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Monday, April 11, 2005

recent stuff I forgot to save

Having spent much of the weekend either in a car doing the turnpike shuffle..There is something about the barren wasteland of the New Jersey turnpike that is good for contemplative thinking..or waiting in Penn station Newark observing the by product of humanity whilst waiting for the listmaster to figure out the intricacies of the train schedule from Manhattan, I got a lot thinking and observing accomplished..for no particular reason I shares those thoughts…. There is something about a wedding that instills hope for humanity even in a cynical multiple divorced(but Im Not bitter) individual like myself. To see two people willing to risk the commitment to each other in what is an obvious celebration of hope over statistics causes on to realize exactly how optimistic a species we are… Speaking of weddings, what the spec list has put together let no man put asunder.For the wedding of a young man from Ohio to a girl from new jersey, there were no specs in attendance from Chicago,new york, Cincinnati and Maryland.There were as many specs making the trip to the wonderland of jersey as there were old college friends of the groom.The 4 of us would never have met had the chair not decide to create a franklonian forum for the exchange of idea and bbq recipes.Parts of the weekend felt like a small spec gathering..if,of course, it wasn't for the ceremony with all the flowers and blushing bridesmaids inserted in the middle……an options trader, a spread trader,pattern trader,trading software guy, and of course the token value guy, friendships born out of one mans desire to share his knowledge and experience…hats off to victor for creating a platform that has led to so many fast and long lasting friendships…. Upon arriving home, I witnessed the terps of Maryland rising above once again to almost knock off #2 North Carolina..this after beating their feared and dreaded nemesis duke twice this year.IN spite of these accomplishments for most of the year the team has played below expectations,losing to teams they should have beaten by 20 points or more.Why is that teams..or even traders..can rise above for the biggest challenges,Beat or scare the best teams in the country,,,trade though a market meltdown(or up),racking up gains and protecting capitol, but lose to the little sister of the poor, dropping large numbers on range bound days,selling bottoms and buying tops during calmer times?.What is the motivational force that causes us to rise above and how do we harness it for every day use? How does one gain the same focus and intensity that allows us to perform at our highest and best levels and bring it bear every game and every day? I have yet to find a problem that a good car, some open road, two packs of smokes and a big cup of 7-11 coffee(although the esteemed mr crossman insists that dunkin donuts is the better brand) and some stevie ray Vaughn cranked on the stereo cannot take the edge off the condition. It seems that there is cleansing about blasting down the road that makes the problems less serious that they seemed while ruminating behind a desk or in a sleep deprived apartment setting…loud music, open road seem to be the essence of affirming that life is still good.problems can always be overcome and there is something bright around the next bend..or if you re on the turnpike,at the next exit….rains end,markets turn, love returns, friends endure and the road truly does go on forever.At such times, smoking along, stevie ray cranking it out as only he could, the radar detector showing clear and no traffic around, it doesn't matter if value beats growth, if options should be bought or sold,how many ex-wives one is dragging about in albatross fashion through life,what matters is that the world is full of possibilities and opportunities, there's a solution for every problem, that the style that's suits you is the one that works,theres still music and open roads ahead in all areas of life….pass the keys,gas it up.Life goes on..and that's a good thing….. If one ever gets a chance to sit between james goldcamp and ryan Carlson while they discuss their travels around the globe..drop whatever you are doing and go.they sights and adventures of these two gentleman make for fascinating listening..kind of a natural geographic over cocktails In closing congratulations to the newly hitched Mr and Mrs Jason Thompson.Jason is a spec lister for some time now and it was great to see the obvious joy and pleasure they shared for each other…They were married Saturday in a stunningly beautiful ceremony.It was pleasure and honor to share the moment with them and wish them all happiness

feb 18

ah..come knew I was going to.... .driving into work this morning, a hawkish wind blowing off the bay, Im surprised to see swirling, a brief nasty flurry of the sodden shitty white stuff to remind me that its still winter.... as I light a cigarette, cracking the window slightly, I feel the wet, cold damp slap against my slightly hungover self and shudder in my over coat, cranking both the heat and eric claptons cover of judgement day to fight off the frosty blast....I drive on contemplating the mysteries that have plagued mankind since the very dawn of time itself..important crap like whether mercks announcement will make my pfizer calls rise this am, how the stunning girl I saw last night..and I do mean stunning even with my scotch aided vision(which has been known to lead to some most unfortunate conclusions in times past, creating the need for an important personal can drink em pretty but you cant drink em thin) could be seen in public with yo-boy imitator with the scruffy goatee, steelers jersey(in a md sports/redneck joint no less..ahh the humanity!!!!!!!!) and more earring's in one ear than my two wives owned between them..yes,driving along thinking deep thoughts about critical issues, earth shattering, life changing considerations like how soon after the market closes should I leave for happy hour,what a certain chicago lady lawyers eyes might look like by candlelight,what type of wedding gift might make jasons intended forget that crossman and I kept him out all night...when the most momentous words,4 words that cause my soul to soar, renewing all hope for mankind.... PITCHERS AND CATCHERS REPORT I go in an instant from a smoky car, transported from a mildly hungover adult male with a huge options position and no immediate prospects for an emotionally satisfactory personal life to an 8 year old moms back yard on a hot summers ever,my suit and tie is replaced by the dirtiest pair of dungarees(yeah I know they call em blue jeans know but trust me on my moms clothing budget in those days, these were dungarees), torn at the knee, a little blood stained because when I slide into second..and I always slide into second whether its a home game and second base is the corner stake of moms tomato patch or an away game and its a garbage can lid billy madisons mom is going to yell at us for stealing out of the kitchen tends to remove the scab from yesterdays game...I can smell the sweaty leather of that old glove, a spalding brooks robinson..the ONLY acceptable version in the maryland of my youth unless it was the boog powell firsties mitt but if you wore that you better be able to clear the center field fence..also knowns as mrs greens shit pile producing beagles dog house.otherwise it was brooks.the glove is well worn,broken in by months of constant use..used to field those razor hot grounders, track down the soaring flyballs up against the wall,or even sometimes over the hood of the car to prevent not only a run scoring double but a true broken windshield, some bodies going to have a very sore ass if I dont catch this catastrophe....and the bat, the same bat, now a 40 yr old piece of hickory hardened to the consistency of iron , that sits in the corner of my room used only on occasion to beat myself senseless when the thought that I might like to be married again some day crosses my mind, but then, then it was the home run swatting, seeing eye single producing fear of boucher avenue.and later after a good dinner of moms chicken, or perhaps a night of trying to slip my eveil vile liver on my sisters plate so I can slip down to my basement bedroom and hear on my little transistor radio the orioles, bufor,blair,robinson(f),powell,robinson(b),johnson,belnager,etchebarran and hendricks platooning tear up opposing pitchers while mcnally cuellar and dobson rendering visiting batsmen powerless... yeah,yeah I know,overpaid athletes,steroids, corked bats, yadiid,yaddi, yaddi..its not the game of my youth,free agency has ruined the game, moral decay of america etc,etc,etc..screw it, its baseball...bright lights illuminating soft green cathedrals streaked with pure lines of the whitest white outlining the field of dreams,exploding fastballs, plunging curveballs, towering home runs, ninth inning rallies and line drive doubles,,and yes I am acutely aware that many frozen nights lie ahead before summer returns to the northeast, and no doubt there is more snow and even the ACC tournament still to come,pfizers only up .15 and at the moment I am without a current incantation of the one great and true love of my life..but PITCHERS AND CATCHERS REPORT and while all is not quite right with the world, there is hope and baseball ahead.

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