a return to Wall Street for me after a few years spent starting a venture capital business that was chugging along,…

Continue reading

Memoir

The Death Railway of Burma

The Death Railway of Burma I don’t read books any longer (at least not many).  I do listen to audiobooks in far greater quantity than I ever read printed books.  I can listen to books almost anywhere.  I do it when I drive, obviously, but also on my motorcycle, in the hot tub, sitting at my desk doing work, walking around town, during my weekly two-hour therapeutic massage or sometimes just relaxing at home. I…

Continue reading